Kryptonite

Kryptonite

By vandiver49

Summary: What Trip is to T'Pol

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.

This story takes place after "Harbinger"

My hands meticulously work their way across his back. He is beneath me, strewn out across the deck of my cabin in a prone position. I am straddling his legs, affording me the luxury of not having to peer into his eyes. This is our first neuro-pressure session since…the last one.

It is nearly complete, and I shall be relieved to be once again left to the quiet solitude of my quarters. One of the reasons I agreed to continue our sessions is to reaffirm that _I_ am still in control. That, coupled with the fact that regardless of what transpired during our last session, he still requires my help. Without it, the success of…

Something is amiss…there is a change in his scent. It is one which I am familiar with, intimately so.The answer to what caused this change lies no further than the ministrations of my own hands, which are no longer strategically searching for neural nodes. Instead they are gently massaging the sculpted plains of his trapezius.

"This isn't working is it?" he questions innocently. I am easily able to determine the meaning of his query as I can feel my body slowly begin to respond in kind to his. His legs brush gently against my thighs. I accede to his silent request, rising off him slightly so he can roll over on his back.

"So what do you suggest we do?" he asks, placing one of my meditation pillows under his head. I force my eyes to focus on a spot just beyond his left shoulder in the dim candlelight, and not on how chiseled his pectoralis major are, or the definition of his deltoids and how they connect just so with his neck and how much…

"Hello…Earth to T'Pol."

I chide myself for being so easily distracted. There was a time when I was impervious to such things; when I only acknowledged him as Commander or Chief Engineer. An arched eyebrow is the only response I feel safe giving him.

"Look T'Pol, just tell me what you want," He starts, "I'll be a perfect gentleman whatever you decide."

My eyes openly challenge his assertion as they travel down his body to the physical manifestation of the contrary.

"Well, almost a perfect gentleman," He chuckles before continuing. "But you gotta admit T'Pol what happened between us was… inevitable. It's kinda like the strong nuclear force or strange attractors. And though I've tried to put it behind me, I'm starting to realize that I can't."

I finally decide to meet his eyes, desperately hoping that he did not notice how my gaze lingered on his erection. My mind cannot help but leap to another phenomenon that is also an apropos description of him and me: fusion.

"And I don't think you can either." he adds, as a radiant smile graces his face.

"What transpired between us was in hindsight a… mistake." I respond, attempting to maintain some semblance of decorum.

"You know T'Pol, why don't we try being honest with each other for a change?" He says without any hint of malice.

"What would lead you to believe otherwise?" I question.

"Because, I can read you." He replies melodiously, the index finger of his right hand tapping it gently against his temple. "Its obvious that wasn't what you were about to say." He continues. "Since if this were truly an 'experiment' or a 'mistake' as you claim, you'd have the emotional detachment necessary to get up off my lap and tell me to leave."

My head hangs slowly as he speaks an unbidden truth; his uncanny insights are in a word, logical. The mind must indeed first be willing before the body can ever be able. I am forced to concede that the time where I could shroud myself in equivocations with this man has long since passed. He has earned more from me, is deserved of nothing less than the truth as the matter between us begs for resolution. "Extraordinary."

"Huh?"

"The word I intended to use was extraordinary." I whisper.

As he silently ponders my response, I avert my gaze, steeling myself for his reply. It is a familiar one. "So, what do you want to do?"

Logically, we should desist. I have struggled mightily to piece together the rational that led to our earlier union. Unfortunately, logic has always taken on an elusive quality when in his presence.

"I would like to continue my 'exploration.'" I can feel my body blush as soon as the words leave my lips.

"So you're sure that you aren't simply satisfying your curiosity?" he replies teasingly.

My left hand reaches forward, my fingers caressing his stirring erection. "My curiosity is satisfied, but hardly satiated."

A sigh escapes his from lips before he continues. "I had a feeling you were going to say that."

I watch as he revels in his knowledge of me, as if the converse does not hold true. My other hand drifts behind me, allowing my fingers to dance across the sole of his foot.

The look of shock on his face is etched in my memory. It is akin to the one he wore during our previous coupling. "T'Pol, what are you doing?" he questions between stifled giggles.

I can feel his legs riling underneath, attempting to dislodge me. His efforts are in vain as my strength keeps me firmly planted.

"Come on T'Pol, stop," he pleads. It is the first time such a statement has ever graced my ears. For a moment I consider yielding to his wish. But it is fleeting, as some sinister portion of me has longed to exert such control over him. Plus, I owe this human much retribution. I redouble my efforts, assailing the bottom of his feet with both hands. I close my eyes and wait patiently for my reward.

It starts with a chuckle, followed by another and suddenly he bursts into a full guffaw. It is such a melodious sound, one that I have not been privy to since our journey into the Expanse. But my indulgence in the way his laughter caresses my ears and resonates in my mind proves to be my undoing.

My head involuntarily tips to the left as I feel something else caress my ears, his fingers. I open my eyes to discover we are face to face. My hands, unbeknownst to me, have stopped their assault.

An arm wraps around me, coaxing me into his body. A set of lips begins a succulent trail of kisses. They start at my shoulder, working their way across my clavicle to the base of my neck. From there the lips begin an accent up towards my ears. An illicit moan escapes my lips.

"That's better," he whispers. I can feel his arousal between my legs, taunting me. Slowly, I wind my fingers through his golden locks, attempting to regain the upper hand. It is for naught as I am rewarded with a fiery kiss upon my lips, his fingers still stroking the tips of my ears; stoking the fire between my thighs. I am sure he is deriving undue pleasure from this…this torture.

I purposely fall into his chest, our momentum carrying us back onto the pillows. I refused to be denied. But as I pull at that infernal piece of fabric that separates us he rolls me over. I find myself meeting his gaze as he stares at me from the superior position. I notice an uncharacteristic glean in his eyes that can only mean one thing; he means to break me. And I welcome it.

He leans forward and greets me with a passionate kiss, as he furiously works at the knot that binds my diaphanous robe. He forces his way past my lips, our tongues engaging in a slippery dance.

His hands, having successfully laid me bare, work their way up the contours of my frame. They come to rest on my breasts, affording him the opportunity to fondle my turgid nipples.

My hips thrust upward involuntarily, coaxing him to partake of my feminine wares. But instead he breaks our delicious lip lock and begins to leave a trail of kisses down my body.

I feel the one he places on my shoulder, and there on my sternum. He peppers my breasts with tender pecks before devouring my nipples with his mouth. I briefly imagine the sensation is akin to the suckle of an infant. The thought is fleeting as he then pulls on it with his teeth, my breath catching in response.

He renews his decent in earnest, kissing my abdomen in so many different places. If allowed, I'm sure he would lavish my entire body with similar attention. His fevered pace diminishes as he languishes at my navel, his tongue probing the scar with interest. He mumbles something about me having an 'outey'. I'm sure if I cared I could infer his meaning but right now as the only thing my mind can acknowledge is the aching need of my body. I desperately wish I could grab him, force him to fill the void he created within me, but he is beyond my reach. As such, I am left with no other choice.

"Charles, please…come to me." I plead haggardly. He mentions something about him showing me the full extent of human sexuality, but his words fall upon deaf ears. The extent of human sexuality I crave is 20.32 centimeters in length and confined behind a pair of blue boxers. But my lament is brief as I am unprepared for what he does next.

There is a wetness that eagerly begins to probe my sex. I quickly realize it is his tongue as my hips buck to hasten his search. He finds his treasure in the swollen bud, his caresses causing me to writhe in ecstasy. He is merciless in his assault as his lashes drive me closer to the edge. My mind is doggedly is trying to halt my descent over the precipice, but how can I when I have absolutely no control over my body? If this is not the full extent of human sexuality I shudder to think what lay beyond. I can feel my climax building, like a damn about to breach…

"That's right darlin'," he whispers against me softly, "come for me." I cannot help but answer his request with a soundless cry. 

A decidedly feminine moan escapes my lips as I attempt to recover from my flight of passion. I open my eyes to find him peering at me from between my legs, relishing delightfully as he appreciates his work. A curl of his lips produces a sinister smile as he apparently finds my wanton appearance, pleasing. Though my view is obscured, I can only imagine that he is more than willing to continue. I open my legs, allowing him purchase of me. I gasp as he enters me slowly with a thrust of his hips.

I awake several hours later, alone in my quarters. And though I long for the peace and tranquility solitude provides, a small part of me wishes that he was still here. But the scent of our union that permeates my room is a vivid reminder. I rise and make my way to the lavatory, intent on removing all vestiges of our tryst from my person. But before I can reach the shower, my attention is directed towards the mirror.

The reflection that I encounter is quite foreign, almost alien to me. For my entire life I have been defined exclusively as a female Vulcan. But the woman staring back is…and I realize _that_ is the difference. She is a woman who is loved and cherished, a woman whom in the presence of her chosen companion is…complete. It is an unsettling proposition; one I desperately wished I did not covet, for it is starting to make me needy, dependant and weak.

Moving beyond the mirror I realize that being in Trip's presence is worse that any mental ailment or lethal substance I have ever encountered; for he has done something that is completely illogical and for all intents and purposes should be impossible…

He has made me love him.


End file.
