Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and
Double Secret Productions.  This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no
infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended.  Previously unrecognized characters and places, and
this story, are copyrighted to the author.  Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is coincidental and not
intended by the author.

Summary: Samantha Carter has been abducted while on an off-world mission.  Lantash recovers her and now
she belongs to him.  In fact, she is now his slave.

Pairing:  Sam/Lantash/Martouf

Rating:  NC-17 graphic sexual situations and some mild violence.















Lantash looked the woman standing in front of him up and down, as he circled her.  He
reached out and took her face in his hand.  She jerked away and glared at him.  He
reached out and ran his hand from her throat, to her breasts, to her hip, and then to the
apex of her thighs.  She was bound and could not retaliate.  Nor did she dare say
anything, unless she wanted beaten again.  He walked behind her yet again, examining,
checking out her entire form.  He should demand to have her unclothed, but he could not
bring himself to do it.

Turning to the two men, one of whom was holding the leash that held the woman, he
inquired, “Where did you find this one?  She has spirit.  Perhaps, too much.  I do not wish
to have to tame my slaves.”

When no answer was immediately forthcoming, he looked at them, and his glare was
fierce, predatory, “Well?  I am waiting.”

“We acquired her on Ceralon, my Lord.  She was not cheap; they held her in great regard.  
She cost us much.”

“Meaning she is stolen property; you lost some men while stealing her, and someone is
looking for her.  She had defenders, did she not?”

Glancing uneasily at one another, the one who appeared to be the leader stammered,
“Well, she was not mated to any of them, they said so.  She was unattached and fair game
to us, my Lord.  They do not know where she has been taken, and they have no way of
finding out.  No one will come for her.”

Lantash sneered at them, “Yes, this is not the first time you have said these words to me,
yet brought me goods that belong to someone else.  If I find this is true in this instance,
you will regret you ever became a procurer for me.  Perhaps, I should simply make you
sorry now, instead of waiting to be proved correct yet again.”  He smiled evilly, as he
raised his hand with the ribbon device and pointed it at them.  “Tell me, Mauritius, why
should I allow you to live and continue to try to deceive me?  Is there a reason?  I do not
believe so.”  Sending a low blast he threw them into the wall, which caused the leash to
tighten and pull the woman to the ground.  

She whimpered as she landed and skidded on the hard, rough floor, unable to protect
herself.  She remained limp as Lantash strode to the two men.  Using the device, he aimed
it at the leaders head and began the process of killing him.  Hearing the woman moan, he
released the man and looked down at him as he lay panting, “Well?  Have you nothing to
say for yourself?”

“We will give her to you as a gift, my Lord.  Please, no more,” he cried, as Lantash again
raised the ribbon.

He stared at him coldly for a moment, and then lowered the device.  “A gift,” he appeared
to consider the proposal, but looking at the woman on the ground, he shook his head
slightly.  “Why should I want your problems?”

“Please, my Lord, we assure you, there is no one who will find her,” Mauritius promised,
as he cringed away from the Goa’uld towering over him.  “She is quite beautiful of face
and form.  The gold of her hair is most unusual.”

“Yes,” Lantash said slowly, as he walked back and looked down at her, “Most unusual.”  
Pretending not to notice as the leader dropped the leash and started creeping toward the
door, he let them get almost to the doorway before suddenly turning on them, his ribbon
held pointed at them, a feral smile on his lips.

“I will take your offer, Mauritius,” he said, voice softly silky and his captives shivered, as
they realized he was at his most dangerous at this moment.  “But, should anyone come
looking for her, you will not be safe…anywhere, and I will suddenly remember that I was
aware of your, shall we say, other lines of work?  I am quite sure you understand me, do
you not?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the terrified man, gasped.

“One other thing, Mauritius.”

“Yes, my Lord?” he quavered.

“If I ever see you on my world again, I will remember everything I ever knew about
you…and your life will be forfeit.  I suggest you make haste.”

“Yes, my Lord, at once.”  The two men left so fast that, if Lantash had not been so
concerned about Samantha lying at his feet, he would have laughed at them.  As it was,
he had to try to calm any fears she might have that he was other than she had always
known.  But, he couldn’t do that in public view.  He hated dragging her through the
streets dressed like that, but there was nothing he could do.  He could not appear to favor
her in any way.  She was a slave as of this moment, and it would have to be played that
way.  He just hoped she would eventually forgive them.

“Jaffa, kree!”  He called to his waiting Jaffa, and as they entered, he dragged her
unceremoniously to her feet, jerking her to face them.  “This woman is now mine.  You will
protect my property with your life, for I have not yet tasted of it.  Should
anything happen
to it, to make my first taste …tainted…” he allowed his statement to stop.  “I wish the
woman bathed, scented, and readied for my return.  She will need to be restrained,
though, and guards will be outside as she is taken care of.  Once readied, bind her to my
bed,” his remarks were coldly calculated and gave the impression he intended.  No one
would harm Samantha, and she would not escape before he returned.

“Yes, my Lord.  At once.”  Turning to Sam, he jerked on the leash Lantash had given him
to start her walking.  As she stumbled forward, she heard him say, “Kree, woman, you
heard your God.  Come.”

Sam didn’t answer or look at him or Lantash.  She kept her eyes firmly on the ground in
front of her.  She was exhausted and if she fell, she wouldn’t put it past them to simply
drag her the rest of the way.  She hoped this was an assignment of Martouf and Lantash’s,
and not a permanent change in their allegiance.  She was fairly sure it was, since he had
carefully treated her as if he had never seen her before.  She had avoided recognizing
him, too.  She had felt relief at first, but now she was having second thoughts.  

There had been no gentleness in Lantash’s hands.  And, he had known she would fall
when he threw the men into the wall.  Hopefully, it was all a carefully constructed scene
for everyone’s benefit.  But, it bothered her that he had given instructions to have her
bound.  She wouldn’t have tried to leave.  Surely, he knew that.  Unless he really wasn’t
the Lantash and Martouf, she had known up till now.  Sam shivered in the warmth of the
sun and felt fear rise before common sense came to her aid.  

If he wasn’t her Martouf and Lantash, he would have killed her at once, wouldn’t he?  He
knew very well she was part of SG1 and a Tau’ri.  Of course, he would.  She would be
fine.  She stumbled again and brought her thoughts back to walking.  They entered his
stronghold, a castle like structure, and she was halted as the Jaffa held a discussion.

Grabbing her by the arm, they propelled her forward to a ring transporter that took her
up to the upper floor of the building.  They took her down the hall and stopped before a
large wooden door.  Opening it, they pulled her inside and gave what sounded like
instructions to the two women standing there.  It also sounded, as if there was a warning
in their voices.  Well, whatever, she just wanted to be clean and maybe sleep for a week or
two.

The two women nodded and looked at her curiously before turning to a wardrobe and
beginning to pull out clothes that were rather less than more.  Sam sighed.  Good thing
she was getting used to being half naked.

She looked down as the Jaffa untied her.  One of the women approached her and she
went willingly with them.  If nothing else she’d at least get a bath out of this, and at this
point, that was something she desired as much as she wanted food and sleep.  She wasn’t
even sure what order she’d like to have them in, didn’t even care really, as long as she got
all three fairly soon.  They stopped beside a huge sunken pool.  The women indicated she
should undress and once she had dropped her clothing on the floor and stepped into the
pool, they took the clothes she had worn, what there was of them, and removed them from
the room.  

She sank into the blissfully warm scented water and was surprised to shortly feel hands
on her.  She sat up quickly, opening her eyes and realized that the women were back and
were bathing her.  The scrapes and cuts stung badly, her muscles ached and her bruises
were livid, but she was finally getting clean.  Realizing they weren’t going to leave her to
fall asleep, she sighed and sat up, intending to take the cloth and wash, but they
continued to minister to her.  She finally gave up trying to get them to understand and left
them to what must be their job.

As they finished cleaning her, they allowed her to lean back against the edge to the pool.  
She wished her eyes wouldn’t keep slamming shut.  The smell of food brought her once
more to consciousness.  Pushing the edges of sleep away, she took the food offered to her.  
So, the second of her three wishes had been gratified.  She wondered if she would get the
third wish.  Sleep.  It sounded so very enticing.  The women were urging her out of the
water, so she dragged herself up and out of the pool, standing quietly as she was dried,
perfumed in a most embarrassing and unfortunately, erotic and stimulating way, and
finally dressed in a silken gown of deep blue silk.   

If, that is, you could actually call this a gown.  Made of bands of fabric that barely covered
her nipples, leaving her mid-drift bare as well as her arms, shoulders, and the majority of
her breasts.  The bottom half rode so low on her hips, and vee’d so deeply, she wondered
how it was going to stay there, until they attached the strips from the skimpy top to it.  

She realized that the scented oil was also having other affects on her body.  Great, just
what she needed, some type of alien aphrodisiac that would probably keep her awake,
when all she wanted to do was sleep.  Sighing, she followed the two women into the next
room, but stopped at the sight of the Jaffa standing by the bed.

The women took her into the equivalent of a bathroom, then washed and perfumed
certain body parts again.  Protesting was pointless, so she didn’t bother to try.  They
wouldn’t have understood her anyway, and the truth was, that she wanted to see Lantash
again.  

In fact, she was anxious to see him, to see if it was her Martouf and Lantash.  Surely, her
dad would have told her if something had happened to them, wouldn’t he?  She shook her
head.  Realizing that the women had finished and were urging her forward, she went with
them.  

They indicated the bed, so she went to it.  It looked inviting anyway.  The Jaffa still stood
there, shackles in his hands.  She wondered fleetingly if she should try to fight, if for no
other reason than to make it look as if she wasn’t happy about what had happened, but
she was really too tired to bother.  She didn’t argue or complain, she simply climbed onto
the bed and curled up on her side.  She didn’t even flinch when the shackles were
attached to her and then to the iron rings embedded in the posts of the huge ornate bed.  
She was asleep almost before they even finished.




Lantash strode briskly into the room.  Seeing Samantha sound asleep, he turned and
ordered a meal, giving orders for it to be served as soon as he finished bathing.  Taking
himself off, he made quick work of it, and ate just as swiftly.  He would get rid of the Jaffa
and slave women, and then he could talk to his Samantha.

"If she will even speak to us, Lantash.  You were very rough on her," Martouf chided.

"Better that I be a little rough on her for a few minutes, than that we be discovered through
inappropriate behavior, and we all three end up dead or worse,"
Lantash replied.  

Martouf sighed as he acknowledged the truth of his statement.  Dear universe, they had
been almost out of their minds for two weeks now, ever since Jacob had contacted them to
inform them that Samantha had been taken, and that there were no clues as to where she
was.  

Lantash had been fairly certain he recognized the description of the men that SG1 had
tangled with, and he had known that if it was as he suspected, they would turn up here
sooner or later with their newest prize.

Thank the universe, he had been correct.  Slavers were predictable.  All it had taken was
putting out word that he was looking for a new toy and wanted something different,
unusual.  He had known that if they had her, she would turn up here.  Today, his
patience had been rewarded.  

"She is very tired, Martouf.  I am going to get rid of the Jaffa, and then we will sit with her
until she awakens, and we can explain what is happening."

"Yes, a very good idea, Lantash.  No doubt she is very upset over our treatment of her."

"She did not act as if she recognized us, Martouf.  Samantha was aware that we could not
acknowledge her.  And you heard the Jaffa.  She did not attempt at any time to escape or
even argue with them.  She was either so exhausted she simply could not care, or in her
heart she knows what is happening."

"Well whatever the truth is, we need to get this next part over.  I find certain actions when
we are doing these missions distressing, as you know."

"I know, dear one, and I am sorry, but there would be no infiltration, if I did not act
Goa'uld.  You are well aware of that"

"Yes.  I am aware of that.  So let us get it over and done."

Having dressed in skin-tight breeches and a white lawn shirt, so fine it was transparent,
he slipped his ribbon on and picked up the whip he always carried.  He could feel the
revulsion in Martouf, but it had been a handy thing to have on more than one occasion.  
He was very talented with it, and oddly enough, although he had never used it on a Jaffa
or a slave, they all feared it and him, because of what they had seen him do with it.  And
the other things they believed he did with it.  Misconceptions he consciously fed, for they
were very helpful assumptions.

Walking into the bedroom, he looked at Samantha lying shackled to his bed, sound
asleep.  Dressed in almost nothing, just seeing her in his bed, in that way, quickened his
breath and tightened his body.  Damn these doeskin pants.  They were soft and
comfortable, but they clung to the figure and hid nothing of his body’s reaction.  Ah well,
another clue for the Jaffa to see, so they would be sure to stay away.  He walked swiftly to
the edge of the bed and looked down on the woman, careful not to let any emotion but
coldness surface on his features.  

Caressing the whip, he said to the Jaffa.  “I wish to be left alone and undisturbed for the
remainder of the night, unless there is some very major emergency.  You will remove
everyone from this floor, and make sure the sarcophagus is ready in case it is needed
for…any reason.”  He allowed a small cruel smile to curl his lips, as he continued to caress
the whip still in his hands.  Then he looked directly at the Jaffa and raised his eyebrows,
as if asking why he was still there.  

“Yes, my Lord.  We will remove to the lower floors immediately.”

Lantash turned away, as if losing interest in the Jaffa, but he knew exactly when he left
the room, and he knew from the sudden tenseness in Samantha that she was awake and
aware of him, but was pretending sleep.  He stood by the bed and threw the whip onto a
nearby table.  He saw the slight relaxing of her body.  So, she was not completely sure of
what he really was.  He really could not blame her.  He was a very good actor, he knew.

"Yes, you are.  Sometimes you even convince me that you are Goa’uld and not Tok’Ra."

"Why thank you, Martouf.  I will take that as a compliment on my skill rather than the insult
I believe you meant it to be."

Martouf snorted, then became quiet, as he realized that he and Lantash were looking
down into blue eyes that were staring at them with some trepidation.

“Are they gone?”  Samantha asked, very softly, barely whispering.

“Yes.  You do not have to whisper.  They never stay around when I have a woman here.  
They do not wish to hear her screaming as I flay her alive,” Lantash said bluntly, watching
closely for her reaction.  For a moment, she looked startled and a little apprehensive, but
it cleared almost immediately and she smiled slightly.

“You must be a very good actor if you can get them to believe that.”

“You do not believe I am capable of such actions, Samantha?”  Lantash asked, curiosity in
his voice.

“Yes, actually I do believe you could do it.  However, I don’t believe that is what you do
here.  Do they not think it odd that there is never blood?”

“No.  They know that when I tire of you, you will simply disappear, along with anything
else tainted with your blood.  I am fastidious, you know.  Their belief in these things is a
great convenience to me, so I must ask you to act accordingly, if any of them come near
you.  I doubt any do though.”  

“Unfortunately, I cannot allow them to see you in any position as other than a slave.  I am
sorry, Samantha.  I will try to keep them away from you, but there are certain things they
will insist on.  One of them will be showing up shortly.  I’m afraid that although I can
convince the Jaffa that I do not want anyone here, the women are not as easily convinced,
at least until after they have prepared you.”  

“Objecting to what they are going to do would be out of character for a system lord, so I
hope you will forgive me.  Had I been able to come earlier, they would not come back
again.  However, there were things that had to be attended to.  I hear them coming,” he
said, as he stepped away from the bed and once again picked up the whip.  He frowned at
them, but they ignored him, going straight to Sam.

Samantha’s eyes grew larger as she realized they were going to remove what little clothing
she had on.  Reflex had her fighting them and they were surprisingly strong.  Before she
could stop them, she was spread on the bed with her ankles tied.  Sobbing now, as she
realized she could not stop them, she barely stopped herself from calling out to Lantash.  
To do so would give them away, she was sure, so she clamped her lips tightly and closed
her eyes.  

Feeling fingers begin to pleasure her, she snapped her eyes open, expecting to see
Lantash, and gasped when she recognized the young slave girl from earlier.  As her lips
opened to cry out against what was happening, a hand came over her mouth and she
looked up into an older woman’s eyes.  She shook her head briefly and slid her eyes
toward Lantash.

Samantha looked over at him and her breathing was suspended.  The look on his face was
breathtaking.  He seemed mesmerized by what was happening on the bed.  The young
slave girl was kneeling beside her on the far side of the bed, massaging scented oil into
her skin.  Tied as she was, she was open to Lantash’s view and he seemed to be totally
enthralled by the vision.  

Suddenly, Samantha’s breathing quickened.  He was looking at her as if he would never
get enough.  The whip was clasped tightly in a white knuckled grip, as if he was
controlling himself with difficulty.  The girl worked her way back up Sam’s legs, rubbing
the oil in, covering every inch of her body.  She paid careful attention to the apex of her
thighs and Sam found herself moaning, her hips beginning to move, only to have the girl
suddenly stop and untie one of her legs and flip her over to begin again at her feet and
work her way once more up her body to her neck and arms.  

When she was satisfied that every inch of Sam was covered with the oil, they rolled her
back over and retied her.  And she started the torturous journey from feet to neck and
arms again.  And again, she stopped to pleasure her until Sam began to move with the
rhythm of her fingers only to stop and move on.  From her center to her waist and breasts,
paying close attention to her nipples and rubbing the oil into her repeatedly, she then
continued to her arms and throat.  

Glancing at Lantash, as he stood tense and unmoving, the girl leaned over and blew
gently on Sam’s womanhood, as she once again began pleasuring her with her fingers.  
Sam moaned and bucked, almost sobbing in her need.  The oil was warming, heating her
skin, and Sam realized that whatever was in this one was different than the earlier one.  
It had been a mild aphrodisiac.  This one was much stronger.  The affect of it was
beginning to cloud her mind.  She was becoming a body in need, and that was all she
could seem to focus on.  She needed, wanted, desperately.  Why was Lantash not coming
to her?  Why would the girl not finish that which she started?

Then she heard Lantash’s voice, harsh and commanding.  The fingers left her and she
sobbed her distress.  Moving as much as she could in her bonds, she tossed her head
restlessly.  Lantash was standing next to the bed now, watching her, not moving.  She
realized he was listening.  Satisfied they had indeed left, he strode to the door and shut it,
then returned to the bed, stripping off his shirt on the way.  He then removed his boots
and began on his breeches when he stopped and said hoarsely, “Dear universe,
Samantha, do not look at me in that way, with such burning need in your eyes, or I will
take you here and now.”

“Yes.  Yes, now, Lantash.”

He shook his head.  “I will get the unlocking device for your wrists and then...”

Sam laughed almost hysterically, “Not now, Lantash.  That can wait.  I can’t.  I want you,
need you, now!”  Her statement ended on a sob, and neither Martouf nor Lantash were
proof against it.  

Groaning, Lantash unlaced his breeches enough to free their manhood and settled
himself between her legs.  He plunged a finger within her, testing her readiness,
unsurprised to find her completely wet and open, he added another finger, as his lips
came down to take hers in a heated kiss.  Restricted, as her movement was, she was
forced to simply be and feel.  She could only reciprocate in a very limited manner.  And, it
was driving her wild with longing and desire.

“Please, please, Lantash.  Please, I need you, so.  Come to me.  Come in me,” she begged
shamelessly.  His mouth left the nipple he had been teasing, nipping, loving and moved
down her body until he came to the heat of her center.  Flicking his tongue out he tasted
her and shuddered at the pleasure that coursed through him.  Martouf was begging him
to give them release as well.  

But, Lantash released neither him nor Samantha.  He continued to lap at the honey her
body was releasing for him until he felt her begin to tense for her climax.  As he withdrew
his tongue from her, he heard her sobbing his name and further releasing his manhood,
he plunged into her fiercely, thrusting deeply, until he could go no deeper.  She bucked
with him striving to find the trigger that would release her from this exquisite tension.  

As Lantash plunged ever faster into her heated wetness, he felt the tension in him
reaching its peak, and he was vaguely aware of the answering tension coiling tighter in
her.  As her muscles clenched him tightly, he cried her name ramming his shaft home
and feeling not only his own throbbing, as he emptied his seed into her, but the pulsing of
her tunnel as her womb convulsed and pulled him even deeper within her.  He collapsed
onto her, breathing heavily.

As his breathing slowed and he came back to the present, he became aware of Martouf
speaking to him rapidly.  "
You must release her at once, Lantash.  How could we do this to
her without releasing her first?"
He moaned to himself and to Lantash.

"Her need for us was more than her need to be released from her bonds, Martouf.  She had
no desire to wait for us to take the time to release her.  As she pointed out, that could be
done afterwards."

"It is afterwards, Lantash."

Groaning at Martouf's nagging, but realizing that Samantha must be becoming
uncomfortable in her present situation, he got up and walked swiftly to the chest holding
the releasing device.  Returning swiftly, he released her wrists, allowing her to lower her
arms from where they were stretched above her head.  She moaned as the muscles
protested.  Her wrists were chaffed, he noticed.  As he leaned over to untie her ankles, he
stopped and once again became rapt in his contemplation of the beauty of her body
spread thus before him.  Becoming aware of what he was doing, he proceeded to untie
her, only to look up and see her smiling at him.  

“I never thought I’d get to live out one of my fantasies in such realistic detail.  And I think
I can do without the fear reality factor, but the rest was pretty amazing.”

He smiled back at her asking, “Then I am forgiven for not untying you first?”

“Yes, you’re forgiven.  But next time, let’s do it without the Jaffa and the slaves okay?”

Lantash watched her curl up in the center of the bed.  He slipped the breeches off, and
naked at last, joined her in the bed after getting the healing device.  He used it on her
wrists first and then the scrapes from the stone floor she had landed on.  From there, he
moved to the bruises left from the beating.  Seeing them, he looked grim and she heard
him muttering that he should have killed him.  As he finished the last of her many
bruises, scrapes, and scratches, he sighed and finally answered her question.

“I hope we will not have to have such a realistic situation again, Samantha, but I cannot
promise you that it will not happen.  I have spent months securing my place here and
establishing myself as a minor system lord.  I cannot allow that to be compromised.  I am
sorry.”

Sam nodded, saying, “It’s why Martouf isn’t coming out at all, isn’t it?  You can’t take the
chance that someone will see that happen or realize that it’s him and not you.  I do
understand.  I miss him, though.  I’m used to having both of you, so I guess I’m spoiled.”

Nodding again, Lantash answered, “We must be extremely careful, Samantha.  I will allow
it to be seen that you have captivated me. It will be a change from what they are used to,
but no one will truly think it that unusual.  Eventually, we all succumb.  But, at no time
must anyone guess we knew each other before.  And never question or dispute with me,
for I would have no choice but to retaliate.”

Sam’s breath caught as she realized what he was saying.  In the eyes of this world, she
was a slave and would be treated as such if she erred.  It was a life and death situation for
them both.  If she made a mistake, or he did, they could both die.  “I understand.”  She
shivered thinking of the danger he was in each and every day.  She had always known,
but being part of it, made it very much more real and possible.

She looked at him, and his breath caught at the look she was sending him.  She had
never told him she cared for him, but the look in her eyes said it.

He shook himself free of that look and tried to become logical.  He needed to tell her what
was happening.

“I have contacted your father and told him you have been recovered and are alive and
well, for the most part.  He was very relieved.  O’Neill would like to come for you at once,
but fortunately, he has no idea where you are, and Jacob will not tell him.  We cannot
take a chance on them coming here."  

"Samantha, I am sorry, but you could be stranded here for up to a month or more.  I am
afraid your colonel is very unhappy, but there is a conference of some system lords coming
up, and I will have to attend.  Camulus is due here in a few days.  We may be signing a
treaty.  I simply cannot leave to return you, and you cannot simply be seen to leave on
your own.  I am sorry.  Of course, I could simply let you disappear, but I cannot do that
until someone can come for you, and Jacob indicated that it could be up to a month or
more before someone is available to do so.”

“A month?  Really?”

Lantash looked at her quizzically.  
"She does not appear to be upset, Martouf."

"No, she does not."

Sam stretched and reached out a hand to run it down his face and then his throat to
stroke his arm.  “A month.  So, what you are telling me is that I am stuck here, as your,
ah, sex slave, for a month.”  Sam’s lips curved in an unconsciously seductive smile.  “Well,
you know, I’ve never had that job before.  I think I’m going to need some more on the job
training before I’m ready to do the job justice.  Do you think that you and Martouf could,
um, give me another lesson?”  She asked, as her hand trailed down his abdomen to find
his shaft and stroke it as it began to stir.  Wetting her finger, she ran it lightly around the
head of his manhood and watched as it jerked in response.  It had gone from flaccid to
stiff in a very, very short space of time.  Less than a couple of heartbeats actually.  Not
exactly nanoseconds, but a close facsimile, she laughed to herself.  

She smiled again and began to caress him in a nice slow rhythm.

“You do not seem upset, Samantha,” Lantash stated quietly.

“That’s because I’m not.  I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather be, Lantash.  What better
place to be than here with you and Martouf? Working beside you, helping you, loving
you.”  She looked down at his now throbbing flesh in her hand.  “Ah, especially, loving
you.  Besides,” she continued, “I haven’t had a real vacation for a long time and, since I’m
going to be your concubine for a month, I might as well relax and try to view my stay here
as a nice long vacation with very, very special entertainment offered.”

Lantash leaned into her and captured her lips in a deep, satisfying kiss.  He did not
understand her attitude exactly, but he had his suspicions and he hoped they were
correct.  Love was the only thing he could think of that would cause a woman to be so
complacent about being in her situation.  He deepened the kiss and pulled her over to
him until she was lying across his lap, her hand never leaving his manhood.  

Thank the universe, she had not yet discovered she could stimulate him directly as well
as through Martouf's shared body.  He sighed as he extended the kiss to attempt to
withdraw her very heart from her.  Perhaps, perhaps this month together could help her
decide that she, Samantha Carter, loved them.  It was worth the slight deception, to find
out.  After all, why use the one chance to get her returned to the SGC tomorrow night
when missing that window of opportunity would give him a month in which to try to
convince her to become their mate, to leave her life and become one with them.  He
groaned as thought began to blur.

Sam sank into his kiss, a kiss that seemed to draw her heart from her breast and place it
into his.  In that moment, she realized the truth of that thought.  He held her heart and
had for a very long time.  It no longer mattered that Jolinar had loved him insanely and
had passed that love to her, for her own love had grown and now the two separate
emotions merged into one immense and overpowering love for this being.  He did hold her
heart, and that was how it was and would be from now on.  If she ever left here, it would
only be long enough to gather her things, and sell her house.  She was moving to the
tunnels as soon as she could.  There was no longer a choice for her.  She had to have
him.  

Melting into his arms, she raised her hand and placed it behind his head, beginning to
caress him firmly.  Her hand stilled for a moment when she felt Lantash quiver.  Not
Martouf's body, Lantash’s.  She heard him moan deeply then, as she resumed her stoking
of him, he gave a sound that was a cross between a growl and a purr and Lantash
quivered more intensely under her exploring fingers.  

As his lips left hers, she felt their body tremble slightly and a memory from Jolinar roared
to life in her mind.  She changed her rhythm to the one she now remembered and heard
him gasp hoarsely.  Sam smiled, almost laughing aloud as the memory played out.  So,
Lantash could be stimulated, and it increased the sexual response of the shared body.  
Martouf would be screaming in his head for him to take her, soon.  Oh, how delicious this
would be.

Taking control of him, she shifted until she could push him down onto the bed.  She then
knelt beside him and began an intimate perusal of his body, taking her time to learn each
sculpted muscle.  She found and laved each of his nipples until they stood up, stiffly erect,
much as his shaft was attempting to do.  It was almost succeeding at times.  Samantha
caught her breath as she realized she had a month to learn these beings and everything
about pleasuring them.  And it would all be in her job description.  What a thing for a
resume, her ready sense of humor, pushed the thought the forefront of her mind for a
moment, before another low moan from her lover brought her focus back to him.

Using one hand on the back of his neck, she used the other to explore his thighs, making
forays towards his now leaping manhood, yet never quite managing to make a completed
journey there.  Her own breathing was becoming erratic as she took in the sensual heat of
his gaze.  His hands gripped the bed coverings and he continued to moan.  Her memories
told her that she had to be careful now or he would lose what little control he still had.  
She wasn’t ready for that to happen yet.  She had too many other places she wanted to
examine closely.  As she removed her hand from his neck, he jerked gasping for breath.

“Dear universe, Samantha, do not stop now, I beg of you.  You have set the fire to burning,
and now you must help to control the blaze.  Please, my heart.”

As he panted his needs, needs that would soon change to demands, she leaned over to
take him into her mouth.  He tasted good.  His flavor mixed with her own was erotic to
her, and soon she moaned around his shaft as she worked her mouth and tongue around
it.  She used both hands now on his shaft and the sac that lay beneath, gently massaging
and loving him.  Giving and, therefore, receiving in return, she felt his fingers reach for
her, and she spread her legs to give him better access to her.  Dear god, she wasn’t going
to be able to hold out against him; she needed him in her again, and she needed him
there now.

Removing him from her mouth and hearing him gasp a complaint at her leaving him
again unsatisfied, she turned and swinging her leg over him, she straddled him where he
lay.  It took no more than a moment to impale herself slightly on the extreme hardness of
his shaft.  She began to ride him slowly, forcing herself not to move to the fast hard
rhythm she really wanted.  His hands came to her breasts and she leaned forward to
begin once again to caress Lantash.  As she had known it would, it caused him to buck
upward mightily, calling her name.  Begging for release now himself, she knew he was
repeating the words Martouf was moaning to him, but which they were now both saying.  
Still, she kept her rhythm slow and not extremely deep forcing both them and herself to
burn hotter.  

Caressing Lantash in the same slow way she was caressing their shaft with her body she
bore down and moved in shorter but more intense strokes, pushing against his pelvic
area, increasing her friction before changing and moving in small circles with her hips.  
He was almost there, almost to that point that he used to tell Jolinar was ‘exquisitely
painful pleasure,’ the point at which he would shift his hands to her hips and take control
of her movements, forcing her to move faster whether she wished to or not.  And he would
begin to thrust upwards frantically, striving to bring this tension to a culmination, and
then, then they would fall over the edge together.  She could see it coming in his eyes, his
face, and feel it in the steel of his muscles as they clenched straining for control that…
was…just…about…to…snap.

And it did.  He grasped her hips as he, and she, had known he would and they began the
almost frantic thrusting that would give them both a mind-blowing release.  Dear
universe, never had he experienced such an intense climax.  Not even with Jolinar and
Rosha had he felt like this.  


Sam came slowly back to reality and found herself lying on his chest sobbing, one hand
still on his neck cradling Lantash and gasping for breath as his trembling hands caressed
and soothed her.

“Dear universe, Samantha.  We do love you so,” Lantash said unsteadily.  “Both of us, my
beloved.”  Lantash reached down and snagging the lightweight covering of the bed, he
pulled it up and over her quivering body.  She wasn’t cold, but it felt good to be cocooned
here with him.  

Placing a soft kiss on his lips, she looked intently into his eyes before saying slowly and
clearly, “I love you both, more than I can ever tell you.  And I always will.  Please don’t
ever doubt that.”  Then she lowered her head to his chest and she felt a soft kiss on the
top of her head.

“We will not forget, Samantha.  And we, also, will always love you.  Rest now, Beloved.  It
is going to be a long, delicious night,” he promised softly.

“Yes,” she murmured sleepily, “the first of many.”

He felt her smile against his chest as she drifted off to sleep.  Cradling her tenderly, he
reveled in the feel of her in his arms.  They would sleep for a while now.  After all, they
had all night tonight, and a month, or perhaps, if he could convince her, more.  The
future looked very much brighter than it had just this morning.  He too, smiled, as he
joined her in slumber.

The End   



            
                     
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