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When Destiny Calls
Daniel rolled to his side, eased her gently onto her back. Looked down into eyes full of love. The emerald green so deep that he was certain he could dive right in and drown. Not that he'd fight it at all! No, sir, he'd just plunge straight into those green pools and go completely under with a big ol' smile on his face. "My turn," he whispered, just before his tongue moved over the pink shell of her ear. He smiled to himself when he felt her shiver. "I love you, Angel," he whispered.
"I love you, too," she replied softly.
"I want to show you how much I love you," he continued, between the tiny kisses he was planting on her throat. "I want to make you feel so good, Angel, fly so high."
His hand was moving over her now, light touches that left her wanting, needing more. Her body was arching toward his, reaching toward the hand that offered such pleasure.
He let the backs of his fingers skim up the inside of her arm. His fingertips brushed over her collarbones, down the other arm. "You are so beautiful," he whispered, just before he began to kiss her. He kissed her gently at first, then let the passion take over. Allowed himself to push against her with more pressure, sent his tongue as far into her mouth as he could, then tempered the kiss, pulled back, made it gentle once again.
She had one hand on the arm that moved over her; his fingers, his fingertips making her feel as if her body was on fire. The other was against his chest, not pushing, just resting there, the beating of his heart beneath it evidence that he was real. When he began to kiss and nibble her throat, she sighed. He knew exactly what to do, and when to do it, she thought, as her eyes fluttered shut.
Daniel ran his fingertips just above the lace on the little top, could see the reaction in the hardening of her nipples. He kissed each one gently, tenderly through the lace. "So sexy," he whispered, as he slowly untied the narrow little ribbon. He smiled when her body arched toward him again, eagerly waiting his touch, his caress. He lightly brushed the lace aside, took the time to just look at her. So beautiful! Each breast looked as if it had been sculpted from the finest marble, perfect and round and firm; yet so warm and soft. Her creamy skin felt like satin, was so fragrant, partially from the lotion she used. Part of it was her own sweet scent. Her areola's tended to swell and puff out just a bit when she was aroused, the nipples hard and pink, like pencil erasers. "So beautiful," he breathed, before he lowered his head and began to suckle.
Another sigh escaped from her lips as he began to move his hand and mouth back and forth, giving each breast and their aching nipples the attention she wanted, needed. Her hands were in his hair now, holding onto him as he continued to compose that perfect symphony. She opened her eyes when she felt him pull away from her body.
"Roll over, Angel," he whispered. He pushed the straps of the baby doll from her shoulders, down her arms, let it flutter to the floor. When she was lying on her stomach, he moved her long hair out of the way, and began to kiss and lick his way from shoulder to shoulder, nibbled the nape of her neck, relishing the shiver that moved down her body. Licked down the middle of her back, his tongue moving over every vertebra. His hands moved slowly, gently over the firm globes of her ass. He slid his fingers beneath the waistband of the thong, moved it gently away from her body, followed it over her hips, down her legs with his mouth. He moved back up and kissed and licked her back, her sides, and then down to those sexy mounds, biting tenderly, ignoring the sweet, hot, moist flesh between them, just as she'd ignored him when she massaged him.
His mouth and hands moved over the backs of her legs. Back up to her hips. She was trembling, from need, from delight, from anticipation. When he whispered for her to roll over again, his hands helped her to move. She looked up at him, saw such love in his blue eyes that it made her want to cry. "Please don't be a dream," she begged softly.
His heart constricted inside his chest at the sight of tears in her lashes. "I promise, Angel, it's all real. I'm real." He took her hand, placed it over his rapidly beating heart. "That's what you do to me, Casey." He slid her hand down to that hard flesh between his legs. "That's what you do to me," he whispered. He began to kiss her again, his mouth, his lips, his tongue telling her again and again of his love, his devotion. Just as he had the first night they were together, he kissed, and licked and caressed her arms, her hands, her legs, her feet. Making love to her - worshipping her as the goddess that his heart recognized; as the goddess Fate had granted him. When he kissed his way back up her thighs, he couldn't help but grin when she opened to him. His Angel had learned what pleasure was, that he could give it to her, and she liked it! He settled between her legs, opened her folds gently with his fingers, let his tongue dart out and taste the sweetness that was her.
When he pushed his tongue inside her, seeking more of the honey that already flowed, she granted him his wish and came, giving him the chance to drink his fill. His mouth worked over that tender, sensitive flesh, his fingers moving in and out of her. When he began to tease her swollen, aching clit, tiny whimpers of need filled the back of her throat. Her hands were clenched in his hair, her hips moving up and down against his face. He took her to the very edge of the precipice, then moved away, kissing her hips, nuzzling the dark blonde curls at the apex of her thighs. He moved back down, his tongue investigating every fold, and then led her again to the brink, once more refusing to let her touch the climax that glittered just out of reach.
There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her body. Her breath was coming in short gasps. She was trembling so hard that he wrapped his hands around her slender thighs to keep her in place. For the third time he teased that oh-so swollen button, slid his fingers into her warm well and began to stroke. This time when her thighs began to quiver, he increased the tempo of his movements, suckled that hardened nub. That sweet whimper filled the air, built up into a full aria of love. As soon as her well began to pulse around his fingers, he moved up and sheathed his aching shaft in the warmth of her body. He began to thrust hard and deep, grinding his hips against her each time he pushed into her.
She was going to lose her mind! Just when she thought the waves of pleasure were going to taper off, give her a chance to breathe, he rubbed against her, set her off again. He was pounding into her, and suddenly she felt as if her body was going to fly completely apart. The composition came to a mind-blowing crescendo, and her soft scream filled the air around them as the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced shook her from head to toe. Each time he'd done this for her before had been merely the prelude for this amazing moment. Her arms were locked around his shoulders, her legs around his waist as she refused to let him move. Her body was bucking beneath his, pushing her hips up against his as hard as she could. She could only cling to him as she rode out that perfect storm of pleasure.
Her well was convulsing so intensely around him that it sent him over the edge of the cliff as well. He could feel the honey pour from her, soaking them both, as his cock throbbed and pulsed and added to the wetness inside her. He dropped down on top of her, completely spent, but satisfied that he'd rocked her world completely. The thought made him grin into the pillow.
She was still shaking when Daniel rolled them over. His hands moved over her back, the gentle touch almost painful against her highly sensitized skin. She could barely muster the strength to fold her arms over his chest. Her chin dropped down onto them. "Who is trying to kill whom?" she asked softly.
"Did you fly, Angel?" he asked softly, his blue eyes locked with her green ones.
"Past the heavens and the gods," she whispered in reply. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. They'd checked into the room a little before three. It was seven-thirty. She began to giggle.
"What?" he asked.
"If we're going to make love for hours every time, we'll have to start as soon as you get home from work so that you can have a few hours of sleep at night," she said.
He laughed. "Times like these are special, Angel. Making love will always be good for us. I promise. But it won't always take hours. Well, not more than a couple, anyway," he added with a grin. "Let's take a shower and get something to eat."
"Worked up an appetite, did you?" she teased.
"Yeah, I did. You can't tell me that you're not at least a little bit hungry," he replied.
"Yes I can. I can tell you anything," she giggled. "Whether or not you believe it, well, that's different!"
He began to tickle her ribs. "Such smartass you are!"
She tried to tickle him back, they were rolling on the bed, laughing, her squeals of surprise filled the air when he slipped his fingers along her sides and squeezed gently.
The tickles softened to caresses. He dipped his head and kissed her. Felt his body stirring again. "What you do to me, woman," he whispered.
His rising manhood was pressed against her thigh. She pushed gently on him until he was lying on his back. She rose over him, slowly lowered herself onto his engorged shaft. She put her hands on his shoulders, gently moved her hips back and forth against him.
He moaned softly when she began to squeeze and hold him, using muscles deep inside that sweet warm well. He filled his hands with her breasts, massaged them, tugged at her nipples. "How do you do it to me?"
"Do what?" she asked breathlessly.
"Drain me dry and then get me back up a few minutes later." His voice was breathless as well.
"You're the amazing stud muffin, Stud Muffin. I don't do anything but take advantage of what you have for me," she replied. Her green eyes danced. She clamped down on him, held him tightly. Relaxed, clamped down again.
She continued to hold him, squeeze him, sometimes relaxing completely, others times just relaxing a little bit. She added subtle movements of her hips. Every time he throbbed, she could feel it throughout her body. It feels so good!
He had no idea what exactly it was that she was doing, or exactly how she was doing it. All he knew was that it felt incredible. "Take me there, Angel," he whispered, that warm feeling building up in his belly, ready to move into his cock.
Curling her legs beside his hips, she used them for leverage, and moved up and down on him, holding him firmly as her hips moved against his. Then up until he was barely inside her, circling her hips slowly, then down again, squeezing tightly every inch of the way.
"Oh, god!" he moaned. His hands slid from her breasts to her hips, his fingers digging into her as he began to thrust up into her.
She cried out just seconds before he did. She fell onto his chest, breathing hard, their bodies pulsing together. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you," he whispered in reply, hugging her tightly. He kissed the side of her head. It was a five after eight. "We've got to get something to eat. And then we need to get some sleep. We'll have to leave here before six, I have to be on the base by eight," he said.
She sat up. "So where are we going to eat tonight?"
"I dunno. What sounds good?"
"Works for me."
"We could find out if there's anyplace that delivers, it would probably be here by the time we finish our shower," she suggested.
Daniel grabbed the phone book. Found a list of pizza restaurants. Located six that delivered. He called the first one, only to learn that they didn't deliver as far as the airport, which was basically where they were. The second one did. He put his hand over the receiver. "What kind do you like?"
She shrugged. "Whatever you want is fine."
"Casey, what do you like on your pizza?" His voice was kind, full of love, but firm.
"Sausage, green peppers and mushrooms."
"Black olives, too?"
"Works for me," she smiled.
Daniel placed the order, making sure that drinks were included, then gave the name of the hotel and the room number. He grinned when he hung up. "We have forty minutes. Think we can be done in the shower in forty minutes?"
"We can always try," she giggled.
Daniel watched her move away from the bed. She was moving slowly. "You're hurt. Or at least sore."
She turned around to look at him. The look of distress on his face, in his eyes, made her wince. "I'm fine."
He crawled off of the bed, walked to stand in front of her, put his hands on her shoulders. "Why didn't you stop me?"
Casey blushed, looked down at the floor. "I…well…it felt so good…and…it didn’t hurt at all…"
He pulled her into his embrace, kissed the side of her face. "You're amazing, Angel. Come on. Let's get hot cloths on you." Just like the first night, he took the washcloths, got them as hot as he could stand them, then pressed them against her, held them tightly, letting the warmth and the moisture ease the soreness. "I'll tell you what…I'll take a quick shower, then you can soak in the tub for a bit."
She nodded. She continued to rinse the cloths and hold them against her body while he showered. There was no blood, but she was sore. She grinned. As well she should be! Daniel was not a small man! He wasn't even 'average'. No, her Stud Muffin was hung like a stallion, and her virgin, or almost virgin body, was still adjusting to having him inside. At least I'm able to take him all the way, she thought happily.
Her mind began to wander a bit as she rinsed the washcloth, questions about the man she loved surfacing. "Daniel?"
"What does the 'M' stand for?"
"The 'M'. Your middle initial." More hot water, wring the cloth a bit, press it against her tender flesh. The heat felt wonderful!
"Melburn. After my dad, Melburn Jackson. My mother was Claire Ballard Jackson."
That name sounded familiar. She frowned, searched her memory. "Was she any relation to Nicholas Ballard?"
"He's my grandfather, why?"
"I did a report on him for one of my anthropology classes. We were studying some of the offbeat theories that have been made concerning several ancient civilizations. I was arguing that without definitive proof that they were wrong, it wasn't right to call them 'offbeat', or even criticize them."
He grinned as he rinsed his hair. Was fairly certain his own theory was one being taught as 'off-beat'. Or wrong. "You're a very open minded woman. What did your professor say?"
"That I was probably going to wind up believing all the wrong things because of so-called lack of evidence. I argued that he couldn't prove they were the 'wrong things'. I got a 'D' in his class," she said.
"He dropped your grade because you stood up to him?"
She giggled. "He dropped my grade because after that argument, his was one of the classes that I let slide because of all the hours I worked. He ticked me off with his narrow mindedness."
Daniel grinned. He was learning that her response was typical Casey. He shut off the water, opened the shower curtain, accepted the towel she handed him with a wink. "So, what's your middle name?"
"Casey Renee. That's nice. Any idea why they called you Casey?"
"Because for the first six months or so, at least this is what I've been told, I didn't have a name. I was case number 7932375. The 3-23-75 is my birthday. I have no idea what the 7-9 represents. Anyway, one of the Sisters who worked in the nursery refused to just call me a number. So, she called me her little case. Which somehow morphed into Casey. The Renee was that Sister's middle name."
He stood there, rubbing the towel over his body, thinking that even though his parents had died when he was eight years old, he'd known them, had been given his father's name. That he had some sense of where he came from, some sense of belonging. He filed away the tidbit of information that she'd given him without realizing it: her birthday. March 23rd, 1975. He'd been not quite five years old when she was born.
"So, when is your birthday?"
He grinned. Okay, maybe she did realize what she'd told him. "July 8th, 1970. Okay, honey, get in and soak for a little bit." He flipped the lever that closed the drain, then began to fill the tub with water.
She stepped into the tub, settled into the water. Oh yeah! Just what she needed! "So, is your grandfather still working?"
Daniel glanced over at her. "Yeah," he said softly. "He is." Living with the Giant Aliens who haunted him for twenty years.
She looked up at him, cocked her head to one side. "He was right, too, wasn't he? That skull he found was a…link…a key…to another place wasn't it?"
He smiled. Had she picked up his thoughts? "Yeah, he was right."
"Your theory was right as well. And then you deciphered the key to the Stargate." She frowned slightly. "It must be amazing, going to the places you do, seeing the things that you see."
He wrapped the towel around his waist, sat down on the closed toilet seat. "It is," he replied softly. "Case, General Hammond is interested in your…abilities. He'd like for you to work at the SGC."
"We'll see," she murmured.
Her reaction caught him off guard. He'd assumed that she'd be excited about working there, working with him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she replied. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up. Daniel, I'm nothing special. And my…gift…I can't control it. I just see whatever I see, when and if I see it."
He bit back the curse that was on his lips, tamped down the anger that raged against the people who had raised her. People who should have loved her, protected her. Who instead had hurt her - damaged her heart, her soul; left her self-worth in shreds. He knelt down beside the bathtub, took her chin in his hand, turned her face towards him. "You are the most special person I've ever met. The single most special person in my life. I don't think the general is going to expect you to walk in and start telling us exactly what's going to happen in the future." Her lips were trembling, tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Angel, don't cry, I didn't mean to make you cry!" he said softly.
"I love you so much! You see me so differently than anyone else…I just…" She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. "I've never felt this way before."
"What way?" He couldn't resist pressing his face against that soft hand.
That simple reply nearly undid him. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, then leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. "I love you Casey Renee Webster. More than I'll ever be able to put into words."
She smiled. "You'd better go pull some pants on. The pizza should be here soon."
He kissed her briefly, then stood up. "Take your time. Relax as long as you need to…or want to," he said softly. "Door open or closed?"
"Open, please," she replied. It might be a bit…drafty, but she'd be able to catch glimpses of him as he moved around the room, hear him as he did whatever he would be doing.
He smiled, then walked into the bedroom. Stopped and ran both hands over his face. He'd never expected to love her this much. Certainly not this quickly. But he did. The fact that she had been so battered mentally and emotionally tied his stomach into knots, made his heart ache; made his temper boil. He vowed silently to himself, and to her, that he was going to make up for all of those hurts, and help her see what a beautiful, unique, incredible person she was.
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