Never Enough
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Delenn of Mir and John Sheridan
Author's Note: I was on the Archive of Our Own fanfiction site and stumbled upon a story entitled "Emotion in Motion" by Cartography. His/her fic was in response to a 50 reasons to have sex challenge (any fandom) based on a How I Met Your Mother episode. Cartography took the challenge and has written 30 of the 50. If interested, please drop by the site. As a result, I thought it would be fun to engage in a similar personal challenge. However, instead of using the 50 from the show, I came up with 25 reasons of my own. What you'll read will be 25 fun, short stories. Hope you enjoy.
Reason 1: Wedding Night
Who knew humans perspired so much and so easily, Delenn thought with a vague grimace. She hated to sweat. Hated the way her robes stuck to her body when she did. Despised the way it rolled down her body and settled in indelicate places. Repulsed by the way the salty-tart smell it emitted seemed to linger in her clothing and hair.
Yes, Delenn of Mir hated to sweat. Or at least she hated to sweat alone or without a very good reason. And she'd discovered tonight that sweating with John while making passionate love was quite an acceptable reason indeed.
In fact, Delenn deliberated, pulling the sheet up to her pale, slim waist, having John's muscular body moving over top of her own was even more tantalizing when the moisture from his chest grazed her achingly erect nipples. The aroused buds simply sank into him, the sweat warm, slick, and surprisingly erotic.
"That was well worth the wait." John snuggled closer to her, his body now dry, the coolness of the room doing what a clean towel what've done if they'd had the energy or the inclination to move from their bed.
No, they were far too comfortable, far too satiated, far too exhausted to venture one inch from the bed or each other.
The White Star would not have been Delenn's first, second, or even third choice for their wedding or the consummation of their union. But it seemed strangely appropriate for them to wed on a vessel that was as much a force of might and will as it was a symbol of sacrifice and unity.
So, on a vessel that had the indomitable ability to take lives in order to save even more, John and Delenn committed themselves to each other, the universe, the future. In heart. In soul. And finally in body.
" 'Well worth the wait?'" Delenn repeated, her voice playful, eyes firmly on the smiling, handsome face of her new husband. "That wasn't what you said when we reached ritual twenty. Or thirty-five. Or even-"
John kissed her then, a wonderful silencing kiss she didn't mind at all.
After long moments of oral exploration, John released her mouth, his hands still pressed firmly to her hips, fingers kneading in the most distracting way.
"I didn't say I enjoyed the wait, honey. Only that being with you lived up to every one of my wet dreams." John gave her a wicked grin, the one she adored because it gave him a youthful, roguish look. And what woman, even one schooled in a temple, didn't find a bit of the rascal in a male appealing on some primal level?
To her surprise, perhaps even embarrassment, Delenn did, especially two hours ago when John proclaimed, "I'm going to lick and suck and bite and taste every inch of you. Then I'm going to take you from on top, the side, the back, with both mouth and penis. And when you scream my name, begging for more, I'll give it to you, as hard and deep as you like."
And he did.
And she screamed. And begged. And writhed. And sweated. Valen, how she sweated.
His hands dug in deeper, one going lower, circling her inner thigh before moving north and settling at the apex of her sex. Slowly, one then two fingers made their way inside, stroking with a determined gentleness.
Her response was immediate, hips rotated upward, meeting each pleasurable thrust.
John whispered against her bare breast, "It's still our wedding night, Delenn; we have hours yet before we have to even think about leaving this bed or"-deeper penetration-"these quarters."
Her husband rolled on top of her, settling comfortably between her parted thighs as if they'd done this a hundred times before.
Delenn reached for her husband, pulled his head closer to her own, lips nearly touching, and said in a sensual voice full of a woman's need, "Make me sweat, John."
TO BE CONTINUED