detached
nc-17 | sexual content
His hands were rough - the result of fifty-plus years of working, reading, and digging at archeological sites in his spare time. It only increased her desire for him. He touched her cheek gently, running his thumb over her smooth skin. She wondered if he could feel the slightly-heavier-than-usual layer of makeup on her skin. He wondered if she could feel the slight shaking of his hand.
The implants were gone now, and he could no longer hear her voice in his head. Although originally a comfort to be alone in one's mind, he now silently wished for a glimpse of insight into her thoughts - some encouragement that what he was doing was right. His doubts were swiftly erased as she leaned into him, uniting their lips. Chaste at first, it quickly deepened as she pushed apart his lips with her tongue.
She stood up suddenly, and he stared at her in confusion until she took his hand and led him to his bed. Giving her a small smile, he pulled her sweater over her head, exposing previously forbidden flesh. They removed each others' clothing silently, and then he pushed her gently onto the bed.
He caressed her cheek again before lowering his mouth to hers, marveling in the fact that they were here. For so many years, she had been another man's wife. His best friend's wife. The wife of the best friend whose death was on his head. And then his co-worker. His subordinate. Her flesh was forbidden in more ways than one. But he tried not to think of this now. His lips and tongue made a journey from her mouth, down her neck, over her shoulders, and then to her breasts, painting each nipple with his saliva, feeling his pride swell as she moved underneath him, thrusting her chest towards him, silently asking for more contact.
She guided his hand to her center, letting his fingers glide in between her slick folds. As he suckled on one erect nub, then the other, he entered her with his fingers, smiling as he heard her sigh. She ran her own fingers over his head, massaging his scalp. Normally, she preferred men with long hair - it had been what attracted her to Jack when they first met, before he cut it short for Starfleet; what had attracted her to Odan, to Ronin, but with Jean-Luc...it was different. There was something about his bare scalp that made him...unbelievably sexy.
She surprised him by halting his strokes on her inner wall and rolling them over carefully, until she was on top of him. Grinning, she lowered herself onto his erection, his hands settling on her hips. He groaned loudly at the sensation of her heated core engulfing him. She flexed her muscles around him, causing him to cry out again. Running her hands up and down his chest, she began slowly, but increased speed, rising and falling against him rapidly. He watched her red-gold hair swing in the air as she rode him wildly. With one hand, he covered her junction, finding her little nerve bundle and stimulating it forcefully. She called out to him as she began to pump her body even faster. With one final slam, she exploded around him, bringing him to climax as well.
She lay on top of his body, smiling as he ran his fingers through her hair. He tilted her head up so that she could look into his eyes. He knew she had heard, if not the words, then the sentiment, when they were still attached, but he wanted to tell her himself - to offer her the words voluntarily, instead of having them stolen from his brain.
(fin.)