Passing the Time

BY : Bebe
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 2560
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 3

Author’s Note: Almost 300 hits on the first two chapters, wow! I'm glad somebody's (hopefully several somebodies) enjoying this. As a gentle reminder, feedback (praise or constructive criticism) is always appreciated.

Even in paradise, some rain would fall, and right now rain was drumming on the roof of the small vacation home. Warm and pleasant though the planet might have been most days, it did have the occasional squall, and as a result the two of them were penned into the small building. Beka in particular had spent a large part of the morning bemoaning her plans to spend some of their remaining time on the private beach, but eventually she had settled onto the sofa with a holonovel after lunch. Tyr had spent the morning and part of the afternoon doing various small jobs and tasks, and finally claimed the central space of the main living area for the exercises that he could do without equipment or much room. He did use a large stick, roughly the size of a quarterstaff or forcelance, for balance and the practice, but that was his only accession to the routine.

As he went through the motions, stretching and stepping and swinging, he noticed that Beka would occasionally watch him instead of paying attention to the holonovel. He wasn’t surprised; he was wearing only a pair of shorts, and after a while he started to perspire from the effort of the more complicated maneuvers. In fact, after the first four times he caught her looking up over the edge of the flexi, he started to deliberately exaggerate his movements. While not enough to destroy the effect of the exercise or to throw him off balance, it was still enough to attract her attention. He also spent a little more time than he usually would repeating certain movements and generally drawing it out. Eventually, though, he did reach the point where further exercise would be fruitless, and he set the stick aside for use the next day before going to get a shower. He didn’t acknowledge her at all throughout the routine, and in fact pretended that he didn’t realize she was there except for resting a hand on her shoulder as he went by. She responded by glancing up and smiling before returning to her story.

He didn’t linger long in the shower, but it was still the better part of an hour before he returned to the main room, dressed now in his usual leather pants and vest. He wondered, briefly, if Beka would even still be there, but was fairly sure that she would, as the rain was still falling harder than ever. Besides— he considered the way she’d smelled when he’d left the room— between his display and her normal reading material, she would probably be looking for him shortly anyway. His suspicions were borne out when he found her where he’d left her, although by now she had taken off her boots and was fully intent on the flexi, complete with her finger in her mouth as she gnawed on the nail. Even as he stood at the doorway, she shifted slightly, sliding her hips just the tiniest bit, and he could smell a fresh wave of arousal. He gave her ten minutes until she hit the point of no return and picked up a flexi of his own before sitting next to her at the precise point where they weren’t touching but could feel each other’s body heat.

It took less than the ten minutes before Beka shut off the flexi and dropped it on the floor next to her. He had been anticipating it, and by the time she twisted to face him he’d already set down his own flexi and was not surprised to have her grab a handful of his vest and pull him close enough to kiss. It was fierce, and she was biting and sucking at his lip within seconds, the hand that wasn’t clutching his vest tangling in his hair and holding him there. It wasn’t a difficult task, as he wasn’t trying to get away. Far from it: he reached over, let his own hand slide to cup her breast and rubbed his thumb over the already-erect nipple, something that made her moan and bite him again, harder this time, before catching the edges of his vest and pushing them apart. She dragged her nails down his chest, pressing hard enough to scrape but not to scratch, and he was surprised by how good the slight sting felt, tightening the hand that he hadn’t even realized had moved to her thigh. She pulled back and grinned, flicking her tongue over her own lips and making him stare.

And then she let go.

He was startled and didn’t move for the second it took her to stand up and for him to comprehend before she started stripping, tugging off her shirt and shorts with efficiency and taking her underwear with them. In less than a minute she was beautifully naked and moving to straddle his legs on the sofa. As she settled she kissed him again, something that he participated in wholeheartedly, although that didn’t stop him from noticing her shoving his vest further aside and moving her hands down to his waist. He helped her tug his pants free, lifting himself just enough for her to pull them out of the way. When the kiss broke in the effort, he reached up and pulled her head down again to meet him, enjoying her ferocity when she bit him again. As soon as that happened, he slid his hands down her body, pulling her hips closer, and she obliged, sliding forward and rubbing against him. At his involuntary groan, she broke the kiss again, smiled broadly, and reached down to hold him steady as she lifted her hips.

He wasn’t quite ready, but she was warm and wet and welcoming, and she slowly worked her way down onto him until he was completely inside her. Tyr stayed perfectly still, not sure what she wanted him to do; sometimes she wanted him to take control, but the way she’d been acting thus far suggested the opposite. He must have surmised correctly, as she let out one long, almost contented breath before rocking against him. She was, he realized, circling her hips, each movement barely lifting off of him and ending with a slow grind against him, something that apparently did wonders judging by the way she bit her lip and tensed each time she did it. He barely got any friction, but he wasn’t desperate enough to need it yet, and so contented himself with just that slight, lazy slide, and watching her as she moved, to all appearances lost in what she was doing. Her eyes were closed and her breath was shaky, and she shivered when he moved his hands to rest on her waist.

He was surprised when she shuddered suddenly, tightening around him and going rigid underneath his hands, crushing herself against him as she spasmed. This was… different. Far faster than usual, but that may have been the new motion and the way she was balanced over him. Instead of saying anything, he waited until she relaxed and opened her eyes again, although he felt a small tremor pass through her even then. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak she leaned down to kiss him again, more gently this time, before starting to move. The same motion, the same measured speed, with the occasional clench of her muscles around him. It was nice, but he wanted more participation.

He slid his hands up from her waist, resting them against her ribcage, with his thumbs just brushing the undersides of her breasts. She smiled, faintly, before reverting to the intensely focused look as she rubbed against him again— right against her clit, he realized now, why she had come so quickly already. Gently but insistently, he pressed against her back, arching her torso toward him. He didn’t wait to see her reaction before he stretched his neck forward, angling his head, and sucked at one nipple; instead, he heard her breath hiss through her teeth, at either the touch or the faint change of balance. He kept going, teasing her with altering pressure and depth, and feeling her pause in her rhythm a few times as he tried something different.

He was still surprised when she orgasmed again. She must have been very sensitive, with how quickly it happened, and he stopped his own efforts and simply watched as the flush on her skin deepened from it and her heartrate pitched sharply upward. Again, he waited, and as soon as the muscle spasms eased she started moving. She was faster this time and with a little more lift and force in her motions as she rubbed against him, something that he appreciated, as the wait for his own pleasure was starting to bother him.

He slid his hands back down to Beka’s waist, and started urging her forward, faster and harder. She gave him a disapproving look, but he didn’t stop, and after a moment she leaned to kiss him again, the contact more difficult to hold with the increased tempo. After it broke, she gripped his shoulders more firmly, started moving with him instead of letting him move her. He was glad; his own arousal was starting to get uncomfortable, and he wanted satisfaction soon, something that wouldn’t have happened with the slow pace that she had been setting before. His curiosity over whether she could come a third time was warring with his impulse to take full control and get his own. He wouldn’t be surprised if she beat him to it again, though, as even with the faster pace she was still grinding against him. She seemed to be concentrating intensely, starting to press her lips together and tighten her hands on his shoulders.

The ache was driving Tyr to distraction, and he was considering that he just might finish before her when she made the first mistake in her rhythm, hesitating for just a second when she rubbed. He felt her muscles tighten next, and almost immediately her heartrate spiked again and she started to clench around him, losing the circular motion and entirely grinding against him while she gasped. He could feel his own muscles tightening in anticipation, each contraction of her body around him getting him closer, and then, just as he was about to reach the peak, she eased around him, stopped moving entirely.

He couldn’t even think anymore, just sat there beneath her gasping. She was panting, and her breasts, damp with sweat, slid against his chest with every breath she took, and it wasn’t enough. “Please,” he managed, surprised that he was still able to produce coherent speech. He saw her nod, felt her next exhalation whoosh across his shoulder where she leaned, and then she tightened around him again and slid back up his shaft, all the way, until he had a panicked thought that she was about to leave him entirely. He grabbed for her hips again but missed when she slipped back down, still gripping him tightly, and bit his shoulder as she met his hips.

He wasn’t sure exactly how he reacted, but when he opened his eyes again she was smirking. He was far too relaxed to care about how smug she could be, although the slight pain in his shoulder concerned him. She’d never bitten him like that before, and usually she restricted biting at all to his mouth. “Three times,” she commented musingly, trailing a finger over the bite and sending a small shock through his body. It was still not enough to disturb him from his languor, though. “Three times. And nearly four, there. I’m impressed. That almost never happens.”

He shrugged. “You did most of the work. And you seemed… very intent on your goal. You were far quieter than normal.”

She snorted in response. “I’m not exactly a screamer.”

“No.” He skated one hand down her side; the sweat on her skin was evaporating quickly, but the flush remained. “You’re not loud. You’re… vocal.” It was his turn to smirk. “Although I doubt that I will ever tire of being praised as a deity.”

“Hmm.” She actually did start to slide off of him then, although she stayed straddling his legs for her final shot. “Neither will I. I thought Nietzscheans believed God was dead, though, so I’m not sure I appreciate you praising me as one.”



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