Part: 2/5

Rating: M

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She surfaced from sleep occasionally, never quite falling into a deep sleep. Sharp calls woke her at one point, and she opened her eyes to see a bird circling high up overhead. She watched it's outstretched wings, shifting on the unseen air currents from the sea. Air currents that had become cool across the beach, brushing uncomfortably up over her, but as the sand felt warmer under the blanket, she did not feel inclined to leave her restful place just yet. She sleepily turned onto her left side, towards John's warmth beside her, and she reached down to pull the far edge of her blanket over her legs.

John shifted beside her, drawing her attention, and he lifted an arm over her head with a silent invitation to keep her warm. She shuffled forward to lie almost against his side, his arm around her back. He pulled up the edge of the blanket up over her back to cover her further, trapping the material between his warm arm and her back. She rested her temple against his upper arm, the warmth of his close body banishing away most of the chill. She closed her eyes again, the bird's call soft in the air.

She rose from sleep again to feel her warm pillow shifting, and she opened her eyes to see John turning towards her to lie on his side. His arm was her pillow still, and she watched through sleepy eyes as he tugged the edge of his blanket over himself too keep out the cool air. She closed her eyes again, feeling more comfortable now with their bodies turned towards one another creating a warmer space between them. One of her knees was resting between his she noted absently, and she shifted her foot forward, settling it too within the warmth of his legs, her bare foot meeting his. He sighed slightly as he settled properly, his warm breath brushing over her cheek and she sighed as well, slipping back into sleep.

His cheek brushed against hers, the faint roughness of his jaw catching against her skin enough to draw her back to awareness of the sound of the ocean and his breathing against her. His lips brushed against her cheek and she turned towards the contact. His breath warm over her skin, she was aware of only that sensation, his lower lip catching slightly against her cheek.

She turned further towards his mouth, her lips touching against his. He breathed in against her, drawing in through his nose and out, his out breath hot against her skin. His lips brushed against hers, soft and super sensitive. Nothing existed in her sleepy consciousness except that point of contact, of the fullness of his lower lip, catching ever so slightly against hers, then touching with more pressure, which she returned it. His lips were warm against hers, pressing and then softening off, for her to seek them out again, pressing her lips to his again.

As their lips parted from each other's the soft sound of the kiss could be heard, drawing her awareness further to what was occurring, but not enough to prevent her from leaning forward to meet his lips again. His lips parted under hers a fraction this time, then sliding, grazing to capture her lower lip between his.

He drew her lip between his, the warm sensation now slight damp as she felt the presence of the inside of his mouth. She set her lips further around his, and touched her tongue against his lip. She felt and heard his intake of breath at the small contact, and their mouths parted to capture each other again and this time she parted her lips, resting them against his and touched her tongue forward, meeting his in the hot wet place where their mouths met.

She tilted her head to set her mouth further against his, sliding the tip of her tongue against his, their breaths combining. His tongue withdrew, the suction of his mouth strong on her lips, and she pressed closer to maintain it for a moment longer, before they parted again with the kiss sounding soft and loud between them.

Her eyes still closed, his mouth from hers now, she licked her lips and settled her head back into the warm cradle of his arm, pressing her body closer to him. His body drew even closer to hers, the weight of his arm over her drawing her closer. Then the soft touch of his lips against her cheek, sliding up to her cheekbone and then away, for his cheek to rest against her temple. She drew in the warm, John-scented air around her and once again surrendered to the heavy pull of sleep.

The wash of the ocean was louder and closer when she next woke, the air breezing over her side as John had rolled away slightly onto his back again. She lay snuggled up to his side, tense against the cold that told her that it was well into the night now. She opened her eyes to see that the beach was far darker than before, and the desire to get inside rose up insistently.

She sat up carefully, one of her feet chilled where it had been stretched out from the blanket and John. She brushed her hair from her face, blinking as she drew both her feet back well under the blanket, trying to focus her sleepy mind.

"John," she uttered, setting one hand against his chest and adding a slight shake to wake him. He grunted slightly, then louder with a shudder that told her that he too felt the new late chill to the air.

She sat up further from him, wriggling her toes to circulate warmth, and she ran both her hands over her hair and down her neck, struggling to wake herself enough to get up from the blankets.

John sat up next to her, the movement abrupt to her sleepy consciousness. He lifted his arm, turned to look at his watch. She could not see as much of him as before, the night darker and more clouds blocking the moonlight from above.

"It's really late," he muttered.

"And colder," she whispered back, turning her face into the cold air off the ocean, hoping the chill would help focus her further.

"We should head back," he suggested, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He moved quickly though as he got up, faster than she felt able.

She got up to her feet, the sand colder under her the soles of her feet as she stepped from the blankets. As John gathered up the blankets, carrying them away to the shelter, she pulled her sandal straps from her belt and worked to disentangle them from one another. As she did so, she looked towards the tempting shelter. They could sleep in there, as was common she suspected, but it was open on all sides to the chilled air off the ocean and she just wanted to get to a soft bed to sleep properly. John emerged from the shelter as she dropped her sandals to the sand and slipped into them, loosely securing them enough to walk.

John turned, looking up towards the bank behind the shelter where there was no set path, but there would be enough purchase for them to climb it. He looked back to her to ask, but she was already moving towards it with him. She was too sleepy to attempt to run towards the bank, which would have helped, instead she accepted John's outstretched hand and together they scrambled up the bank, faster than she would have expected in their currently sleepy state. The burst of adrenaline it took woke her a little further, and as they reached the top, she looked down the length of the bank's top path to judge where to head into the gardens.

"This way," John told her, tugging on her hand that he still held. He pushed forward, not down a path, but into the vegetation.

She followed him, trusting him, but had to wonder if he was awake enough to judge the direction correctly. "The garden lights are all down, are you sure you know which way to go?" She asked his back, his white shirt faintly visible in the thick darkness of the night and the press of trees around them.

"The path turned to the right around these trees, so we should hit it if we head straight," he replied. "You're usually the one with the homing pigeon skills," he told her over his shoulder, his tone amused. He headed around a large tree and pushed on in a roughly straight line.

"I am too tired to think straight," she confessed to him, just walking, following the light of his shirt and the gentle pull of his fingers among hers. She noted that her fingers were intertwined with his, and that she had not noticed until now. Such an intimate way to hold someone's hand and she had just slipped into it with him without any awareness of doing so. The memories of softly shared kisses only infused her with more of a sense of everything seeming abstract and ethereal around her. She wondered if this were some dream and that she was still asleep on the beach beside him, or perhaps still asleep on her bed from this afternoon. She shook her head at the thoughts, stumbling almost, and just kept following him, time seemingly stretched out, yet she also knew that not much time had passed.

"Torren has not been sleeping well," she found herself saying towards John's shirt. "He wakes in the night and crawls into my bed, and I find myself unable to sleep very deeply, worried that he may wake or that I may roll onto him in my sleep," she confessed to his back.

"You won't," John told her with conviction that made her wonder how he could be so certain.

She pushed aside a small branch from her hair and as she released it, she saw the faintest light ahead through the vegetation.

"Here's a path," John whispered to her, as if there was need to conceal their presence.

The trees parted enough around them that she could see the break ahead, into which John stepped down and onto the path. He reached back for her, his hand pulling from hers, and she let him help her down onto the path. The ground being more solid here, she felt the call of the hotel and finally she felt more orientated as to where they were.

"This way," she pointed down the path and moved forward, John at her shoulder, his hand no longer around hers. His presence was very close beside her though, since they could barely see one another along the now dark path. It was so late that even the path lights had been extinguished, yet they followed the path with few problems.

"The hotel's lights are all off," John remarked quietly from her side and she looked forward, through the thinning trees and shrubs around them, to see that he was correct, for earlier tonight they had been able to see the hotel from this point. She had a moment of doubt that perhaps they had taken the wrong path, but dismissed it, for the path turned and they were back on the long straight route to the hotel up ahead. Only one light was in fact still shining, and it was from the side where one of the pools was located. It was likely that on the other side of the complex, where the main entrance was located, that there would be more lights on, but not this side.

"We may have to go round to the very front," she suggested.

"I think I left the patio door of my room open," John replied, "we can get in that way."

She let out a breath of relief and then glanced to him. "Your room is on the ground floor?" Though his shirt was a faint glow in the night, she could barely even see the outline of his body and no detail of his face.

"Yes," he replied and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Good, I do not think I could handle climbing up balconies just now," she replied with relief. I just need a soft bed on which to lie," she said the last words with deep feeling. "Somewhere comfortable to rest." The prospect was so enticing that she realised that she was walking faster, desperate to get inside. The air was cool, but she did not notice, so intent on getting back to the hotel.

As the path left the trees and flowerbeds behind, the moonlight became brighter, allowing her to see details of the building ahead of them, and she could finally see John again beside her. They reached the hotel building and John pushed ahead, looking up at the building to orientate himself to where his room was located.

They headed round to the right side of the outcropping of the building, passing one large swimming pool. The only light this side of the complex, not so bright now in the moonlight, turned out to be a single source shining just over the pool's surface, presumably to warn people of its location in the depth of the night's darkness.

"This way," John uttered quietly, and they moved around the pool and through the empty café area beside it. It was strange to be walking through a normally busily populated area as this without anyone else around.

They reached the low walls that ran around the small seating areas outside the lower floors at this side of the building. John worked his way along, until he paused and climbed over the wall of one patio. Teyla waited at the wall, watching as he moved through the moonlight to the large glass door that led into the hotel room beyond. There was a thin curtain on the inside and John peered cautiously through a break in it to look inside.

"This is it," he whispered.

"You are sure?" She asked amused as she climbed over the wall herself. "For if you are not, this may be very embarrassing for all concerned," she told him as she reached his side.

He looked back at her with a moonlit smile and pulled at the door handle. The door opened under his hand and he slid it to the side and parted the curtains inside.

"See, told you," he said back at her with confidence that she realised he had lacked before.

She gave him a look and moved past him into the room as he held the curtain aside. The room inside was almost identical to hers, though larger. A large bed stood set against the wall opposite, its plush thick mattress calling to her.

"Thank the Ancestors," she muttered to herself as she loosened her sandals from her feet. Behind her, John slid the door shut again, securing it closed. She kicked her sandals aside and headed to the bed, the prospect of sleep already pulling at her.

She reached the foot of the bed and set one knee on the mattress before he stopped her.

His body was suddenly against her back, his hands on her upper arms, and his breath warm over the side of her neck. She paused, the sudden sensual moment pulling her from the promise of sleep, to the sudden prospect of his kiss again. The kisses before had been a small moment, a simple kiss that could have been explained away, but his hands were heavy on her arms now and she leant into the warmth of his breath, his chest against her back.

His hands slid from her arms, reaching around her, enfolding her in his presence as his arms surrounded her from behind, enclosing her in his embrace. She rested back further against him, inhaling the sensation of him around her, and reached back to his sides, gripping tight handfuls of his shirt, as he nuzzled his nose and mouth against her right cheek. She tilted her head into that touch, that promise, hearing his needful breathing as loud and fast as her own.

The ethereal quality of the night was continuing it seemed, and she found herself caught up in its spell once more. The room was full of shadows around them, but moonlight enough entered through the curtain behind him to send light over the bed before them.

His mouth pressed to her cheek, his tongue within the kiss, licking against her skin. The passion welled up inside of her, intense in a manner she could not recall feeling before, and perhaps another aspect of this lingering magical spell from this evening. She pressed herself back further against him, bunching up more of his shirt in her hands so that her fingertips eventually met his skin. She ran her hands across that exposed skin, his sides warm and full of life under her touch. He kissed her cheek again, his breath loud by her ear and she closed her eyes tightly, surrendering to the situation.

She turned her head, seeking out his mouth with her own, and tightly pressed her lips to his. The kiss instantly became hungry, his tongue sliding into her mouth for the first time and she heard herself whimper, grasping at his side and his arms over her.

She licked into the kiss, sliding her tongue with his and his arms loosened around her, one hand dropping to rest over her middle, massaging a wide circle over her stomach through her top. She gasped into the sensation, his mouth sliding to her throat, pressing his face into her neck, his mouth hot and wet on her skin.

A deep rhythm had somehow began within her, and she did not know if it was her own heartbeat that set the rhythm, but it seemed to be there, pulsing through her, his circles over her belly in time with it, his licking circling against her skin and she squeezed his sides in time with it. Her breathing broke with the rhythm as she pressed right back against him, a tight grip on his waistband to press her backside against his groin. She felt the elemental hardness of him pressing back and she sighed out loudly with the feel of it, of the knowing of the desire, of the passion, and she abandoned herself to the moment completely.

Her legs loosened under her and she leant forward, reaching for the support of the bed, but he leant forward with her, keeping his groin and chest against her, and together they kept falling, their knees hitting the thick hotel carpet at the foot of the bed. She gripped tight handfuls of the bed's covers before her, leaning in towards it, rubbing back against him in time with that basic rhythm, his mouth and hand keeping in time, raising the speed of it and she whimpered. In another place or another more mindful time, she may have regretted the sounds she made, the cries and sighs, and the fact that she did not care, too lost in the pure moment to even consider her actions and cries.

She released the bed and grasped at his sides again, pushing her hands back under his shirt to his skin. His hands dropped down her front, rushing up under her top in turn, drawing it up and she lifted her arms up for him to pull it from her. With her arms stretched high above her head, the air met her heightened nipples, teasing them further, and the top aside, she reached her hands back to touch his head and neck behind her. His mouth was once again at her neck, sucking and kissing, but his hands…his hands slid around her, over her breasts, sliding and cupping. The rhythm pounded still, rotating in time with her hips and his hands on her. She arched her body, pressing against his manhood and her breasts further into his hands.

Over her shoulders, she gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled upwards. He pulled his arms from around her, his back parting from hers for only a moment and she saw his shirt falling to the floor to their right, but already his hands were back over her and the warm texture of his chest hair teased against her back. She dropped her head forward, her hair falling around her head, and saw his hands sliding over her bared skin, gripping her breasts and sliding down to her skirt's waistband.

His mouth slid over the back of her shoulder, his tongue wet, his breath hot and his lips soft up to the back of her neck. She arched back up as his hand slid under the waistband of her skirt, cupping her through her underwear. He caressed, in time with her rocking, his hips moving with her and she gripped the end of the bed again.

She reached down with her free hand and pushed at her skirt, pushing it down and he helped, pushing the garment down her thighs. She set her hands on the end of the bed again and pushed herself up onto her feet, his hands holding her skirt as she stood up from it. She steadied herself with a hand tight in his hair as she stepped from the skirt, turning towards him.

His palms slid up her bare legs, straight up to her hips, gripping tightly as she turned to face him. She looked down her body to where he knelt, his mouth pressing against her lower belly as he caught the edges of her underwear and pulled them down in one swift decisive move. She fell down over him as he did, unable to wait longer, her hands sliding over his naked shoulders, along the lines of his neck and down his back, watching the filtered moonlight shining over his skin. As her knees met the floor again, she pressed her mouth to his shoulder. He pulled back, having pulled her underwear down to her lower legs at least before he abandoned the task to slide his hands up her thighs, to tightly grip both sides of her backside.

She lifted her mouth to his, the kiss hot, open, and holding nothing back, as she ran her hands down his chest. The hair there teased her fingers, and she ran her hands over the flat plain of muscles, gripping occasionally, in time with their rocking kiss and his squeezing of her backside. She found the tight small peaks of his nipples and slid her fingertips over them. He broke his mouth from hers with a hiss through his teeth, so she repeated the action, gaining a brief glance of his chest in the moonlight as he pulled back only to press back against her, pushing her to lean back against the end of the bed behind her.

His mouth touched down at the base of her throat and she ran her hands up his neck, wrapping her fingers around the back of his neck and then up into her hair. His mouth slid down her chest, enclosing around one of her nipples and she cried out, arching back further, his hands still on her backside and she rocked into his grasp.

His mouth was wet, licking over and over her nipple, sliding over to bury his face in her cleavage and sliding onto her other nipple. At her backside, his hands pulled her hips against his middle, one hand sliding lower and his fingers quested between her legs. Stroking with one long finger, again in time with their rhythm, of her breathing, of his mouth sucking on her breast, he slid along the line of her womanhood, parting her folds with his touch. She rubbed back against him, angling herself to help him, and as his fingertip circled her entrance she cried out the loudest. She could feel her own wetness meeting his touch and as his finger slid inside, she gasped out his name, arching fully back now, her shoulders against the top of the bed.

His hand left her body, sliding around her hip as he pulled his mouth from her chest, and he pulled her down over him. She rested against his chest, running her arms around him as he turned, laying them both to the floor. As he twisted, she rolled with him, lying down onto her back as he moved over her. His mouth returned to her breasts, sucking one nipple, and she began wriggling to the rhythm against the floor and him. She heard the jangle of his belt buckle and reached down to feel him shedding his trousers, her hands meeting the naked skin of his hips as he did. He pulled up from her, sitting back as he pulled his clothes away.

She lay on the floor, her body pulsing with the beat, watching his arousal revealed, straining for her. As he threw the last of his clothing aside, she stretched her legs out on either side of his hips as he sat down on the carpet. He ran his hands down her legs as she set her feet on either side of his hips, and she watched through the moonlight as his hands slid up to her hips, and one continuing up her stomach to massage one of her breasts. She moved with the massage and parted her legs further, her outer thighs resting against his legs stretched out either side of her.

His hand slid back down her, joining his other one to part her intimately and he slid his thumb around her centre, his fingers over her mound as he slid his thumb into her. She arched again, gasping, desperate for more, for him, and she pushed herself up from the floor. She gripped his strong toned shoulders to pull herself up onto his lap, her legs around his waist.

He wrapped his arms around her, assisting her up, and she reached between them, touching his manhood, feeling the heat and softness of it around the hard want. She rose up higher and he pulled her right up against his chest, his mouth against her neck as she guided him to her centre and pushed down onto him. He groaned out loudly against her throat, his mouth open against her skin. She held onto him tightly, one arm around his head, clutching his hair as she held him close. Immediately the rocking rhythm began, rubbing together, pulling him from her a small amount and pushing back inside. He groaned with her, her moaned sighs her outlet as the passion rose even higher.

She pulled back from him enough to look down their joined bodies, watching them rocking together. He gripped around her hips and pushing her away, pulling himself out and then pulling her flush back against him, burying right back inside. She watched the action again, pulling back with him, and pushing right back against his groin with her own. She dropped her head back, adding a roll to her hips with the next joining. He groaned deeply, ending in a long loud breath as he repeated the movement.

She reached back behind her to support herself on straight arms against the floor, leaning back, her backside meeting his lower legs now folded under her slightly. She continued the pulling and pushing of their joining, sliding them together along the full length of him. One of his hands rose up her body, clasping her skin, at her waist, at her ribs and then up over her nipples to her neck, over her shoulder and back down to massage her breast. She moaned with the touch, looking back to him, seeing his eyes directly on her breasts and then down to where they were parting and rejoining. His mouth was open, his lips pouted around his loud breaths and she shoved herself against him harder, faster, the pleasure mounting so fast, so out of control.

The pleasure was travelling, building within her and she pushed off the carpet to reach for him again. He pulled her back against him, one arm around her, the other still grasping her breast that in another moment may have been rough, but right now it was perfectly intense, rousing and telling her how desperate he also felt.

She pressed her chest even tighter against him, pressing her open mouth to his, breathing against him as much as she was kissing him. He gripped her hips with both hands, his fingers over her backside and pulled her to him as much as she pressed. The pace was growing even faster and she arched up, groaning loudly, rocking, swaying and grinding in any way with him that made the friction increase. She reached down between them, touching against her self, knowing how to push herself to the point that he was almost approaching, but he released her hip and his fingers covered hers, pressing where she pressed. She willingly surrendered the position, setting her fingers over his, showing through pressure how to touch her, and he immediately found the rhythm, the angle and she groaned, the pleasure shattering abruptly.

She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into him, reaching past him with one hand to the bed behind him as she ground against him, her head thrown back as she cried out. The passion was a wash over her, overtaking completely and lasting what seemed like forever. He pushed her back, folding himself over as he laid her down. He pushed into her, leaning right over her, his head over her chest. She wrapped her hands around his head, holding him to her as she felt him release his seed into her, and his groans pressed against her chest as he kept thrusting. Safe in the knowledge that she was currently protected from pregnancy she surrendered to it, of the moment of his release within her.

He shifted, lifting her with him as he twisted, laying her back down again to the side so that he now could lay partially over her and he thrust out the last of his pleasure. She gripped him tightly, one leg high up around his middle and he reached down between them again to touch her as she had shown him. Surprised by the focus, she moaned with pleasure, grinding against the touch, his arousal still buried inside her.

His mouth closed over one of her nipples again, wetly sucking as he shuddered another few times into her, his fingers rubbing and caressing softly and then with more pressure, capturing his hand between their bodies as he laid down fully over her. The last of his energy was gone, his body relaxing as he lost himself into the warm pleasure ridden place that she was once again entering. His fingers pressed tight, and she wrapped her legs around him further, pulling him tighter to her. She rocked in his embrace, running her hands through his hair where his mouth panted against her throat. He lay naked over her, and the sight of that in the moonlight, of another brief shudder through his body, of his touch against her, and the feeling his seed between her legs and she was lost again. She arched between him and the floor, her head pressed back against the carpet as she groaned out loudly the deep penetrating release.

He ran his mouth over her skin, kissing her throat as she moaned out one last time, shuddering and her hands clasped tightly around his shoulders. The release felt amazing, the warmth spreading and her entire body dropped yet again into a place of complete relaxed exhaustion.

She lay back, breathing loudly yet smoothly with her pleasure, John's face buried into her neck. He was breathing loudly still, long out breaths that moved them together, the rhythm now slower, calmer, and full of pleasure. She breathed that natural beat, the overwhelming peace engulfing her.

His arms slid around her, drawing her from the soft peaceful half sleep, and she surrendered to that as well, feeling his arms under her, his chest briefly against her side and then the most amazing soft comfort of a bed under her.

She rolled into that comfort, his warmth following her, his body against hers. She caught at his hand, or his arm, she could not tell, except that his warmth folded over her, the softness under her and she finally fell into deep sleep.

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Onto Part 3