They should be at the party, should have been for the last hour and a half, but there is no way in hell John Sheppard is about to give this up for anything.
Elizabeth is naked on his bed, limbs spread wide and open and like everything he wants. She waves him off from tackling her again just long enough to grab a drink of water from the glass she keeps on her bedside table. Even the shape of her throat as she swallows and the trail of escaped water droplets over her already sweaty skin is impossibly sexy, and when he can't wait anymore, he pounces.
She yelps out a laugh, coughs once, and the rest of the glass of water ends up spilled between them. He's kissing her already, too taken with the feel of her against him to notice the cool liquid as anything other than added sensation, and she kisses him back. He can tell she's smiling. He loves that.
"We really should go," she teases into his ear, wrapping one leg around his.
His hands find her sweet spot easily with the months of experience he's got on her, and she doesn't even try to hold back her moan. "Really?" Now he's teasing. "Sure you don't want to just stay here?"
"God, John..."
He's the one trying to make her crazy, but he's pretty sure she could make him come at the sound of his name if she really wanted to. He pushes aside her wandering hands -- those hands have done quite enough already -- and steels himself with whatever distractions he can think of. The average cost per pint of the rich alien brew they managed to trade for at the last minute. The six hundred freaking twigs of something-like-pine that Teyla talked him into stringing together for decoration. The words Elizabeth tried to teach him for 'Twas The Night Before Christmas.
She reaches for his cock again, slipping her long fingers between their bodies when he isn't paying attention, and he bites his own tongue to stay focused. He's going to make her come first if it kills him, no matter what other ideas she might have in mind.
Elizabeth's back arches off the bed as she cries out something between a whine and his name, and he can tell she's getting close. She's beautiful, God, and only more so when she's like this, naked and uninhibited and wanting him.
"John, dammit-" she starts to struggle, eyes a bit wild and dazed, and he knows exactly what she wants. His body is in complete agreement, and he almost shakes with relief as he can finally put all his mental distractions out of his head and just focus on her.
She comes on the first thrust, as soon as he's buried all the way inside her, something incoherent and undeniably feminine on her lips, and he feels like a sex god when that happens. She's panting now, gasping for steady breath even as she smiles.
"Want you," she breathes, even though she already has him, and his whole body shudders. She beckons him to lean closer on the next thrust and gently bites his earlobe before whispering, "Happy holidays."
She tightens around him without warning, and he's gone. He doesn't know what he said when he lost control, but she's laughing gently as he comes back to earth and rests his forehead on her shoulder, kissing her skin.
"We should really shower and go before they send out search parties," Elizabeth says. It doesn't take her long to regain coherence after sex.
He doesn't want to move. Ever. She is warm and beautiful and smells perfect when her skin is damp with this kind of exertion. "They won't notice."
Her hand comes up to stroke through his hair in exactly the way he likes, the way that can always melt him to her will. "We don't have to stay long," she bargains.
"Only because you want to so badly." He always bows to her negotiating skills in the end. "Consider it a Christmas gift."
She smiles, and this is a different smile, one that seems to reach right inside him and take root in his chest. "It's just what I always wanted."
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