#commodore paris

“Strip.” Philippa’s voice was as cold as always. It betrayed all the horrors she was responsible for, all the lives she had taken without remorse and Afsaneh knew she should put an end to this. She should never have started fucking the woman who was but wasn’t her dead wife to begin with, because now that she had started, she found it impossible to stop. Touching her, being touched by her, it made her feel something again.

She unzipped her jacket and let it drop on the floor. Philippa raised an eyebrow. “Slowly.”

Afsaneh swallowed. She knew this game, knew it far too well, especially with her. She obeyed, getting rid of her clothes slower, giving the former emperor once again what she wanted. She wished it weren’t necessary to do it, to submit to Philippa just to get her to touch her, desperately searching for a glimpse of the woman she had lost, knowing that this Philippa would never show her that kind of love.

She wished she didn’t like it so much.

Once she was down to her underwear, not in anyway Starfleet regulation, something she had put on that morning in anticipation of this moment. Philippa’s eyes darkened, something flashing across her face that Afsaneh had come to recognize as arousal. “Did you wear that for me?”

“I did.” It was no use lying about it. They both knew what they wanted from each other. It was the only reason this worked, despite the infinite amount reasons that said this was a bad, completely fucked up idea. Nevertheless, it still caused a hint of smile that wasn’t quite as terrifying to pass over Philippa’s face.

“It’s very pretty. I almost feel honored.” The words lacked her usual sharpness and Afsaneh felt herself relax a little. This Philippa wasn’t kind, not in the slightest. She carried hatred, disdain and an utter lack of empathy in her veins, but she had learned that if she wanted to keep this improbable arrangement going, she had to treat Afsaneh with some semblance of kindness, the same way Afsaneh had learned to submit. “It’s almost too pretty to take off, but do it anyway.”

Philippa’s eyes followed every movement, her breathing getting a little faster as the bra hit the deck, followed by the scrap of lace that served as her panties. Finally, Philippa leaned forward and Afsaneh forgot how to breathe under her intense gaze. Philippa took her time, slowly dragging her eyes over every inch of her body. “So good at following orders and so beautiful.”

Her words caused a warmth to spread through Afsaneh’s body. It wasn’t anything like she had had with her Pippa, but this feeling, knowing she has pleased this other Philippa, it was good enough. It turned her on, made her want to do more for her. She wanted to please her enough that Philippa lost herself in what Afsaneh did to her, lost herself enough that she could pretend for the briefest of moments she could pretend it was her Pippa. “Kneel.”

Slowly, almost with a catlike grace, Philippa got up from the sofa and approached her. Where Pippa had been beautiful because of her warmth, her goodness, Philippa was beautiful because she was cold, calculating, scary. Her fingers brushed against Afsaneh’s cheek, slowly tilting her head up until she was looking into her eyes. “Such a good girl. Those pretty lips.”

Philppa’s thumb swiped over her bottom lip in a show of possessiveness that made Afsaneh’s spine tingle. She leaned down and for a moment, Afsaneh thought Philippa was going to break their one rule and kiss her, it wouldn’t surprise her, but then her hand slid into her hair and she tugged harshly, her mouth close to Afsaneh’s ear. “Are you going to make me feel good? Are you going to use that talented tongue?”

Afsaneh almost moaned at her tone, at her words. She could do this, she was good at this. This was what she wanted. She nodded, despite the tight grip on her hair and felt Philippa grin against her ear, before she straightened and undid the knot of her robe with one hand, allowing it to fall open. “Show me.”

It was as much the hand in her hair pushing her forward as it was Afsaneh moving voluntarily that put her face against Philippa’s pussy, her mouth opening, as if she had done it a thousand times, to lick her from entrance to clit. It always shocked her that Philippa tasted exactly the same as her wife. It made easier and impossibly harder at the same time. She heard Philippa moan and let it spur her on, working her tongue against her folds, pushing it inside, teasing her clit.

“That’s it. That’s how I like it.” Afsaneh hummed against her, letting Philippa’s words wash over her, a pleasant feeling settling between her thighs. She could feel her getting wetter, her nails scraping over Afsaneh’s scalp as she pushed her even closer and Afsaneh was happy to go, building her up in the way she knew Philippa liked, putting her tongue everywhere she could, licking her thoroughly. Philippa wasn’t much for teasing, but she didn’t want it fast and hard either when she was playing this game.

Philippa moaned and it sounded a little strained this time and Afsaneh had learned that it meant she was losing her patience. She didn’t need to order her around anymore, not for this part. She moved up, wrapping her lips around Philippa’s clit, moving her tongue against it as she sucked. Her knees were starting to ache and the grip on her hair was becoming uncomfortable. She didn’t care, not as Philippa’s hips snapped forward and her thighs trembled.

“Right there, that’s good.” The sound of her voice made Afsaneh moan against her. She loved it when Philippa let her control slip, when her noises came freely and her body moved like she hadn’t once been emperor of a brutal, intergalactic empire. She was chasing her pleasure, rolling her hips against Afsaneh’s mouth. Afsaneh wanted her to come, she needed it. She wanted to see her fall apart. She sucked harder, adding a hint of teeth.

Philippa was always shocking quiet when she came, her lips parting for a cry that never came, as her body froze for a moment before her orgasm caused her to spasm. It was beautiful to watch. For a moment she was completely caught up in something Afsaneh had done to her. And then Philippa looked down at her, her eyes as intense as ever, a rare smile on her lips that looked predatory as she pulled Afsaneh away from her pussy.

“You’re so good to me. It seems like such a waste that you’re limiting yourself. People would line up to fuck you if they only knew. But you’re my good little commodore.” Her last words were practically a purr, her hand coming to rest against Afsaneh’s cheek. Afsaneh couldn’t help but lean into her touch. Despite her slight frame, Philippa was towering over her, brushing her fingers over the wetness on her chin. “Shall I return the favor?”