A couple of weeks ago, I gave myself the challenge of
writing something that was both romantic and sexy. So wishing everyone a
happy holiday, whatever it might be or have been, this is my challenge to
myself. It's my first sex scene, so hopefully, it will past muster.
Mary
Ships in the Night
by Mary Stacy
Sa/Am
NC17
She had spent five days on a dingy Altarian cruiser, with a board for a bed and
the barest hint of a sonic shower to get here, only her desire keeping her from
jumping ship. Now Amanda was at her destination, in the one spot where she
could cross paths with her husband for the first time in months. Here for
a single night before once again their paths would divert and he would be
sequestered for the next in a long series of treaty negotiations.
She was in an empty suite, the likes of which would have put the most lavish
whorehouse ever seen on Earth to shame. A profusion of red and black,
gold-plate and crystal, with a roaring fireplace, and a bed the size of a small
shuttle—maybe not the room of her dreams, but the room where she had expected
them to turn into reality. She stood amid all this decadence. Alone. Well, at least the sunken tub in the
corner of the room would allow her to feel clean for the first time in days,
she thought, half grumbling in resignation as she peeled the layers of clothing
off and slid into the warm, encompassing suds.
She scrubbed the days' old grime from her skin, first forcefully, and then more
tentatively as her hands slowed in memory of past passions. She let them slide
over the silken smoothness of her breasts, then downward, slipping to the empty
longing between her legs. She caressed herself for a few brief moments, hoping
to catch some sweet memory of him to compensate for the empty night. But it was
no use. She pulled up from the tub's blank embrace, dried herself off, and
crawled into the silken sheets, naked but for her unfulfilled desires.
Curling herself around a pillow, she allowed a single tear to fall before
letting sleep overcome her.
Amanda didn't know how long she had been asleep, but she was half awake now in
the night, realizing how warm the room had become, throwing the covers away
from her body. It was as if…
She felt it first as it stirred gently over her body, bidding her to fully
awaken. The air seemed to ripple and pull, and she could feel the heat between
her legs rising.
"Sarek," she sighed, a breath of hope, afraid to open her eyes for
fear she would find it was indeed only a dream. Then she felt the trace of his
fingers along her arms and she shuddered involuntarily. She opened her eyes,
first taking in the length of him in the gleaming firelight, then traveling to
his face, drawing it to her, letting it fill her small hands. She gazed for a few moments into the
green-gold of his eyes, before bringing his lips to hers in a kiss filled with
a promise to never let go, which held until all her breath was gone.
He pulled back searching her eyes, "I had thought you might be gone before
I could arrive."
Looking at her husband as if her heart might break with the thought of having
missed him, as she shook her head. "As long as I could dream, I could hope
that you would get here."
Amanda's hand roved the length of his long arm, then trailing down to his
thigh. He sat on the edge of the bed his broad yet slender body naked and
golden in the flickering glow of the flames, filling her eyes with delight and
desire. She had missed him so much.
He took her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers, the heat of it flowing
through her palm and up the length of her arm. They locked eyes for a long
moment, hers open, smiling and filled with want, his with that gentle, loving,
almost timid light that was hers alone.
Easing his fingers from hers, he allowed the back of his hand to play along her
too-eager flesh. His touch alone forced a moan from her as she shivered in
anticipation of what her aching body knew what was to come. Hungrily, she took
hold of his right hand allowing her mouth and tongue to flick their way along
each of his fingers then into the cup of his palm. She felt the soft brush of his breath as he burrowed his head
against her neck, tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue, as his left
traced the path of her body, first playing the bud of each nipple till they each
started echoing the increasing hardness of his own, then continuing to travel
down to her navel, allowing his thumb to rest in its hollow for but a moment
before moving his fingers to their final destination, in the eager space
between her legs. Taking time to allow
his fingers to play upon those lips, which rose and spread in welcome to a
too-long-missed touch, playing the nub between them as a virtuoso on his finest
instrument. She squirmed beneath him calling his name as one quick spasm
after another raced though her, until she could be apart from him for not
another movement.
Amanda nudged her husband's shoulder toward the bed, guiding him onto his
back. Covering the length of him with kisses, each more furtive than the
next, until they became gentle nips against the hard-toned muscle beneath his
flesh. She swiftly advanced to the source of her needed ministrations, knowing
that the
differences between them required him the more time. She took him in her hands, expertly massaging the length of his
manhood till she felt it grow and harden within her expect grasp. She
then let her tongue play itself along the ridges and tip, finally taking its
head within her mouth and teasing its slit until a great moan rose from within
his chest and she knew he was now ready.
She eased herself unto him, letting him fill her, until they were locked tight
in the most intimate of embraces, each one a mass of aching need for the
other. He pulled her head to his chest his hands kneading her hair, her
back, her hips, their actions becoming more and more frantic. He seemed
to swell even more within her, until she felt she would burst from joy or pain,
or perhaps both, suspended in a moment of almost unendurable passion.
Deeply, her release resounded through every inch, a sharp moan issuing from her
lips. Even as she came, she felt his rocking become more and more
insistent. She bore down upon him with
an increasing pressure, tightening and releasing in a counter pace, distinct,
yet in harmony with the rhythm of his body, each release bringing a gasp from
him until he finally shuddered in the long, encompassing climax that drew her
in as well, a spontaneous cry springing from both of their throats. His
movements then slowly abated, until he rested exhausted still within her, her
body draping his in a motion both possessive and possessed.
For a little while they lay still, no motion but the slow steady beating of her
heart against the rapid fluttering of his. In a time, he brought his arms up
around her, letting them slowly trace the length of her back. Amanda pulled up
a bit, taking in her husband's chiseled features in the now softening
firelight. She bent to kiss him, tentatively at first, then more
insistent, with a reply in kind of passions mounting yet again.
Sarek rolled her over onto her back, never allowing himself to loosen from
within her body's depths. She brought up her legs, wrapping them around his
hips and drawing him back further within her. Then the dance between began
again, and did not end until dawn and exhaustion overcame them both.
There was an indentation in the pillow next to hers where his head had lain,
and within its curve a single red rose—not a bud, but one ripened wide. And
under it a note, in his slender, cursive hand.
"You open to me as the petals of your rose, enclosing and
capturing me within your depth. Where it within my control, I would never
have you let me go."
She held the note to her face and breathed as deeply as she could, taking in
and savoring every remaining trace of the scent that spoke his name.
It had better not be another four months of waiting.