Written for One Sweet Love's Winter Exchange
Prompt: The two share a shower together. What happens?
Warning: Definitely M rated! (You'd expect less with a prompt request like that? :P Seriously!) So be warned. There's nothing here resembling any kind of plot other than a steamy shower sex scene. :) Enjoy!
It wasn't fair.
There was definitely a difference between being tired… and being tired while sexually frustrated.
After almost 72 hours of non-stop working thanks to a stomach flu that took out half her staff, all Jen really wanted to do, was sleep.
But sleep was turning out to be quite an elusive jerk.
She'd tried. She'd even managed to make it a solid 2 hours before her internal-alarm kicked in and she woke up ready to continue on with her shift.
Only Marie's bordering-on-bitchy insistence that she take at least 6 hours off or the nurse would file a complaint with Mr. Woolsey, sent Jen out of the empty infirmary bed she'd been napping in and back to her quarters. She'd tumbled into bed, clothes and all, but couldn't do more than stare at the ceiling with a frustrated ache humming through her lower body. So she'd given up after forty-five minutes and left her quarters for his, hoping maybe the frustration would give way beneath exhaustion in the silence and comfort of his room, not hers.
She didn't realize the error of her sleep-addled idea until she'd spent another thirty minutes tossing and turning on his pillow… under his blanket… in his quarters… with his stuff and his presence and traces of his musky scent…
Now she was even more frustrated, more agitated, and more in need of relief than she would have been if she'd just ignored Marie and slept in the infirmary.
There was only one thing left to try.
A hot shower.
Shifting her position so she could lean her forehead against the cool tile wall, Jen let her arms drop limply to her sides. With the heated spray slamming into her back and shoulders, she sighed and closed her eyes.
Two more days until he returned.
Two days. Forty-eight hours.
Forty eight hours before she could finally get rid of the half-crazed state he'd left her nether-regions in when he'd rushed off with Sheppard and the others five days ago.
Rushed off without finishing.
Sheppard had been banging at the door, complaining about Ronon being off-radio again, muttering about locked doors, and threatening to call McKay to open the aforementioned locked door if Ronon didn't get his ass out of bed pronto.
Ronon had no choice but to dress quickly, return apologetically with a kiss that curled her toes, and disappear on a week-long mission.
He'd left her completely naked in his bed, stuck half-way between wanting to kill Sheppard, and a mind-blowing orgasm.
A soft moan escaped her lips as her hand slid down between her legs. She was wet from the water and slick from the frustration. The memories of what he'd been doing to her when they'd been so rudely interrupted sent a tremor through her lower abdomen and she exhaled with a long, low groan. This was so not something she did… playing with herself in the shower… but embarrassment aside, she couldn't stop now. Fingers were absolutely not a viable substitute, and the angle was awkward, but if she didn't do something soon, she was going to die from the pressure build-up alone.
With another moan she flipped herself around and leaned back against the wall of the shower, letting the hot water splash down over the front of her body. Sliding her feet wider, she dropped her head back and closed her eyes, rubbing the tips of her fingers across the overly sensitive flesh between her legs. Her free hand brushed futilely at the slopping wet hair that fell across her face before dropping to join her other hand between her legs. She hunched her shoulders, and with a frustrated moan, tried to get more than the top inch and a half of her fingertips inside herself.
An unnatural sound hissed to her right and she opened her eyes, blinking against the bouncing spray of the water. Her hands twitched once… twice… before freezing in place against the scattered pounding of her heart.
And very… very… aroused.
Her eyes dropped to his swollen member, which was standing straight up, hot and heavy. Her fingers ached to touch pull, hold, squeeze… She exhaled, slowly sliding her gaze back up across his flat, strong, bare, smooth, chest and shoulders, biceps, neck, throat, tattoo, chin, mouth, oh lord she was going insane.
He stared at her, his eyes so dark they were almost black.
Without embarrassment, and without hesitation, she let her arms drop away and straightened up from the wall. She took one step and slammed into him, her hands immediately moving up to lock around his neck.
As he kissed her beneath the hot spray of water, the feel of her wet, warm skin, took every last piece of coherent thought Ronon had been trying to hold on to, and washed them right out of his mind and down the drain.
Initially he'd been a little surprised to find traces of her in his quarters, the disarray of his bedding causing him a minute amount of concern. She often slept in his room while he was off world… but didn't usually leave things in such a state. The pillow was half on the floor, blankets hung discarded and twisted off the end of the bed, and her clothes were scattered in fits and piles in a long trail leading towards the bathroom.
He'd heard the shower running… could smell the moisture in the air as the steam drifted out through the still-open doorway. It wasn't difficult to figure out exactly where she was and what she was doing.
Or so he thought.
It had been the soft moan that had caught him first, sending a tremor of blood and need right to his groin. His body recognized the sound before his mind registered just what it was he was seeing through the misted glass of the shower doors. He'd become hard enough to kill before he'd managed to figure out how to extract himself from the restrictive material he called clothing. The sight that burned his mind as he opened the shower door would have driven a lesser man to his knees on the spot.
Ronon was very, very glad that he was not a lesser man.
It took every bit of willpower, strength, and determination not to come on the spot at the site of a very wet, very naked Jennifer, in his shower, pleasuring herself with her own hands.
He'd had to lock his knees the minute he stepped into the tiled enclosure because she'd opened her eyes… and the look she drilled into him nearly sent him to the floor.
Then she'd moved… no surprise… no reaction… no flush of embarrassment… nothing but an I-want look on her face as she rammed into him, rubbing her slick wet skin up his front like an angry feline and kissed him like there were to be no tomorrow.
"You're early." She exhaled, releasing his mouth to leave a trail of hot, wet, kisses down the side of his neck and across his collarbone.
"I can go…" He groaned when she nipped his shoulder.
"Don't… you… dare." She answered against his chest, her voice low and throaty.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and practically climbed up him. He moved quickly, gripping her wet, firm bottom with his hands. He spun and pressed her against the wall, bracing his legs wide to hold her in place. She squirmed against him, ankles locked in the small of his back, her legs and hips tensing and lifting as she fought to impale herself on him. Not wanting to lose his mind quite yet, he angled his hips away, earning him a very loud, very frustrated groan of displeasure.
"Ronon…" She growled.
"Easy…" He warned.
"No." She frowned, squirming, but he held her firm. "I don't… want… easy…"
He inhaled sharply as each movement brushed her pebble hard nipples across his chest. He bumped his forehead against the hard tile wall as she lowered her head and licked the side of his neck.
"Do you normally…" He groaned and lost his thought when her fingers dug into his shoulders and she nibbled his ear.
"Masturbate in other people's showers?" She finished breathlessly.
He nodded, unable to get his voice to do more than croak. There was no way he was ever… ever… going to be able to shower in his quarters again without thinking about the image that was now permanently burned in his mind. Jennifer, with her head back, eyes closed, body wet, the spray of water cascading down her creamy skin, fingers buried inside her while she moaned.
Gods he was done for.
"Depends." She squirmed again, taking advantage of his inability to think or reason. Heat seared the tip of his cock as she ground herself against him.
"Depends?" He grunted, the single word the only thing he could manage as he tried to lift her off him. Having her pleasure herself in his shower depended on what?
She hissed and opened her eyes, glaring up at him with a delicious mix of want, need, and frustration. He watched with utter fascination as his Jennifer… sweet… smart… beautiful Jennifer, narrowed her eyes and gave him a smile that was anything but innocent.
It was absolutely devious.
She dropped her head back, giving him the full force of her unblinking stare.
"It depends…" She answered, her eyes never leaving his as she inhaled slowly. "Depends…" she raised herself a little higher and angled her hips. "On whether or not I'm going to let him fuck me…"
The word fuck sounded so wrong coming from her lips, and so spectacularly hot. The curse accompanied her downward motion as she impaled herself fully on him. Searing wet heat and extreme pressure engulfed him and he swore.
"God yes…" She threw her head back, her eyes rolling closed as she bit her lower lip.
"Jennifer…" Ronon warned, pressing her tightly against the wall in a vain attempt to keep her from moving.
"You have someplace you'd rather be?" She rolled her head side to side in tandem with the rocking motion of her hips.
"No…" He managed to exhale.
When she opened her eyes, they were so deliciously dark with desire he could barely breathe.
The words she exhaled would be forever seared in his brain.
"Good. Because I…" Pulling with her legs and arms, she lifted herself slowly off him. "Plan on having…" She slid down with agonizing slowness. "More than one…" Up again. "Mind-blowing…" Down slowly with a hiss. "Body draining…" Up… a muttered curse as her eyes rolled back. "Explosion…" Down… faster… with less care and concern. "With…" She slid up again, causing him to lock his knees for fear of dropping her. He fought against the heat and pressure as her muscles began to spasm around him. "Or…" Down. "Without…" Up. "You…"
She finished with a cry that drove his willpower into an alternate reality. Her body convulsed and squeezed, tremors bucking her hips as she slammed forward then back, her shoulders banging against the tile wall. With all the slick, wet heat contracting so tightly around him he could feel himself losing. And losing fast. With a growl of near-release he pulled out of her, dropped her onto her feet and spun her roughly around to face the wall. She gasped as he hooked his right hand under her right knee and lifted her leg, spreading her wide.
"My turn." He growled across the back of her neck. A quick bend then he straightened, driving himself into her with a deep cry of satisfaction.
With a guttural growl that both shocked and pleased him, she answered his plunge with a buck of her own, slamming her gorgeous, round bottom back against his groin. He pulled out, repeating the motion, each thrust met with an answering, agonized cry of pleasure as she impaled herself further onto him.
Forward and back, her body arched in time with his, her motion becoming more frantic, more desperate with each passing second. She reached behind her to sink her nails into his hip, pleading with him for more. He nipped the soft, smooth skin at the base of her neck while reaching around her to tightly knead her breast, rolling a rock hard nipple between his fingers. Her left leg buckled and he grabbed her, sliding his left hand between her legs to both torment and support her. She cried out, cursing, demanding, pleading, writhing against him. He could feel her cresting, clamping so incredibly tightly down around him as he slid in and out through the wetness. With a gasping shudder her head slammed back into his shoulder and she straightened her spine, screaming as she rode the second orgasm.
Something raw and primal coursed through his blood to hear his name being screamed from her lips, and he could hold back no more. He slammed forward and up - once… twice… three times - hard and deep. He lost himself inside her, his face buried against the side of her neck, his body stiffening then stilling as her slowing tremors milked him dry.
With her body sagging limply against his, he lowered them both, wedging himself sideways across the floor of the shower. She lay across him, her back to his front, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. Hot water dropped down around them, forcing him to close his eyes against the spray. He hugged her tightly, his arms keeping her firmly seated in his lap.
"So…" She cleared her throat, after a few moments of stunned silence. "Welcome back."
He laughed and shook his head. "Do I get that kind of greeting… every time?"
"Oh… I hope so." She exhaled, rolling her head to the side, and burying her face against his neck. When she didn't move again, he eventually looked down, low laughter rumbling through his chest.
"You can't sleep in the shower."
"Watch me." She mumbled.
He slid her off him and reached up to shut off the water, laughing to see the disgruntled glare she was giving him.
"What?! I was comfortable." She pouted and stood up.
"You'll be more comfortable in bed." He answered, stepping out of the shower and grabbing his towel off the back of the door.
"Mmm… bed." She smiled when he dropped his towel over her head and rubbed her hair and shoulders. He draped the towel around her and lifted her up, sitting her down on the edge of the bathroom counter. Digging into the drawer he pulled out one of her combs and gently pulled it through her tangled hair. She sighed and leaned forward against him, closing her eyes and burying her forehead against his chest. Using the reflection in the mirror he quickly twisted the long, damp, tresses into a single, long, braid, and secured the ends with a metal ring.
Satisfied, he tossed the towel onto the floor, scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He settled them both beneath the blankets, tucking her tightly against him. She splayed her hand over his chest, her palm directly over his heart. He covered her hand with his and sighed contentedly into the darkness.
"Sleep." He ordered softly.
"Yes please." She mumbled through a yawn. After a few moments she whispered his name.
"Hmm?" He answered.
"I'm glad… you're home. Safe. Sorry. Didn't say it sooner. But I am."
"Hush, little one." He whispered. "Go to sleep."
When her breathing finally slowed and steadied, he picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips, then returned her palm to its place over his heart.
He shook his head and let his eyes drift shut, a parting thought flittering through his mind moments before sleep finally claimed him.
He would never be able to use his shower – unaffected - again.
And knowing that made him wonder just what he'd have to do to return the favor.
After all, it was only fair.