JL | Cmdr Valeese, LtCmdr Stacker | "Kilig" Pt 3/3 NSFW

Posted on Mon Mar 12th, 2018 @ 8:16pm by Commander Valeese Stacker
Edited on on Mon Mar 12th, 2018 @ 8:45pm

Mission: Lacuna
Location: Private Quarters / Cmdr Valeese

WARNING: Contents beyond this point are NSFW














He almost laughed in breathless relief, but the momentary impulse was quickly buried under a surge of desire that bordered on firestorm-like proportions. His face flushed and burned, not in embarrassment but in something else. Somehow, despite all this that was assaulting him, he retained hold of what little shred of decorum was left, gently nudging the two of them in the direction of an exit as an arm encircled her back and settled onto her hip. There was simply no way that he would be detached from her, at least right now. In hindsight, looking back at the moment, to some it might have seemed that he clung to the idea of contact with her like a drowning man in the ocean might hold onto a life ring. But at that point, and in that moment, he too was functioning on a sense of what seemed right and to hell with what others thought. "My quarters or yours," he whispered in her ear, eyes flicking between the side of her face and the doorway as it loomed closer.

With eyes finally open, Valeese was more than inclined to remain plastered to his side and follow his gentle lead in the direction of anywhere but where they were. Something warned that she was being careless, and something else just nodded giddily and shrugged in indication that the scientist and doctor had left the building for sake of the woman that had been carefully hidden and buried deep within. "I think mine are closer." She replied, vaguely aware of the husk that tainted her usually chime-like voice. It many ways the entire sentence seemed off color and perhaps wanton, but then again... So did the entire situation.

The corridors were empty, the night calling most to the arboretum and the hour dictating that those who hadn't attended either be blissfully asleep or on duty somewhere in some part of the station. For that, Valeese would eventually realize she was thankful for. There was still that bit of her that remained damnably concerned for the safety and sanctity of the man beside her and his profession. She knew there was a line being violated, a reason why they shouldn't be - and yet they tossed it to the four winds. When they disappeared into the lift, she was almost relieved. Or at least she would have been had she not been preoccupied with a man who offered tawdry kisses and touches so decadent they should have been illegal. Pressed between him and the lift wall, she was lost in a torturous world where technology refused to work fast enough for her liking and her propriety was quickly losing its strong hold. By the time they stumbled from the lift she was certain her knees were going to give out. The only thing that saved her was the virtuous sound of her door sliding open once they'd reached it and she'd keyed it open. "Join me?" She asked, gripping his hand, and tugging in invitation that he follow. It was very likely the last strong hold of her control, and it was fraying... Quickly.

He pushed her through the door, letting it hiss shut behind them. There in the quiet of her quarters, away from the noise and commotion of the masquerade, he no longer felt the chains that had strained to hold him back. Some very tiny part of his mind was sighing in relief that there was no fear of someone turning a corner, or more lighting being turned on, or ... The thought was buried under surging feelings, as his lips found hers again and his hand went to her ear, caressing it lightly, a single finger making its way down it to where it joined her neck, more fingers joining it there to brush the side of her skin. So soft he marveled, blindly unaware of what it was doing to her.

The sigh of chiffon highlighted the quiet as the layers of her gown caught up with the sudden flurry of movement. Normally it would have caught her attention, most sounds often did, but her ears were otherwise preoccupied. The stroke of his finger, sliding along the little ridges of cartilage that ran from tip to base had given her cause to melt against him and into his kiss once more. Valeese was nearly frozen, her breath caught with a hitch, and when it released it was in the form of his name mewled against his lips. Her fingers, trembling, tried their damnedest to work against that touch to free his buttons from their keeps - and all considered, that bit of control, and any second guessing, was gone. Destroyed.

That low mewling cry spurred him on. His hands found her trembling fingers and helped, doing the work while she recovered from the 'assault' that had left her pressing firmly against him in a way that made it near-difficult to get at and unfasten certain ones. When he finally succeeded in shoving the jacket down off his shoulders, it was ruthless fingers that pushed/pulled it hastily down to the wrists, where it finally shook loose and fell to the ground. But then it was her turn, and his fingers wasted no time in finding the zippers as his head bent to her neck, keeping her close as he dragged them down and exposed her to the air, murmuring reassurances into her ear as he did so, that slight tingling fear of suddenly waking up and finding this to be no more than a dream teasing the edges of his mind.

Air, cold, it rushed in to covet and caress each little bit of skin the drag of the zipper exposed in its downward wake. The bareness of her back wasn't an altogether new sensation, but what he did with it was. Valeese found her eyes once again closed, and his mouth and words and breath warm against the delicate shell of her ear. The coat was gone, and its absence something she was thankful of. It gave her a chance to gather up the plain cotton of his t-shirt and let it fall back over her wrists as she placed her hands against the heat of his belly and allowed herself the chance to memorize him by feel. The trip up to his chest drug the shirt along with those hands, pressing and stroking, claiming territory for her mind until it could go no further without her tugging and demanding the use of his arms be better spent on removing it from his body completely. Of course, it meant that he'd have to let go of her, leave it to chance that she may choose to step back and allow the chiffon gown to fall away and reveal rest of her to those hungry blue-gray eyes of his. In many ways her choice in costume had been a wise one when it came to the simplicity of exiting it - unlike him where, once the shirt had been swept from over his head, she found herself on a return trip south to undue his belt. Another paltry task made difficult by trembling hands, but yet she managed, and her lips found purchase against the center of his chest as she tugged the bit of leather free of his belt loops - an action that tugged his hips of center and away from her just long enough to encourage the undone gown to shift.

The belt fell, and with it slid the purple fabric of her dress. It whispered its defeat as it pooled around her ankles and feet and Valeese shivered in the cool air. The act of being vulnerable, of being so exposed... It was terrifying and liberating all at the same moment. It was all she could do to open those violet eyes and tip her little chin high enough to bring her gaze to his as if to gauge response, to understand if the intent and need and want still remained or if he'd somehow come to some new conclusion of his desire having waned while hers only continued to wax. Swallowing hard to rid herself of the knot forming in her throat, the Vorta reached for the clasp of his pants, but hesitated, fingers resting on the waist line.

The only thing that was coming back her way was lust. Burning, scorching, roasting. The excitement was palpable, but nowhere more so than around his eyes. Gone was any last semblance of the ghost: this was no chipped flint staring at her but a full-on wildfire that threatened to break loose at any second. As if further demonstration was needed, when the eyes finally latched onto her gaze there was a rumbling in his chest that was ... primeval. Animalistic. He actually growled at her as he bent over again, hands sliding down her back and below her waistline, brushing across skin that he had never seen, exploring and memorizing in a firm way that left little doubt of his intentions towards her. And then he was kissing her again, slowly, softly, working his from the corner of her mouth out along her jaw. Vaguely, he was half-conscious of a hand dropping to intermingle with hers on his waistband, guiding her to the clasp yet stopping there, leaving it to her to make the leap.

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.... her mind tried to recite that bit of Terran history, tried to remember it as sensibility continued to tailspin at a frightening pace. It was fueled by that sound, the one she'd both heard and felt. Fueled by the way he conquered the new and uncharted waters of her entire being. Fuel by those eyes that damn near threatened to consume her, and her own - darkened with the same smoke and husk that had colored her voice - only seemed to smile back and beckon him on. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure.... Funny that the word endure would punctuate that particular sentence. The sovereignty of herself had come under civil war. She wasn't sure which was the North and which the South, but one of them had won and run riot with her. Though her nervousness still ran as an undercurrent, the boldness of her superseded and won out with predilection for the idea of being his. The kisses, the growl, the hands. The way he guided her to what was easily considered chief among the final barriers between them... It allowed that side, the one that was winning, to jump firmly into the lead.

Valeese hummed, casting away any lingering remnants of Gettysburg the moment she undid that top button and unzipped his fly. Worse, she buried it by using his pockets as anchors and tugging the loosened pants carefully off his hips. Her head turned towards his kisses, catching his mouth with hers right around the time she felt his trousers scrape past her own knees on their way to catch about his boots, the thin fabric of his boxers following suit in favor of her fingers stroking the heated flesh of his hips.

Ghosts... Vorta... Didn't matter. All she wanted now was to be his and for him to make it so no matter the consequence come morning.


---

Time had lost meaning as a unit of measurement when at last Valeese regained the sensibilities necessary to put two and two together. She could feel him, hot and heavy as he rested against her - his breath coming as exerted puffs against the ultra-sensitive skin of her neck and ear. She shivered, finally having the strength to move her arms and draw her fingers along the length of his back. At first, they ran lazy circles along the pair of dimples that accented the small of his back just over the initial slope of his buttocks. They were a feature of his body that she found irresistible and precious - though not uncommon, they weren't something seen and found every day... And, if she goes right down to it, they added to his charm. She loved them. Loved him. As those fingers climbed higher along his cooling sweat slicked skin, the pads of them encountered the telltale divots of damage that her nails had left in their wake. rough bits of skin where scratches undoubtedly dwelt, crescent shaped craters where she'd dug in. All of it would heal, but the marks made what had happened a deeper sense of realism. While she couldn't see him - she didn't need to - she knew that he, like she, was reeling, processing the nature of the encounter and what it meant for them as a whole. Something told her that this wasn't a fly-by-night encounter, that this wasn't about scratching a momentary itch and adding another notch in the proverbial bed post. Too much passion. Too much drive. The deep-seated ache within her, the sting lasting along the side of her cheek where his stubble had rubbed and her neck where his teeth had pinched all acted as a sharp reminder that she was, without a doubt, his.

At long last her fingers found his hair and contours of his face. She could hear his heartbeat beginning to slow back to normal parameters, feel his respiration calming. "James..." Valeese finally breathed, finally daring to speak and his name was the only thing that wanted to pass her lips. Maybe it was stupid... Her decisions and thoughts wrong - but she wouldn't let that fear taint the moment now.

The single word was enough to recall him to the present, helping him collect and focus his scattered thoughts. When he arrived he shifted, and immediately was duly informed that he wasn't as young as he once had been. Muscles were starting to ache in protest at abuse the likes of which he hadn't delivered in years - if ever. His back stung as sweat began to cool against new cuts and sores rendered in the height of passion. One eye began to sting as sweat trickled into it, and when he stirred just right his knee and thigh tartly made clear that it might well rebel if there was any further activity half as strenuous as what it had just been forced to endure. But would he have given that up? Hell no! his brain seemed to chime as it finally sputtered back to life, completing his awareness of his surroundings and just what that delectable noise had been. "Val," he said, head turning towards the source, an unconscious hand sliding up her side as he raised himself up, a slight wince teasing his eyes as his back too registered its own discomfort and pronounced disapproval at such rampant misuse of particular muscles. He leaned down, lips finding hers in a small, slight way, making clear that whatever discomfort he might feel he still wholeheartedly approved of being this close to her.

Returning the kiss with a tiny little smile, she tried to encourage her own movement. The moment his weight was lifted, she became acutely familiar with a whole new round of sensations - many of them hardly what she'd consider pleasurable - and slowly found her way up and back against him. They were both ragged, tainted by sweat and the Gods only knew what else, and the only thing she could think to do required her to test her legs. Weak at the knees, she was still certain she could walk and with that knowledge possessed, she gripped one of his hands and gently tugged for him to follow. The couch could be dealt with at another time, her attention focused solely on him. "Come with me." She hummed, tugging towards where she knew the warm, comfortable, safe expanse of bed awaited.

The moment was tantalizing and passed too slowly in his opinion. At another time and place it might have been downright seductive, but those feelings had been temporarily purged from his body. It was only when they were safely through the doors and into her room that his mind caught up and began to take note of small details. The way she moved, which was far from her normal and graceful self. How her skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and her mussed hair. The bite marks on the side of her neck - and wouldn't that be interesting to explain! - and a slight patch on her cheek. He was too tired, and simply far too worn down, to process that last bit. It was only when the doors clicked shut behind them that he realized it was from the stubble on his face. A price paid for a decision to omit shaving, in favor of an authentic 'period appearance' at the masquerade. Just how was it going? he momentarily wondered. Were they missed? He dismissed the slight thought, choosing to continue to follow her lead, hoping with some element of fervent prayer that the Vorta's energy levels were not significantly higher than his own.

Bed. Sweet, glorious bed. Tugging back her heavy comforter and the top sheets beneath, she continued to lead him closer. It wasn't about seduction when she kissed his chest and guided him down onto the mattress - her own body following his until they were back to horizontal and cradled by the perfect support only bed could offer. Tomorrow would be a day filled with anti-inflammatories, pain meds, and on her end; makeup, she was sure. In honesty, Valeese couldn't have cared less... At least not for the moment. She was more taken by the easy way in which her head fit against his chest and her body melded to his as if that was her rightful resting place. It was girlish of her, but in her euphoria she couldn't help but take the time to allow for the starry eyed wonder she'd honestly doubted would ever be allowed to roost within her psyche. Tomorrow would be different. They'd go back to their normal routines and life would continue to sort itself out - but for just that night she allowed herself to bask in the serenity known as an afterglow. There, vulnerable and prone - her walls and guard completely absolved of duty - she allowed herself to fall asleep, warm and safe, in the arms of a man who's duty was to neutralize people like her.


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End
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Commander Valeese
Chief Medical Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170

&

Lieutenant Commander James Stacker
Chief Intelligence Officer
COLD STATION THETA, SB-1170