Power plunders powerless
He'd been right that they were not only being watched, but also being followed. Even though Mira was friendly enough as she gave them a tour of the temple, which was eerily similar to the one on Sateda, they'd been shadowed by no fewer than three young male acolytes. There were probably more that Ronon wasn't able to see, but with every passing minute, his tension rose a notch.
It was when they were in the garden, paused by a kamari bush, Mira telling Becque about the different varieties the gardeners cultivated, that the Elder from before appeared, seemingly from nowhere. "Ronon, how are you finding everything so far?" The man grinned, a steely glint to his eyes.
Ronon gave a half-smile that he knew had to be more of a grimace than an actual smile. "The room is quite comfortable, thank you. And I know Grace appreciated the bath as well."
Makai's expression turned genuinely pleased at the words. "Excellent. I am very glad to hear it. Is there anything you need before the Sequestering begins? We will be happy to provide anything we are able to enhance your time of devotion to the Ancestors."
It was that oblique offer that drew Ronon up short. How he wanted to drive his fist into the man's smirking mouth. Instead, he cast a glance toward Becque, thinking quickly. "I have my belt and cording for binding. If I needed more, I'd consider myself quite incapable and unworthy."
"Well said, lad." The man reached out and clapped him on the shoulder, then turned toward the women who were now quietly standing off to the side, having fallen silent at the Elder's arrival. "Grace, would you like me to provide salve of any kind? Since it seems you are already acquainted with your husband's handiwork?"
To Ronon's surprise, she answered without stopping to think of it. "How thoughtful." She cut a glance to Ronon, her expression absolutely vacant once more. "But it is Ronon's decision to make, not mine." It would have been the right answer, if she'd looked at him for permission to speak first.
The Elder pounced on it like a cat on a piece of fresh meat. "Indeed it is. Sweet girl you have there, Ronon. She will be utter perfection once you have overcome that tendency to speak out of turn. Though, if that is her worst quality, you have already made more progress than some ever do. Now… I'll let Mira escort you back to your quarters and we will see you after the sequestering is over. The Ancestors see all."
Ronon stiffened, his smile turning brittle as he all but hissed the expected response. "The Ancestors and their servants see and hear all."
Makai offered him a knowing smile, unaffected by Ronon's display of temper. "Indeed. A good evening and a pleasant Sequestering to you both."
Without waiting for her to step closer, Ronon closed the distance to Becque before the Elder was completely out of earshot, hissing the words aloud. "I don't recall giving you permission to speak to anyone." He heard the slave gasp and then step back, even as he gripped the back of Becque's neck and tugged her forward. He lowered his head, his voice barely a breath in her ear. "I'm sorry, Becque." Ronon lifted his head, seeing a flash of defiance in her eyes and was grateful there wasn't so much as a trace of genuine fear as he lifted his voice again, moving solidly into her personal space, just enough menace in his tone to make the words carry clearly through the garden. "I'm disappointed, Grace. I expected better of you, especially after the last time."
Her blue eyes were on his, bold and unflinching, but she injected just enough trepidation into her voice to appease the eyes of the Elder who lingered within earshot. "I'm sorry, Ronon. It won't happen again."
"You're damn right it won't." He left the words to linger there as he stepped away, his fingers tightening at the back of Becque's neck, eyes landing on the girl who stood a few feet away, quietly looking at her toes. Ronon snapped the words at her, allowing his irritation with the entire thing to carry into his voice, unleashing it on her. "Why are you still standing here instead of showing us back to our room? You want to join her in what's to come?"
"No, Master. Forgive me, Master." She whispered out the words and turned to lead the way without another word. Ronon's heart went out to the pathetic creature who seemed so broken. His chest tightened at the mere idea that what he was about to do to Becque might have the same impact. Fuck. This was not how he wanted this to happen. He wanted to hear her crying out in pleasure, not pain.
Ronon kept his pace brisk until the girl stepped aside at the door to let him enter. The moment the door closed, he heard a bolt slide home, locking them in from the outside. The sound was worse than a bullet exiting a chamber, or the hum of darts. He stood silently in the entryway, eyes flicking to the mural. On impulse, he gripped Becque closer, his voice low in her ear. "I'm so sorry."
Her own voice was just as quiet as she unexpectedly lifted a hand to touch his face. "It's okay. I trust you."
Ronon closed his eyes, disgust rising in him as he brushed a kiss over her temple. The contact was as much to reassure himself as her. He wanted to promise her that he wouldn't hurt her. He wanted to tell her that it shouldn't be like this the first time between them. He wanted to go slowly, to savor her body, to feel her unraveling for him, coming apart at the seams before he slid home inside her for the first time. He wanted to tell her that when the time came to mark her as his, it would be different. He wanted to tell her how sweet it would be, to show her immeasurable pleasure.
Instead, all he could do was stare at her, at a loss for words as he closed his eyes and banished the words he wanted to say to a place for later, when he was able to make it up to her. When he kissed her again, it was a slow touch, and he poured into it everything that he wanted to say but couldn't, praying to whatever gods there were that she understood in some small measure that this was not him.
The kiss he gave her, out of sight of the mural or whoever was undoubtedly watching, was gentle and unexpected, sending her heart hammering in her chest. It lit every nerve in her body, and sent an instinctive wave of anticipation through her. It was given without explanation, an apology from the way he breathed out against her cheek. His whisper came once more, his voice tinged with reluctance. "I wish I could promise not to hurt you." His fingers brushed her lips lightly before he stepped back. Instantly the loss of his body heat and the solid, reassuring presence of his body near hers left her oddly bereft.
He slid his hand to the back of her neck once more and dragged his thumb over her pulse point before he tightened his grip and strode into the room. WIthin the span of a single heartbeat he'd tightened his grip, spinning her with dizzying speed and pushed her none-too gently up against the wall, the words coming out in a growl that wasn't Ronon at all. "When we are in public, what is my expectation from that mouth of yours? Hunh?"
A very real tendril of apprehension began to snake through her veins as she imagined what life must be like for any woman tied to a man who would speak this way to her for real. She swallowed hard, her eyes locking to Ronon's face as she murmured the word quietly. "Silence."
"Exactly." He bared his teeth at her, and she felt his fingers tense, as if he were applying pressure to her throat, but in reality, his hand was shaking. He stepped closer, towering over her. "It's a pity. I was almost impressed by your behavior so far. I see now my faith in you was misplaced. I can't express how very disappointed I am." He released her throat and stepped back, eyes glittering harshly as he uttered the command with a soft growl. "Take off the robes and loosen your hair."
Grace's fingers shook as she began to fumble with the cords that held the robe gathered snugly around her body. He was absolutely no help as he stripped his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor. His voice was a harsh snarl unlike anything she'd ever heard from him before. "Move faster, woman."
The apprehension inexplicably began to turn to arousal. Her eyes flicked to his face as she pulled the garment over her shoulders and then lifted a hand to loosen the scarf. She let it fall to the floor unheeded as she moved faster, plucking the pins that held her hair from the thick bun. It took only another few seconds to pull the rubber band from the end and quickly undo the braid. Ronon's bearing was visibly tense as he stepped closer, hand lifting to slide into her hair, cradling her head at the base of her skull.
She dared to peek up at him only to find his gaze dark and angry. She knew the anger wasn't directed at her, but still she knew she would bear the brunt of it. It was no less than she deserved for agreeing to this mission after he'd warned her, warned them all. She'd forced him into this position as surely as if she'd given the command to lock them up and watch them herself. His lips slammed down on hers, his kiss hard and greedy. She expected that. What she didn't expect was for the gasp to escape her so quickly, nor for his tongue to invade her mouth, sweeping in and taking control. He stepped into her space once more, but this time it was entirely different. Ronon's larger body pressed hers back to the wall as he deepened the contact, his tongue teasing and tasting.
Liquid heat pooled in her core and Grace shook as she lifted her hands, daring to settle them at his belt. Ronon's hips moved against hers, as they had earlier in the day, but this time it was different. It was a slow grind, one that dragged her attention to the power in his large body. He was breathing heavily when he drew back, his eyes coming to rest on her lips. His hips moved against her own once more and she was instantly aware of more than just the movement. He was hard.
Her eyes lingered on his as his fingers moved to his belt as he stepped away. He spun to place his back against the wall, his voice guttural, the words harsh. "Get on your knees." Grace's eyes slid up to his face only to see him staring at her, his expression utterly closed off as he left his belt to dangle from the loops of his pants. She slid to her knees in front of him, grateful for the plush carpet she knelt on. The next words he spoke were just as menacing, just as intimidating. "Undress me." Grace swallowed, raising her hands to the button on his trousers.
Sternly, she reminded herself that she was supposed to know what to do. And it made sense. Any woman who was truly with this man would know exactly what to do. On instinct, she knew that he wouldn't tolerate anything else. She plucked up her courage and unbuttoned the heavy canvas trousers, tugging the zipper down. To her surprise, he wore nothing underneath and his cock sprang out the instant the zipper cleared his pelvis.
She heard him take in a shuddering breath as she gripped the pants and pulled them downward. Strong fingers threaded through her hair as he lifted one leg and then the next, letting her tug the pants off, along with his shoes and socks until Ronon Dex stood before her, gloriously, beautifully bared. And there could be no doubt that the man was beautiful. There was no other word to describe the expanse of long, hard muscles that stood before her, tense and rigid. Her eyes landed on his cock, before flicking up to his face. His own eyes were closed and his lips parted as he breathed and out steadily.
Grace took advantage of that moment to let her gaze linger on the hard length in front of her. She hadn't seen a cock in person before, not up close. Instinctively she knew that what she was looking at was anything but average, just as nothing else was average about this man. Long and thick and unashamedly hard, she saw the gathering of moisture that leaked from the tip and had the insane urge to flick her tongue out and taste. His fingers tightened in her hair and she heard his voice coming once more, almost unrecognizable in its intensity. "What are you waiting for?"
He'd closed his eyes only for a moment, to get control of himself. He'd not had anyone else touch him in years. The sight of Becque on her knees in front of him was nearly enough to make him lose control then and there. It was the sensation of her warm breath over the head of his cock that made his eyes snap open, staring down at her as she studied him. Her eyes were shadowed, a bit fearful, as though she had no idea what to do. Ronon frowned ever so slightly. As he spoke the words toward her, maintaining the facade of cruelty, his pulse kicked up.
Her hand lifted, fingers wrapping around his shaft and it took everything in him to hold still and not groan at the pleasure of another hand besides his own holding him. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out, dragging over the head. The movement very nearly ended him. He wanted to let her take her time, wanted to let her enjoy this, if she was able to. Some women didn't, weren't capable of it. But when he saw Becque draw her tongue back into her mouth, taking her time, savoring him, he knew this woman would be the death of him.
Her fingers tightened on him, stroking lightly, as though she were afraid of hurting him. Even the sight of those fingers not coming close to closing around his girth make him all the harder. He tightened his fingers in her hair and tugged her back to his cock, grinding out the crude words that he would normally never use with her or any woman. "Suck me." Ronon's free hand closed around her fingers and began to stroke, showing her how he wanted to be touched. Her lips parted and she took the head in without hesitation, instantly enveloping him in wet heat. His head dropped back against the wall, eyes locking to the arches on the other side of the room. If he looked down, he would humiliate himself.
Of all the time he'd imagined having her, never had he considered this. He'd chosen this in the hopes it would be the lesser of the evils, sparing her the worst possible scenario. But for that to work, he had to give the people watching them a show he hated. This should be private. Any other time, he would introduce her to this gently, slowly, as he would introduce her to the rest of him. Instead, he gritted his teeth and tightened his hand in her hair, his fingers falling away from her own as he began to thrust shallowly. "That's it, Grace. Take more." The words may not be what their interlopers wanted to hear but they were all he could give her, a genuine moment of knowledge that he didn't want to hurt her.
Her tongue curled around him and he heard her breath hitch. In the next instant Ronon opened his eyes and lowered his gaze, staring down at her. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen in his life. He wanted to be inside her so badly it ached. He wanted to fill her body with his essence, mark her as his own, on his own terms. The need to completely possess this woman hit him with an intensity so real it scorched him to the marrow of his bones. His fingers gripped her hair and he saw a moment of pain in her eyes before he eased off, fingers stroking her scalp even as he began to move deeper in her mouth, his thrusts settling into a steady, quicker rhythm.
A groan ripped from his throat as he stared down at her, his eyes locked to the sight of those pretty pink lips closed around him even as the sensation of her tongue working in an effort to lick and suck was quickly drawing him toward the inevitable he wasn't ready for. He thrust forward sharply, hitting the back of her throat. She gagged instantly, choking on him. He eased back, forcing the words from his lips with no heat. He wanted to hate this. "Maybe this is what I should use that mouth for all the time, instead of allowing you to open it to speak without permission."
He bit back a groan as he pulled her other hand away from his shaft, his voice lowering dangerously. "If I feel your teeth, I'll knock them out of your fucking face. Do you understand me?"
Her eyes were on his even as he stroked his fingers over her head, reassuring her that he wouldn't fulfill the threat. She gave a muffled sound of understanding that sent vibrations through his cock and straight to his brain. Ronon let his head fall back against the wall as he tugged her head downward, pushing to the back of her throat once more even as he murmured the words as softly as he could. "Relax your throat so you don't choke."
Ronon could feel her struggling to do just that as he eased back. He released an unsteady breath, his body shaking as he faced a battle of his own. He could feel his balls already beginning to tighten. He thrust forward again, gripping her head tightly as he forced his way into her throat fully this time. He could feel her choking, feel her panic begin to rise as he lingered for a moment and drew back, allowing her to breathe. Her eyes lifted to his face and he dragged in a ragged breath. He knew it couldn't be good, to feel something as large as he knew he was forcing its way into your throat, cutting off your air, and yet as she gazed up at him, there was no fear, only curiosity.
He arched a brow at her in question, even as he hissed the words out. "You like it." The words were for the benefit of those listening, but to his astonishment, even as tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, she gave the slightest nod. She had to be joking. Ronon's cock jerked inside her mouth, and her eyes widened, not understanding what she'd just done. He thrust forward, giving her no warning as he pushed into her throat again, this time drawing out a split second later. He began to stroke into her, never stopping until her lips were stretched wide around the base of his cock, using her mouth as he would her pussy. He wanted to unleash fully, shatter her composure the way she was shattering his.
He tightened his hand in her hair as he began to move faster. His voice was low, this time not for the people who were watching, but for her. "Fuck. Talented little fuckin' mouth." He was lost in sensation, his movements steady and forceful and still she took it, over and over, though he felt her struggling to breathe, to match the force he was using. A moment later, fire touched off in his belly and ripped up his spine as he unceremoniously thrust into her throat once more before he drew back. Perversely, he wanted her to taste him. He snarled out the words, locking her into place as his cock twitched in prelude to the end. "That's it. Take it."
Even by the standards of the society he'd grown up in, he had more darkness than most Satedan men would admit to. More kinks, more aggression. It had only intensified in the years since he'd had an outlet for it. He felt her mouth working around him as he came, the first heated spurts of his release hitting the back of her throat. Mercilessly, Ronon locked her into place as he ground out the words. "All of it, Grace. Swallow it, just like you swallowed my cock."
His eyes cracked open and he stared down at her through bleary eyes as pleasure slammed into him, rolling through him as he unleashed months of need on her. He'd wanted this, wanted to mark her, to claim her. He'd wanted to fill her, and even though it wasn't enough, it was a start. The sight of her on her knees, trying to swallow the last of his come was the single best moment of his life since he'd arrived in Atlantis. It should have been her mouth he'd pictured every time he'd stroked himself to completion in the shower, imagining her bare body.
Ronon grunted softly, unable to remain silent as he finished, his fingers still gripping her head, locking her into place as the last twitches of his length inside her hot mouth overrode his common sense. He didn't want to lose that heat, that slickness that cradled him. Greedily, he breathed out the words, his tone genuinely harsh, his breath ragged. "Clean me with your tongue."
Her eyes were wide as she lifted them to his own and he felt her mouth begin to work at him all over again. Soft licks over his softening shaft worked at counterpoint to the sweet sight of this strong woman who gave herself over so unexpectedly and so completely to the moment. He drew back, his fingers drifting over her cheek as he tugged her head back with the fingers buried in her hair. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes slightly dazed, and her lips swollen. Ronon stared down at her, his voice harder than it needed to be. "The next time you speak out of turn, it'll be your ass I fuck instead of your mouth. Do you understand me?"
Her face flamed, and she gave the softed nod. "I understand." Even that quiet admission was enough to make his body tighten once more, the predatory nature he hid so well clawing to get out. Ronon released her and spoke the words simply. "Undress and get in bed before I change my mind."
Grace's head spun, both from the oxygen deprivation and the sudden realization that she apparently possessed a superpower she'd never known about. She rose to her feet, hands lifting to the button at the back of the dress that held the neck closed. She didn't dare look at him. He was still breathing heavily, and she felt his gaze on her, his eyes dark.
Her throat was sore, but it was only to be expected. What had looked large when she'd first seen it was even larger when it was in her mouth. She'd not expected it to taste like, well, skin. But more than that, there was a sweet saltiness that lingered on her tongue. The sounds Ronon made as he found completion were forever branded into her awareness. It had surprised her, that she liked being handled roughly, as much as it seemed to surprise him. She knew his words had been for those watching, but she'd been unable to do anything but nod, giving him the truth as he'd hissed the question down at her.
It had seemed to flip a switch in him. He'd begun to move almost frantically, as if goading her, testing her. She'd done the best she could, and when she'd felt that first spurt of his release hitting her tongue, she'd damn near choked from the force of it. The rest came in fast waves, filling her mouth faster than she could swallow. When she'd looked up at him, his expression was dark and satisfied, as if he were somewhere else, as though he weren't really seeing her.
Grace pushed the thought from her head as she pulled the dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She felt the heat from his body behind hers, his fingers dragging up her spine as he spoke again, his voice lower. "All of it."
Her face flamed. There was something intimate about being undressed in front of him that trumped even the act of being on her knees and sucking him off. Shamefully, she wanted to do it again. She reached back, unhooking her bra and sliding it off her shoulders. His fingers came to rest at the panties she wore, thumbs hooking in the fabric and pushing them down.
She stepped out of them, and it took everything in her not to wrap her arms around her body and shield her from his view. They were supposed to be seasoned at this. She was supposed to be comfortable with his eyes and his hands on her. Instead, she didn't even have the luxury of looking at him for reassurance. His breath was warm in her ear as he pressed his fingers to her lower back and gave her a little push. "Don't make me say it twice."
Grace bowed her head and silently moved toward the bed, acutely aware that not only could Ronon see her, but whoever was on the other side of the mural could as well. She did her best to control the flush that suffused her body but there was literally nowhere to hide. As she felt the bed dip behind her, and Ronon scoot closer, her eyes flicked to the mural. She didn't dare look directly, but instead gazed at it from beneath her lashes.
The room was plunged into darkness as Ronon put out the lamp on the table beside the bed. He pulled the furs up from the foot of the bed, cocooning her in warmth, offering at least the illusion of privacy for a sweet moment. His body curled around hers, one hand coming to rest on her hip. Only then did she register a light kiss being brushed over the shell of her ear, his voice steadier than she expected it to be, soft and barely more than a breath. "Are you okay?"
She considered the question for a moment, unsure of how to answer. She was okay physically, but her spirit felt like a raw, open wound. He'd shown her something she never expected to see and she was certain it wouldn't be enough for anyone watching, to see what he'd done. The truly humiliating part was that she'd liked it. She'd liked the display of dominance, or power. She'd liked the way he unleashed his strength on her, showing her in some measure, what he was made of. What did that say about her? Tears stung at her eyes.
In the darkness she could feel him peering at her. His hand tightened on her hip and he bowed his head, his voice coming once more, and this time, the breathed words were laced with concern. "Becque, answer me."
Grace drew in a steadying breath, her mouth working silently for a moment before she finally found the words. "I'm fine."
Ronon seemed to know the lie for what it was, because the word came so very softly in her ear, laced with disbelief. "Bullshit."
The darkness offered illusory comfort, shielding her from the judgement she fully expected to be in his eyes if she were facing him. "I liked it." She pushed the words out even more softly, convinced they were so quiet that Ronon might not register them, even so close to her as he was.
There was a moment that seemed to stretch onward for years before she felt him shift beside her, edging closer as he stretched out long legs and bent his head until she could feel his breath on the top of her head. He was not a stupid man. He could read her like a book, it appeared, even in the dark and the silence.
She felt him move, his hand lifting from her hip and coming to rest on her face. Grace had never imagined that this would be the outcome of day one of the mission. He'd warned them all. She'd liked it. What kind of deviant was she? Tears of humiliation stung at her eyes as she now realized she'd exposed far more to him than he needed to know. It was hard to maintain the wall of professionalism when she'd had his cock down her throat not fifteen minutes before.
Ronon surprised her by nudging her onto her back completely, his forehead coming to rest against hers for a moment, though he didn't speak. To her shock, he settled in beside her once more, and draped an arm over her waist. To her infinite relief, he let the matter drop. His lips brushed the shell of her ear in another of those bone-melting, warm whispers. "Get some rest."