kirktastic | [NCC-1701 DEN OF SIN] -- [Special Rules, Open All, OOC Character Moment!]

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[NCC-1701 DEN OF SIN] -- [Special Rules, Open All, OOC Character Moment!]

Rules: - simple and easy.

1) Unless you obviously already have an agreement or something going with another character, please ask before you post under their thread wanting to have sexy times. THIS INCLUDES PEOPLE FROM OUTSIDE THE RP AS WELL! If you aren't part of our group but want to have some fun sexy times with a character... well, shoot them a PM! Within the group, please do the same as a courtesy.
2) Don't be discouraged, upset, or anything similar if someone doesn't want to sex up with your character. Just reply to their PM with a 'no thanks' if you really don't want to for whatever reason. They could be too overwhelmed with other threads, or wanting to concentrate on one, or just don't have time to take more than one thread. Don't take it personally, please.
3) Post down below with your name AND your location in the subject of the thread if you want to be somewhere specific (like Jim will be specifically on the bridge) and change it for anyone who comes by. That way, its the absolute easiest way to find someone, track someone, gloss over someone, whatever.
4) If you're going to be doing something that COULD squick someone, please mark it with a warning in the subject of the comment. Just a courtesy thing!
5) Talk to someone before sliding into a multi-person scene. Don't just interrupt without making sure you're wanted.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He was so close she could feel his breath as he spoke, warm air drifting across her cheek. She swallowed reflexively.

"So would I."

They couldn't get very close, not with her knee up between them, his hands anchoring her leg. But he was close enough for this. She raised her hand to his cheek, stroking her thumb against the skin, tracing the dark line of his tattoo.

The kiss was more certain this time, Christine pressing her lips gently but firmly against the heat of his mouth.

She was sleek and soft, cool against him and so gentle that the touch was no disrespect to his ghosts. They'd have liked her. A wistful, inane thought that Christine banished with the firm close pressure of a sure kiss.

He leaned his head slightly--the angle was narrower than he was used to, how new--and parted his lips just a little to catch at hers, seeking permission but not insisting. It would be a bit awkward, but they could be closer if she wished it.

That would feel nice. She was lovely.

He sucked gently on her lower lip, almost questioning, and she opened her mouth slightly, to catch her breath and to return the gesture. Her hand moved along his cheek and then down to his jaw and back; he had cheekbones to die for, like this, and she wondered briefly if that was the case no matter what form his body took.

Her fingers found soft hair just behind his ear, and she combed gently through it, nails scratching and circling in patterns on his scalp, the gesture meant to be both soothing and stimulating.

The gentle play of fingers, the pull of her lips on his, sent a shiver trailing down his spine. It dawned on him that it had been a very long time since he had kissed a woman, and that yes, it was different, gentler somehow--and that it was good. Different, but the same, and she threaded a hand in his hair that he rubbed back against before he could help it, feeling comforted and--it hummed all through his skin, lazy easy desire that wasn't focused down, that mostly just wanted to touch back. How interesting.

His outer hand slipped from her ankle and smoothed upward, tracing the curving swell of her calf and squeezing carefully, fingers curling along the back of her knee. Ankle tendons ran all the way up the leg. This would help soothe the hurt.

She was cool and satiny under his hand.

She hummed against his mouth at the contact, her own fingers twisting in his hair in response.

It wasn't enough, somehow, to show her appreciation, and she reluctantly broke the kiss, a quick last press of her lips against his before she pulled back.

"That feels wonderful," she murmured, tilting her head downward to press her forehead against his. "Like a hot stone massage."

She pulled back, eyes widening as it occurred to her. "You must be freezing."

That sound. Fingers in his hair, he'd missed that, light scratching pressure that tingled outward from his scalp.

Other men (women? Other people) would certainly have taken unseemly advantage of that remark. He was only going to press it a little. There was no apprehension in the contact, nothing tense about the way they were already touching.

He didn't quite have to feign a shiver as she pulled away. The goosebumps were also real. He rubbed a hand up his own arm, slowly, fingers catching more firmly than they needed to, testing the feel of smooth flesh.

"It is cool in here," he admitted. Trying not to purr.

"I'm so sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I was going to get you a blanket, before." She glanced down at her ankle in regret - but not too much regret.

His hands had felt so nice.

"Here," she said, and shifted down the bed, stretched to catch the blanket folded up at the end.

She had to sit right up against him in order to get it, and lean close, brushing against his back as she reached around him.

In retrospect, it would have been easier to stay put, to direct him to fetch the blanket himself. But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to regret that either.

She pulled back and shook out the folds, drawing it around his shoulders.

"Is that better?"

She didn't let go of the blanket.

Soft cloth furled smooth across his back ~~where she had been just a moment ago, pliant and cool~~ as she tucked it over his shoulders.

She wasn't letting go.

"Warmer already." He tugged just a little, slid one arm from underneath and carefully spread it across her upper back. "You can feel the difference."

He might get slapped. It might be worth it.

It was instinct to lean into the touch, to let the blanket fall from her fingers and slip her own arm around his waist.

"I can," she agreed. "It's very nice."

It was very nice. Very warm, and comfortable, and...

She snuggled closer, reaching up to pull the blanket around them both.

She had just nuzzled right up to him. Just like that. And this blanket was so soft. And they would be warmest together.

"So are you," he said, and the truth of it made him smile.

He hugged her close.

The compliment didn't register right away, she was so comfortable.

When it finally did, she looked at him in surprise, tilting her head back and up to meet his eyes. He was smiling down at her.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

His lips were very close. It only took a little effort to reach them with her own.

He kissed back, a firm warm press of lips as his hand slid higher, wrapped the nape of her neck to bring them closer, the roots of her hair warm and silken under his fingers. Wouldn't pull--some kind of pins in it, something that held it in that pretty arrangement, didn't want to hurt her.

And it might be good to let her breathe.

"Christine." A breath of his own. Definitely tasting her name.

She smiled against his lips. He was so gentle. She wouldn't have expected that.

"Ayel?" She reached up to brush his cheekbone again, let her fingers travel further, lightly tracing the tip of his ear.

"You're lovely, too."

He felt her smile, the lift of lips against his, her fingers light as feathers across--oh. There.

"You were looking," he teased. Pressing back into her touch ~~like a cat~~, turning to kiss the hollow of her wrist, a flicker of tongue where her pulse leapt under the skin.

She blushed, and her eyes flickered to his chest automatically. It was covered by the blanket now.

~~A shame.~~

"That's not what I meant," she said. "But..." She shivered as he angled his head to press an openmouthed kiss against her wrist.

"But it's true."

She went bright pink and shivered against him at the touch.

"Don't want you to get cold, either," he murmured, watching her through lowered lashes.

He had to let the blanket fall, so he could wrap a corner over her. It was just the nice thing to do.

It also put them closer together. To better trade body heat.

She smiled. "Thank you," she said, as he wrapped the blanket closer. "That's very kind of you."

"But..." She hesitated, letting her fingers trail idly across his skin where her arm wrapped around his waist.

"But I think we could both get warmer," she said, finally, bravely, "if we were to lie down."

She risked a glance up at him.

That was a very good idea, even if it burn his cheeks yet again.

He pressed a kiss to her nose when she looked up at him, his hand splayed wide and sliding to the small of her back.

"I agree. It's a good plan."

And he leaned back slowly, just tugging on her corner of the blanket a little, teasing.

Christine blinked in surprise at the kiss, before her mouth curved upward into a smile at the realization. He was playing.

She reached one arm out to the mattress to catch herself as she let him pull her down with him. And found that she couldn't resist the sight of his bare stomach as he leaned backwards and the blanket fell away. She reached out, glancing up to his face with a quick grin as she danced her fingers across the expanse of skin.

If there was such a thing as a ticklish Romulan, she bet he was it.

He did not shriek. That would be undignified.

He did squirm breathlessly out of the way, laughing around a gasp as he rolled over, bucked upward, fingertips seeking still-clothed ribs.

"Play fair," he laughed. "You're all dressed."

It tickled anyway, even through the fabric. She giggled, as much at his response as at the touch, and curled up instinctively to protect herself.

"That's hardly my fault," she pointed out, trying to reach him. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

His arms were longer. It wasn't fair.

He was just out of reach if he pressed back very, very far. Her arms were too short, and half-curled toward her middle to make a fence, block his hands.

It didn't quite work. Skitter, skitter, skitter-- his new fingers were very well suited to this kind of thing, tapered and long.

"Well." It was just a huff of air; Christine almost unbalanced him and he wriggled to the side. "If we matched," his eyebrows quirked higher, "things would be more even."

She meant to point out that he had an advantage already, that if they needed to level the playing field in any way it certainly wouldn't be toward him - but then his fingers slipped between her arms and found her stomach again. Her voice caught on a sound that was half laugh, half gasp, her body twisting beneath the touch.

She reached down blindly, grabbing both his hands in hers before she could think about it. Forcing a reprieve.

He gasped. Heat curled sharply down behind his bellybutton, drove every nerve in his body alight. He curled his fingers under hers and pulled her down to him, kissed the base of her ear, the curve of her jaw, made a small, needy wet sound against her lips--

Oh.

She could really kiss. He was actually a little dizzy.

Christine froze, staring wide-eyed as she realized what she'd done. But it was too late to apologize, and anyway he didn't really seem to want her to, not the way he was clutching back and, suddenly, pulling her toward him.

She fell solidly half on top of him, but he didn't seem to notice; he was too busy kissing her everywhere. He whimpered against her mouth and something tightened low in her belly. She kissed back, squeezing his hands once before gently releasing them, moving them to rest lightly on his sides.

She didn't want this to be over too soon.

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