Karis frowned and opened her eyes, trying to clear her head. Dukat caught her chin in his hand, and tilted her face up to meet his. As he lowered his head toward hers, Karis flinched. He paused for only a few seconds before his lips brushed across her cheek, seeking her ear. "I suggest," he breathed, "that we start with dinner."

Karis collapsed, weak-kneed, against the wall as Dukat sauntered to a small table and began lifting the covers from platters and bowls. "I ordered my housekeeper to prepare several Bajoran dishes. Let’s see what she came up with." He peered at the contents of a platter, then held it up for Karis’s assessment. "What is this? Veklivar?"

Karis tore her attention from Dukat’s face to the food. "I don’t know," she faltered. "I don’t recognize it."

He continued his perusal of the meal. "This is moba fruit," he said with assurance, touching a small dish. His hand paused at a heavy tureen. Cautiously, he stirred a thick, greenish ragout. He glanced at Karis for enlightenment, but again, she shook her head.

"It appears that this will be a culinary voyage of discovery for us both." Dukat smiled, and gestured for Karis to take a seat at the table.

Karis sat in silence, her head reeling, as she adjusted to Dukat’s abrupt transformation from seductive conqueror to affable host. She found herself unable to look away from his hands as they moved deftly across the table, pouring wine, carving meat, ladling stew.

Their earlier discussion had focused on the abstract meanings of power; she perceived now the more elemental and concrete significance of the word. Power was defined by the strength of those hands as they closed menacingly on her skull, and as they traced the line of her collarbone. Karis inhaled sharply, remembering the sensation that touch had evoked. Her skin, suddenly exquisitely sensitive, had burned beneath the slow and gentle caress of those fingers. Life or death, pleasure or pain, the power to dispense these resided in his strong hands.

"Power and fear are a balance." The old Bajoran proverb came suddenly to mind. Despite Dukat’s protestations to the contrary, the power here belonged to him, while she had been swept along by a tide of fear. That fear was misplaced, she now understood. Karis didn’t doubt that Dukat’s reputation for harshness was well deserved, a testament to what he was willing to do in the name of duty. But free from the shackles of his obligation to the state, Dukat was less terrifying than she expected. He would not compel her to stay if she chose to leave. And although he clearly would suffer no insults or disrespect, Karis saw no evidence of the casual cruelty she had feared.

She was less afraid of the almighty Cardassian Prefect than she was of the private man, the Dukat whose touch threatened to erode her self-control. This fear had driven her earlier outburst, Karis realized with a start. Righteous wrath played no part in her behavior, however justified such an emotion might be. "Power and fear are a balance." What does this mean here and now? Perhaps it meant that she should put aside her fear, just as Dukat had set aside his power to impose his will on her.

Karis inhaled deeply as a sudden resolution filled her. She rose abruptly to her feet, spilling her napkin from her lap. Dukat leaned back in his chair, but said nothing as she approached him. "This would almost be easier if you were what I’d imagined," she explained without preamble, "if you were some distant, pitiless autocrat."

Dukat pondered her meaning. "You’re surprised that I’m a man and not some unfathomable monster," he concluded. She nodded. "Karis, why would this be easier if I were such a monster?"

"A monster," she hesitated, collecting her thoughts, "a monster might frighten me, but he could never really threaten to undermine my sense of self."

He frowned, perplexed. "What are you afraid of?"

"I’m afraid of the way I feel when you touch me!" she confessed. "If you were a monster I’d feel repulsed, or feel nothing at all. But when you touch me, I know that I could completely lose myself."

If her disclosure caused him to gloat, Dukat’s expression revealed nothing of it. "And why does the prospect of losing control frighten you?" he asked gently.

Nothing in his voice or manner carried any hint of intimidation, but Karis felt herself under the scrutiny of an inquisitor, a man who could glean the truth from any attempt at dissimulation. She considered his question, carefully seeking the words to describe a fear whose existence she had only now recognized. "If I can’t control my reaction to you, if I relinquish everything to you, then I’ll be empty and invisible, more of a ghost than I am now."

"A ghost?" Dukat repeated, clearly baffled by both the image and the logic of her explanation. "Why do you call yourself a ghost?"

This was a dangerous subject, but if she were to answer him honestly Karis could not avoid it. "My father works under Cardassian patronage. Our neighborhood is protected by Cardassian soldiers," she reluctantly responded. "I live in an artificially safe and comfortable cocoon, but most of my people hate me as much as they hate you. They rarely say anything to me when I’m out, they don’t acknowledge that I’m there. They look right through me as if I were a ghost."

Dukat nodded. "Your people have a gift for self-righteousness," he observed. He glanced at the floor for a moment before returning his gaze to her face. "Karis, I have some experience in these matters, so let me assure you that you can’t lose yourself by yielding to your desires. If anything, you might find yourself. If you cling to rigid self-control you only cheat yourself, deny yourself pleasure and intimacy. That kind of self-denial would diminish you as a person, but indulging your own most fundamental instincts cannot."

She considered his words for a long moment. "I hope you’re right," Karis said at last, "because I intend to find out, and I want to find out with you." Trembling, but not tentative, her hand reached out slowly to Dukat’s face. Her fingers examined the ridge that curved across his brow and around his eye, accustoming themselves to the leathery texture and cooler temperature of his alien skin. She brushed her fingers gently across his lips. These, at least, felt softer, more familiar. Familiar too was the expression she saw growing in his eyes. Jarrell had looked at her like that when desire subsumed all his more tender emotions. Startled by the intrusive memory of her dead fiancé, Karis pulled back her hand and stared, stricken, at Dukat’s face.

He sensed her change of mood. "Are you having second thoughts about your deal with the devil?"

Karis frowned in confusion, snapped out of her reverie by the irritation in Dukat’s voice. "No, I haven’t changed my mind…It’s just that I’ve never slept with a man I didn’t love."

Impatience fled and a sudden understanding filled his eyes. "I see," he responded gravely. "Despite all the prohibitions from the champions of moral rectitude, you will find Karis, that sex, even without love, has much to recommend it."

Karis smiled and shook her head. "You’re very sure of yourself."

"No," he argued, returning her smile as he rose to his feet, "I’m very sure of us."

Dukat’s smile lingered as he turned to face Karis, his ease and confidence in sharp contrast to her own awkward uncertainty. Unexpectedly clumsy, unsure what to do with her hands, Karis felt betrayed by a body out of sync with her will. She wanted to demonstrate her good faith by seizing the initiative, unfortunately, the confidence and knowledge necessary to do so eluded her. Determined to do something to shake off this anxious paralysis, Karis placed a hand on his body armor. "This," she said, tapping its rough and unforgiving surface, "is a definite impediment to any intimacy."

"It wasn’t designed with this sort of encounter in mind," he agreed, reaching to remove it.

"Let me do that," Karis suggested. Dukat guided her hand to the buckle, then allowed her fingers to work the mechanism which released his armor. A tug and it slid into her hands, its weight a surprise that threatened to throw her off balance. She glanced at his face. "How can you walk wearing this?"

"Cardassians are a tough lot," he answered soberly, then grinned. "Although sometimes at the end of a long day, I swear that I’ve shrunk an inch."

She matched his grin with one of her own, turned, and just managed to set the heavy cuirass on a nearby chair. Karis faced him again, the smile fading from her face. The removal of the body armor rendered him much more approachable. Karis paused for just an instant before she reached out again, and ran her hand across the dark, supple fabric of his shirt.

"Much better," she murmured, feeling the muscles of his chest slide beneath her questing fingers. Her hand wandered to his shoulder then followed the path of the prominent ridge that mounted his neck, her thumb tracing the outline of each segment. The ridge arching sinuously over his eyes beckoned next, and Karis ran her fingers lightly over its raised surface. Indulging a long-standing curiosity about Cardassian physiognomy, she closed her eyes and committed to memory its texture and resilience. Upon opening her eyes, Karis felt Dukat’s gaze on her face, and she self-consciously pulled back her hand.

"I’m sorry," she blushed, suddenly aware that her inquisitive poking and prodding of his alien features might seem an impertinent affront.

Dukat reached for her hand and raised it again to his face. "It’s all right. It’s perfectly natural to be curious about our differences." He stood motionless while Karis continued her exploration of his body, allowing her time to establish a level of comfort with their initial intimacy. Her finger played along the rim of the teardrop shaped protrusion on his brow, then slipped into its concave interior and etched a series of slow circles. Splaying her hand across his brow, Karis trailed her fingers down Dukat’s face, skimming eyes, nose, mouth, and chin on their trek back to his torso.

Her hands slipped to his waist. Karis tugged on his shirt. "Another impediment, I’m afraid. Can this go the way of the body armor?" Silently, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on top of his discarded armor. "Better," Karis said again. Without hesitation, she stepped closer to him and slid her hands up his trunk.

Where hands led the way, face and mouth followed. Karis grazed his shoulder with her cheek, luxuriating in the sensation of flesh meeting flesh, the soft velvet of her skin caressing the coriaceous brawn of his chest. Beneath her palm, Dukat’s heart beat a strong, steady, reassuring rhythm. Karis inhaled slowly as her tongue darted from her mouth, the tip flicking back and forth as she discovered the flavors of his skin. His scales rasped against her tongue, a curious but not unpleasant sensation. Nuzzling the base of his throat, Karis saturated her senses with the feel, scent, and taste of him.

A faint groan escaped Dukat as his hands slid over her hips and he drew Karis closer to him. His fingertips traced the long line of her spine, the movement achingly slow as he followed the hollow of her back. By the time his hand tangled in the dark mass of her hair, Karis was clutching at his waist for support. Gently, Dukat pulled her head back, exposing the slim column of her neck. His mouth descended upon her throat, pressing a curving path of kisses from her collarbone to her temple, his tongue tasting her skin as she had tasted his.

Karis’s head lolled back of its own accord and she willingly bared her throat to his kisses. Catching the pliant fabric at her neckline, Dukat slid the dress off her shoulders. His lips swept across her shoulder before returning to her neck. Karis gasped as his teeth nipped the tender spot below her ear, prickling her hypersensitive skin. "Goosebumps," she murmured. "You’re giving me goosebumps."

Dukat’s eyes drifted open and he raised his gaze to her flushed face. "Where?"

She considered his question for a moment. "My shoulders." She shrugged, helping him slide the dress lower on her shoulders as his lips sought the telltale spots.

"Hmmm," he finally said, "no goosebumps here."

"My arm," Karis suggested. He pushed the fabric down her forearm and extracted her hand from the sleeve. She sighed with pleasure as his mouth pressed a line of warm, moist kisses from the crook of her elbow to the center of her palm. Karis lifted a hand to his bowed head, and stroked the hair back from his brow.

Dukat raised his face to hers, his expression guileless. "Again, no goosebumps here. Perhaps you imagined them."

"Oh, they’re very real, but elusive." She shook her head in mock disappointment. "I never imagined a Cardassian would accept defeat so easily."

His hand traveled the length of her arm, from fingertip to shoulder, before Dukat answered her challenge. "For the sake of my own honor, as well as that of my home world, I dare not halt my search." He brushed his fingers over her mouth. Her lips seized his finger, and her tongue swirled around its tip. She groaned in protest when he extracted the digit from her mouth. "Where do you propose I look?" he asked as his wet fingertip snaked down her jaw and across her neck to her breastbone.

Her eyes were heavy with desire as Karis answered him. "Everywhere. I think you should look everywhere."

Hooking his thumbs in the supple fabric, Dukat tugged on her dress. The gown yielded to his gentle urging, slipping down over breasts, belly, and hips before it pooled on the floor at her feet. Karis felt oddly unselfconscious as she stepped from the dress. Attired only in a pair of sheer white panties and golden sandals, she experienced none of the embarrassment she had anticipated. In fact, she welcomed his scrutiny. The glint of admiration in his eyes as he swept his gaze over her body felt like another caress.

*Is this what Dukat meant when he said that I might find myself?* she wondered. *I’m a shameless hussy, and I only just realized it?* The prospect was less alarming than she expected. Now, at least, she felt completely alive not muffled by caution and decorum.

She flashed a brazen smile as Dukat ran an inquisitive hand between her breasts and across her belly. Tilting his head to one side, he pursed his lips. "No," he said regretfully. "No sign of the fugitive goosebumps."

"Perhaps a closer examination is called for," Karis suggested, circling her arms around his neck.

"Perhaps," he concurred, his mouth descending upon her throat. His tongue explored the hollow at its base, swirling in and out of the small depression. Dropping to one knee, Dukat blazed a trail of hot, wet kisses from her throat to her navel. His hands spanning her waist, Dukat probed her navel with the tip of his tongue. Karis seized his head for support and swayed against him, then gasped as he suddenly nipped the skin beside her navel. Shock sent tremors through her belly and puckered her nipples. Dukat lifted his head, a look of triumph in his eyes. "Found them," he said smugly, passing his hand lightly over the raised flesh on his abdomen.

Karis gripped his hair with both hands and tugged. "Come here," she demanded, pulling Dukat to his feet. "You cheated."

"No," he protested. "I merely took action to facilitate a speedy and successful conclusion to my search."

She nodded. "Which is a long-winded way of saying that you cheated." A strand of hair fell across her cheek as she gestured.

Dukat tucked it back in place. "You said it yourself," he admitted, "I like to play with words."

Karis shifted her weight slightly, so that her nipples grazed the sensitive skin of his belly. "Play with me instead."

Twining both hands in her hair, Dukat pulled her close and tilted her face up to meet his. His lips found the small furrows on the bridge of her nose, then traveled to her temple, gently kissing the very spot where his thumbs had pressed menacingly into her skull. His mouth lingered there, as if trying to imprint a new memory on its nerve endings. Skimming over her cheek, his lips finally found hers. He brushed once, twice, over her mouth before he brought his lips down fully on hers. Karis groaned as he gently bit her lower lip and sucked it into his mouth. Trembling, she tasted his mouth. Their tongues circled each other in a simulated duel, advancing, retreating, engaging, until Dukat forced her head back and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, as if daring her to challenge his preeminence. Karis yielded with a whimper; another whimper, this one of protest, marked his withdrawal.

Karis lost all sense of time as Dukat rained kisses upon her eyes, and hair, and throat, returning again and again to lay claim to her mouth. There was no help for it, her legs grew unsteady and she clung to him for support. Only the growing bulge in his crotch, insistent, compelling, could distract her from the bliss of his kisses. Undulating her hips from side to side, she pressed against him. As Dukat moaned in response, clenching his hand in her hair, she felt his penis twitch beneath her belly. Karis gasped, licked her lips, and reached for him. Her outspread fingers barely spanned the bulge. *This can’t be right,* she thought, consumed by curiosity.

Karis sought Dukat’s ear. "My turn," she whispered, and tugged on the lobe with her teeth. Placing her hands lightly on his shoulders, she nibbled at the ridge that ran along his jaw, smiling against his skin at his sharp intake of breath. Color suffused the thick, painfully swollen ridges along his neck. Karis tested their sensitivity, brushing her lips over the turgid surface. When Dukat arched his neck, encouraging her onslaught, Karis bit a chain of crescent shaped indentations along the ridge. She slid her hands down to his chest and rolled his nipples between her fingertips. Her tongue fluttered along the arabesque his pectoral ridges formed as they descended toward his hips, tasting the briny exudate that signaled his arousal. Karis sank to her knees, lightheaded. Her heart pounded so rapidly that she barely managed to fill her lungs with air. She held his hips while she pressed her mouth against his groin, and exhaled a long, warm, moist breath.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dukat closed his eyes against the sight of Karis kneeling before him, her lids languid with desire as she caressed his crotch with her cheek. One of his hands still rested on her head; with the other he gripped the edge of the table behind him. It would not do if the overstimulated Prefect of Bajor toppled sideways onto the floor. One by one, Karis lifted his feet and pulled off his boots. He inhaled slowly as he felt her fingers slip under the waistband of his pants. She dragged them down to his hipbones, then paused. First the air kissed his newly bared skin, and then her lips bestowed a similar benediction.

She caught the waistband again and tugged, peeling them down to his ankles. Again, she lifted his feet, then tossed aside his pants. His skin tingled with anticipation, his ears strained to hear her slightest sound. This voluntary blindness deprived him of any advance knowledge of when or where Karis would touch him, leaving him oddly vulnerable, yet highly excited. A minute passed. A frown puckered his brow. After another minute, Dukat opened his eyes and glanced down at her silent figure.

Karis had rocked back on her heels. Her eyes were very large as she lifted them from Dukat’s penis to his face. "Glory," she said simply.

Of course. Dukat had forgotten that Bajoran women often were staggered by their first encounter with a raging Cardassian cock. A hasty glimpse of a recumbent Cardassian member would leave them unprepared for the full majesty of the awakened beast. In repose, it manifested characteristics in keeping with the dissimilarities between men of the two species. The delicate tracery of scales on its surface was to be expected, as were the finely segmented ridges that marked it from base to tip. Unremarkable too, at least in this context, was the greater length and breadth of his race’s penis. Only when aroused did it exhibit the peculiar Cardassian feature that so dazzled Bajoran women. What appeared on the flaccid organ to be an innocent, if overlong, foreskin, flared into prominence on the rigid member. Bristling with nubs, swollen far beyond its original size, this frill promised a potentially alarming intensification of sensation in any woman in whom it was deployed. Karis was hardly the first woman struck dumb by the sight of it.

Karis tilted her head to one side, deep in thought. She reached out tentatively, running her forefinger over the corrugated surface of his Cardassian frill. Her eyes widened again as she considered its potential. "Glory," she repeated under her breath.

Dukat glanced complacently at his engorged cock. "Your reverence is entirely understandable."

Karis arched a brow. "Then it’s only fitting that I’m on my knees before the godhead." She raised her face to the shaft, brushing first cheek, then lips, then tongue over its horny surface.

"Impious woman," Dukat sighed as her tongue flicked back and forth on the underside of his cock. Rising up on her knees, Karis slowly slid first the head and then the frill into her mouth. "You may worship at my altar any time."

Her tongue swirled around the head of his penis as Karis extracted it from her mouth. Sliding her hand up and down the shaft, she considered his gracious invitation. "Do you demand sacrifices from your devoted followers?"

"Of course," he murmured, as her tongue sought his cock again.

Karis arched her neck, finding an angle that allowed him to slide farther into her mouth. Her throat closed around his penis, and Dukat paused, waiting to see if she would choke. Apparently she mastered the impulse, for her throat muscles went slack and she pivoted her mouth from side to side, drawing his cock in even deeper. Dukat sighed his pleasure, watching her through half-closed eyes.

This was a promising start. Accommodating a Cardassian frill required a finesse that challenged many Bajoran women. Even the most hardy could maintain this level of penetration for only a short time before they must come up for air. Karis was no exception. Seizing the base of his penis with her hand, she pulled her mouth away. Bleary eyed, gasping for breath, she swallowed and gingerly rotated her jaw. "Tell me," Karis asked, her voice unsteady. "Just what offerings must your faithful acolytes lay at your altar?" Her hand slid up and down his cock, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Oh the usual," he responded. He groaned as Karis lowered her lips to his frill, her tongue exploring its furrows and protrusions. "Food…precious metals…virgins…Ouch!" Karis impulsively nipped the frill with her teeth, leaned back, and glowered at him in pretend outrage.

"Imp!" Dukat roared, emerging quickly from his libidinous torpor. Dropping down, he propelled Karis onto her back. He kissed her on the mouth, then sat up on his knees. "I can’t believe you bit me" he exclaimed, seizing her panties, ripping the sheer fabric along the seams, and tossing them aside.

Karis raised herself on her elbows. "Your divinity seems to be going to your head…And I can’t believe you tore my panties!"

"You don’t need them," he said, running his palm over the smooth skin of her inner thigh. Her eyes drifted shut for just a moment, and Karis inhaled a deep, quivering breath before she reached out and captured his fingers.

She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his palm. "Please, I want to finish what we started. I want you to come in my mouth."

It was not an invitation Dukat had ever been known to decline, and this would be no exception. He reached for her hand to pull her up to her knees, but Karis smiled and shook her head. "No," she insisted, lying back on the floor, "you come to me."

Without hesitation, he straddled her ribcage, his penis riding the valley between her breasts. He pressed her breasts together, creating a soft burrow against which he rocked his hips. Karis licked her thumb and lightly stroked the head of his penis each time it emerged from between her breasts. Her breathing grew ragged, and her hips began to mimic the movement of his thrusts. Releasing her breasts, Dukat finally inserted his cock between her eager lips.

Karis groaned with relief and raised her head to meet the insertion. She was oblivious to the awkward angle of her neck, but Dukat was not. Snatching his discarded pants from the floor, he rolled them into a ball and placed them under her neck for support. Despite it’s awkwardness, Dukat enjoyed this position. The emotions that flickered across Karis’s unguarded face brought him great satisfaction. So lost in lust was she that no caution, no pretence, blunted her reactions to his ministrations. It was a moment of naked honesty and pure triumph.

Cupping her breasts with his hands, Dukat teased her nipples, lightly flicking his thumbs over the rigid nibs. Karis arched her back, encouraging him to continue his sweet assault on this most sensitive area. He pinched her nipples between thumbs and forefingers, gently elongating and twisting the points. Paroxysms of pleasure danced across her face.

Dukat closed his eyes briefly, losing himself in the tidal wave of sensation that was hurling him towards orgasm. Determined to carry Karis along with him, he sought to spur her closer to her own climax. His hands and cock were fully occupied, his mouth too far removed to assist in his quest. This might have challenged a less experienced and resourceful lover, but not Dukat. Undaunted, he swung his lower leg between her thighs and pressed his foot against her crotch. His big toe easily found her swollen clit, and rotated against it, providing the last fillip of stimulation needed to sweep her over the edge. Karis sucked in her breath and a dark flush suffused her face. As the first shudders of her orgasm seized her, Dukat threw back his head and drove his penis hard into her throat, flooding her mouth with his seed. She tilted back her head and swallowed.

Dukat withdrew from her mouth and placed a fleeting kiss on her brow and lips before sprawling on his back next to her. "Well…I could die happy now," Karis said with a sigh.

"So, this isn’t quite the dreadful ordeal that you anticipated?"

Karis flashed a rueful smile. "I was an idiot. If you like, I’ll write you a testimonial."

His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "Thank you," he demurred, "but I’m far too modest to flaunt my prowess in such a way."

"You are probably the least modest man of my acquaintance," she chided, "but you also have less cause to be modest than anyone I know." She rolled on her side and stared at him thoughtfully. "I didn’t expect to like you so much."

He reached out a hand and drew her head to his chest. Karis snuggled against him with a satisfied sigh. They lay together in companionable silence for several minutes. Finally, Dukat stretched, eased Karis’s head off his chest, and sat up. By raising up on one knee, he was just able to snag the stem of her untouched glass of wine. Dropping back to the floor, he offered Karis the first sip. He held the glass to her mouth as she swallowed, then lifted it to his own lips, studying her over the upturned rim as he drank.

"Karis," he ordered, "lie back down."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Trusting that whatever Dukat had in mind must be pleasurable, Karis obeyed, then gasped when he unceremoniously dumped the remaining contents of the glass on her belly. Wine ran in rivulets over her ribs. A trickle followed the indentation that led to the base of her throat, but by far the greatest amount pooled on the hollow of her abdomen.

Dukat leaned over her solicitously. "Let me help you," he offered, lowering his lips to her throat. He lapped at the wine puddled there, then followed the trail to her belly, where he buried his mouth in her navel, capturing the wine with his tongue. Indignation turned to avid need as his mouth moved to her breasts, where he sucked first one nipple and then the other. She moaned in protest when he raised his head. He stood and offered a hand to pull Karis to her feet.

She swayed against him, her legs wobbly. "What now," she asked, her eyes sleepy with desire.

"Now bed," he answered, and to her relief, he scooped her into his arms and carried her through a doorway. It was a grand gesture; Karis felt a bit absurd, like one of those swooning heroines in the dubious romantic novels she read as a teenager. Regardless, this suited the occasion far more than stumbling weak-kneed after Dukat as he led the way to his bed. She was still smiling at that image when he set her down and stretched out beside her.

"You look happy," he observed, brushing a hand through her damp hair.

"Yes, I’m happy," she agreed, twining her arms around his neck, "but I’m not entirely content." She drew his head down, seeking his lips.

"I would be a less than gracious host if I didn’t see to it that all your needs are satisfied," he said, his mouth hovering above hers.

"And your own needs?"

"By some fortunate turn of events, our needs appear to coincide." His mouth descended upon hers and his tongue teased her lips apart. Dukat’s hands played expertly across her body, caressing and titillating every hollow and curve as he led Karis closer and closer to a carnal frenzy. She strained against him, meeting his every caress with one of her own.

His hand slipped to her crotch. Karis arched her pelvis against his fingers, the slick and swollen folds signaling her readiness for penetration. Bracing himself above her, he eased the tip of his penis into position against her nether lips. Dukat kissed her deeply as he drove his cock into her. His mouth muffled her cry as she convulsed with the shock of his rapid incursion.

"It’s all right," he whispered against her ear, holding still as Karis grew accustomed to the unfamiliar size and dimension of his organ. He kissed the tears that beaded her lashes. "It gets better, I promise."

Karis nodded, unable to trust her voice. Nothing with Jarrell had prepared her for this, not even their first coupling. Of course, none of Jarrell’s fumblings had hinted at the bliss that she had already enjoyed at Dukat’s hands, she reminded herself. If Dukat promised that pleasure lay beyond the pain, she believed him. Karis willed herself to relax. She retreated, for a moment, to that still and silent place the monk had taught her to create. She stood beside the reflecting pool, soaking in its aura of peace and calm, and when she gazed at its surface, she saw Dukat’s face shimmering on the water.

Resolutely, Karis slipped her hands over Dukat’s buttocks and she pulled him closer to her crotch. She contracted the muscles of her pelvis, allowing herself to feel how completely he filled her. Rocking her hips against him, Karis encouraged Dukat to begin his thrusting. With a groan of undisguised relief, Dukat did just that, tentatively at first, then with increasing vigor.

She was dancing on a fine line between pain and pleasure, Karis realized. Only when she embraced the event, permitting her senses to spiral out of control, did the balance shift decisively in favor of pleasure. Her world contracted to a pinpoint. The only reality was the immediate, the tangible, the joy of Dukat’s hands and mouth moving on her skin, and the glory of his cock laying waste to her vagina. Nothing existed beyond the circle of his arms. So intoxicated was she by the experience, that at first Karis didn’t hear Dukat call her name.

Her eyelids slowly drifted open and she focused on his face with difficulty. "I’m pulling out for just a minute," he warned her, and did so, to her dismay. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "This will increase the intensity level," he cautioned, sliding his hands under her buttocks and pulling her hips to the edge of the bed. "If you don’t like it, let me know, but I think you’ll find it enjoyable."

Karis watched him, curious, and willing to try anything he suggested. She noticed that the bed was unusually tall. When he leaned into it, his crotch was the same height as the bed. Anticipating his instructions, Karis scooted to the very edge, putting her pelvis within inches of his still rampant erection. Dukat smiled, acknowledging her enthusiasm, and then he seized her feet and placed her heels on his shoulders. He entered her slowly this time, but quickly recaptured his old rhythm.

Her eyes rolled shut and Karis lay back gasping. Increase the intensity! The phrase sold the experience short. Maximize was a more apt description. Dukat’s penis battered her cervix, leaving her once again skating on the line between pleasure and pain. And again, when she yielded to the sensation, she discovered that she liked it, that it transported her out of herself to a new plane of ecstasy.

She splayed her fingers across his ribs, clutching at his skin as she lost herself in the moment. Dukat turned his head and bit the arch of her foot, sucking hard against the skin. His hands fondled her breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingertips. As Karis approached another orgasm, she raised up on her elbows and twisted her foot out of his mouth. Sliding her heels down Dukat’s shoulders, she caught her knees in the crooks of his arms, allowing him to lean forward. She reached out to him avidly, drawing his mouth to her breasts, then moaned with pleasure as his teeth tugged at her nipples.

There was no slow buildup to this climax, no tantalizing advance and retreat of sensation. It descended upon her in full force, like a gift from heaven. Her hands clawed furrows in Dukat’s shoulders, and, to her surprise, tears sprung from her eyes. Dukat had held his own orgasm in abeyance until Karis found hers. As her pelvic muscles contracted around him, Dukat let himself go, crying out in relief as his semen inundated her vagina.

Karis collapsed, physically and emotionally spent by her descent into an unknown realm of sensation and emotion. Dukat climbed back onto the bed and pulled her to his side as he sprawled across its surface. He twirled a damp tendril of her hair around a finger, and ran his hand across her sweat-slicked abdomen.

"This is how I imagined I’d see you," he told her. "Drenched with sweat, trembling with exhaustion, an unabashedly wanton woman."

"Did you?" Karis lay her head and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat reverberate through her fingertips. "I never saw myself that way before tonight, but I must admit, I rather like it…Although I suspect that I won’t be able to walk upright tomorrow, or chew for that matter," she added, massaging her jaw.

"I’ve ruined you," Dukat said dryly.

"Utterly," Karis agreed.

After several minutes, Dukat sat up. "We missed our dinner and I’m famished," he confessed. "I’ll get something for us to eat." Karis struggled to sit up, but he waved her back down. "No, no," he insisted. "Seeing that I’m responsible for your enfeebled state, you rest and I’ll bring the food." He padded out of the room; leaving Karis stretched out languorously on his bed.

*I’m a mess,* she thought, running her hand over her body. Her once beautifully arranged hair, now damp and lank, lay plastered to her shoulders. Dried rivulets of wine mingled with perspiration stained her ribs. When she pulled her hand away from her skin, she heard a most unattractive sucking noise, as her palm stuck to the wine residue. Karis winced as her fingers explored her abraded nether lips, then again as they brushed over her chafed nipples.

She was glad, Karis decided, that her body carried souvenirs of this encounter with Dukat. Tomorrow, when she was tucked back in her old familiar bed, she could touch herself, and be reassured that this was real and not some feverish dream. *And how can you go back to your old, empty life after this?* a small voice in her head cried, but she firmly shushed it into silence. Nothing must spoil the wonder of this night, not even the knowledge that it would end.

Dukat returned a few minutes later, balancing several plates on his arms, and with two glasses of wine tucked between the fingers of his left hand. He found Karis sitting up cross-legged on the bed, attempting to comb her hair with her fingers.

"I didn’t know what you wanted to eat," he said with a surprisingly boyish smile, "so I brought a little of everything." Karis jumped to her feet and helped him spread the dishes across the bed. He picked up a portion of veklivar. "I hope we don’t get food poisoning. This has been sitting out for a while."

"Let’s live dangerously," Karis suggested, reaching for the moba fruit. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Karis, I want you to know that I just sent the orders rescinding Naren’s labor conscription." Dukat said as he reached for a piece of fruit. "She’s been assigned light housekeeping duties at the hospital."

Karis put down the fruit she was eating and drew a deep breath. It was done. Naren was safe. It had come at a cost, of course, but not the one she had anticipated. A rush of tears filled her eyes. She became aware that Dukat was waiting for some response. Karis looked up at him. "Thank you. I’m very glad."

Puzzled by her muted reaction, Dukat reached out and touched the tear brimming on the corner of her eye. "You aren’t surprised that I would honor my part of our agreement, are you?"

"Of course not," Karis answered honestly. "I knew that you would keep your word. I think…I think I’m just a little shocked that my plan really worked and that Naren truly is safe."

He nodded, studying her face. "Tears of gratitude then?"

"Uh-huh," Karis bobbed her head in assent.

Dukat took a bite of the fruit, chewed, and swallowed. "So our debt to each other is honorably discharged?"

"Yes," Karis agreed.

He took another bite. "We’re no longer under any obligation to each other?"

"That’s right," Karis concurred.

"Well then," he suggested, licking the sticky fruit juice from his fingertips, "What do you say we do it again, just for fun?"

Heedless of the mess, Karis swept the plates between them onto the floor. She pounced, propelling Dukat backward onto the bed.

"I might be persuaded," she replied, pinning his arms above his head.

"I’ve created a monster," Dukat declared in mock horror. He indulged her show of force for a few more seconds before he wrestled her over, reversing their positions. He placed a deep, lingering kiss on her mouth. She tasted the sweetness of the fruit on his lips. When he slipped a hand between her legs, his fingers probing her vulva, Karis groaned. Two pairs of eyes flew open and they stared at each other.

"Now I know that I won’t be able to walk tomorrow," Karis complained, opening her legs to welcome his hand.

Dukat grinned wickedly, nothing daunted.

"That’s all right," he assured her, "you’re not going anywhere."