JL | Com Ivanova, Capt Neyes - "The Kind of Snow That Kindles Fire" pt II/III

Posted on Fri Apr 24th, 2015 @ 2:41am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Captain Landon Neyes

2,398 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Agua Mala

WARNING: The following text is rated Strong R for adult content. If you find yourself offended by such material, please skip this log and move forward to "The Kind of Snow That Kindles Fire" Pt III.







Once he was upon her, only a moment passed before the brush of his hand was replaced with a swift upwards scooping motion of the other and he lifted her up against him. Intensity began to rise with his motions, and he brought her to his height as he kept walking toward the edge of the corridor with one hand free and outstretched, while the other held her tightly to him. His mouth brushed against hers as he refused to let anything between them keep him from feeling her. She was real, she was there, and she was alive.

She was with him.

Telepathy had nothing on the silent communication shared between the pair as they stood and acknowledged one another in the half-lights. 'I've missed you.' traded for 'I need you.' and boiled straight down to a raw, husky, wordless 'I'm here. I’m yours.' in nothing more than the flicker of light and shadow in their turbulent eyes. His touch was fire, burning and singing every nerve ending beneath her skin. At first it was gentle and pure, downright serene and tender for the first few ticks of time – but then Rochelle tilted her head, averting her eyes to the full swell of his lips for a fraction of a second. That was all it took to break the spell that had been cast over them and she gasped at the suddenness of his motion and the way lifted her against him. Her coltish legs wrapped instinctively around his hips and the sound of her breath of surprise was quickly extinguished by the searing heat of his mouth on hers. It didn't matter any longer that they were still in a public venue – however tucked away into some secluded corner as they were – or that someone could see them, easily recognizing her uniform and rank. It didn't matter that he was supposed to be light years away and running for his life, holed up in some remote corner of the galaxy and far from reach. She encouraged him, loved him, and relished in the strength of him as he engulfed her in his brand of worship.


A few steps more and his hand pressed harshly against a wall console just before they would have ventured back out into the light of the main commons. A door immediately slid shut just behind Rochelle, sealing them away from the public on the station. With a subtle click the door latched and Landon continued to move, shuffling, and let Rochelle press against it while his free hand felt the strength and curve of her back, slowly trailing up to her neck.

At the edge of her consciousness she could hear the sound of his palm slapping urgently against a wall, the beep of a computer accepting an access code, the hiss of a door sliding open and shut, and then the sound of her own whimper as her back met that very same door. The impact bucked the simple, feeble black pin that held her hair back in its tight twist, loose, freeing her fiery copper locks in a cascade of waves that ran discourse over her shoulders and shrouded their faces and she found herself beneath and against him. The weight of his muscular body against her pinned her in place in the most delicious of ways imaginable. In that position, Landon’s chest pressed the ring she wore on a chain deftly against the skin over her heart, allowing it to bite and temporarily brand her with its impression. All Rochelle could muster was a feeble hum as her hands thread across the short velvet whisper of his once beautiful deep chocolate hair and softly brushed the skin where she knew their shared mark of bonding existed. Her lips, already swollen from the insistence of his, sought him once again and parted just enough to allow her to savor the taste of him.

If this was a dream, she didn't want to wake. She wanted to be left to drown in the paradise that was Captain Landon Neyes, her Landon Neyes, she reminded herself while his fingers touched and ran along the delicate nape of her neck, sending delectable shivers racing down the length of her spine. Beneath him, her pulse ran wild, fluttering like the rapidly beating wings of a hummingbird as a single hand dropped and its fingers fumbled, searching for the hidden tab of his zipper. Too much, she thought, there was too much keeping her from feeling him fully against her, skin on skin, soul on soul. They’d been separated by space, time, and circumstance – allowing something as trivial as uniforms and clothing to keep them apart any longer failed to find logic and reason within her incinerated mind.

Never would there be a time when she was close enough. Rochelle was always enough for him, but his need to be a part of her was never sated as well. Control and inhibition collapsed beneath the weight of his burning desire to share her space, and bask in the shared love they couldn't deny. Being away from her had left a mark on him, and the images of her broken body, their impossibly perfect daughter, had seared it somewhere inside him beyond recovery. There had been many lovers and partners in Neyes' lifetimes, yet nothing quite touched on the part of him she had.

The leather of his coat tugged on him as she pulled it open. With the cloth lining there hadn't been a reason to wear anything else, and his bare skin felt the touch of her uniform.

"Commodore." He said in teasing acknowledgment, smiling at her.

Tipping her head forward, her cheek grazed the stinging stubble of his and brought her lips to the lobe of one of his ears to breathe; "Don't you forget it." in return. Her voice was low and soft, like the rustle of autumn leaves; thick, husky, and breathless with the blistering desire and excitement that had flooded in and filled every centimeter of her being. Even her eyes had darkened as they reopened, heavily hooded by her lashes as she met the sharp, shining glitter of his when she allowed her head to fall back and rest against the door once more. She knew that the blush that she felt heat her cheeks and ears was well concealed by the frost burn, but her coy smile would ultimately give away the fact he'd caught her, teased her, and left her wanting more. Her palm ran up one side of his chest and breached over his dappled shoulder, holding him and savoring the feel of him beneath its tiny expanse. She could never have known what he'd encountered, the horrors and the pains that would plague his dreams for the rest of his existence – but she could impart a new set of memories, of smiles, of the sound of his name on her lips, of soft touches that turned urgent and demanding with need as her fingers rolled against his shoulder blade, kneading and imploring him onward.

Landon chuckled and grunted contentedly, spinning them back toward one of the waist-height consoles lining the corridor. Burying himself into the nape of her neck, her scent drove him past the point of no-return. All in a quick motion one of his hands dropped out of sight and her belt immediately dropped to the floor right after. His midsection pressed against her in urgent desire, while he set her up on one of the glass-shelved consoles. Her breath warmed his skin, and her fingernails dug into the firmness of his back. Every hair on his neck was stilted upright at attention, and he could feel her beginning to replace his awareness. Rochelle was rapidly becoming and endless maze of body and need of which he was unable to stop from exploring. Their forms undulated like waves as they traded effort in getting closer.

The sound of another zipper preceded her tunic being cast aside, strewn over the edge onto the floor. They had to go. Clearing everything between them was all he could think about, and his hands grabbed and felt desperately as he worked to achieve that goal.

Her shoulders rolled, helping to free her from the constriction of her tunic even if it meant momentarily mourning the loss of contact between them. The reward, however, was exquisite. His lips against her neck, rising to meet and cover the pulse of her throat only served to drive her further away from redemption, forcing her to tip her chin back and give him complete access to that hypersensitive region of her body. She shivered as the unfettered ends of her hair brushed against the bare small of her back, driving her back to arch and bring the satin softness of her taught belly against his. Her hands found purchase against him once again. They trailed over the profound sculpted beauty of his chest before her palms lifted and gave way to only the pads of her fingers as they disappeared between their heated flesh and slid over the washboard of his abdomen.

The feel of his pants seemed cruel and foreign, unnatural and in that instant she hated the sterile feel of the fabric. A tug on his belt’s tongue freed the buckle, leaving it to hang loose and despondent against his hips, not even worth spending the time or distance necessary to pull it through the loops that bound it to him. Instead her fingers hooked beneath the hem of his waist band and the tug on the top button drew his hips to hers in what was nothing more than a blissful mistake that left her breath caught in her throat and legs tightening their grip around him. Her hands shook as they tried to complete their mission of freeing him. “God… Landon…” Rochelle breathed, squeezing her eyes shut tight and finding satisfaction in the sound of his zipper yielding to her touch. The more ground he covered, the more she came undone beneath his massive hands. It didn't make sense, the way that his love could do things to her no one and nothing else could.

If what they were doing was wrong, she never wanted to be right.

The cold rush of air. She would feel it a moment later after he worked feverishly to bring them together. He couldn't describe the urgency that rushed through his veins, and wasn't sure he wanted to. Like there would never again be another time for something this sudden and energized. Maybe the fear was right, maybe this would somehow be the last time, but the threat of it seemed impossible at the same time. The same love that constantly brought them together was the reason he stood crushed before her broken form in the dream... or whatever it was.

His breath caught in his throat as the cold changed to warm. Their noses touched softly as he kissed her with renewed passion, barely able to breathe against her beauty. It was one of those moments Landon wished would never end. Nothing in the entirety felt real except the moments between them. The worries of the ship and their families fell away, leaving only the raw and undeniable connection he shared with Rochelle. Something about the way she moved, spoke, drew breath, it all said something deep in the loftiest parts of his soul. When she put her hair up, he couldn't help but smile. When she was mad at him, he wanted to laugh about how she cared so much about everything.

Their bodies touched in ways he would never understand, and for a moment he simply held her.

Boots, slacks, slips of black lace… They all hit the flooring grates with sighs varying in volume that was heavily dependent on the thickness of their fabric base. Rochelle was blissfully ignorant of the cacophony they created. The only thing she could hear was the sound of her own pulse. The cold of the glass beneath her, and the air all around her, was easily and quickly replaced by the very essence of him. His lips. His hands. His heat. His hunger. She didn't have time to think about the heavy urgency that seemed to surround him, or the way he handled her as if she were more precious than any other element in the known universe – nor did she want to. She wanted only to feel him. Know him. Love him. Beyond that scope, she was only vaguely aware of their surroundings and the ramifications of him showing his face in what she considered to be space hostile to his well-being… Their well-being. The feel and taste of his mouth on hers beckoned her away from the encroaching darkness and back into the nearly blinding light of their resilience and the undeniable beauty of what it was that defined them in that pivotal moment.

The shimmy of his ring against her bare, steaming skin made her smile against his lips. It was as if that glittering piece of jewelry had a mind only to serve as a constant reminder of what it was that spurred them ever forward and drove them to live beyond simple survival. The feel of it, in addition to the power of Landon’s body molding to her curves, sent a volley of new shivers rolling along her arcing spine in the most delectable of ways. Her fingers had long ago made their way back to Landon’s perfectly sculpted shoulders and now drifted to follow the lines of muscle on either side of his spine, stopping only to caress the dimples just south of the small of his back. They became her perfect mooring spot – an easy target filled with promise as she kneaded and pressed at the barely malleable flesh, wordlessly begging him to complete her.

--- to be continued in part III ---

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

&

Captain Landon Neyes
Command Liaison
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

 

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