By Carol Sandford


Chapter 04


The wind left Will's lungs as he threw off his shoes and slumped back against his pillow and ran his hands aggitatatedly through his hair. He'd never been or felt so wound up in his life. Being a fugitive - and that was how he felt - was not something that he wanted to ever feel again. But then, he didn't want to feel so desolate ever again, either.

Seeing Deanna had unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. Damn it, she still managed to get under his skin. God, what he wouldn't do to have her beneath him again. Or even just to taste her lips. Or have her caressing his body. Or simply to have her there beside him just talking. He'd never forgotten her and he never would, and he ached at the memories that trickled through his mind.

He shouldn't have come back to Betazed. He should have said no when asked to do the band that humongous favour. But then, he reasoned, he would have done anything just to have seen her beautiful face just one more time. Just once.

And he'd seen her. And now it had cost him because he knew he was going to suffer all over again. He wondered if he had affected her in the same way. But then maybe not as she was apparently betrothed.


So maybe she hadn't missed him as much as he had missed her. Will wondered about the man that had stepped into his shoes. Unwanted images zipped through his head. Had she...?

No. Instinctively he knew that she hadn't been intimate with the guy. How could she have been? And even if she had have, it would not have been the same as what they had shared. It couldn't have been. They were Imzadi and no one else could remove him from her soul. That thought alone somewhat soothed him.

But then he remembered one fateful night not too long ago when he'd been grabbed by the need to share his body with another woman. It had been an unmitigated disaster - for him. The woman had been happy enough, but he had gone through the motions as though he were a robot. He figured he'd just need time to fully get Deanna Troi out of his head, and his imaginary bed, but even he knew he was just fooling himself. She was there to stay and he was just going to have to get used to her always being with him, even if he didn't want her to be, at least, sometimes, anyhow. Like when he was trying his damned hardest to move on with his own life, like she was clearly doing.


The dream was erotic, one of the most erotic that he had shared with his lost love. Her plum-tinged mouth moulded against his and her tongue stroked an insistent pulse that made his body move with its beat. He felt her feather-light fingers touch his face with reverence before sweeping boldly down his torso, her needed touch hampered by the clothes that he still wore. He reached his own fingers down to release the buttons that hindered her. He desperately wanted to feel her against him and as each button opened so her fingertips touched his thirsty skin. Will was on fire for her but he felt powerless to move as she brazenly straddled his lap.

He reached for her finding only silky smooth skin. But only for a moment. His searching fingers found satin and, investigating further, he found a zipper. The sound of it undoing was lost amongst the breathy sighs that cascaded from their mouths as they both hungered for what was to come.

Will pushed the luxurious fabric away from her and settled his large hands upon her now naked waist and he felt her shudder against his throat as she tugged futily at his own midnight black shirt. "Will. Imzadi. Help me."

Carnal need gave him the answer to her silent plea and he began to frantically pull at his own clothes. It wasn't until he felt the sharp pinch of his nipple that he quite suddenly became aware that something was amiss. She had never hurt him before, nor had she been fully clothed in his dreams and as quickly as the revelation came to him, Will's hands suddenly stopped their movement.

Slowly, ever so slowly Will's eyes opened. The room was cast in shadows but the woman that sat astride his lap was as real as his dream. She was there. She was really there, with him, in his hotel room, making love to him.

"Deanna?" he croaked.

"Why didn't you come and find me, Will?" She whispered huskily, her voice laced with a mixture of hurt and unquenched desire as she looked down into his startled and wary face.

Will swallowed painfully as he stared longingly into dark eyes that he never thought would see again. "You shouldn't be here, Deanna."

Deanna pushed herself away from him a little and thoughtfully trailed her fingers through the mat of hair upon his chest which was now fully exposed to her, his shirt tucked away beneath him. He suddenly felt decidedly naked, but he was no where near as naked as she.

The beautiful gown that she'd worn to the ball now lay in a puddle around her waist, revealing her naked upper torso. Will's hands itched to touch her, savour her, remember her, but inside, he just knew it would be a mistake to do so.

"Do you want me to go?" She pouted sadly, her onyx eyes instantly shimmering with tears from his rejection of her.

God, no, not tears. Will couldn't handle her tears, not back then, not now, not ever, but he had to stay strong, for both of their sakes. But even so, his hand snaked up and he caressed her damp cheek. "No. No, I don't. But..."

Deanna quickly swept down and settled her mouth upon his, cutting off any protest he was going to utter. Will moaned and reluctantly - gratefully - slid his arms around her, pulling her flush against his bare chest. The feel of her own body against his quickly wiped away any resistance that he'd had and he allowed himself to simply feel what he wanted.

And, oh, God, he wanted her, so damned much.

As they kissed the removal of their clothes became a frantic need and slowly every item that they wore soon became a forgotten mound upon the floor. When they were both completely naked Will settled Deanna along his length. Nothing had felt so right for them both. They fitted together perfectly even though he was almost a foot taller than her. But in bed, it became irrelevant. In bed, it became heaven. Sublime.

With them both free of restraint from both clothes and guilt, Will kissed her deeply and without guard. Eventually he obliviously began to roll her on to her back, but Deanna was having none of it and very forcibly moved back to how they were, moving herself up to sit upon him. Ensuring herself that he didn't accidentally try the manoeuvre again Deanna quickly pinned his hands beside his head, just to make doubly sure.

Deanna wanted to be in control of this tryst. She 'needed' to be in control. She had a lot of work to do, in more ways than one, and making sure that she had the upper hand in their love-making was the first of her goals. The second one was going to be a little harder to achieve.

As Deanna tore herself from his mouth, Will had one last try at reasoning before they both lost their minds. "Deanna," he gasped as he raised his head from the pillow in a valiant attempt to reach her lips. "Honey, your mother..."

Deanna effectively cut off his last attempt alongside dismissing her mother, Wyatt, and, the whole damn universe with her mouth and then her body as she slowly and surely lowered herself on his pulsing, waiting hardness. "Shut up, Will."

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