Story Notes:
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: The prompt for this round of Ship Wars! at LiveJournal St_Respect was NCC17 and the word limit was 1000 words.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Fire and Light
She is surrounded by flame. Desire burns in her soul, an ardor not her own creation. A fervor radiated by the men that surround her in a cocoon of heat. This is the reprieve. The space that separates their fevered couplings. The space where her weary flesh recovers until one of them stirs, their flesh hot hard and insistent against her thighs.
Her mind is not given such consideration. Even as they slumber, their thoughts penetrate her dreams. They take her there, pull her roughly towards their straining need. Nimble fingers flutter against her sex as his lok presses demandingly against her hul’a. She sighs and permits him entrance, accustomed to the taboo invasion. An experienced tongue swirls around one pert nipple, the slightly abrasive flesh teasing it to attention before pulling it into a hot eager mouth. She moans, her head falling back to rest on his shoulder. Wizened fingers grasp her thighs, lifting one leg high as he fits himself in the created space, hips thrusting, lok parting drenched flesh, nestling in the cool confines of her sex. He growls, his breath heating her fevered flesh.
They consume her. Their movements are frenzied, precise. Teeth mark dark skin, tongues lick salty tears and sweat, hands grasp hips and breasts, fingers digging deep. She is worked like dough, kneaded and wrenched, tossed between strong hands. They pour themselves into her, drowning her as they seep into her pores, her nostrils, and flow over her lips. She breathes in their sorrow, exhales joy. Their blood absorbs her breath and light, converts her to sweetness and oxygen.
She consumes them. Drinks their tears, breathes their sighs and groaning, swallows their ardor and want. She strains, stretches lean between them, reaches back till fingers thread into the short black hairs at the nape of his neck. Dark fingers slide through silken silver shot with white, urgings lips to release her breast and travel the long distance to swollen lips. She plunders his mouth with her tongue, sucks off the tangy saltiness of her past pleasure. She matches the surging between her thighs and buttocks, her tongue invading and retreating, taking and giving.
They set a rhythm, ancient as the cosmos, new as the coming moment. Pushing, pulling, biting, licking, sucking, rubbing, growling, hissing as one unit, they stretch her like rubber, they fill her like new wine skins. She is and is not herself. She is and is not her lovers. She feels the turning of the universe. The universe shrinks to the sensation of their dual invasion, stroking against one another, separated by the thin membrane that is her body.
Joy flows through them, her lithe body their conduit and anchor. Their striving increases in speed and force. The air is filled with music; of flesh striking flesh, of pants and moans, of growls and roars, of shouts and curses. They are overcome by smell and sound, by pleasure and pain. She thinks she can feel every cell of her body. They are aware of each millimeter of skin that covers their muscle and bone, of each caress of sable silk against olive. She craves and despairs the climax.
She comes apart. Shuddering, keening, crying out their name as she spasms around them. Teeth sink into the flesh of her shoulder and neck, bruising and marking her. They spill themselves into her, their bodies falling out of rhythm as they roar their release. She weeps from the bliss of their climax, thrashing between them, their combined pleasure echoing through their union.
Nyota opens her eyes with a gasp, her gaze falling on the dark eyes of her husband. They bore into hers with a familiar hunger of the man she has long loved and cherished. She can see the madness retreating, her ashayam returning to her after many days.
“Spock,” she breathes as his hard length presses against her.
“K’hat’n’dlawa,” he groans. “I have need of you yet again. The fire still burns through our veins.”
Nyota turns her head towards the Ambassador. He lays naked by her side, his face relaxed in sleep even as his lok lies erect against his belly, the head bright green and glistening in the low light of their quarters. His chest and upper arms are littered with angry green bruises, bites she vaguely remembers delivering at their insistence.
She turns back to Spock, her mouth curving slightly as she opens her thighs. He growls, before covering her body with his own. He claims her lips, kissing her slowly until her hips roll beneath him. Spock smirks against her mouth before licking and biting his way down her long neck, across her sensitive breasts and down her taught stomach until his face is level with her sex. He presses his nose against her flesh, breathing in her scent before turning his head to bite her gently on the thigh. Her answering cry is met with a groan from beside her. The Ambassador is awake, the dark slits of his eyes fixed on the sight of his t’dashu feverishly lapping their wife’s kotik. She reaches towards the Ambassador, bringing his face to hers and giving him a lingering kiss. Spock thrusts into her, riding her hard. Nyota gasps enabling the Ambassador to slip two fingers into her wet mouth as he wraps his free hand around his engorged lok. Their bodies fall into a familiar cadence, his hips plunging, her mouth sucking, his fist pumping until they climax and begin again.
In the morning when they have worked off the remnants of the fever, they will decide where to go from here. As she lies underneath both Spocks, her body singing with contentment, she will wonder if it would be selfish of her to keep both of her mates. The Ambassador’s urgent need brought him to their quarters. Nyota’s urge to save her adun in any of his permutations brought him into their bed. Her love for both her adun would keep him in their bond.
Chapter End Notes:
Glossary:
hul'a = anus
adun = husband
lok = penis
kotik= vulva
t'dashu = twin
k'hat'n'dlawa = one who is half of my heart and soul