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Author’s note: My friend Lila challenged me to write a story that
wasn’t a “Blood Fever” alternate scenario, but was romantic. So here it
is.

Warning: This story is emotional, sentimental and introspective. If
you don’t like mushy, romantic fanfic, go elsewhere. And oh yeah. It’s
past midnite, class is at 8 am and Krissy’s had too much sugar. Does
that say anything? Yup--it’s NC-17. No under 18’s allowed. Parents,
the warning’s right here.

Dedication: To Lila, because her challenge inspired me in the first
place.

Wedding Night
by Krissy Shelley


A nervous B’Elanna Torres looked into the mirror, trying to find her
confidence. A confused, fearful half-Klingon stared back.
*No, it’s B’Elanna Paris now*, she thought. Today had been her
wedding. And between the vows and the dancing, the toasts and the
cake-cutting, the congratulations and teasing remarks, she had almost
forgotten about tonight.
And now here she was, in their new quarters, wearing the nightgown that
had been Sue Nicoletti’s present for her, and Tom would soon be here.
And she was a nervous wreck.
She couldn’t believe it.
Sue had insisted she open the box, then had left, saying she would send
Tom in in about a half-hour. Now B’Elanna was even more nervous.
Slipping the peignoir on over the nightgown, she went into the bathroom
and nervously began to brush her hair.
All too soon, she heard the main door open and close, then Tom’s
footsteps and his voice.
“B’Elanna?”
“I’m in here,” she said, trying to keep the ridiculous tremble out of
her voice. “Just brushing my hair out.”
A pause, then “All right. I’ll wait out here for you.”
She heard him began to whistle softly and it increased her anxiety.
She wanted to hide.
*Don’t be ridiculous, B’Elanna! You’re going out there to face him
'and you’re not going to be afraid'.*
Forcing herself to put the brush down, she tapped the switch to turn
out the lights and moved into the bedroom, the nightgown and peignoir
floating around her like a gossamer cloud.
The lights were off, but Tom had arranged four small candles in glass
jars on a low shelf and turned the bed down. He had been looking out
the viewport, but turned at the sound of her approaching.
“B’Elanna,” he breathed in awe. Slowly, he moved toward her. “You
look so lovely.” Reaching for one hand, he brought it to his lips.
Unable to meet his penetrating cerulean eyes, she lowered her gaze.
With his free hand, he reached up, cupping her chin and tilting her
face up. Once again, she met his gaze.
“’Lanna, my beautiful be’nal, I love you. Tonight is our night. I
want nothing more than to make it special for you.”
He pulled her into his arms, his hands caressing her back, then he slid
the peignoir over his shoulders. She dropped her arms, allowing it to
slide off. He lifted her carefully and set her down on their bed.
Bending down, he touched his lips to hers in a soft, sweet kiss. She
returned it, her arms wrapping around him. His hands moved to her
shoulders once more, this time sliding the straps of her nightgown down
her arms and then completely off. Her panties soon followed.
Lying naked before him, B’Elanna couldn’t help the tremble that went
through her as his aroused gaze roamed her body. She had never had a
man look at her this way before.
His lips met hers once again, tender yet passionate. His fingers
trailed along her sides, up and down twice before he broke the kiss. He
stripped off his shirt and slacks, then went back to her.
His hands moved to cup her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples,
causing them to swell into taut peaks. B’Elanna’s eyes fluttered closed
and she gasped softly. Leaning down, he caught one in his mouth and
began to tease it lightly. Her head fell back and she let out a ragged
moan. After a minute or two, he moved to the other one, giving it the
same treatment.
Continuing onward, he trailed a warm path of kisses down her stomach,
then back up and then down again.
His hands moved to her knees, parting them as he settled himself
between her thighs. His fingertips lightly brushed her inner thighs,
then moved to the sensitive skin between. She whimpered as he pressed
against the soft, swollen center of her passion, then moaned when he
slid a finger inside her, followed by a second. He began to move them
in and out slowly, elicting another moan and her legs parted further.
Taking his hand away, he cupped her hips, then leaned down.
B’Elanna moaned in surprise when his tongue began to caress her
intimate flesh. Instinctively, she reached for down to clutch his hair.
Her head rocked from side to side, moans increasing in intensity as the
torrent rose higher and higher.
“Don’t stop,” she whimpered.
But he did, rising up, kissing her stomach, her breasts, her face.
Then his hands slid under her shoulders, cradling her. He looked down
into her passion-glazed eyes and a wave of tenderness swept over him.
“*Be’nalwI’*,” he whispered just before entering her.
She felt him inside her and the sensation stole her breath away. Her
arms moved up to hold him as he braced himself above her and began to
slowly move within her.
It was like nothing she had ever felt before. Strong, powerful
thrusts, deep inside of her, the tremble that shook her with each of
those thrusts. His lips met hers in a fiery kiss as they climbed toward
the peak.
Without any warning, the tremble became an intense, raging force that
suddenly tore through her, ripping a scream from her throat.
“Tom--Tom--*ohhh*!”
“Oh, B’Elanna, yes--like that--‘Lanna!”
She felt him explode inside her and the feeling brought her to climax
again. Hips writhing, head tossing, she gave in to the most intense
pleasure she’d ever experienced.
As she slowly descended from the peak, he collapsed on top of her,
pressing his face into her shoulder. She continued to tremble as small
aftershocks shimmered through her. As the shocks faded, lassitude
slowly swept over her. She tried to keep her eyes open, but failed.
Closing them, she resigned herself to sleep.

*

B’Elanna slowly opened her eyes. She didn’t know why, but she thought
someone was watching her. Turning her head, she saw a fully awake Tom,
propped up on one elbow beside her.
“Morning,” he said softly.
“Hi,” she whispered, suddenly feeling ridiculously shy again. Noticing
that the covers had fallen to her waist, she reached for them. But he
stopped her.
“Don’t hide yourself from me, B’Elanna. Let me look at your beauty.”
“I’m not--“ she began, but he placed a gentle hand over her mouth.
“Not one word. Don’t you dare say you’re not beautiful.” His tone was
firm, but gentle, as his loving gaze swept over her. Then he leaned
down, his lips coming down upon hers as his hands began to caress her.
Slowly, he entered her, her cry muffled by the pressure of his lips.
After a few strokes, he stilled, then rolled them over so she was on
top. She looked down at him, puzzled, until he took her hips in his
hands and guided her to move up and down. Eventually, she caught the
rhythm and as she did, he left one hand on her hip and gently stroked
her bottom with the other.
B’Elanna closed her eyes, rocking slowly, feeling the intensity build
each time she came down. Then, without warning, the first wave began.
“Oh--oh--oh gods--Tom, it’s happening again!--oh
gods--Tom--Tom--*Tom*!”
Tom pulled her down to lie atop him, thrusting up one final time,
hearing her scream as she came, the sound piercingly sweet. Then,
trembling violently, she fell against him, limp.
After several minutes needed to gather his bearings, he cupped her
cheek in his hand. “Are you all right, ‘Lanna?”
“Yes, I’m all right.”
He pressed his lips to the slight ridges on her brow. “I love you,
B’Elanna, my be’nal.”
“I love you, too, loDnal.”


Legal nonsense. P/T are owned lock, stock and barrel by Paramount
(shudder), but the story belongs to me. Feedback is a good thing. Send
your comments to [email protected]



    

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