Written for the Hugs, Kisses and Cuddles challenge that "oxoniensis" held at her LiveJournal in April using the prompt "cards".
x x x
The House Doesn't Always Win
"Please tell me that you have a plan," Lorne mutters as she leans in close.
"I do," she murmurs as she pretends to inspect the 'trophy'. He hisses as she runs a fingertip across his collarbone before trailing slowly along the long slit in his shirt to his midriff.
"Is this really necessary?"
Teyla cocks an eyebrow. "I did not hear you complaining when the other women scrutinised you. Nor the men."
He shrugs as best he can against the ropes around his arms and torso. "Well, the other women – and men – weren't here to rescue me. They really do want to have their wicked way with me."
Something in her expression makes him catch his breath, but it disappears behind a smirk as she answers his original question.
"Yes, I have a plan. I am familiar with the game that they are playing, it is common amongst the trading worlds of Terras and Merania. It is not dissimilar to your 'Poker'."
"So...you're gonna attempt to win me in a game of Poker? Who came up with that plan?"
She ignores him as she straightens and looks down at him. "Failing that, Ronon is in the hall attending another game and Colonel Sheppard is waiting in the Jumper. They are awaiting a signal from me."
"Right. That makes me feel a little better." He smiles nervously. "I suppose the only appropriate thing to say at this point would be good luck."
"Thank you."
He calls out to her as she turns away from him. "Just so you know, I wasn't really complaining."
She looks back over her shoulder. "I know."
x x x
The next time that he sees her, Teyla is holding several trinkets as well as what looks like an Ancient data crystal.
"Looks like you cleaned up," he mutters as she drops her possessions on the floor next to him and straddles him.
She leans forward until her lips are inches from his. "It would appear so."
In the next moment, her hand is in his hair and tugging his head forward and upward. Fierce, warm and possessive, her mouth presses into his with an urgency that surprises him. Her tongue slips between his lips, and he parts them willingly, letting her in. He moans lightly when she finally starts to withdraw and is rewarded with a gentle bite of his lips before she pulls back. Dimly, he is aware of her hands moving between them and the brush of her fingertips against his torso.
"Now, I know that that wasn't necessary."
She looks down at him as her fingers work swiftly to untie the knots, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile.
"No, it was not," she admits. "But since we have come this far, I see no reason not to continue with this falsehood. As far as anyone in this room is concerned, I am the victor and you are my prize."
She stands as the rope falls away from him and tugs him to his feet. Bending down, she picks up the rope and wraps it around his wrists in front of him before gathering the excess in her hand. He winces as she tightens the knot before turning and preparing to lead him out. Taking advantage of their difference in height, he leans over her shoulder to whisper in her ear.
"Just so you know, that wasn't a complaint either."