Yours

Author: kira-nerys
Feedback: kira at kardasi.com
Title: Yours
Codes: NC-17, Spock/Christine Chapel.
Summary: When Spock comes back from Vulcan after his pon farr, he needs to talk to Christine.
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this story, and the characters belong to Paramount. No infringement on their copyright is intended.
Author's note: This story was inspired by my own montage, and is a part of the Spock Fuh-Q Fest
URL: http://www.kardasi.com/fuh-q-fest/

YOURS

A knock on the door awoke me. I'd just lain down on the bed to rest for a few minutes before going to the mess hall. I'd worked double shifts for a couple of days because Dr. M'Benga's nurse had gotten ill. I rose from the bed, rubbing my eyes and the bridge of my nose. I threw a glance at the mirror beside the bed and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. Then I rose.

"Come," I said, and I'd never expected the person that entered in a million years. It was Mr. Spock.

"Am I disturbing you, Nurse Chapel? I could come back at a later time..."

He seemed hesitant, uneasy, even more so than usual in my presence. I wished again that I'd never told him. I wished he didn't know. At least then, I would have had his respect, and I wouldn't make him so uncomfortable all the time.

"No, that's all right Mr. Spock. What can I do for you?"

My surprise must have been plainly evident on my face.

"It is of a personal nature... Miss Chapel. May I call you Christine?"

His words were so deep and so incredibly soft. I'd never heard him speak quite like that before and the timbre of his voice sent shivers down my spine. I finally lifted my head to meet his eyes and behind his uncertainty I could see something else; a tenderness in his gaze that I'd never noticed before. Perhaps it had never been there before?

"Yes... yes of course. Please sit down." I gestured toward the chair beside my bed. A nurse's quarters wasn't exactly spacious and there wasn't much to sit on except for that easy chair and a plastic one by my desk, and of course, my bed, where I slowly sank down as he sat stiffly on the chair with his hands on his knees. He still seemed so uneasy, and I couldn't fathom why he had come to my private quarters, like this.

"I..." he started and then silenced again. He looked around the room, as if he had never seen it before, and I think perhaps that he hadn't. It's not like he shows up at my doorstep very often. Quite the contrary. I had always had the feeling he avoided me, and after what has happened between us, I don't really blame him. But that made it even more strange to see him here, now. Again, I had to ask.

"What is it, Mr. Spock," I said. "Are you ill?"

I thought perhaps he found it easier to come to me, than to Dr. McCoy. It seemed rather strange though, because for all that bickering and arguing, I'm quite sure that they are close friends.

"No, Christine. I am not ill. I simply wish to speak to you about matters... about our relationship."

I felt myself blush crimson and I looked down at my hands. They were writhing in my lap like two scared serpents and I jumped when he reached out and touched them, stilling their movements.

"Do not be ... frightened, Christine. I have not come here to harm you."

I looked up at him with puzzlement. Of course he hadn't. I knew that. How could he even think that I...?

"I am not expressing myself very well. This is ... an awkward situation for me, for any Vulcan."

"Just come right out and say it, Mr. Spock," I begged. He was making me horribly nervous.

"Do you know why I went to Vulcan?"

"To get married. To join with your wife," I said uneasily.

"Do you also know that this marriage never took place?" He seemed even uneasier now. His hands withdrew from mine, to clasp his kneecaps in an almost painful-looking grip. His face was so stern, and if he hadn't come to me in my cabin, I would have asked to be excused. I didn't want him to look at me like that. He had such a forbidding face sometimes. But at the same time, I know what gentleness is harbored behind that stern exterior. I've never known a gentler being than Spock.

"Yes, I think so."

I had heard the rumors that said that Spock had gone to Vulcan to formalize his bond to T'Pring. She had challenged his claim to her and chosen Jim Kirk to be her champion in the fight that followed. The fight had almost cost our captain his life. I knew this, and more, but I didn't understand what it had to do with me, or why he was here.

"Do you still ... have feelings for me, Christine?" he asked, turning his head away, as if he were ashamed of even asking that question, and perhaps he should be ashamed. That hurt so much. How could he ask me such a thing after the way he had turned me away, repeatedly?

"Don't," I said. "Oh, please Mr. Spock, just... don't." I rose from the bed, trying to get away from him, but the space between us was very small and all he had to do was reach out with his hand and grab me by the arm and I would be trapped. He did just that and I felt like I had been caged.

"Christine," he said. "Please - indulge me." He looked straight into my eyes and asked again. "Do you still have feelings for me?"

I hesitated again but his gaze would not let go of mine. His hand encircling my wrist felt like a heated iron band. His brown, warm eyes held mine. How could I lie to him?

"Yes, of course I do, " I said brokenly. "I will always...love you."

There, I had said it, again. Those words I had promised never to repeat aloud to him. No matter how much truth there was to them. No matter how much I wanted him, I knew....

"I am gratified," he said. And then he pulled at me so that I practically fell into his lap gracelessly. His wiry legs accommodated me easily and his arms moved from my shoulders to my waist, pulling me closer.

"What are you doing?"

"I understand this is confusing to you, Christine, from the way I have rejected you in the past."

"You don't want me, Spock! I know that." I tried to pull away. "Why are you playing these games with me? I never thought you would deliberately hurt me."

"I am not trying to hurt you. Forgive me." His grip around my waist loosened, but he didn't let go. I could feel the warmth of his body permeating his trousers, and I nearly moaned. Being so close to him, feeling the warmth of his body against my own bare legs, only the thin synthetic fabric of my pantyhose between us... Didn't he understand what he was doing to me?

"You desire me," he whispered, and his hand came up from my waist to rest against my cheek, his fingertips drawing a line across my face tenderly.

I whimpered and turned my head, rubbing my cheek against the pad of his thumb like a cat in heat. I was ashamed of myself, but was helpless to stop it. I wanted him so much.

"You desire me," he repeated. "And I am no longer betrothed."

His caress grew bolder and I suddenly understood. He was there to seduce me. He wanted me.

"Spock," I whispered. "Why? Why me?"

"Why?" I could almost hear the tinge of amusement in his voice. "Because you are intelligent, warm and tender. You are beautiful and you have a kind spirit. Because I know that you desire me and love me. What I am does not matter to you," he explained.

"But then, why...?"

"Why did I reject you? I was bonded, Christine. When I was seven years of age, I was tied to T'Pring, destined to go to her when... the time was right. I had no choice in the matter."

I waited.

"But now, Christine, I can make my own choice and I choose you. If you will have me."

If I would have him? I had to laugh; a shaky, tearful laughter. I had no pride where he was concerned. Never had, never will.

"Yes, Spock. I will... have you. Of course. Whatever you want from me, it's yours."

He rose from the chair then, and he wouldn't let go of me. His eyes were so dark and so filled with passion. I didn't even know he could look like that. I felt his arousal against my hip as he carried me the few steps to the bed and lay me down there. My mouth went dry with wanting. I couldn't wait for him to undress me or to undress himself. Instead, I simply pulled him down on me, spreading my legs, wanting him there, against me, touching me. Feeling his weight on me was like coming home. I had dreamed of it for so long.

He was hard against me, and I moaned aloud as he settled between my legs. It was a dream come true the way he touched me, the way he felt against me. He was tall, lean and so warm; so incredibly warm. Then, finally, he kissed me. I watched his face getting closer and my heart sped up in my chest. His lips were dry and insistent, and he pushed my lips apart. I tasted him and he was sweet and tender at first. I opened willingly to him, allowing his tongue to probe inside my mouth, I drew him in aoaneoaned against the caress.

The kisses changed, and he kissed me open-mouthed, passionately, and the creature in my arms was a far cry from the controlled man I was used to seeing on the bridge. He pulled at my skirt, pushing my clothing away. I whimpered as his hot hands grabbed at the tender flesh of my thighs, moving upward, gripping the mounds of my ass, pulling me closer. I bucked against him, spreading my legs wider as he ground himself against me. He moved down with his head, my dress falling aside. He moved one of his hands, undoing the clasps, pushing my bra aside, pulling one sensitized nipple into his mouth. I whimpered, closing my eyes, the sight of him suckling my breast almost too much to bear.

"Want you," he murmured. "Want you so much...."

The words spilling from his mouth made my head spin. I'd never in my wildest dreams imagined his voice like that, so rough, so filled with wanting - for me. His grip around my buttocks grew harder and he pushed my panties away, ripping them in the process. His fingers were suddenly cal, tl, tender as he parted the sensitive outer lips of my sex, caressing them slowly in the process. I gasped as he moved the fingers over me, slick with my juices. He rubbed me slowly, then faster and I wondered where he'd learned to do this, but soon I could no longer think. He pushed one finger inside me, moving in and out languidly and I opened my eyes to see his gaze trained on me intensely, as if gauging my reaction just by watching the play of emotions on my face. I blushed at the intimacy of that look. He pulled his finger out and then pushed two inside me.

"This is most pleasurable," he whispered. "You feel very good. You are so wet and so warm around my fingers," he whispered and the passion rose in his eyes. I squeezed around him experimentally. He gasped and pulled from me at that moment.

"I burn for you, Christine," he gasped. "I burn for you."

I looked at him as he pulled away, his lips swollen from our kissing. His face was flushed and his eyes heavy-lidded with passion. I'd never imagined seeing him like that. It was making me go crazy. I reached out, helping him unclasp his trousers, pushing the black fabric away, wanting to see him up close, wanting to touch him, taste him.

Oh, sweet God, I would never get enough of him. The scent of his arousal was filling my nostrils and I reached out to touch him. His flesh was so hard and so hot in my hands, like silk-covered steel. Curiously, I ran my fingers along the darkened shaft and drank the sight of him hungrily. idn'idn't look that much different from any human male. His cock was a deep shade of blood-green of course, and the two ridges were different, but other than that... he was beautiful and I touched him greedily, trying to find other differences, or similarities, to human men. But I wanted him to be different. Spock was special, at least to me.

I leaned forward and licked at his shaft, needing to know if he tasted differently. He threw his head back then, moaning, looking so wanton.

What a sight he was, on his knees, leaning back on his arms with legs spread, still half-dressed. I could see the hairs on his stomach peeking out from under the black shirt he was wearing and he was so needy, so hot, thrusting into my hand as I caressed him. I couldn't wait to see him undressed, wanting to watch the play of his muscles under his skin as he tensed at my touch. I reached out with my hand, pulling the buttons out of their holes. The shirt fell apart, revealing a beautifully muscled, lightly furred chest.

"I need you," he whispered as he lifted his head and looked into my eyes. "You do not know how much. I shall tell you later, now I must have you."

And he did need me. It was like a cooling balm on my frayed nerves, and hurt feelings. It seemed that, as he was touching me, I was forgetting how much he had hurt me. That was something I needed maybe even more than the caresses and the sex I knew was to come.

He pushed me back on the bed, none-too-gently and I chuckled, spreading myself for him, wanting him so much. Settling between my legs again, he shrugged the shirt off impatiently and he was so beautiful. Even more so than I'd ever imagined. I had seen him without his shirt on sometimes in sickbay, but not like this, when I was so aroused. He was beautiful as he moved to push into me and he slid inside easily. I was so wet and so ready for him. How couldn't I be, seeing him like that, touching him like that? I threw my head back and moaned when he sheathed himself in me, settling his hot weight on top of me. I drew my legs up, allowing him to penetrate me deeper.

"Oh, Spock," I cried as he moved inside me, pulling out and pushing back slowly, again and again. "Oh, more," I cried.

He fucked me slowly at first, speeding up as I no longer could lie still and just take it. I bucked against him, feeling the pressure building in my abdomen, spreading like a fiery heat through my midsection. I was going to come, soon. He pulled out of me, all the way, and I could feel his slick ridges as they left me, stimulating my soft, sensitized flesh, gliding over my sex, then pushing back, giving me the wonderful sensation of first penetration once again. He repeated thision ion over and over again until I was sobbing, begging him.

"Harder, Spock, please, fuck me harder!"

And then he did, pushing into me faster and harder, and I was coming in glorious waves. The pleasure rippled through me like a tidal wave, and I threw my legsund und his thin waist, riding that pleasure, trying to hold onto it, keep it and never let it go. He joined me then, and watching his pleasure, seeing his face contort with it was almost as good as coming myself. He was beautiful and I hoped it would go on forever, but it slowly subsided. I was wondering if this was the first and the last time he would ever love me like this. He slowed his movements gradually and I could feel his cock tensing over and over, still coming inside me. Then he stopped, burying his face at the crook of my neck, breathing fast and hard. He was even a little sweaty. I'd never seen him sweat before.

I reached out and touched his damp hair, careful now, not sure where he was going with this. He'd fucked me, I knew that much, but what then? Wouldriserise, return to his calm self and think that this was all that I wanted from him? Or would he look up and have that expression on his face that I'd longed to see for what seemed like forever? Was he even capable of loving? I'd given up hope on that so long ago, and here he was, rekindling it once more. Did he understand?

"Christine," he whispered.

"Yes?"

"I am Vulcan," he said. "I will never be what you want me to be, but I wish to be yours."

END