Disclaimer: The Powers that Be don’t have this much imagination, its all mine!!! (except the characters, and the trek…. And so on…)

Author’s Note: Special thanks to all of those who have actively encouraged me to continue this series, especially a very special group of ladies I hang with. Without you girls, my creative muses would have dried up and gone bust. Also a big hug to Monica for her gentle nag.. errr …encouragement.

Probably should read the others first, but it’s PWP so it may not matter.

Experiments in Human Sexuality III: Roses and Romance

By Kat, edited by Monica

“Jonathan?”

“In here, Sweetheart.” Jonathan smiled as he put the last finishing touches to the bed. “How was your shopping trip with Hoshi?”

“It was interesting. I…oh….” T’Pol’s eyes widened as they shifted from Jonathan to the bed. She was silent as she scanned the room. When her eyes came back to him she spoke. “It’s beautiful.”

He caught her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the back. “So are you.” His eyes sparkled as he led her further into the room and cut off the main lights. Her gasp of surprise echoed through the room. He moved around her, wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a chance to take in the whole picture. It had taken hours to set up, but the result was well worth the time.

Nets of glittering blue lights covered the ceiling and the curtains, casting an ethereal glow about the room. The curtains were closed tightly to preserve the magic of the lighting. Ropes of dark green garland and the Risan equivalent of white roses ran along the walls. Tiny white lights were interspersed throughout the garland, enhancing the colors. Large urns decorated each corner. Cascades of roses spilled from them with a splash of crimson. Petals in a variety of colors were scattered across the floor, their perfumed essence heavy in the air.

On the bed and lounger, colors and textures contrasted once more. White silk draped the surfaces while plush velvet pillows in hues of scarlet provided an accent. These surfaces were also scattered with petals in matching shades.

It was a setting of magic and of romance and T’Pol was caught in the wonder of it.

Jonathan lightly kissed the back on her neck as he let her go. Moving in front of her once more, he caught her hands and drew her to him. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

His smile brightened. “Good. I’d hate to be distracted by hunger pangs. Though I did have the hotel send over some vegetable soup, just in case.”

Her voice took on a husky quality and her hands shook slightly as she wrapped them around his neck. She leaned forward, nipping gently at his bottom lip. “I am a little hungry…” She moved until her body was flush with his, and nipped his lip again. “For you…”

His mouth closed over hers tenderly, tasting and teasing. When his head lifted, he waited until her eyes met his and pulled gently away from her. Taking her hand once more, he guided her into the bathroom. “I thought we could take a hot bath and relax a little. I’ve missed you today.”

Words were forgotten as she took in the bathroom. Like the bedroom it was draped in twinkling lights and garland. Rose petals floated on top of the steaming water of the filled tub. Jets attached to the side kept the water swirling gently, allowing fragrant steam to rise. The scent of roses filled the air, strong but not too heavy. The petals in this room were a variety of pinks and corals. T’Pol dipped her hand in the bath water and scooped up a handful. “So many colors…”

Jonathan reached around her and plucked a vibrant red flower in full bloom from the shelf over the tub. As she turned to look at him, he held it out to her. “This flower is the closest I could come to an Earth Rose. When I spoke to the florist and told him what I wanted, I was pleasantly surprised. This Risana,” he stroked the edge of the flower lightly, “is very much like the rose in both coloring and meaning, even in fragrance. I wanted to share that part of my culture with you. Reds represent passion, courage, respect and love. White generally means innocence and purity, but it also is indicative of charm, reverence and humility. These are the predominant colors because they represent the many things I feel for you and in your presence. Together they represent unity.” He smiled as she took the flower from him and nestled it against her cheek. When she glanced back up at him he continued. “The pinks and paler shades represent friendship, happiness and gratitude. And this one…” again he pulled a flower from the shelf, this one a bright coral. “This rose symbolizes desire.” His fingers fluttered over the underside of the rose before handing it to her. “Buds generally mean things are new or beginning, while full blooms celebrate the richness of a relationship.” He reached out and gently tapped the red rose. “I love you so much, I overflow with it. I can’t imagine loving you more, and yet every day it seems stronger and brighter and even more consuming.” His hand moved to the coral bloom and stroked the half open petals once more. “There is so much we have yet to share, so much to learn and grow with, still so much mystery, that I chose this flower to exemplify the possibilities. After all, were it not for possibilities, a Human and a Vulcan might never have come together.”

Words were lost to her. Emotion, sure and strong, welled up inside her. She had the words for logic and science, even mundane conversation, but when it came to his expressions of love she was at a loss. Emotions such as these were new to her, things she was taught to control. She had no words, but she understood what he meant. Slowly she handed the roses back to him. As his hands closed over the stems, she closed her hands over his and leaned forward kissing him lightly on the mouth. “I give them back to you, Ashal-veh. Share with me the possibilities.”

The kiss turned heated quickly, and then his hands were tangling in the buttons of her dress. As each one opened and exposed a bit of flesh, he would stroke that spot first with his thumbs, and then with a kiss. This continued until the dress, sufficiently loosened, slid from her shoulders to pool at her feet. Desire flared in his eyes as he took a step back to take her in. “Those certainly aren’t Starfleet issue, my love.” His hands came up to cup her breasts, fingers teasing the edge of scalloped lace that barely covered them. A lacy black demi-bra showcased her breasts to perfection, while matching panties with a teasing short like appearance covered her bottom. The garment rode low on her hips and barely covered the cheeks of her bottom. As Jonathan took her in, he grinned. Lingerie was not something he had ever seriously considered, but he decided he like it, a lot. As far as he was concerned she would never wear Starfleet issue again.

T’Pol’s hands covered his and her brow rose slightly. “The merchant and Hoshi both thought you would enjoy something…new.”

“They were quite right, beloved. I like them very much. In fact, I think we should get you more, in a variety of colors and styles.”

She leaned into him once more, her tongue lapping lightly at the corner of his mouth. “I am pleased you approve. You can help me go through the other bags later.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I look forward to it.”

The vision of T’Pol in silk and lace was tempting, but he wanted to enjoy her naked more. With little effort, he quickly divested her of the rest of her clothing and encouraged her into the tub. As she settled back, he began to disrobe himself. His eyes stayed on her face as he stripped off his shirt. A small burst of pride flashed through him as she watched every move he made. This beautiful woman was just as enthralled with him as he was her. When he was as naked as she, he knelt beside the tub and encouraged her to lean back. “Close your eyes and relax. Let the steam and the heat take you in.”

T’Pol did as he requested. She could hear the trickle of water as his fingers dipped into it. She could hear his breath near her ear, and the caress of it against her cheek. Silence echoed through the room and yet it was filled with sound. Her body tensed, anticipating, and she fought to keep her eyes closed. The water swirled around her in waves and she thought she felt a touch, but couldn’t be sure. There, on my hip. Again, on my knee. And so it continued until she was trembling in anticipation.

When the weight of his hand finally settled surely on her, she jumped. Eyes flying open, they went to where his hand rested. It was a casual and yet possessive touch, curled right around her ribs, just under her breast. He didn’t move, just kept that warm, solid weight against her. When her eyes moved to his face, he smiled gently, leaned in, and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “Beautiful…”

She glanced down at his hand. “What?”

“You are so beautiful. Look at us, you are so soft and smooth. My hand is rough and hairy. It makes for an interesting contrast.”

She studied his hand for a moment, silently wishing he would move it once more. She arched against him, causing it to shift slightly.

He grinned, moving his hand up to cup her breast. He flicked his thumb over the tender nub, marveling again at the textures. “So pretty… soft and lovely as a rose, sweet and tasty as a berry… I wonder.” His head dipped down, and his lips closed over her nipple, laving the pebble hard flesh with his tongue. He licked his lips when he lifted his head. “Perfect.”

Her eyes widened slightly when he climbed in the tub with her. The water rose a bit as he knelt in front of her, his knees sliding carefully between her own. He sat then on his feet and watched her for several minutes, tracing the line of her cheek, the curve of a breast, once again the touches soft, barely there, as if she were something both precious and fragile. Reaching behind her, he lifted the coral rose from the shelf. Her eyes drifted closed once more as he painted her face with the petals.

Soft, fragrant strokes whispered over her brow and eyes. Cool, delicate petals kissed her eyes and lips. Sweet, aromatic touches grazed her throat and breast, sending delicious shivers up her spine. Patterns of scent and gossamer petals brushed over every part of her from head to toe. She was stunned, by both his attention and his thoroughness.

The flowers were soon as much a torture as a pleasure. She moaned as Jonathan replaced the flower with his hands and mouth, teasing her with an eclectic blend of touches. Sensation surrounded her, drowning her. Her body moved of its own volition, begging him for release. Her breath panted and all logical thought fled. She needed him, friend, companion, but most especially in that moment, lover. She didn’t know whether to sigh or groan his hands stilled.

Jonathan leaned forward and kissed her once more. “Relax as long as you wish, Love. I’ll be in the other room waiting.” He stepped briskly from the tub and wiped down with a towel as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

T’Pol watched him in dazed silence until he slipped from the room, and then she was out of the tub as if the hounds of hell were on her heels. She carelessly grabbed up his damp towel, ignoring her own, and hurriedly dried off. The scent of roses and man hung in her nostrils and her heart fluttered. As she entered the doorway, she froze, towel dropping heedlessly to the floor.

Jonathan patted the bed. “Come… join me.”

T’Pol shuddered at the look in his eyes. She was hot, her body supersensitive. Need coiled in her in tight, tense knots. She wanted him, could see he obviously wanted her, but his eyes promised more of the sensual teasing she had just experienced in their bath. Her eyes slid over him, taking in the firm flow of muscle and man. He was sitting on the bed, flower petals all around him. His back was braced against a mountain of pillows, one arm draped lazily on a knee, while his other leg stretched out casually before him. His nudity was blatant, his arousal obvious, and oh so provocative. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering if this were all some sort of erotic dream, praying she would never wake up, and then he spoke again and she didn’t care. Dream or not, she was going to savor every minute of it.

“T’Pol?” One hand brushed invitingly over the petal covered silk. The gentle glitter of the lights and the heady scent of the flowers permeated the room with a seductive air. Jonathan’s eyes never left her. He was caught in a spell of his own weaving, and was more than content to be there. She stood just in the doorway to the bathroom. Her skin still glistened with moisture from their bath. The dim light shimmered over her, giving her an even more ethereal look, a magical creature on the edge of discovery. Oh but he was eager to discover.

Jonathan was just about to go to her when she began to come to him. She moved with a fluid grace across the room, her eyes speaking volumes as they locked with his. He was entranced, totally captivated as she crawled up on the bed and knelt beside his hip. Her hand curled around his and lifted it to her breast, pressing it firmly to the soft flesh as if to anchor it there. He needed no more encouragement. His fingers curled and kneaded, marveling at the fit of her in his hands.

Her eyes closed and a soft groan whispered from her lips. “I need you Ashel-veh. Finish it now.” She didn’t think she could stand any more of the exquisite torture he was serving her. Her hand curled around him, stroking the firm flesh, encouraging him to finish what he had started.

Jonathan’s eyes glittered at her touch. His free hand curled around hers and gently pulled it away from him. Drawing it to his mouth, he kissed her palm, his touch lightly tracing the lines of it. “Straddle me.”

Her breath caught at the thought. The way he was sitting, his knees would support her back, and her mouth would be in easy reach of his own, as would her breasts. Her body quickened even more at the thought. She moved eagerly to accommodate him.

His hands stopped her, and she studied him, confused for a moment. “Not that way, love. Pretend I’m your favorite chair.”

She blinked, uncertain, then allowed him to guide her into position. She gasped as he filled her, the angle and position taking him deeper somehow. He had raised both his knees, and she braced her hands against them as she slowly seated herself. As her bottom made contact with his groin, she released the breath she had been holding. She wasn’t certain she liked this position as she couldn’t see him, or kiss him, but as always when he showed her something new, she was willing to try. A sharp gasp was torn from her as his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against him. As he leaned back against the cushions, her thighs tightened at the unaccustomed angle, causing a twinge of pleasure straight to her center. They were curled together like a giant C. Her toes curled against her buttocks as his hands slid over her torso to her hips.

“Straighten your legs, Sweetheart. You’ll be more comfortable.” His teeth nibbled on her shoulder as he spoke, sending little shivers down her spine. One hand moved to her pelvis, applying a gentle pressure to keep them joined as he arched his hips. The movement served the dual purpose of lifting her slightly to help her move her legs, as well as to increase the friction and movement inside her. Her body clenched at the unexpectedness of it, and she groaned again at the sheer pleasure.

With her leaning back against his chest, and her legs now on either side of his, his penetration wasn’t as deep, but the angle and the pressure from it were new and quite compelling. She shifted a little, wiggling her bottom in an effort to encourage him to move.

He chuckled against her ear, nibbling on the edge of it. “Patience sweet, patience.” He used his legs to shift them up further against the pillows until they were in almost a sitting position. One hand played lazily with her right breast as the other continued a slight pressure on her pelvis, to hold her in place.

T’Pol was dazed. His breath whispered over her ear and shoulder, his body was solid and strong, under her, surrounding her. She glanced down, but could only see the pale expanse of her own body spilling over his. Her thighs sprawled over his, the sharp jut of his knees between her own enforcing the feeling of position. He was everywhere at once, in her and around her. As she watched, he shifted again, this time spreading his knees, forcing her thighs further apart. As they widened, her thigh muscles clenched. The pressure changed, increasing with an odd pulling sensation. This new position limited her ability to move even more. She felt almost like a puppet, at the whim of the man who held her strings. Her breath caught once more as Jonathan’s hand slid between her thighs. His fingers stroked over her, testing first the taut point where they were joined, before sliding teasingly over the swollen bundle of nerves. Her body arched at his touch and the breath sobbed out of her. Her hands clenched his forearms, nails digging in at each swipe of his fingers. She couldn’t stand it, but she never wanted it to end.

Jonathan was lost in a sensual cloud. Each moment they spent like this chipped at his control, but the feel of her against him, every move, every sensation amplified by their position, encouraged him to continue. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to own her in that moment, control everything, take her fiercely and imprint his stamp on her again and again in a maelstrom of possession. And yet, something bit at him, forcing him to draw out every touch, every move, until they were both a quivering mass. There was so much to them, so many places where they connected, so many feelings to share, it was hard to tell where she ended and he began. As she wiggled against his fingers, he shuddered. Her body was clenching around him with each stroke. He was helpless to resist. He pressed gently against her clit and arched up into her. Her gentle moan was enough to encourage him to do it again. His head tipped back in pleasure and as his eyes opened he stilled. As T’Pol growled, he nipped her shoulder. “Look up, love.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she did as he commanded. The mirror above the bed caught the glitter of light, but it also reflected back the erotic sprawl of limbs, the flushed, damp bodies joined together, the play of hands and fingers. The stillness lasted only a moment, and then he was moving again, drawing her in with an overload of stimulation. Nothing was sacred in the truth of the mirror, physical and emotional exposure, and the pure eroticism of it caused the ache in her body to spiral out of control. The feeling of being surrounded was reinforced. He was reflected in the mirror. His skin burned against her own. His taste was in her mouth and his scent in her nostrils. She tore her gaze from the enticing vision, eyes sliding over the room in an attempt to bring back some semblance of control, of self. It was a useless endeavor. Everything spoke of him and the spell he had woven around her. Never had she imagined she would be so willingly captured in such a situation. It was a silken web, one of desire, passion, and love, and it was woven so tightly around her. Compelled to glance back in the mirror, her eyes locked with Jonathan’s once more. Love, strong and sure, stared back at her; his gaze unwavering. It was then she realized he was as caught as she, and just as willing. That thought, that knowledge, spurred her, and she ground herself against his fingers. They tightened against her in response, and she did it again, her own hands sliding over his and joining them between her thighs. One hand pressed his more firmly against her, while the other pressed against the place they were joined. She felt the shudder run through him, and he jerked against her in response.

It was too much and not enough. Jonathan groaned, giving in to the storm that surrounded him, pulling him into its depths. He increased his pace once more, nearly bucking her off of him in his frenzy. His hands caught hers, fingers tangling. He drew them up over her midsection, anchoring her to him in a fierce hug. His breath panted, punctuated by little grunts at every thrust. Those sounds mimicked the ones echoing from her, and the rapid slap of their bodies in an odd little harmony of sound. As she tightened around him, his heart skipped a beat, then another, and then he was joining her, his body convulsing in time to his frantic heartbeat.

When his breath slowed and his heart settled, he kissed her ear. His voice was soft, reverent as he spoke. “Love, first and foremost… desire, hotter than any flame…friendship, to withstand the tests of time… and endless, bountiful possibilities… There is so much to us… I love you, T’Pol.”

Once more her eyes studied the mirror. She took in the relaxed sprawl of their bodies, hands still firmly entwined, bodies flowing together as if they were designed for one another. As her eyes met his, she nodded. “And I you, Jonathan.”

The brightness of his smile rivaled that of Vulcan’s sun.

Lesson 4?