Part: 3/5
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She woke in increments, with each moment becoming conscious of more around her. The first awareness being of the sunlight glowing around her, then white sheets, a tanned arm around her, and the cooler air over her skin.
When she next surfaced, the air against her breasts registered, but there was warmth cupping under one. She turned onto her back, the soft mattress comforting and supportive under her. The cool air remained over her and she reached down blindly for the covers. She found material around her waist and pulled it up to cover her chest, the extra warm hand now resting over her middle, and she slipped back into a light doze.
She was aware on some level of the distant sounds of people outside the walls of the room, of the breathing beside her, and the occasional movement of the mattress under her, but none of it disturbed her. Instead, she lay completely comfortable and relaxed.
The mattress shifted under her and the warm weight against her middle moved, sliding against her skin as sleepily as she felt. The touch slid up and down her middle with small almost idle movements, but it soothed her deeper into the relaxed sleepy mood. Fingers slid around one of her breasts, softly caressing touches and then down to her middle again. She sighed at the contact, lying happily under it, enjoying the soft faintly arousing touch.
The next time she rose into consciousness, the light was brighter against her eyelids, and she opened them to see the curtain filtered sunlight shining across the ceiling above her. She stretched her body slightly, rolling her shoulders back and her feet around under the lightweight of the sheet over her. As she did, more awareness of the room around her returned, and she blinked up at the ceiling with fuzzy confusion.
She looked down at herself, seeing her own skin exposed, the sheet lying around her middle, though she could feel a hand lying on her lower stomach, only his forearm visible above the line of the sheets. The memories began to push forward, despite her already knowing who owned the arm and hand, but it was only as she blinked again that the enormity of the situation suddenly arrived.
She lifted her head slightly from the pillow glancing down the bed to the room beyond, to the glass door through which they had arrived last night, and the foot of the bed where so much had occurred. The memories shuffled into order and importance and she felt the shock as well as the flush of aroused pleasure to her body to recall it all.
The heavier covers had been knocked off the bed, or perhaps had been removed by him, because she could put together enough broken memories to guess that he had carried her to the bed. Alongside the outline of her legs under the single white sheet over the bed, she could see the outline of his legs. She followed up the line of a long strongly shaped leg to the swell of a hip and then skin above the sheets bunched up around his waist. His skin stood out in sharp contrast to the white sheet, but it was the memories that flooded her that made her feel slightly flushed again. She had gripped his hips, his backside and pulled him tighter to her. The images and feelings, sensations and remembered sighs and moans.
Her gaze travelled further up, to the flat stomach turned towards her, up to where his arm stretched out to rest against her. His forearm was a very familiar sight to her, but only once or twice before had she seen the rest of his arms and chest that were usually hidden under his uniform. It was all as handsome as the areas of him she knew very well. She smiled at her thoughts, amused and slightly embarrassed at herself, as she followed up the lines of his chest to finally look up at his face.
He was her friend, her colleague, and now he was lying naked beside her in bed.
It was not the first time she had thought of him there, but it had always been an abstract and unrealistic dream. Now, here he was and she could barely believe what had happened between them.
She turned her head against her pillow to look at his face more clearly. He was fast asleep, his cheek pressed into the hotel pillow. His expression was completely relaxed with sleep. She had the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch his cheek, to run her fingers through his hair. To press her lips to his, and press herself close to him again.
She blinked at the thought. Last night had been unbelievably passionate. It had rushed away from her without thought, as if they had been caught up in a wave of intense feeling, the night somehow removed from the rest of their lives. They worked together, had been friends for so long, and yet with only a few soft kisses something had ignited. She could remember his passionate touch, emblazing something within her that had simply broken and given way. She had lost herself into it, surrendering with abandonment. This was her John, who last night she had gripped to her, her hands on his backside, his sex inside her and their mouths together.
It had been beyond passionate and, in truth, she believed it to have been the most passionate lovemaking she had ever experienced before. She had been quite unlike her usual self, revelling in her sensual nature in a way that she had not previously. She had wanted him desperately, perhaps due to the fact that her desire for him had been building for years, long denied and then so explosively allowed an outlet.
He had been as wild has her though, touching her with no hesitation. He had not held back, not shown any doubt in what they had shared. His mouth had slid over her, his body as urgent as hers for their joining.
Athosian rites of lovemaking usually involved quiet build up, a couple giving time and space to allow pleasure to build. There would usually be the gazing into one another's eyes and kissing to be focused on, the joining taken in good time with conversation as to how to touch, how to begin. That was the way she had previously known lovemaking to be, except perhaps for with one of her first lovers, Silenos.
They had been young and caught up in the natural demands of the awakening sexuality of teenage years. The two of them had run off into the forest, touching and kissing in ways that were never discussed and certainly not shared in the open public air of the forest where they could have been heard or seen. They had not been found though, and their passion had been explosive, intense, and eventually short-lived. Silenos, being a young man, had tired of her affections alone, and one day she had learnt he had been seen heading into the forest with another girl from the camp. She had set off into the forest to confront them, but then when she was deep inside the trees that cold place inside had struck. She had fled, finding her hiding place in her old caves as the Wraith had arrived. It had been on that day that she had lost her necklace and that the Wraith had found Silenos and the object of his new affection in the forest.
Her father had been beside himself with fear and anger with her when she had emerged from the caves and returned to the camp later that day following the culling. It had been on that day that she had learnt the danger of losing oneself in wild passion and jealousy. She had loved since Silenos, but never with the physical intensity of that time.
Until now.
Her lovemaking with Kanaan had been what she had expected of the act – taken with time and attention, soft, gentle and pleasurable enough, but last night…she had felt that deep overwhelming lust that she remembered sharing with Silenos. The desire that would honestly have had her tearing John's clothes from his body last night if he had not removed them fast enough. She had wanted her mouth on his skin, her hands clenched in his flesh, his manhood inside her. She had lost herself to the passion, abandoning herself to moving with John in a way that held no thought, no questioning or ritual, just purity of intensity and feeling.
She had given of herself in a new way, taking and giving without thought, without concern of technique or worry. She had revealed a new depth to herself, laid herself bare for the experience. She felt raw from that, feeling slightly vulnerable to the fact that she had cried out so very loudly, so full and demanding in her passion. She had lost herself and had enjoyed every moment of the experience.
She studied John's face as he slept deeply. She wondered if last night had been as dramatic for him as for her, and she hoped that he had truly enjoyed the union as much as she had. She wondered what they would say to one another when he woke and they looked at each other in the light of the day.
A sense of growing discomfort told her that she would have to leave the bed soon to visit the bathroom, but she wished to remain, reluctant to risk breaking the spell in which she had been caught with him. The bed was so comfortable, her body relaxed. She felt rather decadent lying naked except for the thin sheet around her and John's waists. Yet, the discomfort was growing, so carefully she shifted in the bed, turning to sit up and away.
She swung her legs out from under the sheet to sit on the side of the bed. Her body felt good, warm and relaxed in a very deep way that likely was just as much to do with emotions than with the wonderful physical release from last night. She ran a hand over her face, pushing her hair from her face as she woke further, the air against her reminding her that she was entirely naked out from under the sheet.
She glanced down to the floor, hoping that some of her hastily removed clothes from last night may be visible, only to spy some dark folded clothes on the floor near her feet that looked like they had fallen from the bed. She reached down for them, guessing they were John's usual nightclothes. They were indeed a pair of soft black trousers and a navy coloured t-shirt. She set the trousers on the bedside table for him, and unfolded the shirt for herself.
She pulled it on, his scent surrounding her, as she rose from the bed. She smiled at the long length of the shirt on her where it reached down to cover her hips. As she moved around the side of the bed, she glanced back to John sleeping soundly.
At the foot of the bed, she saw the sea of bedcovers that had either been kicked or pushed aside. Among the sheet, their clothes were scattered and she felt a light flush to recall each moment when those items had been removed. She dipped and collected them up quickly, laying them all on a near by chair, except for her underwear, which she carried with her into the bathroom across the room.
Once inside she closed the door and used the facilities. She pulled her underwear back on and as she washed her hands, she saw herself reflected in the mirror. Her skin was still slightly flushed, but she looked rested and sleepy. She ran her hands through her hair, trying to tame it somewhat, memories of John's hands in her hair returning.
She looked down to the sink. To the side there were hotel bathroom products and among them a sealed disposable toothbrush. She opened it and turned to the small dark bag that sat close by. She was sure that John would not mind. It was open, the can of shaving cream obvious, the accompanying razor set on the side of the sink. She pulled the edges of the toiletry bag open further to reveal the usual male items inside. One item that caught her eye was a glass bottle that held the liquid scent he had been wearing last night. She glanced at the door, feeling a little foolish, as she lifted the bottle and opened it to sniff at the contents. It was stronger than it had been on him, and did not hold the other natural element of his scent, but it was very enjoyable. She secured it closed again, returned it to the bag and pulled out the tube of toothpaste.
She brushed her teeth absently, her mind replaying last night. Part of her wanted to celebrate and bask in the arrival of something she had wanted for a very long time, but another part of her was cautious, careful that this was not liable to lead her into a more painful place.
As she rinsed out her mouth, she reflected, perhaps hoped, that she was sure that John was not one to idly share a bed with someone. Surely, he too had felt the intensity of last night. It had been something beyond passion, beyond the physical, surely that was something he had also felt. Or was she simply swept up in the fantasies of a woman in love? She dried her mouth and set the toothbrush in the pot beside his.
She looked back at herself in the mirror, smiling at the fact that 'Airforce' was written boldly across her breasts on his shirt. She lifted the material and again inhaled his scent from it. She frowned at herself. This was not behaviour that she was used to, as was behaving without prior thought as she had last night. And here she was sniffing at John's clothes, just his natural scent stirring memories and desires.
Back when Kanaan had made his first offer to her to begin a relationship, she had taken three days to decide to accept. She had discussed with him the fact that she lived in Atlantis and that consequently she would not be able to spend much time with him. They had agreed and retired to his tent, where they had shared their first kisses comfortably, with smiles and candles surrounding them. Last night, her first kiss with John had been very different, so sudden and yet so perfect. She looked back up to her face to see that she had her fingers touched against her lips, having lost herself in the memory. She frowned at herself and shook her head, turning from the mirror. She was hardly a young woman any more. She could appreciate passion, albeit sudden and with more intensity than she had shared before, but she could also acknowledge the fact that she had a tendency to be rather enamoured with John usually, but especially so this morning.
Regardless to how this had had started, she had shared a wonderful night with John, even before their first kiss. The passion had been a surprise, not just in its sudden arrival, but also in its intensity. Now, she was about to return to his bed and wait for the moment when he would wake and they could face what had happened between them in the bright light of the day. That moment was something that she felt an excited, nervous anticipation about, and it was with that knowledge that she moved to the bathroom door and headed back into the main room.
John still slept, lying on his side, the sunlight shining over his exposed chest and back.
She moved around the room, heading back towards her side of the bed, her eyes on him. She allowed herself to focus thoroughly on the sight of him, to enjoy how handsome he was. The sheets were still around his hips, preventing her from seeing any more, but she remembered what she had seen last night. She also remembered the feel of his legs, toned and strong under her hands, as well as his back and hips.
She reached her side of the bed again and eased herself back down onto the mattress, into her place beside him. She settled down onto her side, facing him, tucking one hand under her pillow as she watched him sleep and took in the feel of being here. The air temperature was comfortable, so she stretched out her bare legs over the sheets. She wanted to touch him, yet did not wish to disturb his deep sleep, and there was the still faintly lingering concern that when he woke that he may not be as pleased as she was at the new development. Therefore, she lay quietly beside him, absorbing the moment and letting her body relax.
The moment that woke him was not as she had expected, for a sharp and sudden chime rang out loudly in the room. She jerked with surprise, rising up from the bed on one elbow to look around for the source of the sound, but as it rang again she realised it was coming from the bedside table on John's side. With that second ring, John stirred awake with a groaning indecipherable mumble, turning suddenly away from her in the bed. She watched, more than a little amused and impressed, as he twisted and reached towards the ringing phone on the bedside table in one motion. Despite how sleepy he was, he reached directly for it and, on the second attempt, picked up the handset and held it to his ear.
"Sheppard," he said into it with a deeply sleepy voice. "What time is it?" He asked of the person at the other end.
Turned away from her in the bed now, the sheet had slightly pulled away from his hips to reveal some of his backside and she caught herself staring.
"Okay," he said into the phone as he ran one hand through his hair, and then settled his jaw sleepily into his hand. "No, no," he muttered and she wondered if was an official call. "No, say half an hour," he mumbled into the phone. "For two please."
He was nodding against the handset and she was rather impressed how he was able to carry on his conversation when he was clearly mostly asleep still.
"Thanks," he added and set the handset back down, again taking a second attempt to set it correctly, before he slumped back down onto the bed with a sleepy groaning grumble.
He then rolled back onto his side towards her and from where she was still leant up on one elbow, she saw him blink open his sleepy eyes as he settled back next to her and their eyes met. She smiled softly at him in greeting.
He blinked again, and when his green eyes reappeared this time, she saw growing comprehension in them as he woke up further. His eyebrows rose and looked away lifting his head slightly to look towards the rest of the room and the foot of the bed. He dropped his head back down onto his pillow, his gaze returning to her and he smiled.
"Whoa," he uttered, his voice deep with sleep and stunned amusement.
She let out a laughing breath, agreeing with his assessment, and more than a little pleased at his response.
It was with a strange mixture of delight and slight shyness that she glanced away and then back to him, to see that his eyes were on his shirt that she was wearing.
"You do not mind my borrowing it?" She asked, pulling at the hem of the top around her hips to settle the shirt over her more comfortably. His eyes dropped lower down his shirt to her hips and then rose up to meet her gaze again and he shook his head against the pillow.
His eyes were wide, to the point of staring, and in them she sensed that he shared the same surprise and wonder, at least that was what she hoped she saw there. She also thought she saw pause, and the moment extended between them in silence, as they looked at each other. And so they were in the gazing that she normally expected to occur before even a kiss, let alone what they had already shared. But, then this was a man from elsewhere, not even from the same galaxy as her, and already meant so much to her. They had faced great dangers together and had established a strong friendship.
The affection she held for him rose powerfully, strong even prior to the passion of last night, but now deepened by last night's intensity. Perhaps the passion had been informed by that affection more than she had realised, for he already meant so much to her. More than she had allowed herself to really measure before now. Lying here beside him, she could not deny those feelings, for she trusted him completely. When before had she felt that so completely with a new lover? She had trusted him with her life, her son, and her people before, and now her own body and passion.
The feelings had been building for years, built upon the foundation of their work in Atlantis, working to protect each other, but until now she had believed the deeper elements had not been returned. Last night said differently, as did his open direct gaze now. So many moments from the past years altered in importance – their first meeting, his reaction to her pregnancy, his practical denial of Kanaan's presence in the city, and the look in his eyes now. She had seen an element of that interest before she realised now. This was not so entirely new as she had thought. The electric feel of the air between them in the past had not been purely in her mind or purely from her response to him. Her long built affection was shared.
"I did not know that you felt that way about me," she whispered to him.
His expression shifted, showing brief moments of surprise, amusement and perhaps some embarrassment. He glanced away to the end of the bed and back to her, one eyebrow lifting. "I didn't think you felt that way about me either," he told her, the subtle tension broken by the joking innuendo and the rather strange, almost absurd caution of the moment considering what they had shared last night.
The desire for each other was very clear though, and his eyes dropped to her lips with that staring, slightly surprised, look again. She let her eyes wander a little as well, feeling warm inside at the reality of this new change to their relationship. She had intended to have a discussion with him, but what else was there to say? They liked one another, had shared wonderful passion, and all the other concerns dropped away.
She leant forward on her elbow, setting her free hand on his chest. He lifted his head from the pillow to meet her kiss, his hand sliding around her waist as their lips met. His dark eyed look as she had neared him had shown her how truly he was no longer hiding his attraction for her. She pressed her lips to his, feeling confident and delighted to be the subject of that focus.
His lips were more familiar to her now, though this was the first kiss shared in the light of day and with clear thought before it. He pressed his lips back against hers with equal pressure, no hesitation in the touch, and as she pulled back slightly, he lifted his head to keep the contact a fraction longer. She licked her lips wet and leant back down across the small space between them and pressed her lips back against the plump warmth of his.
Both his hands slid up her back to her neck, sliding up and around to cup both her jaw and cheeks in his palms as he slanted his mouth against hers, deepening the kiss. She rested herself further against him, one hand over his broad chest, tightening her fingers against him slightly. The kiss lingered, soft, slow, and lightly arousing. It was not the intense passion of late last night, but neither was it the half-conscious soft kisses they had first exchanged down on the beach. This time both of them were fully aware, fully giving and receiving, and they were calmer, emotion being shared rather than just physical passion.
He was warm under her, his hands sliding from her jaw to her back and up into her hair, tightening as he slid his tongue deeper into her mouth. She sighed with pleasure, resting further against him, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. The arousal was growing slightly now and he rolled further onto his back, pulling her down over him.
She leant further over him, pressing her chest to his, and she lifted her mouth briefly as she lifted one knee over his middle, so that she could lie directly over him. She saw the pleasure in his expression at her action, his hands sliding down her sides to her hips, as she settled front to front with him, her knees bent up against his sides, and pressed her lips back against his.
He felt wonderful beneath her, his hands gliding around her back, holding her to him as they kissed. The arousal was there, but their kisses were more affectionate and exploratory this morning.
The lazy pleasurable spell enfolded around her, her focus almost entirely focused on his mouth against hers. On their lips against one another's, his tongue against hers, his breath, the sensation of his mouth, of the sharing rhythm that had returned between them.
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Onto Part 4 (to be posted up tomorrow)
