Continued from Expiation 3/4

For disclaimer, see part 1/4

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Expiation 4/4
 
 

"Chakotay out," he growls, and my startled gaze falls back on his
face, meeting his unflinching dark eyes.

"What happened to your hand?" I ask stupidly.

He raises an eyebrow. "My hand?"

I look down at his hand and then up into his eyes again. "Yes, your
knuckles. They're hurt."

He slowly blinks. "My hands are fine."

How can he be so calm? I feel a buzzing start in my ears again. "What
did you do to him?" I ask. Please say you didn't do it. Please tell me
you didn't kick his ass on my behalf. The last thing I want is a horde
of mad Maquis after my life for ratting on one of their own.

"I simply administered some Maquis discipline," he says, and that's
when I notice the slight tightening of his jaw, the flush on his skin
deepening with every heartbeat, and it suddenly occurs to me that he's
trying his best to take it slow, to stay calm, but in truth his
control is only skin deep.

Something inside me warns that now isn't the time to test his control.
His anger is too tightly coiled at the moment. He's this close to
completely springing out of control, so I should probably not get in
his way, but my mouth all of a sudden has grown a mind of its own.

"Their replicators are offline," I hear myself protest and I know I
have finally gone crazy for I am complaining on Yosa and his gang's
behalf. How much more convoluted can my life get? "You've locked them
in their quarters for more than forty-eight hours," I say. "They'll
starve."

"They're Maquis, Tom. I know how to keep them in line. They won't
die."

"This is a Starfleet vessel."

 "Is it?"

All of a sudden, I feel exasperated at his stoic facade. "I didn't
place any charges." Yes, I didn't place any charges and I need you to
stay the hell out of this mess.

"You didn't have to," He grits his teeth. "Your safety is my
responsibility. I take my responsibilities very seriously, Tom."

"I can take care of myself, Chakotay," I hear my voice rise in volume.
"I don't need you to be my keeper."

"I gave my word."

What? "The life-debt?" I ask, puzzled. "That means nothing."

"It means everything to me," he snarls.

But that's not the way it's supposed to be, dammit. I can take care of
myself. I have to. What he did with Seska was one thing, but this
can't go on.

"You've gotta be kidding, Commander." I try to write off the whole
issue in a flurry of insolent cockiness. "I only said it because I
wanted to get you alive out of the caves. I wasn't even serious."

His face freezes, his eyes glazing over, as I feel my heart jump in my
throat.

"You weren't?"

I take a ragged breath. "That's right."

"Tell me, Tom," he says, wetting his lips with his tongue, my eyes
lingering on every movement, as he looks up and down my length, and
then cocks his head to one side, as if assessing me. "How long has
this been going on?"

"What?" Why the sudden shift in the conversation? I look at him,
trying to mask my emotions but I fear he can read me like a book.

"These threats." He arches his eyebrows. "How long have you been
receiving threats from the Maquis?"

"Threats? They're just empty words," I shrug nonchalantly. "They mean
nothing."

His eyes bore into mine. "How many other times have you been attacked
by one of my crew?"

"Never before," I stress, suddenly feeling trapped. "Tonight was the
first time and it wasn't really an attack. He just got a little
rough." What is he getting at? He's their former captain. Wouldn't he
have known if something like this had happened before?

"How many others, Tom?" he growls, taking a step forward.

"I am telling you, Chakotay." I feel my hands clench as I see his mood
shift yet again. "This was the first time something like this
happened."

"He assaulted you in front of five people." Another step forward; a
deepening of the frown. "Are you telling me, this was the first time
someone has done that?"

"Yes." I find myself take a step back. "But, I was the one who started
it." I suddenly realize he's too close, and that he's too angry, and
that if things get out of hand, if he loses his temper, I won't really
have any place to escape to.

"You're saying that the first time someone DARES attack you," he
continues, as though he hasn't heard what I said. "And he does it in
front of an audience?"

"Isn't that the normal pattern of sexual offenders?" I blurt out
before I can stop myself and then wince as something that looks like
pain crosses his features.

"How many other incidents, Tom?" There's something desperate,
something almost desolate in his features, in this voice, and I feel
my heart squeezing in my chest.

"None." I hear myself choke.

"You're lying." His eyes are hot with anger, yet there's a hint of
unmistakable sorrow glistening in their brown depths.

"Chakotay, what's wrong with you?" I demand.

He's this close to almost touching me, so damn close, that I can smell
his heady musk again, and feel his warmth invading my senses. I
suddenly feel shaken, almost drunk, as if I've been drugged, my head
swirling in confusion, as something I haven't felt in a long time,
something so long forgotten that I can't even place it in the right
category, stirs inside me.

"Why are you trying to save them?" he growls, as with just another
step he is standing right in my face, his hands clenched into fists.
His eyes flash dangerously. "You're supposed to report these incidents
to ME."

"There are no incidents to report, Commander." I try to wiggle away
from him but I am trapped, for I can feel his hot breath fanning my
convulsing throat, can smell his scent filling my nostrils, and my
body isn't really responding to the commands of my befuddled brain as
efficiently as it should.

"I don't believe you," he snarls, his eyes accusing, as he grasps my
arms and pins me to wall.

"What are you doing?" My heart lurches and I grip his shoulders,
trying to push him back.

"He TOUCHED you."

I feel his hot breath on my face, his fingers digging into my biceps,
his face filled with conflict.

"He was THERE in Sandrine's when I told everyone to lay off you and he
DARED defy me."

Somewhere in the haze, my fuzzy brain comes to a rickety conclusion.
Ah, so, this is what it is about, huh? He felt his authority
undermined and now he's going to take out his rage on me?

"He was DRUNK, Chakotay." My fingers dig into his shoulder blades, his
body too damn warm, as he presses closer, his one hand gripping my
shoulder and I see the other clenched hand rise. Oh shit, he's gonna
hit me, I hear a voice inside me scream, my heart hammering inside my
chest as I struggle to shove him back, not really wanting to hit him,
"Dammit, Chak," I say, my body instinctively tensing in anticipation
of the blow.

The blow that never comes.

Instead, his hot mouth lands on mine, his silky tongue slipping inside
my lips as he devours my mouth, his hands gripping me, pushing me flat
against the wall, his whole length pressed against mine. For a moment,
I am shocked into stillness, my ears buzzing, my heart beating wildly
inside my chest, as his tongue strokes my clenched teeth and his
velvet lips suck mine like there's no tomorrow.

And then that feeling, that emotion, that had been evading me, that
had been playing hide and seek with my senses just a while back, comes
crashing back into full awareness, and my brain curls up letting my
body take over.

My eyes close, my mouth opens, as my arms - my arms that had been
gripping his shoulders, ready to shove him off me - move around to
pull him close instead. He grinds his hips against mine, his mouth
hot, his tongue relentless, as I feel his straining erection
blissfully jutting against my groin, hot, hard and twitching, and an
acknowledging moan escapes my throat, as my own cock hardens and
presses against my now too tight shorts in response.

It's this moan, I think, that takes him out of his reverie, because he
suddenly starts and wrenches his mouth away from mine. With an effort,
I open my eyes and stare at him, his face flushed, his breathing
hitched, and I know I paint a mirroring picture. He looks at me,
dazed, and flinches, his eyes filling with sudden remorse.

"I, shit, Tom, I..." he stammers, his eyes suddenly fearful at what
he's done. "I didn't mean to do this, I...I am so sorry..."

But I am not. We're past this. There's no time for guilt. I can't let
him wallow.

So I grab his shoulders and pull him back to me, catching his lips
with mine, drowning his cry of surprise with my invading mouth. This
time it's my tongue that darts into his mouth, my arms that fold
around his powerful, muscular frame and pull him against me, and my
hips that thrust forward to rub against his throbbing arousal.

I feel his warm fingers in my hair, massaging, stroking, running
through the curly locks, and then he holds my face in his palms and
carefully, deliberately, unlocks our meshed lips. I groan in
disappointment at the loss of contact but he strokes my cheek with his
thumb, and looks into my eyes, his warm brown eyes black with desire.

"We can't do this, Tom," he groans, his breathing ragged, his eyes
filled with conflict.

I squeeze his shoulder blades and run my hands down his strong back
until they are resting on his hips and then I squeeze the firm swell
of his ass, kissing him on his swollen lips.

"Yes, we can, Chak. I need you," I plead, my heart thudding. "Please,
I need you to fuck me."

Something glitters in his liquid gaze, a fleeting hint of pained
realization about something, about everything, my pain, my hurt, my
need for him, before it's replaced by sultry, hungry desire. I am
pulled into a fierce embrace again, his mouth moving over my parted
lips, kissing them, and moving down my neck, his long thick fingers
trailing fiery paths down my spine. I hear his ragged, "Oh Spirits,
Tom." against the side of my throat as he grinds his hips against me
and, with a shudder, I nudge his legs apart with my knee, my other leg
wrapping around his thigh.

"I need you, Chak," I groan, holding him close, rubbing his back,
"Make me forget about them all," breathing his sweet scent, "make me
yours."

And then he's walking me into my bedroom, my legs wrapped around him,
his arms tight around my waist, his lips pressed into mine. Still
kissing me, still holding me, he lowers me to the bed, and I watch,
enchanted, as he slowly strips, hovering above me, gorgeous and
glistening with sweat, looking like a medieval god, carved and molded
into an idol worth worshiping.

I watch with glazed eyes as his large, magnificent cock bounces free,
jolting against his flat belly, its purpling, blunt head glistening
with drops of pre-cum. I gasp as he tugs my shorts down and lies down
full-length on me, his arms secure around me, his fingers rubbing my
back, circling my spine, squeezing my ass, stroking my skin, sending
electric sparks all through my nerve-endings. He licks and nips at my
lips until they part, and then his tongue is plunging into my mouth,
dueling with mine, kissing me senseless, and driving me out of my
mind.

My fingers slide into his hair, trying unsuccessfully to clutch the
too-short strands, and then slide down his back, gripping his arms, my
fingernails scratching down his back, as I taste his sweet nectar,
nipping his supple lips. He suddenly grabs my arms and pulls them over
my head, his eyes dark and deep and aflame with passion. My straining
cock trapped beneath his, I moan and writhe as he rubs the twitching
length of his erection along my belly, but he bites my upper lip and
growls. "Stay still." And then, gently licking and kissing the sting
away, "You're not to move," he purrs, "not an inch, Tom."

Thoroughly spellbound, I can't help but tremble as his satin tongue
moves up to take a tour of my face, seductively dancing over my eyes,
contouring the fluttering line of my lashes, cavorting atop the bridge
of my nose. Just the tip, that tantalizing tip, delicately, softly,
almost randomly, stroking my chin, my cheek, my nose, until I am
whimpering with need. And then moving onto the side of my face, where
it plays with my left ear, flicking the tip - that tantalizing,
enticing tip - inside the hollow, making me moan, and then nibbling on
the tender earlobe, making me cry aloud.

Then taking mercy on my shivering, aching body, he takes a detour and
zeroes in on my parted lips, licking them, kissing them, just enough
to let me taste him on my tongue, before he squeezes my hands,
disengages our mouths, and moves down to my neck.

My fingers threaded through his, both hands gripped in his, I squirm
as I feel his teeth nibbling the long of my neck, his tongue laving,
licking, dipping into the hollow of my throat.

"Ahhh, Chakotay," I groan, twisting under the sweet assault,
shivering, as I feel his tongue moving along my collarbone, and then I
cry out as he nips sharply, making me jerk.

"I said," he sucks at the spot, tugging it with his lips, marking it.
"Not an inch." And then he's moving down, nibbling, tasting, teasing,
the long, sure strokes of his tongue a never-ending torment on my
electrified senses. I feel myself quiver as he tugs at the sparse,
soft curls at my chest with his teeth, his tongue running between the
fuzz, bathing my skin, and then cry out as I feel his lips close
around my left nipple.

"Oh God, Chak..." I groan, writhing, my arms flailing uncontrollably
under his relentless mouth, and then tense as I feel his fingers
digging into my wrists. I still in anticipation of more chiding, but
he just grips my arms more tightly and simply pulls them away from my
body, not saying a word, and continues on his glorious oral assault
over my bedazzled nerve endings. He sucks, strokes, tugs, driving me
close to madness, his silky tongue running over and around my
nipples - first tugging one, then the other - making me sob in
ecstasy.

I feel his hot tongue moving then, continuing its fairy strokes down
my abdomen, dipping into my navel, making my skin tingle. My breath
hitching, I groan and arch into his touch, as I feel his tongue trace
a path downward, laving a smooth curving line down my pubis, his teeth
teasing me, as he conveniently by-passes my jutting, throbbing cock
and instead moves on to my inner thighs.

I think I groan a little too loudly at this apparent infraction
because the tongue suddenly pauses and I feel a light kiss just below
my scrotum.

"What is it, Tom?" he murmurs, his tone lazy, as I feel his sizzling
tongue bathing my ball-sac with teasing strokes, "Do you want me to
stop?"

My mouth falls opens but no words come out, just panting gasps, as I
moan, my vision clouding, and feel his tongue licking its way up my
throbbing shaft.

"Or do you want me to," he purrs, "go on?"  He's flicking the teasing
tip over my drooling slit, kissing my sensitive head, my hips bucking
at the fiery onslaught. "Mmmm, you taste so good," he hums, as his
tongue traces my pulsing vein, dipping between my balls.

"Unhhh, Cha.aak."

I buck under him, my stunned mind wondering whether he actually
expects me to answer his questions, as I feel myself shudder
uncontrollably.

I hear his contended sigh, "Ohhh-kay," laughter in his voice. "I think
I got the answer," He disengages his fingers from mine and I start,
suddenly feeling bereft, my hands slack and cold at being let go all
of a sudden. "Just don't move your hands," I hear his deep voice, "And
that's an order!"

Don't move my... What the hell?

With an effort, I prop myself up on my elbows to look down at him, and
almost fall back down again, groaning, at the sight of Chakotay
swallowing my weeping cock to the root into his hot, wet mouth. Those
velvet lips snug around my thickness, I feel his satin tongue tracing
the twitching vein as his large palm closes around the base of my
cock. His head bobs up and down, his twinkling brown eyes - rich with
amusement - boring into mine, as I feel his throat muscles squeezing
my shaft and his fingers playing with my heavy balls. My eyes roll
back in rapturous content and my head does slide back on the bed when
he purses his lips around the blunt head and again teases the slit
with his tongue, my hands tightly clutching the bed sheet on both
sides.

I am gonna come, oh God I am gonna come, my mind screams, as I feel
shivers of pleasure rushing through my body, my toes curling in
anticipation of the longed for release. But before I can reach the
culmination, the blissful torment ends, and I cry out as my cock slips
out of the warm, slick haven it's encased in. I feel his hands on my
hips, hear his throaty whisper, "Turn over." And before I can figure
out what's happening, I find myself grabbed and swiveled on the bed,
being pressed down on my stomach, my cock mashed between my belly and
the hard, wrinkled mattress.

"Chak?" I turn my head to look behind me, trying to rise up on my
elbows to see where he is but a stinging slap lands on my butt-cheeks,
making me yelp in surprise.

"I said, not an inch, Tom," he growls, as I feel my thighs being
parted by firm hands.

What the fuck? I feel a surge of irritation bubbling up inside me,
what the hell does he think he's doing, I grit my teeth, trying to
wiggle out of his grasp. Except, I feel thick fingers parting my
butt-cheeks.

"What the hell are you...aaaagghh..."

My half-hearted protest dies in my throat as I feel the hot, wet,
velvety smoothness of his tongue flicker over my opening, bathing my
cleft in long, tingling strokes of his tormenting tongue. I feel his
gentle fingers smooth over the sting of his slap on my ass-cheeks, as
his soft lips plant small, tender kisses all around my puckered
button. My hips arch off the bed, my fingers digging into the sheets
at my sides, as his tongue dips into the tight opening - once, twice,
thrice - until I am crying out in part pleasure, part pain, my crushed
cock throbbing with need under me.

Just as I feel it can't get any more glorious than this, his hot mouth
leaves me, his hands squeezing my cheeks once as he leans over me and
whispers into my left ear, "Not an inch, Tom," his voice hoarse,
"don't you dare move," and then he's gone.

Oh fuck, he's evil, evil, evil, my tormented brain repeats this mantra
inside my head, as I lay stunned on my hard bed, shivering in the cool
air of my room. Before I can wallow in self-pity, though, I feel the
bed dip as he climbs behind me, his teeth grazing my shoulder, his
left arm enveloping my waist - urging me to lift my hips.

"Get up," he instructs, his voice husky, as he slips a pillow
underneath my hips.

"I thought you said not to move," I reply gruffly, my voice shaking.

I gasp as his tongue dips into my ear, and then moan, as he lies down
full length on me, his smooth skin - slippery with sweat - rubbing
against my back deliciously. "Nope," he murmurs as he nudges my legs
apart with one knee. "NOW you don't move."

His fingers, slick with something oily, slip between my ass-cheeks.

His hard cock throbs against my inner thighs, as his fingers gently
prepare me - first one, then two - slowly stretching me, scissoring
inside my tight muscle, lining the smooth walls of my passage with
silky oil. I groan, my head lolling forward to rest against the
mattress, as I feel his third finger slither its way inside me.

"Please, Chak..." I pant, wiggling my ass, as I feel half his hand
punching in and out of my ass, my cock dribbling beneath me.

"You can move now, Tom," he breathes against my neck, slipping his
fingers out, his hands settling on my hips, helping me up on my knees,
and I feel the head of his cock kiss the edge of my crinkled opening
as I brace for impact.

The first thrust is so sudden, so full, and so complete, that I nearly
lose my balance, a harsh cry of surprise escaping my throat, but his
strong arms hold me close to him, hold me upright. He's filling me, oh
God yes he is, the realization hits me as I feel a sweet, aching fire
flickering inside me - deliciously stretching me, making me whole. His
thick, long cock is throbbing inside me, buried to the hilt - buried
in one sure, savage stroke - and shivers of pleasure run down my whole
body - replacing the initial burst of pain - just as I feel his wet
tongue licking a path from my ear down to my throat.

"Shhhh... its okay," he groans, rocking his hips, his hands wrapping
around my waist, sliding up my chest, playing with my nipples. "Let me
love you," he sighs, just as I feel the tip of his tongue slide down
my spine, then up, then sideways, then across my shoulder blade,
licking and kissing and tracing its way with spit and lips and teeth.

"Fuck me, Chak," I pant, as I feel him slowly, excruciatingly, pulling
his thickness out of me. His blunt, thick head latched inside the
tight opening of my sphincter, I grab the knob of the headboard in
front of me, readying myself, and just as he thrusts back at me, I
slam my hips back into him, viciously sucking his cock back inside me.

"Fuck, Tom," he growls, his voice hoarse, as he trembles against me,
panting against my neck. "Fuck," he groans.

"That's right, Chakotay," I cry, my breathing ragged. "I told you to
FUCK me, and fuck me HARD."

Please fuck me, my thudding heart says, I need you to purge me, Chak.
I need you to make me forget.

"You asked for it," he growls, as he pulls out again, his fingers
roughly pinching my hips, and plunges back into me, sending me
sprawling on the bed. "And you're gonna GET it," he grunts.

His knees part my legs further, as he draws his cock out of me and
rams back in, crushing me to the bed, knocking my breath out. My
fingers claw at the bedding, my heart beating wildly, as his strokes
in and out of my tight channel unerringly scrape against my prostate,
sending jolts of passionate fire exploding from the center of my soul
out in all directions, searing my nerve endings in unending waves of
pleasure.

My vision blurring, my breath short, my ears ringing, my whole being
concentrates on nothing but the sweet slide of his wonderful thickness
against my prostate, and the bruising, punishing, rhythmic slap of his
muscled thighs against mine. My hard cock - pressed underneath me -
screams for release, as he pulls out almost completely on every stroke
out and then plunges deep into me, hard and rough and violent, burying
me face first into the mattress. I can hear nothing, feel nothing,
know nothing, except for his harsh breathing in my ears as his hard
powerful body rages against mine, his skin slippery with the sweet
fragrance of his sweat, his teeth sharp against my shoulder.

And so, when I hear him groan my name and feel his teeth sinking into
my shoulder, I am helpless except to shudder in ecstasy as a blinding
wave of white lightening races out from the center of my being. I feel
myself shattering into a thousand pieces, thrashing in pleasure, and
then coming back together, as my cock - untouched all this time -
jolts and gushes my hot, sticky sperm against my belly, and I hear
myself screaming his beautiful name until my throat is ragged. My arms
and legs give away as I collapse into a boneless heap, trembling and
shuddering with the force of my orgasm, and hear him crying out,
"MINE," as he rams his cock inside my clenching muscle - one last
time - before he too erupts, filling me with his burning seed.

He falls on top of me, crushing me under his weight, but I am aware of
nothing but the glorious buzzing in my veins, and the waves of
contented, unbelievable pleasure rolling through me. I hear my
hammering heart slowing down its frantic beat to match his, the sound
of his breathing lulling me, calming me. It's all so overwhelming, so
absolutely staggering that I feel my breath choking in my throat at
the surge of love that fills my heart.

Yes, I am his. He has claimed me. I belong to him now. I feel
inscrutable tears of profound relief prick the corners of my eyes.

As if sensing my emotional state, his arms tighten around me
protectively, and he holds me close, whispering soothing words in my
ears.

My eyes are fluttering close, oblivion approaching fast, and all I am
aware of is the soothing slide of his gentle hands up my chest as he
nuzzles the back of my neck and kisses my throbbing pulse. A sweet,
aching exhaustion is slowly filling my veins, as my dazed brain
registers a warm wet cloth tenderly running over my back, cleaning my
thighs, my ass, my chest, and my spent cock, but I don't know how and
when and where he got it from. All I hear is his soft voice telling
the computer to lower the lights, as he brings up the covers around us
and spoons up behind me.

"Go to sleep, Tom," he murmurs.

I love you, Chakotay. I want to tell him, have to tell him. Except I
am absolutely, completely insensate with satiation, wholly and totally
lithe with lassitude. "Chak..." I try to speak but my voice sounds
strange even to me, hoarse and ragged with passion.

"Shh, its okay," he sighs against my shoulder, his voice tired as
well, and it suddenly occurs to me that the ride was equally draining
on him. "Later, we'll talk later," he promises. "Sleep now..."

So in the warm protection of his strong arms around me, I comply.
 
 

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End Expiation