Sexual Chocolate (R)

Sexual Chocolate

Category: Voyager, J/Kashyk

Rating: R for language and sexual situations.

Author: LadyChakotay (Yes, I admit it. It was me.)

Summary: Inspector Kashyk reflects on how much Kathryn and chocolate have in common, both enticing and bad for you, on his last night aboard Voyager.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all of it, probably even the chocolate. Besides, I think they'd burst into flames if they ever read this! Well, their pants anyway. No infringement intended. I'm just letting Kathryn out for a breath of Devore air. The collage isn't mine either. But I don't remember where it came from, so if it's yours -let me know and I'll happily give you credit or remove it.

Authors Note: Okay my dear J/C friends. Hold your fire! I am still, and always will be, a J/Cer. But the darkly handsome Inspector has been dancing around in my head for weeks now begging for a story to be written on his behalf. And you must admit, Chakotay has been a bit of a disappointment of late. So I'm not abandoning ship. I'm just visiting the Imperium for a while. Blame it on my dark side, or the fact that this story was written at 0400.

I was dared by a friend to write a serious story with the cheesey title Sexual Chocolate, and … well, you know how I react to a dare, right? So here it is. And it is definitely not my usual sweetness and light, because Kashyk is just not a nice guy. It's not for the faint of heart. If the thought of Janeway in the arms of this delicious Devore bothers you, you may want to skip this story. I'm raising shields. No flames please! I've never had one, and I may cry.

I'd never tasted chocolate before Voyager. The Devore rarely indulge in such frivolities. But then - the Imperium had never met Kathryn Janeway.

The first time I tasted it, I licked it from her finger. The taste exploded in my mouth just as her throaty voice exploded in my ear. "Do you like it, Inspector?"

Oh yes, I liked it. I liked all of it.

I realized rather quickly that they are quite similar - Kathryn and her chocolate. The smell of it is enticing, tempting me to take just one bite. Like the scent of her lightly perfumed hair, it lures me, beckons me near - even when I know better.

And the flavor of chocolate - it is indescribable. Rich and sinfully sweet, like the taste of her soft lips begging me to partake, to savor and relish in her even though I know that once I start - I am powerless to stop. One taste of such intense ecstasy is never enough.

Its texture is hard and unyielding when it's cold, but it melts and slides along my skin when I apply a little heat. Just like her, so strong and resolute. Until I push my tongue into her mouth. Then her body softens and molds to mine. I feel the heat of her and know I must have more.

Chocolate is addicting - just like Kathryn. Each time I eat it, I swear it is the last. But then it consumes my thoughts, driving me to distraction until I have no choice but to return. She has the very same effect on me. Every time I touch her, I vow it is the last time. And then she creeps into my dreams and infects my thoughts until I feel I've lost my mind. Her glistening blue eyes burning with years of pent up passion. Her shining hair, the color of flames in the moonlight - I am but a man. And try as I might, I cannot resist her. I crave her like a starving man craves chocolate.

Each time I take that first bite of melted chocolate, my head spins and my tongue tingles causing the dark hairs on my arms to stand upright. And that first taste of her - her fiery mouth and creamy flesh - it sends my senses into a jet wash from which it takes me hours to recover. It would be so easy to lose myself in it.

In her.

But like Kathryn, chocolate must be respected. If I allow myself to become absorbed in it, I lose the power of rational thought. And then it gets the better of me. The pain and nausea that tear through my abdomen are not unlike the searing blow she delivers if I am foolish enough to underestimate her. She demands regard and obedience. And if I over-indulge, I suffer the consequences.

Only the pain is not confined to my abdomen.

Chocolate is a sexual food - erotic and sinful, inviting the partaker to forget his sensibilities and abandon his rationality. And Kathryn is a very sexual creature. I see it every time I watch her - the way she moves and carries herself. She slinks rather than walks, like a beautiful and powerful feline stalking her prey. Commanding women have always enthralled me, but none before like Janeway. Such strength contrasted by such overt femininity and softness - the delicate arch of her perfectly shaped eyebrow, the way the men under her command snap to attention at her order as if they live only to serve her, and the intensity of her soul - I lack to words to do her justice.

But she's also very dangerous, a trait I find alluring. If I were to be loyal to her, I know she would support me with all the ferocity her spirit possesses. And I fear that when I betray her …

And I will betray her …

She'll snap me like a twig beneath her polished Starfleet boot. No woman has ever challenged me so. Or disturbed me so much

I've been on this ship - her ship - for only a matter of days now. And already she has a piece of me I know I will never get back.

The chime sounds, alerting me to a presence at my door, and I find myself hoping that she has come to visit me in these quarters that serve as my cell.

"Come."

The door slides open, and I see her. A slight smile curling on her lips, the twinkle of defiance in her eyes as she tells her security guard to wait outside. "May I come in?"

Her voice is dripping like hot fudge on cold vanilla ice cream, and I find myself melting at the sound of it. "Of course, Captain."

She holds herself erect, her shoulders back and chin held high as if she's about to undergo one of my military inspections. But the slight twitching of her fingers betrays her, and I see that she's conflicted, her feelings battling inside her.

She's not the only one. She evokes in me a myriad of opposing emotions that wage a war upon my soul. One would think that such a mixture of positively and negatively charged passions would ignite and cause me to explode. Perhaps, in the end, it will.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" I ask.

She runs a slender hand through her hair and sighs from deep within. It is only then that I notice how fatigued she looks.

"I don't know." She answers honestly. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided to go for a walk. I ended up here."

Ah - she is drawn to me as I am to her. This knowledge makes me smile to myself. I order the computer to play a Tchaikovsky selection, one of her favorites I believe, and gesture for her to join me on the sofa. "Perhaps this music will relax you."

She moves slowly toward me, stalking me with her eyes. "I didn't come here for the music, Inspector." Her voice, husky as old velvet, clearly indicates her intentions.

I nod my head and reach for her, needing to feel her next to me. "I know that." I slowly unzip her uniform jacket, my eyes trying to memorize the way the gray turtleneck clings to her body. "I know why you're here."

"Do you?" she purrs, arching an eyebrow provocatively.

"Yes." I say as she begins to unfasten my pants.

"Tell me."

She slips my shirt off and I can't help but sigh aloud as her lips find my burning flesh and she blazes a trail of hot kisses across my chest. "You want me to give you what he cannot. You want me to make love to you as he never will."

We both know that 'He' refers to her Commander Chakotay. Their feelings for each other are obvious- and yet he does nothing to pursue her. Any man who can spend his days so close to Kathryn and resist the desire to take her for his own doesn't deserve her. Coward.

A throaty laugh escapes her lips. Not a joyous laugh, but a sarcastic and bitter chuckle. "Make love?" she hisses. "What we do has nothing to do with love, Kashyk. We fuck - nothing more."

She's trying to wound me, I realize. I shrug. "If you wish."

Such arrogance. She brings out extreme emotions in me; passion, violence, the desire for her acceptance, the craving for her submission. I'll admit it. Often I want to break her, bring her to her knees in complete acquiescence and watch her beg me to be merciful. And other times I want to hold her to my chest tenderly, worshipfully, as one would hold a rare and precious treasure. For she is. She's a paradox, and I want her with all that I am. And though I know that I cannot have her forever, for this one moment she is mine.

I seize her by the arms and shove her roughly to the ground. She says nothing as I tear her clothing from her body, my eyes roaming her creamy flesh. I never imagined I could find a gaharay so beautiful.

I divest myself of my civilian clothing as I make my way to the repaired replicator. "Chocolate topping, hot, and one serving of vanilla ice cream."

I watch the desire burn through her eyes as I kneel beside her and dip my finger in the bubbling hot chocolate sauce. I bring it slowly to her mouth, and I feel my erection stiffen painfully as she sucks the syrup from my finger. Her red lips puckered seductively against my skin. Then I lean in and kiss her, claiming her mouth for my own and tasting the sinful chocolate on her tongue.

She strokes my cheek softly, a tender and somewhat affectionate motion that touches me despite myself. Then her eyes lock with mine as she lowers her shoulders to the floor and closes her eyes. I see the gesture for what it is - she is giving herself to me. Not her heart, just her body. But I am a greedy man and I'll take whatever part of her I can get.

I lean between her thighs, my stomach hovering just inches above hers, and I slowly, agonizingly dribble the scalding chocolate across her nipples. She gasps at the sensation of the hot syrup against her soft flesh and arches her back in response. She's beautiful in her suffering.

I take a spoonful of the smooth ice cream into my mouth and then bring my lips to her breast. I feel her shiver and squirm beneath me as I suck the burning chocolate from her nipple with my freezing cold mouth. My hand roams her body, and as I draw near her hot center, she spreads her legs for me. She is moist and tight, and we moan in unison as I slip my fingers inside her. I relish in the way she writhes at my touch as I continue to play in her wet folds. She intoxicates me, consuming me from within.

I continue to torturously erotic process of hot and cold stimuli as my mouth journeys down her abdomen. The burning chocolate leaves angry red welts on her fair skin. But she seems immune to the pain as I send her senses reeling.

As I lick more of the sweet confection from her silky thigh, I find myself thinking of the Devore Imperium. They'd execute me for this transgression. Not for the part of me that is about to fuck her - but for the part of me that loves her. Falling in love with a gaharay? It was simply unheard of.

My mind suddenly floods with rage as I become intensely aroused. Rage at her for her beguiling nature, for playing me like a child's stringed instrument. And rage at myself for being too weak to resist her. Oh, I've seduced alien women before. Manipulated them to distract them and win their favor. But I don't touch her this way to earn her trust. I touch her because I want her - want to possess her. And my own desire infuriates me.

My rage explodes through my fist and I knock the containers of chocolate sauce and ice cream across the room, sending them spattering against the immaculate gray wall.

Before Kathryn can react, I seize her by her small hips and guide her onto all fours before me. And then with all the anger and rage inside me I enter her from behind, slamming into her until my balls are pressed into her flesh. Pounding deeper and faster with each thrust.

"Oh, God!" she cries out, clutching at the short carpet in an effort to keep her tenuous balance. I watch her breasts sway as I thrust into her, and I reach around and pinch a jiggling nipple between my fingers, twisting until she cries out in pain.

Needing to be closer to her, I lean back on my heels and turn her around. She straddles my lap, impaling herself on my painful erection. She thrusts hard, arching her back and pushing her breasts forward because she knows I love to watch her body as she rides me.

I have a history of violent sex - it is Devore nature. And Kathryn brings out such passion in me, for hatred is equally as passionate as love, that I find it difficult to suppress my sadistic tendencies. I am completely consumed in the moment, and before I even realize it, I raise my hand to strike her. But just before my palm makes contact, she begins to spasm around me and I freeze. The beauty and intensity of her face as she orgasms pulls me screaming over the edge with her, and the urge to harm her is forgotten as I thrust my seed deep inside her. As I stare at her flushed cheeks and parted lips, I am momentarily unable to move.

Suddenly and without warning, I pull her to me and kiss her with such tenderness, she is taken aback. The rage is gone. Only affection and longing remain. "You're so beautiful, Kathryn." I whisper, rocking her in my arms as if I'm afraid to let her go.

Maybe because I am.

I scoop her petite frame up in my arms and carry her to the bed. "Spend the night with me."

"Kashyk, I can't." she whispers as I lay her gently on the bed. "You know why I can't."

I sit down beside her. "Stay with me."

She shakes her head. "I have to go."

I grab her wrist as she rises from the bed. "Kathryn, please … just this one night. Just for a little while."

She hesitates, unsure. I kneel behind her and kiss my way down her bare back. "Just lie beside me for a while. I need to be near you."

Wordlessly, she slides into the bed next to me and I fold her into my arms. It strikes me as I stroke her hair, that I've never before felt such gentleness toward a woman. Peculiar, isn't it? How through all the distrust and violence, some tenderness survives.

I hold k tightly to me, my hands caressing her nude body in a way that's more affectionate than sexual. I cup her perfectly shaped breast in my hand, and even as she gently kisses my lips, I know that when I awake, she will be gone.

Tomorrow it will all be over. In the morning, I will betray her as I have no other. And she will be but a bittersweet memory, her and her sexual chocolate. It is unavoidable. It is our way.

But right now -she is mine. Curled up in my arms and running her small hands across my body. And as I listen the hushed sounds of her breathing - I put everything else out of my mind. Tomorrow will come soon enough, and then guilt and loss will be my constant companions.

But for tonight - Kathryn is mine.

All feedback Ladychakotay@yahoo.com