FANDOM: Stargate Atlantis
THEME: Physical Intimacy: Mouth/handjobs
John should have left her to the hunt; should have let her choose her 'mate' from the Mazanians, should have stayed behind the way they'd planned.
He regretted not listening to Rodney's warning. He regretted not keeping a better rein on his jealousy. He regretted letting her believe that he'd asked her to hunt him purely for show.
He would never regret kissing her.
Too late for second thoughts now.
Teyla should have protested when he edged her back to the bed, should have fought him off when he distracted her with kisses while he unlaced the short Mazanian dress, should have shoved him away when his hand touched skin as warm and smooth as liquid chocolate.
If John hadn't joined the hunt, hadn't asked her to catch him, another man would have been in here tonight. Another man would have brushed his fingers across her skin, would have cradled her jaw in his hand, would have suckled at her breasts until she whimpered with the ache.
Another man would have tasted the salt coffee of her skin, would have felt her thigh quiver as he slid his hand along it, would have suffered her nails biting into his bare shoulders as he worked her into ecstacy with his mouth and hands.
Another man didn't. John did.
Later, she traced his cheek with her fingers as he relaced her dress, careful to avoid her eyes until she spoke. "You did not need to--"
"I wanted to," he said, interrupting before she could excuse his actions. Again. "You should get what you hunted."
Her gaze shuttered. "I hunted a friend - at his request," she said quietly. "Not a lover."
"You got both, Teyla." He let his eyes linger on her mouth, on her body, on the skin he'd just covered up. "Deal with it."
Dark eyes watched him. "John..."
He knew his bitterness showed, but he'd been just 'a friend' to her for too long. Tonight, he'd wanted to be more - and the Mazanian hunt had given him the chance to pretend he was more - just this once.
"I wanted to," he repeated and held her gaze, almost defiantly.
Her hand touched his, sliding along the bare wrist, over his fingers, then, after a moment's hesitation, over the waistband of his pants. John caught his breath as her fingers touched him. "Teyla..."
"I want to do this." It was her turn to capture his gaze, dark eyes fire-lit in the dim inside of the hut. "Will you let me?"
John should have stopped her then; should have pushed her away; should have protested.
- fin -