DISCLAIMER: I only borrowed them for a while. MGM and whoever can
have them back whenever they want.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
DEDICATED: to my muse and my love.
Interlude 20: Storm
By Celievamp
I don't get out much… out 'here' I mean, the other side of the Gate. We're currently high on a mountain ridge that looks a lot like the Pyrenees, bivouacked in a cave, waiting out the storm. Thunder rolls again and again, each clap sounding louder than the last, overlapping one over the other until the air vibrates with the released energy. Sam is watching me watch the storm. The rest of SG1 and SG15 are in the valley below, at the ruined temple that Daniel Jackson found so fascinating. He decided that it was dedicated to Aesclepius, god of healing, which explains my presence on this little field trip. Another flash of lightening strobes across the sky, and I gasp, shuddering, feeling the charged atmosphere play across my skin. It felt almost as good as being touched by a certain Air Force Major who I could sense was now standing only a few inches behind me.
"Janet?"
"I'm okay," I whisper, reaching behind me to take her hand. Static sparks between us, making her jump. "Isn't it wonderful?"
"Pretty spectacular," she agrees softly, coming to stand directly behind me, her breasts pressing into my back, her arms resting lightly around my waist. I rested my hands on her forearms, leant back into her body. The safest place in the universe and it was mine alone. Lightening flashed across the sky again and I felt my skin prickle.
"It's not just the view," I said. "Can't you feel it?"
Her lips ghosted over my skin. "I feel you," she said. "It feels as if you're part of this too, part of the storm. I always knew… always felt that there was something elemental about you, I suppose this is proof… I want you, Janet."
"I want you too," I whispered, turning in her arms. My hands reached up to start unbuttoning her shirt. We had a rule: never on base, never on a mission but this… this time was a gift to us from the elements. We both felt that. We were alone up here: the rest of the team were camped near the ruins, Colonel O'Neill had advised us to stay up here until morning or the storm had passed, whichever came first. We didn't have to check in again until daylight and it was unlikely the Colonel would check on us. He knew we had sufficient supplies with us for another day at least and that we had found shelter from the elements.
I pulled off her shirt, leaving her only in her sports bra and muscle shirt. Her fair skin almost glowed in the ghostlight. Another roll of thunder growled through me and I clung to her, feeling the subsonics, my nipples tightening, my womb clenching. I nuzzled at her breasts through the heavy cotton. "I want you Sam, my Sammie, my beautiful Samantha, my love." I replaced my mouth with my hands so that I could look up at her face. Her head was thrown back slightly, her lips parted, her eyes closed. Lightening flashed and we both shuddered. We felt the same thing. I let my hands drift down to her waist, inching under her t-shirt, her flesh cool and firm under my fingers. She moans softly, an "I want" frown appearing between her brows. Her eyes are still closed but I want them open, I want her to watch me. "Open your eyes, Sam," I instruct her softly. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled down at me.
"Better," I pulled her t-shirt up as she lifted her arms to assist in the process and then she reached round to undo her bra, letting it drop from her body. The cool air puckered her nipples and she hissed as my touch assisted in the process cupping her heavy breasts in my hands, lowering my face to kiss down her cleavage. She giggled, her fingers combing through my hair. I take one plump nipple into my mouth, run my tongue over its pebbled surface, hear her giggle turn into a soft moan of absolute need that goes straight to my core. My free hand is unbuttoning her fly, pulling her belt loose. I push her trousers down over her slim hips, her delectable ass so that I can cup her, feeling her warmth, the slick moisture that already lubricated her. Thunder crashed again and she pushed herself against my fingers, almost whimpering.
Heat flashed through me in tempo with the lightning. She is so beautiful. I wanted to take her right here, right now in front of the glory of the storm but the cave wall at her back was very rough and I did not want to damage that beautiful creamy skin. And a few feet away our bedrolls were already set up, our sleeping bags zipped together. She did not resist as I steered her towards our nest.
As I followed her down onto the sleeping bags another crescendo of thunder echoed through the cave. My bones hummed with it, my blood thrilled but whether that was the storm or her presence I do not know, I do not care. We kissed, gentle at first then deepening, our tongues entwining. Her hands were entangled in my hair, her fingers bracing my skull. I straddled her hips, my hands moulding her breasts, running gently over the strong cage of her breastbone and ribs, the ribbon of muscles under the velvet skin. Such a dichotomy of strength and softness but then such contrasts define everything about my love. I do not allow her time to get used to anything that I am doing to her, I need to see her in the moment, over the edge wild and free, uncontrolled. Only I get to see her like that. Only me.
I mouthed her breasts again, my fingers teasing at her clit, sliding down through the soft curls to the heat of her centre. She moves with me, pushing against my fingers, breathing hard through her open mouth. I reach to kiss her, plundering her mouth with my tongue, my fingers mimicking my actions further down. Hot and wet, she moans as I leave her mouth and catlick and kiss my way down her body again, teasing and tormenting her, the heel of my hand remorselessly grinding against her clit, as my fingers trace over the senstitive swollen flesh , her hips bucking against me my only warning before she explodes under me, screaming my name, her heels and the back of her head seeming to be the only bits of her connected to the ground. Lightening dazzles, afterimages of her sweatsheened body dancing in my head as I cup her, soothe her until she stills again.
I pulled back, stared down at her. Sam was breathing hard, her dark adapted eyes huge against the pallor of her skin. "Janet," her voice caressed me. I ran my fingers over her cheek, brushing her lips as she gently nipped my skin. "Janet," she whispered again, her breath searing my fingertips. "That was… oh, god… " she breaths deeply, smiles up at me, that sweet sexy look that says everything that needs to be said. "Janet, love, you're wearing too much."
I laughed, surrendered myself to her busy hands. Within moments I was wearing as little as she was. Her lips plundered my skin finding all my sweet spots, completing the work of the storm. My skin was tingling all over. I have never been so alive.
We are wrapped around each other so thoroughly that I can hear a heart beat and not know whose it is. My fingers trace across the faint spatter of freckles across the top of her breasts and across her shoulders. Her moist lips close around my left nipple, she teases the sensitive nub with her tongue, her teeth until I can take no more. I move her hand down to my abdomen, push it further, feel her smile against my skin as her fingertips brush lightly over my core. A bright light flashes in my skull at her touch that has nothing to do with the storm raging outside.
I am lost. And I never want to be found again. The electricity that surges through me at the sweet familiarity of her touch makes the storm raging outside pale into significance. My tongue flickers over her skin as I push her back down onto the sleeping bags tasting the salt of her skin, the particular flavour of my love. Her fingers braille across my skin, from the curve of my ass to the top of my spine and then down again. I am hers, it is written in my blood my bones. No other will ever claim ownership of me. Heat radiates from us as she turns me, and now she curves over me, her palms pressed to mine, my hands trapped at either side of my head as she teases me, rubbing her sweatslick body against mine, whispering my name, her intentions, taking all deliberate care not to miss out one single inch of skin. I scissor my legs around her waist, crossing my ankles over her butt, and in an easy show of strength she pulls me up with her until I am sitting on her thighs as she kneels. Lightening sheens our skin again, and natural phenomena or illusion our bodies seem surrounded by an aura of light, just for a moment. I cling to her, feeling my womb hitch my breasts ache and burn with want for her.
"Touch me, Sam," I whisper. "Now, before I go insane."
She murmurs wordless reassurance to me as she lays me down again, parting my thighs and lowering her head towards my centre. She catlicks me, her tongue delicately tracing my flesh, and the intensity of that simple touch makes me scream out her name, my back arching. She plays me, plays with me, drawing me remorselessly closer and closer only to slow, back away, circling around before renewing the attack. I'm sobbing now, happily mindless, existing only in that small area of skin and nerve that is being so exquisitely tortured. Subsonics from the thunder thrill through my bones, echo in my head, the pressure wave building inside as her delicate touch stimulates my nerves, lighting them up. The storm is overhead, lightning answered almost immediately by thunder the air stinks of sex and ozone as her fingernails gently scritch along my inner thighs as she mouths me again.
And as the rain starts to fall, thrumming against the rocks I find my own release, melting into her touch, flowing into her mouth, one with the storm, the sky. I let it hollow me, let the strength of her love fill me, make me anew. She crawls up my body, draws a blanket over us so we don't get chilled as she lies alongside me, spooning me against her. Her fingers smooth across the skin of my arm, my shoulder, my hip, never quite losing contact with my body as if she needs reassurance that I am real, that we are here.
In the curve of her arms, the grumble of the storm now reduced to the deep rumbling purr of a cat I am safe and warm and loved. I feel her lips press softly to my shoulder. "Sleep," she instructs. "Long day tomorrow."
She's right. For a moment I turn my thoughts to the tests I want to run, the samples I want to collect but then her touch starts up again gentling across my hip and I relax into sleep.
The End