Guttural moans and grunts rasp inside my ear. Each low note emphasized with a sharp deep thrust of his hips against mine. Every sound and each stroke turns me hotter, burning my body with a tempestuous excitement that was spiraling out of control. I couldn't wait for it. I wanted to lose control. I wanted so bad to spin out of my body with numb racking pleasure that I become impatient.

I bite his shoulder, my teeth sink into his flesh with no thought as to what I'm doing or how animalistic my actions are. I draw blood; the cooper tangy taste ignites my taste buds with a deep primal need that has never stroked my senses before. They're powerful and controlling, dominating my every thought and action. I can think of nothing else but this frenzied thirst that is in every pore of me, every inch of my soul…driving me to do the unthinkable. It's a feeling as old as time, a feeling that I've never known before except here – in my dreams…in the arms of a man who I do not know.

He gyrates against me, protesting my demanding actions by banging me harder. His grunts are louder, harsher, unhindered roars of an excitement that has matured with blinding strength, becoming dangerously alive. It's raw…sizzling with as much need as I feel in every tingle of my skin.

He slaps my thigh with no mercy. I jump, my pulse quickens and my blood turns to molten fire as it pumps through my veins. His heavy smack ignites my arousal to a fevered pitch and I growl at him. But my teeth do not relent and my mouth still sucks on his flesh as I continue to feast on his essence.

His shoulders become tenser and though I cannot see his face, I sense its cruel beauty staring at me with a profound passion that has him questioning everything that he's feeling. Those questions alter his mood. His smooth fluid strokes suddenly change to powerful impacts of a pissed off male. His palm lands a heavy blow on my thigh once more. Its stinging slap is sharp…painful and angry…punishing me.

But I don't care.

On a scream of luscious agony my mouth releases his flesh. He grunts again, this time in approval, but his thrusts do not change. They are vigorous, demanding, taking…branding me.

And I love it.

I don't want it to stop. I want this and I want it from him.

God, he feels so good, his body moving so thoroughly, so resplendently inside of mine. It's perfect. He roughly talks to me, telling me how he's going to take me until I scream his name, how he won't stop until my body comes for him so hard that there's nothing left to give him.

Hearing those impassioned words strikes a chord in me and for the first time in all of my time spent with my dream lover I finally see, I finally feel the truth of my need. It had remained hidden until now, silently lurking beneath my lustful desires and needs, but it grows stronger with every velvet stroke of his hard shaft. And I know right then as he once more pivots against me, striking my womb, that it's heavy fervent has been building since the first night he came to me in a haze of fog.

Accepting it seems easy now…inescapable, and without fear or anxiety it becomes truth to me. It becomes the air that I need to breath, the steady ground my feet need to walk on. It becomes my sole purpose for everything.


I want him to feel every thing that I am feeling. I want him to experience the same pain and joy that I feel when he touches me. I want him to suffer the same breathlessness that I endure when his eyes touch me, or to feel the uncontrollable beating of his heart in his chest just from hearing his name off my lips. I need to know that when he takes my body that he's taking more then just flesh and muscle. That he's taking my heart and my soul, treasuring it and honoring all that I'm giving him. To truly know that what we share is not just a frolicsome act of lust, but a powerful expression of deeper feelings and emotions.

I need him…to love me.

I see that now, as his hands cradle my hips and he drives forward once again. It's a binding affection that burns so deep and bright that it makes me feel and think of nothing but him, of giving myself to him wholeheartedly. And I need all of that in return.

I need…balance.

I want him to love me. I want him to need me as much as I need him.

I want it all.

That ravenous wanting erupts something dark and hungry inside of me, a tenacity to not stand idly by and watch him take everything away from me…to deny what's in his soul, in his blood…me.

Not anymore.

Expertly he continues to drive himself deeper inside of me and still giving me the most intense sexual pleasure. He's so meticulous, so focused and lost in his rapid movements of blinding thrusts and perfectly measured glides that he doesn't know what's coming. He does not know the full power of a woman that knows what she wants. A woman that is not afraid to take it. But I'm going to show him.

On a cry of resolution, strength enters my deadening body and I flip our positions shocking him. His back slams against the cold stone; a cry of pain escapes his mouth as I quickly take him back inside of me. As my mouth greedily mauls his, my lips and tongue tell him everything I want.

I ride him hard and fast…branding him as he branded me. Soaking him for everything he has. Taking him deep inside of me…giving him everything I feel for him and never letting go. Mercilessly I squeeze the width of him and I'm rewarded with another scream of hot angry rumbles and another hard smack to my ass. That strong big hand print embeds itself in my skin, I can feel my flesh turning red, and I laugh with pure contentment and brutal honesty of just how much I like it.

But my twisted humor only seems to enrage him again and he quickly turns the tables on me, throwing me around and on to the floor. He grabs my hips, pulls all the way out and then viciously slams back inside. In a voice hidden in shadows though still comprehensible, he rasps into my ear, fierce and coarse…savagely.

"You want to play rough? I'll give you rough. I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week!"

My smile fades, tears come to my eyes, and the only sound that is now coming out of my mouth are shouts of blissful distress as I feel him spreading my insides, going deeper than he's ever gone before.

With his fist in my hair he yanks my head up as his lips slam against my own, taking...plundering…with no remorse, without even conscious thought. He's simply acting on the raging emotions that I brought out in him.

I smile once again because I know that he is feeling the same thing I'm feeling. He just doesn't know it yet and even if he did he can't accept it for what it is. That is what creates the anger. That's what drives his brutal taking of my body.

I don't care though, I love this.

I love him.

Suddenly the fog lifts, what once was cloudy is now as clear as day. I look up and into a wild sea of dark chocolate eyes that stare back with unrelenting ownership. They're on a face that is at last visible, and the name that spills from his lips is a name that I've known, a name that has never been veiled…


The haunting voice and the beautiful possessing mouth it rolled out of snapped her awake.

She sat up in bed gripping the sheets, her heart racing a mile a minute, she felt like her eyes were going to pop right out of her head. She stared at the wall, the dream now as vibrant as the beautiful painting that hung on the wall before her.

"Oh – my – God!"

Her mouth dropped open, her gaze swung to the window and to the house across the street. As if in slow motion her hand rose and covered her mouth in dawning unwanted surprise.

It's Ronon! My mystery dream lover is Ronon!

She took a deep breath, her body still tight with lust and yearning but this time it was her mind that demanded her attention, not her unsated body.

How could I have been so stupid?

Unconsciously or rather deliberately, she slapped herself in the head. It was all there for her to see and it always had been she just never really looked.

She did now and without any effort at all. The truth cold-cocked her right in the head and couldn't be ignored anymore. All those similarities that she had felt before made perfect sense now. Every kiss, touch and sparring lesson that she received from him, hell every time he sheathed himself inside of her, had felt like she had known that intense pleasure before and from him. Her body knew him but she hadn't wanted to see it. She didn't want to admit that she had fallen in love with him already.

Damn it!

She thought she had to fight it but it was too late for her. She had already fallen.

Shit! When exactly did that happen?

Her face crinkled as she thought back over the years, searching for a sign of when that love had blossomed from friend to something more, but she couldn't pin point it. It wasn't like they met and BANG she fell in love. It had grown – fiercely yet slowly at the same time, like…


Love had been a sneaky adversary, cunningly sucking her into its world of ecstasy and fulfillment and inevitably…pain and loss. She had unwittingly stepped right into it with both feet only to be drawn deeper into its gritty grip of blackness and now she was stuck. Heart, body and soul.

A part of her must have known though; you know that part deep inside of you that defends your heart from getting hurt even when you don't realize it. It makes you do things to protect yourself that you don't even know you're doing or why you're even doing it. For her, it made her blind to what was in her very heart. All this time, she had been blissfully living in denial and she hadn't even known it.

The ironic thing was that her love would not let her deny it. It needed to be expressed and it found a way around her natural defenses by coming to her in the form of the dreams. Tormenting her for months at a time, little by little forcing her to see what she felt. She suspected that their night together was the catalyst. Finally having what her heart and body always wanted catapulted her true feelings into explicit clarity.

A short burst of laughter let loose from her lips, she couldn't help it. How disgustingly Freudian was that?

I could be in a psychology book for God's sake! I'm the standard example of a woman in denial.

Well she couldn't deny it any longer the only question was what she was going to do about it. Did she continue to fight what she felt? Or did she suck up her pride and take a chance on him.

Well that made up her mind. Her body rose from the bed easier then she thought it would. But she guessed it was because learning all of this changed nothing and in fact only strengthened her resolve. She was better off keeping him at a distance.

Yeah right, girl you can't even keep him out of your pants!

It was true; she had no self control when it came to him. Last night proved that. One touch from him had completely erased any thoughts of saying no.

Disheartened and sighing deeply she dressed for work. Maybe knowing the truth was the stronghold she needed. Maybe, just maybe, she could stand her ground and stay away from the man with whom she was in love.

Author's Note: I usually don't do this or rather stay away from writing SG fic's but after Friday's episode I just couldn't it was a blasphemy what they did to Jen/Ronon ! So. I hope you enjoy and yes it's tis complete..