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Under Your Spell

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Jim was as close to screaming as ever. With frustration, with his body bordering on pain as he fought not to come. His eyes were clenched shut, his back was arched off the bed.

He was possibly the most beautiful sight Spock had ever set his eyes on.

"Sp-Spock," Jim gasped, "please, please let me come, I can't..."

"No." Spock put his hand in the middle of Jim's chest and gently, but firmly pushed him back down. "You will not find your release until I allow you."

The sound that escaped Jim's wet lips made Spock want to spread him further and do what Jim was pleading for him to do. However, he knew that for all Jim's begging, he enjoyed this as much as Spock did.

He ran his hand over Jim's body. Not quite touching, but enough to feel the small hairs of the body rise in the wake of his touch. It was like running his hand over a small electric current and Spock felt his own body attempt to react to the delicious stimuli. On some occasions, having such sensitive hands could be inconvenient, but in this situation it made every almost-touch and every brush of skin to skin feel almost decadent.

A decadence Spock was ...happy to indulge.

Leaning in over Jim, he was careful not to touch their bodies together. It would happen soon enough. Until then, the sweet taste of expectation was exactly what they both needed. Looking down, Spock met Jim's eyes. The pupils were blown wide, leaving very little visible of the almost electrical blue that had drawn Spock from the first time he'd set eyes on Jim Kirk. Even if the venue had been less than ideal, they had overcome many an obstacle in their way since then and become the antithesis to adversaries.

To have Jim in his bed, willingly submitting to him, warmed Spock deep inside, humbled him, even.

"Spock, I'm gonna come whether you want me to or not," Jim gasped, writing on the bed, hands fisted in the sheets.

"You will not," Spock said, keeping his voice even.

"I will!" Jim almost shouted. "Look, I'll come with or without being touched, Spock. Deal with it."

"If you insist." Spock slid his fingers onto Jim's face, leaning over his captain's body. The meld was initiated as easily as it always was, even if it felt more chaotic during intimacy than most other times.

Jim's face was almost comically frozen in surprise, but Spock barely noticed. Inside Jim's mind was the most amazing chaos. Chaotic order, or perhaps orderly chaos. Spock was unsure how to describe it. What it was, however, was amazing.

Spock steeled himself. If he was not careful, Jim's loss of control, his spiraling into pure desire, would undo Spock as well. Finding the right nerves of the pleasure center of Jim's mind, he halted them. Froze them in time.

Jim's body stilled for a moment, tense beyond comfort. Then he shook several times, falling flat onto his back. "Spock, you mean-spirited, pointy-eared bastard!" he howled.

Spock didn't answer, but merely raised an eyebrow, allowing Jim to see some of the mirth on his face.

"Spock, let me come, please, pleasepleaseplease." Jim's voice was broken and cracked and caused Spock to shiver with pleasure. He was doing this, keeping Jim on the edge.

"Patience, Jim . All in due time, as you would say," Spock told him, fingers still on the meld-points, still keeping Jim from coming by controlling his body's responses.

Spock finally broke the meld, but he knew that Jim's body would continue to fight the climax for a few more moments, that the suggestions he'd planted in there would keep it at bay for that long at least. Backing up, he sat back on his haunches at the bottom of the bed and checked that the tube of lube was still there, before putting his hands on Jim's ankles, the skin slick and slippery under his own dry hands.

Holding the legs down, he looked up at Jim who was staring down at him with feverish eyes.

Rubbing the veins that were standing out on Jim's ankles, he felt the blood rushing through, could feel the pulse beating so very fast. He kept Jim's gaze for another zero point five minutes, then nodded slowly. "You may come, Jim." With the command he nudged the suggestions deeper into the bond between them.

For a split second, Jim's eyes widened, then he squeezed them shut, and at the same time it felt as if he was trying to lift himself off the bed, arching his back, while tearing at the sheets, his cock twitching where it lay flush against his abdomen. The sound that escaped him was close to a howl.

Semen shot up to cover his chest and stomach and Spock watched avidly. "Fascinating," he said, staring at the come spattering Jim's heaving chest. His own voice was losing some of its control and he decided that he would move to the next stage of the night's pleasure. He noticed the light bruising on Jim's ankles but moved on to pick up the lube and drop it next to Jim's hip, making note of the tremors still shaking Jim's body.

"That was zero point five decibel above what was needed to be heard in the hallway," Spock whispered, watching Jim lick his lips. "I suggest you restrain your vocal reaction this time." He knew perfectly well that Jim wouldn't even try and the truth was Spock quite enjoyed Jim's vocal appreciation of their sexual congress.

Leaning forward, he grabbed Jim's thighs and forced them further apart, urging his legs up over Spock's shoulders. It felt almost decadent and very illogical to want the whole ship to hear what he was doing to its captain. However, Spock would take a leaf out of Jim's book and not really care.

The end