My Sweet

by The Grrrl

Title: My Sweet

Author: The Grrrl

Author's email: thegrrrl2002@yahoo.com

Author's URL: http://www.geocities.com/coffeeslash/thegrrrl/

Archive: Ask first.

Fandom: Star Trek Enterprise

Feb 09, 2003

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Trip, Malcolm, chocolates, and cognac.

Author's notes: A Valentine's Day PWP. Utterly pointless. No redeeming qualities whatsoever. Very mild bondage. Abuse of perfectly good chocolate. General drunkenness. No beta.

Spoilers: 1.12 "Silent Enemy" (minor)

"For you, Malcolm." I hold the box out to him. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Valentine's Day?" Malcolm repeats vaguely, staring at the package in my hands. "Trip, you got me—oh—you got me chocolates. Rather nice chocolates," he adds, recognizing the brand. His face lights up with the sweetest smile I've ever seen. You'd think no one had ever given him chocolates before. Maybe no one has.

And these ain't just any ole chocolates. We're talking about the finest truffles ever made, rich and almost bittersweet, real heavy on the butterfat so they literally melt in your mouth. All packaged up nice and fancy with a red silk ribbon.

"Sweets for my sweet," I say. Yeah, it's silly, but I can't help myself. He finally takes the box from my hands, still looking as cute as can be.

"Oh, right," he scoffs. "I'm sweet now?" But he's still smiling as he comes to me, his lips meeting mine in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"You sure taste sweet," I tease after he releases me. I slip my hand under his shirt onto the small of his back, pulling him closer. "All of you. Sweet." I suck his earlobe, making him shiver.

"Ahhh." He leans in for more. I love the way he does that, like he can't get enough of my touch. "I'm far from sweet, and you know it."

"Now don't argue with your commanding officer."

He presses up against me. "So sorry, sir."

"At least that's a mighty fine salute you got there, Lieutenant." I place my hand over his growing erection, feeling it's heat through the soft, cotton pants.

Malcolm laughs as he rubs his cheek against mine. He takes a good look at package in his hand. "Is it really Valentine's Day? I hadn't realized it. But I believe I have something suitable for the occasion." He slips out of my grasp and heads to his closet, pokes around for a minute and comes out with two glasses and a bottle of cognac, looking mighty pleased with himself.

I'm mighty pleased, too. "Very suitable. Shapin' up like a real fine celebration. Though if we were back in San Francisco, we'd do it up right. I'd take you to the finest restaurant, wine and dine you. Show you off." I settle onto his neatly made-up bed, tossing my shoes off as I accept the glass of cognac. "Or maybe," I speculate, sipping the drink, "we'd get away for the weekend, to one of those resorts with a nice, big bed. And a Jacuzzi."

Malcolm sits on the bed next to me, scooting up close, his body warm against mine. "As lovely as that sounds, truth is just being here with you is celebration enough." He kisses me again.

"See!" I point my finger at him, "Sayin' stuff like that—you are sweet."

He makes an exasperated sound while he pulls the ribbon off the box and breaks the seal. As he opens it the heavenly smell of fine chocolate fills the air.

"Oooh, nice." Malcolm croons. He takes one, bites into it. "Mmmm," he sighs in appreciation, looking positively blissful. He finishes it, and licks his fingers. "These are marvelous. Thank you, Trip." He bites into another.

"Hey, it's nice to share, you know."

He holds the box out of my reach. "I don't recall that being part of the Valentine's Day tradition."

But before I can sulk at him he feeds me the other half of the truffle, and goddamn it is good. Not too sweet, actually, just rich, silky chocolate with a hint of bitterness. The kind of flavor that almost overwhelms your senses. "Mmmm—mmm."

He puts his arm around my waist and I lean against his chest, all nice and cozy. We sit like that for a spell, sipping our drinks, sharing chocolates, and talking about our day. Relaxing. Feeling the heat build. Truth is we just enjoy being together. There's no hurry, we have all night, because tomorrow we're both off-duty. I like listening to the sound of his voice, I like the feel of his chest against my back. I want to savor each moment the way he's savoring the chocolate.

But when Malcolm's lips brush against the side of my neck my heart starts beating faster. I stop in mid-sentence, forgetting completely what I was talking about. His arms come around my chest and he starts unbuttoning my shirt. He's still kissing my neck, finding that exact spot that makes me all tingly, right down to my toes. Before I know it I'm so hard my jeans feel tight. Still, my darling lieutenant takes his time as he slowly he releases each button, caressing and fussing over each bit of exposed skin as he goes along.

Despite my best efforts I can't help myself. Being together is even better when we're both naked. I gulp down the rest of my drink, toss my glass aside and help out with the unbuttoning. A huff of laughter caresses my ear.

"Patience has never been your strong suit, has it?"

"You're just figurin' this out?" I ask, somewhat breathlessly.

My shirt is finally open and he's stroking the length of my chest with his strong, hard hands. I love the feel of his hands on my skin. My head falls back on his shoulder and I reach my arms up and behind me to clasp his head. And now he has his fingers on my nipples, gently pinching and squeezing—for a moment there I think I'm going to come in my pants. He gets me going like that.

His fingers leave my nipples and move back down, pressing against my belly, then farther down to slide under my pants, tangling in my pubic hair. His body vibrates against my back as he chuckles, discovering there's nothing but me under my pants.

"Out of uniform, Commander?" he asks.

"Very—oh—funny, Malcolm." It's a running joke among the crew that my briefs are my true uniform, since it's all I've ended up wearing more times than I'd like to remember.

He unzips my pants, then leans his chin on my shoulder in order to look down my body. "You're so bloody beautiful, Trip," he murmurs, sweeping his hand up from my crotch all the way to my neck. He holds my chin, then gently turns my face so he can kiss me. We get lost in the kiss, our tongues tangled together, our bodies moving, rearranging, and next thing I know I'm flat on my back with Malcolm over me. Not like that's anything new.

Things pick up from there. His shirt comes off, my pants are pushed down, his mouth, lips and tongue start wandering all over my body. And teeth get involved too. He's nipping my chest, and damn if it don't feel good. I don't think there's anything Malcolm could do to me that didn't feel good, not when he gets my blood pumping like this. I'm squirming, clutching at the sheets, getting them tangled and twisted beneath me.

Then it all comes to a stop and he climbs off the bed. My eyes fly open. "What? Whereya goin'?"

But he's only taking the rest of his clothes off and tossing them aside.

He looks me over, his eyes dark. "Look at you—shirtless, your pants pulled down, your cock dripping like that. You are a wet dream come true."

I'm pleased, little embarrassed and extremely turned on. "It's all your doin'. An' you don't look so bad yourself." I like the way his flushed cock looks against his black pubic hair. And his body is just beautiful, especially naked and all aroused like that. "You gonna get your pretty little butt back in bed with me, or just admire me from a distance?" I ask as I kick my pants off.

He pretends to think it over. I throw a pillow at him. "Just need a few items," he laughs as gets the lube from the bedside table. Then pours himself more cognac. "Your glass?" he asks, holding the bottle up.

I find my glass hidden under the sheets and hold it up triumphantly. I get a refill, and a chocolatey kiss as he gets back into bed. "Mmmm, chocolate-flavored Malcolm." It goes good with a swallow of the warm, smoky liquor and the feel of Malcolm's skin under my hand. His thighs are slender but so powerful, especially when they are wrapped around me.

He feeds me a truffle, sliding it past my lips to rest on my tongue as my hand finds it's way to his cock. I let the treat melt in my mouth as I grip the shaft in my fist. It's hard, and I can feel blood pulsing through the big vein that runs underneath. He grunts and it slips away, out of reach as Malcolm moves down my body, his tongue leaving a wet trail behind. I know where's he's heading and it makes me quiver with anticipation. But he skips right over my cock goes straight to my balls. I pull my knees to my chest to give him more room to work.

"Oh god Malcolm, Malcolm—that is so fuckin' good." And it is. I feel like I'm ready to explode and he hasn't even touched my cock.

"Such language." I hear the snap of the lube opening up. Oh yeah baby. I'm trembling, and my stomach is fluttering so much I feel like I can't even breathe. His fingers touch my anus, feeling wet and cold and I hiss with pleasure. He presses, and I let him in, nice and easy. My feet slid down to the mattress so I can brace myself against his hand. I can hear him moan as he touches me, his breath is warm against my thigh, his fingers are sliding in and out—he's making me feel so good, giving me such pleasure, and he's moaning because he's having so much fun. That's how sweet he is.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I peer down and see him nuzzling my thigh. He catches me looking and smiles. "You're truly amazing, Trip—the way you move when I touch you—" He moves his head forward and takes my swollen cock into his mouth.

I fall back onto the pillow and grab the bed railing behind me for support, because my world is spinning and he's touching so deep inside of me and his mouth is hot and wet and I think I'm reaching another level of consciousness here. I thrust up into his mouth, then down onto his probing fingers, and I'm trapped, completely helpless because whichever way I move brings almost agonizing pleasure.

"Oh, oh—Malcolm—I'm gonna—"

And I do. I come hard, my hips lifting off the bed, pulsing into Malcolm's wonderful mouth again and again. When it's finally over I'm all limp and just about melted into the bed, feeling real good. Malcolm gives my cock one last lick, which makes me shudder, then kisses my hip.

I'm still trying to catch my breath and get a hold of myself when he slips his hands under my knees and lifts my legs to his shoulders. "May I?" he asks, rubbing his cheek against my leg.

It's so sweet that he asks. "Permission granted." I say, as seriously as I can. Which isn't very serious at all considering how giddy I feel.

He thrusts into me with one smooth move and we both groan. It's so good when he fucks me right after I come. Makes me feel completely his. Filled with his cock and pinned right to the bed.

"Beautiful." He opens his eyes, and I can see the wonder of what he's doing shining through. "I could stay like this forever."

"Works for me, darlin'." I move my legs from his shoulder to his waist, hooking my ankles around his back. I like the feel of his body between my legs.

Malcolm finds a pillow to tuck under my butt, then brings himself down to lay on me, stretching forward to give me a kiss. Now we are face to face, real comfy and close. He reaches for something, I can't see what even though I tilt my head back as far as it will go. Ah. His glass. He sips the rich, amber liquid, and closes his eyes. I him twitch inside of me, so I tighten my legs around his waist and clench my muscles around his dick while he takes another sip. He nearly spits it out at me.

"Hell, Trip, warn me before you do that!"

"Now where's the fun in that? Gimme some."

He sips again, then bends down and places his lips on mine. I open my mouth and allow the fluid to flow in. I swallow, then lick his mouth. I taste cognac, Malcolm, and come.

Malcolm takes another swallow for himself, then another for me. We continue until the glass is empty, sharing the drink with slow, soulful kisses. I'm enjoying the gentle burn of the drink mingled with Malcolm's tongue, while his warm, throbbing cock is tucked away deep inside of me, stretching me tight. I feel heat everywhere, flowing from my mouth, to my stomach, in my groin and in my ass.

Malcolm's not done yet, he's hitting the chocolates again. He takes a bite, moans ecstatically, and then feeds me the rest. It's so good, I have to move under him, giving him a little shove with my hips. More chocolate. More moaning. More writhing. I'm hard again, my cock real happy to be rubbing up against Malcolm's stomach.

Malcolm pushes himself away from the mattress, shaking a little, still trying to stay in control. He eyes my erect penis. "Oh, now isn't this lovely?" he whispers, running his fingers down my body straight to my dick, which twitches at the attention. "A present, just for me." He smiles, and I realize he's getting a bit tipsy. "Hmmm, where's—ah."

He has the ribbon in his hands. "Maaaaalcolm," I say slowly, then freeze as I feel something feather-soft against my balls, moving them, then tightening. Pressure all around. "What are you doing?" I gasp out.

"There. All wrapped up." He grins at me, real pleased with himself.

I look down, and sure enough he's got the red ribbon wrapped around the base of my balls, pulling them up against my dick then wrapped around my dick and tied in a right pretty bow. It's tight. It hurts just a little, having my balls pulled snug like that. Feels kind of hot, too. In a weird kind of way.

"Oh god." Damn, I just love the things he does to me.

"Oh yes," Malcolm says, his voice low and raspy. He thrusts into me, twisting his hips and I yelp as he goes in deep, hitting just the right spot. I see stars. Hell, I see a whole galaxy. He plunges in again and again, grunting with each thrust, his fingers gripping my thighs so hard I know he's going to leave marks.

I think I'm losing my mind. The ribbon is chafing, just enough to make my balls feel like they're going to explode. It's so fucking perfect. Malcolm's moaning, mouth open, his breath coming in little sobs the way he does when he's about to come. I'm close too, but I don't think I can get there, it's the ribbon—I need him to touch me—I need—

"Harder—Malcolm. More. Gimme more—please Malcolm—do it harder—" I reach for my cock, and he snatches my hand away.

"Not. Yet," he growls between clenched teeth.

He yanks my hips, pulling me closer, and pounds me even harder. I can't even talk anymore, I'm just whimpering, can't anymore words. I'm going to feel this tomorrow—right now it's so good, like he's touching my soul—just what I need—I'm close, I'm so close—I—

"Now." Malcolm tugs one end of the ribbon, releasing it. I come immediately, yelling loud enough for them to hear me on A deck, spattering onto my chest with long, hot spurts that go on and on forever.

Whoa. I'm completely spent. I blink the sweat out of my eyes to see Malcolm with his head hanging down, nice and sweaty, too, and breathing hard. He raises his head, and our eyes meet. He gives me a great big smug smile. I realize we must have climaxed at the same time.

"Now that was sweet," I tell him.

***

"Mmmm," Malcolm groans.

"Mmmm." I answer. Malcolm's back is against the wall, and I'm practically in his lap, straddling his thighs as I feed him. His arms are wrapped around my waist, hands clasped behind my back. He's got his eyes closed, looking utterly content. I slip another bit of truffle between his lips.

His lips. They fascinate me. Always have. I watch them move as he delicately takes the bit of chocolate from my fingers, watch as they curl up sweetly. So expressive. I can always tell his mood by his lips. I've seen them pulled into an unpleasant smirk, and I've seen them in a firm, straight line of disapproval. I've seen the sneer, and the grimace of pain. I don't like that one, no, not one bit. I've also witnessed a whole range of smiles. From that little sly one where you just don't quite know what he's thinking, to the dirty kind of smile that's only for me. The one that hints at all the nasty things he's going to do me, and still have me hollering for more.

Now his mouth looks expectant, waiting for more chocolate. But he's not getting any. I want his lips. So I press my mouth against his, but I'm not really kissing him. Just feeling his lips against mine. Feeling how soft they are, even though they look like they should be hard and stiff. 'Specially when he's on duty. Being the lieutenant. But here he's my Malcolm, and his lips are soft.

Now they're moving against my mouth. "Mfff- what are you doing?" He sounds kind of muffled.

"Feeling," I say against his mouth.

"Hmm." He licks his lips, and mine too. "How does it feel?"

"Nice. Real nice."

He chuckles, and his lips pull back in a smile. Now they don't feel quite so soft but I like the smile. Not that I can see it up this close.

"More chocolate, please."

He asks so nice, but he's not getting any just yet. Because I have a great idea. I scoot off his lap, and hunt for the ribbon.

"That's not where the chocolate is," Malcolm points out helpfully.

"I know." I see my glass and it's full of cognac so I drink it. What was I looking for? Oh, the ribbon. It's on the floor, a splash of bright shiny red against the gray rug. I grab it and dive back into the bed.

"Oh hell, Trip." The way I've bounded the mattress and made Malcolm spill his drink. I take the glass from him.

"Gimme your hands," I demand.

He puts his hands out and I wind the ribbon over his wrists, binding them together. Since I'm sitting between his legs I can clearly see his cock showing signs of interest. He's into it, but I still ask, "This okay?"

"Oh yes." Malcolm answers me eagerly.

"Now lay on your stomach."

"Right away, sir." He tries to give me a little salute but his hands are, well, tied. He flops onto his stomach and I pull his arms up over his head, and secure them to the bedframe. I get a little jumbled up with the knot. I'm certainly no Eagle Scout. And while I'm trying to make a decent knot he moans and squirms, which is real fun to watch, and very distracting.

Finally it's done, he's all secure and can't pull lose. "There now, darlin'. How's that feel?"

I admire my handiwork—he looks just gorgeous. And kind of, well, I suppose debauched would be the word for it, the way he's tied to the wrecked bed, sheets all twisted up, smudged with chocolate, come and cognac. His hair's all rumpled and messy, curling this way and that. That red ribbon shows up real nice against his pale skin. He's resting his head on his upper arms, his pretty blue eyes watching me as I watch him.

"Feels," he thinks for a moment, then starts again. "Feels like you could do anything you like to me."

I can tell by the sultry tone of his voice that he's very okay with the concept. I lean down. "You betcha."

I run my fingers lightly along his arms. He's mine, all mine. His arms, with such fine muscles and just a sprinkling of silky hair on them. His sweet shoulders, not real broad but so much stronger than you might think. And his back, which slopes real nice as it leads to the swell of his ass, his lovely, delicious ass—mine, all mine. Just perfect. I lick his back, listening to him sigh with pleasure. I run my tongue up and down, across his shoulder blades, then down his spine, back up again—love the feel of his skin under my tongue, feeling his muscles move underneath.

But enough of his back. There's that perfect ass. I crawl over to settle between his legs, resting my hands on his cheeks. Nice and round, just a few little curlicues of hair decorating them. And his delicate little opening, hidden right between them. "Damn Malcolm, what a gorgeous ass."

He groans in response. I begin caressing him, marveling in the feel of his flesh under my hands, eventually working my thumbs between his cheeks. He makes a little more noise. "Like that?" I ask, even thought it's pretty obvious he does.

"Ughn." He answers with a sigh.

"I'll take that as a yes." I press my fingers against that area of skin between his anus and his balls, and he responds sharply—nearly yelling as he pushes back against my hands. I massage that area for a bit, admiring how his body moves, the muscles working as he shifts and shimmies. Tugs at the ribbon binding his hands.

Then I get another idea.

"Malcolm, toss those chocolates over here. Oh, wait, never mind, you can't." I snort. "Yer all tied up at the moment."

He groans more loudly, shaking his head. I don't think that one was due to pleasure. I get up, trying not to knee him in any delicate areas, and get the half-empty box of chocolates myself. Then I get back into position.

I pick up a truffle. This one has coconut mixed in. Not a good choice, so I eat that one right away. The next one is kind of fudgy. I squish it between my fingers, watching the dark filling ooze out. Perfect. I smear it right down between the cheeks of his ass.

He nearly comes off the bed with a shout. I guess he liked that, too. I spread his cheeks and dip my tongue into his cleft. Oh lordy this is good, chocolate with a taste of Malcolm, just delicious together. It's a bit of work holding him still, though.

I get to work licking the chocolate off. Nice little licks, all the way down to his balls, then back up again, all to the sound of my darling's groaning and cussing. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed chocolate so much. Maybe the cap'n will put this on the menu.

"Trip—damn—oh Trip—Trip—"

"That's my name, don't wear it out," I tell him. Almost done, now working on the delicate area around his anus, getting my tongue inside of him, feeling the way his muscles spasm and tighten when in response.

"Fuck. Trip, fuck me. Do it, oh hell that's good—" he groans.

And so on. My goodness I've near heard Malcolm talk a blue streak like that. I finish licking, and wipe my chin with the back of my hand.

"C'mon, Trip, fuck me now—"

"Nope," I answer.

"God damn you Trip, fuck me now." he demands, louder this time. And a little slurred.

Pushy little bastard. I crawl back up to the head of the bed, knocking the chocolate box, causing the little tissue paper cups to float out. "Can't," I say, pointing down to my cock, soft and sleepy, nestled against my curls. "I ain't no eighteen year old boy, might I remind ya."

He lifts his head and looks me over carefully. "More's the pity."

I slap his ass, hard. "That's not nice."

"Ouch. Told you I wasn't sweet."

"Yes, you did. An' I believe you now."

"Well if you're not going to fuck me then I want more chocolate. In the proper orifice, this time."

I'm snorting with laughter as I grab the chocolates. Somehow I slide off the bed to the floor. I meant to do that, I'm pretty sure. So I kneel there, resting my chin on my arms as I feed him. "So damn demandin'. What happen to that quiet, subdued officer, the one where it took half the crew to find out what his favorite food was?"

"That's not the sort of information I part with freely."

"Yeah." I'm touching myself, thinking about that incident, remembering the sweet smile on his lips as he discovered that his birthday cake had pineapple in it. "And you were real pain in the ass, re-routin' that power grid without tellin' me."

He knows exactly what I'm talking about. "You were so bloody sexy," he tells me with a gleam in his eye, "yelling at me like that, all sweaty and worked up." He gets an even naughtier look on his face. "I just wanted you to throw me over the nearest phase cannon and fuck the daylights out of me."

"Now how about that. I wanted t' do the same exact thing." I feed him another truffle, and he sucks my finger into his mouth. I feel the tip of his tongue flick over it, then he bites down gently, sucking harder. Meanwhile I'm working my hand over my cock, which is starting to perk up. I'll be damned.

I climb back onto the bed, taking a bite out of another truffle. I scoop out the creamy filling—butterscotch, I think—with a finger and spread it on my cock. Feels plenty nice and sticky.

"Oh, now Trip. Bring that right over here."

It takes some maneuvering but eventually we end up with my dick in Malcolm's mouth. I have to use my hand to guide it and soon he's sucking on my fingers and my cock. By time the chocolate is gone my legs are getting sore but damn, my cock is rock-hard.

"Malcolm." I plop down on my ass. "Think I'm ready now."

"About blasted time." Malcolm retorts.

"Yer so nasty." I love it. "Nasty in a sweet kinda way," I clarify.

Pretty soon I've got a couple of slick fingers in Malcolm's ass, and he's moving impatiently against my hand. "I'm ready, just do it, damn you," he growls.

"I'll tell ya when you're ready," I say, shoving my fingers in deep.

Malcolm howls and jerks against his restraints. "Do it. Do it now," he gasps. "Trip. Now."

It occurs to me that he's the one tied up, yet he's still demanding this and that. So typical of him. I get up close to his ear and whisper, "Ask nice, and maybe I will, you nasty thing you." I wiggle my fingers in him and get a right nice response in return.

"Pleasepleaseplease—Trip—love—please—"

He's gasping out the words, frantically now, squirming around. It's really giving me a rush, having Malcolm all fired up and begging like this. I'd like to drag this out some more, see how wild he can get, but my cock is just aching to be inside of him.

I lube myself up and, after a moment of thought, pull on Malcolm and position him so he's on his knees. I can hang onto him better like this. He's whimpering, in position with his ass right there waiting for me. I get between his legs, nudging them further apart. My sweet, nasty, helpless Malcolm. I've got to be the luckiest guy in the universe, to have this.

I guide my cock in with one hand, my other hanging onto a sharp hipbone. He lets out a long, guttural moan and then I'm in, I'm sliding all the way in. And oh god he's like silk on the inside, like hot, wet silk.

"Damn, Malcolm. You're mine, you hear me? You belong to me." I run my hands over him, claiming him. "Gotta remember that, 'cause I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't remember yer name."

Of course, at the first stroke it feels so good my head starts to spin, and I worry that it's an idle threat, because it's gonna be all over way too quickly. But I get a grip on myself, probably because I've come twice already. Between that and the booze I'm pretty amazed I'm even hard again. But, hey, this is Malcolm.

My sweet Malcolm. "Stop with that damn sweet crap, for god's sake," Malcolm shouts.

I burst out laughing, because I didn't realize I said that out loud.

"And get moving, damn you!"

"Oh, sorry darlin'—" I didn't realize I had stopped, either.

I get moving again, as requested. Soon I've got a death grip on his hips and I'm doing him hard and fast. My body is just soaring, like I'm floating through space or something. But still I'm aware of Malcolm, on his knees before me, his hands gripping the bedframe so he can push back against me. He's babbling again, something about how beautiful my cock is, how good it feels, how perfectly we fit—I'm not sure, I can't hear him above the roaring in my ears. Oh baby, this is so perfect, just right—finally I reach around him to take his cock in my greased hand. He comes as soon as I give him a squeeze, his body stiffening then wracked with spasms as he comes and comes and oh ain't that just grand the way his ass is tightening around me, squeezing me now oh my sweet oh—

I come for the third time tonight and it's like my whole body is trying to climb up his ass. I don't have nothing left in me and it hurts some but I've never felt anything like this before. When I'm done I just collapse onto my darling, and his knees slide out from under him and I got him flat on the bed. I feel like I got run over by a shuttlepod.

"Urgh," says Malcolm, when he can finally speak. "Right onto the wet spot. Thanks very much. Ow!"

I bit his neck for being so fresh with me. Then I rest my cheek on his back, while my aching cock slowly gets soft and slips out of him. "Love you too, sweetie."

He growls something about blue-eyed southern boys and I can make out the words "nothing but trouble".

I'm flattered. "Not as much trouble as snooty brits can be," I point out to him as I reach for my glass, which is just up there on the table. I forget completely that I got lube on my hand, so when the glass is about halfway to my mouth it slips from my fingers and bounces off Malcolm's back. The thump as it hits Malcolm's back makes me wince.

"Trip!"

"Sorry, Malcolm." I lick some of it off his back, but most of it flows right onto the bed. "Made another wet spot, I guess."

He starts shaking beneath me. I slide off to one side and I realize he's laughing. His eyes meet mine and they're bright with love and affection. "Trip, you're the best thing that ever happened to me, do you know that?"

I'm melting all over again and have to kiss him. "I know now, darlin'." I start snuggling in close.

"Er, Trip?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Think you could untie me?"

Turns out I can't. Damn knots are pulled too tight. So I get up and find the scissors, and Malcolm while cringes with terror I manage to snip the ribbon and get it off his wrists. The ribbon made red marks on his skin and so I kiss it and make it better. Then I hug him, pulling his warm, solid body halfway over my chest.

"We should shower," Malcolm murmurs against my chest. "And change the sheets."

"Good idea." I hold him tighter, moving my hand up to play with his hair, letting his sweat-soaked curls wrap around my fingers.

A moment later he asks, "But we're not going to, are we?"

I drag a sheet over us. It smells like chocolate, cognac and Malcolm.

"I don' think so." I kiss his hair. "G'night, m' darlin' Valentine."

"Goodnight, my sweet."

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