Fluff for QD
It was good to see the healthy color in Will’s cheeks as they meandered down the deserted gravel pathway hand in hand. Deanna caught his eye and they both smiled, sharing the sheer pleasure of the fall day, and the beauty of their peaceful surroundings. Fall foliage painted the trees and grounds with brilliant brushstrokes of scarlet and lavender, and the air was deliciously cool without yet being cold. The vast grounds of the rehabilitation campus were deserted. Will squeezed her hand and she released it, only to encircle his waist with her arm and snug up closer to him when he tightened his embrace.
Her shuttle trip from the Enterprise had been filled with tense anticipation and not a little trepidation; for Deanna hadn’t any idea how Will was going to respond to her unannounced arrival. But if the pleased shock mirrored in his eyes and the gigantic gigawatt smile that spread across his face wasn’t reassurance enough, the vibrant kaleidoscope of his unruly emotions and the exquisite warmth of his kisses removed all further doubt. He was happy she had come, and was feeling well enough to think about her in a way that he hadn’t been able to the last time she had seen him in the sickbay on the Enterprise. Deanna fought the blush that threatened as she read the tenor of his thoughts, and smiled, allowing herself the pleasure of basking in the wash of his emotions.
Will guided their walk, purposefully steering their course down one of the lesser used paths; he knew them all intimately after his long convalescence on Danetar II. A nagging stitch caught his side and he was feeling slightly winded, but he didn’t want Deanna to know, and so he sat on a shaded chair in a sheltered nook and pulled her laughing into his lap. Will breathed a sigh of relief as he buried his face in the waves of dark hair that cascaded over her shoulder and inhaled the faint spice and floral scent that he could attribute to no one else but her. “Mmmmm… you smell good enough to eat Deanna,” he murmured into her hair, wrapping his arms around her slender waist. When he made a gentle attempt to bite her breast and as expected, got a reprimand.
“I am not dinner Will Riker,” she said with mock severity.
Not to be so easily deterred, Will nipped the tender flesh of her inner arm. “Mmmmm.. how about desert then?” he asked, sliding his hands under Deanna’s blouse and running his hands over the soft silken skin of her back as he unfastened her bra. She shivered as his fingers sought and found her breasts. “Slowly Riker,” he cautioned himself. “Slowly or she’ll make you stop.” Will Riker had no intension of stopping.
Deanna sat as still as she was able, given the feelings Will was stirring, trying hard not to encourage him further, but having difficulty focusing on anything but the delicious sensuality he was igniting throughout her body. With that devilish glint in his eyes and roses in his cheeks he looked so normal that it was hard to remember how fragile his health still was, especially when the more notorious part of his personality, and his anatomy, still seemed fully intact. Gently moving his hands to her waist, she pushed her fingers through his thick hair, noting the increasing amount of gray as she searched his face. When she found what she was looking for, she pulled his head towards hers until their lips met in a celebratory reunion and a renewal of passion. When he held her tightly in his arms she forgot for a moment all of her intentions, and breathless gasps of delight escaped her, as they filled the still afternoon air with the sounds of their explorations. Will had always easily spun a silken web that entangled her, powered solely by his love and his ardor. As they kissed each other hungrily, she couldn’t tell who needed whom more. One small corner of her mind still retained it’s reason and she tried to stop. “Will,” she protested, but he silenced her with another kiss, this time delivered so softly that it was only felt by the warmth his lips shared with hers. “Will,” she said again, shifting on his lap. He opened his eyes and looked directly into hers, and she speedily buckled under the bottomless blue gaze that reflected her own soul back to her. He sighed shakily and rested his head on her chest again as he held her tightly without moving. A lone scarlet leaf fell and was caught between them
“Deanna,” Will whispered, his eyes squeezed tight. Further conversation was arrested on her part by the pain in his voice. “I need you… all of you.” He shivered and she tightened her arms around him. “I don’t know how I ever got out of that hellhole alive,” he said, shuddering in her arms. Deanna closed her own eyes against remembering the months of pain after his disappearance while incarcerated at the Romulan “debriefing” center. He raised his eyes to hers, and appeared unsure of what to expect in her response. “Even with you in my arms today, it still feels…somehow unreal…I still feel like some kind of half-man…” he started, but seemed unable to go on.” Deanna held her own breath as he held his in the struggle to contain his emotions. Deanna ran her fingers through his hair and held him close until she felt his heart slow and peace slowly pervade his mind again.
“Will…Imzadi. You have to believe it’s real…That I’m real…and that I love you.” She took a deep breath and forged onward… “but the doctor…”
Will had no intension of talking about doctors orders, and interrupted her by pushing his nose deeper into the soft folds of silk that half hid Deanna’s cleavage and inhaling. He could feel the heated blush that he couldn’t see, but knew would be tinting her fair skin. The escalation of her heart rate told it’s own story, and her unconscious body language made him confident that she needed him as much as he did her. At least that was his prayer. “Let me love you Imzad,” he whispered, full of hope. When he leaned back, he looked up into passion filled dark eyes that swallowed him and dissolved his stoic reality into a foggy swirl. “You know you want me Deanna…and now I know it too,” he said, his voice hoarse. Will tried another experimental nibble and watched her reaction.
An elegant sable brow arched over one eye. “You sound pretty sure of yourself Commander. Sounds as though you think I might be a sure thing.”
Will feigned innocence, allowing only a trace of his usual grin… “Nope, not me.” He arched his own eyebrow. “Though I can feel your heart beating like a trip hammer…and if I reached up to do this…” Deanna’s eyes widened slightly and she squirmed on his lap as his hand cupped her breast once more…his thumb tracing lazy circles designed to inflame… “ You’d stop me right?”
Deanna’s breath was slow and shaky as she clasped his wrist, but she didn’t seem to possess the inner strength to move his hand away….Instead, she moved it down again, leaving it, whether purposefully or not, at the opening of her blouse. Will slowly undid the jeweled clasp holding the silky material together and lavishly christened the lush view he had unveiled with his lips and tongue. Pulling her blouse back off of her shoulders, he moved into the previously explored territory of what made Deanna Troi lose sight of the spiritual she was so fond of, and dissolve into the very physical and sensual being that she was. Discarding her already loosened bra, he kissed her breasts with reverence. It had been these images of her, and his memory of their love that kept him alive when he had wanted to die more then anything. Small sounds of her pleasure provoked his need of her and he pushed for more, loosening the tie of her skirt around her tiny waist, and pushing the offending fabric up her thighs. “Deanna,” he breathed, just her name on his lips brought healing to his soul. She pressed up against him as she kissed him with purpose and passion, making him all the more desperate to have her. He impatiently fumbled to loosen his own clothing, his pants being especially constricting, and becoming more so by the moment. Deanna encouraged him, helping him ease his pants over his hips, letting them pool around his ankles.
The grounds were deserted, and the slight chance of discovery only heightened Will’s need to have her here and now, but the old fashioned closure on his jacket stuck tight, and he struggled with it while the rhythm of his heart labored.
Deanna was sensitive to the signs that Will was tiring, and wasn’t fooled by his detour to the garden chair. But she didn’t have the heart to force him to confess the frailty that he had faced every day for months. She kissed him while she removed his hand and pulled the metallic closure downwards, revealing the soft sweater that had molded itself to his chest. His eyes were deep pools of blue that she felt she could drown in. They were absent of shame, and filled with his abiding love and a trace of hope. Beyond that, she sensed a deep passion to reclaim something he felt he had lost. Committed, she followed the path of least resistance and groaned inwardly as Will’s hands molded to her buttocks. She was ready to be claimed and with a little turning of the tables she hoped to accomplish just that. Will nuzzled her breasts and slid his hands beneath her skirt, and Deanna was hard pressed to remember just who was the invalid. Weakness assailed her limbs, melting her bones and turning her muscles to putty. She found herself quickly lost a universe of his creation, where he was the sun, and she his mistress, the moon, caught helplessly in orbit around him. With tremendous effort, she pulled her mouth from his and peeled his jacket off, attacking his sweater. Pulling it quickly over his head, she straddled his legs and pressed her breasts against his heated skin, kissing him until he was again breathing heavily and fully aroused. Limbs tangling in their haste to find completion, they laughed and fumbled, finally managing to divest him of the rest of his clothing. But when Will made his move to stand, Deanna made a move of her own. Her urgent need was unfeigned as she pushed him back into his seat and proceeded to remove any doubt in his mind that she needed only one thing from him. When she joined her body to his, she cried out as he entered her, merging her body and soul with his as she made love to him, giving him wholeness. The colored leaves continued to fall around them in silent counterpoint to the increasing urgency of their union. All too soon she was gasping as she rode the pinnacle of her release, as waves of pure pleasure exploded through her bodies core as she cried out his name.
Will threw his head back, Deanna’s name on his lips and his hands on her surging hips as his whole body shuddered with its impending release. He had been ambushed and finally undone by Deanna’s passionate attack, and as he gave himself over her, she claimed not just his body, but his very soul. They cried out, almost simultaneously in their climactic release, and when the last of their exhausted movements finally ceased, Will was breathing heavily, with his forehead on Deanna’s shoulder and his arms wrapped tightly around her. Thoroughly ravished, he smiled weakly, a creeping weakness stealing over him in the afterglow of their spent ardor. The heat from his damp skin slowly dissipated in the cool of the evening air and he fought eyelids that were heavy and had begun to flutter and drift downward as if weighted. Deanna’s breathing had already slowed but his was still labored and his heart thudded loudly against his chest. Calm and at peace, he waited with far more patience then usual for his body to settle, contentment seeping into his tired bones as she whispered how much she needed him. He squeezed her tightly in agreement, letting his caresses communicate what he was not able to speak as yet. For the first time in months he felt a glimmer of hope.
In the distance the aged groundskeeper squinted to observe the new sculpture that stood far off in the east garden. It must be quite new because he hadn’t noticed it the week before. Scratching his head, he tried to figure out what it was, but after a few minutes gave up. Whistling as he picked up his tools, he kicked an errant rock out of his immaculate path, and decided to go take a look after tending to the long overdue needs of the central fish pond. Hitching his heavy bag up higher on his shoulder, he glanced back one more time and snorted his amusement as he dismissed the indecipherable mass with a careless wave of his hand. “Modern art. Guess some people like it, but I can’t see the sense of it,” he said testily.