Fan Fiction
TITLE: Coda: Persistence of Vision
AUTHOR: Trillseeker
RATING: NC-17
CODES: C/T
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's a 'Plot What Plot?'! What more do you want to know? Copyright [email protected], 1997.
SUMMARY: Here's the scene in Persistence of Vision we never got to see.
"I want you with me," he said, his voice growing intense and husky, the look in his eyes darkening to match.
"You're not Chakotay," she realized, which didn't stop several personal parts of her body from responding to his tone.
"I'm the Chakotay you want me to be, the one who loves you. Isn't that true, the secret you've been keeping? You want us to be together," he persisted, moving closer, taking her face in his hands and gently kissing her, "and we can be."
Her suddenly flowering need made it impossible to refuse. Not another word was spoken until they were in her quarters, and he was carrying her to the bedroom. Feeling his heartbeat pounding against hers made her slightly dizzy. As he lowered her to the blankets, he asked her softly, "You do want me, don't you?"
There was only one answer, with the maddening feel of his body fitting itself intimately to hers.
"Yes!" she cried, gripping his head and raining kisses across his face and mouth.
She turned them over with one push of her legs so that she lay on top. Her passion was spilling over, obvious in her wild ravishing of his lips and tongue, the rocking and rubbing of her body against his. Every part of his body was unbearably stimulating to her. The hard, muscular shape of his chest, belly and hips was setting her on fire, and she could not get close enough to relieve the aching he caused. Her moans turned into cries of need, demanding that he do something before she exploded.
His own arousal was full, and urgent, but not yet out of control. He took over, sitting up and putting a little distance between them so he could remove her uniform. She helped to push the cloth off her arms, over her hips, and down her legs, her shoes easily sliding off with it. She felt somewhat self-conscious as he stood up to undress himself, but the sight of him provided ample distraction.
Her breath was coming faster before he'd even finished. And when he was finished, she couldn't remember how to breathe. It hurt to look at him, he was so beautiful. He held quite still and let her examine him. As she visually caressed his shoulders and chest, her hands curled with the urge to do the same. When she made herself look lower, at the engorged, perfectly sculpted sign of his need, her inner flesh contracted painfully, pulsing where she craved him the most. She reached for him without hesitation now, and he came to her. He was all around her, embracing her and lifting her against him with strong arms, and it seemed he was the only world there was, at least the only one she cared about. His mouth was there for her to taste, his air for her to breathe, his body to cover her, and she needed nothing else. He was arousing her further, which she hadn't thought was possible, but it was his turn to explore her. He tormented her with soft kisses all over her face, throat, and breasts, loving her responsive shudders.
He lightly stroked those same places, drawing sighs and hums of pleasure. He slid down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her shallow navel, and she tangled her fingers reflexively in his dark hair as tingles of erotic response scalded her. She tensed with frustration; she couldn't pull him close enough. She wanted him to be inside her, a part of her. He gently removed her hands and rose to kneel between her legs, his eyes dark and glowing with sensual intent.
He parted and held her open, and the mere touch of air against her sensitized flesh was arousing. He smiled when he blew on her and she jumped in reaction. He then brought his thumbs together and began a detailed, mind bending exploration of each silky fold. He stopped just short of her center and began again with his fingers. A heavy ache was spreading upward from her trembling belly to her breasts, throbbing all through her. Her eyes wouldn't focus any more; she let them close. So she wasn't aware of precisely when he lowered his mouth to her, and any remaining inhibitions were burned away in a lightning strike of sensation. She rose effortlessly against him and stayed there, paralyzed by the motion of his tongue.
Slowly, he traced her up and down as he had with his fingers, but this time there was fiery heat, velvety friction, and a wetness that drew out her own and tore at what remained of her mind. His kiss moved lower, to encompass the entrance of her body. She felt a deep, sudden melting, and released a broken cry of surrender as orgasm caught her in its unrelenting grip. Her legs came around his shoulders and her love juices flowed freely into his mouth. Just as the tension in her body began to ebb, he moved above her and positioned himself, barely able to stop himself from surging forward.
She realized in amazement that she did want more of the pleasure he offered, that one, ten times might not be enough. She wound her arms around his neck, pulled him close, and there was no way he could stop then. He penetrated her in one swift, smooth movement and waited for the rush of passion to subside so he could concentrate, but it didn't.
Mindlessly, his body decided to proceed with or without him. He was losing control of himself, thrusting hard and deeply into her, dying of pleasure with every stroke. She was more exciting than he could take, hot, soft, and tight. He tried to slow down, but couldn't. His need had waited too long. He realized it was all right, though. She was with him completely, meeting and matching his feverish rhythm with equal impatience. It all crashed in on him at once. He was dimly aware that her sob of release preceded his by an instant, then he was overcome by his own.
