[fic] Human Skin
Title: Human Skin
Characters/Pairings: Spock/Uhura
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: explicit sex
Summary: A tender and intimate moment. PWP smut.
A/N: Thank you to slwmtiondaylite for being an awesome beta! This story was written as a secret santa present to turtle_goose during the st_santa exchange. Enjoy!
The room was wonderfully cool. Pleasing to a Vulcan, and a relief to his burning blood, but still swelteringly hot to Nyota. He had offered to cool it further, but she shook her head. “I want the heat,” she whispered.
He looked upon her with dark Vulcan eyes that smoldered in desert warmth. From her place seated upon the bed, Nyota reached up to his side, laying a dark hand on his covered shoulder, running the pads of her fingers down to his elbow, then his wrist, but stopping on the back of his hand, not touching his knuckles. He shivered at the tease, his fingers twitching from the desire to be touched.
Again, she ran her hand from his deltoid, her long thin fingers descending, down his brachialis, over the carpi radialis, but stopping before his fingers. He felt both impatience and urgency build behind his control. Purposefully he acted on neither. For a third and fourth time Nyota teased, stopping just above where he earnestly wanted to be touched.
Smilingly, Nyota’s eyes met his with that strange intimacy that human eyes could hold, and she finally grasped his hand, her cool thin fingers wrapping around his, sending shivers down his spine. She brought his digits to her lips, where she kissed his index finger, pressing it against her lips. A shiver ran down his spine.
His eyes locked on hers, gaze jumping from his fingers upon her red mouth to her heated chocolate eyes. "May I?" He asked.
Yes. She answered silently, her lips moving under his fingers but no sound coming out. The shiver in his back was higher this time, between his shoulders, where tension was gathering.
He knelt down on one knee before her, between her legs, never losing contact with her lips. The pads of his fingers traced over her top lip, then over the bottom lip, feeling moisture gather. Her tongue darted out, shockingly quick, the softness of the tongue tip against his fingers bringing him to the edge of his composure and calm. "Nyota," he whispered hoarsely, leaning down and pressing his forehead to hers. Perspiration was gathering upon her temples and around her neck; he could smell the salt. She gently dragged his fingers from her mouth to her cheek, and she pressed their lips together.
It was incredible, the amount of control humans had over their mouth. The way she brushed hers over his so slowly like she was aware of her own lips from outside curve to inside fold. Her mouth was so plump, and with gentle suction she pulled at his bottom lip. Half human himself, he understood the human mouth's ability to suck and its purpose in human infants, but Nyota had shown him the unexpected esoteric uses and shocked him with the precision and control that humans had over this unusual ability. She gently suckled on his lower lip, but he knew that her mouth could pull harder to the point of tender pain.
He worked his lips over hers, trying to emulate her abilities, and she sighed into him, hopefully a sign that he was satisfactory.
He leaned his full body into her, pressing her back until she lay against the sheets, her sighs soft and cool against his face. His travelling fingers felt “goose bumps” on her arms, the texture wonderfully stimulating to his sensitive fingers. She wrapped her legs around him and moaned into his kisses. Her hands tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp, then traveled down to his back, kneading his latissimus dorsi. She gently dug her nails through the fabric, and he gasped into her cheek and heard her laugh in delight as he writhed. He held her face in one hand and kissed her passionately, the other arm carefully holding his torso above her. Her hands pulled at his shirt, and in a rush of urgency he stood, pulling his shirt off, undoing his belt, and tearing his boots off. He was ready. “Please, Nyota, tell me, what would you like?” He pleaded.
She didn’t answer at first, wanting to tease him more. Lying upon the bed, she slowly pulled off her own shirt, twisting her shoulders and torso to get it over her head. She loosened the black bra, revealing her dark skin, pert breasts, and hard nipples. Playfully she tilted her head and posed. She was an absolute darling. Then she reached for her skirt but did not unzip it. Instead, she pulled it up until it gathered around her hips and only the thin patch of cotton covered her core. She spread her legs wide, a long boot on each foot and invited him. “Come take my panties off. The fun way.”
Fully naked himself, he reached for her and held a breast in each hand, kissing them both, then he kissed up to her clavicle, her neck, then down again to the ribs under her breasts, to her soft stomach and belly button and down passed the red skirt to the inside of her thigh. Her breath hitched, and he kissed the dip where thigh met hip, down between, to where cotton covered her inner garden. He pressed his mouth against her covered folds, and felt her thighs twitch, her torso writhe, and her voice moan.
He kissed her mound from top to bottom, feeling her open up, but she remained hidden from his view. He licked her clitoris through the material, sucking as gently as he could, and she gasped, moaned, pressing herself against his mouth, and he licked, running his tongue from top to bottom, the panties quickly soaking and bunching between her lower lips.
He grabbed the thin cotton straps and pulled down. Dazed and aroused though she was, Nyota was still aware enough to lift one boot, enough for him to unhook the panties from one foot, then left them laying around the other thigh. Now unhindered, he suckled again at her core, running his tongue up and down, teasing her hole, reaching inside, indulgent as always at the fluid that came from her. Her species was wonderfully wet in all the most surprising yet logical ways.
He slipped two fingers inside her, and she squeezed them. He groaned as she again pushed him to the edge of his level mind. But he did not lose himself in the experience. He would not until he knew she had been satisfied, and pleased. He fingered her and kissed her there, throwing himself into the task with relish, taking pleasure as she moaned and sighed and cried out, her back arching like a primal Vulcan, voice calling out like a Terran wolf.
Her body seized and her insides spasmed. He quickly withdrew his fingers completely, lest he be overcome in the sensation. As her body eased from tension to relaxation, he kissed her down from that high, listening to her pants, watching her eyelashes flutter. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tenderly.
“Spock,” she finally sighed, reaching up to stroke his cheek. She smiled and kissed him, just a peck, then again deeper, lips mingling, tongues meeting. He wondered if all humans had this stamina, or if it was only her who was always ready for more. No Vulcan would have sex twice so quickly, would feel the need or the desire to. No Vulcan would still burn for more, right after ravaging hormones were sated. It had shocked and intrigued him when he first discovered how deeply human desire ran, that it interacted with their daily life, and he now worked hard to please her deep need before reaching his own finish.
She pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs around him again, and rocked her moist core against his erection. They kissed passionately, and he braced himself on one forearm, while she dragged her nails over his naked back with urgency.
“Please,” he pleaded.
“Yes,” she gasped.
He let himself sink into her, feeling her squeeze around him, as he rocked into her, letting her wrap around him, let her catch him, heard her gasp and whine while digging her fingers into his shoulder.
She tilted her hips to meet him every time, pressing against him and crying out as he filled her so wonderfully, stroking her insides. Her sweating thighs slipped over his hips but never lost their grip.
He panted into her cheek, eyes closed, and listened to her breaths and cries. He kissed her and stroked her. He finally felt her tighten up, just as he felt himself losing his awareness, losing control, and with a desperate yell he came.
His mind was in disarray, but pacified. Sighing, he sagged against her. He was emotionally open in a way that he only was in this moment, sore and vulnerable, and her arms eased their grip around him, her embrace going from desperate and passionate to gentle and loving. They sighed into each other.
In this moment, he yearned to touch his mind to hers, to see if hers would cradle him, to see what it would feel like to meld during this open, vulnerable moment. But he would not, an unvoiced fear that was purely illogical.
Yet she seemed to know, and she cradled him in her arms instead, stroking his hair until he fell asleep.
End.
Characters/Pairings: Spock/Uhura
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: explicit sex
Summary: A tender and intimate moment. PWP smut.
A/N: Thank you to slwmtiondaylite for being an awesome beta! This story was written as a secret santa present to turtle_goose during the st_santa exchange. Enjoy!
The room was wonderfully cool. Pleasing to a Vulcan, and a relief to his burning blood, but still swelteringly hot to Nyota. He had offered to cool it further, but she shook her head. “I want the heat,” she whispered.
He looked upon her with dark Vulcan eyes that smoldered in desert warmth. From her place seated upon the bed, Nyota reached up to his side, laying a dark hand on his covered shoulder, running the pads of her fingers down to his elbow, then his wrist, but stopping on the back of his hand, not touching his knuckles. He shivered at the tease, his fingers twitching from the desire to be touched.
Again, she ran her hand from his deltoid, her long thin fingers descending, down his brachialis, over the carpi radialis, but stopping before his fingers. He felt both impatience and urgency build behind his control. Purposefully he acted on neither. For a third and fourth time Nyota teased, stopping just above where he earnestly wanted to be touched.
Smilingly, Nyota’s eyes met his with that strange intimacy that human eyes could hold, and she finally grasped his hand, her cool thin fingers wrapping around his, sending shivers down his spine. She brought his digits to her lips, where she kissed his index finger, pressing it against her lips. A shiver ran down his spine.
His eyes locked on hers, gaze jumping from his fingers upon her red mouth to her heated chocolate eyes. "May I?" He asked.
Yes. She answered silently, her lips moving under his fingers but no sound coming out. The shiver in his back was higher this time, between his shoulders, where tension was gathering.
He knelt down on one knee before her, between her legs, never losing contact with her lips. The pads of his fingers traced over her top lip, then over the bottom lip, feeling moisture gather. Her tongue darted out, shockingly quick, the softness of the tongue tip against his fingers bringing him to the edge of his composure and calm. "Nyota," he whispered hoarsely, leaning down and pressing his forehead to hers. Perspiration was gathering upon her temples and around her neck; he could smell the salt. She gently dragged his fingers from her mouth to her cheek, and she pressed their lips together.
It was incredible, the amount of control humans had over their mouth. The way she brushed hers over his so slowly like she was aware of her own lips from outside curve to inside fold. Her mouth was so plump, and with gentle suction she pulled at his bottom lip. Half human himself, he understood the human mouth's ability to suck and its purpose in human infants, but Nyota had shown him the unexpected esoteric uses and shocked him with the precision and control that humans had over this unusual ability. She gently suckled on his lower lip, but he knew that her mouth could pull harder to the point of tender pain.
He worked his lips over hers, trying to emulate her abilities, and she sighed into him, hopefully a sign that he was satisfactory.
He leaned his full body into her, pressing her back until she lay against the sheets, her sighs soft and cool against his face. His travelling fingers felt “goose bumps” on her arms, the texture wonderfully stimulating to his sensitive fingers. She wrapped her legs around him and moaned into his kisses. Her hands tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp, then traveled down to his back, kneading his latissimus dorsi. She gently dug her nails through the fabric, and he gasped into her cheek and heard her laugh in delight as he writhed. He held her face in one hand and kissed her passionately, the other arm carefully holding his torso above her. Her hands pulled at his shirt, and in a rush of urgency he stood, pulling his shirt off, undoing his belt, and tearing his boots off. He was ready. “Please, Nyota, tell me, what would you like?” He pleaded.
She didn’t answer at first, wanting to tease him more. Lying upon the bed, she slowly pulled off her own shirt, twisting her shoulders and torso to get it over her head. She loosened the black bra, revealing her dark skin, pert breasts, and hard nipples. Playfully she tilted her head and posed. She was an absolute darling. Then she reached for her skirt but did not unzip it. Instead, she pulled it up until it gathered around her hips and only the thin patch of cotton covered her core. She spread her legs wide, a long boot on each foot and invited him. “Come take my panties off. The fun way.”
Fully naked himself, he reached for her and held a breast in each hand, kissing them both, then he kissed up to her clavicle, her neck, then down again to the ribs under her breasts, to her soft stomach and belly button and down passed the red skirt to the inside of her thigh. Her breath hitched, and he kissed the dip where thigh met hip, down between, to where cotton covered her inner garden. He pressed his mouth against her covered folds, and felt her thighs twitch, her torso writhe, and her voice moan.
He kissed her mound from top to bottom, feeling her open up, but she remained hidden from his view. He licked her clitoris through the material, sucking as gently as he could, and she gasped, moaned, pressing herself against his mouth, and he licked, running his tongue from top to bottom, the panties quickly soaking and bunching between her lower lips.
He grabbed the thin cotton straps and pulled down. Dazed and aroused though she was, Nyota was still aware enough to lift one boot, enough for him to unhook the panties from one foot, then left them laying around the other thigh. Now unhindered, he suckled again at her core, running his tongue up and down, teasing her hole, reaching inside, indulgent as always at the fluid that came from her. Her species was wonderfully wet in all the most surprising yet logical ways.
He slipped two fingers inside her, and she squeezed them. He groaned as she again pushed him to the edge of his level mind. But he did not lose himself in the experience. He would not until he knew she had been satisfied, and pleased. He fingered her and kissed her there, throwing himself into the task with relish, taking pleasure as she moaned and sighed and cried out, her back arching like a primal Vulcan, voice calling out like a Terran wolf.
Her body seized and her insides spasmed. He quickly withdrew his fingers completely, lest he be overcome in the sensation. As her body eased from tension to relaxation, he kissed her down from that high, listening to her pants, watching her eyelashes flutter. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tenderly.
“Spock,” she finally sighed, reaching up to stroke his cheek. She smiled and kissed him, just a peck, then again deeper, lips mingling, tongues meeting. He wondered if all humans had this stamina, or if it was only her who was always ready for more. No Vulcan would have sex twice so quickly, would feel the need or the desire to. No Vulcan would still burn for more, right after ravaging hormones were sated. It had shocked and intrigued him when he first discovered how deeply human desire ran, that it interacted with their daily life, and he now worked hard to please her deep need before reaching his own finish.
She pulled him on top of her, wrapping her legs around him again, and rocked her moist core against his erection. They kissed passionately, and he braced himself on one forearm, while she dragged her nails over his naked back with urgency.
“Please,” he pleaded.
“Yes,” she gasped.
He let himself sink into her, feeling her squeeze around him, as he rocked into her, letting her wrap around him, let her catch him, heard her gasp and whine while digging her fingers into his shoulder.
She tilted her hips to meet him every time, pressing against him and crying out as he filled her so wonderfully, stroking her insides. Her sweating thighs slipped over his hips but never lost their grip.
He panted into her cheek, eyes closed, and listened to her breaths and cries. He kissed her and stroked her. He finally felt her tighten up, just as he felt himself losing his awareness, losing control, and with a desperate yell he came.
His mind was in disarray, but pacified. Sighing, he sagged against her. He was emotionally open in a way that he only was in this moment, sore and vulnerable, and her arms eased their grip around him, her embrace going from desperate and passionate to gentle and loving. They sighed into each other.
In this moment, he yearned to touch his mind to hers, to see if hers would cradle him, to see what it would feel like to meld during this open, vulnerable moment. But he would not, an unvoiced fear that was purely illogical.
Yet she seemed to know, and she cradled him in her arms instead, stroking his hair until he fell asleep.
End.