ufp13: ([mm] overload)
([personal profile] ufp13 Jan. 29th, 2010 07:15 am)
Title: Racktime
Author: Ria
Rating: NC-17 / MA
Pairing: Laura/Lee
Spoiler: none, I'd say, well 33, but...
Summary: A "33" add-on. PWP.
Disclaimer: Characters are property of RDM and Universal Pictures.
Author's Note: Written for [livejournal.com profile] missbevcrusher who kindly gave her permission for this to be shared.
For the record, I'd like to mention that I dislike the pairing, but do a lot for friends. ;)
Thanks for the beta, [livejournal.com profile] courylenwillows. *HUGS*


Racktime

In the strange state between waking and sleeping, tired yet still high on stims, Lee stumbled to his rack. He had just stripped off his flight suit and tanks without giving it a thought, without even being aware of it. Mechanical, well-practiced movements. In the trance, he didn’t register the other pilots around him getting ready for some much needed racktime. However, his mind was suddenly awake again the moment his glance fell on his rack and the person, the woman occupying it. He blinked but the beautiful redhead stretched out on his covers didn’t vanish. Questions about the how, when and why flooded his mind, but not one made it past his lips, the word stuck in his throat as his eyes travelled the length of the goddess’s legs that didn’t seem to end. The naked legs, his mind specified. Naked as the rest of her. A seductive smile and the red mane which formed a corona around her head on his pillow were all she was wearing. His respiration quickened, his knees turned weak whereas a different part of his anatomy hardened.

Locking eyes with him, she angled a leg while she trailed a hand down her body to the apex of her thighs.

The temptations too strong, he was unable to uphold the eye contact, found his gaze drawn to where her hand had wandered. Transfixed by the sight of this sensual creature teasingly stroking herself, playing with herself, playing with him, his feet seemed to be glued to the floor, although his erection strained his boxers, screaming for him to jump her bones, to take her. But only when she asked, “Wanna join?” in a low almost-whisper, he was able to shake his motionlessness. Still, he couldn’t even find the word to answer her, just stripped off his boxers and kneeled down on the edge of the rack.

His mind couldn’t decide where to start. Too many places of her beckoned for his attention – her legs, her sex, her breasts, her lips and every patch of skin in between. However, while his mind was still contemplating the best course of action, his body moved on its own volition, his hands caressing her legs, his lips kissing up her torso from the stomach to the breasts, then closing around a nipple.

The woman beneath him arched into his touch, moaned her pleasure. A small part of his mind, the last one that was still able of coherency, launched an alert, expressed its hope of the other pilots being too preoccupied with themselves, with sleep to care about what was going on in his rack. The major part of his mind, though, couldn’t have cared less. They had survived that nightmare, the constant attacks. They, he, deserved to celebrate life. In addition to that, he relished the distraction of what he had done mere hours ago. He knew this execution – he couldn’t think of a different word fitting what had happened – would haunt him for a long time to come, knew he’d have to face those memories, work through them sooner or later, but for now, he only wanted to forget, wanted to enjoy living. And what better way to do just that than savouring the company of a beautiful woman, than savouring her, than joining with her? It was clear that she had come here for that, had come to him – a fact which touched him and undeniably stroked his ego. This strong, pulchritudinous woman had the same needs, the same cravings as the rest of them and had turned to him to satisfy those needs, to satisfy her. She must have gone out of her way to come here, and he was please she turned to him, trusted him with her body.

Switching breasts, he moaned as she wound her fingers into his hair to hold him in place – as if he wanted to leave this heaven; even cylons couldn’t have dragged him away from her right now – caressing his scalp with her fingertips and –nails. Her other hand went boldly to a knee, trailed up his thigh to his rock hard cock around which she closed her fingers, stroking the length from base to tip and back.

Instinctively, he thrust into the touch, only noticing his action when she teasingly let go of him and he pushed into thin air. With a mixture of embarrassment at how easily his primal urges took over and confusion, he released her breast from his mouth to look into her eyes. Whatever he had expected to find there, it certainly hadn’t been the humour evident in the twinkling of her eyes and the broad smile. She was even more beautiful when she smiled, a random thought, an observation crossed his mind.

Playing, there was no other word to describe what she was doing with him, but he wouldn’t complain for he enjoyed this game far too much. Especially when she took both of his hands in hers, guided them to either side of her head, giving him no choice but to climb between her legs, over her if he wanted to keep his balance and not collapse onto her.

Kneeling above her, he took his time to study her – first her face with his gaze, her green eyes, absorbing how her lips curved in a smile, the little lines framing either – he wanted to kiss them all – then his lips followed the gaze, giving in to the temptation, placing tiny, soft kisses onto her temples, next to her eyes, onto her cheeks before claiming her mouth in a deep, heated kiss.

After some long moments that left them both breathless, he started to kiss his way along her jaw, down her neck and farther south her body. Slow, sensual were her movements as she writhed under his ministrations, driving him mad without even knowing it by simply being herself, by surrendering to the sensations his touch coaxed from her.

Whereas his mouth watered already at the scent of her arousal, he indulged the grown boy within and dipped his tongue into her navel simply because he could, because this was a game, because he thought it cute. The move earned him a soft giggle. Yes, definitely cute; he couldn’t help but grin. Pressing his open mouth over the navel, he blew hot air against her skin, making her shiver.

Moving on downward, he drew a wet line from her navel to her labia, dove between them, tasting her for the first time. She jerked slightly as this tongue grazed her clitoris, but spread her legs even further. An invitation he couldn’t decline. Enthusiastically, he suckled, lapped, teased and nibbled. Louder and louder, her moans became, spurring him on, patting his ego. Nothing like a responsive woman who obviously enjoyed herself under him. And responsive this redhead was. The opposite of the buttoned-up image he had of politicians, but then, she had never appeared to be the typical politician to him. She was too soft, too caring to fit the cliché, even though she had proven to be able to make the difficult decisions, to roll the hard six as his father used to say. He admired her for that, but didn’t envy her. Her problems and responsibilities weren’t ones he wanted to have.

To heighten the stimulation, he pushed two fingers into her wetness. At the sudden intrusion, she gasped, her hips bucked, pressing into the touch.

As much as he wanted to lick her to orgasm, he wanted to watch her come undone, wanted the image for lonely nights, for nights of frustration when others around him would steal his sleep with the sounds of their frakking, for nights, moments, showers when he had only the company of his hand to relieve frustration, to satisfy his body’s carnal needs. So he replaced his lips on her clit with a thumb and lifted his head to look at her face. Her expression spoke of pure pleasure. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted in a moan, facial muscles relaxed. It was a sight artists’ inspiration nurtured from. Increasing the pressure and the speed of his fingers’ movements, he stroked her to orgasm, didn’t stop when her walls contracted around his digits, when she loudly moaned in bliss. Only her hand on his wrist made him halt his motions.

“Too much,” she breathed, slowly opening her eyes, locking gazes with him. A smile on her face, she reached out, cupped his chin, guided him upward again until his lips hovered over hers. Raising her head, she closed the minute distance to kiss him tenderly, only a caress of lips. The touch almost moved him to tears. It had been a long time since he had last felt a touch that soft. The image of a viper pilot, his image, couldn’t be blamed for that, at least not entirely. However, he had no intention of changing that; he couldn’t afford it, not at times like the ones they were now living in. Thus he treasured, relished the touch this wonderful woman bestowed upon him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, sincerely, when she pulled back.

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you?” she asked, smiling that he had to grin in return.

“Maybe. But don’t. It was my pleasure.”

“Not yet.” For a short second, she raised her eyebrows suggestively, which was the only hint, the only warning he got before she wrapped her amazing legs around his hips and pulled him down to her, his erection nestling up against her wetness. A burst of fire shot through his neural net upon the contact, robbing him of all coherent thought, reducing his ability to speak to single syllables and primal sounds. This ability was diminished even further when he slid into her wet heat. Like liquid silk she felt around him, deliciously tight, fitting around his hard cock like a second skin. Groaning, he began to move, encouraged by her undulating hips. Despite the urgency of his desire that dominated his mind, his first thrusts were slow, almost gentle, savouring the sensation of touching her so intimately, of seeing her, of smelling her and – he closed his lips around a nipple once again – of tasting her.

For a little while, she granted him the opportunity to simply enjoy himself with her body, but then she moved her hips to meet his thrust for thrust, speeding things up. Although the end came faster that way than he would have liked it to, he wouldn’t complain, couldn’t. Fast and hard, he hammered into her, making them both groan loudly in lust. A crescendo which reached its climax when he came in her. One of her hands on her clit ensured her joining him in the bliss shortly after. She certainly wasn’t shy about what she wanted, took it without shame, and she was beautiful doing so.

His breathing erratic, he collapsed on her, relishing the feeling of her soft curves pressed again his chest, a hand running up his back, slapping him forcefully.

“Don’t fall asleep standing, Apollo. Or are you afraid of the bed bugs?” Starbuck teased as she made her way past him to her own rack.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he stared at his empty rack, trying to discover a hint that... “Stop it, Lee,” he told himself.

Full of disappointment and frustration, he climbed under the covers, his head hitting the pillow right next to a long, red hair that remained unseen.


= End =
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