Chapter Fourteen
Author's Note: This chapter is rated MA due to sexual content.
At the crossroads fair I'll be surely there
And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
And I'll try sheep's eyes, and deludhering lies
On the heart of the nut-brown rose.
his arms? Her eyes, indeed, reflected quite the same aquamarine brilliance that they always had, and yet the familiar look of guardedness was gone. He wondered if he could read her – and in a moment he felt he could, and then his heart began to beat in terror of the unknown, and he wasn't sure he dared. All of those fantasies, that had left him drained and exhausted and never quite satisfied all those nights in his cabin on Voyager, came flooding back – and yet, more than anything, he wanted the fantasy to be hers.
He stood behind her, and, lifting her hair, gently unfastened the blue tunic, so that it slid from her body and to the ground. He moved his hands from her shoulders, down her back, and onto her bare abdomen. He felt her stiffen momentarily, and then she lifted her arms, and raked her fingers through his hair. He bent his head, and tasted her neck, her shoulder, biting at the tough fabric of her black bra strap. She moved impatiently against him, arching her back, and by now he had no doubt that she could feel his aching hardness pressed into her backside. Surrendering to the moment, his hand dove below her
stomach and invaded her black tights. When his hand made contact with her core she moaned, and bucked against him, and twisted her head back to drive her tongue into his mouth. He began to thrust his fingers insistently in and out of her sex, and as she groaned in pleasure his hips ground against her buttocks. The feel of her against his hand was almost unbearably arousing, and he swore to himself that he would not let himself come this way. But he was losing control, he pushed her head back and placed his other hand at the back of her neck, grabbing a fistful of her hair as his thrusts became more ragged. Perhaps out of the same fear, she broke their position and turned around, staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers. Her hair was disheveled, and she was breathing heavily, her large, half-exposed breasts rising and falling with her breath. He had never seen anything so erotic in his life. Kathryn undid the buttons of his jacket, and she lifted his gray Starfleet shirt over his head. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for his pants and palmed his throbbing erection through the
fabric. But he caught her wrists, raised her arms once more and laced his fingers with hers. She laughed, and let him have his way.
He could barely believe he was hearing the sound of her laughter, guileless as it had been on those rare occasions on Voyager when something had suddenly struck her as funny, and she had forgotten to maintain her captain's composure. But there was no mask of regret now, and her eyes shone into his as purely and honestly as if she were making him a promise. Whatever it was, he believed it, still he wanted to move slower, wanted to give her this moment as a promise of his own, that he would love her as patiently and as long as he had waited
for her.
He sank to his knees and, pulling down the thin tights, began to kiss her stomach, her hips, and finally the place where his touch was most anticipated. She shuddered and rocked against him, weaving her hands through his hair, and moaning as his lips and tongue performed their blissful invasion. She thrust against him, begging him silently to bring her the release she needed. He had begun slowly, caressing and teasing her, until he understood her urgency, and began to explore her more intensely, massaging her clitoris with his hand as his tongue rose and fell inside her. In time his insistent ministrations pushed her over the edge, and she cried out his name, letting go all control and allowing her legs to falter and buckle as she came.
He rose to steady her, pulling her tights back over her stomach, and she immediately fell into his arms, lifting her legs around his waist. She buried her face in his neck, kissing him lightly as he began to carry her toward shelter.
It would have been, for most people, a terribly unsatisfactory living arrangement. But Kathryn Janeway was Kathryn Janeway, and she would make her bed in a narrow cave in the wilderness if it served whatever personal crusade she was in the moment defending. He set her down on the bare earth, and she continued to cling to his neck and kiss him absently as he arranged the mess of clothing scraps and blankets she had available to make her bed more suitable for two.
When he was finished he turned his attention back to her. He smiled into her crystal clear eyes and released her breasts from their lacy black confines. He pressed her hard against his body, and her bare breasts felt so unspeakably wonderful crushed against his chest. They stood there for a moment, her head buried in his shoulder, his hands roaming all over her body while her small white hands remained clasped tightly around his neck. He could not help, in some way, but compare the reality of touching her to the countless flights of fancy that had sustained him for the past ten years. He had always imagined her body as soft and rounded underneath the shapeless Starfleet uniform; and he was surprised to find her taut and muscular, the indents of her stomach muscles and the firm strength of her thighs providing a sharp contrast to his old ideas of her. He pulled back briefly, lifted her chin and held it in his hands. He stared into her face, and suddenly saw those months of pain and solitude reflected back; her harsh days and nights, the way that she had trained for this new task of hers, relentlessly and without a word, becoming a lone warrior instead of the leader she had once been. He saw, without having to be told, how agonizing it had been to cut ties with her past, abandon Starfleet and start anew. Her eyes burned with that bravery he had always loved in her, and yet he knew she was terrified, not as much of death or suffering, as of giving herself to him.
He lay her down, and slowly removed the rest of her clothing. He was caught off guard at the sight of her, and he wanted to continue staring just so that he could believe she was real, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable either. Instead of bending over her, he lay at her side. He wanted to make her feel that this could last as long as she wanted it to. He kissed her pale shoulder, and ran his hand lightly over her stomach. She covered his hand with hers, looked deeply into his eyes and slowly moved his touch lower. He found himself once again stroking the folds of her sex, and it felt so natural, like the elemental feeling of effortless pleasure he could only remember in dreams. She moved her open mouth over his, and their tongues remained entangled in a kiss that never really began and never ended. Again she reached for the belt at his waist, and this time he did not try to stop her. She unclasped it deftly, and reached down inside to finally touch his aching manhood. She ran her hand along the length of it, but then withdrew, and urging him to lie on his back she began to kiss his chest, and then his stomach, and before he could register what was happening, she had taken the entire length of him into her mouth. He gasped at the sensation, and as she began to move up and down his back arched in ecstasy. He tangled his fingers in her hair, and his breath came in ragged bursts as she sucked and licked him from base to tip and felt him tighten and grow harder inside her mouth. He could feel his orgasm building, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep it at bay.
"Wait – Kath –" were the only words he managed, and her sapphirine eyes locked with his. She released him, and smiled in her terribly familiar, half-sweet and half-devilish way. He had perhaps last seen that smile on the bridge of Voyager, when she was wearing her uniform and most likely had her hands at her hips in that combative pose. She was not daring him to make love to her now, but there was always something of the competitor in her, and for the first time, as he gently lay her down underneath him, he understood that she saw their love as a challenge, as a test of courage and will, not only for herself, but for both of them.
He kissed her mouth deeply, and as he lost himself in the sweet softness of her lips and tongue, she guided his throbbing manhood inside her. Their pulses raced in that moment of connection, with the knowledge that this was something they could never take back and that would alter their lives forever. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind, would she like the feel of him, would he be able to guess or intuit what she wanted, would she come to regret this when it was over. But then he remembered that he had only to look, and touch, and respond, and that all of the answers to his questions were there before him.
He was amazed, and elated, to find that a similar set of questions did not seem to be occupying her mind. She looked at him with a combination of curiosity and restless desire, and as he began to penetrate her, she moaned and stretched her hands above her head, arching her back and making him want to devour her breasts. Some part of him had wanted this to be slow and tender, but when she reached for him and raked her fingers along his spine and raised her legs, begging him to enter her even more deeply, he lost sight of every inclination to prudence. She met him thrust for thrust, moaning as his thick, rigid member blissfully invaded her core over and over. Listening to the sound of her low voice catching and moaning as he drove deeper into her was like an elixir. He kissed her wildly, letting his newfound addiction to her mouth and lips fuel his ardent ministrations. His heart was pounding, and he felt his orgasm approaching and he knew he could do nothing to stave it off this time. But she wrapped her thighs around his waist, and when the kiss she was leaving on his shoulder turned deliciously painful, he knew she was ready too. Just as he felt her inner muscles begin to spasm around him, he let go, and with a cry released his seed into her body.
He could not remember when he had felt an orgasm this powerful, and he remained, nearly paralyzed for several moments riding the aftershock. He was afraid of crushing her with his weight, but the sensation of her small hands stroking his hair reassured him.
When he had come back to himself, he slowly shifted his weight to lie beside her. It occurred to him that barely a word had passed between them, and he found himself not wanting to break that silence now, and looking into her impossibly beautiful face, he felt that she did not want to break it either. Instead he gathered her into his arms. She pressed her body against his, and kissed his forehead, his mouth and his neck before settling her head into his chest. He brushed the hair away from her face, looking down at the tiny beads of sweat on her brow and the flush in her cheeks. He watched as her eyelashes began to flutter, and finally close. Gradually, her breathing became slower and more even. Only then, when he was sure she was asleep, did he rest his chin on her head and allow his tears to fall. His life, which had held questionable meaning for him up until now, was suddenly endowed with a significance he could have never fathomed; and yet he knew that if he were to die in that moment, he would be happy, and redeemed.