Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters and places are the
property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. But as
newromantics pointed out: Jack does belong to me now!
Category: SJR
Rating: R (It's not explicit enough to be smut)
Season/Spoilers: Any/None
Summary: You never believed in perfection but she comes close to it.
A/N: Huge big thank you to splash_the_cat for her beta. *knuffels*
~~~~~~~~~~
It's like a prayer, moving your hands over her pale skin. As if you're worshipping her. You don't understand why she lets you. You feel inadequate; your hands are too rough to touch her like this. But she likes them. You know because she told you so.
You feel like a sinner, tasting her skin when it's salty from sweat. You like the taste, like to move your tongue along her throat and dip it in the hollow at the base. You swear she tastes differently there, you don't know why. You don't question it; just embrace the truth for what it is. Her low moan vibrates through her body and you wish you could crawl under her skin. It's wrong, so terribly wrong, but you'll happily let Satan in his ice lake chew on you for eternity if this is sin. You don't tell her that; it's not that kind of relationship, where she's allowed to know you read Dante. She already knows you're not as dense as you let everyone believe, knows too much about you.
She's started filing your nails, a gesture that feels too intimate. You protested at first because it isn't a manly thing. Until she slid between your legs and pulled your hands into her lap and the protest died on your lips. You still threaten that you'll tell Daniel and Teal'c the exact location of that mole of hers if she tells them, but she knows you wouldn't dream of letting any other man know anything about her body. It's your religion. So you shut up and let her trim your nails. It's for her anyway; she likes it when you touch her clit with them just before she comes. It never fails. Afterwards, she'll push your hands away, murmuring about it being too much.
You turn her over and bite down on the back of her neck. She hisses; perhaps you've bitten too hard. But then she arches her back and presses against your groin, making you moan along with her. The last time your chest was touching her back, you were both naked from the waist down -a stolen moment in between missions where you didn't even have time to undress completely. You remember how her muscles held you, just like they do now. How she moaned but batted your hand away when you wanted to touch her. You don't understand why she didn't want you to help her. She said something about just wanting to feel you inside her but you didn't really understand. You're the one worshipping her, after all.
Your hands drift underneath her, exploring her skin. You never believed in perfection but she comes close to it. She's shy of her body. You knew that the moment you first walked in on her in the bathroom. She tried to cover herself, tried to hide the many scars that mark her. She's not vain, anything but, but she's conscious of her body. You touched her then - felt like an altar boy being allowed to carry the goblet filled with consecrated hosts. Your fingers explored every mark and scar, tracing them, wondering how they only served to make her more beautiful, more perfect. When you looked up at her, her eyes shone with something you'd never seen in them before.
She moves against you, pressing up and making you lose yourself in her. You never thought anyone would fill your senses like she does. But even now her scent burrows its way into your mind. You're besotted; she's more than just a religion, she's more than you could ever have hoped for. She seems out of place, like she doesn't belong in your life. Like the Song of Songs in the Bible; odd, too beautiful to really belong there, but it wouldn't be the same without it. You don't tell her that either though. Because you're not really a religious person; you haven't been for years.
But you find yourself worshipping again.
Category: SJR
Rating: R (It's not explicit enough to be smut)
Season/Spoilers: Any/None
Summary: You never believed in perfection but she comes close to it.
A/N: Huge big thank you to splash_the_cat for her beta. *knuffels*
~~~~~~~~~~
It's like a prayer, moving your hands over her pale skin. As if you're worshipping her. You don't understand why she lets you. You feel inadequate; your hands are too rough to touch her like this. But she likes them. You know because she told you so.
You feel like a sinner, tasting her skin when it's salty from sweat. You like the taste, like to move your tongue along her throat and dip it in the hollow at the base. You swear she tastes differently there, you don't know why. You don't question it; just embrace the truth for what it is. Her low moan vibrates through her body and you wish you could crawl under her skin. It's wrong, so terribly wrong, but you'll happily let Satan in his ice lake chew on you for eternity if this is sin. You don't tell her that; it's not that kind of relationship, where she's allowed to know you read Dante. She already knows you're not as dense as you let everyone believe, knows too much about you.
She's started filing your nails, a gesture that feels too intimate. You protested at first because it isn't a manly thing. Until she slid between your legs and pulled your hands into her lap and the protest died on your lips. You still threaten that you'll tell Daniel and Teal'c the exact location of that mole of hers if she tells them, but she knows you wouldn't dream of letting any other man know anything about her body. It's your religion. So you shut up and let her trim your nails. It's for her anyway; she likes it when you touch her clit with them just before she comes. It never fails. Afterwards, she'll push your hands away, murmuring about it being too much.
You turn her over and bite down on the back of her neck. She hisses; perhaps you've bitten too hard. But then she arches her back and presses against your groin, making you moan along with her. The last time your chest was touching her back, you were both naked from the waist down -a stolen moment in between missions where you didn't even have time to undress completely. You remember how her muscles held you, just like they do now. How she moaned but batted your hand away when you wanted to touch her. You don't understand why she didn't want you to help her. She said something about just wanting to feel you inside her but you didn't really understand. You're the one worshipping her, after all.
Your hands drift underneath her, exploring her skin. You never believed in perfection but she comes close to it. She's shy of her body. You knew that the moment you first walked in on her in the bathroom. She tried to cover herself, tried to hide the many scars that mark her. She's not vain, anything but, but she's conscious of her body. You touched her then - felt like an altar boy being allowed to carry the goblet filled with consecrated hosts. Your fingers explored every mark and scar, tracing them, wondering how they only served to make her more beautiful, more perfect. When you looked up at her, her eyes shone with something you'd never seen in them before.
She moves against you, pressing up and making you lose yourself in her. You never thought anyone would fill your senses like she does. But even now her scent burrows its way into your mind. You're besotted; she's more than just a religion, she's more than you could ever have hoped for. She seems out of place, like she doesn't belong in your life. Like the Song of Songs in the Bible; odd, too beautiful to really belong there, but it wouldn't be the same without it. You don't tell her that either though. Because you're not really a religious person; you haven't been for years.
But you find yourself worshipping again.