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*yawn*
i die now.
Teal'c/Jenna Stannis, as requested by RSR the evil. (vague bits in there regarding an as yet unfinished SG-1/Blake's 7 crossover). (and the tense does whonky things, but my brain is too tired to fix it)
The methodicalness of his hands and lips made her want more. He was careful, touching and caressing as if she were delicate until she raked her hands down his back and arched, and then he would understand.
It wasn't fast, it was never too fast, but there was something she might once have said was decadence in the way he felt inside of her. The way she could look up at him and *know* that this was just as good for him as it was for her. He let her see, sometimes, that the depth of emotion his companions claimed for him was *there*.
When Teal'c fucked her, Jenna sometimes prayed to the pagan Gods Vila used to talk about (Cally liked to say they only existed in his head).
She liked to wrap her legs around his waist, liked that he liked it too.
He is always the most considerate lover she's ever had. Whether he's hard and fast or slow and gentle, he makes sure she shatters on the pinnacle ahead of himself. Depending on his stamina, they can break records.
The way she feels in his arms before, during, after, is safe. And whole. Or not whole, because that's a silly childish superstition, but she feels complete when he's there. And wonders at her own reaction, her own instinctive need to be at his back, to stand at his side (and his friends seem to understand, especially the older man and the blonde woman who makes Cally and Avon so nervous when she goes into a long technological discussion with Orac).
He is, like her, lost in a situation that presents many options but has only one honorable conclusion.
And Jenna Stannis used to mock herself for her scruples, used to get in fights in bars on half a dozen worlds just to prove that she had grit. Because a female smuggler needed that extra edge or they thought you were soft.
Teal'c has always assumed she can take care of herself.
It's why she turned to him in the first place, why that first kiss happened. Why she found herself sliding closer to him and scratching gently at the back of his neck.
Respect has always been a hell of an aphrodisiac.
It's why she and Blake have never done *this*. Why she and Avon certainly never could. And as respect has to go both ways why it's never been Gan or Vila or Cally. Not that she seriously ever considered having sex with Cally.
Except once.
And she'd much rather be here, with Teal'c.
"Jenna." He whispers her name softly into the skin of her shoulder and she turns to look at him. One hand comes up to stroke across her forehead. "You seem troubled."
"I'm just..." There's nothing to explain the whirlwind of thought, so she doesn't try. "Just wondering," her foot nudges his, "if you're rested enough."
"Most certainly."
"Good." She moves, swiftly and kisses him pushing him back and fiercely claiming his mouth with her own. Some small part of her knows he is allowing this, but she doesn't care. Her hands skim his skin, claiming it, nails occasionally carving out strokes of skin.
His hands guide her hips and she half-understands what he's suggesting, but she wants something different. He's still not quite hard behind her and she sits up and reaches back to fondle him.
"Not--quite yet," he rumbled against her mouth. And then he rolls them, and now he's in charge, large body pressing her down, hands trailing across her flesh.
She squirms when he tickles a spot on her side, and then moans when the movement changes to stroking and he moves down to take a nipple in his mouth. His fingers find her, slide in. And she is still sensitive and wet from earlier, and the friction is just this side of exquisite.
Her hands tug at his head, and she fleetingly wishes there were hair to grab. It's frustrating to attempt to get him to stop or do something different when he is *so* focused and determined.
The directions merely send him sliding down her body, his lips and tongue and teeth leaving a trail behind before he reaches the juncture of her thighs and then his fingers pause while he pulls her legs further apart, and then his tongue and lips and teeth are right *there*. He knows exactly how to bring her to that fever pitch and then slow, so that she coasts for a while.
In some ways it's excruciating, in others frustrating, but it feels so damn good every time he does it that the only thing she can do is dig her heels into the mattress and try to get him closer.
When he tires of her cries and pleadings, he goes that last little bit of distance, and she breaks, body bowing upwards, hands clenching at the sheets.
Too much feeling, too many nerves all dancing and twisting, and she *knows* she is crying out. And hopes that it can't be heard too far away.
Another thing that always endears him more to her is that he is not smug about doing this to her. Any man she has been with before has always had some twisted masculine pride, as if he's the only one who gets her off. Teal'c is proud, but only because she is so responsive. She figures it's less his way of claiming her and more his way of letting her claim him.
That's what Sam Carter said once, anyway.
Jenna never really talks about sex with any of the rest of them.
He moves back up to lie next to her, leg tangled with her own, one hand landing on her torso. She settles closer to him, surprised to find that he doesn't appear to want anything more. "Sleepy?"
"Indeed." He doesn't quite yawn, but he is settled so firmly against her, she is certain he is.
"Sleep, then." Her hand tangles with his, and she shifts slightly to find the hollow for her hips.
A small grunt from him.
She knows he's asleep moments later. For a while, she stares sleepily up at the ceiling. And then she follows him into dreamland.
-f-
Teal'c/Jenna Stannis, as requested by RSR the evil. (vague bits in there regarding an as yet unfinished SG-1/Blake's 7 crossover). (and the tense does whonky things, but my brain is too tired to fix it)
The methodicalness of his hands and lips made her want more. He was careful, touching and caressing as if she were delicate until she raked her hands down his back and arched, and then he would understand.
It wasn't fast, it was never too fast, but there was something she might once have said was decadence in the way he felt inside of her. The way she could look up at him and *know* that this was just as good for him as it was for her. He let her see, sometimes, that the depth of emotion his companions claimed for him was *there*.
When Teal'c fucked her, Jenna sometimes prayed to the pagan Gods Vila used to talk about (Cally liked to say they only existed in his head).
She liked to wrap her legs around his waist, liked that he liked it too.
He is always the most considerate lover she's ever had. Whether he's hard and fast or slow and gentle, he makes sure she shatters on the pinnacle ahead of himself. Depending on his stamina, they can break records.
The way she feels in his arms before, during, after, is safe. And whole. Or not whole, because that's a silly childish superstition, but she feels complete when he's there. And wonders at her own reaction, her own instinctive need to be at his back, to stand at his side (and his friends seem to understand, especially the older man and the blonde woman who makes Cally and Avon so nervous when she goes into a long technological discussion with Orac).
He is, like her, lost in a situation that presents many options but has only one honorable conclusion.
And Jenna Stannis used to mock herself for her scruples, used to get in fights in bars on half a dozen worlds just to prove that she had grit. Because a female smuggler needed that extra edge or they thought you were soft.
Teal'c has always assumed she can take care of herself.
It's why she turned to him in the first place, why that first kiss happened. Why she found herself sliding closer to him and scratching gently at the back of his neck.
Respect has always been a hell of an aphrodisiac.
It's why she and Blake have never done *this*. Why she and Avon certainly never could. And as respect has to go both ways why it's never been Gan or Vila or Cally. Not that she seriously ever considered having sex with Cally.
Except once.
And she'd much rather be here, with Teal'c.
"Jenna." He whispers her name softly into the skin of her shoulder and she turns to look at him. One hand comes up to stroke across her forehead. "You seem troubled."
"I'm just..." There's nothing to explain the whirlwind of thought, so she doesn't try. "Just wondering," her foot nudges his, "if you're rested enough."
"Most certainly."
"Good." She moves, swiftly and kisses him pushing him back and fiercely claiming his mouth with her own. Some small part of her knows he is allowing this, but she doesn't care. Her hands skim his skin, claiming it, nails occasionally carving out strokes of skin.
His hands guide her hips and she half-understands what he's suggesting, but she wants something different. He's still not quite hard behind her and she sits up and reaches back to fondle him.
"Not--quite yet," he rumbled against her mouth. And then he rolls them, and now he's in charge, large body pressing her down, hands trailing across her flesh.
She squirms when he tickles a spot on her side, and then moans when the movement changes to stroking and he moves down to take a nipple in his mouth. His fingers find her, slide in. And she is still sensitive and wet from earlier, and the friction is just this side of exquisite.
Her hands tug at his head, and she fleetingly wishes there were hair to grab. It's frustrating to attempt to get him to stop or do something different when he is *so* focused and determined.
The directions merely send him sliding down her body, his lips and tongue and teeth leaving a trail behind before he reaches the juncture of her thighs and then his fingers pause while he pulls her legs further apart, and then his tongue and lips and teeth are right *there*. He knows exactly how to bring her to that fever pitch and then slow, so that she coasts for a while.
In some ways it's excruciating, in others frustrating, but it feels so damn good every time he does it that the only thing she can do is dig her heels into the mattress and try to get him closer.
When he tires of her cries and pleadings, he goes that last little bit of distance, and she breaks, body bowing upwards, hands clenching at the sheets.
Too much feeling, too many nerves all dancing and twisting, and she *knows* she is crying out. And hopes that it can't be heard too far away.
Another thing that always endears him more to her is that he is not smug about doing this to her. Any man she has been with before has always had some twisted masculine pride, as if he's the only one who gets her off. Teal'c is proud, but only because she is so responsive. She figures it's less his way of claiming her and more his way of letting her claim him.
That's what Sam Carter said once, anyway.
Jenna never really talks about sex with any of the rest of them.
He moves back up to lie next to her, leg tangled with her own, one hand landing on her torso. She settles closer to him, surprised to find that he doesn't appear to want anything more. "Sleepy?"
"Indeed." He doesn't quite yawn, but he is settled so firmly against her, she is certain he is.
"Sleep, then." Her hand tangles with his, and she shifts slightly to find the hollow for her hips.
A small grunt from him.
She knows he's asleep moments later. For a while, she stares sleepily up at the ceiling. And then she follows him into dreamland.
-f-