Nucleus 1: The Dust of Moon [Mature Sci-fi Romance]

Mars Standard Time: 07:07, May 11, 2295 (Earth Day Equivalent)

Conference Room 6, 9th Floor, Ironsides VII, Terra Alliance Aegis battlecruiser

Xin's hands trembled slightly at Lorna's shoulders—not from nerves but from want he'd been suppressing for days. The beige trench slid down, revealing how the turtleneck hugged every curve. Without the coat's weight, she drifted backward until his hand caught her waist, fingers spreading across her lower back.

"This another…what you call surprise inspection?" His voice came out rougher than intended.

Her pupils dilated, the blue of her irises darkening. "Something like that." Her palms pressed flat against his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall. "Need to make sure my partner is... properly equipped."

"Equipped?" His thumbs found the gap between her turtleneck and tactical pants, brushing skin that made her breath catch.

Her nails scraped lightly through his undershirt as they rotated in the low gravity, legs tangling. He could feel the heat of her even through their clothes, smell her shampoo—the familiar lavender, no doubt a variant she'd found in the ship's supply depot. "I think we need to be more thorough."

The pendant swung between them as she pulled him down, its crystal catching the light. Her lips were inches from his, breath mingling in the recycled air. He could see her collarbone, and the way her pulse fluttered in her throat.

"Thorough…" she repeated, and closed the distance.

The kiss wasn't gentle. A month of careful control shattered as she bit his lower lip, hands fisting in his undershirt. He pressed her against the wall to stop their spinning, feeling every curve against him, the soft fullness of her breasts. She made a sound—half gasp, half growl—that shot straight through him.

When they broke apart, her lipstick was smudged, pupils blown wide. His glasses sat crooked, fogged at the edges. They were both breathing hard, the sound filling the room.

"Lock," she said, voice wrecked. "Now."

His hand slapped the control panel, magnetic locks engaging with a definitive click. The 'Do Not Disturb' icon blazed red.

"Good." She pushed off the wall, floating towards him. "Now…take off your shirt."

"Lorna—we both have the Nucleus Virus!" He whispered nervously, but his body betrayed him. He wanted to be intimate with her, especially now.

"Exactly why we can do it without harm." She kicked away her military boots, revealing the gray socks beneath.

"How are you so sure?"

"Read my pa's notes last week. Apparently, all virus strains ward off one another in the human body. Some can even kill Radi-Mons." She used his shoulders for leverage. In the low gravity, the motion sent them both drifting toward the conference table.

"That's amazing. Wow…" He paused, unsure how to finish. He'd always wanted this. Wanted to explore her in ways he'd only dream about.

"Just obey me. Let it happen." Her smile undercut any authority or threat, her hands already pulling at the hem of his undershirt.

He helped her peel it off, the fabric catching on his glasses. She fixed them for him, fingers lingering on his temples before trailing down. Her touch mapped new muscle, old scars from their adventures, the place above his heart where Skarn's claws had nearly killed him.

"You smell different today. All…smokey." she murmured, appreciation clear in her voice. "Is it the Rakshasa strain?"

"Probably just the smoked salmon I ate for dinner. 3rd time this week." He replied.

"Xin, putting that much salt in your body is a bad idea!" She protested.

"Well, it's got vitamins and omega-3 fatty acids. Besides, Håkon likes it, too." His hands found her waist again, thumbs stroking through fabric. "Can I...?"

She raised her arms in answer. The turtleneck came off slowly, revealing the canvas of pale skin, the lack of a bra did nothing to hide her fuller figure. Her pendant swung free, blue crystal pulsing with her heartbeat. "Excited?" She teased.

"Yeah…well…" Xin marveled at her. The body that had birthed a Radi-Mon child, survived impossible odds, carried changes she was still adjusting to.

And her pair of snowy mounds were the most glorious things he'd seen since leaving Earth.

"Very excited," he said simply, and meant it.

She pulled him close, skin against skin now, the contact electric in the climate-controlled air. Her lips found his throat, teeth grazing where his pulse hammered. He groaned, hands tangling in her hair, loosening the ponytail she always wore for missions.

"It's a special day for me, you know?" She suddenly said.

"Special?" He replied automatically.

"Yeah. So…I don't know, do whatever you want." she whispered against his skin. "Make me feel special."

"Well…I want to…" He lifted her—easier in the low gravity—and set her on the conference table. Her ivory legs wrapped around his olive waist, holding him there. "I want to taste you...."

Lorna moaned as Xin's lips found her breasts, his mouth on her skin. He began by kissing the soft mounds, his tongue teasing the valley between them, before moving up to lavish attention on her nipples. Xin's lips closed around one taut peak, sucking gently at first and then with increasing pressure as Lorna arched her back, urging him on.

Meanwhile, Lorna's own hand drifted downwards, seeking out the bulge in Xin's pants. She unbuttoned his trousers and slid her hand inside his white underwear, wrapping her fingers around his hardening cock. Xin moaned into her breast as she began to stroke him in time with the rhythm of his suckling.

Xin closed his eyes, savoring the taste of Lorna's skin and the feel of her body pressed against his. The lavender fragrance of her neck mingled with the musky scent of their sweat-drenched bodies in the enclosed space of the conference room. His tongue flicked over Lorna's nipple now, teasing it into a stiff peak before he took it between his teeth and sucked just as hungrily as he had its twin.

Lorna gasped aloud, bucking against Xin's face before sighing, sounding disappointed. "That's it?"

"I want to….kiss you, but…" His response was hesitant, but his beating heart fueled him. "down there, between your legs—"

Instead of words, she simply reached out one hand to take off his glasses, letting it drift away as she guided his hand to her belt. Heat raced through him. The analytical part of his mind—the coder, the engineer, the cerebrator—shut down entirely.

Lorna's breathing quickened, her hands fumbling with the zipper of her pants. With a sharp hiss, the zipper came down, and she kicked off her pants impatiently. Xin's eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of Lorna's underwear—a black lace thong already damp with anticipation.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" She grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him closer, pressing his face into the soft fabric. Xin inhaled deeply, his nostrils filled with the scent of her crotch: salty tang mingled with something else, something pungent that made him curious. It was the most haunting, raw smell he could imagine. He wanted to find out what the mixture was.

Lorna moaned as he tentatively licked at the fabric, tracing the outline of her folds through the damp barrier. His tongue flicked out again and again, savoring each drop that soaked through to tease his eager taste buds.

Xin couldn't help but wonder if he could keep this delicious memento—a souvenir to remind him of this moment when they were finally together—but before he could voice his request...

Lorna hooked her thumbs into the lace edges of her underwear. With a teasing smile, she slowly slid them down her legs, the damp fabric catching slightly on her thighs. Tossing the discarded garment aside, she lay back on the conference table, her legs parting in an invitation as clear as her pendant's sapphire glow. Xin rose to watch.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

The sight of her, naked, wanton yet divine before him—her golden hair fanned out against the polished surface, her pale breasts, waist, and tummy in the soft light of the room. The blue crystal of her pendant casting a soft glow over her naked form.

Xin's gaze was drawn to the apex of her thighs, where the neatly trimmed golden curls barely veiled the glistening pink flesh beneath.

He stepped forward, his hands finding her hips as he positioned himself between her legs. Lorna's breath caught as Xin leaned in, his breath ghosting over her womanhood.

With a reverence that was almost like worship, Xin lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss her smooth inner thigh. Lorna shuddered beneath him, her fingers curling into the edge of the table as his lips moved closer to her center.

His tongue darted out, tentatively tasting her. Her clit was like a nectar: it tasted like piss, like sweat, like baked abalone, like all the pent-up longing they'd both been carrying since boarding Ironsides VII. As he began eating her out, another layer of odor emanated from Lorna—whether it was something her depths or the pheromones on her pubes, Xin did not know—they aroused him all the same.

He backed off for just a moment before tilting his head to plant an affectionate kiss on her labia, savoring her tender foldslike they were another set of her lips—only, instead of her colorless lipsticks' oiled, smooth texture, it was natural meat, wet and raw.

"Xin, don't bail on me now!" Lorna's protest rang out, lustful and melodious. "I haven't even cummed yet!"

Trapped in the warmth between her thighs, Xin chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

"And don't call me 'ma'am'!" She teased back. "I'm just turning 29 today…"

"You what?" He stopped, looking up at her, his dark brown eyes meeting her sapphire blue. "29th birthday?"

"Yeah. No celebration, though. Not even a tiny birthday cake." Lorna sighed, less pleasure in her voice now. Her eyes seemed to dim, sadness lingering in her twin blue oceans before something more primal and daring replaced it. "Make. Me. Squirt. That's the gift I want."

Xin paused and calculated. It was a little past seven. They had over twelve hours before the day ended. Perhaps between or after missions, he could arrange something…surely the other teammates would want her happy, too?

"Well? You gonna leave me hanging?" Her voice rose, laced with impatience.

"No. I'd gladly…" He didn't finish. The scent of her crotch pulled him back in. Burying his face between her thighs, he began suckling her nectar once more, humming against her. Another minute passed before the vibrations of Lorna's bigger and stronger body began sending a jolt of pleasure through his smaller form.

Encouraged by her response, Xin grew bolder, his tongue delving deeper, exploring her folds and tracing the contours of her swollen clit. Lorna's hips bucked against his mouth, her moans echoing off the walls of the conference room.

Xin's hands slid beneath her, cupping the firm globes of her ass and pulling her even closer. Intimate minutes passed as his worked tirelessly, lapping at her wetness and sucking gently on Lorna's clit, her body writhing, her muscled yet delicate set of legs wrapping around his torso, holding him in sweet captivity. He wished they could stay like this for an entire morning.

Then, her breath became short, her moans louder and more desperate.

"Don't—stop—I'm so close—" she panted, her body tense with anticipation.

Xin redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking over her engorged clit with a steady rhythm. Lorna's body convulsed, her back arching off the table as she cried out, trembling and gasping for breath. Her inner muscles clenching around Xin's tongue as her thighs held his neck.

"Fuck—!" Her juices gushed forth, filling his mouth with a torrent of her essence. Xin closed his eyes, savoring the moment as he swallowed every drop.

The taste of Lorna's release was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was bitter, foul yet arousing—feminine urine, a layer of slight ammonia and something with an earthy undertone that reminded him of loamy soil. The more he swallowed, the more he craved—the unique flavor from deep inside her canal intoxicating him like a fine wine.

Xin continued to suckle at her clit, drawing out every last drop as Lorna's moans echoed off the walls of the conference room. Her juices flowed like a river, coating his chin and dripping onto his chest. He didn't care about the mess; all that mattered was the connection they shared in this moment—the intimacy they had finally allowed themselves to experience after so long.

"Fuck…" Lorna's breathing began to slow, her body relaxing from its rigid arch back onto the tabletop.

Xin reluctantly pulled away from her wetness, his face glistening.

He slowly withdrew, planting a tender kiss on her inner thigh before straightening up. He looked down at Lorna, her eyes closed, snowy body flushed and slick with sweat, her golden hair tangled and wild. He watched through half-lidded eyes, a contented smile playing on his lips. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah…okay." Lorna's eyes fluttered open, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she rose from the table to gaze up at him. "You want my thong? A few guys did after their first time with me..." she murmured, her voice hoarse with pleasure.

A few guys. Xin let the statement slip from his mind and returned her smile, feeling his chest tightening at her words. He didn't know how many other men she'd been with before him. But he sincerely wished he would be her last.

He reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "It was nice…" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lorna sat up, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "You did good," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with post-coitus affection. "Not every guy can make me squirt."

"Would you like something special? For your birthday?" He blurted out, watching her stretch in the low gravity.

"Not really. You already gave me something special." Lorna flexed, pushing off from the conference table in a graceful arc. She caught her black thong mid-drift, somersaulting as she slipped it on, then pushed off the wall to snag her military pants and his gray undershirt floating nearby. She tossed the shirt his way with practiced ease. His glasses, along with his white jacket and her beige trench coat, still drifted lazily near the far wall.

"No, I mean, it's your day. People should celebrate it."

"I'm past that phase." She pulled on her pants with efficient movements. "Everyone has bigger concerns than the day I was born." She grabbed a box of military-grade wet wipes from the wall dispenser, methodically cleaning the conference table—erasing sweat marks, dried droplets of her fluid, the fog of their breath on the polished surface.

The intercom crackled to life, Diego's voice filling the room.

"Buenos días, people. Breakfast and mission briefing at oh-eight-hundred hours, Earth Standard. That's..." A pause. "Thirty minutes from now, for those still waking up. We got fresh huevos—real ones today, not the powdered mierda—and intel from our Mars recon drones. Don't be late, ¿sí?"

The intercom clicked off.

Lorna pulled another wipe from the dispenser, turning to Xin. "Come here."

He drifted closer, steadying himself with a hand on her hip as she cleaned his face with surprising gentleness. The wipe was cool against his flushed skin.

"You've got..." She dabbed at his chest where her essence had dripped earlier. "There."

His free hand found her breast, palm brushing the soft curve of her mound, protectively, almost reverently. "We should do something. Even if it's small."

"Xin, I told you…"

"A cake. Maybe some drinks after the mission." He watched her reflection in the conference room's dark viewscreen. "Nothing big, you know."

"We're landing on a hostile planet in a few hours." But her hand lingered on his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns. "There's no time."

"There's always time." He caught her hand. "One hour, maybe. That's all."

She pulled away, but not quickly. Not like she meant it. "Hey…want to help me with this?"

He took her deep navy turtleneck, holding it so she could slip her arms through. The fabric clung to her still-damp skin, outlining every curve. His fingers found the zipper of her attire, drawing it up slowly. The metallic whisper seemed loud in the quiet room.

"Your hair's still wet," he murmured, catching a damp blonde strand.

"Low gravity perspiration. It's different." But she leaned into his touch for just a moment. "You smell like my lavender now."

"And you smell like..." He breathed in. "Sweat and my determination."

"Romantic." But she smiled as she backed away, swift and decisve like the Psi Lynx she was, her features softening.

She pulled on her boots with efficiency, then shrugged into her beige trench coat in one smooth motion. The transformation was instant—Lorna Weiss, SIMU operative, ready for duty.

"Remember your jacket." She nodded to where it floated. "Don't be late."

He caught it, the white ballistic weave still warm from earlier. "So, about today—"

"Oh-Eight hundred hours, Xin." She keyed the door release. "That's an order."

The door hissed open and she was gone, leaving him alone with the lingering scent of lavender and sex.

Xin fastened his jacket, then activated his Quantum Watch. Diego's hologram materialized, already in his signature business suit.

"¿Qué pasó, hermano? You look..." Diego's eyebrow rose. "Satisfied."

"Diego. I'd like a favor."

"Ay, Dios. What kind of favor?"

"Birthday supplies. Cake, decorations, whatever you can find in the depot."

Diego laughed, a full belly laugh that made his hologram flicker. "¿En serio? We're about to assault a Radi-Mon stronghold and you're planning a fiesta?"

"It's important."

"Director Otis will have our heads if he finds out we're raiding supplies for—"

"Well, it's for Lorna. Today's her birthday."

Diego's expression shifted. "Ah. La jefa's birthday." He stroked his chin, thinking. "There might be something in the officer's mess supplies. Emergency morale provisions. But we'd have to wait until after today's mission, sí? Can't have the birthday girl getting suspicious."

"After the mission works."

"Bueno. I'll see what I can—" Diego's hologram turned, listening to something off-screen. "Mierda, got to go. Nikki needs the morning medical reports. But Xin?"

"Yes?"

"Good man, remembering her day. She needs this, even if she won't admit it."

The hologram vanished, leaving Xin alone with his plans. A few hours until Mars. But soon, they'd give Lorna something she claimed not to want but clearly needed. Proof that she mattered beyond the mission, beyond the war.

He straightened his jacket and headed for the door. Thirty minutes until briefing. Just enough time to shower and wash off the scent of their morning, though part of him wanted to keep it—lavender mixed with the ammonia smell that she'd squirted—evidence that despite everything waiting below on Mars, they belonged to each other.