Simon walked through the common area towards their room, his heart beating wildly in his chest. What was he doing? For that matter, what was Kaylee doing? He’d told her to strip naked, wait for him, but what if she’d thought better of it? Maybe thought he was being too pushy, trying to be something he wasn't … He paused at the entrance to the room. What if she wasn't there?

He slid open the door.

There she was, lying on their bed, her head on the pillow. Her hands were making little pyramids of the sheet beneath her, and her toes were curling and uncurling, her feet rubbing together. And between, her bare flesh was glowing in the light, scorching him. Already her nipples were hard peaks, tipped strawberry.

“Thought you weren't coming,” she complained, smiling at him.

“Hush,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “You’re not to speak. Not until I tell you.”

“But I –“

He put a finger to his lips. “Quiet.”

She closed her mouth and looked at him with shining eyes. She wriggled slightly, making her breasts move.

“Lie still,” he ordered. No, he couldn’t do this if she was gazing at him like that. He’d never be able to control himself if he could drown in those eyes. He pulled open one of the drawers and found what he was looking for. Turning back he ran the silk scarf he’d bought her for her last birthday through his fingers, and Kaylee trembled.

He leaned over her, careful not to touch her, not yet, and wrapped the scarf around her head, her eyes well covered, but leaving just one layer over her mouth. Lifting the layer to make sure she was going to be able to breathe, he leaned a little closer and touched her lips with his. Her head lifted, trying to prolong the kiss, her tongue reaching for his, but he pulled back.

“Simon …” she said.

This time he touched her lips with his finger. “No. You don’t talk. Or I’ll go away. Understand?”

She nodded, a little stiffly, and lay back.

“There are rules,” Simon went on. “My rules. You are to be quiet. No words. No sounds. You are to be as quiet as possible. Even when I touch you –“ He ran a finger lightly over her left nipple, and she shuddered. “ – you are to stay quiet. And you don’t move.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough so she could feel his heat, but far enough so that not one square inch of her was in contact with him. “And there is one final rule. You don’t come until I tell you.”

Her mouth opened to protest, but she stopped herself. Afraid he might do as he threatened and leave. Instead she nodded again.

“Good. Good girl,” he said approvingly, moving the single layer of silk back across her lips.

He leaned across her, putting one hand on the other side of her body to support himself, looking at her. The way her perfect breasts, larger now that she was feeding Bethany, were so firm, sitting high on her ribs, the pink aureole so like her favourite fruit. Another time he’d buy some strawberries, crush them onto her skin just so he could lick the juice and pulp from it, but that would have to wait.

He moved down, noting the fine hair on her belly, almost blonde, a thin line pointing towards her pubis. She still had a rounded shape, no matter how many sit-ups she did in the engine room, the result of carrying his child for nearly nine months, and he loved it. He didn’t love so much the fine line that ran across her from hip bone to hip bone, but it was fading. Soon there’d be no sign of the operation that saved both their lives.

He moved further, down to the trimmed thatch that curled at the top of her thighs. He breathed out, watching the hair move, and he heard her whimper, a sound she snatched back immediately. He smiled. She was trying so hard. He knew she would already be wet, her juices moistening her, lubricating her ready for him. It embarrassed her, sometimes, when she realised just how much she produced, but he told her it was because she loved him. Actually he felt flattered that she wanted him so much.

He slid back down the bed to get a better angle. Her labia were plump, engorged with blood, pouting from beneath the hair. Lifting his left hand from the bed, he placed his forefinger at the top of the crease and pushed in. She gasped and he could feel her wanting to push her hips up off the bed, but she was trying to restrain herself, gripping at the sheet.

“Lie still,” he said, his voice husky. “Or I’ll stop.”

He waited until she forced her body to behave, then pressed in further. It was so hot in there, such soft pressure around his fingertip, as he moved up to the heart of Kaylee. He found her clitoris, a swollen, hard nub, aching to be touched and rubbed. He pressed slightly onto it and was rewarded by her whole body jerking.

“You don’t come,” he repeated. “Not until I tell you.”

With his right hand he moved her legs apart slightly, feeling the muscles in her thighs tensing, wanting to help, to open up entirely to him, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead he made small circular movements with his finger, moving around the sensitive nerve endings of her clit, not touching it again, no matter how much he knew she wanted it.

A blush had flushed across Kaylee’s breasts, pinking her skin as she became more and more aroused. He watched it cross her skin, and he smiled. He eased himself slightly, loosening the collar of his shirt. There was something very erotic about pleasuring Kaylee while he was still fully clothed. His erection was almost painful inside his pants, but he wasn't going to undress, not yet. He was in control, and if that meant he had to wait, then he would wait. His own body wasn't going to win. Not yet.

“Kaylee, you are so beautiful,” he whispered. “The softness of your breasts, the hot wetness of your core, and I so love to feel you moving beneath me.”

Keeping his thumb moving round and round, he let his fingers slip down her slick folds, finding her opening, drenched with her juices. He pressed, feeling his finger slip inside, moving it in and out, each time pushing further. A second finger joined the first, feeling the mouth of her vagina stretching.

Kaylee mewed, and he smiled as he saw her biting down on her lip through the scarf. She was being so good, trying so hard not to move, not to make a sound. It had to be so difficult for her, being the sexual woman that she was, and yet she was doing what he told her.

It was almost too much for him, but he wanted to take her to the edge, hold her there until he decided. “I love to look at you,” he said, “between your thighs, so rosy, plump, gorgeous.”

He leaned forward, licking at her nipple, then blowing gently, seeing the skin pucker. Kaylee breathed in sharply. He took her nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, rolling it between his teeth and biting gently as he pressed a third finger inside her, sliding inside easily on the thick sap flowing over his hand. Her head thrashed a little as he hooked his fingers, touching the sweet spot on the front wall of her vagina, and felt the muscles begin to throb. With his thumb he began to thrum her clit, feeling corresponding contractions start around his hand.

He stopped all movement, and Kaylee almost shouted in frustration.

He waited for what seemed an age, then began to move his hand slowly inside her, returning to his ministrations of her clit and her nipple. She moaned in the base of her throat.

He looked up into her face, her nipple held between his teeth, pulling firmly. Kaylee was panting so hard from her arousal, and from her increasingly erratic attempts to do what he told her and keep still and not make a sound, that the silk above her lips was soaking wet, and with every breath she drew it further into her open mouth. He couldn’t have that, he thought. It might hurt her, and he’d never do that.

His right hand still buried in her hot, hard, wet depths, moving faster and deeper with every thrust, he reached up and pulled the scarf from her face. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, the tendons in her neck so taut he was afraid they might snap. Enough.

Climbing carefully onto the bed, he kneeled either side of her thighs, pushing his hand deeper inside her core, filling every inch he could of her.

Covering her body with his, he put his mouth to hers and whispered, “Come for me, Kaylee.”

It was all the permission she needed. Her back arched, her hips thrusting upwards into his, her internal muscles gripping his hand as wave after wave of spasm wrenched through her, her thighs clenched tightly, her mouth open in a soundless cry as she obeyed him and came.

He watched her face relax, her thighs slip open, and he gently removed his hand from inside her, running a single finger up to the sensitised nub of her clit and feeling a last tremor thrill through her.

She opened her eyes. “I love you, Simon,” she said, putting her arms around him and holding him close. “Am I allowed to say that now?”

“I love you too, Kaylee,” he replied, stroking her damp hair, his body still pressed against her naked skin.

She let go with one hand and reached down between them, feeling the outline of his swollen cock so clearly through the straining fabric of his pants. He groaned slightly. “I think we need to do something about that, don’t you?” she asked, smiling.

“Whatever you say,” he said, rolling onto his back, still holding her to him.

She grinned and slid her legs apart either side of his hips, her personal lube soaking into his trousers. Grinding herself against him, she was rewarded by a moan. She undid his shirt, running her hands up his smooth skin.

“I don’t know what people mean, going on about hairy chests,” she said conversationally, biting at his nipples, first one, then the other. “Even Freya talks about loving the few hairs the Cap’n has.”

“Kaylee,” Simon groaned. “Do you have to? Maybe I shouldn’t have rescinded the ‘no talking’ rule.”

“I was only meaning that I love your chest. So manly. Don’t need no hair on it.” She grinned and licked down his belly, defining the muscles with her tongue, right to the edge of his pants. She pushed the fabric down, just a little, allowing the head of Simon’s cock to appear. Darting like a sensual snake, she touched the top of her tongue to his slit, tasting the salty pre-cum.

“Kaylee …” he pleaded.

In response she moved a little lower, undoing his pants and pushing his underwear down to free his cock. It leaped free, almost with a life of its own, and she gazed at it, her eyes lascivious. Putting her hand between his thighs, cupping his balls, she lowered her mouth onto it, keeping her lips wide so he could barely feel her. Then she enclosed him, her tongue pressing gently into the slit, and he wanted to thrust upwards. Sucking, holding him deeply in her mouth, she began to move up and down, letting her teeth just graze the ridge.

“Kaylee …” he said again, trying to hold back. “Please …”

“What?” she asked, releasing him just long enough to glance into his eyes before taking his cock into her mouth again.

He realised she was rubbing herself on his legs, her still swollen folds leaving glistening streaks on the fabric. “Inside you …” he managed to say, holding onto his self control by a whisker.

She let his penis fall from her lips, and grinned. Lifting her hips, she opened her legs wide, allowing him a glimpse of the rose-red flesh she was about to impale with him, and he almost came there and then. Instead, he bit his lip, watching her position herself over him, holding his shaft so that the head of his cock rubbed along her. She sighed in contentment, jerking just a little as it touched her clit. Then she moved just enough so that it touched her opening, and with a look of exquisite pleasure lowered herself onto him. She began to move, slowly at first, then with more power and speed.

He didn’t mind not being in control all the time, sometimes being the one on the bottom. Sometimes it was nice to just lay back and let someone else take charge. And she was so good at it. But with her above him, moving up and down on his shaft, her moisture running down onto his hips, her hands massaging her own breasts, she was magnificent.

There was nothing wrong with his manhood, not when he could be like this, so deep in Kaylee that he never wanted to leave, when he could make her look like this, all wanton and voluptuous. He watched her ride him, felt her tightening around his cock, so hot, so deep, then slipped a hand between them to massage the bundle of nerves he found there, the other pressing into the gap between her breasts. She threw her head back and he watched her as she orgasmed again, her core convulsing on him, and it tipped him over the edge, his hips thrusting upwards, burying himself deep inside her, his thick cum bathing her insides as he came with her.

She collapsed bonelessly onto his chest, her hair in his face, and sighed. “Oh, Simon …” she said.

“Kaylee,” he said into her ear, feeling himself softening inside her. He didn’t want to leave her, so he rolled her gently onto her side, still joined to her. She put her head on his chest, her breathing changing as she slipped into an exhausted sleep.

He smiled. It really didn’t matter, he thought, if the mental image of him and the captain ever came up again. Not when he had something like this to replace it with. He closed his eyes and let all his worries drift away.