Finding Home

Ronon has to decide where his home truly lies - with a blue-eyed doctor or a village claiming to be his people.

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The last thing Ronon expected to see on his return to Atlantis was Jennifer and a strange male laughing, smiling and walking arm in arm together. The instant Ronon had spied the two it felt like a dull, rusty blade had been plunged deep into his gut and left there to fester. Shock, then rage, had flowed through Ronon searing the image of the couple deep within his soul forever.

If he had been told such a prophecy existed, Ronon would have sworn upon his life that it would never come to fruition. However, seeing now that such a wager would have been lost, Ronon struggled with his decision on keeping his distance from Jennifer, and still keep her protected and safe. The warrior in him had been so focused on keeping Jennifer from death's door that it hadn't occurred to the hot-blooded male Satedan within that she would eventually turn to another male for comfort and other pleasures.

The more Ronon thought of her seeking out another, the more his hold on his emotions slowly eroded away.

Idiot! Fool!

The realization that she possibly cared for someone else, caused Ronon to cease being a rational individual and become more like a crazed beast – wounded to its core. He tried to stay in control, but he barely held tight to the reins of his primal desires and anger. If he were to let loose both the ba'ni and his dark beast, Ronon would - without a doubt - make Jennifer Keller his in every way possible.

A mixture of white-hot rage and desire slowly burned within Ronon as he stared at the beautiful and maddening tormentor from across the room. Clenching his jaw and taking a deep breath, he couldn't help but imagine – or selfishly plan – what he would do to her.

The first thing Ronon would do would be to divest them both of their clothing. First item to go would be that fucking jacket which she still wore. Once naked, he would take - without hesitation - what he deemed to be his. Ronon would in one fluid motion turn her around, bend her over the desk and take her from behind. There would be no need for any preamble or foreplay; her body would easily accept all of him without much resistance. Jennifer would be ready for him, just as she was now.

With his keen Satedan senses, Ronon could smell her enticing essence from all the way across the room. The scent of her arousal began to surround him; to shroud him in an overwhelming state of erotic intoxication. Breathing in deep, he knew that Jennifer would be ready for him - slick and wet - even now if he were to put into action his thoughts. She smelled like a heady mix of Trivydia blossoms and sweet sensual female. She was like a drug, he the addict. And like any devout addict, Ronon never wished to be without his drug of choice nor far from the source of it.

Somehow holding himself back, Ronon's thoughts continued their wanton travels. After bringing her to climax bent over the desk, he would not give her a chance to assemble a single logical thought before he would forcefully throw her onto the nearby bed. With his larger frame easily pinning her to the mattress, Jennifer would protest at the rough handling until his hands, mouth and tongue would start to pay homage to her entire delectable body. Which in turn would have her objections become enticing cries of passion.

The corners of his mouth twitched and his gaze narrowed as he imagined her begging for mercy within a matter of minutes of his enthusiastic endeavors. Then with her soft pleadings whispered next to his ear – and only then – would he swiftly bury himself deep within her folds once more.

He imagined her wrapping her legs tightly around his waist while she would mark his back with her nails digging deep into his flesh. Jennifer would ride wave after wave of pleasure that he would generously gift her with until she'd slowly float back down to reality. However Ronon would not relinquish possession of her body so easily. No, not until he reached his own orgasm. His own pinnacle of pleasure. He would take her with him - again - riding yet another wave of bliss. He would bury himself deep within her very core this time and fill her with his release. He would let her wet heat pull every drop he offered from him. And at the crest of such a climax Ronon would look deep into her eyes - into her very soul - and fiercely whisper, "You fucking belong to me!" as they both would fall together over the edge of exquisite ecstasy.

Ronon inhaled deeply to try and steady his thundering heart and to control his wild thoughts. And also to have an excuse to drown himself in her addictive scent. Inhaling deep her unique sensual smell, Ronon thought of how he would finish his fantasy.

The shower.

He would carry her listless body to the bathroom and under the hot, steaming water Ronon would rid her of the opposing male's scent. Once again aggressively replacing it with his own. By the end of it all, they both would be sated and weak from experiencing wave after wave of pleasure. So much so that the morning would find them both wrapped up in each others arms still lying on the bathroom floor; too exhausted to have ever made it to the bed.

By the time his thoughts ended with their bodies entwined on the bathroom floor, Ronon was in a painful state of arousal.

By the gods, he thought, the woman before him was surely driving him insane. One minute he was seething with anger and the next lust flowed through his veins like a Fra`kretian whore house.

What was he suppose to do? He didn't have time for this.

Ronon didn't have time to hold her in his arms and confess his heart to her; to bare his soul and tell her how much he had missed her. How much he needed her. How much he loved her.

Alianna needed him more at the moment and here he was lusting after a woman he couldn't have. Ronon needed to adhere to his previous plans of keeping his distance from Jennifer and to keep her safe.

So Ronon gathered his emotions as best he could and locked them away deep in the recesses of his heart.

Would there ever be a right time to tell Jennifer how he felt; how he really felt despite what he started to refer to as the curse of the ba'ni harbored within his being.

Ronon felt a slight tug; an invisible pull deep from within him. He knew it for what it was: Jennifer's gentle soul silently reaching out to him; calling out to sooth his tormented one. Her soul beckoned him to merge with her so that they both could become one. The ancient power of the ba'ni, which coursed through his veins like fine, aged Ri'marian whiskey - warm, mellow and smooth - was trying to connect the two separate entities.

Ronon ignored the strong urge to obey, however, and hastily constructed a powerful wall of rage around his heart. He fortified it with the knowledge that another man had briefly held in his arms what rightfully belonged to him. Ronon's dark gaze narrowed at the thought of the young officer touching Jennifer. The beast within impatiently growled; its hunger for vengeance steadily growing.

Nonetheless, Ronon would have to deal with the little prick at a later date. His focus was on Jennifer at the moment.

With the images of the desk, the bed and shower still fresh in his mind, Ronon slowly approached his other.

At the mere sight of him, Jennifer's knees had gone weak. She hadn't trusted herself to stand on her own accord so she used the desk behind her for support. Jennifer remained transfixed by the intensity of the brooding Satedan's heated stare. His face was unreadable – like a mask void of all emotion. After several minutes of him just staring at her, Ronon slowly made his way towards her.

Jennifer's gaze never left him. She had once read somewhere that a person should never take their eyes off of a predator if they valued their safety. A dangerous, unpredictable beast of strength and cunning was what he now reminded her of – a very lethal predator stalking its prey.

As he made his way across the room, Jennifer's heart beat faster, her breath quickened. A shiver ran through her; not one of fear, but of anticipation. The hibernating butterflies in her stomach sprang to life with such force that she laid a hand upon her stomach. Suppressing a joyful giggle, Jennifer barely could hold down the pure excitement that she felt. Her soul cried out in joy. Her Ronon was back.

However, something was different. This was not the same man that had left three weeks ago. There was something about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Then Ronon stopped just out of arms reach of her. His domineering presence made her heart skip a beat and the tingling between her thighs started to build.

Jennifer needed to touch him. Needed to see if he was real or just a figment of her imagination. She took a tentative step forward with her hand raised. Yet, before she could make contact, Ronon swiftly grabbed her wrist. His hot breath fanned over her face as he looked down upon her.

Seconds ticked by until he let lose his grip and told her in no uncertain terms, "Take off that fucking jacket!"

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