In the Dead of the Night
by Antigone

"So come in my arms
I strike any hour
I will return
To trap and devour.
In the dead of the night, love bites."
-- Judas Priest, "Love Bites"

The Mon Remonda was silent as it floated through space. Most of its occupants and crew were in their bunks, waiting for the next day of the fruitless search for Zsinj. No one patrolled the corridors of the officer's quarters.

She slipped silently down the hall, a ghostly figure in gray fatigues.

She was slender, pretty, with light brown hair. She'd taken it out of her customary braid and it spilled to the middle of her back. The woman's lips curled up as she thought of the way her lover would gather it in his hands, holding her face close as he kissed her. She paused at one of the doors and tapped a code into the keypad. The door slid open with a quiet whoosh and shut behind her again.

Breathing heavily, the woman felt her way across the common room until she reached a sofa. Slowly, silently, she slipped off her boots and wriggled out of her clothing, leaving them draped over the arm of the couch. She'd retrieve them when she left; no sense taking them off in the bunkroom where she might wake him... or his bunkmate.

Keeping one hand on the sofa back, she moved to the other side of the room, then reached out and felt for the wall. Three steps to the right and she found another door, this one partially open.

She pushed it open just far enough for her to squeeze through, then held her breath until she reached the far wall, biting back a curse when she almost tripped on what felt like a rifle case. Men. Can't be bothered to pick up after themselves.

Reaching out, she felt for the switch that would turn on the floor-level nightlamp.

I know it's here somewhere... it should be just like in my quarters. Straight back to the sofa, right to the wall, couple of steps to the bunkroom door, nightlamp on the far wall... Aha!

She screamed as cold jets of water hit her bare skin and cursed when her feet slipped on the suddenly slick floor. Landing in a heap, she felt her ankle turn and frantically slapped at the shower controls, hoping that no one heard her.

The sound of male voices and pounding feet made her feel around for a towel, but to no avail. She pulled her knees up to her chest and stared at the light now spilling in through the crack in the door, daring anyone to enter.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice called and a hand gripped the edge of the door.

"Open that door and I'll skin you alive, CorSec."

"Inyri?"

She was silent, letting the pair draw their own conclusions. Inyri cringed when they burst into raucous laughter. A face appeared in the crack, its usually mournful expression replaced by a gleeful grin.

"Can I come in?" the man asked, his eyes picking the fallen woman's form out of the gloom.

She sighed. "Suit yourself."

"Ooh, can I come in too, Inyri?"

"Go play in the maw, Corran!"

The second man slipped in and shut the door, cutting off the Corellian's laughter. For a second darkness reigned, then light flooded the `fresher unit and Inyri looked up to see the man standing with his hand on the switch, wearing nothing but a pair of thin sleep pants that hung low on his narrow hips.

"Hey, Hobbie," she said weakly.

The man shook his head, fighting back laughter and failing. When he got himself under control, he reached into a cabinet and got a towel.

Handing it to her, Hobbie cleared his throat and grinned.

"Is your shower broken?"

"Shaddup." Inyri grabbed the towel with one hand and draped it over herself. "Can you give me another for my hair?" she asked sweetly.

"You can use that one on your hair," he replied with a rakish smirk. Leaning against the door, the man crossed his arms over his bare chest. "What are you doing in here?"

"Sneaking into your bed." She shivered as the cool air finally penetrated the blushing heat of her skin. "I thought your quarters were set up just like mine."

"Pretty much," he agreed. "But yours are stern-side. It's the opposite way over here."

She considered that, then hung her head. "Sithspit."

Hobbie frowned as she shivered again and held out his hand. "Stand up."

Inyri clutched at the towel and he sighed. "I've seen you before, love."

"That was different." But she took his hand, yelping as she put weight onto her left ankle. Hobbie knelt beside her, concerned. "I think I twisted it when I fell."

"Put your arms around my neck," the man ordered, then lifted her into his arms and sat her on the counter next to the sink. Inyri bit her lip as he knelt in front of her, gently moving her foot around. She winced and he stood up and kissed her forehead.

"You're a mess, kid." The woman bit her lip and he kissed her again before leaning down to retrieve the towel. "But it was a nice thought."

His lips quirked into a smile and he twined a lock of her dripping hair around his fingers. He draped the towel over her head and rubbed gently, gathering her hair into a knot and squeezing the water out of it.

Inyri closed her eyes as he began to dry her face. His tough was so gentle, so mild that she relaxed and forgot her chill. He moved down to her shoulders, working silently, moving to stand between her legs as he dried her back. She felt him stop, then the rough fabric of the towel brushed over her breasts.

She moved involuntarily, closing her thighs around his waist. Hobbie made a small, choked sound and paused, leaning on the counter, his hands on either side of her. Inyri opened her eyes and smiled slightly as she saw a lock of his usually neat hair tumbling over his forehead. She brushed it back and he sighed, kissing her neck as he began to stroke her with the towel.

His tender caress sent a jolt through her body. Hobbie lifted the right breast, drying the underside before he kissed the soft, rounded top and moved on to the other. She inhaled sharply and arched against his mouth and he obliged her, leaving perfectly red circles on her skin as he kissed and suckled her. He sank to his knees between her legs, moving the towel over her stomach, lower, so gently brushing her curls...

A groan ripped from her throat when he moved to her legs, skipping her inner thighs. Hobbie wore an impish smile as he rubbed her calves and ankles, and Inyri tangled her fingers in his hair to make him look up at her.

"You missed a spot."

His crystal-blue eyes glittered. "I have plans for that spot, none of which include drying it off."

Her breath caught and she nodded dumbly, staring at the substantial bulge in his boxers. He grinned devilishly and nipped at her ankle, licking away the sting. His hands moved up her legs, squeezing the soft flesh of her inner thighs as he kissed his way to her dripping center.

Inyri gasped and shut her eyes as his hand moved between her legs, pinching her swollen lips as his tongue sought the source of her dampness. She pulled his hair, holding him against her as he probed and licked, bringing her quickly to he edge, then backing away. Hobbie tasted her slowly then, delving into her core until her body trembled and she sobbed in agony.

She didn't know when he stood. Her arms were locked around his neck as his mouth captured her, his tongue invading and unselfishly sharing her flavor. Her body was whirling and sinking in the bow waves of delight that spread through her limbs and as she rocked against his hand, he slid two fingers into her, testing her readiness and driving her on.

His cock, hot and hard, bumped against her thigh and Inyri reached between them to stroke him. Hobbie grunted against her mouth and pushed into her hand. She knew that he wanted her to beg, that he could keep her on the edge, toying with her until she wept and thrashed and screamed for release.

Hobbie tore his mouth from hers and growled, "Say it."

"He'll hear," she whimpered, thinking of Corran.

"Let him." And his voice was harsher as his thumb brushed her clit.

"Yes!" Her control wavered. His hand moved again, fingers sliding against her sweet spot. "Oh... Sith, Hobbie..."

She moaned and looked into his blazing, relentless eyes. "Fuck me," she whispered, then louder-- "Fuck me!"

Her scream was matched by his shout of triumph as he conquered her, plunging in hard enough to scoot her back on the counter. No kindness, no gentleness now-- he was mad for her. Inyri felt his left arm wrap around her waist like an iron band, pulling her tight against him as he braced himself with his right hand on the mirror behind them. He thrust hard and fast, his cock filling her, splitting her, and her sheath clamped down on him as she came.

"Oh gods... oh, woman..." He shuddered, his large hand splayed and spasming against her back.

Her hands slid to his ass, pulling him hard against her. Her fingernails broke the skin and a scream tore from his throat as he spilled into her, hurling her into the stratosphere once more. She felt his heat bathe her and she trembled, laying her head on his shoulder, drowning in his scent, his nearness, until he softened and withdrew.

Hobbie sighed contentedly and stroked her hair, letting the damp coils spill through his fingers. His hands were gentle again as he tilted her face upward and tenderly kissed her lips. "How do you do this to me?" he murmured. "You drive me wild."

She chuckled and pulled back, looking into his eyes. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you."

Her lover smiled and kissed her again. His hands slowly massaged her shoulders, then he stepped back and looked at her sitting naked and wet on the counter.

"Shower?" Hobbie canted his head to one side.

Inyri spread her hands. "I don't think I can stand."

"I'll hold you."

"Will you?"

"Always."


Finis


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