A MEAL
TO REMEMBER PUBLISHED IN Short extract: Without thinking, I reach out and grab his wrist. Spock swallows and looks at me but doesn't pull away when I lean over the table. Our eyes are still locked, and his widen in surprise as my tongue flicks out and I lick away the remnants of the sauce from his fingers. They curl under the caress, as if wanting to get closer and pull away at the same time. His pulse is beating so fast under my fingers, and I can feel the muscles in his hand tense, but I won't let go and Spock makes no real effort to escape. His eyes are half-closed as I lick his palm delicately, savoring the taste of the sauce, and nibble my way along his hand, moving towards his fingers. A tremble goes through Spock's body and he gasps. That gasp goes right through me. "Jim. What are you doing?" His voice is so low, rumbling through his chest. It feels like a caress to my ears. "Tasting the Sa'tai-i," I reply breathlessly, hoping that Spock won't pull away. Not now. "This would seem a very inefficient means of doing so," he says hoarsely. "I am not certain this is a good idea." My stomach clenches. This is a very good idea, Spock," I disagree, and keep nibbling my way up his fingers. "Ah, Jim…" Spock squirms in his seat, trying to pull away at the same time that his fingers spread to allow better access. He's tormented by this, and I'm fascinated. He wants it. I can see it in his eyes, yet years of Vulcan restraint and cultural taboos make it so difficult for him to let go. I want him to know that it's all right. I want him to know that he can let go with me, because I would never let him down or hurt him in any way. "Trust me, Spock," I whisper. "Please, trust me." He moans as I kiss his palm, sweeping my wet tongue over the roughness of his skin. "I do, Jim. I do trust you…. That is not…. " "It is all that matters, Spock. I would never hurt you." "I know." |