Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything. I get nothing from this.
Rated NC-17 for explicit sex.
Part 3, of a trilogy, continuing the story started in What The Crew Doesn't Know and The Desperate And Divided
Years. Definatly sappier than the preceeding parts!
CHAKOTAY:
Our first date. It's only taken us six years to come to this point.
I'm ready for her to arrive, have been ready for years come to that. I have taken a lot of care with the preparation; I think this could be the most important evening of my life. If I screw up, if we screw up, we're out of chances to try again.
I have the replicator programmed with a recipe from earth - Thai vegetable curry - sweet and redolent with coconut and a mildly spicy sauce. I have a bottle of wine, real wine, chilling. The lights are at 50%, not too dim. Tonight is for romance, not for seduction. Soft blues music is playing quietly.
All I need now is Kathryn.
I'm nervous, my palms are lightly sweating. The door chime rings and I let her in. She looks beautiful in a pair of slim fitting taupe pants and a mossy green tunic. I close the door behind her; we don't want any stickybeaks in the corridor to see the romantic evening their command team is planning. I take her by the hands and pull her gently into the room. A light kiss on the lips for greeting. I want to establish the mood early on. I need to let her know that this is courtship, a prelude to romance, not just a dinner for close friends, but I keep the kiss light, just a soft brush of my lips on hers. We are not ready to go down the road to passion just yet.
She has yet to speak, she seems a little uneasy. I guess this is as strange for her as it is for me.
"Wine?"
She nods and accepts the glass of Chardonnay, twirling the stem of the glass in both hands, staring at it as if it holds all the answers she is looking for. She doesn't look at me.
"Kathryn." I put my hands over hers on the glass and one by one pry off the fingers of her left hand. When it comes free, I take it in mine and lead her over to the seat by the viewport. We sit at opposite ends of the small bench, our knees angled towards each other and brushing slightly.
She looks up at me finally and offers me a ghost of a smile.
"I'm sorry Chakotay, I don't mean to be offhand. I'm just a little nervous. I don't know how to behave with you."
I smile in relief. I was wondering if she was having second thoughts.
"Just be yourself," I answer her obliquely.
"That's just it. I don't know who I am any more with you. I'm not your lover, so I don't know how to flirt with you and seduce you. I don't want to be your Captain and start ordering you around, I want to be more than your friend but I don't know how to start."
I put my glass down on the sill of the viewport and shift so that I am sitting next to her, no longer facing her. I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer to me, so that she is resting on me.
"We'll just talk. How did you behave with Mark?"
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back. The last things I want to talk about are her ex-lovers, her sad relationships.
"You're not Mark, Chakotay."
I can hear the smile in her voice.
"Mark and I were comfortable together, but we should never have got engaged. Should never have gone out with each other really. We were friends, but we tried to force a spark where there was none."
So, I was right about that. I want to get off this topic; I don't want her to think of me as a Mark. But having brought the topic up, I can't abandon it so soon.
"Don't tell me, you stayed together for the sake of the dogs?"
I've hit the right note. She picks up on the teasing in my voice and starts talking about her dogs. I let her talk, and sit there, my arm around her; fingers lightly stroking her upper arm as I sip my wine and let her voice wash over me.
The tension is broken. We talk, laugh, tease. She touches my thigh to make a point. I play with her hair, twirling a lock of it around my finger. After a couple of glasses of wine we move to the table to eat and carry on our warm conversation. The topics meander around. Earth, Dorvan, holidays, pets, family, what we would do if miraculously we were put on Earth for twenty-four hours.
She wants to see her family, particularly her sister Phoebe, and wants to walk the green woods of Indiana. I hear wistfulness in her voice when she talks about her family, and I hear her longing for fresh air and sunlight when she reminisces about Indiana.
I tell her I would like to revisit the Arizona desert and hear the wind sing its song to me. Then I surprise her by saying I would like to visit some of the ancient cities of Europe, particularly Dublin with its unique culture and identity.
She steals a forkful of food from my plate when she thinks I'm not looking. I catch her wrist and make her feed it to me instead. My mouth closes over her fork and all I can think about is that her lips have touched this.
We finish with coffee and an orange liqueur I bought at a planet 20,000 light years distant. Strange to think of the ship moving so fast, at warp speed, the stars streaming by and inside, here in my quarters we're moving so slowly. Feeling our way.
"I have to go," she says regretfully.
I smile at her. "One dance first."
The computer is playing a soft tune, Van Morrison from twentieth century Earth, and his gravelly tones swell in the silence.
We stand up and she moves into my arms, settling her head against my shoulder and slipping her hands around my waist. I put my arms around her and we sway together to the music. I nuzzle her hair, it smells clean and fresh. Lemony. I don't caress her, just hold her, close to my heart where she belongs.
The song ends and she lifts her head from my shoulder and looks up at me. I lower my lips to hers and kiss her gently, nibbling her lower lip, tracing the outline of her upper lip with my tongue, before fitting my mouth to hers for a brief moment.
When I lift my head from hers, the stars from the viewport are reflected in her eyes. She lifts her hand and touches my cheek then moves away from me.
"I better go."
I walk her to the door.
"I have some holodeck time tomorrow evening," I say, "we could go sailing on Lake George or hiking in the Colorado Rockies."
"The Rockies," she says.
I had expected her to chose sailing. I touch her lips briefly with mine and she's gone.
KATHRYN:
I'm giddy with it all. Giddy with him. Thoughts of him fill my head day and night and I can't think of
anything or anyone else.
When I was a teenager, talking with my mother about boys, men, love and marriage, my mother told me to find a man who would cherish me, and who I could cherish in return. Chakotay cherishes me. I can feel his love enveloping me at the oddest moments; when our eyes meet on the bridge, when he brings me a coffee in the messhall, in the middle of an argument with B'Elanna over the warp drive. And I cherish him back. I program my replicator with his vegetarian favorites, I bring him mint tea when he's pouring over PADDs in his office, touch his hand to let him know I am with him on a long and boring duty shift.
I love the way he holds me, so safe and secure against his big body. I love the way he kisses me, soft, gentle, hot, slow and sensual. His kisses alone start a warm uncoiling of sensation deep in my belly. I want more then kisses and so does he, but we're not rushing it. We know what the other is like in bed... or do we? I think both of us are in for a surprise sometime in the future. Our kisses are nothing like what we've ever shared before, I think our lovemaking will be different from past passions as well.
It will be wonderful.
We've been developing our relationship for over a month now. Our kisses are getting more passionate, but we have yet to make love.
A couple of weeks ago I tried to seduce him. I didn't know what we were waiting for, and after all we have done in the past it seemed silly to deny what we both obviously wanted. I could tell he was aroused, could feel the hard length of him when I ran my hand over his groin, but he very gently put his hands on my shoulders and moved away from me slightly.
"No Kathryn."
I looked up at him with parted lips, trying to control my breathing. "I want you."
"Kathryn, not yet. When we make love," and he stressed the word, when, "it will be something deep, intense and full of love for both of us. I don't want there to be any confusion in your mind that it is the same as what we've done before. We're going to make long, slow love and then we're going to sleep in each other's arms all night."
I still stared at him. "Chakotay, I love you now."
"I know you do Kathryn, and I love you too, so much, but we're not going to make love yet."
He then took my hand and pressed it against his groin. "This is how much I want you. Don't ever doubt that I do. But we're going to wait a while longer."
He took both my hands and pressed them onto his chest. He then told me in warm, loving, evocative language exactly how we would make love, what he would do to me, how I would feel, what I would do to him and how he would feel. The words he chose were the language of love, he was not using coarse bodily terms, he was describing to me the worship of each other's body and the coming together of two souls.
I had tears in my eyes when he had finished.
He then took me in his arms and kissed me thoroughly, his lips moving slow and hot, his tongue sweeping around my mouth. He shook with his reined in passion.
I could feel the ache of wanting him deep down low in my belly and feel the moisture pooling between my legs.
I loved him more then ever.
CHAKOTAY:
It has been six weeks now. Six of the happiest weeks of my life. I know without doubt, without question
that Kathryn loves me deeply and completely. My animal guide spoke truly; she is a prize beyond compare
and she is my soulmate.
We've spoken about completing our relationship in the only way left to us. This is our final hurdle.
Tonight we will become lovers for the first time.
Tonight.
KATHRYN:
Tonight.
Tonight we will become lovers for the first time. We have not been lovers before. We both agree that what we had before does not count. Tonight.
I'm on the bridge and I can hardly concentrate. If anything happens to stop this now I don't know how I will bear it. If we have to go to even yellow alert I am going to scream and hit my head on the viewscreen.
The crew knows things are different, they don't know what, but they sense a peace and joy between us that wasn't there before. I don't think they are taking bets on our relationship. As I said before, it will take a photon torpedo to change their perception of the way we are. They are just happy that we are relaxed together. I am glad they are not teasing us in any way. This is too new to be public knowledge as yet.
But after tonight...
After tonight, if we make it through, then I'm going to shout it out loud in the messhall. I'm going to make a shipwide announcement over the comm. I'm going to sing a love song to him on talent night. I'll even take Tom Paris to one side and tell him in confidence that we are lovers. That we love. That we are one.
Tonight.
He's not by my side today. He requested the day off. He's going to visit his animal guide, and he's preparing for me. He turned down B'Elanna's invitation for velocity. Good.
Tonight. Three hours away. In three hours time I will be in his quarters. My stomach is churning. I hope he's not planning on having dinner first. I haven't eaten all day. I'm sick with anticipation.
The shift finishes. Tuvok comes on duty to relieve me and I hand over the bridge. I also leave him orders that the Commander and I are not to be disturbed under any circumstances except the direst red alert. I tell him we will not be wearing our Comm badges, but that we can both be reached in the Commander's quarters if absolutely essential. All night.
Tuvok says nothing and I don't offer any explanation.
I shower, wash my hair. No make up. I think I may cry and I don't want it to smear. No perfume. I want to smell him, nothing artificial. Underwear, newly replicated for this. For him. A cream-colored lace bra and matching panties. A dress. A green, soft dress that is loose but alluring. I fiddle with my hair for a while; I want to look beautiful for him.
I am ready twenty minutes early. I pace my quarters for a bit and then decide to go. I'm sure he's ready for me.
The door opens before I can ring the chime and he takes my hand and leads me into his quarters. I look around. He has been busy. The main lighting is subdued. He has rearranged his furniture. In one corner the small table is set for two. There are candles on the tables and a red rose on my plate. Mood lamps dot the room. He has the area under the viewport cleared of his normal clutter. Instead, a soft fur-like rug is on the floor. Large floor cushions are scattered about, and there are more soft cushions on the bench under the viewport. On a low table I haven't seen before there is an icebucket with a bottle of champagne cooling. A plate of finger food sits next to it. The door to his bedroom is open. I can see a soft throw on his bed, soft lighting and candles waiting to be lit. The soft husky-voiced singer he likes so much is playing.
And him. The most beautiful thing in the room is him. His hair is slightly damp. He is wearing a soft blue shirt and casual pants. Bare feet. And the most beautiful thing about him is the love in his eyes as he smiles down at me.
The nervous anticipation I have been feeling all day evaporates. This is coming home, this is my safe haven, this is my fireside. This is the first day of the rest of our lives. Together.
He leads me to the center of the room and puts a gentle hand on either side of my head and kisses me softly.
"Champagne?"
"Love some." Is that my voice? Surely I don't always sound like that, so soft, husky, loving.
He pops the cork and pours us a glass each.
"To us."
"To us," I echo him; we clink glasses and drink. The bubbles tickle my palate.
He leads me to the soft cushions on the floor by the viewport and we sit. The plate of nibbles is within reach.
"I thought you may prefer to nibble first. We can eat properly.... later."
On cue my stomach growls. He laughs.
"I've been too tense to eat all day," I say to him, "I've been waiting for you." He feeds me herbed olives, shrimp, goat's cheese, Talaxian tomatoes. In between each bite, he kisses me, tasting the food from my mouth. I taste the champagne from his.
He is stroking my arm, his fingertips lightly brushing the side of my breast.
"Are you still hungry?" he asks.
"Only for you."
He kisses me properly then, sweeping his tongue through my mouth, lowering me to his soft, yielding rug. Pushing his fingers up into my hair, messing it up.
"You look beautiful," he says.
So much for all my preparation, but his eyes tell me the truth of what he says. I am beautiful and it is because of him.
I look up at him, touch his face, run a finger down the vee of his shirt down his smooth chest.
"You are truly beautiful," I tell him.
We kiss for a long time, lying together on his rug. His body is touching mine as we lie facing each other, touching in points of electricity, nipples, thighs, arms, hands.
He rolls me over so that I am on my back and starts to undo the buttons down the front of my dress. As each one comes undone, he bends over and plants a soft kiss on my exposed skin. He gets to my waist and returns up, nudging the material away from my breast with his lips. His lips move with measured slowness over the skin above my bra. He pulls the dress away from me, and he puts his mouth over my nipple, through the lace of my bra.
He continues his slow and measured path, roaming around my body with his mouth, returning to my mouth to kiss me, down my neck, slow, always slow.
My hands are exploring him in return. His shirt hangs loose and I can explore his chest, take the time to relearn his body. I am learning more now about what he likes then I ever did in the years before. His chest is hard, muscled without being bulky. His skin is bronze and smooth. Nearly hairless, the only hairs are around his nipples and an arrow of hair leading down his belly to his groin. I want to touch him with my mouth, lave his nipples as he is laving mine, but he keeps me on my back, not letting me set the pace.
He is so slow and hot I think I will die of it.
When I can stand it no more, he lifts each of my arms out of the dress and unclips the front fastener of my bra. He smiles when he sees my breasts and sits back on his heels so that he can better see my face when he touches me. Gently, with slow, crawling fingers, he circles my breast, getting closer and closer to the nipple. I can feel my breath coming quicker, my face is starting to flush. I don't know how much longer I can stand this slow buildup, this anticipation. I don't know how he can, I can see the outline of his erection through his pants. But we're doing this his way. I'm not going to grab him and pull him down to me. He's doing this for me.
His fingers brush my erect nipple and I moan. He leans over me, taking my mouth again, as he now rubs both nipples with his fingers. My hands move to his shoulders and I push his shirt away from him. He stretches himself out alongside me and takes a nipple in his mouth. I am whimpering now, with the joy of it. With the joy of him. Never has anyone been so caring of my pleasure and I sense we've only started. I want to do the same for him, please him as much he is pleasuring me, but he is still in control.
After an eternity, his hand creeps down my body, into the indent of my waist, over my hip, down my thigh. He's bunching up the dress and when he reaches the hem line his hand reverses direction and starts crawling its way up my bare thigh. His touch is so light as to barely brush my skin and he moves slowly and aimlessly, crawling, brushing, inch by painful inch, driving me to incoherence.
I'm almost sobbing now with the slowness and the beauty of it. My hands are clutching air when I can't touch him, holding his head, his shoulder. His mouth moves on my breast and his hand inches it way up my thigh. He brushes the edge of my panties with his fingertips, and inches his way along the line of it, towards my hot center, advancing and retreating, never quite arriving where I want him.
His hands leave my body and he sits me up, I'm so helpless with desire for him that I can barely sit up under my own power. He pulls the green dress over my head, leaving me clad in only the cream panties I chose with such care for him. He undoes his own pants, and pulls them off, while I watch. My eyelids feel heavy and slumberous, all I can do is watch him, and as more of his body is exposed to my gaze I reach out to try and touch him. We lie back down on his soft rug, each of us clad only in underwear. He is wearing briefs, tight black briefs and his thick erection is tightly outlined. The top of it protrudes hard and purple above the waistband. He is big, thick and long. He is beautiful.
I run my hands over his chest and down to his hips, pulling him towards me. He half rolls over me, slipping a thigh over mine. The feel of his skin touching mine is electric, I want to pull him over me and let him press himself to me all over. His mouth settles between my breasts and he starts to inch his way down. His hand settles on my knee and starts to creep up.
I can hardly keep still, the pleasure is so intense. He's going to meet in the middle.
His mouth reaches the waistband of my panties just as his fingers brush the lace over the damp center of me.
Both of his hands go to the waistband and I lift my hips so he can slide them down and off.
His mouth and his hands return. One finger is probing me, sliding through the wetness. I don't think I have ever been so wet and aroused. He must be drowning down there. His chin slides down my pubes and his mouth is between my open legs. I am keening, chanting his name over and over like a mantra.
There is noise in my head, I am squirming underneath his touch as his upper lip caresses my swollen nub and his tongue is suckling me. He pushes me to the edge of coming and then circles away using his fingers inside me and rubbing the outer folds.
I can hardly stand it. He moves in again, this time swirling his tongue round my nerve center and I explode into a white circle of light.
I am coming so strongly that I am aware of nothing except blinding white light in my head. Dimly I think I am screaming his name, as the waves of sensation wash over me, on and on hard and strong. I can feel his hair under my hand, but my whole universe is centered on his mouth between my legs. Dimly I am aware of his consciousness, riding my orgasm with me. I am not telepathic, but I swear he is with me, in my head sharing my pleasure.
He pulls back and with a finger still inside me watches me as I ride the aftershocks back down. I become aware of the rug underneath my back, my throat is hoarse from shouting his name, the stars behind the viewport reappear and I realize my face is wet from tears I don't know I've shed.
I sigh his name and he moves up my body to kiss me. His face is wet from my juices and I see he has been crying too. I taste myself on him and as he moves close to me I realize something else.
He smiles and does not look embarrassed, but moves his sticky underpants away from his body.
"When you came, I came too," he says.
My hands reach out and I help him pull off his underpants. I push him back and lick his semen from his skin.
When I am finished, he reaches for me and pulls me close, sticky skin to sticky skin.
"I love you," I tell him.
"Kathryn, just then, when you came, somehow I was with you in your mind. I could feel your thoughts, know what you were feeling. That's when I came, without any touching at all. You were all around me and your orgasm became mine as well."
He is crying softly but continues. "That has never happened before to me. I felt your love for me. I never dreamt you felt so much for me."
I wipe his tears away. "Believe it Chakotay, you are my life."
"I love you too," he says, "so much, so much...." his words fade away, he is inarticulate, crying, his voice choked. He does not need to explain. I know how much he loves me and I am humbled by it.
We lie together, not wanting to part. The dinner he prepared is forgotten, neither of us want to move.
Eventually we rise and move together to his bedroom. He lights candles and we lie on the bed, and the kissing and caressing starts all over again.
This time will be for him.
CHAKOTAY:
I am awed and humbled by the depth of her feelings for me. They match my own for her.
I don't know how we will ever manage to leave my quarters. Life will never be the same again.
It will be better.
We move into my bedroom and she rises to kiss me. I know she wants this time to be for me, but it will be for both of us. She holds her hands on either side of my face, her mussed hair falling down to tickle me. Her breasts sway above me, and I can see the smooth curve of her belly as she straddles me.
She indulges herself, touching me as I touched her before, stroking my skin how I could tell she ached to do. She sucks my nipples. She nibbles my collarbone. She trails gentle fingers through the arrow of hair on my belly. She returns often to kiss me and our juices merge in our mouths as they have yet to merge in actuality. Her eyes are red from crying, but she radiates such happiness that it is palpable.
She bypasses my stirring penis to work her way down my legs with her hands and mouth. I am getting hard again. She is exploring my ankles and feet, intently learning every inch of me.
She works her way back up, gods if this is what it felt like for her, no wonder her soul soared so far when she came. Her hair is tickling my groin. I am rock hard, the head of my penis is weeping, purple and taut. She hasn't even touched it yet.
Her hand quests between my legs, running over the ridge between my anus and scrotum. She presses hard, making me groan. Her mouth comes down and envelops my penis, drawing it in, before withdrawing to lick and suck along the head, tracing the slit with her tongue, lapping up my saltiness. My hands tangle in her hair. She is building up a vacuum, sucking hard and running her fingers up and down the shaft as she does so.
I can't take much more of this, and I am just about to tell her, to stop, stop before I come, when she withdraws and licks and sucks her way around my groin, licking my balls, burying her nose in the hair there.
She works her way back up my body. Its time. She wants me inside her, where I want to be, buried inside her up to the hilt, lost in her body.
She's still straddling me, but she's asking me with her eyes how are we going to do this. I sense she doesn't want to be in control on top of me, too close to being Captain. I don't want her to be underneath me.
I help her off me, and she lies down next to me. We roll on our sides facing each other, and she lifts a leg and drapes it over my hip.
I move in closer to her, she reaches down and takes my penis and places it at her entrance. She is so wet that her thighs are slick. My penis slips in, just the head. I push slightly and I'm all the way in. She closes around me, warm and wet, it's like dipping into warm honey. Her eyes are wide, she clutches my back.
I feel her clench around me briefly and then consciously relax. She is trembling, I think from emotion rather than anything else. I am trembling too, I touch her face, a brief caress and then we kiss, joining our bodies in all possible ways.
I start to move within her. The position we're in means it's a gentle, shallow sort of stroking, I don't come too far out of her, keeping myself sheathed in her wetness. My cock rubs the end of her passage. I am close to coming, but I don't want to come without her.
I feel a tickle in my mind, a light touch, a gentle exploration. It's her. She looks at me, eyes wide as we both acknowledge the connection. Knowing she can feel it too, I let my orgasm build as I pour out all the love in my heart to her. Our link strengthens and I know she is going to come too. With a shout, my orgasm overwhelms me, I clutch her to me, so tightly I will leave marks in her soft skin, but she is coming too, flexing around me, tightening around my penis, as I thrust and thrust, emptying my seed into her body, emptying my love for her into her mind. We lie still, I'm still embedded within her.
"I didn't know that was possible," she says softly. "I could feel your orgasm building, I wasn't even close until then, but I came when you did."
She kisses me.
"I love you."
"I know. How can I doubt it after that."
I slip out of her, and get out of bed. In the other room I collect the red rose I had left on her plate, on the untouched dinner table and the remains of the champagne and glasses.
She's arranged the pillows to support us. I slip back in next to her and give her the rose. She fingers its velvet soft petals and then brushes it over my lips. I move back against the pillows and she snuggles up next to me, head on my shoulder, my arm around her. Her leg rests over mine, her hand is on my heart.
We sip the warm champagne and watch the stars through the viewport.
Tonight we will sleep in each other's arms.
She takes my hand. We'll walk together for the rest of our lives.
Feedback? Yes Please!. Shayenne
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