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Off to volunteer; next part at ten; should finish it off tonight. Maybe two more parts... thanks to all reading and commenting and encouraging the smut!spam. ::grin::
Previous parts are here
Can't Take the Heat
Part Eight
Hurts. Fuck. If this is what he's been doing with whoever he's been picking up, I bet he doesn't get many coming back for more. And he knows it hurt because he doesn't move until my hand unclenches and goes back to lying flat, fingers spread.
I close my jaw carefully after a breathless, soundless scream and his finger's still there. Trusting son-of-a-bitch. I should chew it bloody but my tongue wraps around it forgivingly and he sighs and I feel him relax.
Then he remembers he hates me, or something, and I get an extra inch or two rammed deep but that doesn't hurt, not really, not now he's in, and I spread wider, get comfortable, finally get that fucking kink out of my spine, and spit out his finger so I can say something.
"Get on with it, Daniel."
"Make me."
"Need my hands to do that."
He runs his thumbnail down my spine, nape of neck to ass, like he's striking a match, and I shudder and arch for him as my skin ignites. I suck at negotiating because when he murmurs, "No, I don't think so," and puts his hands over mine, trapping them, I give in.
He's snuggled up against me, the point of his chin sharp in my shoulder and his mouth wetting the skin on my neck as he sucks it just shy of marking me, like he knows how to do that. I try to think of any bruises he's been wearing recently but it's not like I get chance to stare, and he's always got some on him, new and fading; not like I can tell how he got them.
I've got to stop thinking about Daniel with someone else.
He rocks his hips, fucking me slowly, teasingly, barely pulling out before he eases back in, still tight up against me so I'm carrying his weight.
I'm shivering and so is he, or maybe we're trembling, because the afternoon sun's thick and soft, filling the room, and I'm not cold anywhere now, and neither is he.
He picks up speed, playing with me, still keeping the thrusts short and not giving me what I want. Still all about him. His fingers flex and slide over mine wet with spit and lube, fresh from being inside me.
"Touch me."
"I am."
"Daniel..."
He smiles against my skin and pinches my nipple hard.
Previous parts are here
Can't Take the Heat
Part Eight
Hurts. Fuck. If this is what he's been doing with whoever he's been picking up, I bet he doesn't get many coming back for more. And he knows it hurt because he doesn't move until my hand unclenches and goes back to lying flat, fingers spread.
I close my jaw carefully after a breathless, soundless scream and his finger's still there. Trusting son-of-a-bitch. I should chew it bloody but my tongue wraps around it forgivingly and he sighs and I feel him relax.
Then he remembers he hates me, or something, and I get an extra inch or two rammed deep but that doesn't hurt, not really, not now he's in, and I spread wider, get comfortable, finally get that fucking kink out of my spine, and spit out his finger so I can say something.
"Get on with it, Daniel."
"Make me."
"Need my hands to do that."
He runs his thumbnail down my spine, nape of neck to ass, like he's striking a match, and I shudder and arch for him as my skin ignites. I suck at negotiating because when he murmurs, "No, I don't think so," and puts his hands over mine, trapping them, I give in.
He's snuggled up against me, the point of his chin sharp in my shoulder and his mouth wetting the skin on my neck as he sucks it just shy of marking me, like he knows how to do that. I try to think of any bruises he's been wearing recently but it's not like I get chance to stare, and he's always got some on him, new and fading; not like I can tell how he got them.
I've got to stop thinking about Daniel with someone else.
He rocks his hips, fucking me slowly, teasingly, barely pulling out before he eases back in, still tight up against me so I'm carrying his weight.
I'm shivering and so is he, or maybe we're trembling, because the afternoon sun's thick and soft, filling the room, and I'm not cold anywhere now, and neither is he.
He picks up speed, playing with me, still keeping the thrusts short and not giving me what I want. Still all about him. His fingers flex and slide over mine wet with spit and lube, fresh from being inside me.
"Touch me."
"I am."
"Daniel..."
He smiles against my skin and pinches my nipple hard.
Tags:
- fic,
- jack/daniel,
- sg-1,
- slash