Submission
short piece for J/C
vanhunks
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Janeway and Chakotay.
Summary: After the array is destroyed, Chakotay gives Kathryn an ultimatum.
vanhunks
*
"Give me one night."
His voice was soft, a hiss.
"And if I refuse?" Janeway asked, standing her ground against him.
"You'd make it easier on yourself if you complied."
She hated him. His ultimatum… She bristled; her anger flowed like thick lava inside her. They were seventy five years from home. She had lost key personnel and crew. She'd never make it home without the Maquis. Without him. He looked rugged, an animal ready to pounce and take what he wanted from her. He gave her little choice.
"You don't leave me many options."
"You have one, Janeway. One night in my bed."
Already she was aware of him. Too aware of him. She should feel trapped. She wanted to feel trapped, to feed her anger, her hatred. That way, she could write off the one night in his bed as a once only thing. Submit one night and get it over and done with.
He stood waiting. Her ready room walls were closing in on her. If she didn't fight him, he would destroy her. If she fought him, he would destroy her. His eyes were dark, brooding, victory growing in those dark depths. He wasn't going to budge. She had to submit or be taken by force. He was right. She didn't have many options.
"Fine. Just this one night," she relented.
"Good. Make it 2100."
*
That night, at 2100 she stood inside his quarters. He gave her no time to think, to fight. He advanced on her, pulled her roughly against his hard chest. Hands held her cheek, made it impossible to move her head. She inhaled him. The smell invaded her senses. Then he pulled the pins from her hair. Before her hair had even cascaded down her back, Chakotay grabbed a clump and pulled her head back. Her neck lay exposed. He breathed heavily against her face.
"Tonight you're mine."
Angry tears filled her eyes.
"What choice do I have?"
"None."
Then he kissed her, his lips burning against her mouth all the while he carried her to his bed.
She cried out his name in angry denial many times during the night as he conquered her body. Smouldering, heated, he claimed her, sent her over the edge. Her tears, angered as she bit into his flesh, were no longer the denial she screamed inside her head, but her shame at the way she responded to his mastery, his burning touches.
She fell asleep eventually, her mouth open against his neck, her body replete as it moulded to his. In the early hours of the morning she awoke to find him staring down at her, a crooked smile relieving his stern, rugged features. He caressed her hair, grazed her lips with his thumb. She had to go on duty. The two crews would join. She would make him her first officer.
"You won, Chakotay," she breathed.
The smile left his face. His hand left her hair, moved over her skin. She remembered the many times during the night those hands willed her into submission, how those hands made her skin tingle with electrifying ecstasy. She remembered her shame when he took her, how her body listened to him and not to her. Unexpectedly, against her will her body hungered for his glistening torso and hips that rode her hard and gentle and made her senses reel. Now his hands claimed their prize again, moved over her body, caressed her thighs so that she melted again into him, unable to deny what he wanted.
"Come to my bed tonight, Kathryn," he said softy, his voice brooking no protest from her. His fingers reached into her, fondling, stroking, penetrating, and her bosom began to heave and the air began to whoosh from her lungs making her breathing erratic, the passion flaring. With a sigh she slid on top of him, her eyes closing the moment he filled her to the hilt. "Tonight..." he breathed as he began to move against her.
She knew, even as her mind screamed it shouldn't be so, that he made her taste heaven and that she wanted to taste it again and again. She climaxed, crying out as she he spilled into her. In craven need she allowed him to make the demand, knowing it was never going to be necessary. As she collapsed on top of him, she knew why he wanted just one night.
It was all he needed.
And so, during the day Janeway was the captain and Chakotay her first officer. They laughed together, mulled over duty rosters together, did ship-wide inspections together. Many times they butted heads over decisions made. The crew looked upon them as their leaders and placed their faith in the command team.
It was a situation that gratified her - the newly joined crew believing in them.
At 2100 on most nights Kathryn entered his quarters, her body already greedy for his touches. She complied to Chakotay's ministering hands and mouth and lips. They would strip one another's clothes, no more surprised at her naked aggression, or his roughness when he impaled her just inside the door of his cabin. At night Chakotay claimed her body in heat, steaming, smouldering coals she could no more deny.
They never spoke much. They never spoke of love or tenderness. He knew what he wanted. She knew how to give it. Sometimes he'd murmur her name in his sleep. Sometimes she'd cry that she hated him. But always, he made love to her, made her body sing. Sometimes when he collapsed against her, he cried out her name in wonder. She relished those small moments when she felt more the conqueror than the conquered.
One night, at the height of their passion, their bodies locked together as they rocked and climaxed, Kathryn cried out "I love you".
Chakotay knew then that her submission was complete.
****