The wait for the turbolift seems neverending. He came so close to losing her, to the Borg and to disagreement. He wants to hold her in his arms already. He wants to tell her he loves her. He can settle for waiting though, for waiting and for speaking with his body instead of his words. He’s become a master of kisses and embraces that say more than most people’s love letters. It is so much more than he’s had to hope for in the last few days. He drinks in the sight of her, whole and here, forcing his expression back to something neutral as a crewmember steps out of the turbolift when the doors open.
There’s another Ensign in the turbolift with them, and Chakotay does his best to stare anywhere but at his Captain. They don’t need to reignite Tom Paris’ betting pool.
They finally make it back to her quarters. She miskeys her keycode twice in what he thinks is impatience. Finally, the doors slide open and they step inside. The doors have barely closed before she ‘s in his arms, body pressed so tightly against him he can feel every curve of her body.
“Kathryn…” he groans into her mouth, her hands and his mirror each other as they both trace the other’s face, mouths crashing together.
His hands are on her uniform, pulling at the restrictive layers until the top half of her body is bared to him in all of its translucent splendor. His mouth moves downward slowly, exploring her neck, shoulders and chest. His hands cup her breasts as her hands clasp his hair, pressing him closer against her.
“Chakotay...” She moans as he lowers his mouth, tongue flicking against one of her nipples and then his breath drifts across her cooling skin, the other breast still teased by one of his hands. His other hands works at the fastening of her pants, his mouth drifting lower, across her ribcage and down her stomach, before finding her newly exposed hipbones and sucking on one has he massages the other with his strong fingers.
He lets his hands follow the curves of Kathryn’s backside and her thighs, nuzzling his face against the fabric of her panties, kissing just beyond the edge of the fabric. As he brings his fingers around to her inner thighs, he can feel the dampness already soaking through. Encouraged, he places his mouth against the cloth, tongue pressing at sensitive skin through the friction of the barrier, finding her clit through it and sucking insistently. As much as he loves the feeling of her soft skin against his, he’s learned that the resistance of thin material between them drives her wild.
“Chakotay!” She cries, his name on her lips sounds so sweet, as he thrusts his tongue between the folds of her opening, still leaving her panties between them.
“Let it out.” He begs her, “Tell me…”
“I need to feel you…” She moans, prompting him to drag the sodden material down her shaking legs, backing up enough to let her kick the bunched up clothes and her boots away, leaving her naked in front of him.
He wastes no time in closing the distance, mouth tasting her with unimpeded access at last.
“Like this?” He murmurs against her swollen flesh.
“Oh... Yes!” She moans, guiding him closer with her hands buried in his hair.
He runs one hand gently up and down her inner thigh, as his tongue laps against her inner wall, his other hand pressing against her clit, until she comes undone, not once but a few times in rapid succession. Each time, the pitch of her of voice goes up, waves of pleasure coming closer and closer together.
Don’t ever do that to me again! He wants to cry. I love you! I can’t live without you! But that is against the unspoken rules of this. He can hold her in his arms, make her explode with his hands and tongue and cock, but only when she starts it, and he can’t say what it means to him.
Instead he lets her pull him up her body and reclaim his mouth with her own, licking the evidence of her pleasure from his lips and jaw, as she begins to undress him. His erection springs free in relief as she divests him of his clothing with an admirable efficiency, her small pale hands tracing his skin with a fervor that is contagious, stopping to explore some of her favorite spots in more detail as her mouth invades his.
“Bedroom.” She commands, husky voice rougher than usual, leading him backwards in that direction without releasing her hold on him.
He tumbles backwards onto her bed, and she stands there for a minute, eyes raking over him hungrily. She kneels down at the foot of the bed, starting with kissing his ankles as she massages his feet, then working her way up his legs and stomach, to his chest, hands holding him still as she explores the tender flesh of his inner elbows and the pulse point against his neck.
“Kathryn!” he cries, beginning to lose control even though she hasn’t touched him between his legs at all yet. Her nails graze lightly down his body as she slides back down, mouth finally finding the head of his cock and teasing it lightly, one hand massaging his balls, pinky resting behind them.
Her touch is gentle but confident and he has to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands to keep from exploding in her mouth. She likes to make him do that he knows (enjoys the power), but today they don’t have the time for him to recover and he is certain that they both want to feel him inside of her.
“Please!” He implores, and fortunately doesn’t have to ask twice. She’s up against him in a flash, sliding her dripping opening along the length of him with a gentle rock of her hips as she kisses him deeply, before changing the angle without warning.
He finds himself buried inside of her in one swift motion, the warm wet pressure of her walls all around him and their pelvises pressed together. Her head rolls back as she arches her back, his hands a steadying force on her hips as she rocks against him with building intensity.
He sits up against her, pressing their bodies together, her breasts rubbing against his chest and she wraps one hand around his neck, the other pressed against his face.
He wants to tell her he loves her. He wants to beg her never to push him away again. Instead he says it with his eyes, his mouth, the strokes of his hands against her skin. Their bodies shake against one another as their thrusts became more emphatic. He runs his hands up and down her legs; she presses her fingers into the muscles of his back until she starts to spasm around him, pushing him over the edge as they collapse against one another, him still buried inside of her.
“I’m sorry.” He is convinced he hears her whisper into his neck and he strokes her hair in response, not daring to acknowledge it verbally, not daring to tell her he’s the one who is sorry. She lifts her face to him and he kisses her, softer now that the urgency has faded.
I love you. I love you. I love you. Every kiss is another unspoken declaration. She kisses him back, thumb tracing his face, and he wants to believe that it is her way of saying the same thing.
“I don’t want to go back.” She shudders, letting her feelings surface in her words, “Not yet.”
Chakotay reaches for his comm badge, “Chakotay to Tuvok.”
The vulcan’s voice comes through, “Yes Commander?”
“The Captain and I need to go over some reports. Do you mind holding down the bridge for a while?” It is a presumption, but he hopes she won’t mind.
“Acknowledged.” Tuvok replies, “Take as long as you need.” His tone is neutral, but Chakotay wonders if he knows exactly what is going on. It would be just like him, not to say anything. Maybe he thinks that it is logical, after all, who else can either of them cling to?
“I hope you don’t mind…” He begins, but is silenced by her lips on his. He leans back onto the bed, bringing her down on top of him. They shift, curling around one another, and before long she’s fallen asleep in his arms.
“You are never alone.” He whispers into her hair as she sleeps, before following her into unconsciousness.
He needs this as much as he does what came before, the trust, the comfort. He’s pretty sure she does too, otherwise she wouldn’t allow it. Chakotay knows the way he lays the responsibility for all their boundaries at her feet isn’t exactly fair. He’s never pressed, always letting her make the decisions regarding what they can and can’t be with one another. Still, he’s never made his feelings on the matter a secret; they both know that he will take whatever she gives him, that he is willing to fill any need she might let him. He supposes they communicate a great deal for two people who don’t actually talk about their relationship. For all her reluctance to embrace it, Chakotay knows where she stands, knows why she puts up these boundaries.
He wakes to her mouth on his cock, teasing him to hardness despite the oversensitive ache in his balls from having climaxed in the last few hours. He’s not as young as he once was. She looks up as him, eyes full of mischief as her tongue swirls around the base of him and can’t help grinning back.
He sits up, pulling her torso up against his and their lips brush softly against one another. He caresses the back of her neck, just below the hairline, knowing how sensitive that spot is. She sucks lightly on the ear she once accused him of playing with constantly, a nervous habit. In this moment, it is as if they have left the Captain and First Officer and their quarrels behind and only two lovers remain in the bed.
He rolls them over, holding himself up on his forearms as he caresses her skin, drinking her in, until she pulls him down onto her, arching her hips up against him, hands pulling him down onto her using her grip on his behind. The flood of sensations of her around him is still overwhelming, but their earlier lovemaking has taken the edge off, and this time it is easier to take things slow, pressing his forehead against hers as she squeezes him firmly with each thrust of her hips.
I could spend eternity locked together with her. He thinks. I could never get sick of the feeling of her or those little noises she makes.
Of course that’s exactly why he can’t disagree with her need for boundaries. They can’t afford to be locked up in a lovers’ cocoon. The crew needs them. They aren’t some lovesick teenagers blowing off gym class. Still, even commanding officers stuck in the Delta Quadrant needed to let go of their responsibilities sometimes.
“Chakotay…” Kathryn mewls, breath trembling as their bodies pressed together, each thrust pressing him deep inside of her. He presses a finger against her lips and she takes it between them, sucking in rhythm with their movement and before he knows it they are both climaxing, a long deep shuddering orgasm that sends aftershocks through both of their bodies.
He crawls down her body, holding her convulsing legs as she squirms under him, over sensitized and writhing uncontrollably as he he puts his mouth and tongue to good use. She screams his name, over and over, as he provides her no respite from stimulation and eventually the space between peaks disappears as she goes hoarse.
When you don’t know when you will get your next chance, you learn to make the most of each time.