Page 49 of Technically Abducted
We settle on the seating platform with our shared meal, and Finn's reaction to the first taste is everything I hoped for. His eyes widen slightly, then close as he savors the complex flavors.
"Holy shit, Tev'ra," he says, opening his eyes to look at me. "This is incredible. It's like… every comfort food I've ever wanted, but better."
"The recipe has been refined over generations," I explain, though I'm more focused on his obvious pleasure than on the technical details. "Each family line adds modifications based on their experiences."
"So this is like… your family's version of mac and cheese?"
I'm not familiar with the reference, but his tone suggests it's significant. "A preparation that provides emotional as well as nutritional satisfaction, yes."
We eat in comfortable silence, and I find myself studying Finn's responses to each component. The way he closes his eyes when tasting something particularly appealing, the small sounds of satisfaction he makes without seeming to realize it, the way his entire posture relaxes as thevel'thaniworks its intended effects.
"I have something for dessert," Finn says when we've finished the main preparation.
He moves to the food synthesis unit, programming something I don't recognize. Soon the unit produces what appears to be small, colorful spheres and a white, fluffy substance.
"Berries," Finn explains, settling back beside me with the unfamiliar food items. "Strawberries, blackberries, raspberries. And whipped cream."
"Cream that has been… whipped?"
"Whipped into this texture, yeah. It's sweet, light. Perfect with fruit." Finn picks up one of the red spheres—a strawberry—and dips it into the white substance. "Try it."
I accept the offered food, noting how Finn watches my reaction intently. The strawberry is sweet and slightly tart,while the whipped cream adds richness and an almost ethereal texture. Together, they create a flavor combination that is pleasant but unfamiliar.
"Interesting," I say. "The contrasting textures complement each other well."
"Right? And it gets better." Finn dips another strawberry and brings it toward my mouth. "Open."
The casual intimacy of being fed catches me off guard, but I comply. This time, I'm more prepared for the flavor combination, and I can appreciate the way the sweetness balances the tartness, how the cream softens the fruit's texture.
"Good?" Finn asks, and there's something playful in his expression.
"Very good," I confirm, then reach for a berry to return the gesture. "Your turn."
When I bring the cream-covered strawberry to Finn's lips, he maintains eye contact as he bites into it, his tongue darting out to catch a small amount of cream that threatens to escape. The simple action sends heat racing through our empathic connection, and I watch his pupils dilate in response to my reaction.
"Messy," he says, licking his lips. "But worth it."
I find myself fascinated by the way the cream clings to his mouth, the unconscious way he cleans it away. "Efficient consumption methods are not always optimal."
"No," Finn agrees, reaching for another strawberry. "Sometimes the mess is part of the appeal."
This time when he feeds me, a small amount of cream transfers to my lips. Instead of cleaning it away efficiently, I watch Finn's gaze focus on my mouth with obvious interest.
"You have…" he starts, then seems to lose his train of thought.
"What?"
Instead of answering with words, Finn leans closer and kisses me. His tongue traces along my lower lip, collecting the cream while sending sparks of sensation through our empathic connection. What begins as playful food sharing rapidly transforms into something much more heated.
"Definitely better than efficient," I murmur against his mouth.
"Much better," Finn agrees, then picks up another berry. "Though we should probably finish these before they go to waste."
What follows is an education in sensual food consumption that our research parameters definitely failed to anticipate. Berry feeding becomes an excuse for lingering kisses, with cream transferred deliberately between our mouths. Finn dips strawberries and traces them along my throat, my collarbone, following the path with his tongue until I'm shaking with need. When I return the favor, painting berry juice across his chest and licking it clean, his moan sends fire through our empathic connection.
"Fuck, Tev'ra," Finn breathes, watching me clean the last traces of sweetness from his skin. "You're going to kill me."
"The empathic feedback suggests you're very much alive," I murmur against his throat, nipping gently at the sensitive skin there.
