Ronon fought against the need to touch her. When he gave in to the temptation, barely grazing her cheek with the pads of his fingers, his good intentions faded. But it was that tender kiss to his palm that was his undoing. He'd warned her that she needed to leave, but his beautiful, stubborn wife hadn't obeyed.
Her lips were still beneath his for a moment and he fully expected her to push him away, to slap him. Instead, after a heartbeat, he heard her ragged intake of breath and then her lips moved beneath his, answering his kiss. The scent of her, the feel of her, overrode his better judgment and he softened his lips against hers.
Her body had changed over the past few years. She was softer with more curves, and fuck, he wanted her with a ferocity he'd forgotten she drew out in him. Ronon had thought he'd become inured to the pain of loss after so long. Before meeting Sheppard and going to Atlantis, he'd spent so long in a haze, just trying to survive that he'd forgotten how to live. After she'd left Atlantis, he'd thrown himself into the very mission he'd told her had to be his focus.
But now, with her soft tongue brushing against his lips for entry, Ronon felt alive. Her hands came to rest on his bare chest and again, he expected her to push him away. Instead, her fingers were stroking greedily over his skin as he opened his mouth and his tongue danced along with hers. The unexpected gentleness of the kiss he'd intended to be punishing was enough to break him. Ronon tore his mouth from hers, staring down at her. His voice thick with the consuming need that had always haunted him. "Leave."
Her beautiful blue eyes met his and he felt her palms flatten against his chest, one hand sliding to rest over his racing heart. Ronon could see the war he fought with himself reflected in her eyes. He lowered his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of her downturned lips, then slid his mouth up her jaw, to deliver another kiss to the spot just below her ear. He parted his lips, taking the delicate lobe between his teeth and nipping gently before soothing the bite with a swipe of his tongue. He repeated himself, hearing the plea in his own tone. "Leave."
She needed to go, before he lost the last of his grip on reality. He slid his fingers over her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, reveling in the soft skin that had haunted him for so long. Like a ghost from the past that was on the brink of becoming a nightmare. She was real and solid, and here… right in front of him. Bad decisions seemed to be his stock and trade these days, but as her fingers drifted downward over his chest, wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, the anger began to rise again.
Ronon rested his forehead against hers. "Leave." He repeated one final time, this time his tone threaded with warning as his hands lowered to fist in the neckline of the light tank top she wore, the same color blue as her fucking eyes. Those fucking glacier blues depths that he saw every time he closed his fucking eyes for more than three fucking years.
The rush of anger turned over in his stomach into a tight ball, spinning into fury and weaving itself into the very fabric of his being. He hadn't felt this way since the Wraith had dropped him back onto Sateda to relive those last horrible hours when he'd fought for his people, for his woman. It had been torture, to have the memories of the two women he loved intertwining together in the place where he'd been sent to die. He'd been a shadow of himself since that day, only coming to life again when he'd seen her in the shop that morning.
And now… he tightened his grip on her shirt and directed his wrath directly at the only woman who'd ever been able to take the full force of that beast inside him. He was shaking as he whispered the words to her, embracing the darkness. "Damn you."
Her eyes were steady on his, though he could feel her begin to tremble, could feel her heart hammering against her chest, a staccato rhythm to match his own. He bared his teeth at her, not recognizing his own voice. "I'm going to punish you."
He took a step forward, forcing her backward, toward the wall. She gripped his belt, but still no fear. Ronon lifted his head, knowing she saw the fire in his eyes. "I'm going to hurt you."
Another step, her little body was now shaking, but still she refused to run. Even as he saw the first flicker of fear shadow her beautiful face, she was steadily allowing him to maneuver her as he wished. "I'm going to mark you."
Ronon was blind to everything but the sweet scent of her, the foolish courage she showed in the face of those promises. Gods, he loved her. He stopped only when her back hit the wall. The fabric of her shirt began to give, a slow ripping sound. His words were a cruel rasp. "Last chance, Grace." The command was guttural as he gave it one last time. "Leave."
She swallowed hard, and despite the trepidation in her voice, her words went straight to his cock. "No."
Fuck, he was so fucking hard. Ronon's lips slammed down on hers, the delicate fabric of her shirt yielding so very easily, ripping down the front. He slid a hand behind her head, pushing the remains of her shirt over her shoulders, sending it to the floor. His fingers laced into her hair, wrenching her head back as deepened the kiss.
He felt as much as heard the harsh intake of breath when he bit her lower lip in warning. His other hand moved to deftly unhook the front clasp of her bra and sent that to the floor, too. He covered one plump, beautiful breast with his hand, need tearing through him.
To his surprise, she matched him note for note, her tongue lashing along his in a fight for dominance. She'd never fought him before, she'd been kind always, giving him what he needed. And now, Ronon needed a fight, and so she gave him one. Her hands slid around to the front of his pants, fingers working at the buckle of his belt. He growled into the kiss for a moment before releasing her lips and bending his body to take one pebbled nipple into his mouth. She whimpered, a glorious sound, before releasing a small cry when he sank his teeth into the tender flesh in a nip that was just a shade too hard. And still, she didn't push him away.
Ronon soothed her abused nipple with a swipe of his tongue, his fingers working at the fastening of her clothing. With quick, sure movements, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her jeans and panties, jerking them down over her hips to let them slide down. He didn't even care that she was whimpering in his arms as he sucked at her nipple, his hands roving over her supple curves. Her skin was so fucking soft and she smelled so damn good. Ronon gave a growl before releasing her nipple from his mouth with a distinct, soft pop.
She was still fumbling with his belt when he stepped back from her, brushing her hands away with a single, hard sentence. "On your knees, Grace."
Her eyes were round and wide as he smoothly finished the job of unbuckling his belt and ridding himself of the remaining clothing he wore. He was pleased to see that her breath came in ragged pants, as she leaned against the wall for support. She didn't move immediately, instead merely stared at him as he kicked aside the clothing that had pooled around their feet. Ronon narrowed his eyes as he wrapped his fingers around his cock. Her eyes lowered and he saw her lower lip disappear as she worried at it with her teeth.
He braced one hand against the wall by her head, his voice gruff. "You want to leave, you know where the door is. You want to stay? Get on your fucking knees."
He wanted to see her give, to see her break apart, to make her remember just how it had been. He wanted fucking release. Dark satisfaction unfurled within him as she began to slide down the wall, her gaze locked to the sight of him as he stroked himself. The alcohol he'd consumed removed any inhibitions he might have had. Just the sight of her kneeling before him brought back the memory of the first time he'd had just the smallest taste of the pleasure this woman could bring him. The Makanesh homeworld, her on her knees, taking his entire length, choking on him, swallowing him.
He didn't have to tell her what he wanted. She knew. She'd always known. Ronon watched as her hand rose to touch him. He released his shaft long enough to slap her hand away. "Only your mouth." He slid his fingers into her hair, guiding her closer.
The second he felt her warm breath fanning over him, he released a long, slow breath. Her tongue darted out, giving him a long, slow lick from base to tip. It took everything in him not to curse. He wanted to savor this, the sight of her submission. "The first time I saw you in those leggings, at dinner, I wanted you."
Grace froze, her eyes rising to his face. He pressed the head of his cock to her mouth in silent demand. Obediently, she parted her lips allowing him to slide inside. Ronon's lips clamped shut for a moment, his eyes slamming closed as the heat of her mouth enveloped him. He continued to speak through clamped teeth. "By the time we were locked in the pantry, listening to Kramer and Meyers fucking, you were making these little whimpers. And you smelled so fucking good."
Ronon exhaled slowly, pushing into her mouth with slow, steady intent. "You were all I could think of." He released a groan as he hit the back of her throat and began to withdraw again. "By the time we on that fucking planet and I realized what I had to do to you, I was relieved. I only realized it after that first night. I was relieved, Grace, because I finally had an excuse to get you on your fucking knees, a reason to take you."
He cracked his eyes open, gazing at her as he thrust forward again, pushing his way past the back of her throat. He felt her choking on him instantly, but didn't back off this time. He kept going, deeper and deeper, watching as she took it. "All the way, Grace. Just like the first time. I want to be all the way in your fucking throat." Ronon released a long, slow groan as he realized her hands had come to rest on his thighs, not pushing him away, but curling her fingers into his skin, her nails biting as he remained there for a moment, buried deep, forcing her to feel every inch of his need. He lowered his head, the words coming out with dark intent. "I loved it. I loved every fucking second of it. Watching you struggle to take me, watching you choke on my dick. And I fucking loved it when you told me how much you liked it later."
Ronon withdrew, giving her a moment to breath. He watched as tears began to gather at the corners of her eyes and when one spilled over her cheek, he tightened his grip on her head once more and thrust forward again, driving himself fully into her throat. He began to move in earnest then, slowly at first, then picking up speed. In the span of a few seconds, she had adjusted to the invasion and he was guiding her head, using her mouth as he had that first time. She choked, the tears fell, and still he felt her hands at his hips, urging him forward. "Do you still love it, Grace? Or have you forgotten how it is between us?"
He felt her tongue moving, dancing along the underside of his cock in answer, meeting his every thrust even as he leaned forward, bracing his hand on the wall for leverage. He'd missed this, missed the warmth, the acceptance, the freedom… the purging of his darkness that he'd only ever found with her. He watched those tears fall over her face, listened to the lewd sounds, the sweet way she yielded as he uttered the words without remorse. "Do you still love it, a'ko?"
She answered with a muffled cry, a grunt that sent vibrations of pleasure through his cock and straight to his balls. He could feel the end beginning to edge in and gave her the warning he hadn't so long ago. "I'm close, Grace. I'm so fucking close."
The tugging on his hips became more insistent, her nails biting into his skin. One hand moved, sliding across his straining hip and then down. Ronon gave a low growl as her fingers clumsily slid up his inner thigh, cupping him. His head fell forward, watching her as the pleasure ripped down his spine and he drove deep into her throat once more, locking her into place as the first spasms of his release escaped his cock. The words escaped him in a deep, guttural command. "Swallow. Every fucking drop."
The sight of her lips as she struggled to accommodate him, to obey him, stretched around the base of his shaft only made the ecstasy that much more potent. Again and again, his length jerked inside her throat, the haze of anger and release wrapping together into pure greed. He groaned out his pleasure for her to hear, the words tripping off his tongue in a thick growl. "All of it." It seemed to go on and on, like an eternity of bliss.
As he finished, he eased out of her throat, to allow her to breath. She pulled in gasps of air, her face red and flushed, the tears staining her cheeks. Ronon let his hand slide from her hair, over her cheek, and to her swollen lips. "Do you still like it, a'ko?" The taunting tone to his voice was tinged with a bitter edge.
Those pretty blue eyes flashed with defiance. Her voice was hoarse when she lifted a hand to wipe at the back of her mouth. "Yeah. I do. If you want to hurt me, you're going to have to do better than that."
Grace didn't know what possessed her to egg him on. She hadn't forgotten the intensity with which Ronon approached everything. She hadn't been touched in years. There had only ever been him. Her head buzzed with too much scotch and the taste and scent of him. Christ, she'd missed this man. His fingers tightened in her hair to the point of pain as his face twisted. His expression was somewhere between wrath and longing, as if he were unable to decide what to think. A split second later, his eyes narrowed, and she knew he'd settled on anger.
The movement was so sudden she gasped, hitting the floor on all fours before she was even able to register that he'd moved. His hands were on her hips, sliding around them to grip her inner thighs. His voice was an unrecognizable snarl as he jerked her thighs open. "I will."
Grace fisted her hands for a moment before flattening her palms on the floor, the thick carpet warm beneath her fingertips. It briefly flashed across her mind that a wicked case of rug burn hovered in her future, a ridiculous thought that fled the second she felt Ronon's move. His cock, nestled against her ass, half-hard, as he curled his body over hers. She'd forgotten just how large he was when he did that. Dimly, Grace could remember the last time he had. It was on one of her last nights on Atlantis. He'd returned from a mission in a dark mood, silently entering his quarters and climbing into bed with her. That night had been one of the times he'd needed to be rough. She'd discovered he used sex to express things he couldn't with words. She'd worn the bruises from that night for days afterward.
"I tried not to love you." That deep voice was strained, as if he were on the brink of breaking. "I tried so fucking hard but you made it impossible."
Grace's heart broke all over again. For him, for her, for Anara. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath, her own voice unexpectedly shaky, raw with emotion. "I know."
"But you still left." He planted one large hand over hers, his voice dripping with venom. "You left me alone."
Her own temper flared again. He was so angry, but so was she. She was hurting too. Grace struck without conscious thought. She jerked her head up, the back of her skull hitting his chin. Pain blossomed in the back of her skull as she heard him swear, his fingers moving from her hand to her wrist. "I was hurting too." She hissed the words at him. She needed to fight, she needed to feel the pain, she needed something real, to redeem her from the fog of worry and heartache and guilt her life had become since the day she'd stepped on board the Daedalus for the last time. "Fuck your feelings, Ronon."
He gave a growl, his free hand coming to rest at her hip. She could feel him blossoming to full hardness against her. He was enjoying the violence as much as she was. He wanted to use her, to hurt her. Grace wanted to hurt him just as much, but for very different reasons. "You're an asshole."
She lifted a hand, reaching back to grip his bare thigh, nails biting into his skin as hard as she could from the awkward angle. Ronon's hand raked up her side, covering one breast as his hips began to move, thrusting against her ass. "And you're a bitch." He snapped back at her without hesitation.
Grace inhaled sharply, red clouding her vixion as she used him just as much as he did her, hurling angry words at him without thought. "Fucking coward. Always more scared of your own feelings than of the wraith. Scared of a girl."
Ronon shifted behind her and she felt the blunt head of his cock come to rest at her entrance. His voice was foreign, hatred rolling off his tongue. "I'm not the one who ran away. That was you." He drove into her without warning, without going slowly, without caring about her comfort. Grace released a pained cry of surprise. While the sting of it was beautiful, the way she embraced that pain was frightening. He filled her, bigger than she remembered. His cock felt like he was splitting her in two, and maybe that was what he wanted to do.
Ronon released a low breath in her ear, his free hand moving to curl around her throat. "I told you to leave." The double meaning in his words were clear, crystalized shards of the truth, hanging in the air around them. She realized in a flash of clarity that though he'd told her to leave, he didn't truly want her to. He'd wanted her to stay. Then, and now.
He didn't give her time to adjust to the invasion of that monster into her body, but rather withdrew swiftly and began to move with unfettered abandon. Strong fingers tightened on her throat as he hauled her upward, the hand at her wrist moving to wrap around her waist as he suspended her from his arms. His hips crashed into hers as he unleashed his full fury on her. Grace's voice was breathless as she released her own hold on the grief that she'd bottled up since that day on Sateda. "Hurt me." She commanded.
His strokes never faltered, and as he hauled her back against his chest, he shifted his hand to her chin, forcing her head back against his shoulder, letting her see his face twisting in rage. She'd never seen him so fucking angry and he was beautiful. His fingers dug into her jaw as he pounded into her. "I will." His answer was without mercy as his thick, hard shaft invaded her over and over. The violence was as much catharsis as it was pleasure.
Tears stung at the corners of her eyes all over again as she met his gaze. His eyes were wild and she grappled for a hold on him, fingers sliding to his arms, his hands, anything to inflict pain on him. Finally, when she'd found purchased on his forearms, she dug her nails in as hard as she could. "Make me hate you, Ronon. Please."
He seemed to understand what she needed, as he always did. His thrusts were savage as he groaned out a response she didn't understand, slipping into the Satedan she'd only ever heard him use when he had lost all semblance of control. She recognized only a handful of words. Curses and insults mostly. The moment seemed to pass all too quickly and that baritone growl came in her ear once more, now lightly accented. "I'm going to fucking break you, Grace. Just like you broke me."
Those words were like a match to a fuse. Her eyes slammed closed as the pain and the sorrow entwined together with the arousal and the acceptance she found there. Though they were different on the surface, they shared this one grief. Her release slammed into her with the force of a freight train, her body tensing in his arms as wave after wave of agonizing rapture coursed through her. It robbed her of breath, and she could only cling to him, whispering his name like a prayer and Ronon, the dark god she worshiped.
He gifted her with precious words, his thrusts short and violent. "Still mine, Grace. After all this time, you're still mine and you always will be. You're-" He cut himself off as he inhaled a sharp breath and she felt him still, his cock as deep inside her as he could get, impaling her on him. She felt his length swelling, jerking within her, the spasms of his large body as he came. His breath came in harsh rapid bursts against her cheek as he buried his face in her hair. "You're fucking mine."
Grace was helpless in the face of that declaration as the last waves of her own orgasm washed over her, carrying with it the pain of years, the ache for him that had never gone away. She leaned her head against his, her fingers loosening their grip. Ronon groaned again, this time an exhalation of relief as he collapsed back on his haunches, his arms tight around her, refusing to let go. His voice was still hard, still laden with the grief and the terrible love that had bonded them so long ago. "Mine. And I'm not letting you go again. Ever."
As common sense began to creep in through the haze of relief and the fog of alcohol, Grace felt a cold apprehension settle over her. She couldn't answer him, she had no answer. She settled for simply trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. She'd come to tell him the truth, and instead she'd made everything so much worse.
Ronon's whisper was a hard pant in her ear. "Stay." She nodded weakly. Her body ached. Her heart ached. Her world had tilted off its axis and she was spinning in space with no way to stop it. This one night was all she could let herself have. A memory, a resolution, and despite her better judgment, she couldn't bring herself to tell him no. And so she stayed.