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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: DS9--05.txt
Authors name: The Phantom (Address Unknown)
Archive-title: Deep Space 9
Part 5 of 5
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She felt icy metal at her own back and his fists at her neck and
realized that she had been backed into the headboard, pressed into it
as Julian pressed into her. At first, she tried to push him away,
her hands at his driving hips, but then told herself -- He is yet in
his bonds. He is yet bound. Her head fell back, and his mouth was
at her neck, then her shoulder. I am not breaking training, his or
mine. He is bound. His hands grasped her hair firmly, tightly; she
could not move her head. He is yet bound, she told herself again.
He is still in his bonds. She felt the pounding as he drove himself
into her, wildly. Opening her eyes, she saw him -- eyes closed, jaw
clenched, his body shining and taut as wire, unreasoning, unthinking,
and realized the horror she was allowing to occur, the damage she was
doing to him. Firmly, she placed her hands against his hips to hold
them away from her, hold them still, but such was his energy that he
easily overpowered her with his wild thrusting. "Doctor," she whis-
pered but he did not hear. The only response was a sound low in his
throat as he buried his face in her damp hair, a sound halfway be-
tween moan and howl.
His thrusting continued, and she realized that she had to stop him
now, before his training was ruined forever, before his wild im-
patience to unite with her overrode his tenuous training in control.
"Doctor!" she cried, and this time got a wordless inarticulate reply.
She finally grasped his pounding hips with a grip of iron that took
all her strength, stilling them completely. For the first time since
the initiatory lesson, she felt him seriously struggling against her,
pushing with all his might to overcome her hands and drive into her
harder and further. His eyes were wild and unreasoning as he looked
at her; were he coherent they might have been incredulous. As it
was, he could only stare at her, fighting her hands, tightening his
embrace around her, trying with everything he had to be inside her
again. After a time, he found his voice.
"Lady . . . " It was urgent, its inherent softness obliterated by
his mad desire. "Please, Lady, no . . . " The words came faster,
tumbling out. "Please . . . please let me be inside you again . . ."
Panic began to surface. "Please!" he cried and began fighting her
strong hands again, pushing his hips forward as his body strained to
be close to hers. "Lady, please . . . " he begged. She shook her
head.
"Not like this." Her voice was a whisper, edged with her own frus-
tration and desire, and anger at herself.
"But Lady, why?" was all he could ask, all he could plead. His fists
became ironlike rocks.
"Doctor, I can't!" she hissed. "I already nearly destroyed your
training with my stupidity. I've nearly thrown away all my own
training because of my own shortsighted desire for you." She paused
to get her own breath back, fighting her own wanting, wanting that
she hadn't felt since she had completed her training as teacher. "I
can't let that happen!" His skin was slick and wet; one more thrust
would wrench his hips out of her hands, and he would be in her again.
She tightened her grip on him until her nails dug into his soft skin.
"Doctor, I have my vows to think of . . . "
"I want you," he whispered back to her, his eyes roving over her
face, his mouth closing on hers until she felt his breath. "I just
want you . . . "
"You are here to learn control," she replied. "This," she nearly
waved to indicate both of them until she remembered that she dare not
move her hands, "is not control . . . "
"But Lady," and his voice dropped until she felt she would melt from
its sensuous intensity, "I don't want control right now . . . " He
ran his mouth over her neck, so lightly and exquisitely that her hair
began to stand on end. She felt his tongue at her throat, at her
pulse, and shivered. "I want you . . . "
"You'll have me, and I you," she told him. "But slowly, slowly."
She inhaled. "Please, Doctor. This is not as it should be."
"It should be . . . I should be . . . inside you, Lady." If she had
thought his eyes burned before, it was as nothing compared to the
fire in them now. "Forever."
Her heart convulsed. "Would you leave the Fleet, your position?" He
was silent at this. "Would you give up all that you have now for
something you do not understand? You do not know what a consort is,
or does. You do not know life on Ishtar, among my people. You
barely know daily life on my ship, Doctor!" Her voice nearly broke.
"I cannot accept your fealty. Please do not ask me again!" There
was silence, and then --
"Must it be as consort?" he asked, and his defenselessness almost
paralyzed her. He lowered his eyes, and his lashes looked long
enough to brush his cheeks.
Her head shook once. "It must, with my vows. Teachers such as
myself may not bind themselves to a man unless it be as consort."
She closed her eyes. "And to be consort, you must leave the Fleet."
He said nothing, only bowed his head, nestling it against her
shoulder. "I will be back, Doctor, my beautiful pupil." She lifted
one hand to clasp his dark head to herself. "I will return to this
station, I promise."
"How long?" he asked, after a painful silence.
"What with the independence on Bajor, the market for traders such as
myself has grown. Normally, I would only pass by here once in a
lifetime. Now, it may be as soon as four or five months."
Five months . . . ! It wasn't until she stroked his hair and toyed
with its waves, making a comforting shushing sound, that he realized
he had spoken aloud, and with all the despair he felt.
"Until then," she said gently, "we have the time we have, Doctor.
Two more hours." She kissed his head softly. "Let us make the most
of them."
"I know . . . I know that I said this before," he began, "but, Lady,
I'm yours." His gentle lips caressed her cheek. "Yours."
"Then," she smiled, "let us resume the lesson . . . my lovely pupil."
Again, they kissed deeply, and the room was silent but for the sounds
of their mouths against one another. The scent of their desire hung
heavily in the fading candlelight as the taper finally burnt to its
socket, leaving them in darkness together for long moments, a dark-
ness they shared in a simple comforting embrace, saying and doing
nothing, but merely sharing the closeness of warm bodies, each feel-
ing the other's rhythmic breathing. Then, "Lamps on low," she said
finally, managing to make it sound sensuous. Immediately, the flame
lamps rose from their slumber, casting shadows on the walls and turn-
ing Julian's dark rich hair into a jet cap ringed by a halo of gold.
His face was in shadow, but his features were still highlighted by
shadows on shadows, sharp and smooth and beautiful. His Lady caught
her breath in amazement. One hand rose to his cheek, and he leaned
into the caress. His eyes were in shadow; all that she could see was
the devotion that shone from them, from out of their velvet depths.
He turned his head, placing his lips against her wrist until he could
feel her pulse, rapid even for one of her race. They drew together,
led by the tether that had sprung up between them, until they met in
warmth and lost themselves, each in the other.
Her hands moved at his hips, hands that had recently left nail marks
in his skin. They now slid gently over him, languidly sliding over
the soft skin, feeling the curves and textures of his body. They
wandered to his waist, his slender waist, then to his back and shoul-
ders, now dry and velvetly. She felt the muscles there moving under
the skin as he lifted his arms -- still bound -- around her and drew
her even more tightly against him. Her mouth once again found his
pulse, and her tongue traced it out to behind his jaw. Against her,
he shivered. His hips moved forward, and she whispered only one word
to him: "Patience." She felt him nod.
Again, he entered her -- slowly, gently, with easy grace. Their
bodies met, and Julian understood her desire, her wish to keep this
as it was. The frantic grasping he had nearly given in to was as
nothing compared to the electric unity he felt now -- in each instant
of this togetherness, there was something to delight in, nothing to
rush through. In each movement of hers and his, there was a new
sensation -- every part of her was a part to take individually, in
his mouth, his fingers, with his tongue, and experience. He felt her
doing the same thing to him, taking each part of him, the entire
surface of his body, and devoting long slow minutes to it. As she
moved, he was acutely aware of his body against hers, her legs around
him, her breasts pushed against his bare chest, their gentle softness
and the strength of the muscles underneath. Gently, he began to
thrust back and forth, back and forth. He could feel the excitement
build in him, and he forced himself to retain the slow, easy rhythm.
Patience, she had said. He looked into her eyes, large and tip-tilt-
ed and no color he had ever seen before, and had no problem maintain-
ing the languid tempo. All of her was something to be treasured, and
he would die rather than rush any part of it. He would die rather
than keep this time with his Lady from lasting one minute longer than
it might. It would not be forever, but he would make it seem so, and
with the discipline and control she had taught him.
Again, her nails went down his back, but this time he did not start.
Only a softly voiced sigh broke between his lips, trembling against
hers. His spine arched, pushing his body yet harder into her own,
and his head fell back as far as the collar would allow. With elec-
tric sensitivity, he felt her arm around his waist, holding him to
herself, and her other hand against his chest as she watched his
supple body curve away from hers in the liquid lamplight. Lazily,
she leaned with him, drawing whirls and spirals with her tongue
against his chest. He was beginning to shine once again, the hot
thin sweat of wanting, and as she looked down at herself -- at her
own breasts rising and falling, at her hard stomach, at her hips
joined to his -- she saw that she was as well. Her eyes remained at
their paired hips, and she could just see the barest edge of him
entering and pulling away slowly between her muscular thighs, could
just hear the faintest liquid sounds of friction between their skins.
She looked up then, into his deep eyes, to see him watching her as
she watched. His arousal flared, and he pressed himself against her
even more firmly, all the while maintaining the same slow rhythm, the
same lazy pace. All the time in the universe . . . for the next
two hours.
She buried her fingers in the dark waves of his hair and pulled his
face against hers, softly thrusting her tongue between his delicate
lips. Gradually, she began to mimic his rhythm inside her until they
were swallowing one another in time, in slow time. With a jolt, she
realized that this was the first time she had ever followed any man's
lead, the first time she had not directed action. The thought was
rapidly chased away, however, by the dizzying sensations she was
drowning in. Maiden, Mother, and Crone, she thought hazily, what a
consort he would make.
He pulled away from her suddenly, stilling their undulations. His
eyes were closed. "Lady . . . " he trailed off, his gentle voice
holding onto the word.
"Control," she whispered back to him, fondling his jaw lovingly as
she saw his jet lashes fluttering. They were both silent for long
agonizing moments. Then, "Are you ready?" she asked him. He nodded.
"Yes . . . " he replied with sensuous sibilance. And he resumed, for
a brief time -- only a scant few minutes. He pulled away from her
more urgently this time, his jaw clenched.
Through trembling lips, he breathed, "Lady . . . I don't think . . ."
His eyes were wide, filled with despair and pleading. She caressed
his soft skin, his beautiful buttocks, with her gentle hands.
"Doctor," she replied, her voice feathery and light, filled with
understanding, "this is only your second lesson." She leaned forward
and kissed his cheek. "You have done far more . . . progressed
further than I would have imagined possible for a novice." He only
swallowed at her words.
"But, I . . . " He broke off and a chill took him, making his slick
body stand out with goosebumps.
Her mouth moved against his skin. "You have pleased me, Doctor."
She paused. "More than any other pupil, or any other man." She took
his hips then, and pushed them against her own, rocking back and
forth as she thrust for him. "I give you this." Her rocking became
more and more forceful, her strong arms taking over for him, giving
him what he meant to have, what he deserved.
He shuddered under her hands, and gasped. Overcoming her own rhythm,
his body pressed into hers as the wave broke over him. Like iron,
she felt him slamming into her, saw him as he lost control finally --
as he must -- heard his wonder and peaking pleasure expressed in his
beautiful voice. Again, his head was thrown back -- this time by a
force beyond him, and his spine whipped, throwing him into her over
and over. She clasped him to her fiercely, feeling his taut, slim
body shuddering with the seizures that had taken him, crashing into
her with a strength which he did not normally possess. She felt him
driving into her as deeply as anyone had ever been, filling her as
she took him in, stretching her sacred gateway deliciously. With
sudden passion, she clutched at him, her arms tightening around his
back and she wished that he need never leave. Doctor, she thought
silently, how I wish you could remain in me . . . for all time.
Nearly weeping, she buried her face in the warm skin at his neck,
moistened with his excitement, and clasped his body to hers even
harder.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Here." She handed him his other uniform. "I took the liberty of
retrieving it from your quarters while you were sleeping."
He took it without a word. They had spent the last three quarters of
an hour in the warm spa, his head nestled against her chest, her arms
cradling him while the water lapped at them both and the synthesized
breezes carried the jasmine past their intertwined bodies.
Conversation had been sporadic. He had tried so hard to convince
himself that it would last forever, and had failed. And now, here
she was, handing him his Starfleet uniform, about to leave on a
voyage that would take her away from him for months, take her away.
Closing his eyes, he recalled the bloodwarm water, the feel of her
wet skin under his cheek as he lay against her, the feel of her body
against his as she held him.
As he pulled on his uniform, his eyes found the bed, rumpled from his
past lesson. From the headboard, his collar still hung, limp and
empty. Without a word, his Lady walked to the bed, her body covered
for the first time since he had originally seen her in the infirmary
-- years ago. Without a word, she unlocked the ring that held the
collar to the headboard, walked toward Julian Bashir, and silently
held it out to him. He took it as well.
"This should remain on board my vessel," she told him. "Custom."
She took his hands in hers. "But sometimes customs are meant to be
broken." She paused, regarding him. "It belongs with you. When I
return . . . bring it with you. Perhaps," she smiled wryly, "we may
determine next time how it fits me."
His eyes shot to her face, the wing brows raised in a question.
"There are, after all, other lessons to be taught, dear Doctor." Her
hands ran over his smooth cheeks. "Dear beautiful Doctor."
He attached his rank button to the collar of his uniform shirt and
only looked at her. Suddenly, on an impulse, he knelt before her,
and his eyes -- those eyes that had touched her so deeply, been late-
ly so filled with excitement, with fire -- gazed up at her. He took
her hands. "Lady," he said, his voice filled with such measureless
devotion, and he could not continue. His gaze dropped.
Her hand touched his dark head gently. "I understand," she said to
him, and, after a moment's indecision, she knelt in front of him,
faced him as an equal. He moved to kiss her, but she put her hand
against his chest, against his uniformed chest, and stopped him.
"Not without your bonds, Doctor," she said sadly.
"I understand," he echoed, dropping his arm from around her waist.
He held the collar against himself like a talisman, clutching it.
Together, they rose.
"You're due in the infirmary in ten minutes," she told him.
"Yes."
"And I'm due to depart in ten minutes as well." She regarded the
docking plan on the viewer near the entrance to her ship. "There is
a Vulcan ship due to dock in this very place then, and I must be gone
for them to do so." She took him in her arms, then -- and again he
felt the closeness, the unity, he had felt while his body had been
against hers, inside hers, touching completely and not through awful
clothing. They did not kiss.
After long minutes, they released one another. "I . . . " he began,
but trailed off.
"I know."
His hands tightened around the collar, still damp with his sweat.
His legs felt like lead as he walked toward the docking entrance, his
Lady behind him.
"Five months," she said to him. "It will pass."
"Like five centuries." She shook her head.
"No. Your life will continue, Doctor. You will find things with
which to occupy your time. Dangers, adventures, the things you came
here for." She shrugged. "I . . . I will find opportunities, worlds
for trading," a sly smile, "and gambling halls for cheating." This
brought the smile she longed to see to his lips. "And when I return
here, I will find you, and you me. And the lessons will resume."
"Lady," he whispered, his voice colored with urgency as the bay door
rolled back, presenting the lonely and silent corridor to him. "I'm
yours."
"I know," she replied and touched his face, his brow. She turned
then, and walked back into her ship. The entrance slid open, and she
turned back to see him standing in the airlock bay entrace, framed by
the door, holding the collar in his hands.
"Five months," she repeated.
"Five months." And the entrance closed over her, cutting her off
from him with a pain that was nearly concrete in its intensity. He
stepped back from the airlock as the door rolled back into place with
formidable solidity. He heard the faint clicks of the safeties
loosing, then the rumble of her engines. As he watched, the Ariad
shot away from the docking ring, its aft end glowing with the power
of her warp drive. He would have stood there longer, watching until
her glowing ship, her presence, was gone from the sky, but his duty
to the station, his job, was once more present in his mind. Checking
a chrono set into the wall, he saw that he had two minutes until he
was due in the infirmary.
His fists tightened on the collar again, and he looked down at it in
his hands. Still shimmering blue and silver, it was yet damp. His
eyes closed in memory, and he swallowed. One last glance out the
port was all he allowed himself, and he turned away. His steps
echoed in the silent corridor.
Five months . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It’s okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with strangers. But
it isn’t okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with strangers!! You only
have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 6
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