The One You Hold
Martouf stood behind her, his body molded into her curves. They were alone, isolated in a chamber deep within the tunnels, built specifically for this purpose. One arm firmly supported hers, and the other was wrapped tightly around her waist. Whispered words of encouragement danced in her ear. His warm breath caressed her neck, urging her to give in and let go. She grasped his hand, leading it up to cup her breast...
Yesterday's hand device lesson had not lasted long.
Embarrassed by the memory, Samantha Carter was lying neck deep in steaming hot water, just starting to relax from the intense strain she had endured these last few days. She and her team were training with the Tok'ra, and today's activities had involved hand-to-hand combat techniques. Although she considered herself quite fit, the enhanced physical abilities the Tok'ra gained from their symbiotes had proved exhausting for all the unblended humans participating in the exercise.
She had been host to a Tok'ra once, briefly, but that encounter had left her nothing more than scattered, lingering memories and an altered body chemistry. She had noticed an increased resistance to illness though, she hadn't even had a cold since Jolinar had borrowed her body. Today, she had wished for even a hint of increased endurance, but none appeared. So she was soaking away her aches and pains, and trying to forget everything else.
Sam's immediate superior, Colonel O'Neill, had pushed his team as far as they could go, but recognized total exhaustion when he saw it, and had called for an end to the day's events. Teal'c was probably still trading techniques with some of their hosts, his Jaffa training and abilities a serious match for the Tok'ra. Daniel, on the other hand had lasted only about an hour. Although Sam had finished and enjoyed the day's events, she had found it extremely trying. Not only the physical aspect, but the intensity of working so intimately with Martouf had been something she obviously was unprepared for.
Initially, she had been paired with a newer member of the resistance and they had quickly established a rapport. Teal'c fought opposite Aldwin, the Tok'ra who had been charged with the destruction of Naetu, and they had gotten along well. Daniel left rather quickly after being thrown about like a rag doll, as he explained it, choosing instead to spend time with a young woman who was delighted to share information on Tok'ra culture. Jack had been paired alternatively with her father Jacob, and with Martouf. He had worked well with Jacob and Selmak, but when Martouf or Lantesh had offered any kind of instruction, Jack had only listened selectively. Her father had noticed the tension between the two men and suggested they just switch partners.
If only it had been as simple as that.
Spending the afternoon learning holds and throws with the man whose mate had once possessed her mind, proved to be just as distracting as her fumbled hand device lesson. Every time Martouf had touched her, she not only had to struggle with her own growing attraction, but their proximity released a steady flurry of Jolinar's buried memories. Vivid flashes of the life Jolinar had shared with him came alive with his every word, every glance, and every grasp...
She had seen the beaded sweat on his upper lip, and watched as Jolinar gently tongued it away. Relived the solace Jolinar found in his body after returning from yet another solitary mission. Felt his arms surround her, holding her immobile as he tumbled her to the floor, taking her playfully and then again, seductive and slow. Remembered the smell of his sex. The sounds he made when he came...
She watched as the memories unfolded. Fought every impulse. And hoped she didn't react.
Not like yesterday.
Though yesterday she had been alone with him.
This time, she relived her own memories. His well muscled arms holding her. His seductive breath tickling her neck. The hand device forgotten as she had acted on impulse and tried to entice him. Slowly she moved his hand up to her breast, and for a few glorious moments he'd reacted just as she had wanted him to...
Practiced, calloused fingers sinking underneath the cotton of her black shirt. His hand easily displacing the depths of fabric between them. The warmth of his palm enveloping her; fingertips touching and teasing until her nipple pressed hard against him. Feeling him harden against her back.
And just as he had lowered his mouth to her neck, Jack had wandered in.
"Working hard, Major?" The colonel asked glibly.
"Sir," was all she could manage as she let her hand holding the weapon fall to her side. Martouf slowly extracted his hand from her chest, returning to circle her waist, and made no move to release her.
Jack stood with his hands in his pockets, obviously unimpressed. "Am I interrupting something besides a weapons demonstration?"
"Nothing that can not be continued in your absence," Martouf challenged.
Sam almost smiled.
"Major, a word."
He had proceeded to remind her of her duty, her responsibilities, and that personal relationships were something to explore off duty and preferably not with a reformed Goa'uld, thank you very much.
She resented the lecture. How dare he go traipsing around the galaxy like James T. Kirk with a woman on every planet, and counsel her not to pursue a relationship with Martouf! At least she had met him more than once. Okay, so she hadn't spent a hundred days working and living with him, but she did have memories of spending the last hundred years with him!
Somehow, she had restrained herself from arguing with Jack. Pissing him off wouldn't help, so she thanked him for his concern and excused herself in order to get back to the hand device instruction. Martouf immediately caught her back up in his arms, whispered in her ear and Jack glared at them as he left the room.
Soon after Jack left, Martouf had Korra finish the hand device lesson, telling her she might actually learn how to use the deadly weapon from him. She would rather have learned other kinds of skills from Martouf, but instead fueled her sexual frustration into blowing a rather large hole in the crystal wall. Even Garshaw had been impressed.
Today, she knew she had probably held her would-be lover a moment or two longer in each hold than was absolutely necessary, and he had responded in kind. They shared more than a few unsubtle glances, and she had to keep reminding herself that she was here to learn, but her mind kept wandering and had an increasing tendency to take her body along for the ride.
As a result she had made a number of stupid mistakes.
Those errors had led to several large developing bruises and she looked down to inspect the damage. A deep purple mark the size of a hand was visible on her left forearm, and her upper right thigh had almost a greenish yellow tinge. Damn! How could she have been so careless? She should have insisted on stopping at that point and applying a cold pack, but hadn't wanted to admit her distraction to anyone. Though they had noticed anyway. She had been chided verbally by Jack and silently by Selmak.
Martouf however had been infinitely patient, helping her to center herself each time with the same encouragement he'd whispered yesterday in her ear. And once as he held her tight within a hold, he managed to surreptitiously nuzzle her ear. Then she had thrown him, turning the distraction into tactical advantage. He had smiled in approval.
She had left the training area embarrassed about her mistakes, exhausted and aroused. Then she had fled to the bathing chamber Daryan had showed her upon SG-1's arrival. Hot water and spicy smelling soap had never felt better, even if it gave her too much time to ponder.
"Samantha?" Martouf's voice startled her back to the present. "Are these injuries from this afternoon?"
He moved to take a closer look, but she plunged her arm deeper into the water, attempting to hide the bruise and her naked body. "Are you sneaking up on me, again?" she asked. It would not be the first time, she mused.
"I assure you that was not my intent. I came to check on you." He answered as if it were the most natural thing in the universe for him to be concerned. She wished it was. "You have been absent for a substantial amount of time."
"I'm fine, really." She tried to downplay her injuries, grimacing a bit as she plunged her arm into the water. "I was just relaxing. The water feels good."
"Yes, but it will aggravate your bruising." He stood right next to her, leaning down over the water. "May I have a look?"
She stiffened, just a bit. "At what?"
"Your injuries," he said matter-of-factly. Sam hesitated, but then offered him her arm.
He probed the wound lightly, his fingers lightly tracing the discoloration. "This is deep. There is another on your thigh?" She nodded. "Had I realized the extent I would have called a halt. Why did you not say anything?"
"I... ah," she muttered, not really wanting to say it out loud. "I was distracted."
"By me." He surmised, apparently pleased by that fact.
"By you," she confirmed, waiting for his reaction. She gazed at his face, noticing for the first time how arched his eyebrows were. Gray eyes caught up with hers, and she managed a small smile. "I should get out of the water."
"A good idea," he agreed extending an arm to help her.
Sam felt her cheeks rising in temperature, but hoped it wasn't very noticeable as the rest of her body was still pink from the hot water. She hesitated, not entirely sure of whether to accept his assistance or not. She thought he would probably leave when she announced she was getting out. He didn't seem to notice the effect of his gesture, and she looked down.
"You are uncertain," he said with a bemused tone.
"Uncertain of what?"
"Well," he smiled knowingly. "Either of getting out of the water or of showing yourself to me."
"Is nothing personal amongst the Tok'ra?"
"Of course, do you wish for me to leave?"
"Not really."
"Then get out of the tub, Samantha."
Now, it seemed more of a challenge, and she grabbed his proffered hand and rose out of the water easily. Atop the raised tub, she towered over him as the water rushed down her body in unpredictable streams until only tiny droplets remained, clinging to her hair and skin.
She watched Martouf as his eyes grew wide and made no attempt to cover herself. Allowing him this look, she watched his eyes as they traced the outside of her body. He seemed to take as much time admiring her stomach as her breasts, and slowly his eyes completed the circle, ending on her own.
Sam held out her left hand and he inched closer to her, slowly pulling her towards him. Powerful hands supported her as he lifted her down from the tub. She felt her arms wrapping around his neck almost unconsciously and drew him closer as her feet met the smooth rock floor.
Other than a brief but sensual hand holding and a few compassionate gestures, this was the first time she had ever been in his arms without their respective occupations being the reason. She felt water dripping on his clothing, but he seemed hesitant to let go of her. She finally broke away from the unintentional embrace. "I should dry off."
He handed her a cloth from a small pile near the entrance to the bathing chamber. "Thanks," she smiled and started to rub her body dry.
He made no movement to leave. "Samantha..."
"Yeah," she answered, still busy drying herself. He was only inches away.
"I was not entirely truthful when I told you why I was in here."
A warm shiver hit at the base of her spine, tingling both her mind and body. She struggled a bit trying to reach her back. "Why are you in here, Martouf?"
"I wished to see you," he said softly, relieving her of the towel. He stroked her back lightly with the soft material, completing her task. "To see all of you. And finish what you started yesterday."
Her body reacted.
Much faster than her brain.
And she felt a dampness between her thighs that wasn't from the water.
Sam was shocked by the ferocity of her response. Never in her life, had simple words had such an effect. He hadn't kissed her, hadn't really touched her with sexual intent, but with his voice, his rough silky voice, his words alone had seduced her.
Now, she wanted the rest.
She turned around slowly and took the towel back playfully, moving to cover herself. "So you didn't come in here just to ogle me in the bath?"
"No," he said plainly.
"You're not usually so forward," she observed as his fingers skimmed provocatively over hers. The towel held perilously in her grasp.
"No," he agreed, seizing her wrists. "However, we are not usually together long. And not under such favorable circumstances. Therefore, I am not wasting any more time."
Sam let Martouf guide her backwards toward the side of the tub. As he pressed into her, she could feel the strength of his muscled legs pushing into hers, and just a hint of his lust only slightly higher. Part of her couldn't let go of his last words. "Talking to me is a waste of time?"
"Never..." he promised as his hands conducted her own, playing scintillating rhythms all over her breasts. She gasped, fighting for control of her reaction, as her nipples hardened under her own touch. She finally let go and the flimsy towel fluttered to the ground. Forgotten.
And with it, went her doubts. All the insecurities she harbored about his former mate, the validity of her feelings towards him, and the way he might feel about her. She let them all simply float away...
She grinned as she watched his head duck beneath hers and anticipated the feel of his mouth on her neck, but it never came. Instead, moist warm breath caressed her, circling a swollen breast, until thankfully his lips brushed her skin. Then he suckled, flicking his tongue around her until she squirmed.
Martouf seemed to take her reaction as a hint and stopped, then lifted her until her still damp rump rested on the side of the pool.
"Much better," he breathed.
She wondered what could possibly be better than his tongue dancing over her, and why on earth had he stopped. "Better for what?"
"This," he murmured just before his mouth found hers.
Sheer exotic bliss.
Instantly, she forgave him for deserting her breast, relishing his warm, spicy flavor. His tongue swept over her lips and she parted her mouth in voracious invitation, knowing he was as hungry as she. His exploration was thorough but urgent, and she quickly demanded a brief search of her own, entangling his tongue with hers. His lips broke from hers and skimmed down her neck.
One last thought permeated her. "Martouf?"
"Yes," he mouthed somewhere near her ear.
"Will..." she started, but his erotic improvisation blurred her thoughts. "Mmmm... will anyone likely disturb us in here?"
"No," he vowed. "I have made sure we will not be interrupted."
Then, true to his word, he wasted no more time.
Sliding down until he was on his knees, he worshipped her with his mouth. His lips fluttered over her flushed skin, hungry and hot. She shivered as his hands hastily parted her thighs, then paused to play within a thatch of damp curls. His fingers began to explore her, tentative and light and painfully brief. She let out a short murmur of disappointment, then gasped when his thumb found her sex.
Waves of anticipation lapped at her body. It had been so long and never. Lonely years had passed since she had allowed herself such pleasure in the arms of another. And never was it like this. He was slowly savoring her. Lavish, lingering kisses followed in the wake of his fingertips, flooding her with warmth. Distinguishing between touch and tongue became impossible.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she played with his short hair, running both hands through it rhythmically as he dined. She pulled gently, and loved the pleasurable sounds he made. And when his hands came to rest on the crook of her thighs, she involuntarily pulled again. Not so gently this time.
His thumbs plunged inside her.
She moaned, arching closer.
Felt him mold her like a skilled artisan.
Spellbound by his expertise, she opened her eyes to see him watching her, obviously entranced by her own performance. His beautiful grey eyes were so enticing, she couldn't look away. Greedily, she pulled his hands from her, coveting more than what his fingers could provide.
Suddenly Jolinar intruded, feeding her thoughts of exactly what his hands were capable of, if only she would let him. Sam slammed the memories away, wanting desperately to create her own, and pulled him up until his face was level with her own. Drawing him into a passionate kiss, she wriggled her way off the tub and began to target his clothes.
In her frenzy to undress him, she was grateful he helped her remove his clothing. She might have ripped them before wasting precious time figuring out the alien fastenings. Worn, course fabric brushed through her fingers as she hungrily divested him of his tunic.
"Wow," she said, spilling her initial thought.
"I am pleased you approve."
"I definitely approve."
"Then show me."
She feasted, bathing him in primal fashion. Kissed him. Tongued him. Ran her hands up and down his sleek, slender chest and over his back. Teased him with feather light touches and grazed a nipple between tongue and teeth. Sucked hard, marking him. Claiming his body for her alone.
His leggings were held in place by a thin belt worn inches below his waist. She traced the top edges of the rough material, lightly tickling and for every writhe, she awarded him a moist sweep from her mouth. Sam cupped him and squeezed gently, resenting the barrier between them. She tugged at his belt, loosening it until the fabric could be peeled away, exposing the succulent flesh beneath. He kicked his shoes free and finally, he stood naked in front of her.
Equal and opposite and proudly erect.
Her eyes devoured his body, delighting in his masculine display. Flawless. She seized the opportunity, and pulled him close. Strong arms engulfed her, and she found his grey eyes pleading. His arousal strained between them, thick and hard within her grasp. His mouth ravenously claimed hers, then broke away as he led one of her hands to his mouth, sucking suggestively.
Not truly needing the hint, she plucked her fingers from his lips. Leaving a wet trail down his chest, she knelt before him and tongued away the bead of moisture from his tip. She looked up at the unabashed joy on his face. Eyes closed. Hair tousled. Sweat building...
Enraptured by his reaction, Sam sheathed him. Swirled her tongue around him and tasted his sweet salt. Her hands spanned around his hips, reaching to grasp his tight bottom. His skin was so smooth, so firm, she was unable to resist and kneaded until he swayed a bit, further into her mouth.
He groaned, and apparently well understanding his limits, hauled her up. She led him over to the side of the pool and patted the smooth surface. Martouf picked her up and lowered her back into the tub, the water still warm and inviting. Sam breathed deeply, enjoying the lingering fragrance and offered a steadying hand as Martouf climbed in after her.
Soft blue light reflected off the water as she backed him up against the side of the pool. She slid over him and curled into his lap, enjoying the intimacy the tub afforded. His hands ushered her hips until she straddled him, his face so close she could feel his ragged breath. He made no move to kiss her, just stared into her eyes, waiting for her. His smile was captivating, and Sam decided she had never seen a more beautiful sight than Martouf at that moment.
Patient lust.
Taking a fraction of a second to forever remember, she resigned what little control remained. She grabbed hold and slowly mounted him. He grinned at her. She gasped and fought the buoyancy, aching to be filled by him. Her legs tightened around him; her thighs pulled him ever deeper and he answered, thrusting in her chosen tempo. Water sloshed out of the tub, drenching the stone floor beneath.
She cried out, arching in wild response, and lost herself in consummate heat.
Boldly, he broke away. Lifted her up quickly and turned her around. He melded into her back and drove into her from behind. The intensity shocked her. Excited her. She groaned, his arm possessively encircling her waist, but the other... the other was busy at her sensitive nub, tempting her into joining his imminent release. Her body swayed, then feeling his surrender, she instinctively exploded in sweet, simultaneous wonder.
Sam knew nothing until feathery kisses blanketed the back of her neck. Martouf relaxed his grip, caressing her shoulders lightly. She felt him soften and slide from her, their shared juices spilling shamelessly into the water. She twisted to face him and was met with awaiting arms and eyes.
"Martouf," a deep voice intruded. Sam turned to see Korra standing near the entrance of the chamber, unsuccessfully hiding a smile. "Your presence is requested in the council chambers. The one you hold is also required."
"Thank you, old friend." Her new lover responded, seemingly unaffected by Korra's presence. She, herself had ducked behind him, slightly embarrassed.
"My respects, to both of you." His head bowed briefly in rampant approval. "And Martouf, Anise would like you to know, you owe her much more than just a favor for distracting O'Neill. I would watch your back."
As Korra left them alone, Sam scooted back to face Martouf. "How long was Korra waiting at the door?"
"Just after we entered the water."
Incredulous, she asked. "You didn't think to mention this?"
"I did not mind that a friend witnessed my love for you, Samantha." He held firm, and revealed a charming smile.
She wavered. He loved her? Not yet ready for such a revelation, she quickly changed the topic. "Who's Anise?"
"Someone you might remember. I will introduce you, should I live that long." He smiled, and she enjoyed his mild humor.
"I'll make sure you live that long,"she promised. He pulled her into his arms, his lips utterly intoxicating on her neck. Hesitantly she remembered the council meeting. "We should go, they're waiting for us."
"Of course," he replied, helping her out of the tub once again. "Samantha?"
"Yeah?"
"Will you sleep in my quarters tonight?" he asked, as she helped him dry off.
Her mind filled with possibilities. "It depends how private they are."
"It would be just you, me and Lantesh..."
Now, that thought, she found rather intriguing.