Literally

If this is well received, I will be happy to provide the next segment in their adventures. Constructive critique is appreciated as this is a new genre for me to write about.

~o~

She steps into her makeshift office. It wasn't much but in this little alcove of the multiverse, it was hers. The life support systems thrums and beeps in a comforting song as she walks to the corner to her make-do kitchen. She starts the heat pad and sets a kettle of water on it. She promises herself just fifteen minutes of not thinking about how to cast a silver lining on the pall that hung over her crew. Just her, the tea and her favorite cup, all that was left from a life long since left behind. Just for a moment she wants to pretend she is not here in this alcove of the multiverse, but back on the Prime Roku. Her hands hover over the kettle as steam gently trails out. Her sigh is lost in the swoosh of the door opening behind her. Looking over her shoulder as she reaches for a mug, she sees the large shape stalk into her room. Her second. All the tea in the Triton hydroponics system would not calm him. She feels the ire radiating from him like the heat of a thruster, and it was all aimed at her.

She straightens her back and squares her shoulders, readying herself for the earful she was bound to get. She tells him she doesn't have time for him to be a pain in her ass. She makes a point to ignore him and his angry air. Only the creak of his leathers gives her a warning before she is spun roughly around, instinct has her pulling her mug into the spin aiming it for his jaw. A smooth motion has his hand interceding and swatting the mug from her grasp. When she brings her other hand in to play angling a curled hand strike toward the side of his neck he is quick to take both her wrists and hold them as he leans into her. She sneers at him and tugs her hands in toward her body then reverses the movement, shoving him away and stepping aside away from the reach of his long arms. Her eyes sweep the area until she finds her mug, she is determined to have her damn cup of tea. Spying it by her desk she gives a soft sniff she, straightens her tight tunic before leaning down to pick it up.

Just as her fingertips graze the smooth porcelain handle, she feels herself go weightless and flying. Given that he is an entire foot taller than she, it was an exercise in futility when she began to kick backwards in the the general direction of what she hoped was his knees. Then she crashes down onto her desk. Inane thoughts rushed through her mind, berating herself for not cleaning off the desk just for such an unthinkable situation. Then her mind realizes that her breath had been shoved out her body. Something was uncomfortably making an impression in her lower ribcage. She gave a ghost of a hope that it was not the shock gun with the short circuit she had been meaning to tinker with. One large hand holds her down as he tells her if she enjoys being run roughshod over, he was going to enjoy doing it. They were partners after all, to benefit together from all endeavors. She barely registered what he was saying, more concerned with being zapped into oblivion by the shock gun. Her struggles ceased when the sound of a snap and the unmistakable sound of metal caressing leather. A thin pressure rested against the inside of her thigh, her mind races to think of what he had just been saying as she feels it slide upwards, the metal's coolness seeping through her leggings.

Her body stills, knowing that he has exceptional control over his weapons that he keeps at ready condition. She wills her breath to slow, as she is nearly certain the knife is his beloved 21st century brushed titanium boning knife. His gruff voice keeps her attention as he airs his thoughts on the current climate with the crew. She tries to wheeze out an agreement, a promise, anything to get him to let her up. She is stunned into silence when she feels the kiss of the metal against her skin. Without a sound he had fileted open the material that kept her warm against the bases low temperatures. She mentally follows the cold threat as it moves along the curve of her butt before slipping between the fabric and her skin. A light tug, the material falls away and the cool air rushes against her, causing her to shiver. All the while his voice is low and hypnotic, she wants to scream at him but she has seen the damage the boning knife could do with just a flick of his grip.

His heavy voice turns into a growl that reminds of her of a hungry beast. With no preemptive warning, she felt a thick object push into her, for a moment all thought of moving are frozen as she no longer feels the knife against her skin. He wouldn't dare! The object curled inside and was pulled back, only to be pushed back in. Her mind restarts and she realizes it must be his finger ravaging the long unbreached channel. She finds her voice and begins upbraid him as she gripped the opposite edge of the desk in an attempt to pull away from him. But it didn't take even a sliver of his strength to hold her in place with one hand. The offending thick digit continues its onslaught of her, moving with her struggles. Giving up on getting away, she changes tactics, grabbing anything within reach to toss behind her in the hope if she didn't hit him maybe she could distract him. She is shocked into immobility when he finally removes his finger and a resounding clap is heard, followed by a burning on her left buttock. He tells her to be still or he would hurt her. She was concerned about what more he could do to hurt her. Her answer came as she heard the innocent sound of the zip of his fly. No, really, he couldn't dare to do that to her. She became revitalized, and once more attempted to get a way, clawing at the nearly, now, clean desk, leveraging herself to escape forward. She feels the weight of his hand leave her back, then it was slipping into the tangled mess of curls, nearly grasping her by her scalp. He pulls her head back at an angle she is certain is not healthy. She tries to yell out, command him to release her, it comes out as a strangled moan.

She feels a great warmth pushing past the cleft between her legs, using her hair as a leverage, pulling her against him as he shoved inward. The pain set in, as her body still had not properly prepared itself for this violation. Her body protests loudly at the intrusion, even as it stretches to accommodate him. If a body could truly be ripped in half by this, she would be in two just momentarily. Her small sex was not used this mistreatment. She can't stop the cry that escapes her throat as he reaches deep into her. He grinds against her, bruising the puffy nether lips as well as the pounding against her interior. He releases her hair, moving his hands to clench onto her hips. Her dignity in tatters she decides the lesson is over and bucks her hips against him, thinking to knock him off balance and escape. He holds tighter and rides the rhythm of her frenetic attempt to liberate her body. He gives her enough latitude to pull away, he looks down and watches the swollen inches glide out of her tunnel until just the head is snug inside. He yanks her back against him, feeling the head ramming into unyielding flesh inside. The tight friction from the dryness, her body being stubborn and not easing his entry, it burns pleasantly. But he can tell it isn't so for her, not yet. Again he loosens his hold on her, and she tries to haul herself free. He half closes his eyes, reveling in feeling her velveteen flesh pull away. He had been waiting for this for some time, he is unable to decide if this is better than what he had been imagining. This time when he rips her back into her, he feels the sleekness of her walls slip along his length. He smiles, her body is accepting him, now if only she would.

She hears a sound suspiciously like someone spitting. Then a cool wetness lands in the valley between her plump cheeks. She snarls, and moves to pull a leg forward and under her, not realizing that she was exposing herself more to him, her body blooming before him. Her leg shoots back to kick at him, her aim is off, and she falls forward, her head banging against the desk. She rolls her head, trying to shake the haze from her mind. A swirling against the tight aperture registers into her dazed mind, before she can try to at least swing her hips, a sharp pain blooms as he plunges his thumb into her. He grips her cheeks open, pumping into both of her entries. He thinks to ask her if she has had her nanites updated. It takes a moment for her to realize what he's asking. She whispers no, it was her fertile time too. He tells her his plan B will work just fine then. Her confusion turns to relief when he relieves her bum of his thumb. He slowly pulls his cock out, but halfway out he whispers how heavenly it feels and slips back in, glides out, slams back in. Gods, he breathes, as he struggles with himself to stop. Suddenly a void is created as he yanks himself out forcefully. His big hands push her legs almost against her rear , locking his thumbs around her ankles, he grabs her waist, and as if she weighed no more than an arena ball, he flips her over. She re-experiences the weightless sensation, just before the wind is knocked out of her as she slams back down on the desk. For a brief moment, she thinks she should have grabbed the shock gun that now was flush against her spine. She shakes her head and blinks a few times before focusing on the face that she has always counted on to keep her steady when she wanted nothing more than to fall apart.

He holds her gaze, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he steps back between her legs, using his hips to push them aside. One hand he rests high on her chest, just above the forming bruise. The tips of his long fingers brushing her neck. The other hand went between her thighs, just grazing over her swollen lips. He pulls his hand up, his fingers showing the slickness from her body, tinged with red. He drops both hands to her ankles and yanks them up, pushing her knees against her chest as he forces his way back into her. His eyes never leaving hers as he watches the rapid change crossing across her elfin face. Her mind can not translate the emotion resting on his face. Calm, intent dark eyes bore into her light ones as he burrows into her tight trough. The pressure of her knees restricts her breathing, which sets her body a-tingle. She swears she can feel the ridges of his cock as it ploughs into her. She whimpers as finally the pain dances with pleasure. His look becomes more intense now that her song has changed. Her legs part giving an angled view of her breasts as the shift with each bump of his body. He reaches one hand toward them, grabbing a nipple and pinching. Her sharp intake of breath brings a tingle sensation to his spine. He does it again, twisting it and watching it darken as blood rushes to it and it hardens. He tells her to tend to her breasts. She brings her hands up to cup them, the nearly fluidic flesh jiggles as she caresses them. Teasing her nipples, she looks at him. He wonders for a moment what it would look like if he emptied himself all over those beautiful globes. He almost loses control imagining her cleaning herself up, his scent covering her. Lost in thought, he's slamming into her, hitting her button by accident, which causes her to tighten and almost fall over the edge herself.

Before they could fully appreciate the sensations, he pulls himself away, breaking the gaze for just a moment to see the entire length drenched in her aroma and sheen. He pulls her legs up, one ankle to each shoulder, legs wider apart giving him complete unfettered direct line into her body, her brows furrow in confusion as their gazes lock again. Giving nothing away, he propels forward, her voice climbs as he begins the determined journey into her other opening. Her eyes widen, and he smirks as he thrusts in, the tightness making it difficult. But her wetness has slid down, giving him ease to get the tip in. She fights to keep him from going any further. She slides her ankles up and crosses them behind his neck, locking her knees she clamps her shins against his neck. The movement pulls him down, but doesn't keep him from continuing into her forbidden passage. He reaches down and wraps his hand around her small neck. Both begin breathing raggedly, their faces pinking, as he rocks against her, earning each inch forward. He can see the agony on her face as her body is forced to accept the thick rod he is cramming into her. He can feel her insides undulating against him, trying to remove the offense. The tightness squeezes him, and it takes his concentration to hold off, determined to fill her completely. The ripping of the delicate flesh, makes her want to sob, but she won't, not in front of him, she would gulp down the tears with the last vestiges of her dignity. Finally, his body is flush against hers.

He was nearly faint from the pressure of her legs against his neck, pinching just enough to slow the flow of oxygen. It heightens the entire experience. He almost loses it then, watching her eyes blink lazily, yet her face gently screwed up against the pain. Her own cheeks flushed. He pulls away again, he watches entranced as her body relinquishes its hold on him, stretching again to let the ridge of the head come out, then he pushes again, his eyes go back to her face, his vision burring. All the way in he grits his teeth and tries to shake her legs from his neck, but her leg control is amazing and neither leg comes loose. He pulls halfway out and bulldozes back deep into her. Her half closed eyes widen again, and he hears her ragged breath cry out. He repeats it, half way out, feeling the stretching flesh gliding along the texture of his cock. Quickly, he delves back in. Yanks out, plunges in. Each time she cries. Slides away, and grinds in. Her cry turns to a whimper. Rolls his hips away, pulling out, then pushes against her, and this time the whimper is a moan.

Then he smells the spicy scent of her arousal. As if the scent gives him permission, he drills himself into her, listening to the staccato of their skins slapping together, her moans almost melodic as her eyes keep rolling back every time he delves into her. Each time he pulls away, her legs give opposing pressure, dragging him back into her. Her body moves lithe like a belly dancer. If possible, his cock swells even more, and begins the twitch that means his end is near. Her eyes pop open at the change of sensation, her mouth makes a soft O as her body begins to shiver. Breathless she cries out as he empties himself, filling her. Each twitch of his cock is answered with a shiver from her inside. They milk each other, until her legs finally drop down and his hand slides from her neck. He pulls away one last time, with reluctance. Her warmth was addictive, her pleasured sounds echo in his ears. He looks down to watch himself again, unsure if this would ever happen again he wanted to remember everything. He feels a twinge at the blood that streaked against the dark flesh of his cock, he realizes it is a pleased twinge, a memory passes through his mind, and reflexively he growls with possessiveness. Once he is fully removed from her body, he uses the ragged bits of her panties to clean himself before closing up his pants.

He leans over her and taps her face, none to gently. Her eyes slide open and he reminds her there is another meeting in ten, she might want to tidy up. He walks to the door, and pauses. Now you know what a real pain in the ass is.