Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn't exactly a professional event, Sam reminded herself while she watched Jack seated at the table beside her and his long middle finger swirling around the delicate rim of the bar glass. Two fingers of Scotch vibrated each time the friction of his fingertip was a little too harsh. She knew he wasn’t trying to seduce her. He was just a fidgety person who always needed to have something to do with his hands. It was just a damn glass, for God’s sake. But she had missed him.  

It had been over a month since they had been in the same city, and now, their first night together after all of that time apart had to be at a wedding. It wasn’t that she minded. Kayla, Hammond's granddaughter, was a sweet girl, and it was a good excuse for Jack to see everyone at once. Sam should be grateful since it meant she would get more of his time the rest of the week, but all she could think about was all of the better things he could be doing with his fingers tonight instead of taunting his drink. 

His finger must have become too dry because as the best man’s speech dragged on, Sam watched Jack’s middle finger dip down into his Scotch, collecting a droplet of the amber heat to continue his infinite caress. Dinner was over, and Jack’s coat with the tie stuffed into the pocket had come off about thirty minutes ago right before he had turned his crisp white cuffs up a couple of times. Even now, when he spent his days in Blues behind a desk, she still saw the man of action that she had fallen in love with. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but that man was barely concealed beneath the starched collars and shiny pins. A few sips in, and he always revealed himself. 

And at length, her staring seemed to have revealed her. Jack’s eyes caught hers with a sideways glance, and she dropped her eyes. She was allowed to look these days. In fact, it was encouraged, but that didn’t mean that she liked to be caught. Jack’s wool-covered knee brushed against hers under the table, asking for her attention, and she looked up again just in time to see his Scotch moistened finger slip between his lips. To anyone else, he just looked like bored Jack O’Neill, staring mindlessly at the best man, but to her, he looked like sex. 

That bastard. Now he was trying to seduce her. Sam’s lips parted, just enough to allow her to breathe again. It was hot in the dining room, and the tiny straps of her blue dress with the thigh high slit weren’t doing enough to keep her cool. A girl could only take off so many clothes, and when a girl’s wedding date was Jack, that was really a shame. 

Jack’s finger returned to his glass, dancing slowly along the rim, and Sam thought that was the end of it, that is, until she felt his other hand slide across her exposed knee under the table. The slit in her dress was conveniently on his side, and his warm palm settled heavily. She expected the same kind of treatment he was giving his drink, but she had no such luck. His hand rested there, stationary, unmoving, immobile, purely ballistic. But Sam knew about ballistic objects. An object at rest tends to stay at rest until it is acted upon by an outside force--a force other than gravity. And she hadn’t missed him for over a month just to sit here and watch a damn glass of Scotch get more attention than she did. 

Sam tucked her chair in closer, and slinked her arm under his. With intention, she threaded her fingers over his on her knee and gave a brief squeeze. Jack’s thumb activated, brushing a light back and forth rhythm over her skin. Trusting him to continue, she stroked up his hand, over his wrist, through the light hair on his forearm, and he rewarded her trust. At the same time that he lifted his glass to take a long overdue sip, he began his lazy circular movements on her leg, first inside her knee, but she was hopeful. Hopeful that this man who always needed to be doing something with his hands would find plenty to do under the table. 

And once again, her trust in him was rewarded when his strong, capable fingers slid higher, stroking her thigh, squeezing the firm muscle, dragging his nails softly against her skin. Sam’s lips were parted again, breathing through the stimulus he was giving her, and damn it... was this speech ever going to end? Sam could see Jack smirking now—pleased with himself, and smirking. It used to get her riled up a little until she realized he was also really pleased with her. It wasn’t just self-satisfaction that played on his lips. It was contentment. It was just hard to tell the difference with someone whose words were usually double-dipped in sarcasm, but now she knew. Jack was happy.  

Drawn to him by this truth, Sam dropped a kiss on his shoulder, earning her a sweet lingering look from him. Her fingers reached for him of their own accord, finding his leg under the table, and his sweet look turned to fire in an instant. Intoxicated by her own power over him, Sam teased him the way that she had asked him to tease her, dragging her fingers up and down his leg, massaging with her thumb, dipping her fingers between his legs much higher than was decent during the best man’s speech. Jack’s eyes were back front and center now when he pulled his lip between his teeth for a nibble, and that wasn’t fair. She was supposed to be the one nibbling on his lip, soothing it with her tongue, sucking it softly between her own lips. 

As punishment, Sam flipped her hand over and let the backs of her fingers drag lazily up his fly. Who was smirking now? She was. Sam was smirking when she found him more than half hard in his pants, straining for her. Emboldened by the results of their flirting, Sam slipped a second hand under the table and adjusted her dress before she spread her legs just a little for him. She wanted his fingers on her, and the best man didn’t seem to be running out of steam yet. Jack resisted the tug of her fingers against his hand, throwing her an uncharacteristically cautious look, but she wasn’t asking him to finger her under the table for God’s sake. She just needed to feel him. Still, she let up, just stroking his hand with her fingers, letting him decide for himself what he wanted to do. 

For the third time that night, her trust in him was rewarded, and his fingers brushed softly against the silk between her legs. If anyone was looking too closely they would probably see that her partially exposed breasts had started to rise and fall a little more rapidly than they had a moment ago. She was sure Jack saw with the sideways glances he was giving her each time his knuckle rubbed up to her sensitive bundle. Damn it, maybe she did want him to finger her under the table. Sam’s palm was on his thigh now, gripping too hard to ground herself. When he took a long drink of his Scotch and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the liquid burn at the same time that his knuckle brushed her clit, she was sure. She wanted him to finger her under the table. 

Suddenly, the muffled voices and sporadic laughter were gone. Glasses were being raised, silverware was beginning to tinkle against glassware, and Sam shook off her lust to pick up her own glass. The Butterfly Effect was what they had called the drink. She wasn’t sure what was in it, but she wanted to order it by the gallon. Time to drink. Time for the bride and groom to kiss. Going through the motions, Sam set her glass back down, noticing that Jack had finished his before he leaned over, kissing her cheek, and whispering in her ear. 

“Come find me in 5 minutes,” he rumbled the order, and grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair he strategically placed it in front of him before giving her a wink and disappearing. 

Chapter Text

It hadn’t taken Sam long to find a glow coming through the crack in a conference room door across the atrium and strut her way over. Sure enough, one peek through the door revealed one Jack O’Neill, looking smug and sexy and smoldering. He led her into the room with a hand at her back and locked the door behind her. The overhead lights were off, leaving the room lit by a few sconces over a side table in the conference room. 

“What took you so long?” he teased. 

“Took a wrong turn at the service elevator,” she returned, slipping a finger between two of the buttons at his abdomen, and tugging him closer. She needed to erase all of the space between them, and she needed to unbutton a few more of these buttons. Deftly, she opened his shirt, leaving just a couple in place at his waist, but giving her a view of his chest that she wanted to kiss. She wanted to, and she did while she scratched her nails over his nipples. 

“Well, better late than... not at all,” he finished, stopping himself from completing the cliche, but he didn’t stop himself from running his fingertips up her bare arms. The chills at his touch ran up her spine. She knew it was probably good form to talk a little before she jumped him, but honestly, she just wanted him right now. They could talk on the phone. Tonight he was here. He was real. He was flesh and bone. 

“Jack...” she breathed, her eyes flitting from his smiling eyes to the slip of his tongue moistening his dry lips. 

“Sam?” he asked, his smile growing and his thumb reaching up to trace her cheekbone. She had dreamed of that smile for weeks. She had heard it in the phone on the nights they had been able to talk. But seeing it, being able to touch it if she wanted to, was a temptation into which she wanted to fall head-first. And what better way to touch his smile than with hers? 

She didn’t have to reach very far in her heels, and Jack wouldn’t have made her. His Scotch flavored lips matched her hunger, sipping and tasting with intent, and finally those hands that she had been watching all night were on her. They weren’t teasing and seductive anymore. They were wanting and insistent. Jack’s mouth was on her jaw now, leading her to give him access to her neck which she did, but her eyes fell on the locked door beside them. Only a panel of frosted glass stood between them and the atrium. When a shadow passed by, Sam’s heart stopped for a moment. 

“Oh God, we really shouldn’t be doing this.” Sam could have smacked herself for saying that out loud because she wanted to do this. She needed to do this. 

“What’sa matter, Carter? You used to like a little adrenaline,” he whispered into her ear before taking it between his teeth and sucking lewdly. 

“Who said I didn't like it? But if we get caught—” Sam pulled back, looking him in the eye, and allowing his teasing grin to harden her nipples arching against the silk of her dress. She wanted him to look—wanted him to see her pebbled and aching for his touch under her clothes. 

“It’s us. We’re not going to get caught,” he said simply, and he let his eyes wander her body just how she wanted. His eyes darkened, and his face twisted in concentration as he surveyed her. Her breasts were heaving with her arousal, spilling out of the low-cut dress that she had worn just for him, wanting him to look, wanting him to like what he saw, and the dim light cast a whisper of a shadow across her aching nipples. 

“We could get in so much trouble, Jack,” she warned him shoving her fingers into his hair, and the instant she said it she remembered who she was talking to. The backs of his fingers brushed over her breasts, teasing her nipples, before Jack turned his hands to grope her properly. Propriety had never felt so good and she arched toward his touch, giving her approval to his rough presumptuousness. 

“What’s your point?” he asked as he pressed his erection against her hip. Sam needed him like she needed breath when another shadow passed by the door. He watched this one with her, and claimed her mouth again, pressing her against the adjacent wall.  

“They could have seen us,” Sam protested when his mouth dropped to her neck again. 

“Yeah, they could have,” he agreed, and Sam wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her to stop or go. It didn’t really matter. She was all go. 

“Tell me you want this, Sam,” Jack whispered in her ear as he slipped a hand into the slit of her gown, squeezing her bare thigh and lifting it up around his hip. Being opened to him like this was part of his argument, and she had known from the beginning that she was going to say yes. But she loved the benefits that came from making him work for it. 

“We have to be so quiet, Jack,” she told him, and he bit her collarbone before he faced her again. That bite was going to show for the rest of the night. Sam knew she should feel something other than aroused by that fact, but she didn’t.  

“You’re the one that’s going to have a problem being quiet, sweetheart,” he told her, running his thumb along her bottom lip, and dragging his open palm down the column of her neck. 

“Promise?” she asked him, finally ready to accept her long-awaited defeat in this argument. 

“Oh, yeah.” Jack pulled her hips in close to his, and with a palm securely on her ass he ground against her, swaying and maneuvering until she felt her butt hit the edge of the conference room table. At least they wouldn’t be throwing shadows outside the door now. She only needed to worry about sounds. 

“I thought you said you didn’t want to dance,” she teased him in reference to his leading walk to the table. 

“Weddings have the wrong kind of dancing,” he nibbled at her mouth. “I prefer dancing with a little more connection.” 

“Me too, I think.” 

“Let me show you,” he teased. “You’ll love it.” 

Fingers—those long fingers that had toyed with his drink and with her—slid under her skirt, opening it at the slit, and slipped her panties down as if her panties had been following his orders for eight years. Sam watched the bulge in his pants twitch as he completed each step, and she was salivating at the thought of getting him in her hand, mouth, pussy... any of them would do. She just wanted him. Carefully, he rucked her skirt up higher, taking advantage of that slit to reveal her now naked center. Sam helped him as he settled her ass more firmly on the table and spread her legs wide. The thirst in his eyes was evident when he took a lingering look at her pussy, open and wanting him. 

“What do you want tonight?” he asked, drawing his fingers down her cheek. 

“Just you,” she breathed, placing a kiss on his fingers. Jack reached into his pocket and dropped a foil square on the table next to her while he worked on his belt and dropped his pants. Sam helped him with the last few buttons of his shirt, wanting to push it out of the way and feel him fully. 

“Since when do you carry condoms?” she asked, taking his still bare cock into her hand. He was hot and heavy against her palm, and she stroked him, loving the way his whole body reached for her when she pulled toward his head. They hadn’t used a condom in a long time. They both loved going bare. The sensation, the heat, the intimacy, and for her the feel of being filled with his orgasm were all strong arguments in favor of forgoing the rubber. 

“It's a hotel. They were in the bathroom, and I don’t want to ruin your dress,” he explained, drawing a finger down her bare breast along the V at her neckline. 

“Why not?” she asked, still working his erection through her fingers. His breathing was increasing, but she was working him slowly, letting the pressure build. He wasn’t going to come until he was inside her. 

“Because it shows off your hotness, and I want to see you in it again.” 

“So, you don't want to ruin the dress. Just me?” She squeezed his base as she asked, and he groaned. 

“If that’s what you want, then yes.” Fuck, yeah. That’s what she wanted. 

“Yeah,” she demanded with a punishing kiss to his lips and a final squeeze to his cock. “Do it.” 

Suiting up, Jack teased her opening with his tip, and suddenly it was all wrong. 

“Wait,” she told him, reaching for his fingers. “Need this. Watched you playing with your drink, and I couldn’t stop thinking...” Sam lowered their joined hands, guiding him between her legs. “I want that.” 

“That’s funny. That’s exactly what I was thinking about,” Jack told her as he touched his fingertip to her entrance. His touch on the rim of her tender pussy, circling over and over, inspired a sensation so teasing, so overwhelming that Sam’s body squirmed under his touch, simultaneously trying to get closer to him and retreat.  

“Is this what you wanted?” he rumbled, demanding her attention. “Is this what you wanted me to do to you in there?” 

“Yes,” she whispered shyly, while her body, anything but shy, rocked into his hand. 

“Right there in front of everyone?” he asked, brushing his thumb against her clit. 

“Yes,” she answered more firmly. “Don’t care about them. Just want you.” 

Finally, Jack dipped his fingers deep into her, and she gasped a little too loudly. He pressed a finger to his lips, but he didn’t stop, dipping in and out of her, stroking that spot that never failed to deliver pleasure. He kissed her hard while his fingers relentlessly worked her toward her orgasm, and when she was close, he released her lips. 

A moan left her mouth when his thumb began circling her clit, and his hand clamped over her mouth. His tempo increased as he worked her faster, begging her to come on his fingers. Jack’s free hand brushed down her neck, his fingers dragging down her throat, teasing her with a squeeze that never came. While his fingers pulsed between her legs, his hand slipped under her dress, fondling her bare breast.  

Sam’s eyes flitted to the door over his shoulder at the sight of another shadow, and she nearly came. Jack was getting her off on his fingers while people walked past the door just a few feet away. The almost orgasm rumbled through her, but was realized only in her throat with a groan. 

“Shhh, gotta be quiet, Sam. Don‘t wanna get caught.”  

Fuck, he was right. Sam knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but she had to ride his fingers anyway. His eyes were still on hers, dark and sparkling with every thrust of her hips against his hand. She could come this way so easily for him. He knew her body, and he knew all of the right buttons to push. 

“You wanna come like this, baby? You wanna drip down my fingers?” It was like he was reading her mind, but they didn’t have time for multiples right now. And she needed him. She needed him to come with her.  

“Later. Need you now,” she groaned. Grabbing his hips roughly, she pulled him in. The loss of his fingers was painful, but his hand, damp with her arousal pulled her even more precariously toward the edge of the table in preparation for the mutual claiming that was about to happen.  

Jack watched her. His brown eyes locked with hers, demanding her attention as he slid deep into her body. The finger fucking he’d given her had worked her so close to the edge that she already wasn’t going to take long tonight, but with his eyes on hers with every thrust, it was going to be embarrassingly fast. 

Jack’s body invading hers was always intense, stretching her, pushing her, filling her, but now when he filled her, rocking slowly, allowing her to adjust, she couldn’t help her moan. Another shadow had passed by the door and she remembered the urgency, the forbidden nature of what they were doing. 

“Feel so good, Sam,” he told her, pushing in to the hilt, and nestling his thumb against her clit. He was seemingly oblivious to the passers-by now that he had turned his back to the door. 

“Is that an order?” she asked, and a short-lived grin graced his face, replacing his intensity for a moment. 

“Hell yeah, it is,” he answered, circling her clit roughly and pumping his hips against hers. Jack buried his face in turn in her hair or in her neck while he loved her with his body. The table was hard against her ass, and Jack was hard and rough inside of her, pounding her into the table in a way she might crave forever after this. Gathering him into her arms, Sam held onto his shoulders letting him own their rhythm. They had plenty of give and take in life and in their sex life, but tonight, it felt so damn good to just be taken by this sexy man that she was lucky to call hers. 

Sam was whimpering now with each press of his hips, her body unable to be controlled under the onslaught of the impending orgasm he was delivering. Her head tipped back, and Jack’s kiss growled against her begging throat. The rough thrust of his cock inside her hit at just the right moment when her muscles pulsed. She was coming, and there was no stopping it. 

“That’s it, Sam,” Jack coaxed her, fucking her sweetly through each wave, giving her every bit of stimulation and pressure she could stand until she could stand it no more, and then he joined her, spilling himself neatly into the condom and breathing hotly against her neck. 

Coming down always left Sam’s ears ringing, but even through the ringing she heard her own gasps, a little louder than they should be and she buried her face in his shoulder. 

“Ja... Ja... Jack,” she breathed into his neck with a kiss. 

“So hot,” he judged into her hair. 

“So good,” she agreed, rubbing her hands down his chest under his shirt. Her mind shifted quickly—more quickly than she wanted it to. 

“We should probably...” Sam hinted with a glance toward the door, but Jack’s eyes just laughed, and he carefully disengaged himself from her body. 

“We’ve got time,” he answered, kissing her lips softly. “I rented the room for an hour.” 

“You rented the room?” she asked, still breathing too hard as he dropped his spent condom into a disposable coffee cup and cleaned up. 

“Sure. You didn’t think I’d actually let you get in trouble, did you?” he asked with a tease, returning to her and buttoning his pants. “Told them I needed to call the Vice President, and I was not to be disturbed. I can do whatever I want now, you know.” 

“You sneaky son of a bitch.” Jack was touching her again, stroking her thighs under her dress, massaging her hips. The man’s hands would not quit, even when his dick was out of commission. 

“What? It still worked for you, didn’t it? The illusion of danger?” And now Sam was irked. So, so satisfied, but irked because, yeah, it had totally worked for her. “I mean, it sounded like it worked for you,” he added with a smirk. 

“If we have this room for an hour that means I could have...” Sam mourned the loss of what could have been her second orgasm for just a moment, but it didn’t matter. She could collect later when they got home. And he was going to pay. 

“How much longer do we have to stay at this party?” he asked, running a hand through her hair and tugging lightly. 

“You tell me. You’re the one who can apparently do whatever he wants now.” Sam had made her peace with his ruse, but she was a little annoyed that he had done it successfully. 

“Hey, don’t be salty about the hottest sex you’ve had in a month.” 

She hated him so much right now. Mostly because he was right, but also because now she was thinking about something salty that she wanted in her mouth. And to be completely honest, it was probably more like the hottest sex she’d had in... well, more than a month anyway. 

“Party’s over,” she answered him, thinking of all the ways she would get him back. “Let’s go home.” 

Chapter Text

That damn slit in Sam’s dress went clear up to her hip when she sat in the passenger seat next to Jack, and her seat belt snuggled between her breasts like it belonged there. Presumptuous seat belt. There was only one thing that belonged snuggled between her breasts, and it was Jack’s face. Okay, maybe her breasts would be a great fit for one other thing. 

Jack shifted in his seat, pushing away all thoughts of his dick being cradled between her tits. Well, almost all thoughts. But in his defense, they were looking especially plump and inviting tonight, and sliding between them, letting them hug his cock seemed like a really good way to pay homage to her beauty.  

He reached for her keeping his eyes on the road but needing the connection. Their tryst in the rented conference room had definitely curbed his urgency born of a month of missing her. Her fingers found his in the dark, and led his hand to her bare thigh. The squeeze of his fingers was involuntary, but remarkably light under the circumstances. 

“Nice dress, right?” she asked, and his amusement was easy to hide in the dark. 

“Killer. How much did that set ya back?” 

“Who cares? I think it was worth it.” 

“So... a lot?” 

“Doesn’t matter. It got your attention,” she accused swinging her smiling blue eyes his way, and he had to look over at her. 

“Samantha,” he drawled with a grin. “You’re a brilliant woman. Let’s not pretend that it was the dress that got my attention.” 

“Let’s not pretend it didn’t help,” she argued, sliding his hand further up her leg, and it was a fair point. 

“I think I already said I liked the dress, didn’t I?” he asked, while his thumb mindlessly circled against her soft skin. 

“What do you like about it?” she asked, and his brow furrowed in the dark. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was getting at, but it seemed like a straightforward question. 

“It’s a nice color. Fabric feels good,” he mentioned, reviewing the dress in his mind since he couldn’t see it properly now. He could remember the way her eyes had looked so vibrant tonight, but he had assumed he had just missed her. He did remember the slip of the fabric in his hands when he had pushed her against the wall and filled his hands with her breasts, or when he had groped her ass while he backed her up against the table. That memory was going to keep him warm when he went back to DC. He was counting the days until he could retire and be with her full-time, but for now, memories would have to do. 

There were moments when he questioned the wisdom of being with a younger woman. It wasn’t like he had a choice though. He couldn’t make Sam older any more than she could make him younger. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel the pressure sometimes. After all, a woman’s sexual peak is in her mid to late thirties. At least, that’s what Sam told him. Unfortunately, a man’s sexual peak was quite bit earlier. And Jack wasn’t particularly close to either of those ages. So yeah, sometimes he felt the pressure. 

Like now, when Sam’s fingers slipped between his legs and brushed up his crotch while he was trying to drive them home. And when she gripped his shaft, still relaxed and satisfied from the way her body had milked him when she came, yeah, he felt the pressure. 

Fortunately, he was good under pressure, and she was good at applying it. She was good at applying it to his cock that was defying his age and growing firmer with each brush of her fingers. She was good at applying pressure to his balls, teasing and soothing. She was good at reaching low between his legs and applying perfect pressure to that spot he’d never known about until he’d been with her.  

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sam?” he asked as he turned off of the highway and into her neighborhood.  

“Complaints?” she asked, and the backs of her fingers brushed up his erection. 

“No. No complaints,” he answered, slowing to a four-way stop. Then the pressure changed to a pull when Sam’s fingers opened his belt. 

“Not sure why you bothered putting this back on,” Sam mused, opening his pants and unzipping him. 

“Indecent exposure?” he asked, but his hips reached for her instinctively. 

“Is that an offer?” she purred, her voice growing dark as she moved her seat belt behind her and leaned over the console. 

“Jesus, Sam,” Jack whispered the exclamation and brushed his hand down her arm. She looked hungry. She looked feral. She looked like her tits were going to fall out of that dress if she wasn’t careful. And she looked anything but careful right now with that determined look in her darkened eyes. 

“Were you going to drive, or...” Sam flicked her eyes toward the road, and Jack cursed under his breath before accelerating cautiously through the intersection. It was late, and the roads were empty in Sam’s new, quiet neighborhood. It was a damn good thing too, because Jack was beginning to think that the pretty purple drink she’d been sipping all night had gone straight to her head. And holy. Fucking. Shit. Now she was going straight to his head. 

Jack gripped the steering wheel tightly and eased off the accelerator in preparation for her hungry mouth. Her blonde hair spilled over his lap, and her bare back glowed in the moonlight. 

She was restrained in her approach, sucking just his tip between her hot lips, but the heat pushed him past his measured breaths and deeper into her mouth. 

Threading his fingers through her hair, he tugged lightly—not to move her or to stop her. God, never to stop her. But he liked the feel of her fine strands between his fingers, and it really turned his crank to feel the way she moved over him—dipping low and pulling up, tilting her head just so to get her tongue exactly where she wanted it. Sam moaned as he tugged sending vibrations through his balls, and he remembered with a grin and another light tug of her hair. It worked pretty well for her too. 

“Almost home, Sam,” he reminded her as she worked her lips further down his shaft. She sucked him lightly before disengaging with a pop. 

“Need to ride you,” she explained with a kiss to his swollen head. “Need you ready.” She told him, and her wide blue eyes disappeared when she sank his cock into her mouth again. 

“That’s good. I think you did it. Think I’m ready.” 

With only one block to go, he was definitely ready, but Sam wasn’t letting up—her mouth still working him, sliding down his shaft, lapping at the vein that was going to shoot his load into her. 

“Turning, Sam,” he told her when he reached the drive, and she lifted off of him, focusing her attention on his shirt buttons. 

Jack threw the car into park, and Sam began her attack in earnest, arresting his lips with hers and beginning a crawl over the console. 

“Hey, hey,” he stopped her kiss with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Get your ass inside. I want you naked.” Sam’s eyebrow raised. It was the one that said ‘excuse the fuck out of me,’ but her mouth told a different, more obedient story. 

“Yes, Sir,” she consented with a growing grin. 

The first time she had used that word in the bedroom, he’d felt weird about it, but she had seemed to like it. Now, he liked it too, even if she did use it to call him out when he was giving orders. He had a feeling she liked it when he gave orders too, but he’d never had the guts to test the theory. Much.

Jack followed her silk-covered bum up the steps and through her front door, only once giving it a greedy squeeze. Sam was headed straight for the bedroom and reaching for the zipper at the side of her dress, but with a flick of the deadbolt behind him, he reached for her wrist, pulling her back to his front. 

“That’s my job,” he told her, batting her fingers away from the zipper, and leaving a kiss on her neck. The top-down view of her cleavage was not to be missed, and it occurred to him that this is what she saw every time she looked down tonight. Lucky woman. Jack wasn’t sure how she kept her hands off of herself with a view like this. 

“Then you better fucking do it, Jack,” Sam demanded, gripping his hip and pulling him against her ass with a rolling grind against his erection.  

“Pushy,” he told her, already reaching for the zipper. He pulled until it stopped. “I thought of something else I like about this dress,” he rumbled into her ear, and she was already trying to shimmy out of it, but he stopped her. 

“You really wanna talk about the dress now?” 

“No. Wanna talk about how great your boobs look in it,” he confessed when he slid his hands up her sides to cradle her breasts and plump them up high and tight for his eyes to worship. 

“Right?” she asked slipping her hands over his, breaking the lusty haze into which she’d been entranced to look down and agree with him. “That’s what I thought too.” 

“Really. Fantastic. Makes me wanna... do things.” 

“So do it,” she told him, and Jack was sure this wasn’t the time for what he’d been daydreaming about in the car. 

“I also really love how easy it was to fuck you in this dress,” he whispered in her ear. 

“As soon as you’re done talking, I’m going to fuck you out of this dress.” 

“Yeah? Need it pretty bad tonight?” 

“Didn’t get enough of you.” 

“Let’s go,” he told her pulling away and smacking her ass probably a little too hard. 

Sam’s straps were slipping from her shoulders on her way through the bedroom door, and with a squeeze to his dick through his boxers, Jack watched the unveiling of her rear end from behind when her panties followed the dress to the floor. A smirk engulfed his face when he saw the pink spot he’d just left behind with his smack. That smirk turned to hunger when Sam ran her hands down her sides, around her hips and over her ass cheeks, soothing the pinkened skin as she turned to face him. 

“So, I heard you’re going to ride me?” he asked as he stalked toward her still fully clothed in contrast to her nakedness and ran his hands over her hips, circling the plush swells and tracing her hipbones with his thumbs. Sam pressed her naked body against him, rubbing her skin against the roughness of his clothes before she answered. 

“Hell yes.” Then she must have had enough of the friction because she unbuttoned his shirt and roughly pushed it off of his shoulders, leaving him to slide it over his wrists while she shoved his pants down. Jack knew horny Sam well, but she’d never been quite so pushy before. 

“You mad about somethin’?” 

“I’m not mad,” she answered, guiding and pushing him back onto the pillows on her bed. His head bumped the headboard, and he scooted up just in time for her to mount him with her fingers raking through his hair. “I’m empty, and that’s unacceptable. Fill me, Jack.” 

As if reporting for duty, Jack’s cock danced at her obscene order, but he dipped his fingers between her legs instead, slipping into her emptiness. She had wanted his fingers earlier tonight, and Jack wanted to feel her. Sam gave him a lusty smile before running her hands up her own body and over her breasts, her fingers tugging against her hardened pink tips when she brushed over them. There had been too many nights, too many weeks when this was all he had of her—just watching her, talking her through it. It would probably always turn him on to watch her touch herself, knowing the way she thought of him when she did it. Long-distance was a bitch, but watching Sam get herself off was a definite perk. Tonight wasn’t about watching. 

“Let’s go. Ride me hard,” he told her as he dipped his fingers deep and spread them wide before withdrawing. “I can feel how much you need it.” 

“Fucking need it,” she breathed before she fucked his mouth with her tongue. The kiss didn’t last though. Sam was too far gone. She dismounted flipping herself around, and suddenly that pert ass was in his face until she lowered herself, spreading wide. Jack could see the wetness that had coated his fingers shining, seeping from her cunt as she backed herself up, seeking his cock, and getting that wetness onto his cock was his number one goal. 

With a helping hand, Jack lined himself up with her and watched himself be engulfed by her body. She was hungry, pulling him in, pulling him deep, pushing her ass against his hips. The barrier that had been between them earlier had been convenient, but he had missed the hot slide of her along his shaft. He craved her body, raw and wet against his, and she was giving it to him now like she needed it just as much as he did. 

The evidence of his playful slap was fading on her thrusting ass, and Jack wrapped his fingers around her hips. The urge to pull her body and take control was strong, but she had said she was going to ride him so he held back. In the meantime, he was thinking of England and thanking the stars that he wasn’t a teenager anymore because Sam knew exactly how to make him feel too much with just a flutter of her walls around him. And the sounds she was making were exactly the kind of sounds she couldn’t make when they were hiding in the conference room. 

“Jack,” she breathed. The curve of her back with each rock of her hips was a thing of beauty, rolling up and down her spine. Hungry hands gripped just above his knees to hold herself up, and even her feet hugged him, pressed tightly against his hips. She really was magnificent, and he hadn’t really even allowed himself to look at her ass yet. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but the rush of her body working his and the smell of her arousal was heavy in the air and already stirring his balls. 

“Have you always been...” Sam paused to breathe with a particularly hard downward thrust. “So thick? You feel bigger.” The woman was good for his ego, but her satisfaction was a responsibility he took seriously. That meant he needed to give her more than a good fuck with a thick cock. “God, I needed this. Need you.” 

“You’ve got me,” he crooned, stroking a hand up her back, squeezing her shoulder and pulling her down on him. She had so much control over her own pleasure in this position, and he could feel the underside of his tip rubbing against her front wall with every thrust. Both of their triggers were getting good treatment tonight. “Missed you, Sam.” 

“God, I missed you. So much.” 

“I can see that,” he replied and pushed his hips up to meet hers, unable to be still any longer. 

“Need to...” Sam’s breath left her body in a whoosh over and over again. 

“Whadda you need?” he asked, stroking her sides and over her hips. The pink handprint on her ass was finally gone completely, and Jack’s fingers dug in, ready to make his next mark on her. But Sam didn’t answer his question. He felt one hand leave his thigh, and the decibel level of Sam’s sexy noises increased. He had missed those noises earlier tonight when he was reminding her to be quiet, and now she was letting them all out. 

As the symphony of sounds grew more cacophonous, she rode him. Hard. Harder with each whimper that escaped her perfect lips, and Jack had to watch. Crinkling his brow and dropping his eyes, he growled at the vision of his dick being sheathed inside her body. He pulsed his hips, discontent to let her own everything. Jack’s fingers dug into her hips and his thumbs circled over her ass cheeks, rubbing against the vigorous flexing from her skilled ride. 

Her body squeezed him so tightly when she was close, giving him all the clues he needed to know that it was time.  

“Let’s go,” he goaded her rubbing up her spine again and guiding her thrusts with a rough hand on her shoulder. Jack reminded her, “You can scream now, Sam.” 

“Oh god, I can,” she agreed. 

“Let me hear it. Scream like you wanted to when I was fucking you on that table.” Jack ordered pulling down roughly on her shoulder, and he thought she got pretty damn close with her first gasp of pleasure. 

“Again,” he told her, and Sam was riding him of her own accord now, announcing her orgasm. Jack could feel her voice vibrating down to his balls, and it was all he needed to join her, pumping up harshly into her welcoming heat.  

After a couple of rough rides, she was going to need some special treatment before their next round of reunion sex, and he was totally up for that. Jack licked his lips, wetting them against the dry rush of his breath when he thought about soothing her thoroughly-fucked pussy with his tongue.  

On her next downward thrust, he held her, jerking up, chaotic yet perfect into her. With a muffled groan he spilled deep in her, coating her inner walls, and chasing that first euphoric shot with the rest of his load, bottoming out in Sam Carter. It was as close to a home as he could ever get. A few purposefully productive breaths were all the recovery he allowed himself before he pulled her back against his chest, and pulled them both down to the bed.  

Sam liked everything in bed, and it hadn’t taken him long to figure that out after they’d gotten together. And by everything, he meant everything. Everything included soft, intimate cuddles full of eye contact and whispers after she rode him like a mad woman. She had always been a woman of contradictions outside the bedroom too so it wasn’t really all that surprising. 

“We’re making a mess,” she noted, and Jack bit her neck, chasing it with a kiss. 

“Who cares?” He could feel the mess she was talking about running down his hip, but there’s no way he was letting her go. 

Sam rolled over, notching herself into the curve of his body. 

“Good point,” she agreed, pressing a kiss under his chin. 

“Feeling better?” Jack smoothed her sex-tousled hair while he waited for her answer. 

“Mmm, yeah.” 

“Still mad at me about the conference room?” 

“I wasn’t mad,” Sam insisted with a squeeze to his bicep. 

“You were a little mad.” 

“Okay, look. I wasn’t mad at you, per se. I was mad at myself for not figuring it out.” 

“But if you figure it out it’s not dangerous anymore.” 

“It was pretty...” 

“Hot?” he asked. 

“Really hot.” 

“So were you,” he kissed her forehead with the compliment. “So, question for you... did you actually give me roadhead? That’s really not safe, you know.” 

“No, not even a little,” she agreed. “Are you complaining?” 

“No. Not even a little. I will say thank you for waiting until the risk was down to property damage instead of loss of life.” 

“I aim to please.” 

“And you always did have good aim.” 

“I missed you." Sam changed the subject, and he could feel her body melting into his, trying to say everything for her. 

“I could tell,” he answered, massaging his fingers through her hair. “Couldn’t even make it through a wedding without getting your bell rung.” 

“Are you complaining?” And what kind of a question was that? 

“Not even a little, Carter.” 

Chapter Text

The warm spray of the shower was just the kind of pre-dawn soothing Sam needed after a long, satisfying night with Jack. Their time apart had been longer than usual, and she blamed her lack of control on his absence. Her body was perfectly sore and well-used in a way that came with no regrets as she rinsed her hair. 

Sam still felt him all over her body. The way his fingers ran through her hair when she had sucked him in the car, her breasts that he had fondled and admired, the grip his fingers had on her hips—every one of those was a pleasant reminder of the love he had shown her with his hands. 

But nothing came close to the tenderness between her legs. Jack hadn’t been careful with her with his fingers or his dick, and it had been exactly what she wanted. She hadn’t been careful with herself either, riding him hard and deep during their second round. Sam felt the echoes of his cock as she brushed her fingers gently over her outer lips. The sensation was enough to draw a rush of blood and low-grade arousal. Her body was conditioned to respond after last night, but that wasn’t going to happen this morning. 

As if her need were a whistle that only he could hear, Jack opened the shower door, stepping in behind her and dropping a kiss on her shoulder. 

“Morning,” he grumbled, wrapping one arm around her waist and another across her chest to grip her shoulder. “Can I help?” 

“Knock yourself out,” Sam returned, depositing the loofa into his hand, but he didn’t let go. It was going to be hard for any other minute to compete with the skin-on-skin warmth of his body surrounding hers or his breath wafting calmly across her temple. These could easily be the best sixty seconds of the day. 

“Love you,” he whispered against her wet hair before kissing her there and releasing her from his embrace. 

“Jack O’Neill, are you getting sentimental in your old age?” 

“Maybe,” he answered when he flipped the lid on her body wash and squeezed it onto the loofa. Starting with her back, Jack washed her softly, letting his fingertips drag behind the loofa, a soothing touch after the exfoliating scratch that brushed against even those hard to reach places, more sensitive for their remote location. 

“Love you too,” she murmured when he abandoned the loofa in favor of his hand and rubbed at her lower back. Somehow, she heard his silent smile, and it made her smile too. That lazy smile stayed on her face when he washed her arms, her belly, around her breasts. But when he took her breasts fully in his hands, fondling her in the name of hygiene, her smile fell away with a groan of arousal. 

“Maybe it wasn’t the dress after all,” he suggested in her ear as he lifted her breasts high, pressing them together and rubbing his thumbs over her obviously erect nipples. “Maybe your boobs always look this good.” 

“Maybe they just look good in your hands,” Sam suggested, slipping her fingers up into his now damp hair, but he captured her fingers, pulling her hands into his and guiding them to her breasts. 

“They look better in yours,” he told her with a kiss to her neck while she held herself, softly squeezing and teasing herself. Jack’s mouth was resting on her shoulder now, and Sam had no doubt that he was watching the top down view of her chest. She wanted him to, but when his fingers slipped between her legs, momentary panic came over her. 

“Jack, wait,” she stopped him with a hand on his wrist. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just a little sensitive from last night.” 

“No kidding? You were nuts.” 

“I was nuts? What about you, Mr. Let’s-Fuck-in-Public?” 

“So hot,” he whispered with a nibble to her ear that sent a shiver down her arm. 

“God yeah, it was.” 

“Also, your idea. Not mine,” he reminded her. 

“Okay, it was a joint effort.” 

“Speaking of joint efforts, let’s get you clean, huh?” Jack dripped some more of her body wash onto his fingers. “Gimme a hand, would ya?” 

Sam covered his fingers with hers, working them between her legs, until all that was left was to slip through her outer lips to the tenderest places. But Jack let her lead, gently gliding over and around her clit, along her inner lips, back to her overstimulated cunt where he had loved her so completely last night, and she had loved him back. But now that he was there, treating her so carefully with his fingers while he sucked her neck, Sam couldn’t help but feel a growing arousal at his touch. She wanted something she couldn’t have this morning though. She needed to let her body recover a bit first. 

Jack pulled down the detachable shower head, and redirected the warm spray, turning it to its gentlest setting. The soft flood of warmth rinsed between her legs, and the pulsing pressure was glorious, moving over her at his direction, coaxing more need from her than she had a right to feel after everything they had done together last night. Sam leaned heavily into him, the hair on his chest scratching at her shoulders and his dick pressing hard into her ass, and she gave a needy gasp when Jack circled her clit over and over with the warm, wet massage. She wasn’t supposed to be so easy this morning. She wasn’t supposed to be circling her hips, chasing down just one more spray of liquid arousal. 

“Let’s go, sweetheart. You’re done here,” he whispered against her temple when he pulled the spray away from her body. “Go ahead and dry off, I’ll be right out.” 

Sam pulled herself from her haze with a breath, and stepped out of the shower. She dried herself carefully, noting that the towel didn’t feel nearly as good as Jack’s hands or the water had felt on her body, particularly between her thighs. Before she was even dried, Jack emerged, warm and dripping and reaching for a towel of his own. The rest of her skin was bound to remain damp though because this was the first good look she had gotten of him in over a month.  

One particularly slow water droplet, fell from his earlobe onto his shoulder, and while Jack dried his hair and his chest, Sam watched that droplet run over the slope of his shoulder and onto his bicep. It trickled along the curve of his muscle and into the crook of his elbow before flattening and getting lost in the hair on his forearm. Sam looked up to find his smirk watching her as she licked her lips. 

“Go sit down, Sam,” he ordered her softly and turned her body toward the door with his hands. They walked together now, his hand moving across her body from her hip, to the small of her back, to the swell of her ass. As directed, Sam sat, and her heart beat faster when Jack leaned over her kissing deeply into her mouth, stroking and coaxing a moan from her chest. She reached for him when he pulled away, in need of another taste of him, and with a grin he reached back for her, letting her tongue slide over his lips. 

“Lie back, Sam,” he directed her with a kiss to her forehead, and she did, watching as his eyes scanned down her body, fixing on her breasts with a flick of his tongue against his lips. Sam forced her breaths to slow, waiting for Jack to look his fill. He descended, his lips pulling at her left breast, his tongue teasing with soft licks, until finally his mouth found her nipple, hardened and wanting. The wet heat of his mouth sucked at her sharply, flooding her with wet heat of her own. Sam arched her back, partly on impulse, and partly in blatant approval of and in invitation for more of his oral attention. Maybe her body wasn’t ready to be fucked senseless this morning, but she would have to be dead to not want more of this—more of him. 

Jack’s face scratched slowly between her breasts before he continued his attention on her right breast. Preemptively, Sam threaded her fingers through his slightly damp hair, and guided him directly to her nipple where she craved his hungry mouth. He followed her direction with a quirk of his lips before he engulfed her, aggressively suckling her deep, and licking at her peak. Now her back wasn’t the only thing arching toward him, but her hips, in spite of the ache in her muscles, pulled her toward him, wanting him. 

“Jack,” she entreated him when her pelvis pressed against his thigh, and her hand wrapped around his cock. He was thick and heavy in her fingers, and he was thrusting into her hand. 

Pulling away, he left a kiss behind on her breast, and trailed down her stomach to kneel in front of her. Sam mourned the loss of his erection in her fingers but smiled, loving his trajectory. She gasped when he grasped her under knees and pulled her hips to the edge of the bed. 

“I know you’re sore. Let me help,” he suggested softly when he spread her thighs, baring her center to his face. Loving fingers ran up her calves, and along her inner thighs spread like a butterfly’s wings, basking in the sun. Strong hands slipped under her legs, gripping the tops of her thighs, not to be questioned, and his shoulders pressed against her inner thighs, keeping her spread wide for him. Sam studied the lines of his face when he turned his head to kiss her left thigh. They were deeper than when she had first met him, but they were also happier, deepening around his mouth. He smiled more and had fewer occasions to scowl these days. Those were lines she would always be proud to see—proud of having caused them. 

“I don't know if I can come," she warned him. “But I’m open to feeling good.” Sitting up on her elbows to watch him, she was desperate to come, and if anything could get her there, it was Jack’s mouth. His smile lines at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth deepened again when the tip of his nose traced up her pussy lips. His brown eyes were on hers, and his nose was shiny with her arousal when he nuzzled his lips softly against her clit. The only thing stopping her from bucking into his gentle kiss was his hands holding her down. 

“Soft and slow, Sam. That’s the only way right now. Trust me,” he advised her before slipping her clit between his lips again.  

Sam’s pussy was throbbing for him, gentle or otherwise, but he took his time, swirling his tongue over her, drawing her swollen bud in and out of his lips. His breath was hot on her skin, and his eyes closed in concentration from time to time. Was there anything hotter than watching Jack O’Neill make out with her clit? No. No, there was not. As if he had read her mind, his dark eyes shot open, finding hers where she watched, biting down on her lip.  

Her gaze emboldened him, and his tongue slipped downward, still far too softly, toward her opening. Jack teased her with his tongue, a hot, wet massage that was even better than the one he had given her in the shower, and a new flood of warmth seeped from her core. Jack must have tasted her because despite his restraint, his tongue lapped at her hungrily and the tip slipped inside her hole for just a heartbeat. The tenderness in her body was gone, long forgotten and replaced by a lust to feel his cock plunging inside of her. 

But Jack wasn’t going to give her his cock. His tongue, however, was so close to breaching her again, and she wanted desperately to thrust against his smug, sexy face. Sam heaved a sigh of disappointment when he pulled away, kissing at her thigh. 

“I can still taste myself inside of you,” he told her between kisses. 

Sam groaned, loving him for sharing that detail, and she loved him even more when he loomed over her, teasing her lips with his, letting her taste herself on his mouth. She took her opportunity to let out some of her pent up aggression, kissing him deeply and showing him how much she wanted his tongue. She did taste his orgasm, faintly, but it was there, mixed with her own flavor on his tongue. It whetted her appetite for him again, and whether she came or not she needed to suck him dry and soon. 

But Jack was on a mission when he leaned back, kissing her fleetingly one last time before he dropped back to his knees and buried his face between her legs, licking her clit again, still restrained, but in the best way possible.  

“Let me know if it’s too much,” he told her with a kiss, and he sunk down circling her hole again with his tongue before he tested her, sliding inside of her body. He was licking into her so slowly that she was sure she was going to lose her mind, but those hands wouldn’t let her move. It was too much, but she would never tell him that. It was too intimate, too perfect, too sweet to feel his stubbled jaw moving against her thighs while he made love to her. It was too much to have his brown eyes watching her face while he feasted on her. It was too much to feel his hair slipping through her fingers where she was rubbing at his scalp, encouraging him to tongue-fuck her. It was too much to feel his nose bumping her clit, pushing her to the edge. It was all too much, and whether she was too sensitive or not, there was no way he wasn’t going to lick her to orgasm. As much as she loved his tongue in her pussy, she knew what she needed. Gripping his short strands she tugged, pulling him up to her clit.  

Sam could see his smile in his eyes, but that smile didn’t mean he was slacking. The sweet pressure building in her body at his sucking was going to snap her. The pulsing of his lips drawing her in, and the swirl of his tongue on her too sensitive nub pulled a silent scream from her. Then for the first time this morning, Jack let go of his ‘soft and slow’ motto. Ramping up the pace, he kept his touch tender, but the pace was easily working her toward climax.  

“That’s it, Jack,” she told him, tugging at his silver hair. The smile in his eyes turned hot, watching her. She was rocking, if only her upper body, needing to feel the rhythm of his mouth to get off. She knew he was enjoying the view watching her face and her bouncing tits in turn, and that brought a faint smile to her lips for a moment.  

Sam knew what he wanted, and the thought of his sexy idea pushed her over the edge. Soon, she would tell him to take what he wanted, but right now, she was a slave to his tongue, whimpering her pleasure as that flash of ecstasy took her by surprise. She fell over the edge at the mercy of his mouth loving her.

He didn’t let her rest in her orgasm but pushed it further, longer, more. His fingers held tightly against her thighs, but her toes were free to curl at the wet release that started between her legs and swirled outward, filling her body with tingling tendrils of satisfaction. From her toes to her knees she was satisfied by this sweet man and his filthy mouth. Waves of finally quenched arousal crashed over and over up her body from his lips and her clenching core, over her belly, up to her nipples. Sam gasped at the pleasure that was making her scalp buzz with release. Sam loved him for his dedication, but eventually, the sensations were finally too much. 

“Jack, oh God, Jack.” she gasped again, catching her breath, and gripping his head with both hands. “Enough, enough. Oh God, too much.” He kissed her softly one last time, and released her thighs, rubbing soft circles into her skin where he had gripped her. He massaged her hips where she had been spread wide for him for so long, and he kissed up her stomach. 

“Samantha,” he breathed her name before kissing her lips, and she breathed in the scent of her orgasm on his lips. “You fucking soaked me.” 

“You volunteered.” 

“Who's complaining?” he smiled with another kiss, and she lapped at his lip, eager to taste what he had given her.  

“Mmm, certainly not me,” she declared, locking his lips in a hungry embrace, letting the flavor of her own pussy drip into her mouth. Jack loved tasting her, and he loved sharing with her. 

“It’s good, right?” he asked, and she tugged as his lips, pulling him down until his warm weight rested atop her body and his kiss was more insistent, pressing her into the bed.  

“So good, but I need to taste you too,” she insisted, sliding her fingers down the length of his erection massaging his base. 

Jack tried for smug amusement, but Sam could see that her touch was affecting him, reaching out to his baser needs. She slid her hand deeper between his legs and let her fingertips caress his sensitive sac with gentle pulls. 

“Fuck, Sam,” he pleaded against her ear. 

“Yes, Jack,” she answered, dragging her hands up his reactive cock. Then Sam let her own fingers dance up her stomach and drag teasingly over her breasts. “Fuck me.” Sam pinched her nipple while he watched and then collected the bead of precum from his tip that her show had elicited. She demanded his eyes with her own when she sucked his sample from her fingertip. 

“Anything you want, baby,” he agreed, and given what was on offer, she wasn’t surprised. Sam slid out of his grasp and up the unmade bed, nestling herself against a couple of pillows. Extending a hand to him, she summoned him, and he knelt beside her on the bed, leaning over to partake of another hungry kiss. His tongue pushing into her mouth, dancing over hers, stroking the roof of her mouth was delicious, but there would be time for that later. Right now, she wanted him to come. Gripping his hip, she guided him until he was straddling her waist with a cautiously confused look on his face. 

“Remember what you wanted to do to them last night?” Sam asked when she pulled his hands to her breasts. He swallowed against the thickness in his throat, and his hands loved her on instinct, massaging her plush flesh. His attention was calling forth a climax that she couldn’t tolerate right now, and he hadn’t answered her question. 

“Don’t you want to know, Jack? What it feels like to slide between them? I bet it’s going to feel good for me too,” she ventured as she thought about his cock massaging her breasts with every thrust of his hips. 

“Christ, Carter, you don’t have to—” 

“I want it, Jack,” she assured him, tugging his hips closer until his erection rested on her sternum, a salty droplet, running down his tip and hitting her skin. With two insistent hands on both of his, she pressed her breasts together until each one teased his shaft on either side. When she buried his cock between her tits, his eyes fell shut, and a labored curse slipped off his tongue.  

“Fuck me, Jack,” she ordered and he obeyed, pushing his cock slowly between her tits. Sam saw his swollen head peek through on his forward thrust, and licked her lips in anticipation. She wasn’t sure yet where he would want to finish, but either way she would be having a taste. Pausing for a moment, Jack reached to the nightstand, and Sam was about to protest until he returned with a little bottle of edible massage oil. He dripped it onto his shaft, and she wanted to give him a few pulls with her hand. She wanted to feel that hardness slipping through her fingers with no resistance, but this was about what he wanted right now. And he wanted to fuck her tits. Come to think of it, she wanted that too. 

Jack set a steady pace, his oiled cock gliding between her breasts easily, and it did feel good. His hands on her, pressing her snugly around him; his hips moving over her torso, dragging his balls across her skin; and his rigid cock loving the softness of her tits all felt amazing. 

“I may be...” Jack started with a particularly deep thrust. “...biased, but...” thrust. “…you have never…” thrust. “…looked,” thrust. “…hotter.”  

Sam smiled easily at his declaration, loving this carnal side of him as much as she loved every other part of him. She didn’t need sonnets and candlelight all the time. She just needed him, and just like she wanted a good, hard fuck sometimes, so did he. And he was taking it with every pump of his hips. His swollen, needy head pushing up between her breasts was beautiful—a moment of completion and wanting all at the same time.

Sam lifted her head, bending down as far as she could, and kissed his tip when it made its next appearance between her breasts. Jack cursed under his breath, when his cock retreated from her lips, a slave to its own rhythm. But she waited, taking him between her lips again, and this time he paused, letting her suck his cockhead and flick the tip of her tongue against his slit. Sam felt him give way just enough under her tongue and he growled in appreciation before he took his cock away from her, disappearing between her tits. 

“You just want everything, don’t you?” he asked, and yeah, maybe she did want everything.  

Sam wanted him to come on her chest and feel the hot streams of his orgasm on her skin. She also wanted to suck him off. Life was full of hard choices.  

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart,” he demanded as he continued to slide between her tits, hugging them tightly with his hands. His tip peeking through was one of those erotic images that she would remember for the rest of her life, but as much as she was unsurprised by how much she was enjoying this, she wanted his flavor blending with hers in her mouth. 

Wordlessly, she tugged at his hips, and his raised brow told her he wasn’t going to stand for her non-verbal cues this morning. 

“Fuck my mouth, Jack,” she directed him in words. 

“Why?” he asked, obviously in a stubborn mood. 

“Need to taste you. Want your cock. I didn’t get enough last night, and...” she paused as he settled his knees above her shoulders. “Want you coming down my throat, Jack.”  

“This throat?” he asked, placing a gentle hand around her throat and squeezing lightly.  

“Yes,” she answered breathlessly, both to his question and to his squeeze. 

“You wanna swallow my cum, Sam?” he asked again, dragging careful fingertips down her throat before he wrapped them around his erection. 

“Yes, Jack. Don’t you want to?” she turned his dirty talk around on him. 

“You know I do,” he answered, bumping his tip against her bottom lip, and her tongue flicked out in response to lick him. His salty need made her mouth water for more.

“You do what?” she insisted, swirling his cockhead with her tongue. 

“Wanna fuck your mouth. So sweet,” he declared with a hand on her cheek and his thumb tracing her top lip. “So fucking hot... and wet,” he added and pushed his tip between her lips and withdrew again. 

“Give it to me, Jack,” she finally begged, reaching for him, and Jack’s fingers slipped into her hair, holding her back. Bracing one hand on the headboard, he finally obeyed, slipping deep into her mouth as she worked over him to pull him in. Sam swallowed against his thick tip at her throat, breathing slowly through her nose, and when she teased his underside with his tongue, curving around his shaft and pulling him toward her throat, Sam saw Jack become a little less Jack and a little more animal. And then he fucked. 

It didn’t take him long to start climbing toward completion, even though she could tell he was holding back, not wanting to hurt her. She was well and truly pinned under him in this position, at the mercy of his restraint, and though she hadn’t been able to practice much lately, she knew she could take all of him. 

It was a good thing because with a guttural cry and a few jerking thrusts, he was knocking at the back of her throat, and salty, hot ecstasy spilled out of him into her mouth. Sam swallowed again and again, moaning and sucking at him greedily for more. She wanted to empty him, leaving only intense satisfaction in his body, and with one final spurt, she was sure she had gotten every drop.  

Sam licked tenderly at his still partially hard cock in her mouth, cleaning him, teasing him, loving him. His breath was labored above her as he watched her with her mouth still full of him, but he didn’t let her have him for long before he pulled away, crawling off of her chest and flipping backwards with his feet up on the wall beside her head. 

Sam teased at the back of his thigh, stroking up and down while he caught his breath, but it couldn’t have been a minute later when he rolled over, nuzzling her legs apart and burying his face in her pussy again. 

“Jack, wait, I can’t...” Sam trailed off, distracted by the feel of his gentle tongue, licking her from clit to cunt. He didn’t seem to have an agenda. He just repeated that long licking stroke a few more times before he reappeared, crawling up her body, and buried that same cunt-soaked tongue in her mouth. 

The flood of her flavor mixed with his fresh orgasm was both satisfying and arousing. He seemed to agree, growling into her mouth, and licking deeply back to her throat where she knew she was still coated in his seed.  

The oral dance was becoming more arousing than satisfying, and Sam’s legs spread of their own accord, one slipping under him to pull him between her legs. She wouldn’t be doing anything about it for a while, but it felt damn good to be this turned on and to also be in the same room with Jack for a change instead of a country away. It felt damn good to be hot and horny and surrounding him with her arms and legs. It felt so damn perfect to be throbbing in need and covered in him from lips to toes with his dick only inches away from filling her need. 

Weakened from his recent orgasm, Sam felt Jack running out of steam, his kiss slowing, and his body leaning more heavily on her until finally, he pulled away, burying his face in her neck. His lips moved aimlessly against her skin, and she tangled her legs through his, not willing to let him pull away. 

“You are the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he confessed to her neck, and Sam stroked her fingers through his hair with a grin.  

“Back atcha,” she returned, borrowing from his slang. 

“Woman. I meant woman,” he clarified, pushing himself up to kiss her lips softly. “You’re not a thing.” 

"I knew what you meant.” 

“Also, just... in general, the best woman I know.” Sam ran a hand down his cheek at the unexpected sentimentality. “Love you.” 

“Love you too, Jack,” she answered. 

“Good, I’m glad we had this talk,” he answered with a grin and a kiss before lying back down with his nose nuzzling her earlobe. Sam let her fingers run through his hair while she debated with herself. He wouldn’t believe it if she said it, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t true. He had demons that still haunted him, and he always would. But that didn’t change the reality.  

“You’re the best man I know too, Jack.” And Sam knew it would take the rest of her life to make him believe it, but it was for a damn good cause.