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The thunderstorms over Atlantis were ferocious. John could hear the thunder rolling on and on from the sparring gym, where his footsteps kept time to the rise and fall of the roar. He’d have to ask Rodney why the thunder lasted for so long, sometimes a minute or two, on this planet. Actually, scratch that, he’d have to ask Zalenka. John could just imagine the exasperation oozing from Rodney’s pores at having his time wasted with a weather question. Unless maybe if John caught him in post-sex glow. Yeah , he thought, that could work .
A banto, brutally hard and fast as a lightning strike, cracked against his thigh and John snarled in answer, leaping back to renew the distance between him and his sparring partner. Teyla had caught him slipping, distracted, and that viper’s smile rose on her face. John shivered a little, from fear or something else, but couldn’t risk looking away to collect himself. Maybe he got his ass handed to him every time, but sparring with Teyla called up something primal inside of him - and not just the self-defensive fear of getting whac-
-Whack- Another distracted second, another shot, this time to his left-side ribs, and John had had about enough of that . He went on the offensive then, lunging in close to flurry strikes at Teyla’s sides, hips, legs, outstretched arms. Nothing landed - no matter how fast he moved, Teyla moved with him, countering every blow and somehow gaining ground across the room. God, how does she do that?
Suddenly he was back to playing defense without a second thought, Teyla pressing him back steadily and throwing moves as fast as he could parry them. He danced left to avoid a sudden banto flourished at his waist and sailed straight into a right-side strike to his forearm. The banto dropped from his weakened grip and skittered across the floor, leaving him with the one in his off hand and his own dexterity as a defense, which were never enough.
Before John could blink, his back was pressed against the wall, his remaining stick had fucked off to god-knows-where, and Teyla had one banto digging into his right wrist and one across his throat. Her body pressed firmly against his from chest to thighs, and John wasn’t entirely sure if it was the exertion, the weapon on his windpipe, or the raw connection of her touching him, but it was awfully hard to catch his breath. They’d gotten close while sparring like this before, but had it ever been like this? His gut was tense and he knew that, if she stayed where she was for much longer, Teyla would feel him getting hard against her.
The thunder rolled again and John felt it in his bones - a heady roar that filled him up and echoed in his ears, his chest… Still, she didn’t back off of him. There was something in her eyes when they met his, something just as deadly as in the moments before she struck at him, but… different, somehow. John knew that his eyes kept slipping down to her lips, curved in a smirk and oh, so, very soft looking. They were just inches from his; if he could just lean the smallest bit -
The banto on his throat twitched and held him in place, and the tiniest growl slipped away from him. He was in dangerous territory. He knew he was hard enough for her to feel now, he knew she had heard him growl like an animal, and he knew that she could keep him pinned just like this for as long as she wanted. He also knew that he didn’t care if she kept him here, just like this, for the rest of his natural life
“I thought you’d been watching me differently these last few weeks.” The sound of her voice surprised him a little, and he jerked his gaze back to hers. Teyla’s eyes were burning into his and for the life of him, John couldn’t figure out if she wanted him or wanted to beat him up. And of course that turned him on even more.
“Have I been?” he rasped, glad for the excuse against his throat to not sound as steady as he wanted to. The truth was, John had been watching her differently. He’d been like that with everyone, and he knew it. The sex with Rodney hadn’t helped cool him off as much as he’d hoped. In the past, he had been able to sate his lust and move on for a while, but this time it was still burning him up. He’d gone back to Rodney twice more since the first time, but he just kept feeling… well… his erection pressed into Teyla, making him shiver a little, and he found himself utterly unable to defend himself.
A smirk passed over Teyla’s face again. Every inch of her exuded confidence and mastery, especially in this room, and John couldn’t get enough. Despite their near-foot height difference and probably forty pound weight difference, she more than held her own in every way. John could have watched her banto fight - could have watched her muscles work and her body dance and her face flash fierce with victory - for hours.
Longing shot through him like the lightning that flashed outside the window, and it was enough to have John moving his left hand, mercifully free from Teyla’s banto-bonds, up to her side. His fingertips had just grazed the warm skin exposed by her training outfit when-
Just like that, she was gone. John staggered forward a half step, not realizing until he did so that he must have been pushing into her a little. He barely managed to save himself from an embarrassing fall to the ground while he panted, catching his breath, and rubbed at his right wrist. It was a little tender from being pinned to the wall, but nothing serious. Both of his bantos rolled over, clattering lightly against his bare feet.
John could feel Teyla’s eyes on him. His senses were sharp enough to catch her movements, light and energetic as she moved somewhere across the room, even without the acuteness that lust granted them. Everything about her was fluid grace as she moved in the same way that a jaguar paced while waiting for its prey to fight back. Still, it took a glance up to understand the challenge she was laying at his feet.
Her face was painted with humor and steady intensity, but John finally understood what the something else was. Teyla wanted him, and she was letting him see it now. It was in her wide pupils, the tilt of her jaw, the line between her eyes as her brow rose just a hair. Oh, she wanted him, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. And goddamn if John didn’t love a challenge.
In one fluid movement, he snatched up the bantos in each hand and barrelled forward. Teyla tensed just the way that John had expected her to, and he had a split second to be proud of himself for pulling one over on her while he twisted to the side at the last minute and managed to smack a hit into her hip when she parried in the wrong direction.
He kept moving, though, ducking past her at the same time that she spun away from him to regroup. She let out a laugh born of battle joy, and John grinned as the same feeling echoed in him. It didn’t even take a full breath for Teyla to right herself, and John met her in the center of the room at a run to strike and parry with everything he had.
She got a hit in on his calf and he answered with one to her shoulder. She feinted for his stomach and he was just quick enough block a strike that would have rapped his skull. She blocked his shot at her exposed ribs and he regretted it the second she snapped her elbow into his chest.
Knocked off balance, John staggered backwards, barely keeping his feet under him as Teyla pressed her advantage. Her attacks were short and sharp, and he couldn’t keep up. Losing ground again, John managed to protect most of the soft bits, but she jabbed blow after blow into his arms, his hips, his legs. He knew he was close to the wall again, and that he’d fallen too far behind her curve to recover. In a flash of movement, John threw his bantos to the side and grabbed Teyla’s upper arms, using both of their momentum to yank her into him.
His lips met hers as his back hit the wall. Kissing her was everything John thought it would be - hot and forceful and violent and a little like losing a fight. He fought her here, too, biting at her bottom lip and her tongue as she forced his mouth open, but he didn’t mind accepting defeat. Especially when defeat felt like Teyla’s tongue against his and her stomach against his cock. He went to slide his hands from her arms to her sides, and promptly found them pressed against the wall with a banto digging at each wrist.
Embarrassed by the undignified yelp that slipped out of him, John covered ( smoothly, of course ) by breaking their kiss and biting out, “I don’t know what seduction is like on Athos, but on Earth, it doesn’t usually involve this much violence.” Pulling back to talk to her meant being able to see her dark, wild eyes, and John reveled in the fact that he had done that to her, he had fueled that fire.
Teyla was panting now, too, for maybe the first time since they’d started today. Still, she smiled up at him teasingly, as even-keeled as she always was. “On Athos, an interested partner does not usually wait for so long to express their desire.” It wasn’t a reproach, John knew. Just an idle comment. She dropped the bantos digging into his wrists, and the clatter of them hitting the floor seemed very far away when her hands were suddenly running up his sides to press into his chest.
Using his freedom to the fullest, John gripped her hips and pulled them more firmly into his. The friction left him breathless, unable to respond with any more than a shrug that was far more casual than he felt. When Teyla slid her hands up to tug at his neck, he went easily, pressing his lips back to hers.
She was softer this time, but still left no room to question who was in charge of the kiss. Her mouth set the tempo, pushing him quickly, and her hands on the back of his neck, tight in the short hair at the base of his skull dictated his pressure, his movement. Half of him snarled to take control, but the other half was straining painfully in his workout pants to give in and let her own him.
The second half won.
The moment that John lightened his fingers on her hips, Teyla rocked into him. He groaned softly and twitched his hips against her in answer, stopping himself by a hair from directing her motions. Letting himself go soft under her hands and mouth, he took the direction she gave him and melted a little further into the wall. Her hips canted up into him again and the sensation had him dizzy - along with a thought that spiked through him. She’s rewarding me. For letting go . His cock twitched at that, and he couldn’t catch another groan before it flowed into her mouth.
Teyla broke the kiss, then, and John whined pitifully before her lips moved up his jaw to nip at his ear. “I think my Athosian methods of seduction are working just fine, don’t you?” Her voice, her mouth on the sensitive parts of his neck, the heat between their bodies where she was grinding into him gently, it all left John reeling. He wanted more, but didn’t know how to ask for it.
Either she read his mind or they were just on the same page, because she’d gotten a grip on the neck of his shirt and was busy tugging it up over his head. Taking his hands off of her hips was torture, but the second his shirt was off, he set in on the laces on the front of her top. It was a ridiculously complicated process, especially with desire clouding his mind and making him tremble ever so slightly, and Teyla finally took pity on him.
With firm hands, she brushed his away and opened the front of her shirt like it wasn’t Fort Knox. The second she pulled it away from her breasts, John couldn’t help but move his hands up again. This time, Teyla gripped his wrists and pressed them down and back into the wall. Her grip was tight enough to send little ripples of pain up John’s arms, but they went straight down into his cock and he moaned low in his chest. It was rare to be with a partner who could out-power him, but there was a good chance that Teyla could, and that thought sent waves of desire and submission rolling through him.
Teyla’s hips ground into his a little harder as she pinned him tight to the wall. “These stay here, John, until I ask for them elsewhere.” Her grip eased for a second, testing him, and then let go completely to rest at his waist.
John whimpered desperately but couldn’t even think of disobeying. Besides, her idea of rewarding him seemed to be pressing her full breasts against his chest and running hot kisses over his collarbones, his throat, his chest, - oh god - his nipples. It took everything he had not to buck his hips up, moaning for more friction, while her tongue and teeth worked his nipples gentle one second, rough the next. He could swear that Teyla was chuckling at him, but he could barely hear over the heartbeat pounding in his ears.
But she was nothing if not merciful, he knew, and he thanked whatever was listening that the next place her hands settled was at the waist of his sweatpants. She wasted no time now, dragging them and his underwear down low enough that they fell off on their own. He managed to step out of them and kick them aside without too much hassle, again just catching himself before he reached to Teyla to pull her back in.
He shouldn’t have worried. She slid her body back up against his in a dirty roll, the soft leather and cloth of her sparring skirt catching on his naked cock and wringing pleasure from him. John cried out now, losing grip on any control he had left. He couldn’t help it - every nerve was overloaded, with Teyla all around him and not being able to do anything but give in. There was a chance that he’d never been this hard in all of his life; his cock was jerking with every hint of her movement and he knew he was starting to squirm.
Not realizing that his eyes had shut tight, John worked them open when her hips left his again. His vision was hazy and he knew how he must look - pleasure drunk and seconds from begging - but he could see that she’d only pulled away long enough to strip out of her skirt. God, every inch of her was glorious. She was made of toned muscle and bronze skin, and watching her move was even more intoxicating without clothes obstructing the view.
Suddenly, the worst thought crawled to him. “Teyla,” he ground out, “I hate to do literally anything other than what we’re doing, it’s just… I don’t know about you, but I didn’t come here prepared for this.” She narrowed her eyes in a question and he nodded, looking like somewhat of an idiot, at his cock. “No condom.”
She didn’t look like she cared much. “I have been taking your pregnancy prevention medication since Doctor Beckett first explained it to me. It seemed…” she brushed her fingers over his cock casually, almost accidentally, making him jerk, “... useful. I am not worried about sexually-borne illnesses. I would have explained any that I could pass to you before our encounter began.”
How, god, how did she make even this part fun? He shook his head. “No, that’s, right, yes, same. Good then.” That got the point across, at least.
His fingers twitched, itching to touch her, but she slid a hand into his hair and dragged him down hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. Message received, loud and clear, and John let himself be tugged down to sit against the wall, legs straight out in front of him. He expected her to release his hair, then, and drop on top of him, but today had been everything but expected.
Her guiding grip still tight enough to shoot pain-pleasure straight to his cock, she guided his head up just a little and pressed his face between her legs. John almost wrenched his neck in his eagerness to meet her half way, pressing open, sloppy kisses on her wet mound. She was so sweet on his tongue and he was utterly consumed with the need to please her. Running his tongue between her lips, he thrilled a little in how wet he’d gotten her before finding her clit. For the first time, Teyla’s legs trembled a tiny bit and her hand in his hair jerked him in even closer. His hips twitched upward, seeking anything to relieve the pressure on his aching cock, but John still didn’t dare to move his hands from where they lay at his sides.
He could make good with what he had, though. Twisting his tongue against Teyla’s clit dragged out moans that vibrated all the way down through her pussy. It didn’t take him long to find out that sucking on her oh-so-gently led to little stuttered thrusts of her hips, and humming with his tongue pressed flat against her made her whimper quietly above him. John lost himself in every movement of her body, every flutter of the muscles under his tongue, every sexy little noise she made; he would have walked off the edge of one of Atlantis’s balconies if she’d asked him to. He did every dirty thing to her that he could think of, and by the time she was grinding against his face hard enough that he couldn’t breathe, he could feel her starting to clench.
Wrapping his lips around her clit, he sucked hard and nipped as carefully as he could, and that was all it took to have Teyla crying out and cumming on his face. She held his hair firmly and practically rode his face through her orgasm, while something in him screamed triumphantly. John still hadn’t caught a breath, and about the time he started to feel lightheaded, he also started to pray that nothing would touch his cock - he knew that one good moment of friction would be all it took to make him cum. His eyes were fluttering closed when Teyla finally pulled back from his face.
Air and pleasure rushed through him and he almost came anyway. His lungs and his groin burned and the first sound out of him after he got some oxygen was a jagged, broken moan. God, he didn’t even sound human anymore. But then, nothing mattered, because Teyla had let go of his hair - somehow the relief of her easing her grip was just as good as the pain had been - and was slipping down onto her knees to straddle him. Her breasts trailed over his chest, leaving little paths of fire across his skin, and his next moan was barely more than a whisper. Her breath on his face was as flurried and wrecked-out as he felt.
He tilted his face up to look at her, noting how odd it was to have to do that as she hovered above him on her knees. Teyla was beautiful like this - flushed and panting and wild eyed. She started pressing kisses over his face, then, seeming to finally come back to herself. They were slower and more tender than the raging need inside of John, but something just under that, something tight in his chest, uncurled a little to nuzzle against her softly. Her lips were on his forehead and his temples, and he latched onto the pulse still hammering in her throat to the thrum of the thunder outside. She hummed quietly and tilted her head to let him kiss up and down her soft throat, and that display of vulnerability made him crave her in some new, unexpected way.
His fingers flexed again, and this time, Teyla murmured, “Touch me, John.” He shattered, bringing his hands up to rove over as much of her as he could in jerky, desperate movements. She let out the tiniest laugh against the shell of his ear and rubbed her thumbs, slow and steady, from the hinge of each side of his jaw down his throat to his shoulders.
“Slow, now. Like this.” A whisper in his ear that he obeyed instantly, slowing his movements in time with her breath, which she was finally catching, and he knew then that she was still in charge, no matter how soft and sweet she was in his arms. But damn, she was so soft and sweet. The curve of her ribs, her sharp collarbones, the swell of her breasts - everything about her was perfect under his hands.
Teyla’s mouth ended up back on his before long, with one strong hand under his chin to guide his face back up and the other on his chest pushing him back into the wall. Her tongue ran over John’s lips and chin and it took him a long second to realize that she was cleaning her own juices from his face. His cock jerked again and he whined into her mouth.
When she finally sank down far enough that her hot slickness rubbed over his cock, a sob ripped from his chest and finally, no matter how good he wanted to be, he couldn’t take it anymore. He jerked away from her mouth to cry, “Please, Teyla, god, please, please…” John heard himself beg through distant, tunneled senses as Teyla deliberately ground over him once, twice, three more times. His eyes screwed shut and his head tipped back against the wall. He’d lost track of his hands, one thumb running over Teyla’s nipple in jagged circles and the other hand sprawled over her hip, not able to do anything but feel her.
“John.” Teyla’s voice alone didn’t get him, but her hand tight around the base of his cock absolutely did. He snapped back to attention and managed to meet her gaze with whatever shreds of himself that he could collect. Her eyes were dark and intense, and her hand clutched him tightly enough to bring him back from the brink. “John, you are mine, and you will orgasm at my request. Not before.” There was no question at the end, no ‘ do you understand? ’ or ‘ am I clear? ’, because he knew that she didn’t need an answer. That she was certain of his submission. No problem there; he was certain himself. The warmth in his chest at her words, at being called hers, didn’t go unnoticed, but, Jesus, he had bigger fish to fry.
How he obeyed, he didn’t know. It was an act of god that he didn’t cum the minute Teyla lined him up with her hole. His tip was wet with precum and the wetness that she had spread over him with every grind, and he slipped into her like he was born for it. Every muscle in John’s body went taut, desperately holding off an orgasm that he wanted more than anything, while Teyla adjusted to him. In another tender moment, she leaned in to rest her forehead on his, and their panted breaths mingled while the world paused around them.
She was so tight around him, so gloriously hot and wet and perfect. He held as still as he could, ignoring the little twitches in his hips and cock while her muscles fluttered. In a moment, Teyla picked her head up, looking at him with much clearer eyes than he knew he had. John was almost sure that he could hold off now, and he nodded tightly before leaning forward to seek her mouth with his.
Her tongue slipped between his lips at the same moment that she drew up, almost off of his cock, and ground back down. A tense moan worked its way out of his chest and into her mouth, and this time found itself answered by one out of Teyla. She worked her hips against his, up and down, back and forth, and every movement echoing between them. Pulling their lips apart, she arched her back enough to put her breasts at mouth level, and John latched on to her nipple at the same moment that he rubbed a thumb over her clit.
That got her shaking on top of him, her movements becoming stuttered as she worked herself between his mouth, his fingers, and his cock. He sucked on her breasts, dragging his lips and teeth over one nipple, and then the next. One of her hands was in his hair again, tugging and directing him in all the right ways. He had to get her close, had to take her apart like she’d taken him apart. His fingers danced at her clit, rubbing and pressing and pinching as hard as he dared. Her head tipped down then, pulling her chest away from his mouth to press them forehead to forehead again. Every breath that left her mouth came with louder and louder cries, and only then did John realize that he was matching each sound.
It was all so much like this - Teyla’s wild eyes on his, her hand in his hair, his fingers and cock pressing into her for all that he was worth. It was only a second, or maybe ages, before she tightened above him, and his body tightened right along with her.
He felt her hang on the edge for a blinding, beautiful moment before she touched their lips together and whispered, “ now ” into his mouth.
John sobbed something incoherent against her as his orgasm ripped through him like lightning. Above him, against him, all around him, Teyla fell over that edge too. Their bodies pressed together from mouth to hips as they shook apart, taking and giving everything that they had. Pleasure and electricity poured out of him, down every limb and through his tongue and up from where he was buried inside of her.
He had no idea how long it took for them to come down. All he knew was that he was sagged against the wall with his arms around her as she curled into his chest when he could finally remember his own name. Teyla’s whole body was boneless, still but for the frenetic rise and fall of her back with every breath, and the occasional ripple of an aftershock trembling through her. John was pretty sure that he was in the same shape.
Eventually, Teyla pushed herself up enough to slide off of John’s cock and lay down next to him on the floor. A silent hand tugged at him to join her, and he mostly melted down the wall to lay flat. Somewhat to his surprise, he found Teyla’s arm under his head and wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him to curl into her side. She was warm and solid, and that warmth bloomed up in John’s chest again as he wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked his face into her shoulder. Her fingertips strummed a lazy rhythm up and down his spine and neck.
It was a few long, comfortable minutes before John spoke. “That was incredible , Teyla.” His throat was still raw, so it came out like more of a whisper than anything, but he punctuated it with a kiss to the soft curve where her neck met her shoulder.
“I know.” She was definitely smiling, but there was no trace of smugness or arrogance in her voice. Just the confidence of someone who knew exactly what they were doing. “In fact, I think we should do it again sometime.”
The thunder rolled again, then, as John’s heart skipped a little in his chest. “Oh, absolutely.”