Passing the Time

BY : Bebe
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 2607
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.

Title: Passing the Time, Part 2

Author’s Note: I'm glad to see so many hits after a week! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Just so you know, this has already been written out, so I should (fingers crossed) get the rest of the chapters up in short order.

Beka had never been so glad of Nietzschean boneblades. It may have been her idea to start, well, fooling around with Tyr, but it had been his boneblades that had rendered rather impressive damage to his bed during their first attempt and thereby forced the necessity of sharing a mattress, and that was something that she was hardly going to complain about. It provided so many opportunities to take advantage of him well beyond what her initial suggestion of the arrangement had encompassed, after all; he was surprisingly susceptible to seduction when he was just starting to relax or wake up. She did suspect that he was, to a degree at least, faking his state of vulnerability, as she’d seen him snap awake or fall asleep in seconds on the Maru, but she wasn’t going to argue with a fiction that let her have her way with him on a frequent basis.

Now, for instance, would be an excellent example. She was sure that he’d been awake longer than she had, but he was doing a wonderful impression of someone still on the borders of wakefulness, at least judging by the lazy patterns his hands were tracing over her skin, stopping and starting at random. She smiled to herself, knowing that he couldn’t see very easily from the angle that he was at, and stretched ever so slightly back against him, pressing against his groin.

“You’re awake.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact, punctuated by one hand sliding up to brush over her nipple.

“Mm-hm. You too.” Very awake, in fact, judging by the feel of him against her. “Feel like getting up?”

Now he tilted his head to kiss her shoulder, his hair dragging against her skin. “Not yet.”


They stopped talking after that; Tyr was more involved in dropping kisses over her shoulder and neck and making those same patterns over her torso, although they were a little more focused than before. She simply lay there and enjoyed the sensations, the slow arousal and intermittent pulses of warmth through her body shaping up into a wonderful start to her day. Soon, she felt Tyr nudging one knee between her thighs, and she decided to resist a little, keeping her legs closed against his attempt; sometimes she enjoyed frustrating him the tiniest bit, and was usually rewarded with a more impressive response. Normally he put up with it, knowing that she’d make it up to him later.

This time, though, he actually growled, something he almost never did, and put more force into it. Not only did he manage to get between her legs, he kept pushing, bearing down on her to pin her on her stomach, stretching his body over hers. Within seconds, she was very effectively trapped between his body and the mattress. “Uh, oof?”

She could almost feel the bastard grin against the back of her neck. “Do you have a problem?” he murmured, kissing her spine as he waited for an answer.

“Well, air would be nice.” She tried moving, but with no luck. He’d left her with just enough room to let her breathe, and even as she said it she could feel him settling between her thighs.

“You can talk. You can breathe.” His hands slid up her arms, pinned her own next to her shoulders. Just to make it complete, he curled his fingers between hers, pressing the tips into her palms. This one she wasn’t going to argue with, since it kept his boneblades very neatly pointed away from all of her various body parts. While she may have appreciated what they’d done for her sex life, she did not want to explore close physical contact with them, especially since they tended to be in the alert and ready-to-maim position whenever Tyr was aroused.

“How about the ability to move more than a couple of fingers?”

“As well as your legs and head?” This time he actually nipped at the skin over one shoulder blade, and she couldn’t repress the reactionary shiver.

“Yeah, more than that.”

Another quick bite and she moaned, pressing back against him. Complaints aside, he was getting to her, and she could feel herself starting to get damp as he bit her again, dragging slightly this time. The aggression was starting to get to her, and she pushed back again, harder this time, and deliberately slid against him. He growled again, moved, and before she realized what he was doing he settled between her legs and thrust.

“Tyr-!” and she scrabbled for purchase, pulled herself away. He froze but didn’t move away, and she couldn’t get enough leverage to get him out. “Get off!”

He obeyed instantly, pulling out and lifting above her slightly, giving her room. She breathed a sigh of relief as the pain eased, and apparently when he was sure she was all right he relaxed again, although he refrained from covering her so completely again. “What happened?”

“Just… way too much, too soon.” She shifted slightly, feeling a lot better now that the pressure was entirely gone. “Wasn’t quite ready for that yet.” She felt him hesitate, the quick inhalation that he always made when he was uncertain of what to say. “I’m okay, I just… little too fast there.”

“Do you want to stop?” He dropped another kiss against her back, and she could tell that, concern aside, he definitely didn’t want to.

“No, keep going, just go slowly.” She felt him relax more, settle against her back, and he tightened his grip on her hands briefly. He might have been trying to reassure her, as the next thing he did was to shift so that he was pressing against her: not forcing it, but letting her know that he was there and ready. When she didn’t protest, he began to inch forward.

Beka could feel the muscles stretch with each centimeter of progress. It didn’t hurt this time— the slow pace helped, and she was more prepared— but it was still a little uncomfortable, and she wasn’t getting much pleasure out of it. He must have realized that, and consequently stopped partway in, to give her time to adjust, taking advantage of the pause to kiss and nip at her back again. She’d be surprised if she didn’t have marks later, but the sensation of his teeth against her skin made her moan happily. Taking that as consent, Tyr slowly started moving forward again just as slowly. It was taxing his control, she could tell; his breathing was harsher than usual, and every muscle was tense as he made one last, tiny push to be fully seated inside her.

He held himself very still for a long moment, every cautious exhale ghosting over her spine and his own hands tightening spasmodically on hers. When he gently rested his forehead against her back, apparently trying to give himself some time, his braids shifted and brushed against her skin, sliding down her back and sides and making her shudder. He groaned. “Beka, please…”

“Okay,” she responded after a second, fighting the urge to twist against the infuriating tickle of his hair. “Okay, just slow still.”

She couldn’t focus on anything except the feel of his body over hers, the stray soft open kisses he dropped against her back, the slow glide as he eased almost entirely out of her and then pressed forward again, the rhythm building with each movement, each pause, as he fought to keep the pace. Each movement and caress teased her until she was wet and the effect of the slow strokes spread through her body.

They weren’t enough anymore.

Beka very carefully pushed back against him as he pressed slowly into her, urging him home the last nanometer faster than he was moving. She smiled to herself when the motion encouraged him to speed up, each stroke faster and harder and shorter, until she was gripping the sheets for leverage and being forced into the mattress with each thrust. They were both panting now, slick with sweat, and Beka could feel her body screaming for just a little more stimulation; she wanted to come so badly, was so close.

Above her, Tyr growled again and dropped more of his weight onto her, no longer thrusting but more bucking into her, closer to what she wanted but still not enough. She was trying to move against him but couldn’t, unable to move far enough between his body and the grip he had on her hands, and it simply wasn’t enough before he lost his rhythm and squeezed his fingers tighter on hers. She could feel him, buried deep and spilling inside her, his movements more halting until finally he was gasping above her.

After a long moment, he moved, slowly pulling away from her and almost collapsing onto his side next to her. Now free, Beka stretched her arms out, then rolled to face him, momentarily distracted by the faint sheen of perspiration over his muscles. “You okay?” she asked, reaching out to push some of his braids away from his face. His eyes were closed, but he opened them as he answered.

“Yes. But you didn’t…” He glanced down her body.

“No. But I think that’s the first time that’s happened, so I’m not going to complain too much. It’s just a little… uncomfortable.” To say the least. Just moving her legs was killing her, with just enough to tease and not enough to satisfy. “So what set you off? You’re not normally that eager.”

He shrugged with one shoulder, having propped himself up on the opposite elbow. “I— There was a dream. It was rather stimulating.”

“Ah.” She grinned at his obvious discomfort, both at admitting the dream and at what he was probably thinking of as his failure. She’d noticed that he tended to be, well, cockier, poor choice of words aside, when he knew she’d fully enjoyed sex. She just hoped the opposite wasn’t true, because she didn’t feel like dealing with a mopey Nietzschean until he could prove his prowess. “Well, you can always make it up to me. Feel like making breakfast?”

“I believe that would constitute a compensatory action, yes.” He still didn’t move and instead seemed to be considering her as he lay there.

“As in, I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes?” She grinned at him, but was mentally willing him to get lost already. She really didn’t feel like trying to get herself off with an audience.

“You seem to be very eager to get rid of me,” he commented, reaching out to trace a tightening spiral on her breast.

It took a great deal of self-control to not arch up to it, especially as he concluded by teasing the nipple. “Yeah, well, I’m hungry.”

“I doubt that.” His fingers slid down the plane of her stomach and hesitated just above the patch of curls. He looked… surprisingly uncertain.


“Show me,” Tyr ventured, letting his fingers hover. “I know that as soon as I leave, you would… relieve your frustration. Show me. If this happens again, I can help.”

She stared at him. Not exactly what she was expecting, really, but then again this particular situation didn’t arise very often. And she would have thought he’d know, but now that she thought about it, it had never been an issue; she was usually the aggressor and hadn’t seen any need to arouse herself beyond a certain point. “All right, fine.” She rolled onto her back and slid her own hand down under his. “But I expect you to remember this later.”

“I have excellent memory.” He smiled as he said it.

Beka took a breath, closed her eyes. The urge had subsided slightly with the conversation, but it only took a second for all the frustration to come roaring back. She slid her fingers down and brushed one gently over her clit, feeling her toes curl even at that little, and waited a moment before doing it again, harder this time. She worked into a rhythm, alternating light and heavy pressure, and after a minute she reached down with her other hand to slide a couple of fingers inside. It was no comparison to having Tyr inside her, nothing like having someone stroking it and out, moving against her and sliding so deep… She arched up to her own hand, biting her lip to keep from making noise, forgetting for just a moment that he was still there next to her and that she didn’t have to muffle herself.

And then he was kissing her, the angle awkward but the feel of his mouth against hers so good before he cupped one hand over hers. He mimicked the movement of her fingers as she stroked, and when she pulled her hand away with a faint sigh he took up the motion, stroking two fingers into her in time with her other hand on her clit. She grasped his forearm with her newly free hand, barely missing the boneblades, and urged him deeper, harder, stepping up her own speed and pressure. “Come on, there, that’s it, now…” She knew she was babbling and didn’t care, especially as she could feel the crest approaching. With one final arch up to their hands, she made one strangled noise and felt it break over her, the spasm making her whole body shudder.

She came down from the high panting, hips still lifted while he lazily slid his fingers inside her and made her shiver once more. At some point during her orgasm she’d clutched his arm with both hands, and he’d taken over, keeping the pressure on her clit with his thumb. “Okay, so now you know…” she paused for a very deep breath, “what to do. If I need— mmm,” as he’d curled his fingers inside her, “— if I need some help again.” She relaxed her grip and lay back, feeling vaguely disappointed when he removed his touch. She’d been enjoying that, dammit!

“However unlikely it is that the situation will arise.” He was smirking again, all confidence in his abilities apparently restored. “And I imagine that while you want some time to get dressed, you still want me to feed you. Therefore,” and he kissed her again before rolling out of bed and heading for the door, grabbing his pants on the way, “I will start making it while you get up.”

He was out of the door by the time she found something to throw at him.

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