Chakotay flopped on Kathryn’s sofa beside her, both of them relaxing with a cool drink of iced tea in hand. She kicked off her running shoes, then massaged her ankles through her socks.
“Another day of hoverball in the Delta Quadrant,” she proclaimed, rubbing vigorously at her Achilles.
“More precisely, another day of losing hoverball in the Delta Quadrant,” Chakotay retorted cheerfully, chuckling at her expression. The team had just lost their fourth straight game to the practically unbeatable team of B’Elanna and Tom, and he for one was starting to wonder whether it was becoming worth it.
“Only because you insist on grabbing for the ball,” she told him.
“I insist on grabbing for the ball because the minute we get control, you take the control!” he was only half-speaking in jest, his hoverball record was nothing to immortalize, or even something he wanted publicized for that matter. “You take control of the ball, concentrate solely on the ball, and leave me standing in the background as though I wasn’t even there.”
“And inevitably giving B’Elanna and Tom a chance to take it away from me,” she sipped at her drink. “They ganged up on me when I wasn’t looking.”
“Well, it’s lucky they did,” Chakotay replied. “If you would have hit the wall that hard with the ball in front of you, it would have bounced back in your face. How’s your shoulder, by the way?”
“Fine,” she replied. “It hasn’t hurt since the second round.”
“Remarkable, considering that tumble you took in the first. Seriously, Kathryn, you have got to learn how to give up some of that famous control of yours, or else it’s never going to work.”
“Famous control? Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked.
He chuckled. “The control you refuse to relinquish, even for a nanosecond, because if you did, you think that the universe would fold in on itself.”
“I do not!” Kathryn protested.
His eyes narrowed. He was debating something, that much she could tell from the look that crossed his bronze features. “What?” she finally huffed, after endless silent moments.
He shouldn’t have asked her the next question. But they were alone, and they were tired, and he didn’t really care, since it had been so long since they had toyed with each other in their verball sparring battles. The battles that had become less and less frequent over the years.
“I was just wondering…do you insist on having all the control in the bedroom too?”
She was shocked. She was beyond shocked. Her jaw hit the deck harder than some of them had during battles with offending races. For an instant he debated leaving before she threw him out. Then her expression changed, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn that her smile was smug as it crooked her features.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she threw back.
She should have known, she thought later, if somewhat hazily. She should have known that Chakotay would never have goaded her like that without a good reason behind it, or at least some sort of challenge that, though his eyes suggested otherwise, he was quite serious about carrying out.
He moved over her more quickly than she would have thought he would, his size belying his quickness, taking her hands in his, lacing their fingers together, gently lowering his weight on her own, mindful of the erection that nestled in between their bodies, pulsing through his shorts and against her belly. He raised her hands over her head and held them there, the tips of his fingers and the backs of her hands resting against the material of the couch, nuzzling at her neck and moving lower on the hollow of her throat. Swift, open-mouth gentle kisses left her holding herself rigidly against his body, fighting the urge to tremble, fighting the urge to let him know exactly what she wanted him to do with her. He suckled on her earlobe, his warm breath seeming to scald her down to her toes.
“You can stop fighting this anytime,” he whispered quietly.
“I’m not fighting anything.” She managed to sound indignant.
“You’re starting to shake.”
“I’m shaking with rage…”
Chakotay chuckled. “I know you Kathryn,” his voice was a silky whisper. “I know everything about you that you know about me, not the least of which being that we’ve both been attracted to each other for years. I’d even be willing to bet...” he gently ground his waist into hers, feeling her hips buck against him in response, “…That you’re starting to get rather damp down there.”
“Does it hurt?” he asked, dropping light kisses on her cheeks, breath held waiting for her answer.
“N-no…not…it’s…”
“Shh…” he silenced her. “Just relax. Relax and enjoy.”
“What are you doing?” she asked him, an expression of fear crossing her features.
“Taking the control, my sweet,” he laid beside her, his lips tenderly working hers into compliance, gentle deep kisses that left her breathless and sweating with the desire to wrap her arms around him. She tugged futilely at the hands binding her, and he chuckled, deep into her mouth.
He dropped swiftly, moving his upper body for his lips to come into contact with her nipples, where he suckled through her shirt, nuzzling her into a series of pleasurable coos.
“You have one more chance, Kathryn,” he was at her neck again, biting her gently, tugging on already sensitive skin. “Tell me stop. Call security. Put me in the brig. Because if you don’t, I’m not stopping, and there’ll be no more stopping after this.”
She said nothing. He was serious. Utterly, completely serious.
“I mean it,” he moved to the other side of her neck, one hand releasing hers to toy with her nipple, tickling it until it stood rigidly to attention, brushing and cupping her breast. “If we go through with this, there’s no going back. I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine, forever. I won’t play by your parameters any more, it’s going to be my rules, my way, or else…I don’t care what I have to do, I’m never letting you go…”
Complete silence. Well, not complete. She gave him a small nibbling kiss on his earlobe, before he pulled her from the couch, fastening his mouth over hers, walking her backwards to the bed where she fell as soon as her knees hit. He pulled her pants from her body, caressing her legs with a firm hand, running his fingers over and around her groin, listening to her moans. They turned quickly to breathless whimpers when his mouth came into contact with her folds, pushing against her core, flicking here and there, accepting one second, denying the next, pulling away at the very moment of release. Unrelenting hands grasped her legs and pushed them over his shoulders, preventing her legs from closing and thus permitting him every ounce of access he wished to have.
“Chakotay…” she whispered to him, desperate and breathless. “Chakotay please…wait…”
Her words ended in a cry of love that echoed from the walls as he slipped his fingers inside, an almost feral growl emitting from his lips. The liquid flooded her, the warmth gathered in her belly and exploded from her legs, which quaked and shook around his head. He stroked gently, bringing her down, then left her empty, furious with want, though embarrassed as she felt the deluge now growing cold on her bedspread.
“It’s all right,” his voice flowed over her, as his tongue traced her now-slick wetness. She bucked upwards against him, growling in frustration as his hand pushed her back down, holding her flat, leaving her hips gyrating circles. “Trust me…”
She was already on fire. She felt like jumping straight into a very cold, very long shower. Her body was coated in sweat, as was his. He moved upward, one hand pulling her by the arm into a sitting position while the other unclasped her bra and pulled her top over her head. Once she was bared to him, Chakotay seemed to change tactics, to soften, laying her gently back down on her covers before his lips claimed the rosy mounds, gently suckling and biting her nipples, fingers spidering over her skin to send a combination of chills and fire racing through her. He nibbled at the valley, tracing kisses down to her folds, where he stopped.
“Have you ever…” he whispered, fingers traveling downward, rimming her tight, puckered entrance. She jerked away from him.
“No.” she was breathing heavier, panting, though there was a distinct note of fear in her voice. “Well, yes. Once. But…I never wanted to do it again.”
“Did someone make you?” he asked, maneuvering gently to lay behind her, rolling her slightly onto her side, his hand dipping between her legs. She could have smiled at his tenderness, if his hand hadn’t been so close to…
“It wasn’t like that,” she managed. “It just…hurt. I was sore for days afterward.”
“Then it wasn’t done right,” Chakotay soothed her, kissing her forehead, nuzzling at her hair. Gently he explored her nether regions, his long, thick fingers darting in and out of folds, stroking parts with ease and grace. It slipped inside the cleft of her buttocks, putting easy pressure that was both thrilling and frightening at the same time, the rest of his fingers cupping her rear.
“Relax,” he whispered, as his pinky finger pushed inside.
Her muscles clamped down on him immediately as she jerked, a slight grunt escaping her lips. It was one of surprise, not pain, but of course he didn’t know. He held perfectly still for long moments, watching her, while this thumb pressed against her knot, causing shudders to ripple through her.
“Chakotay…” she broke off in mid-sentence as his ring finger found another entrance, one that she was slightly more accustomed to. Her hand gripped the edge of the sheets, knuckles contrasting white against the dark color.
“It’s not supposed to hurt.” His words flowed over her like warm water, relaxing her gradually. He kept the pinky still while adding another digit aside his ring finger, caressing her smooth inner walls, his thumb flickering back and forth to ease the way. “If it’s done right, there’s no pain. Of course, I wouldn’t suggest trying it with just anyone…”
“Neither would I,” she breathed. The slight wave of disgust and the larger tidal wave of fear were fading. She was still in one piece. For the moment. She could feel his fingers rubbing together, as odd as it sounded – and felt – through the narrow passage of skin that he could easily tear, if he had any desire whatsoever to. Now, however, she couldn’t remember a time that she had felt so…complete.
His fingers were moving now, in and out, in tandem with each other, slowly, careful not to hurt her, urging her on to a place she had been before, both in her life and with him, but not at the intensity that she felt spiraling downward through her belly, into the pit of her stomach where it burst upon both of them, leaving her feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of her, reducing her to a quivering wreck in his arms. For long minutes afterward, she was still quivering, gulping air, trying hard to whisper words of love and endearment to him as he was to her, his face buried in her hair.
She was failing badly.
He spread the thick wetness along her, purposefully, all the while watching her with smoky eyes, eyes that filled to bursting with love and tenderness, sometimes nudging her with his lips at her ear or her cheek for a deep kiss that took her mind from all else. Then his hands were at her hips, rolling her to her stomach, grasping gently to heft her bottom into the air.
Another shiver passed through her as she felt his hardness behind her. His hands caressed her lovingly, slipping in and out, back and forth, as he pushed inside slowly, stopping every bit, waiting for any sign of pain or discomfort. To Kathryn’s amazement, there were none. None whatsoever.
“Are you all right?” he asked, stroking her back, leaning over her without entirely pinning her to the bed.
A nod was all she could manage as a sudden heaving climax took her by surprise, leaving her crying at the top of her lungs, body shaking with the intensity and tears streaming down her cheeks that pushed into a pillow. Then it was over, Chakotay was pulling out, turning her over onto her back where he wasted no time in entering her again.
“I wanted to see your face…” he whispered, stroking her face with one hand as the other held him propped above her, on one elbow. She knew she had to look awful, her eyes felt swollen, her cheeks were red and possibly raw from the friction of those terrible Starfleet-issue sheets, and she was still drawing deep breaths in hiccups.
“Please…” she pleaded with him, almost irrationally. “Please, Chakotay, I can’t, not again…”
“Yes you can,” he responded, lowering his weight on her, rolling them both to their sides, cuddling her close, still firmly embedded in her body. “Just relax.”
That was something she was not capable of. And yet, as he held her, occasionally stroking her back, murmuring unintelligble words into her ears, kissing her face and lips softly – no teeth, no tongues, just gentle reminders of his lips – she did relax. He radiated peace, and joy, and love most of all, and they began to consume her, wrapping her in a blanket of invisible fibers. She wound her hands around his back and snuggled next to his chest, sighing in contentment.
Chakotay smiled tenderly at her. “That’s my girl…” he murmured as rolled them back over, propping himself up again carefully, his thrusts long and sweet and gentle into her body.
She was aware of the sensations, almost like shooting stars into her belly, but lost herself in the depths of Chakotay’s ebony eyes, memorizing every line and feature of his face, his gentle, loving smile, the feel of his fingers on her skin as his hand moved to her breast. He tickled her until her nipples stood rigidly to attention, her sighs ending in a gasp. She watched as his expression changed, as he fought to keep his eyes open during his final thrusts into her body, and his strong arms lifted her from her pillows, holding her firmly against his chest. She felt the muscles ripple a fraction before hot liquid spurted into her insides, warming her pleasantly all the way to the pit of her belly, and cried out again at the sensations.
Afterwards, laying amongst the covers and pillows of her bed with him, sleepily watching him as he watched her, stroking her hair, she felt the need to ask him a question.
“Are you always this adventurous?” When had her voice changed, gone soft and smoky in that manner? He didn’t appear to notice, though if he did, he apparently liked it. His dimples quirked, and he kissed her gently before giving her a more evil, lecherous grin.
