Chapter 11

Ronon slams his fist into the side of Lorne's head and the guy goes down fast and hard. His backup two come at Ronon from behind and he grasps them around the neck only to flip them over his shoulders and plant them back first onto the floor with a dual thud. His boot connects with a few ribs and there's a resounding crack.

"That's enough!" Sheppard shouts a second too late. Ronon spins, baring teeth at the colonel before remembering this is supposed to be practice. Sheppard's in his face. "You're done."

Ronon glances at the men sprawled on the floor; a flash of guilt hits him because he knows he went too far. With a growl, he buries the guilt and the thoughts of Alessa. This isn't about her.

Who am I kidding? This is all about her! She told him how Lorne's team had talked about her and he had promised to visit pain on the men. And no matter how much her rejection hurt, he isn't one to back out on a promise.

It's been two weeks since they last spoke – since he's seen her even – and he's been nothing short of a mess. He hasn't slept or eaten much in days and his stomach is constantly upset as if he might vomit at any moment.

"What is with you?" Sheppard asks in his commander's voice, his eyes dark and angry.

"Nothing."

The other men are helping each other to their feet. The one with the cracked ribs leans between Lorne and the other guy as they help him out of the gym. Everyone else disperses, leaving Ronon alone with Sheppard.

"Like hell. Whatever's going on, get over it now. I can't have a loose cannon on my team."

Ronon glares at him. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I just said. I can see you're angry about something. If you don't want to talk to me about it, fine. But talk to somebody. Fix it now… or else."

Ronon grabs his towel as he stomps out of the gym. It might be best if he left Atlantis altogether. He was good on his own. He could be again.

She'll follow no matter where I go. As he marches toward his quarters, Ronon feels his body tense even more. Even if he wanted to leave Atlantis, it wouldn't make a difference. Alessa is inside him… a part of him.

He's going to have to find a way to get her out. To forget her.

A hand touches his arm and he whips around ready to pummel whoever owns it. Dr. Jennifer Wilkes backs up a step, pulling her hand free. Her eyes go wide, but not with fear as he would have expected. "Doctor."

"Ronon," she says in that familiar husky voice. She's the first woman he's ever bedded that could purr like one of the jungle felines on Sateda. It was rather arousing. The thought of it still manages to quicken his pulse.

"You look tense," she says, taking a step closer to him. "Are you feeling all right?"

"No." He remembers her nails scratching across his back and his butt as she pulled him close, urging him deeper.

She nods, licking her lips. Then without another word, she takes his hand and leads the way down the corridor. She palms open a room. It's empty except for an unused desk. Dust covers the floor. No one has been in this room since coming to Atlantis. She palms the door closed and turns to him. "I have a remedy for tension," is all the lead-in she gives him before settling her hand on his crotch and gently rubbing.

Ronon clenches his teeth against the instant pleasure she's invoking. "You don't know what you're doing." This is wrong. He shouldn't be here … with anyone.

She closes the gap between them, pushing her heavy breasts against his chest. "I'm a big girl, Ronon. I know exactly what I'm doing…and what I want." She slips her hand inside his pants. "Let the tiger come out and play a while?"

Ronon grips her wrist and she winces. He leans down, his lips so close to hers he can practically taste the mint on her breath. "I'm not in a good mood, doctor."

Ignoring his wrist lock, she flicks her fingers along his package, firming him up. "What kind of mood are you in now?" She raises her brows coyly.

Grabbing her head in both hands, Ronon pulls her mouth to his and crushes her lips in a bruising, possessive kiss. She doesn't shrink away; she battles back just as fiercely. Teeth clash, tongues seek, lips merge and suck. At the same time, she's struggling to undo his pants with her free hand as her other one continues the warm, tantalizing torment within.

Ronon releases her, both of them gasping. Desire burns in her eyes and blood gorges his groin, stiffening him painfully. She finally frees him from his trousers and her eyes dart to his exposed erection. A dark smile tugs at her mouth. "That for me?"

Ronon groans, rolling his eyes. He presses firmly on her shoulders until she understands what he wants. "You'll do."

She kneels in front of him, using her hands, her tongue, surrounding him with her lips and all thought leaves him. He cares about nothing except the feel of a hot mouth engulfing him, taking him in. He buries his hands in thick hair, gripping tight as he thrusts his hips forward, forcing himself deeper into the moist heat. Moans and whimpers barely register past his grunting as he keeps a firm hold with his hands, pushing himself inside with urgency. Fucking a mouth as eagerly as he would a wet core is nothing new to him…feels just as satisfying in fact.

There's a sharp pain and his breath hitches, bringing him back to the moment. He looks down, seeing a glint of anger in her eyes, but it's muffled by the strong desire still present. "That's enough of that," she says, getting to her feet.

Gripping her upper arms and squeezing, he growls: "I'm not finished."

"Good," she sneers. "Then do something else with it."

Ronon bares his teeth. "You shouldn't be so eager, doctor."

"Just shut up and fuck me already, Ronon."

She moves to kiss him again and that breaks the last of his restraint. He pushes her face first into the nearest wall, grasping her wrists and hauling them over her head. He locks them together with one firm hand.

Using his knee, he spreads her legs as he hikes the skirt up over her hips. She's wearing a thin undergarment which he rips away easily, eliciting a sharp whimper and leaving a welt on her thighs. With a fierce, hard thrust he's inside and she cries out, obviously not as ready for him as she claimed. But it's too late now. He withdraws and slams into her again getting another cry. Over and over he plunges inside. He grabs her by the hair and yanks hard. "This is what you wanted!"

"Yes," she gasps.

Ronon releases his hold on her wrists and hair. He rakes his fingertips down the shirt back. Reaching the hem, he drives his hands underneath, around the front, grasping plump breasts and pinching taught nipples hard as he continues to grind. Her cheek rests against the wall and she whimpers with each powerful thrust. "…fuck you 'til it hurts," he grunts squeezing both nipples again.

"Yes! God yes. Harder!"

Ronon grabs the back of her neck and spins them both to the desk to the side. He shoves her forward, bending her at the waist. She grasps the far edge of the desk as she lays flat on top of it. Using his boots, Ronon slides her feet apart over the dirty floor, opening her further. Taking hold of her hips, he drives into her ruthlessly. Long hard strokes, from tip to base, slapping his body against hers with so much force, he's certain she'll have trouble walking for days. But he doesn't care. It feels too good.

She's whimpering again, crying out in incoherent words. Ronon can't deal with her right now. He presses down, his upper body crushing into her back. Her head comes up and he covers her mouth with his hand, stifling the noise as he slams into her over and over. He wishes she would have just stayed on her knees… He's so engorged, so hard, he desperately needs to cum. But as he pistons in and out of the hot, tight tunnel he knows it's not happening anytime soon.

As with most men of Sateda, Ronon's been cursed. It could take an hour for him to rupture. He doesn't want to spend that much time with this woman, no matter how enticing her muffled cries are or how good it feels to release control over his basic animal instincts and simply take what he needs…

He needs Alessa.

He wants Alessa.

He should be with Alessa. His heart hurts when he thinks of her. Tears burn, threatening… so he closes his eyes to keep them back. It's unfair. All these women who wish for him to do things to them. To fuck them without mercy. They really only want to take from him. But he has nothing to give. He has already lost his heart…his soul to Alessa…

But she doesn't want him. She's turned her back.

He will forget her. He will bury himself in any waiting woman who will have him. He'll take his pleasure and quell the pain.

Ronon wraps an arm around Wilkes' waist and lifts her, pulling her back against his chest as he continues jerking his hips, thrusting up inside her as she wanted…without respite, without tenderness. She gasps at the feel of his teeth on her neck. "You mean nothing to me," he groans in her ear without forethought, the words simply come.

"Same here," she hisses.

Ronon pulls out, spinning her in his arms, grabbing her in his large hands and shakes her once. Twice. "Then why am I here!"

She holds his eyes and smiles. An unseen hand grasps his cock, skimming over it, enticing him to remain hard. "For this." She flicks his tip and a shudder rushes up his spine. "I'm sick of seeing you mooning over Dr. D'Angelos. She's not good enough for you. She can't give you what you need."

So not everyone is as blind as he believes.

"And you can." What does this woman know of his needs? He only bedded her once a long time ago. She hasn't spoken with him since. Not even when he's seen her in the mess has she given him the smallest amount of her time. Only now. Only when she wants something does she come to him. This isn't about helping him release his tension… it's all about her.

"Try me."

Ronon rips open her shirt, buttons fly off in all directions. Her breasts heave beneath their thin cloth barrier. He yanks on the straps of her undergarment, snapping them and her breasts burst free from restraint. Pushing her back down onto the desk, Ronon buries his face in her chest as he buries himself to the hilt between her legs with another solid thrust. She's still not used to the feel of him, the fullness, he can tell by the way her body tenses in response to his size…and yet she wants this…wants him like this.

Her hands are in his hair, clutching him to her breasts. "You're a beautiful beast, Ronon…" she gasps. "This is what you're built for!"

"Shut up, woman!"

He can feel her knuckles brushing against his belly as she uses her hand to work for her own end. The tension in his gut against the motion of her hand is enough to push him harder. He's sweating; it drips down his back from under his hair. His shirt is drenched as are the pants still covering his legs. She means so little to him he never bothered to reveal more than his pulsing cock.

He's moving fast and furious, the desk shakes and squeaks against the onslaught of power. Dr. Wilkes is no match for him as he continues bombarding her with his thick, steel dick. She's panting with exhaustion while he still has energy to burn.

She'll burn with him.

He lifts her ankles to his shoulders, grasps her hips and pulls her against him as he shoves forth. The slap of bare skin on skin is only diminished by her cries – a mixture of pleasure and pain – and his grunts – a mixture of pleasure and rage.

She's using him so he's using her to sate his needs and he doesn't give a damn about hers. More than he needs to get off, he needs to forget. He's going to fuck her until he cums and he won't look back when he leaves.

He presses his weight on top of her again, bringing her legs with him. The angle, flexibility is difficult for her, he can see the wince flicker across her face but he doesn't stop moving, doesn't stop thrusting. He bites a nipple as he pinches the opposite harder than necessary and she screams. A thrill surges straight to his cock and he knows he's close now. Switching sides, he does the same thing and she screams again. He's hurting her and it's bringing him closer to his release. That should disturb him, but all he cares about is shoving himself as deep as possible into her willing body. It's incredible, the pleasure of taking her without giving, using her as nothing more than a substitute for his own hand.

Punishing her for not being the one he truly wants.

Pushing her knees against her shoulders, Ronon slams into her even harder than before. He grasps both breasts and squeezes, pinching the nipples until she whimpers in pain only to tremble with intense pleasure a moment later. Her hot juices flow as her insides clench around him, holding tight…he rides through her release, ignoring it…he's so close to his own.

He looks into her wide eyes. She whimpers as he pulls out and repeatedly shoves back in brutally, angrily as he speaks: "Don't–ever–speak–of Alessa–like that–again!"

Tears slip over her temples as she trembles once more, her body quaking through another orgasm. Ronon's eyes roll back into his head as he shudders through his bitter release with a howl cut off by clenched teeth.

Ronon pulls away from her and straightens himself. Nothing has changed. He's still in a rotten mood. In fact, he feels even worse now. Defiled somehow. He wants a shower. Wants to wash away this… female.

She lays there, exhausted, her legs down but still spread for him to see and she's staring at him with those wide eyes. "God you're amazing," she sighs.

"Come to me again and I will only punish you further."

"I look forward to it."

Shaking his head, he palms the door control. He will never understand these Earth women.

O-o-O-o-O
Sheppard finds him in the mess hall. He's pushing his food around his plate, not really bothering to eat it. The Colonel sits opposite him, his own tray clanking on the table. The man's not happy, that's obvious. "Radner has two cracked ribs."

Ronon can't look at him. The guilt over hurting the young soldier is enough to kill his appetite altogether. "Sorry."

"You should be," Sheppard says coolly. Silence stretches between the two as Sheppard starts to eat and Ronon picks at his own food. "I want you to talk with Heightmeyer." Ronon looks up sharply, glaring at Sheppard but the man holds his gaze without backing down. "Something's up with you. And I'm guessing it has to do with a certain lady scientist who's been holed up in her quarters for the past couple of weeks."

"It's nothing."

"If that was the case, you wouldn't be walking around the city looking for a fight every second of every day." Sheppard sighs. "Let me take a stab here. She shot you down." Ronon just stares at him. "You told her how you feel and she gave the 'let's be friends' speech. Am I right?"

Ronon grumbles an affirmative, shoving food into his mouth. He can't swallow around the lump in his throat so he downs half his glass of water.

"I'm sorry man," Sheppard says. "It sucks, I know."

"What could you know! You have no honor when it comes to women. Chasing after every one of them that smiles in your direction."

Sheppard's ire rises and his teeth clench. "For your information, I happen to have very strong feelings for someone who… let's just say I can't even imagine going a day without seeing her… but I can't. No, I won't give in to those feelings because it could screw everything up. Emotions compromise people. We have a close knit group here, Ronon. We live and breathe each other everyday with the threat of dying every other day. Sometimes you have to give up something you want just to ensure the survival of the whole."

"Then what's the point, Sheppard? If you live that way… giving up what means the most to you… then you're living as though you're already dead." With that Ronon shoves away from the table and stomps out of the mess.

As he storms down the corridor, letting the anger wash over him, Ronon realizes he's been doing exactly what he told Sheppard: behaving as if he is already dead because he's given up. He can't live like this. He can't give his heart to Alessa and not fight to get hers in return. She claims they have no future… that she's not what he needs. He's going to have to prove her wrong.

But how can he do that? How can he make her realize she belongs with him? That they belong to each other?

He's going to need help.