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Potions and Philters	By : Bebe Category: 1 through F > Andromeda Views: 2316 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Potions
- 2-Philters
- 1
- 2
Title: Potions and Philters

Author: MouseBebe

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Pretty, shiny, but ain’t mine, more’s the pity.

Spoilers: Forced Perspective

Feedback: Praise and constructive criticism welcome.

Pairing: Beka/Tyr

Archive: Please ask before archiving.

Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a little nudge. PWP.

Author's Note: Very (very, very) loosely inspired by “Cingula Veneris,” by Andromeda Valentine. It’s an excellent story, and I urge you to go read it— after finishing mine, of course!

Philters (2/2)

Beka looked down at herself one last time. She’d ditched the shirt and the leggings, replacing them respectively with a strappy tank top and nothing, before jamming the boots back on hastily. She felt way too exposed. She just hoped she didn’t run into any of the others on her way back to Command deck. Dylan or Rommie might just cough or raise an eyebrow; Harper, however, would not let her live the outfit down. She smoothed the skirt over the tops of her thighs again, compulsively, then braced herself and reached for the little test tube before dabbing the perfume on her throat, wrists, and cleavage. Overkill, maybe, but she didn’t want this to go wrong. She capped it, set it back in her locker, and headed for the airlock of the Maru, hesitating just before rolling back the door. One quick diversion to the medical closet behind the galley and she finally left.

There was, thankfully, no one in the corridors, it being ship’s night, and it was only a quick walk to Command. Tyr was, as she’d hoped, alone and standing at one of the consoles, but he looked up when she reached the door. “Hi! I forgot a flexi here earlier, did you see…?” Without a word, he held it up. “Thanks!”

He looked perplexed when she stepped over the threshold, suspicious when she got halfway down the ramp, and fell like he was poleaxed when she reached the console he was standing at. Apparently the stuff did work on Nietzscheans. By the time she got onto the platform next to him, he’d managed to get himself sitting, leaning against one of the support struts for the console. He was shaking his head and blinking like he wasn’t sure what was going on, but suddenly losing a great deal of the blood flow to the brain would do that to anyone. She crouched down next to him. “You feeling alright?”

“I— There’s something—”

“I wondered if this stuff would affect Nietzscheans.” She was rewarded by him focusing on her face and so continued. “You should probably know that it’s not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, and as far as I know there aren’t any side effects. Well, other than the obvious.” She looked down significantly at said obvious side effect.

“Why—”

“Because I have a couple of questions. Like whether you were telling the truth when you said you could never be attracted to a human woman?” She shifted, knowing he could smell her, and he groaned and closed his eyes. “So I can assume that was a lie?”

“I can’t—” He swallowed. “In a purely physical sense, I could be attracted to a Nightsider. In…” He seemed to be fighting to maintain his thread of speech. “In the sense of who or what I could be attracted to with the goal of crossbreeding in mind, I could only be interested in a Nietzschean woman.”

“So you can be attracted to humans, you just shouldn’t be. You know, if you’d mentioned this a few weeks ago, dinner would have been much simpler.” She smirked when he opened one eye, then shifted again, letting her legs be a little farther apart and giving him a glimpse. He closed his eye again. “Second question, Tyr. Could you, in the purely physical sense, be attracted to this human? Not that I think I really have to ask.”

“No. You don’t.”

“What I thought. Okay, last question.” She leaned forward slightly to give him a better view when he looked at her again. It had the extra effect of another whiff of the perfume, and it seemed like the leather he was wearing still had a little give in it, after all. “Would you want to indulge in the attraction?”

“Beka, we can’t.” He said it with a hint of desperation.

“That’s not answering the question. I can promise no consequences, no repercussions, no one else has to know, and,” she held out her hand under his nose, displaying the foil-wrapped discs she’d raided the Maru’s medical cabinet for, “even if you don’t trust the birth control I’ve already got, here’s extra insurance for no crossbreeding. If you don’t want to, that’s fine and I’ll never mention it again, but you’ll never get another chance. Yes or no?”

He groaned again, thumped his head against the console support, and studied her. She was surprised he had that much self-control still. Finally, he nodded and in seconds she’d dropped all but one of the packets next to his leg and was straddling him, carefully unfastening his pants and peeling them away from the admittedly impressive erection, already damp at the tip. “Wow. That has to be uncomfortable.”

“You have no idea.”

“Actually, I do. This stuff affects me, too.” As she said it she ripped open one of the packets and quickly unrolled the sheath over his cock. She didn’t waste any more time on the preliminaries, moving to sink down onto him as soon as it was secure. He was bigger than she’d thought he might be, stretching her around him, but she was soaking wet and it was hard to contain the quiver of anticipation as she slid down. She could feel him pulsing inside her; this wasn’t going to take long, something confirmed when he moved his hands up her thighs and under the skirt to rest on her ass. She shifted and his fingers tightened on her.

One slide up and down and his nails were digging into her, another and she was sure she was going to have bruises but didn’t care, a third and he was bucking into her, his whole body shuddering as he came, the way he pushed up into her and jerked her down onto him grinding them together and taking her with him, the orgasm crashing through her faster than she would have ever thought possible. Even in her fantasies she hadn’t thought that it would take this little to set them off.

Stunned, she braced herself with her hands on his chest, trying to get her breath back even as the last ripples of sensation went through her. He relaxed beneath her, loosening his hands, and she could feel his erection ebbing inside her, enjoying it for one last second before easing off of him. It didn’t take long to clean them both up, and she settled back onto his thighs feeling much better than she had only half an hour before.

He was watching her move and let his hands rest on her legs. “What, precisely, is ‘that stuff’?”

“Something I found.” She grinned. “You can tell what it does.” Rather than let him keep asking, she leaned forward and kissed him, crushing her lips against his. She knew he could do it again, wanted him to as soon as possible because the smell of the perfume still hung intoxicatingly around them and teased her. Unsurprisingly, he cooperated, scraping his teeth over her lip when he drew back. He looked like he was about to say something else, but she kissed him again, rougher this time, and caught the bottom edge of that metal-mesh shirt, only breaking the kiss long enough to tug it off over his head. That done, she dragged her fingernails down his chest, making him groan when she caught one of his nipples, and down his stomach to his groin, stroking him once and feeling him start to harden again under her hand. Preoccupied, she didn’t notice him reaching for her own tank top until she felt the straps sliding down over her shoulders.

He didn’t take it off. Instead he pushed the straps down her arms until she wriggled free of them rather than have her motion compromised, then pulled the top edge down to expose her breasts. Rough thumbs to her nipples made her arch, breaking the kiss, and then he slid down to her hips, this time over the skirt, and pulled her forward. She rocked against his rising erection, moaning at the tantalizing press against her clit. She could feel him clench his fingers on her ass again— not surprising, he always did spend a lot of time staring at it when he thought she didn’t realize— and then he moved them back to her breasts again, weighing them against his palms and brushing over the sensitized tips. He pressed more roughly when she rocked a second time. “I want you again,” she told him before leaning to nip at his lower lip. She scrabbled for another of the packets, opening it with fumbling fingers and sliding back to give her enough room to put it on him. He helped her, steadying her hand with his, his eyelids half-concealing as he watched the movement. She stopped to kiss him one more time, liking the feel of his lips under hers, and he gripped her hips again. The kiss ended, she started to lift and push down onto him, and then he was lifting her instead, pushing up and away. “What—?”

He stood up, pulling her with him, and twisted her around so she faced the console, confusing her until he forced one leg between hers and pushed them apart. She barely had time to brace herself with her forearms before he jerked her skirt up over her hips and thrust forward. She cried out, that first stroke sliding all the way inside her and filling her, and whimpered when the next one pushed her against the console, hard and cold against her excited nerve endings.

“That’s not the intended use of those controls.” Beka blinked, panting for breath, and looked up to see a miniaturized hologram of Rommie standing on the upper edge of the console. She flushed hot, embarrassed, and Tyr froze, buried all the way inside her and his hand firm on her hip. The hologram sniffed. “You had better clean up when you’re done.” The “or else” was implied. She blinked out, her disembodied voice announcing privacy mode, and the console powered down under Beka’s elbows.

“Okay?” she said weakly, not sure how to respond, and Tyr’s palm rested briefly against the base of her spine, bringing her back. One slow circle of his hips, and when she responded by tightening around him, unable to do anything else with the renewed surge of arousal, he pulled almost entirely out of her. She made some noise, desperate and wanting him deep again, and as if that was a signal he drove forward, this time not ceasing the pace and slamming her against the console. It hurt, the repeated bumping, but she didn’t care with him inside her, against her, making every nerve fire almost painfully with the sheer need. She was almost immediately there, hovering on the brink of orgasm, but she couldn’t get that little bit further to come. She pushed back onto him, and it still wasn’t enough. He must have noticed, the way she was moving against him, and suddenly he wasn’t there, making her curse.

He hauled her upright and spun her around, and his grasp on her pelvis was iron when he boosted her onto the console, warm now from her body heat. The skirt folded underneath her, thankfully out of the way, and it fell back against her abdomen when he slid his hands down her thighs. One he lifted high, draping her calf over his shoulder, and when she hooked her knee at his waist with his encouraging hand she was completely open to him. His first movement was to plunge into her again, the depth of it driving him against her mound, and her back curved up off the deadened console with the next, her whole body going rigid with the lightning arcing through her and sparking again and again in time with his thrusts. She couldn’t control it, didn’t want to control it, and couldn’t prevent the disappointed moan when the feeling faded.

He’d reacted to her spasms too, each stroke harder and faster than the one before, and she curled her fingers over the bottom edge of the console. His hand on her knee was an anchor, but not enough to keep her in one place against the force of his hips. He was leaning forward, his other hand braced next to her side and the angle of his body pressing her leg to her chest. Her muscles burned at the stretch, but she didn’t care; everything was conspiring to drive her higher, and she could feel herself tensing again, knowing that another peak was drawing closer. She arched her body, encouraging, wanting him to make her come again and on the verge of begging. He groaned at her movement. “Don’t—”

She already had, and a harsh cry ripped from his throat as he jerked against her, into her. She tried to move onto him one more time, aching for just a little more, but it didn’t help, taunting her more. Instead he dropped his forehead to her chest, breath hot against her skin, and shuddered at the lingering effects of his climax. She eased her grip and brought one hand up, tangling her fingers in the braids at the back of his head. “Alright?”

Another moment and he nodded. She let go of his hair and he disengaged, letting her leg down carefully and helping her slide off the console. Her knees nearly gave out when she put weight onto them, still affected by the double blitz of recent orgasm and painfully aroused but not quite there, and he held her arms long enough for her to steady herself. She did, leaning forward against his chest and smelling sweat and sex and the perfume, feeling another throb at the mixture. Immediately, she slid her hands down his stomach and slid the thin sheath off of him with one hand, starting to stroke with the other. She wanted him as soon as possible, wanted something to ease the ache between her legs. “Beka—?”

“I don’t want to wait,” she said, then knelt down. He was soft again, but gasped when she licked him, and grabbed for the console for support when she sucked. She slid her hand down and squeezed his testicles, gently, keeping the other at the base of his shaft. After a second he responded, starting to harden under her hand and mouth. She would have smiled, pleased at the quick response, but instead shifted one finger to press at the sensitive stretch of skin behind his sac. His whole body twitched violently, the motion accompanied by more, immediate blood flow bringing him fully erect, swelling inside her mouth. She had to pull back to just the head, considered letting go entirely with how much she wanted to be filled again, but decided to give him just a little bit more. One quick stroke of her hand over the shaft, then she did it again, timed to match the flick of her tongue over the little slit at the tip. He grunted and thrust up to her, sliding in her hand and into her mouth a little deeper, and that was more waiting and teasing than she could take.

She let go of him, scrabbled her hand next to his feet until she found the last of the foil packets, and then stood, shoving it under his fingers on the console. He reared his head back to avoid her skull making contact with his chin, but tilted it down again until their mouths were so close that she could feel his breath on her lips when she whispered, “The chair. Now.” She’d had fantasies about that chair. He dipped his head more, until she felt the brushing kiss, then he stepped back. With precisely-placed steps, he backed to the slipchair. She followed him, thighs damp from need, and watched as he got up gracefully despite the leather still binding his legs, his eyes never leaving her. Once he was settled, looking almost comfortable, she stood between his knees, leaned forward and licked him one last time, hearing his quick intake of breath. “Well?” She looked significantly at the protection still tight between his fingers.

As soon as he’d taken care of that detail, she pulled herself up onto his knees, straddling him with her back to him. It took a minute for them to get the angles right, for her to brace herself with her feet wedged between his legs and the armrests, but then she was sinking down onto him again, temporarily appeasing the throbbing ache. When he was all the way inside her, she bit her lip and leaned back against his chest. She couldn’t get over how big he felt; she knew she’d pay for it, especially that session over the console, the next day, but right now all she wanted was him filling her. His hand came around, pressed against her abdomen, and she slid her own over his and down to her clit. She wanted to come now.

Carefully, she eased up and back down again, moaning faintly at the slide. He was pressing, at the height of each stroke, against her g-spot, and timed with the pressure of her fingers against her clit it took less than a minute for her to come, grinding down onto him and barely hearing the sigh against her ear, too busy with the muscles spasming throughout her body. It took long seconds for her to come down from the high, despite his hand insistent against her stomach, and when realization finally dawned that he was still hard inside her, still needing his own release, she smiled and rolled her hips on him, sending another small shudder through her.

She started moving again, still timing her fingers and body together. He was lifting his hips with each motion, meeting hers with equal force. She could see his fingers tightening on the armrest out of the corner of her eye. “Beka,” he managed, hoarse. She placed the palm of her free hand on his arm, placating. “Beka, Beka…” He pressed his face against her neck, breath hot on her skin, and she shivered.

“I know,” she whispered, “believe me, I know. Come on,” and she moved just a little faster. He matched it, thrust for thrust. His skin was damp with sweat, his pants for air harsh beneath her ear, and she hoped that he could last just long enough for her to come again, as her own reactions were winding tighter and tighter throughout her torso. The sensation was sparking between her legs, and her toes curled and uncurled with her quick glide onto that thick length. She was hovering, almost there, and then Tyr growled and bit down onto her shoulder, his whole body seizing underneath her, his pelvis driving up into her. That little bit of pain was enough, too much, and she dug her nails into his forearm and howled.

The shudders racked her body again and again, triggered by Tyr’s own ragged thrusts. She’d closed her eyes, seeing only the fireworks under her eyelids, and when she opened them again she almost didn’t recognize the bright colors of Command deck. She could still hear the gasps for breath at her shoulder, though, could feel the throb of the bite there, and eventually when muscle control reasserted itself she twisted her head to kiss him. His response was perhaps pleased but less than enthusiastic. “Did I manage to wear you out?” she murmured, amused.

“For the moment.” That didn’t stop him from licking gently at the spot he’d bitten, making her shiver.

“Probably just as well.” She eased off of him and down to the floor, holding onto the armrest until she was sure she could support her own weight again. “That was the last one.” She made her way to the console they’d started at and tossed him another packet, this time a disposable wipe, picking up the litter there while he cleaned himself up and refastened his pants.

He came up behind her while she tossed everything in the disposal chute and helped pull her tank top back in place. “I suggest we continue this later?”

“Oh, I’m holding you to that.” She slipped out of his arms and headed for the door, stopping only to grab her boots as she passed. She’d managed to wear herself out, as well, and barely got to her quarters and stripped off her clothes before falling into bed and a dreamless sleep.

The rest of Tyr’s shift was excruciating. The scent of the perfume, of sex, of everything they had done hung in the air, and even after he knew the air scrubbers would have taken care of it he thought he could still smell it, although that might have been what was clinging to him. For hours all he did was inhale that intoxicating mix and remember what had happened to create it, and he was more than willing to leave when Dylan arrived, yawning and bleary-eyed, for the early shift.

He made one divergence from his otherwise-straight line to the crew quarters, pausing on Med deck and grateful that Trance had not arrived there yet that morning. It was no time at all before he was standing outside Beka’s door and entering the code to open it on the keypad. It didn’t open immediately. Instead, the hologram flickered in next to him again. “Those are not your quarters. How do you have the code?”

He gave her a steady look. “It is the correct code. Open the door.”

“She’s asleep. You can’t have been invited.”

“I believe privacy mode was still on when she left. How would you know?”

He suspected that if stomping a holographic foot would have had any effect, she would have done so. With her bluff called, she had no way to protest and flickered out, opening the door as she did so. “Engage privacy mode in Captain Valentine’s quarters,” he informed her as he stepped inside. He had no idea whether she had, but the door whooshed shut behind him.

He could see Beka lying in the bed, apparently naked under the thin sheet, and he grinned. Silently he made his way to the empty side of the bed, discarding his clothing there, before lifting the sheet and sliding under. She was warm and relaxed, he discovered, and yes, naked, her smooth skin against his when he wrapped himself around her body.

“Mm. Tyr?” She stirred, pressing back against him. He could smell the perfume still on her body; she hadn’t showered after she left Command. There was definite, if sleepy, amusement in her voice when she asked, “Decided to try for more?”

He didn’t say anything, instead scraping his teeth lightly over the spot he had bitten. There was a darkening bruise there, and he was careful not to press so hard as to hurt. She laughed, low and heated, and shifted to give him slightly better access to her neck. He groaned. The movement pressed her against the erection that had quickly made itself evident once he’d entered the room, and it wasn’t helped by the wave of scent that accompanied the motion, the enticing smell of wet, aroused Beka curling into his nose. She pressed again.

He pulled away, and he heard her ask, confused, what he was doing, but the sound of him opening one of the packets from Med deck must have answered the question. She was looking over her shoulder when he moved back, grinning. “Impatient?”

“Yes.” She was already leaning mostly forward, having apparently been sleeping that way, and he contoured her body, his weight pushing her to the mattress. One shift and he was between her thighs, slipping against her wet folds. It was too much, too tempting, and with another groan he was on top of her, pinning her to the mattress and thrusting inside her. She gasped, but it was probably more out of surprise than displeasure. Her body clung to him, tight around him, but he had no doubt that were it not for the barrier he’d be able to feel how wet she was with the ease of the slide into her. She’d braced herself, meeting his thrusts, and now she was moaning, begging for more, harder. He didn’t have any problem with that, one hand on her hip and jerking her up at an angle so he could get as deep as possible.

He felt her muscles ripple in reaction, not an orgasm but drawing close, and he wanted to make it last but it was too much after those hours of waiting and thinking on Command. It started at the pit of his stomach, shot through him before he could stop it, made him shudder and drive into her one last time as it overwhelmed him, forced a cry from him, made him aware only of the clutch of her body around him. He was unable to stop the shaking for a long time.

Finally he eased out of her, moved away enough so that she could roll over onto her back. She made a face at him while he got rid of the sheath, before he settled back between her legs. “That was… hm, sudden?”

“I apologize.” He took a deep breath of her scent. “I’ve had nothing to do but think for several hours.”

“You can probably think of what I want, then.” She lifted her pelvis just enough to rub against his cock, hardening again already. It wasn’t hard to guess, but he decided on something different.

He dropped a kiss on the curve of her breast, feeling her shiver in reaction, then slid down the bed. This close her smell was overwhelming. Tentatively, he pressed his fingers against her, sliding them in with ease, and when she didn’t object he flicked his tongue against her clit. She sighed happily and arched up slightly. Encouraged, he continued, moving his fingers in time with the pressure of his tongue, and within seconds she was writhing under his hands and mouth. He kept going, abandoning licking for sucking, and then there were fingers winding into his hair and pulling him down as she gasped incoherent demands. He curled his fingers and felt her spasm, tugging harder on his hair before clenching around his fingers. He kept going, drawing it out, and when she stopped cursing he even paused a moment, although he didn’t stop the lazy stroke of his fingers. She’d eased off his hair for a few seconds, and he took advantage of that to reach for another of the discs. They were farther over to the side of the bed than he’d remembered dropping them, not that their activity couldn’t have moved them, and by the time he’d grabbed one Beka had definitely recovered enough to realize what he was doing. She just smiled lazily, taking it from him to rip it open, something that he infinitely appreciated given that she was currently the reason for his inability to use one hand. He didn’t stop, though, not until he’d slid back up the bed, and then he was inside her in one smooth stroke.

He set up a slow rhythm. They’d both already come once, after all, taking their time wouldn’t hurt them. She seemed to be enjoying it, limbs loose around him, so he was surprised when, a minute later, she twisted under him, hooking her leg around his hip and rolling them over until they were on their sides, facing each other. He was still buried inside her. She didn’t let go, either, starting to move against him in at the same slow pace, and he realized when she hitched her leg a little higher that she felt tighter around him with the motion. He caught her, one arm around her ribcage, and kissed her before starting to thrust gently again in time.

They didn’t say much. Probably they’d been talked, begged, cried, and moaned out already, but it also didn’t feel necessary this time as they quietly rocked together. He knew she was close when she closed her eyes, a stutter in the slow roll of her hips, and he kept them both going. He was aching anyway, wasn’t going to last much longer himself, but he wanted her to be first. She was. A few more slow strokes and she was clutching at him, her whole body rippling, against and around him. She was still contracting sporadically around him when that same wave overwhelmed him and dragged him under.

When it had passed, they were still entwined on the bed, faces so close that it was no problem for her to tilt her head to kiss him. “Alright?” He nodded. “Good.” She kissed him again. “I’m going to get a shower, and then I’m going to get some more sleep, I think. No promises about anything else, but,” and her eyes were sparkling at him, “you’re welcome to join me for both.”

The End
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Potions and Philters