A Silken Web Of Dreams

Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: I don't own JAG, wish I did.
Feedback: Yes, please. Be gentle, please--No flames
Summary: This is Jagsmut, pure and simple... okay, so maybe not so pure

Thanks to my beta, Rebecca

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0017 Hours Local Time

Alexandria, Virginia

The hour was late, and the neighborhood had settled into its nightly routine. All of the houses were dark and quiet, their inhabitants long since asleep, sung to their rest by the gentle lullaby of the air conditioners, which were humming softly in the hot summer night.

In one particular townhouse, the lone occupant of the large bed slept soundly, pleasantly lost in the silken web of his dream, hearing neither the soft creak of his bedroom door opening, nor the woman stepping silently into the darkened room. She closed the door quietly behind her, then made her way quickly and quietly to the bed. As she moved across the room, she slipped off her robe and tossed it onto a nearby chair. She was clothed in only a man’s silk pajama top, the hem of which came to the top of her hips and barely covered her well-rounded buttocks.

Pulling back the covers, she slipped into the bed beside him. He was lying on his right side with his back to her, so she snuggled in close to him. She kissed his bare shoulder, her lips moving slowly up his neck to caress his earlobe. He sighed contentedly, then groaned softly and rolled onto his back. Slipping his arms around her, drawing her close to him. He kept his eyes closed, but he was quietly smiling.

“Hey,” he said softly, and pulled her closer for a long, lingering kiss. His lips left hers after a moment and moved to breathe warmly in her ear. “You know, you’re going to have to be more careful, sneaking into my room like this. Sarah might catch you,” he whispered playfully.

“*Clay*!” she shrieked in mock indignation, forcefully smacking his arm with her closed fist.

He opened his eyes then, focusing on the face so close to his own, on her fine-boned loveliness, framed by the riotous cloud of dark hair that he loved so much.

“Oh... Sarah,” he smiled, a teasing glint in his hazel eyes. “It *is* you.”

“Yes, it’s me,” she retorted, huffing in mock anger. She straddled his legs, the palms of her hands resting lightly on his bare chest. “And just who else were you expecting to find in your bed, hmmm?” she said. Her husky voice sounded threatening, but her dark eyes held a playful, teasing glint of their own. She curled her fingers slightly, just enough that her nails dug into his chest, making him wince, just a little, in discomfort.

“No one... honestly. I was just teasing,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

She leaned forward, growling softly, “There’d better be no one else...” She smiled wickedly. “Because, if there is...” And here she began trailing one nail from the hollow of his throat, “I have a K-Bar knife with a seven-inch blade, and you’re liable to find yourself...” through the hair on his chest, to rest just above his groin, “...without seven inches of something *you* seem to place a lot of value on.”

“Now, Sarah,” he laughed softly, grabbing her wrists and pulling her down on top of him, until her face was mere inches from his, the silky mane of her hair brushing against his face. “You shouldn’t act hastily. Besides...” his voice and eyes softened. He released her wrists and raised his hands to cup her face. “Don’t you know by now that you’re all I’ll ever need?”

“Mmmm... good. Just make sure that you remember that fact, *Mr. Webb*,” she murmured against his mouth.

“I will, *Mrs. Webb*,” he replied softly, and pulled her lips to his for a long ardent kiss.

She responded eagerly to the kiss, her lips parting to the gentle brush of his tongue. His tongue probed deeply within her mouth, with slow, exaggerated movements that stroked and caressed the velvet of her tongue. As the kiss deepened, a first flush of heat poured over her body, and she shuddered in delight. His hands left her face and slid in an intimate caress down the smooth curve of her back, reveling in its graceful lines and in the gentle swell of her hips.

Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, she snorted with laughter. Which was not the response he had either expected or hoped to provoke from her.

“What’s so damned funny, if I may ask?” he demanded jokingly.

“*Mrs. Webb*. Sometimes it still makes me feel like your mother,” she explained, still laughing a little at the thought.

“Thanks for ruining the moment, *Colonel Mackenzie*,” he laughed, then kissed her again. He rolled them over, so that she lay beneath him, his body covering hers like a blanket of snow covers the ground in winter. His lips left hers to trail a gentle path to her chin and the smooth, ivory column of her neck, where he kissed the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat; its violent leaping told him the depth of her own arousal. For just a moment, he buried his face in the hollow between her shoulder and her neck, savoring the intoxicating fragrance created by a combination of her own natural scent as it mixed with her perfume.

The warm, softly breathing mouth that murmured love words into her ear, the mouth that moved teasingly along the straining muscle on the side of her neck to bury itself in the tender hollow of her shoulder, shook her to the core, and she wrapped her slender legs around him in order to hold him even closer to her.

Raising his head for a moment, he looked down into her dark eyes, studying her face in the shadowy darkness of the room. With a gentle finger, he traced the delicate lines of her face: each eyebrow, her high cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, and her chin. Many men thought that Sarah was a beautiful woman; but, to him, she was the only woman.

It was a huge undertaking, to be given that kind of responsibility for someone’s happiness, to have that sort of power over their emotions. And it was a duty and an honor that she did not take lightly. Sarah understood that Clayton Webb, that most private of men, had made her the guardian of his heart, its caretaker. And she promised herself, and him, that she would strive to be worthy of the honor. That she would always be the one he could depend upon for comfort, for support, for laughter. And, whether physical or emotional, for love.

She smiled softly at him, her hand reaching up to stroke his cheek, a single finger moving softly over his lower lip. Gently, he bit that finger, his hazel eyes holding her dark eyes captive, daring her onward. She laid her cheek against his shoulder, rubbing it softly with her head.

“I *do* love you, Clay,” she murmured

“And I love you.”

Once again he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her deeply. He slipped one hand between the close press of their bodies to release the buttons of her pajama top. Slowly, yet steadily, he loosed each of them from their holes. One by one, they slipped free, gradually exposing more of her body to the bite of the cool, air-conditioned air. Then, as smoothly as the little closures had eased free of their constraints, his hand, warm and slightly rough against her satiny skin, slipped inside to ease that chill. To cup her breast, almost as if weighing it in his palm, his index finger and thumb carefully caressing her already taut nipple.

“Make love to me, Clay,” she whispered, nuzzling her cheek against his, her voice a breathy rendition of its usual husky alto.

He answered her by capturing her ear with his teeth and tugging on it, before finally closing his lips over its lobe and drawing it into his mouth. She gasped, her hips twitching slightly in response to his caresses. Continuing his silence, he tenderly brushed her tousled hair back from her face, away from her ear, so as to give him better access. Carefully, he traced its intricate whorls, his warm breath igniting the moisture left behind by his tongue, setting off a string of tiny little fireworks that seemed to ripple through her body, all the way down to her toes.

She cried out softly as he caressed her breast once more, her throaty sound of surrender a feeble expression of just how amazing it felt to be held so delicately, so beautifully, in his hands. He touched her carefully, exerting just the right amount of pressure on her sensitive nipples. When he turned his attention to her other breast, she moaned low, and the passionate sound sent a shiver through him.

She felt powerless, and yet, at the same time, she had never felt more alive, more utterly invincible, than she did at moments such as these. When all the sometimes confusing, oftentimes frightening, and always overpowering emotions she had for this man were distilled down to their essence. When all that they felt for each other, all of it, every layer, every nuance, was expressed through the movements of their bodies, the way that world-class athletes used their bodies to give expression to their visions of victory.

Sarah smiled at the thought, and, as she did so, she tipped back her head, exposing her slender throat, like a cat begging to be stroked. He obliged her, nuzzling against her pale, soft skin with the bridge of his nose, dragging his lips over the area as well, almost as if he couldn’t bear to lift his mouth from her, couldn’t stand even that small of disruption of touch.

As her teeth closed over her bottom lip to hold back yet another wordless groan at his touch, Sarah felt that she could understand his reluctance to stop touching. But, despite all of her efforts, that sound escaped from her, just the same; a broken, tortured-sounding note that she could hardly identify as having come from her lips, it sounded so foreign to her ears.

Hazel eyes opened, and he looked down into her dark brown eyes. Her hand was still resting lightly against his cheek, and he turned his head just a little, closing his eyes and kissing the palm of her hand, taking his hand and holding hers to his lips. Simply breathing her in. He opened his eyes again to see her, her eyes shut, fully concentrating on the feeling of his lips on her skin. Watching her breathing a little more quickly. Then he took her hand and placed it on his chest, and she opened her eyes and looked up at him. He stroked her hair and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her. Her lips opened beneath his, and she probed his mouth gently with her tongue, reaching up to run her fingers through his dark hair.

He reluctantly turned away from her, his hand reaching for the bedside table drawer. She smiled and closed her eyes as she heard frantic digging. The bed shifted again and she opened her eyes, finding him poised above her, just looking at her.

At last, he lowered his head and his mouth closed over one nipple, his tongue flickering out to gently stroke it. She murmured softly, breathing soft little sighs of contentment that set his pulse racing.

But she wanted to touch him, too, to give him the same kind of pleasure he was giving her, so she began her own exploration of his body, running her fingers over his chest and shoulders, up to caress the back of his neck, and softly down the muscles of his back. With shaking fingers, she ran her hands over his muscular shoulders as he continued to caress her. Her touch was like a wave flirting with a beach. It came and then it fled back, and light though it was, her touch aroused him deeply.

He eventually transferred his attention to her other nipple, while beneath him she sighed contentedly, obviously satisfied with the attention he was paying her body. His mouth tugged hungrily at her flesh, and she whimpered softly. As his teeth gently scraped against the nipple, it sent a thrill of pure desire through her.

Finally relinquishing her breasts, he moved his head slowly downward over the silky flesh of her torso and abdomen. He could feel the delicate pulsing of her blood as it coursed through the veins beneath his cheek as he pressed soft kisses upon the flesh of her stomach. Each place his lips touched pulsed wildly beneath his kisses.

She sighed deeply, enjoying the sensation of his warm tongue and his lips on her body. One of his hands began to smooth itself in small, seductive circles over the sensitive skin of her stomach, moving slowly downward, until it slid across one silken thigh. Murmuring with open pleasure, Sarah felt mesmerized by his touch. His fingers pushed between her closed legs once, twice, remaining the third time to brush lightly against her sensitive flesh. She gasped when her legs moved slightly apart, seemingly of their own accord, encouraging the invasion. Then, just when she thought she could bear it no longer, his fingers began to stroke her with a tender, light touch. Deep within her body, she could feel the quivering begin, although she didn’t know if he could sense it or not.

His head moved lower, and then he was kissing her thighs with the same soft kisses that he had pressed upon her stomach. Starting at her ankles, he smoothed his hands up her slender legs, stopping only when he reached her inner thighs. He knelt between her outspread legs, his head pushing between her white thighs. His lips gently coaxed her legs apart, and his thumbs parted her. He let his warm breath bathe her in moist air as he inhaled her heady scent, the scent of a sexually aroused woman. And he smiled to himself as he listened to her whimpers.

She bit down hard on her bottom lip, stifling a moan. She wanted this; her legs were shaking from how badly she wanted it. His mouth kissing her, teasing her, caressing her, stroking her, loving her...

“Oh, God!” Her hands flew to his hair, guiding him to that one place she wanted to feel his breath, his mouth, his tongue.

Finally, his tongue darted out and brushed lightly over her flesh, which was already glistening moistly with her need. He heard her give a sharp gasp, then a moan, as he reached out again, licking at her like a cat lapping from a bowl of cream. Slowly and torturously, he searched out and explored all of her secrets, reveling in the low gasps reaching his ears, the way her hands bunched up the blankets on each of side of them. Blowing lightly across her dampened skin, he waited a moment before renewing his heated stroking, his tongue lightly dancing over her flesh.

“Oh, God,” she breathed softly, her body arching slightly off the bed. Sarah’s eyes had closed, seemingly of their own volition, at the onset of his caress. She twisted slightly from side to side, gasping as the cooled air of the room hit the hot skin his mouth left in its wake. Suddenly his tongue found her center, and she rose up against the velvet touch. Slowly, he flicked his tongue back and forth over her, savoring the slightly salty, slightly musky taste of her, before moving lower to plunge deeply within her. Turning her head from side to side, she felt the tremors begin to build, to gather towards the eventual explosion. Just a little more... she groaned aloud, no longer caring if anyone could hear her.

Her breath quickened into short pants as every sensation in her body converged at the point where his tongue met the center of her need.

Too much. It was too much, too soon. It seemed to her as if he had barely started, and she could already feel the wave cresting, pulling her under. Sounds she never knew she could make erupted from deep within and flew from her mouth. She couldn’t stop them, she couldn’t control them. She felt the convulsions getting stronger and faster, her release now the only thing on her mind. What he was doing felt so good, so good. He knew exactly what to do and where to do it. Watching her reactions closely, he took that tiny bundle of nerves between his teeth and tugged once, and her world exploded.

“*Clay*!”

Her hips came off the bed as she thrust wildly against his face. He held her, wrapping his arms around her thighs and riding out the waves with her, grounding her as she took flight. She gave herself over fully to the sensations surging through her body, confident that he would be there to catch her. And he did.

The minute his name left her tongue on the end of low moan, he knew that he was lost. He was so far gone that he had no hope of ever returning. Just hearing his name from her lips, in that particular tone of voice, was almost enough to send him over the edge himself. Almost, but not quite. From somewhere deep within himself, he found enough self-control to fend off the explosion waiting to detonate in his groin.

She smiled, and sighed softly, when she felt one of his hands come to rest lightly on her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw him lying next to her on the bed, propped up on one elbow, just watching her. The soft smile on his face melted her heart.

“Welcome back,” he said, as his hand slowly stroked her heated skin. “Did you have a good trip?” he inquired, with just a touch of his usual humor.

She laughed weakly. “Yeah, it was the best trip I’ve had all year. I wish you had been there with me, though.”

His head dipped down as he kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “I was there, Sarah. All the way.”

Her hand went to the back of his head, pulling his head down to hers, kissing him with a ferocity she hadn’t realized resided in her body. Suddenly, it wasn’t enough for her to feel his tongue tangle with hers, it wasn’t enough for her to take the breath from him as he did the same to her. It was simply no longer enough. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him down to lie atop her. His hips slid over hers as his arms went to either side of her head. She could feel his body trembling with his need, the muscles of his arms quaking as he tried to stay in control, much as she had done earlier.

He was still fighting to maintain control? *No*. She wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

She could feel his arousal, hard, warm, and smooth, pushing against her leg. She let her hand run down along the hard muscles of his shoulder, and from his upper arm to the broad pectoral muscle, which she outlined with her fingers. She stopped for a moment to caress his nipples, with the same devastating results that his caress had had on her. Then, reaching the hollow of the breastbone, she followed that down to his navel, and then downward even further. He twitched and sighed, lifting his hips slightly in a sensuous invitation that she accepted with an eager excitement. She found what she had been seeking, and closed her hand around the solid heat of him. He lifted his head and moaned deeply. Moving her hand down to the nest of dark curls, she tightened her grip and covered the length of him in one slow stroke, delighting in the sound of a second moan erupting from his chest.

He lowered his forehead to her shoulder, gasping. “Oh, God. Sarah. I...” His voice again faded into a moan as she began stroking again along the length of him, this time her grip maddeningly tight. He was able to stand less than ten seconds of her slow manual assault before stilling her hand with his own.

Her eyes questioned him and he gave her a strained smile in return. “If you don’t stop that, we won’t need to use a condom this time.”

“Then maybe you’d better get one,” she managed to say.

“One what?”

“A condom.” She writhed under his body, her comfort disturbed by her own increasing passion, not by the weight of his body lying on hers. “I want you. *Now*.”

He swallowed hard. Her last word had come out as a low, throaty growl, and a command. Not a request, but an order. He happily obeyed, turning over onto his back and fishing blindly with one arm, knowing the condoms he had gotten out of the night stand drawer earlier had fallen off the bed onto the floor. If he could just reach a little further...

“Ahhhh...” His searching hand went limp as he felt her soft, warm lips on his stomach, slowly kissing a path lower and lower, until they finally came into contact with his painfully hard erection. She slid herself down the length of his body slowly, her tongue leaving a wet trail along his torso as he clenched his eyes shut in anticipation. Reaching her goal, she nuzzled his inner thighs gently, inhaling the thick, musky, very masculine scent. As he saw her lick her lips and slowly lower her head, he knew exactly what her next move would be, and the anticipation nearly did him in.