He climbed down into his bunk … their bunk, even though she wasn't there at the moment. She was tucked up in bed in the passenger dorm, probably asleep by now, ready for Ariel tomorrow. He’d sat up late on the bridge, not wanting to go back just yet, not wanting to feel the need so overwhelmingly to pull the covers from her body and run his hands up her flesh, cupping and caressing, hearing her call out his name as he pressed himself into her.

But even here, staring out at the stars in his sky, his body betrayed him, and he felt the heaviness building, blood engorging his veins. Laying his hand in his lap, he felt a corresponding pulse of desire.

No. Not again. He couldn’t do this. It was almost like deceiving her. But he’d said, told her he wouldn’t make her do anything until she was ready, until her body was strong enough to take what he needed to do with her, however gentle he was. But just the thought of her, naked as always, waiting for him to come back to her, even asleep, was too much.

He pressed on the hardness and groaned, throwing his head back, the tendons in his neck stretched tight. Way too much.

And now he was here, in their bunk, staring at their bed. The blankets were still crumpled from the last time he’d slept in it, so long ago now it seemed. Sitting on the edge he kicked his boots from his feet and twisted enough to lie down, pulling her pillow into his embrace. It still smelled of her, that indefinable perfume that twisted his heart into toffee and made him want to love her for eternity.

Without conscious thought he unbuttoned his pants and pushed his undershorts down, letting his manhood free from its confinement. The suddenness of the cool air on his skin made him shiver, but his eyes were closed, only seeing her in front of him, her body waiting, ready, yearning for his. With a sigh he wrapped his hand around his shaft, gently squeezing and moving his palm up to the end. He was ready too, moisture easing his movement as he circled, then slid back towards his body.

He breathed deeply, holding it, exhaling only when he had to, trying to calm the beating of his heart. He had to be in control, not let his physical need take over. Then his hand brushed across the crown of his shaft again, and the jolt that went through him made him laugh. Too late, he told himself, as his hips lifted from the bed.

Raising his head a little he placed the pillow beneath it so he could still smell her, but opened his shirt to run his fingers up his chest. His nipples were hard, small nubs that flashed fire to his vitals as he touched them.

She loved them, running her tongue across them, sucking them into her mouth, first one, then the other, playing them, teasing them until he complained from the sensations it produced. Then she’d blow air across them until he groaned with desire. His own hand pinched them, rolled them until he could take it no longer and he pushed down, past his straining erection, to cup his balls, holding them in his palm and tugging gently.

“I want you,” came a voice in his head, so real, so close he opened his eyes in astonishment. There was no-one there, and the hatch was still closed.

“Frey?” he murmured.

“Let me help.”

He lay motionless for a moment then sat up, his length against his belly, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Finally he stood, easing himself back into his pants and climbed the ladder. He had to find out if he was imagining it or whether she really had just been in his mind.

Hurrying through the darkened galley, his shirt open, his body clamouring for release, he almost ran in his bare feet down the stairs to the passenger dorm. At his doorway he stopped, not sure what he wanted to find most inside, asleep or awake. Slowly he slid the door open.

She was watching him, a secret smile on her face even as she lay with her head cushioned on the pillow.

“Was that you?” he asked, moving inside and closing them off from the rest of Serenity.

She nodded. “Mal,” she whispered, moving the sheet from her body so he could look at her, the beauty of her, even with the scars, making his flesh shout for her.

“I … I didn’t think …” He stammered to a halt.

“I can’t,” she admitted, the smile on her face a little sad. “But you need to. And I want to help.”

“Help?”

“Help you. Fulfil your need.” She ran the fingers of one hand across her breast, pausing at her nipple to stroke it gently before continuing down towards her hip. “Make it better for you.”

He felt his blood pounding. “You want to –“

“But I can’t do it alone,” she said, watching his blue eyes fill with longing. “I don’t have the strength yet.”

“Then together,” he said, stripping the constricting clothes from his body.

Her eyes flared with love as she watched her husband disrobe and lie down next to her, his swollen cock laying on her belly. She touched it gently, putting her hand around it, feeling the thick vein along its length throbbing against her fingers.

Placing his hand on top of hers, their fingers interlacing, he knew his manhood was harder than before, simply by being so close to her. “Frey,” he murmured, his breath catching.

She began to move her hand up and down, his own guiding her into a rhythm and pressure that tightened his body, pushing him towards a climax. Then she stopped.

“Frey …”

“I want to taste you,” she said, her voice throaty.

“Frey, I can’t …” He swallowed. “This ain't right.”

“Yes it is.” She smiled at him. “Now help me.”

“Please,” said her voice in his mind, teasing him.

“Oh God,” he groaned, clambering to his knees by her head. Leaning carefully on one elbow she put her hand on his hip, reaching for him, pulling him closer. Her tongue darted out to touch the tip of his cock, just pressing into the slit to milk him a little, tasting him as she moved forward enough to take the head of his penis into her mouth.

He tried not to buck against her, to thrust into that tight, hot interior, but as he looked down, seeing her dark head at his groin, her lips encircling him, he whimpered. “Frey, don’t,” he ground out shakily, pulling back so he eased out of her mouth. “I … run-tse duh fuo-tsoo.”

She looked up into his anguished face. “What do you want, Mal?”

“I … I want to be inside you.” The words forced out even as he tried to pull them back. He couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough yet, couldn’t take his body, wasn’t able to -

“Lie down,” she said, smiling softly, her voice shining with love.

“Frey, please. You can’t -”

“Lie down,” she repeated with both her voice and mind.

He stared at her for a moment, then did as she asked, sliding down next to her, half on his side. She put her hand back around his shaft, causing almost a physical shock.

“Close your eyes.”

This time he did it without being told twice.

And it wasn’t her hand, or his, or both together, but he was sheathed inside her, in her heat, her tightness around his cock. He could feel her weight above him, astride his hips, her wetness lubricating them as she rode him. He knew she was lying next to him, only her hand on him, but he was thrusting up into her, his hands on her waist, her breasts, taking her nipples into his mouth.

He didn’t care if it was illusion or not as she slid up and down his shaft, the only sound his own rapid breathing, her mews of arousal and the wet sound of flesh on flesh. Then he felt her muscles contract around him, her body shuddering to orgasm, and he could hold on no longer, coming so hard and strong inside her, calling her name over and over.

As he came down from his peak, his heart rate beginning to slow, the feeling around and above him faded, and he opened his eyes, looking directly into Freya’s. She was smiling, and reached up to move a lock of hair from his damp forehead, smoothing it back into place.

“How did you -” he began, but she put her finger to his lips, silencing him.

“I love you,” she said. “And you needed me.”

“Am I dreaming?”

“Only if we both are.”

“But you didn’t come,” he protested, putting his hand on her cheek.

“Yes, I did.” She smiled at the look of astonishment on his face. “I felt you come, and so did I.”

Mal couldn’t quite believe it. “I don’t understand,” he admitted.

For answer she took his hand and placed it between her thighs so he could feel the moisture of her release on her skin. “Just believe,” she whispered.

He looked down at where his chest and hers were splattered with his own seed. “Better clean up,” he murmured, about to get out of bed.

She put out a hand and stopped him, pulling the sheet up over both their bodies. “Tomorrow,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

He put his arm around her and moved her closer. “How did I ever manage to find someone like you?” he asked, stroking her hair.

“Just lucky, I guess,” she muttered, slipping into a natural sleep.

He smiled. “I second that,” he breathed, kissing her lips and joining her.

---