by Lady J
A/N - This popped up before I suddenly decided that all of this was a series so consider it a bit of future fic. Fisting appears in this which might be probably squicky for some so don't read it if that's the case. Otherwise, enjoy.
for blacksquirrel, ayodele, and others who thought this was possible.
~*~Lorne likes the way Teyla moves with him when they make love. The slide of taut muscles beneath impossibly soft skin reminds him that she is a delightful contradiction. For a woman so seemingly small, Teyla has strength in abundance. There's something very sexy about that fact that turns Lorne on.
Propped against the pillows of her bed, Teyla is stretched out before him, her skin lightly skimmed with sweat. He's been playing with her for a while, the fingers of one hand stroking, bringing up her wetness. The other smoothing over the slight roundness of her belly. They have plenty of time since neither one of them is on duty and so they're taking things slow. Rushing will not do.
His fingers slide in and out of the warm silkiness of her; the walls of her cunt undulate against him. He knows the right moment to introduce a third finger, the hitch in her breathing reminding him to slow long enough to let her adjust to this new sensation.
"You tease me," she whispers before her voice cuts off in a soft 'oh' of surprise.
Lorne has four fingers inside her now, tucked into her wetness, sliding softly. The first time he'd done this, it had been with a waitress from a seedy little bar near Edwards. She'd taken him home with her and over the course of the evening showed him that not every woman needed a dick to satisfy her.
Brown skinned body rises and falls as he presses forward and withdraws, curling the tips of his fingers up just enough to touch the soft secret spot deep within Teyla's cunt. More wetness floods his hand as Teyla arches her back and presses her head into the pillows. Gutteral words fall from her lips in a language that Lorne doesn't recognize but somehow understands because he's probably said them himself.
God. God almighty.
He feels like a god or at least something like it knowing that he holds Teyla in this place with just this one hand. And she's clenching around him so tight that it's hard to pull his hand back. He slips his free hand up her body to tweak a nipple and it distracts her long enough for him to slide his hand out of her but not all the way.
Lorne tucks his thumb into his palm and begins to push forward. He whispers, "relax," and Teyla does.
He can feel her heat in the tips of his fingers as he pushes, pushes, collapes his hand so he can slip past the ring of bone that is the last barrier before he's in, and curling his hand back up until it's a fist and then pulling back to graze his knuckles against the bone and hearing Teyla shriek as he rotates and pushes back in to stroke and to pull and to push and to feel her clenching pulling him into her and pushing out light heat energy life all back into his hand.
And it's here that he knows what he holds; in the throb of her heartbeat against his knuckles, the deep hard clench of her muscles against him as he strokes and pushes and pulls. Until finally. Finally Teyla is up and over and shouting to the Ancients and he's thanking God for this woman who can take this from him, trust him and his power. His gift.
When she finally lets him go - and it's a good long while before she does, Lorne lays beside her, holding her against him. Teyla grasps his hand, still wet from her cum, and pulls it up until it rests against her heart. "That was," she begins but the words fail. Lorne smiles against her shoulder and pulls her closer.