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As the meeting ended and everyone rose to start filing out in ones and twos, chatting together, Sam caught Colonel Sheppard’s eye across the table. 

An almost imperceptible shake of her head, and John got the message, eyebrows rising slightly and the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Sam took her time leaving the conference room, and John did the same, falling into step beside her as she headed down the gateroom stairs and then out towards the living quarters. 

“There something you need me for, Colonel?” John finally asked casually as they walked down an empty corridor. 

“There is, if you’ve got a minute,” Sam answered, just as casually. “Off-duty.” 

She glanced over and let a hint of a smile touch her lips at the sight of John watching her intently, bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Yeah, I’ve got some time,” he said. “I was actually just gonna swing by my room real quick, if you wanna…?” He was still going for casual, unaffected; but a familiar throaty note of anticipation was already starting to creep into his tone. 

Good. Sam’s smile widened and another quiet throb of heat pulsed between her legs. Time for a little payback. 

They lapsed back into silence and reached John’s door a few twists and turns later. Sam followed him in and turned in the middle of the room to see him lock the door and look up expectantly. 

“So…” he started; then paused, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and licked his lips. Again. 

So, tell me, John,” Sam said conversationally, stalking across the room to shove him back against the wall. “Do you do it on purpose, or do you really just have no idea how distracting it is, trying to run an entire meeting like that?” 

“Like what?” John asked innocently. Too innocently. 

He knew exactly what he’d been doing. 

“With someone across the table constantly biting his lip. Touching his mouth. Licking his water bottle, his lips, even his fingers,” Sam growled, sliding a hand up John’s chest to squeeze his neck under his jaw, just slightly. “Shooting me little looks while he does. As though I wouldn’t notice.” 

She felt John’s throat move as he swallowed again, the rise and fall of his chest hitching and then speeding up. “Sounds like a disciplinary issue to me.” 

“It does, doesn’t it,” Sam agreed; then leaned in to cover John’s mouth with hers. 

He swayed forward into it immediately, lips parting and tongue flickering out to meet hers with a soft moan that was barely more than a huff of breath. Sam pulled back, tightening her hold on his throat in warning. 

“Oh, no. Today you’ll have to earn it after that little stunt,” she said curtly, catching John’s bottom lip briefly between her teeth, hard enough to make him hiss a sharp breath in through his teeth. “Bed. Now.” 

John’s eyes flashed with heated interest as Sam stepped back, eyeing him up and down. He headed straight for the narrow bed as ordered, letting his open jacket slide unceremoniously off his shoulders on the way and reaching down for the hem of his shirt. 

“No,” Sam said, before he could strip it off over his head. “You’ll leave the rest on. Lie down and wait for me.” 

John paused, shrugged, and then sprawled down on his bed with one of those insolent, lazy little smirks he did too well. “Yes, sir.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, another sharp twist of heat curling through her belly— and then pointedly turned away, ignoring John completely. She left him there to wait, taking her time to use the little adjoined bathroom, wash up, and dig out the two innocuous-looking velcroed straps she knew John kept hidden in the bottom drawer of the little storage unit. 

When she re-entered the main room, John was exactly where she’d left him: ankles crossed, elbows out and his hands behind his head, his boots still on and even his thigh holster still in place. His black t-shirt had ridden up, baring a narrow strip of his hips and stomach, and his BDUs were still slightly but noticeably tented over his crotch. Without a word, Sam pulled John’s arm out and secured his wrist to the leg of the bed. She repeated the procedure on the other side, carefully leaving it all just slack enough that John could bend his elbows up comfortably, and even work his hands free if necessary— but tight enough that he could still tug at them hard the way he liked. 

And then she stood by the bed and watched him while slowly, methodically, stripping out of her own clothes. John watched her right back while she did, his tongue running over his bottom lip, his lust-darkened eyes wandering up and down. By the time Sam finished undressing, John’s hips were shifting restlessly, his hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly into loose fists as he pulled almost absentmindedly at his restraints. 

And those combat pants had gotten a lot tighter. 

Sam climbed on top of him and straddled his hips, watching John’s arms tense and the straps go taut as she fisted one hand in his messy dark hair to tug his head back. Leaning down, she ghosted a kiss over John’s lips, licking into his mouth and letting the slick heat of his tongue meet hers for a brief moment before pulling back just out of reach. 

“Since you can’t seem to stop putting things in your mouth,” Sam said sweetly, “I think we’d better give you something else to do with it for awhile.” 

John groaned, breathing hard as Sam shifted up the bed to straddle his face instead, knees spread wide above his shoulders. He was already opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue before she was even in position, head lifting off the pillow to meet her. A huffed breath escaped Sam’s lips at the first wet flick of that tongue; and it turned into a full-throated groan as she settled down and the warmth of John’s mouth covered her, already licking and suckling with a quiet hum. 

Braced against the wall in front of her with one hand, running the fingers of the other through John’s hair and occasionally directing him with tugs one way or another, Sam let John work her higher; listening to the soft, wet sounds of his mouth and feeling the vibrations of his contented hums and moans between her legs. He really was ridiculously talented with that tongue of his; swirling and flicking and lapping, tracing along the sensitive folds of flesh and dipping hot and slick inside her, making her ache with need long before he’d even moved up to do more than just occasionally tease at her swollen clit. 

Talented or no, Sam made him work for it anyway. She didn’t bother trying to chase her orgasm, letting her hips rock lazily to fuck his mouth while the heat in her core slowly twisted tighter and hotter. John kept trying to bring his hands in, only to make little frustrated whines against her when he was pulled up short by the straps at his wrists. And he was all but squirming on the bed under her, too, breath coming in hot pants against Sam’s skin. She could feel John’s mouth and chin getting wetter and wetter as she drew closer to the brink, barely noticing the panting gasps spilling from her lips as her whole body tightened—  

That throbbing heat burst outwards in a rush and Sam came with a raw cry, her hips bucking jerkily and her thighs shaking. She felt more than heard John’s moans as he worked her through it, wet and sloppy and needy; trembling on the bed and eagerly licking up into her while she rode out the rippling waves of climax, gasping for breath and grinding down hard onto John’s face. 

John slowed, gradually, the hot pressure of his tongue lessening as Sam shuddered her way through to the end of her orgasm and out the other side; until he until he was just lapping gently at her, nuzzling between her quivering legs with little panting whines of need. 

Breathing hard, her legs like jelly, Sam smiled and stroked a hand through John’s sweaty hair with a contented, humming sigh; then carefully climbed back to her feet. As she stood and stretched luxuriantly, John made a little choked sound beside her. Wriggling on the bed and tugging at the straps again, he gazed up at Sam with a pleading look, hazel eyes blown wide and dark with need. 

“Well done,” Sam said, still smiling as she traced over his cheek and mouth and stubble-rough chin, all slick and glistening and soaking wet. She slid her thumb between John’s swollen, reddened lips to let him suck it clean. And then she turned away and started briskly pulling her clothes on again. 

Behind her, John groaned, whimpering wordlessly. Sam ignored him, listening with a smirk to the sounds of him panting and shifting on the bed. Once she’d finished dressing, she went and sat on the edge of the mattress next to him, cocking her head innocently at another almost pained whimper that spilled from John’s lips. 

“I’m sorry, John, did you need something?” 

“Damn it,” John said, breathy and desperate; squirming in place and pulling again at the straps binding his wrists. Sam could see the wet spot he’d leaked clear through his pants, the outline of his erection easily visible through the straining material. “I… yes, fuck— I need to… I need to come, Sam, please,” he blurted, flustered, flushing beet-red from the hollow of his throat to his hairline; the way he always did when she made him beg for it. 

Pretending to think, Sam gave him a considering look and tsk-ed, idly playing her fingers over the stiffened shape of his cock. “I’m not sure that counts as punishment. Wasn’t this a disciplinary issue?” 

John’s breath hitched in almost a sob, his booted heels dragging up the bed and his hips jerking as Sam gave his cockhead a light squeeze through his BDUs. 

“Please,” he moaned again as Sam kept toying with him lightly. He was panting hard, his hands clenched into fists and the straps holding his wrists pulled so taut that Sam wondered distantly if the heavy-duty velcro was going to hold much longer. “Hnn— Sam, please—” 

Relenting, Sam gripped him hard through his pants, pulling a shaky groan of mingled relief and need from his throat. She let go again to make quick work of his belts, deftly popping open his button one-handed and unzipping his fly to pull him out. He looked— and felt— achingly hard, cock hot and stiff and flushed an angry dark red, the tip wet and glistening. 

Sam gave him a single, slow stroke, making him tremble and whimper when she let go again to bring her hand up to his mouth. With another groan high in his throat, John swiped his tongue over her palm, hot and wet, and then Sam finally took him in hand properly, working up and down his straining cock and slicking him up with his own saliva and precome. 

John’s hips bucked up again and Sam grinned, running her tongue over her teeth and drinking in the sight John made, flushed and needy and utterly disheveled. “Since you were so good… Go on, then.” 

Panting, staring down at himself through heavy-lidded eyes, John didn’t hesitate before he started thrusting, quick and choppy; fucking up desperately into Sam’s tight, spit-slick grip. Sam let him go as fast and hard as he wanted, watching him build himself rapidly higher, hips pumping, mouth open and chest heaving. It took no time at all before his face was screwing up in concentration, the gasps spilling from his parted lips growing increasingly frantic as he got closer and closer and— 

John’s thrusts stuttered, going jerky and uncoordinated as he went rigid with an explosive, strangled grunt. Sam took over, pumping him in quick, steady strokes, watching John gasp and twitch and spurt out in messy bursts up his own stomach and chest. What small amount of come didn’t leave long, glistening streaks trailing up the front of his black t-shirt, instead dripped down over Sam’s fingers and pooled hot and sticky in the coarse, dark hair on his lower belly, just above the base of his twitching cock. 

She slowed and then stopped as John finished coming, slumping back on the mattress and trembling against her, still flushed and breathing hard. Sam leaned down to kiss him with a pleased hum at her own taste on his lips and tongue, gently rubbing her thumb over the slippery tip of his spent cock for a moment longer before finally releasing him. 

Wiping her hand off on John’s hip, smearing his own come over his skin, Sam smirked against John’s mouth at the sound of his breathless, shaky groan; muffled a second later as she slipped her tongue back into John’s mouth once more. 

“So what was it you needed from your room?” Sam asked innocently, when she finally broke away several very pleasant minutes later to carefully unstrap John’s wrists from the bed. 

John snorted a laugh and grinned sheepishly up at her, circling out his hands as Sam stroked her clean fingers through his bed-rumpled hair. “I have no idea. But I’m gonna have to change my damn shirt now.” He groaned. “And maybe take a shower.” 

“Mm. No,” Sam said, tugging John’s come-stained t-shirt back down into place over his hips before getting up. “You can keep this one on for the rest of the afternoon.” 

“Uh. What? But it’s all…” Dawning realization crossed John’s face as he sat up, and his breath hitched audibly, his eyes widening and a fresh blush rising in his neck and face. “Oh.” 

Grabbing John’s discarded jacket off the floor, Sam handed it to him before straightening her own with a brisk tug. 

“Better put that back on. And, John?” 

“Hm?” He looked up from doing up his belt and fly, eyebrows raised in question and a light flush still in his cheeks. 

Sam smiled at him. “Try not to get too distracted by it during the debrief with Major Lorne’s team at three.”