Libido

Sam descended into REM almost immediately, transitioning from post-orgasmic euphoria into a deep, relaxed sleep in mere moments. A contentment she'd not felt in some time lay over her like a thick, warm blanket, the pulse of Jack's heart beneath her head lulling her as surely as any chemical soporific.

Her dream, as in so many she had lately, brought her back to P3R-118. The acrid smell of the other workers, the dim ochre light, focused her attention on the man who stood before her, his body pressed intimately against her, his cock deep inside her, the final tremors of her release, and his, washing through her. He smoothed an errant strand of hair from her face, combing it with his long fingers behind her ear. “I love you, Thera,” he said, “and I want to be with you.”

“I love you too, J-j-jack,” she said, confusion clouding her thoughts.

“What did you say?” he asked, pulling away from her, his face troubled as he looked at her. Sam felt a deep wrenching, a vertiginous see-saw between her perceptions and reality. She felt herself being pulled apart, frayed, like a rope unraveling, until only the thinnest strand remained. And then it broke... and she woke... to find herself in Daniel's bed, entangled in the arms of her CO.

Sam was breathing hard. The residual effects from the dream were strong, frightening. She tried desperately to get enough air, but she felt as if she were suffocating. She sat up suddenly, needing to put her hands over her mouth and nose, making a little tent, largely closed, and breathing into it to increase her CO2 intake, trying to prevent herself from hyperventilating.

As soon as she woke with a start, Jack was awake too. When she began breathing heavily, sitting abruptly, he pulled his arm from her shoulder to give her freedom of movement. Something awakened her, and he was certain it was a bad dream.

Jack was a master at bad dreams. His days in Black Ops gave him any number of technicolor options for nightmares. In more recent times, his fears for his team, of losing them, allowing them to be injured or captured, his feelings of deep responsibility for the safety of the planet, these emotions stirred the cauldron of his nighttime fantasies far more than Iran, Afghanistan, or any number of Special Forces locations where he'd been tortured, or nearly been killed, or had to kill someone else. Rarely were his dreams sweet, so when Sam awoke he knew exactly what was happening.

“Carter?” He winced at himself. “Sam?” He sat up with her. “What's wrong?”

She was determined not to cry again. She set her teeth and willed her breathing to steady... and sure enough it did. I'm not Jacob Carter's daughter for nothing, she thought. “It's nothing, s-Jack.”

In the past, recent past, that would have been enough for him. Tonight, no. “It's not nothing, Sam,” he said softly, putting his arm around her, noticing she had become deeply tense. “Come on, now. Tell me.”

Not trusting herself, not trusting him, Sam twisted to see his face, and it was nearly her undoing. There, in his eyes, was the same look she'd seen in her dream, his soft brown eyes trying to tell her everything she wanted to hear. “I...” She faltered, uncertain what to say, how to say it. “I was dreaming,” she said.

“No shit,” he said wryly. Unwilling to let it drop, he pushed her. “About what?”

About you, she thought... but she stopped herself before she blurted it out. “About... about P3R-118... about us on P3R-118,” she said, afraid to say more, afraid to look into his eyes again and have him see what she felt... how scared she was about her feelings for him, frightened of scaring him away, worried that his feelings weren't the same as hers.

He sighed as she dropped her chin, avoiding his glance. He slipped his fingers under her chin and lifted, making her look right at him. “I had those dreams too,” he said.

“You did?” she asked, astonished. “Wait,” she said, recovering, “what did you dream?”

He thought about what he wanted to say, wondering if now was the right time. In his head he could hear Father Andrew's voice. “You'll know when it's right, Jack,” he said.

“Can I convince you to lie back down with me?” he asked sweetly. Wide-eyed, she nodded. This was almost surreal to her, but she lay back down next to him, and allowed him to gather her to his side. In fact, she relished it, his hard, warm body next to her, strong arm around her shoulder, making her feel loved... was that it? she wondered... was she loved?

“After we got back from P3R-118 I had dreams, just like you did... er, do.” He cleared his throat and drew on his courage. How is it I can fight off a platoon of Jaffa and feel less scared than I do right now, he wondered. He shrugged slightly to himself. “I dreamt about you, Sam... well, Thera, I guess,” he said. “And I dreamt about you every single damn night.” He laughed softly. “And I did a lot of laundry, if you get my drift,” he said, giving her a little jab with the elbow draped around her.

The hand she rested on his chest clenched. He charged on, trying to get everything out before he lost the nerve. “Eventually, the ... immediacy ... of the experience began to wear off, but...” Here, he stopped, and he wondered if he could still say what he needed to say. He swallowed convulsively, taking a breath and letting it out. She could feel his heart rate accelerate. He found his voice. “But the feelings... well, they didn't wear off. I mean, I still have them. Uh...” He squeezed her slightly. “I suck at words, Sam,” he said.

He lifted her chin, looking down at her, and kissed her. “I mean, I still have feelings for you,” he said. “That hasn't changed.”

Sam hesitated. Was he saying...? The look in his eyes, the feel of his lips, his body next to hers... yes, he was saying... And she responded, as she had on P3R-118, “Well, then, I feel better.”

And she did. She felt better... in fact, she felt fan-fucking-tastic. Impulsively she rolled onto his tee-shirt clad chest and kissed him passionately, and when she let up, because they both needed air, she knew exactly what she wanted. “Jack?” She looked down at him, smiling up at her... well, smirking really... Jack's version of a smile.

“Yeah?” he asked, wondering what she could possibly want, because whatever it was, he was going to give it to her. How could he not? He'd just told her he loved her, in his own way, and she, she was good with that. So, anything... anything she wanted... he'd give it to her.

Sam crossed her forearms on his chest and lowered her chin onto them. This position put her face inches away from his, her lips almost on top of his. “Do you think... I mean, I'd like to ...” She started to smile, one of those big, fat Carter smiles, with sparkling eyes and white teeth and that dimple she pretended she didn't have. And between the kissing and her beautiful face right above him, her breasts crushed to his abdomen, Jack's cock made its insistent presence known, poking her in the side as it stiffened and grew. That's what was making her smile, and she shifted and twisted to look down at it. “Hi there, little guy.” she said, her fingers tightening around him.

“Hey!” he said, in mock indignation. “Little? Little guy?”

“What do you want me to call it, Jack?” she asked, her smile widening, if possible. “Big fella?” She leaned over, gave him a squeeze, and kissed the plumy head, swiping her tongue across it, making him gasp.

He decided he'd had enough play for the time being. He rose in one swift move and pulled her under him, her bare breasts bouncing, his body sliding easily over her, because of the peach satin negligee still wrapped around her. “Was there something you wanted, Sam?” he asked, nuzzling her neck, moving down to her breast.

“Y-yes,” she said, awash in sensation as he moved over her.

“Wellllll?” he asked, before he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking strongly, making her flesh pucker. Her hips bucked in response, her clit swelling, the sensitive tissues of her pussy pulsing with blood.

“W-well, I ... want you to make love to me,” she got out at last.

He released her nipple with a pop and rose up above her to look down. He was definitely smirking. “Do you want me to make love to you... or do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, holding her down with his weight. She blinked at him, thinking.

“Tell me about my options,” she said, unable to keep her smile in check.

“Well, let's see,” he began. “If I'm going to make love to you, there's this long, sweet build-up, lots of foreplay and gentle teasing, and when I enter you, the first time, it's slow and tender.” Sam's eyes grew wide. She licked her lips and swallowed.

“And if you fuck me?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

There was something about Sam saying “fuck” that made his cock twitch suddenly. She rarely used profanity, although he'd certainly heard her say that word before, but in this context, with one of her tight nipples wet with his saliva, and the other one beckoning him, he thought it was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen or heard. He realized abruptly that she'd asked him a question. Trying to formulate something that sounded like English he responded. “If we fuck, I take you and make you scream, hard,” he said, his voice rough.

Sam grabbed her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking. Her face grew serious. He waited. “Will there be other times, Jack?” she asked. She hated how needy she sounded, how high her voice had gotten, but she needed to know... was this it? “I mean, other than tonight.”

This time he smiled... really smiled, an uncharacteristic, toothy smile. “As far as I'm concerned,” he said, “there'll be lots and lots and lots of other times, Sam.” And then he kissed her, just to seal the deal. Reducing both of them to hard breathing idiots, again, he pulled up. “Soooo, what'll it be, ma'am?” he asked, the smirk back.

“Fuck me, Jack,” she said without hesitation. “I need you inside me right now.”

His facial expression changed subtly. She watched his eyes turn black and a feral possessiveness overtake him. He got hold of her chin in one big hand, controlling her head movements, and he took her mouth. Then he stripped off the rest of his clothes and moved over her, pressing between her thighs, parting them. “Hook your ankles around me,” he said roughly, and when she did, he demanded, “Higher.”

Never had she felt so vulnerable. Never had she felt so turned on. She followed Jack O'Neill's directives nearly every day of her professional life at the SGC, but there was something blisteringly hot about taking his orders in bed. She waited for his next move.

He settled onto his elbows above her, looking down into her sweet face. He rolled to his side and stroked her hair back from her face, before he reached between their bodies to test her readiness for him, tweaking her clit for good measure and making her squeak. He positioned himself at her opening, pressing into her slightly.

“Sam,” he said, his voice rough, “if we do this... I'm not going to be able to stop. I won't want to, so you have to be sure that you want this... that you want me.”

Sam's breathing was fast and shallow. She knew he was speaking, but all she was certain of was the feel of his cock just breaching her. Something of what he'd just said seeped into her consciousness. Did she want him? Hell yes! “Jack, just shut up and fuck me... please.” She watched his face falter... uncertainty replacing drive. Abruptly her rolled off her, lying next to her, his forearms across his eyes.

“Jack?” Sam sat up and twisted to look at him. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he said from under his protective covering.

She turned and perched on her knees, the satiny nightie suddenly cumbersome. Unthinking, she stripped it off and tossed it aside. She put her hand on his chest, leaning over him. “Jack...” She reached for his arms and pulled them off his face. “Look at me,” she said. He gave her a cursory glance and then looked away. “Jack!” she said sharply. His eyes snapped back to her. “What did you say before?” He shook his head slightly. “No, I mean it. You were making me crazy and I barely heard you. What did you say?” she asked.

He sat up, looking at her face. She seemed genuinely concerned and confused. He took a breath and repeated himself. “I need to know that you want me, because I won't want to stop once we start,” he said.

She looked at him startled. “Want you?” she asked. “Jack O'Neill, I love you,” she said, suddenly realizing that she hadn't told him that before. Now he looked startled and she wondered if it was too soon to tell him.

“You love me?” he asked. She nodded. “The gray doesn't bother you?” he asked, tugging on a tuft of hair at his temple, grinning at her. Sam recovered her own smile and potched him in the chest. “Oof!” he said, falling backward, pulling her down with him.

“You're an idiot, you know,” she said, laughing at him.

“But you love me,” he said, barely able to contain a big, goofy smile. He had her upper arms in his grip, and he was holding her draped across his chest.

“Ya think?” she asked, smiling. “Jack, I'm naked with you in Daniel's bed, and there's no virus or technology or undue influence forcing me to be here... need I say more?”

“Yes,” he said, “say more.” And the raw need in his eyes, the fact that he was only half joking, got to her. She leaned down and kissed him tenderly, stroking his handsome face, putting all the love she had for him into her actions, knowing, instinctively, that he understood actions much better than words... but he needed the words too.

“Jack, when this whole ... thing... started... the reason I got this way...” She hesitated, trying to figure out how to say what she wanted to say.

“When you became frigid...?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, thinking. “You know, frigid, isn't really the right word for it. I mean, yeah, I wasn't able to, you know, come,” she swallowed convulsively, “but the real issue was how... distracted I got.” Looking up at her, as she spoke, he thought about how unlike herself she had been, how foggy and uncertain and out of it she acted, increasingly so, over the last several months, culminating in the near disaster at the end of their last mission. How could he have missed that, he thought, concern and worry glistening his eyes.

“It was as if a part of me, an important component of who I am was malfunctioning and, as much as the rest of me tried to compensate, I couldn't make it work. I was like a computer with a worm, a program with a glitch...” Her voice faded away as she recalled how unhappy, unfocused she had been. She looked down at his face suddenly and he watched her make some kind of internal decision. “I've never told anyone this,” she said, “but I guess, if we're going to be... whatever it is we're going to be,” she said, smiling, “then I should tell you.”

“What?” he asked, intrigued, mystified.

“When I need to come up with an idea, when I'm stuck and I can't get my brain to analyze any more data, I have a trick I use to jump start my intuition, to make myself concentrate and initialize new ideas.”

“I've always wondered about that,” he said. “I just figured you pulled those things out of your ass... and a nice ass it is,” he said, stroking long fingers down the silky curve of her spine to fill his hand with her sweet flesh.

But she was not to be detoured. She needed to tell him this and she was determined to do so. “In a way, Jack, that's exactly right,” she said, looking at him seriously. He frowned in confusion. “When I had to come up with something, and was at my wit's end, I excused myself and went to the ladies room, the lab, or my quarters and ... well, let's just say, I gave myself a hand.”

“Huh?” He became even more confused.

“Come on, Jack,” she said, teasing, coaxing, “think about it... think...”

He looked at her face, the smirk which was developing there as he processed what she'd said. “You... you... you...” Sam's eyebrows raised, as she waited. “All those times I waited outside your lab, when the door was closed, and you wouldn't let me in, waiting for your great idea, you were ...” His eyes grew wide.

“It clears my mind, juices my imagination, puts me back in touch with my most basic, feminine self,” she said. “And when I've come, and the tension is gone, I can put my mind back on the problem with a renewed perspective. That's when all my best ideas come... no pun intended,” she said, giving him a fresh smirk.

“Holy b-b-buckets,” he said, amazed, and turned on, realizing that he had so much more to learn about her... and it gave him some good ideas for later...

“So when I couldn't come,” she continued, “it was so much more than just frigidity. My conduit to inspiration closed down as well, and I felt ... less ... than my usual self. I got terribly distracted, like there was a heavy, blurry filter between me and the world.”

“And this started after we came back from P3R-118?” he asked.

She nodded. “I think it was because... well, I wanted you. I needed you. I realized I loved you and... I thought I could never have you.” She rolled off his chest and snuggled under his arm. “I mean, technically, as far as the frat regs are concerned, this is very, very wrong... just being here together makes us vulnerable to courts martial, whether we actually... uh... consummate this thing or not.”

“Yeah...” he said, tightening his arm around her.

“Soooo, I guess, we still have things to work out. A lot of things to work out... but...” She put her hand flat on his chest to feel his heart beat, which seemed to be thudding loudly. “So what?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“So, we have things to work out... and maybe they're significant things... well, they are significant things, but ... so what?” She rose above him and fixed him with her sparkling blue eyes, and he couldn't look away, even if he wanted to. “Do you love me?” she asked.

He nodded, then found his voice. “Yes... yes, I love you, Sam.”

“And I love you,” she said, a certain finality in her voice. “That's really all that matters.” She lay back down in his embrace. “We're a team, Jack. We've faced odds far more threatening than this... and we've succeeded. We'll work it out and it'll be fine.” She lay silent, thinking, for a moment. “Besides, the rest of our team, Daniel, Teal'c? They'll help. Daniel already has... and I know Teal'c will understand.” His arm tightened around her again. The silence extended as both of them digested her words.

“So, Colonel,” she started, and there was something about the way she said his rank that made his entire blood supply race for his dick... as if she had thick, hot, buttered caramel in her mouth and she was going to slather it all over him. “If we're done talking... for now... you gave me two choices a while back and, as I recall, I gave you my answer.”

He disentangled himself from her, leaving her sprawled out on Daniel's blood red satin sheets, looking at him, a vision, hair spiked up from rolling around with him, cheeks flushed, thigh muscles tensing and un-tensing with her arousal. He knew there were countless men in the galaxy who would have traded places with him at that moment, but she was his. “Jack, this first time, I want it hard and fast,” she said.

“No problem here,” he said gesturing to his cock, a kind of ta-dah, magician's flourish, to show her how ready he was.

“Because I've waited so long, and I need you so much, and ...” He was on her, pushing her thighs open, pulling her knee up, settling into her hips, placing himself at her opening.

“I thought you said we were done talking ... for now,” he said, his voice harsh in her ear. She grabbed his head and pulled him down, kissing him hard, sweeping her tongue into his mouth, and he rammed his cock into her, sheathing himself in her hot slickness in one hard thrust.

She cried out, grasping his shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh. He waited unmoving, though the urge just to keep thrusting was nearly overpowering. He could feel the flutterings in her muscles, how tight she was... god, he felt how tight.... He gritted his teeth and waited.

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” she whispered. “Jack... Jack... don't stop, don't...” That's all he needed. He withdrew slightly and drove into her again, strong muscles in his back and abdomen propelling him into her.

He was much larger than she anticipated. He seemed big, remarkably well proportioned, necessary for a man of his height and build, but it was deceptive, because once he was within her, she felt as if he was imbedded in her womb, pressed so deeply inside her that she wasn't sure she could take him all. And he was giving her it all, every single inch, so hard, pulsing and hot.

Sam's skin felt electrified, a current just underneath, vibrating along her nerves, setting the endings on fire, making her blood pump faster, her sensations heightened. With each powerful thrust, the feel of him forcing himself into her, of her welcoming him, the friction and pressure of his skin against hers, she thought she might explode, ignite like dry tinder under a hot lens.

He grasped her shoulders, his hands under her, holding on for leverage and strength. His forehead dropped to her collarbone, and she heard him hiss her name, her breasts crushed between them, his length pulling and pushing and wedging in and out of her flesh. Her muscles began to tighten and quiver inside her. It had been building since he first stood in Daniel's bedroom, slouching in the doorway, and now it was
expanding, grabbing at her womb, fluttering and then slamming into her, like a brick through a windshield, like a 50 mile an hour wind, a force of nature so primal, she was gone.

Sam screamed. Her hips bucked up into his and she came... hard, as promised. And the feel of her clenching his dick, the rippling tension of her orgasm, as she milked him, pushed him over the edge, beyond his control. His release tore through him, ripping down his spine, arcing through his balls, his cock a conduit to her, the tight, hot haven he filled with his seed.

* * * * * *

The klaxons sounded as SG1, General Hammond and the SGC security force waited at the bottom of the ramp for their Tok'ra visitors. The leaders sent by the Tok'ra High Council agreed to this meeting only because Apophis was threatening, and the Tau'ri were anxious to take him on. The Tok'ra brought with them new technology, at least new to the SGC, an energy weapon capable of detonating a blast sufficient to blow an entire Goa'uld base, if only it were properly powered. Sam was anxious to get her hands on it, hoping a naquadah reactor could be made to interface effectively. She expected to see her father among the Tok'ra dignitaries, but was disappointed, when he didn't show.

“Welcome to Earth, people,” General Hammond announced, signaling the SFs to lower their weapons. The lead Tok'ra approached the General and introduced himself, as the delegation meandered down the ramp.

“Colonel O'Neill! Daniel Jackson!” The unmistakable figure and voice of Anise emerged from behind another robed visitor to greet them.

“Freya!” Jack said, though he knew he was speaking not to the host, Freya, but to the symbiote, Anise.

“Anise,” Daniel said, shooting Jack a look of annoyance. “It is good to see you again,” he said, nodding his greeting.

Anise smiled at him, then bobbed her head, signaling the emergence of Freya. “Colonel O'Neill, Anise and I are pleased to see you again, as well.”

“Yeah, well, welcome and all that,” he said, his manner dismissive and just on the edge of rude. He shoved his hands in his pockets and cast a sideways glance at Sam.

“Major Carter, Anise and I are most anxious to begin work with you immediately,” Freya said, turning to Sam.

“Freya... Anise,” Sam said by way of “hello”, blinking a little in confusion, not exactly sure which person she should greet.

Freya nodded once, indicating the transfer of consciousness to Anise. “We must begin immediately, Major Carter,” Anise said imperiously. She turned to a large Tok'ra, who stood next to her on the ramp. The man was carrying a metal valise, which he hefted onto his forearms, so Anise could open it. She flicked a button and the case flew open revealing an odd-shaped, hand-held device. “This is a dis'tra'nikatel,” she said, lifting it from the case to show SG1.

Abruptly the 'Gate Room was filled with the sound of drawn weapons. Both Jack and Teal'c pulled theirs, Jack his sidearm, and Teal'c his staff weapon, every man aiming at Anise.

“You have nothing to fear from me,” she said, greatly taken aback.

“Put the weapon down,” Jack said, his voice flat and dangerous. She did as told, the only sign of her nervous response, was the rapid rise and fall of her well defined breasts, clearly visible in her peek-a-boo outfit.


Daniel navigated up the ramp toward her, taking her elbow and putting himself between her and the drawn guns. “A dis'tra'nikatel?” he asked, as if there were no tension in the room.

Gratefully Anise turned to him. “Yes,” she said.

“What's that mean, Daniel?” Jack asked.

“Master weapon,” Daniel said. “And could we put our weapons down now?” He sounded just a bit miffed.

The SFs and Teal'c looked to the Colonel, who caught General Hammond's eye. He nodded to Jack, who in turn offered a stiff nod to the rest of them. The sounds of clicking and shuffling indicated the lowering of weapons. Daniel walked down the rest of the ramp with Anise on his arm, the dis'tra'nikatel's box closed, its carrier walking behind.

“Major,” General Hammond said, turning to Sam,”you want to take Anise down to the lab and hook that thing up?” He pointed at the case, a slightly confused look on his face.

“Yessir,” she said. “Anise? Would you come with me, please?” The two women left the 'Gate room, nearly everyone trying not to watch them, nor trying to decide which one's ass was hotter. There was no question in Jack's mind.

Several hours later, Daniel came down to see how they were doing. He had been in the meeting with Hammond and the Tok'ra dignitaries, an impromptu negotiation involving technology-sharing protocols, and had been sent, essentially, to fetch Anise. It was just as well, since neither she nor Sam were having much luck with the damn dis'tra'nikatel and the naquadah reactor. Nothing they tried so far permitted them to interface the two devices, allowing the latter to fuel the former. And Sam was nearly at the end of her rope and losing patience with Anise's supercilious and tyrannical ways. When Daniel escorted her out the door of Sam's lab, she was grateful to see the Tok'ra scientist go.

It didn't take long, before Jack appeared in her lab doorway. “Whatcha doin' Carter?”

“I'm stuck, sir,” she said.

He walked in, closing the lab door behind him. “Stuck?” he asked. “As in, I'm fresh out of ideas and I don't know where the next is going to come from... stuck?”

“Uh huh,” she responded, a big smile breaking across her features.

He sauntered over to her and stood behind her. Surreptitiously she hit a button under the top of her lab table. There was a quiet whirring sound behind them as the special footage she made for the surveillance camera replaced the actual live images of them standing together in her lab. He glanced over his shoulder at the camera, making sure that the red “record” light was out. “Soooo,” he said. “You're stuck. Anything I can do to help?”

She turned and put her arms around his neck. “I can think of a couple of things, Jack,” she whispered, as she scraped her fingernails through his hair, and then she kissed him. He leaned into her, trapping her between the lab table and his body, pressing his hips, and ample evidence of his arousal, into hers. He pulled away only long enough to unbuckle and unzip her BDU trousers, push them and her panties off her hips, put his hands on her waist and lift her up onto the lab table.

“Ooooh!” she said urgently. “Cold...”

“Not for long,” he said, opening his pants and letting them fall to the floor.

“We don't have much time, Jack,” she said in between nibbles on the sensitive skin of his neck.

“Then we'll have to be efficient,” he said, his eyes flashing. He pushed her shoulders back until she leaned on her hands. He pulled her ass forward, until she was nearly off the edge of the table, moving between her thighs until she was open to him. Then, without preamble, he lowered his mouth to her sex and slipped his tongue along her folds, circling her clit with the tip. Involuntarily, her knees fell farther apart, as he worked her flesh, and she began to squirm and buck from his attentions.

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and hauled him up. “Now, Jack,” she said, her eyes already glazed, cheeks pink with arousal.

“Happy to oblige, ma'am,” he said, casually grabbing his cock and placing the blunt head at her opening. He pressed into her, and she could feel her muscles resisting, then giving way, her slickness allowing him to sheathe himself fully in one hard thrust. Sam sighed loudly, reminding Jack to kiss her, his tongue sliding between her parted lips and swallowing any sounds she might make.

He began to pump into her, hard, files on the lab table sliding off and hitting the floor, and neither of them noticing. The only thing in her consciousness was the stiff feel of him inside her, pressing and thrusting and making her pussy clench and weep with need as he worked his hips in and out of her. And for him, the only thing in the world at that moment was this woman, who gave him her heart and wanted nothing more than to love his tired, scarred, old carcass, with her soft, warm body. And the smell of her as he worked them both toward climax, the heated honey of her skin, the soft sounds she made as she neared release, the way she clung to him, her mouth on his neck, made him need her all the more. She felt the coiled power of his thrusts, the forceful strength of his body, his desire for her held in strict check as he twitched and throbbed within her, as he waited for her, his mouth and fingers busy touching and stroking her in the places which made her want to scream, until she did. “Jack!”

And as the powerful muscles of her orgasm contracted around him he allowed himself his most intimate fantasy, watching her come, her beautiful face in the throes of her release, until he could hold on no more and he had to pump his seed within her, surging, filling her, until there was nothing left.

The door to the lab swung open. “Sam, are you alri...?” Daniel, who heard her cry out as he came down the hall, didn't stop to knock. He barged into the lab, ready to fight. The sight which greeted him: Sam half naked, perched on the lab table, Jack, equally nude, collapsed across her, standing between her up-raised knees, her hands and ankles hooked around him. Daniel quickly put a shielding hand over his eyes, but just as quickly lowered it and gawked, before he hid behind his hand again.

Sam looked over at him. She nudged Jack, her breathing too fast and shallow, her mind too full of sated mush, to formulate language. Jack looked at him too, blinking, but re-engaging more rapidly than Sam. “Daniel,” he said roughly, needing to clear his throat.

“Um... yeah... it's me, Jack,” the archaeologist said from behind his hand.

“What... what are you doing here?” the Colonel wanted to know.

“General Hammond asked me to check on Sam, see if she needed any help.” Daniel ventured a quick peek from behind his hand, the sight of a half naked Colonel firmly embedded in his 2IC just too delicious to miss. Sam barked a laugh, followed by the biggest smirk he'd ever seen from Jack.

“She's getting all the help she needs,” he said smugly.