Fenix Rising, Part II-Chapter 3, NC-17
Jul. 30th, 2012 08:35 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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lukeandmaraAfter many weeks I have finally finished this chapter. Enjoy!
Erizaina slowly keyed in a nearly forgotten entry code and listened to her heart pound in her ears for what felt like an eternity. Garen had made her repeat the restricted code at least ten times before she managed to remember it; dispassionately she realized that she must have suffered some neurological damage at some point recently for her memory to be failing so badly. As the door slid open and Eri slipped into the Imperial Palace, she couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or disappointed that he’d been right.
Tomorrow dawned just the same as it had the day before, the main difference being that Mara woke with a smile on her face. She hopped out of bed with more vigor than she’d felt in weeks, braiding her hair as she crossed to the dresser to pull on a set of exercise clothes. She knew there was nothing magical about the day as far as her energy level was concerned, but her enforced captivity was at an end and she knew very well that one’s mental state had as much to do with healing as anything else. Her current mental state was about as gleeful as she got, and following up on a mischievous impulse she rarely allowed to surface, she tiptoed back to the bed, careful not to disturb the still sleeping Luke.
As quickly as she possibly could, she placed one knee on the edge of the bed and swung the other over his hip, trapping him beneath her. Without opening his eyes, Luke reared up and flipped them, pinning her to the bed as she cradled him between her thighs. The suddenness of the movement elicited a squeak from Mara, but as his blue eyes smiled into hers, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Not fair,” she protested. “You were supposed to still be asleep.”
“Mara, I’ve been awake since you started banging the drawers closed,” Luke responded as he drew circles on her ribs through her gray tank.
“I was not banging anything,” Mara protested primly. “If you didn’t have such freakishly enhanced hearing, I could have snuck up on you.”
“But I do. And you didn’t,” Luke murmured as he lowered his head to hers for a kiss, but Mara stopped him with a finger to his lips.
“Can you teach me?” she asked softly in return.
“Teach you what?”
“To sneak up on you,” Mara said as she smoothed the pad of her thumb over his lower lip.
Luke kissed her questing thumb before responding. “I could. Though in the interest of self-preservation, I probably shouldn’t.”
Mara smiled brightly and pulled his head down for a quick, firm kiss. “Then what are we waiting for?” she asked brightly as she sat up, pushing him back toward his pillows.
“What?” he asked, confused.
Mara disentangled herself from his limbs and the sheets then stood, arms crossed over her chest. “You, me, training room.”
Luke ran a hand through his hair and blew out a frustrated laugh. “And here I thought you were suggesting ‘you, me, bedroom.’”
Mara flashed a wicked smile. “That’s for later, farmboy.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” he responded as he stood and stretched, his voice low.
Mara watched the muscles in his chest and arms flex with the motion and she looked into his eyes, her own full of promise. “You’re damn right you are.”
“Okay,” Mara panted as she lay down on the mat in the training room many hours later. “I’m officially exhausted.”
“Up,” Luke said as he uncrossed a leg and poked her calf with his toe. “We haven’t finished meditating.”
“I don’t want to finish meditating,” Mara huffed. “Why is it that every time I suggest training, we end up meditating?”
“I told you,” Luke said firmly. “Your combat skills are beyond reproach; you need to work on your connection to the Force.”
“If my skills are so far beyond reproach, how come I couldn’t sneak up on you this morning?”
“Mara, I’m a Jedi. It’s very difficult for anyone to sneak up on me,” he said patiently.
She lolled her head in Luke’s direction. “Difficult, but not impossible.”
“No, of course not,” Luke said as he stretched out beside her on the mat, knowing any hope of meditation was lost. “I’m not infallible.”
Mara sat up abruptly and tugged on Luke’s hand as she stood. “Then show me.”
“Show you what? That I’m not infallible?”
Mara raised an eyebrow. “That I already know.” She dropped his hand as he stood and crossed her arms. “Show me how to shield myself well enough that I can sneak up on you. I know for a fact I can catch almost every other being in the galaxy unaware; I’d like to go for a perfect record.”
Luke considered briefly, then nodded. Mara began to pace, her energy returning as she watched Luke consider his options. He tilted his head in a way that made her smile; she could almost see the wheels turning in his brain. Watching him as he considered, feeling his attunement to the Force, and acknowledging her own deeper understanding from even his scant teachings put a smile on Mara’s lips and warm glow in her chest. Suddenly she didn’t care about stealth attacks or lightsaber training and her smile turned sensual as she paced behind him, smothering her intentions behind her considerable shields. “Alright, there are a couple of techniques to increase your stealth. First. . .” He trailed off as she ghosted a kiss across the back of his neck. He cleared his throat and Mara stepped away, her hands clasped behind her back, her eyes alight. Luke turned and raised an eyebrow.
“I thought we were having a lesson?”
Mara gave a negligent shrug. “It is a lesson, of a sort. I don’t see why stealth has to be about combat exclusively.”
“Oh really,” Luke murmured, the timbre of his voice sending tingles down her spine.
“Quite,” Mara responded, trying to disguise her breathlessness as Luke advanced on her, his blue eyes gleaming. “See,” she whispered as she leaned in, projecting thoughts of kissing him, then touching her lips to the hollow of his throat instead. “You thought I was going to kiss you,” she breathed as she brought her head back up.
“That’s not stealth,” Luke whispered against her mouth and she could feel him itching to touch her. “That’s misdirection.”
“Does it really matter?” she asked, running her palms down the ribbed cotton of his undershirt.
“Not especially, no,” Luke said just before he kissed her. Mara sighed, leaning into him as his hands spanned her back. Her breasts pressed against his chest and the feel of his mouth against hers, the slide of his tongue against her lips, was better than she expected. Far better in fact than she remembered, and she wound her arms around his neck, loving the feel of his stubble against her cheek. Her heart thudded against her chest and she deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue along his in a rhythm that mimicked an act far more intimate than kissing. Her breath caught as Luke retaliated and sucked her lower lip between his own, biting down lightly. She pressed her hips intimately to his and was rewarded with a groan as his hands gripped her hips.
A wicked thought crossed her mind and she acted instinctively; hooking her leg behind his, she toppled them both to the mat, landing solidly on top of his chest. Luke gave a muffled oath, then speared his fingers into the braided mass of her hair, unwinding it with almost painful tugs. She whimpered against his mouth at a particularly sharp pull and he soothed her by gentling the kiss and running his fingers over her scalp. When he finally had it free of its confines, Luke spread it around them like a curtain.
“Stop,” Mara eventually panted as his questing hands pushed up her shirt and skated along her spine. She pressed her palms lightly against his chest and lifted her head, touching her fingers to her swollen lips and marveling anew that kissing Skywalker felt this damn good.
“You started it,” Luke murmured against her neck, his hands gliding lower and his hardness pressing into her hip.
“You’re right,” Mara said as she attacked his mouth again.
“As much as I’m enjoying this,” Luke said long moments later, bringing her forehead to rest against his. “I have to go take a shower. Otherwise, the Coruscanti Ballet isn’t going to let me in the door, let alone allow me to sit in the NR box.”
Mara arched toward him and nuzzled his throat, eliciting a strangled noise from him. “I rather think that if you’ve got the NR State box, you may go smelling however you wish.”
Luke shot her a wry glance from hooded eyes. “Somehow I doubt Councilor Organa Solo would ever hear the end of that.” Mara laughed and ran a fingertip down his sweat-slicked arm, following the trail with open mouthed kisses.
“Mara,” Luke growled, his hips arching to meet hers of their own accord. “We’re never going to make it out of this room if you keep doing that, much less get to dinner on time.”
She paused thoughtfully and raised up on her elbows above him. “I can manage without dinner,” she finally breathed and Luke snorted, setting her away from him.
“You might, but I can’t.”
Mara sighed and reluctantly rolled away. “Always thinking with your stomach,” she said with a sigh.
Luke laughed longer and louder than was warranted, and he turned his smile on her when she quirked a brow. “Old joke. Ask Chewie sometime.” He stood slowly and Mara grinned and gave a pointed look at the general area below is his beltline.
“That looks uncomfortable.”
Luke frowned down at her and dried his arms with his towel. “It’s your fault.”
Mara rose, her mussed hair draping over her shoulder. “It is indeed,” she stated with a smug look. Luke let out a huff, but smiled as she sauntered up beside him. He placed a chaste kiss on her nose and hugged her briefly.
“Shower time,” he stated simply.
“Can I join you?” Mara asked hopefully, unsure where this playful creature inside her had come from.
“No!” Luke said, looking truly flustered for the first time. “I mean yes, I’d love that,” he stammered, then took a deep breath. “But not now; I want to make sure everything is. . .right this evening. ” He drew her close and leaned forward, their noses just touching, and he smiled. “Maybe tomorrow?”
Mara felt something that felt suspiciously like tears prick the back of her eyes at his earnestness and she kissed him softly. “Tomorrow,” she echoed on a laugh.
Mara looked at the clothes strewn over her bed and wrinkled her nose. She’d held up and discarded at least five outfits already; none of them were right. One was too fancy, two were too casual, and two were so hopelessly out of style she wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing them in her own living room. Being dressed appropriately for the occasion was something she prided herself on; she didn’t want to be seen out with Luke for the first time and be found wanting. She chewed on her lip as she considered that: she was going out with Luke Skywalker, last of the Jedi, twin brother of Council Leia Organa Solo, son of Darth Vader, New Republic hero, etc, etc, in a very, very public way. For a woman who had lived all her life in the shadows, her very existence dependant upon remaining unseen, this was something she had little experience with. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been on what constituted a real date, especially not as herself. She’d been taken out as part of a cover, but never as just Mara. All of the factors combined to make her doubt everything about the entire evening ahead.
She blew out a breath and pulled both her hands through her hair, gathering the slightly damp mass at the back of her head. She remained that way as she scowled at the pile of discarded clothes, pondering whether she should call the whole thing off. Luke’s earnest expression when he’d presented her with tickets swam into her head and she huffed to her closet, having made her decision. “Appropriate be damned,” she muttered as she selected a black suit she’d never worn, but purchased because she’d fallen in love with it. “It’s my first date,” she muttered defiantly into the mirror as she studiously ignored the butterflies in her stomach at her own words. “I’ll wear what I damned well please.”
She was just putting on the finishing touches to her makeup when her annunciator chimed. She’d known Luke wasn’t far; she’d been able to sense him for a good ten minutes as he made his way to her unit. He’d gathered his things after their training session and Mara hadn’t protested, though the flat felt strangely empty without him in it. She crossed the living room, attaching her last ear bauble and pressed the door release. It slid open with a soft whoosh and Luke stood framed in the door, dressed head to toe in the best black outfit he possessed. He took half a step forward, then looked up and froze. His mouth worked, but no sound was forthcoming and Mara allowed herself a small, wry smile. She’d hoped he’d like her choice of outfit, but she hadn’t expected she’d render him speechless.
After all her ribbing about Luke’s blacks, she’d chosen a suit in the same shade, though to call it a suit was doing it an injustice. She’d picked it up in the same shop where she’d bought her blue silk robe; it had been astronomically expensive, but apparently it had been worth every credit. The black trousers were made of a fabric with a good amount of stretch and a slight sheen and as snug as they could be without being indecent all the way down to her ankle. They were elegant and provocative while still retaining some sense of practicality; she’d tried several high kicks before committing to buying the outfit.
The jacket, while not quite as practical, was something Mara considered a work of art. The majority of the fabric was a wonderful, supple black stretch, but it was inset with sinuous panels of the same satiny fabric as the trousers. A panel ran down the center of each sleeve and curved out from her waist down her hips, with another two framing a center panel in her back. The neckline was the reason she’d initially deemed the suit inappropriate for this outing; to say it was low would have been a massive understatement. It plunged nearly to the bottom of her breastbone, leaving a wide expanse of pale flesh uncovered. She’d felt amazing the first time she’d put it on and she felt even better now, having completed the outfit with high-heeled black shoes and long, faintly sparkling drops at her ears.
“Would you like to come in?” she finally asked, flushing.
Luke blinked and gave her a long, slow look from head to toe and she bit her lip at the tingles his gaze set off.
“Better not,” he murmured, reaching out to finger a lock of her hair. “I don’t think I’d want to leave.”
Mara laughed and rolled her eyes as she grabbed her small holdout blaster from a table near the door and rolled up her sleeve, trying to cover her nervousness and pleasure at his compliment. “Skywalker, that’s the one of the worst lines I’ve ever heard,” she said as she fastened it to the inside of her wrist and adjusted the sleeve over it.
She turned to find Luke leaning in the doorframe, smiling at her, his shock apparently dissipated. “It’s not a line if it’s true.”
“Oh spare me,” Mara said companionably and darted a quick glance at herself in the mirror in the entry.
“You look wonderful,” Luke said sincerely and Mara returned his compliment with one of her own.
“So do you,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “I like what those trousers do for your. . .assets.” Luke laughed self-consciously and Mara smirked, pleased that she’d managed to put both of them back on comfortable, easy footing. “Shall we go?”she asked with a gesture at the door, and Luke stepped aside to allow her to pass.
“No lightsaber?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
“It didn’t match my outfit,” Mara said with a shrug. “And it’s not as though I could conceal it anywhere on my person,” she said as she gestured to her suit.
“I noticed,” Luke murmured, his his flickering to the exposed flesh below her throat as they turned a corner.
“Where are we going? The lifts are that way,” Mara pointed out and Luke shook his head with a sly smile.
“Patience,” he admonished lightly as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Trust me.”
“Somehow that phrase does not inspire confidence,” Mara muttered and Luke’s smile broadened.
Much as she didn’t like to admit it, Mara knew that at some point she’d had to take back her words. Their detour had been to get to the private airspeeder Luke had hired for the evening, complete with driver. It was an elegant, if over the top, touch that she hadn’t been expecting and she’d smiled at the sight. Dinner had been an equally elegant experience, though they’d had a human male waiter whose gaze kept straying where it shouldn’t have. At one point Mara thought she was going to have to teach the young man a lesson, but either her glare or Luke’s scowl must have been sufficiently frightening for the waiter to get the message.
Apart from that small incident, Mara didn’t think she’d ever had as pleasant of an evening. Luke was wonderful company; he was charming and funny with just enough of that farmboy sincerity she’d come to expect. He complimented her, he held open doors, he even pulled out her chair. Mara had been raised in the Emperor’s court where that kind of treatment was reserved only for the very rare wives of grand moffs and the occasional visiting dignitary; she was vaguely uncomfortable having all the attention directed at her. She finally raised an eyebrow when Luke pushed back his own chair as she stood to go to refresher. “Planning to come with me?”
Luke flushed and swallowed. “My aunt told me to stand from the table when a lady did,” he said and Mara could sense that the admission cost him something, though she couldn’t tell why, so she let her astonishment show to try to diffuse his sudden tension.
“Really?” she drawled, though she smiled. “I’m not sure anyone that’s been a dancer for Jabba the Hutt, a smuggler and, most importantly, one of the Emperor’s personal servants could be called a lady.” She’d meant the statement to be light, but felt her smile turning brittle. She was, or had been, all of those things and she suddenly felt very uncomfortable and conspicuous; not only in her surroundings, but in the presence of the man she had come here with.
Her hand hung near the edge of the table and she felt a feather light touch brush across her fingertips. She glanced down to see Luke’s fingers skim over her knuckles and was very aware it was the first time they’d touched all evening. By some tacit agreement, they had kept their hands to themselves in public; they both knew neither of them were ready for the official declaration of togetherness that displays of affection would inevitably require. This faint contact then, this brief grazing of fingers, seemed magnified ten-fold and Mara glanced up with a sharp but quiet intake of breath. She met Luke’s blue eyes, feeling like her soul was showing through the cracks in the armor she’d managed to build over the years. He gazed back steadily and Mara thought she could detect something buried, deeply buried, in him as well. Reluctantly she stepped away from the table, drawing her hand close to her body. “We should get going when I come back from the ‘fresher,” she said softly. Luke nodded, his gaze distant, and Mara turned away.
They arrived at the theater a good half hour before the ballet was to begin, which gave them time to procure a drink and wander around the grandeur that was the Imperial Theatre. They chatted about nothing in particular; architecture, who might win the smashball finals this season, which type of root vegetable paired better with a dewback steak. Mara noticed that she was the object of a number of disapproving glares from women and an equal number of leers from men as they meandered around the complex. She’d known that would be the reaction from the minute she’d bought the jacket, but for some reason it hadn’t bothered her as much in theory as it did in practice. She set her shoulders as they approached the curtains of the their box, trying to appear unruffled.
“Did you ever do ballet?” Luke asked out of the blue, glaring as yet another man walked past, staring at Mara.
She smiled a little sadly and ran her hand over the opulent gray velvet curtains as the hallway behind her emptied. “Only when I was a little girl. Then I got too big.”
“Too big?” Luke asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Have you ever seen a ballerina with a chest like mine?” she asked with a tinge of regret.
Luke gallantly swept the curtain aside for her to enter and grinned widely. “I have to say, I haven’t had the opportunity to see many chests like yours, ever.”
Mara rolled her eyes and stepped into box. “Not what I meant and you know it. You can’t be a ballerina and look like me.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’m very glad you look like you,” Luke said as he sat down and leaned over the edge of their box, looking at the thousands of people below.
Mara settled in her own seat next to him, watching his eager expression and sensing his excitement. “You’ve never been to one of these have you?” she asked, putting as much warmth as possible into her question. She knew he’d be embarrassed otherwise; he never liked appearing overly naive.
“Is it that obvious?” he asked with a self-deprecating smile as he sat back. “I imagine you’ve been to hundreds.”
“No, it isn’t obvious, but I know you, Luke Skywalker. Anytime you’re trying to be nonchalant about something that means it’s important. And so far, you’ve been so nonchalant about this as to be blasé.”
“You do know me, don’t you?” he murmured, turning his head to catch her gaze.
“As well as I know anyone, I suppose,” she said, feeling slightly panicked. This was neither the time nor the place for the discussion she felt was about to happen; she didn’t know exactly what it would have been, but the air felt thick with importance and she wasn’t ready for whatever it was. “I haven’t been to hundreds,” she blurted, trying to change to subject and hoping he’d follow her lead.
Luke shifted in his chair but seemed to understand. “Not hundreds? Dozens?”
Mara smiled at him, then looked wistfully down at the stage. “Maybe closer to a hundred. But only a single hundred. I used to sneak backstage and watch from there when I could. Rehearsals, performances; it didn’t matter.” She could feel Luke’s startlement.
“Really?”
She sat back and regarded him coolly, strangely hurt that he seemed to find it so implausible. “Yes, really. Is that so hard to believe?”
“No, no,” he defended quickly then paused. “Well, yes, actually. I find it hard to reconcile the woman I know with a young girl that sneaks backstage to watch a ballet.”
“It’s not like I grew up wanting to be an assassin,” she shot back, crossing her arms and glaring at a seat in the distance. She hadn’t meant to say that; had never vocalized that to anyone and she felt intensely exposed.
Just then the lights began to dim. She felt Luke reach over and into the tangle of her arms, prying her hand loose. He brought it to the console between them, resting her palm on top of his and when it was fully dark, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know,” he whispered with a squeeze to her hand and Mara knew that he did. It wasn’t as if he’d grown up wanting the life he’d led either. She returned the gesture with her hand and made no attempt to pull away. They stayed that way through the entire performance.
They left the theater, hands brushing again but never fully touching for fear of onlookers. They stood shoulder to shoulder as they reached the speeder stop and stayed that way as the hired vehicle slid silently to a halt. Luke opened the door and Mara climbed in first while Luke followed. As soon as the door had closed he reached across the space between them to tangle their fingers together. He squeezed gently and leaned in closer, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. “I don’t think I told you before,” he said very quietly, “but you look beautiful.” Mara opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Luke shook his head. “No, you don’t look beautiful; you are beautiful,” he finished tentatively.
Mara’s breath caught in her throat and she stared into his vibrant blue eyes. She shifted in her seat, lifting a trembling hand to his cheek. “Only to you,” she whispered as she leaned forward, unable to resist the lure of his mouth. Just before their lips met, Luke reached up a hand and threaded it through her unbound locks.
“Not just to me,” he murmured. “Every man in that building was undressing you with his eyes.”
Mara fluttered her eyelashes. “Jealous, Skywalker?” she teased, the motion of her mouth bringing them into tantalizingly brief contact. The hand in her hair tightened and she felt Luke swallow.
“Yes, dammit,” he whispered harshly. “You-” he said, breathing suddenly erratic. He licked his lips and the gesture elicited an involuntary whimper from Mara. She squirmed closer, desperate to taste him; desperate to show him how he made her feel.
“Jedi Skywalker?” the driver called, and they pulled apart, panting. “We’ve arrived, sir.”
Luke sat up and ran a hand through his hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Without a word to the driver or a look at Mara, he opened the door and stepped out, finally nodding curtly when the driver saluted. He strode to the door and raised a hand to the lock; with a sudden surge of arousal, Mara noticed it was trembling. She smiled slightly to herself and, at Luke’s gesture, preceded him through the door. She walked all the way to the living room, Luke following silently, and she abruptly turned to face him. She stood toe to toe with him, the throbbing in the pit of her stomach intensifying, and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Now,” she said, then flicked the tip of her tongue over his lower lip, “What was that about jealousy?” She felt and heard Luke’s breathing quicken and she pulled back to gaze into his eyes.
“Mara, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he responded, fists clenching at his sides and eyes squeezing shut.
Mara looped her arms around his waist and leaned forward to bite down gently on his earlobe. “What if I want you to mean it?” she whispered hotly and Luke shuddered before he grabbed her face between his hands and crushed his mouth to hers. Mara pressed into him, sucking his lower lip between hers, and arching her back as his hands gripped her bottom. She whimpered as he trailed a hand along her spine and cupped the back of her head, angling her so he had better access to her mouth. He slid his other hand around the slick fabric of her jacket and deftly unfastened the front, fingers tracing under the lapel against bare skin. He stepped back, and Mara could feel his lust and astonishment. She smiled tenderly and stepped back to shrug the jacket off her shoulders, leaving her bare to the waist.
“Nothing underneath?” he breathed as he raised a reverent hand to trace an exposed breast.
“No,” Mara said, shaking her head and causing her red tresses to cover her. She blushed, suddenly shy. “I thought you might enjoy it. As kind of a thank you for-” she never finished, as Luke cut her off with another kiss. This one was different; it was slow and deliberate and Mara thought her bones might melt from the heat. She reached out to unfasten his top and his fingers found the zip on the side of her trousers. She pushed his shirt off slowly, savoring the smooth skin underneath and Luke slowly drew down the zipper. His fingers stroked the tiny portion of her hip he’d uncovered and he pulled his mouth away from hers.
“Mara,” he said hoarsely, glancing down at her breasts and setting her a little away from his body.
“Luke?” she queried, ducking her head to try to catch his gaze.
“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” he said, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “Knew that I cared about you.”
Mara looked puzzled, not daring to to think he meant what she hoped he meant. “I care about you too,” she said slowly. “I thought that was implicit.”
Luke shook his head. “No. I mean yes, but more than . . more than I’d realized. And, and,” he stammered, his nervousness touching something deep inside Mara. “I really don’t want to screw this up.”
Mara’s heart skipped a beat and an inarticulate sound escaped her lips. Unable to form the words she wanted, Mara reached out and laid her palms flat against Luke’s smooth chest. She caressed the skin under her fingertips with small strokes and tilted her head so her mouth grazed his. “I don’t want to screw it up either,” she whispered, ducking her head to hide her flush. Luke’s fingers tightened on her hips and his breathing quickened at her words. Silently, she removed one of his hands and held it with her own. She tugged him, unresisting, to the bedroom and stood before him, shimmying out of her tight trousers.
Luke stared as she stood, reaching out a single finger to trace a line down her abdomen. “Mara, I-” he swallowed hard and blinked dazedly, but Mara shushed him.
“No more talking,” she said, her tone gentle. “There’ll be time for talking later.” She stepped into him and his hands immediately encircled her waist. “For now, just-” It was Mara’s turn to stumble on unfamiliar words and she huffed a frustrated breath at herself. “Just,” she began again. “Make love to me,” she finally whispered against Luke’s shoulder.
He groaned low in his throat and propelled her toward the bed, kissing a trail from her neck to her breast. When she felt her knees touch the edge of the mattress, she gladly allowed herself to be lowered down. Luke supported himself on one arm over her, dragging the backs of his knuckles along the outside of her breast before leaning down to lave her nipple with a flat tongue.
Mara sighed in pleasure and ran a hand through her own hair. She skimmed that hand down her throat and over to the waistband of Luke’s trousers, stopping her descent only long enough to roll the nipple of her unattended breast between two fingers. Luke groaned again, and his pleasure in the Force bled into her own, fanning the already intense heat between them into something incendiary.
Mara unclasped Luke’s trousers just as he brushed his thumb over her already damp and swollen nub and she let out a low moan, pressing up against his hand. Not to be dissuaded from her own goal though, her slender fingers slipped inside the waistband of his underwear, and pumped his hard flesh slowly. Luke groaned against her skin and Mara was suddenly desperate to have him inside her. “Off,” she panted as she pushed frantically at the remaining clothing between them.
Luke rolled to his side and quickly pushed the trousers over his hips, the belt making a dull thud as it hit the floor. Mara wasted no time seeking out and stroking him and Luke pressed her against the pillows with a rough kiss. “Mara, I-,” he grunted as he positioned himself above her and she guided him into her core. They both groaned at the contact and anything further Luke might have said was forgotten as Mara clenched her inner muscles around him. As he began to move against her, Mara could feel Luke reach out a small tendril of awareness in the Force, to which she greedily latched on. She stroked his mind even as he stroked her body; his pleasure became hers and her pleasure was his. She was suddenly intimately familiar with every sensation that made him pant with desire; every place to touch that drove him wild. She knew that he possessed the same knowledge about her when he reached between them and stroked her in a way that caused her to babble incoherently and buck against him. She cried out her release, the high pitched, feminine sounds causing Luke to moan and press his lips to her throat.
Instead of increasing the speed of his thrusts as she’d anticipated, Luke slowed until he was barely moving at all, his cock barely teasing her entrance. He dropped his head to her shoulder and placed open mouthed kisses along her collarbone as Mara skated her hands along his sweaty back. “What are you doing?” she asked in a husky whisper and she could feel Luke relishing the fact that he’d made her sound like that.
“I’m savoring the moment,” he responded, his voice low and tight at the effort he was expending to not move within her.
Mara rubbed her cheek against his and stretched out, searching his mind for something he’d like and she suddenly smiled. “Is that what you want? To savor the moment?” she asked in his ear as she bumped her hips against his. He nodded against her neck and she bit down on his earlobe, hard enough to cause him to gasp. “Liar,” she whispered, and in a quick move, flipped them over so she straddled his waist.
Luke’s hands immediately came to rest on her hips, and Mara chuckled as she leaned down to stroke his tongue with hers. “You’re a little bit naughtier than I would ever have given you credit for,” Mara said as she sat up from the kiss and lowered herself onto his shaft. He gasped at the increased depth of penetration and Mara closed her eyes in bliss. She tweaked her own nipples as Luke’s hand began to guide her to a rhythm and she felt his burst of pleasure at the sight.
“I wanted the other,” he said, teeth clenched. “But I wanted this too. Want you; just want you,” he ground out and Mara felt herself began to spiral toward ecstasy for a second time, her heart stuttering at his words. She leaned forward, changing the angle of her hips, and moaned at the change in friction.
“Come with me,” she murmured, her long hair splaying across his chest.
Luke swore under his breath, and increased his pressure on her hips, both of them gasping their finish mere moments later. Their minds reached out for one another as their bodies sated themselves, twining their senses even further together as their muscles clenched, the ecstasy so exquisite Mara could not remain upright. She collapsed against Luke’s flushed chest and for long moments, neither of them moved. Eventually, Luke’s arms came up to shift Mara slightly to the side, her head still pillowed on his chest. She felt herself drifting off, but thought there was something she wanted to say first. It half-clicked and she mumbled something against Luke’s chest.
“What was that?” he asked sleepily, trailing a finger down her arm.
She snuggled closer, resting her hand on his chest, and sighed. “ . . . more than I realized, too,” she murmured. She couldn’t see it, but she felt Luke’s smile light up the Force.
Erizaina slowly keyed in a nearly forgotten entry code and listened to her heart pound in her ears for what felt like an eternity. Garen had made her repeat the restricted code at least ten times before she managed to remember it; dispassionately she realized that she must have suffered some neurological damage at some point recently for her memory to be failing so badly. As the door slid open and Eri slipped into the Imperial Palace, she couldn’t decide whether she was relieved or disappointed that he’d been right.
Tomorrow dawned just the same as it had the day before, the main difference being that Mara woke with a smile on her face. She hopped out of bed with more vigor than she’d felt in weeks, braiding her hair as she crossed to the dresser to pull on a set of exercise clothes. She knew there was nothing magical about the day as far as her energy level was concerned, but her enforced captivity was at an end and she knew very well that one’s mental state had as much to do with healing as anything else. Her current mental state was about as gleeful as she got, and following up on a mischievous impulse she rarely allowed to surface, she tiptoed back to the bed, careful not to disturb the still sleeping Luke.
As quickly as she possibly could, she placed one knee on the edge of the bed and swung the other over his hip, trapping him beneath her. Without opening his eyes, Luke reared up and flipped them, pinning her to the bed as she cradled him between her thighs. The suddenness of the movement elicited a squeak from Mara, but as his blue eyes smiled into hers, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Not fair,” she protested. “You were supposed to still be asleep.”
“Mara, I’ve been awake since you started banging the drawers closed,” Luke responded as he drew circles on her ribs through her gray tank.
“I was not banging anything,” Mara protested primly. “If you didn’t have such freakishly enhanced hearing, I could have snuck up on you.”
“But I do. And you didn’t,” Luke murmured as he lowered his head to hers for a kiss, but Mara stopped him with a finger to his lips.
“Can you teach me?” she asked softly in return.
“Teach you what?”
“To sneak up on you,” Mara said as she smoothed the pad of her thumb over his lower lip.
Luke kissed her questing thumb before responding. “I could. Though in the interest of self-preservation, I probably shouldn’t.”
Mara smiled brightly and pulled his head down for a quick, firm kiss. “Then what are we waiting for?” she asked brightly as she sat up, pushing him back toward his pillows.
“What?” he asked, confused.
Mara disentangled herself from his limbs and the sheets then stood, arms crossed over her chest. “You, me, training room.”
Luke ran a hand through his hair and blew out a frustrated laugh. “And here I thought you were suggesting ‘you, me, bedroom.’”
Mara flashed a wicked smile. “That’s for later, farmboy.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” he responded as he stood and stretched, his voice low.
Mara watched the muscles in his chest and arms flex with the motion and she looked into his eyes, her own full of promise. “You’re damn right you are.”
“Okay,” Mara panted as she lay down on the mat in the training room many hours later. “I’m officially exhausted.”
“Up,” Luke said as he uncrossed a leg and poked her calf with his toe. “We haven’t finished meditating.”
“I don’t want to finish meditating,” Mara huffed. “Why is it that every time I suggest training, we end up meditating?”
“I told you,” Luke said firmly. “Your combat skills are beyond reproach; you need to work on your connection to the Force.”
“If my skills are so far beyond reproach, how come I couldn’t sneak up on you this morning?”
“Mara, I’m a Jedi. It’s very difficult for anyone to sneak up on me,” he said patiently.
She lolled her head in Luke’s direction. “Difficult, but not impossible.”
“No, of course not,” Luke said as he stretched out beside her on the mat, knowing any hope of meditation was lost. “I’m not infallible.”
Mara sat up abruptly and tugged on Luke’s hand as she stood. “Then show me.”
“Show you what? That I’m not infallible?”
Mara raised an eyebrow. “That I already know.” She dropped his hand as he stood and crossed her arms. “Show me how to shield myself well enough that I can sneak up on you. I know for a fact I can catch almost every other being in the galaxy unaware; I’d like to go for a perfect record.”
Luke considered briefly, then nodded. Mara began to pace, her energy returning as she watched Luke consider his options. He tilted his head in a way that made her smile; she could almost see the wheels turning in his brain. Watching him as he considered, feeling his attunement to the Force, and acknowledging her own deeper understanding from even his scant teachings put a smile on Mara’s lips and warm glow in her chest. Suddenly she didn’t care about stealth attacks or lightsaber training and her smile turned sensual as she paced behind him, smothering her intentions behind her considerable shields. “Alright, there are a couple of techniques to increase your stealth. First. . .” He trailed off as she ghosted a kiss across the back of his neck. He cleared his throat and Mara stepped away, her hands clasped behind her back, her eyes alight. Luke turned and raised an eyebrow.
“I thought we were having a lesson?”
Mara gave a negligent shrug. “It is a lesson, of a sort. I don’t see why stealth has to be about combat exclusively.”
“Oh really,” Luke murmured, the timbre of his voice sending tingles down her spine.
“Quite,” Mara responded, trying to disguise her breathlessness as Luke advanced on her, his blue eyes gleaming. “See,” she whispered as she leaned in, projecting thoughts of kissing him, then touching her lips to the hollow of his throat instead. “You thought I was going to kiss you,” she breathed as she brought her head back up.
“That’s not stealth,” Luke whispered against her mouth and she could feel him itching to touch her. “That’s misdirection.”
“Does it really matter?” she asked, running her palms down the ribbed cotton of his undershirt.
“Not especially, no,” Luke said just before he kissed her. Mara sighed, leaning into him as his hands spanned her back. Her breasts pressed against his chest and the feel of his mouth against hers, the slide of his tongue against her lips, was better than she expected. Far better in fact than she remembered, and she wound her arms around his neck, loving the feel of his stubble against her cheek. Her heart thudded against her chest and she deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue along his in a rhythm that mimicked an act far more intimate than kissing. Her breath caught as Luke retaliated and sucked her lower lip between his own, biting down lightly. She pressed her hips intimately to his and was rewarded with a groan as his hands gripped her hips.
A wicked thought crossed her mind and she acted instinctively; hooking her leg behind his, she toppled them both to the mat, landing solidly on top of his chest. Luke gave a muffled oath, then speared his fingers into the braided mass of her hair, unwinding it with almost painful tugs. She whimpered against his mouth at a particularly sharp pull and he soothed her by gentling the kiss and running his fingers over her scalp. When he finally had it free of its confines, Luke spread it around them like a curtain.
“Stop,” Mara eventually panted as his questing hands pushed up her shirt and skated along her spine. She pressed her palms lightly against his chest and lifted her head, touching her fingers to her swollen lips and marveling anew that kissing Skywalker felt this damn good.
“You started it,” Luke murmured against her neck, his hands gliding lower and his hardness pressing into her hip.
“You’re right,” Mara said as she attacked his mouth again.
“As much as I’m enjoying this,” Luke said long moments later, bringing her forehead to rest against his. “I have to go take a shower. Otherwise, the Coruscanti Ballet isn’t going to let me in the door, let alone allow me to sit in the NR box.”
Mara arched toward him and nuzzled his throat, eliciting a strangled noise from him. “I rather think that if you’ve got the NR State box, you may go smelling however you wish.”
Luke shot her a wry glance from hooded eyes. “Somehow I doubt Councilor Organa Solo would ever hear the end of that.” Mara laughed and ran a fingertip down his sweat-slicked arm, following the trail with open mouthed kisses.
“Mara,” Luke growled, his hips arching to meet hers of their own accord. “We’re never going to make it out of this room if you keep doing that, much less get to dinner on time.”
She paused thoughtfully and raised up on her elbows above him. “I can manage without dinner,” she finally breathed and Luke snorted, setting her away from him.
“You might, but I can’t.”
Mara sighed and reluctantly rolled away. “Always thinking with your stomach,” she said with a sigh.
Luke laughed longer and louder than was warranted, and he turned his smile on her when she quirked a brow. “Old joke. Ask Chewie sometime.” He stood slowly and Mara grinned and gave a pointed look at the general area below is his beltline.
“That looks uncomfortable.”
Luke frowned down at her and dried his arms with his towel. “It’s your fault.”
Mara rose, her mussed hair draping over her shoulder. “It is indeed,” she stated with a smug look. Luke let out a huff, but smiled as she sauntered up beside him. He placed a chaste kiss on her nose and hugged her briefly.
“Shower time,” he stated simply.
“Can I join you?” Mara asked hopefully, unsure where this playful creature inside her had come from.
“No!” Luke said, looking truly flustered for the first time. “I mean yes, I’d love that,” he stammered, then took a deep breath. “But not now; I want to make sure everything is. . .right this evening. ” He drew her close and leaned forward, their noses just touching, and he smiled. “Maybe tomorrow?”
Mara felt something that felt suspiciously like tears prick the back of her eyes at his earnestness and she kissed him softly. “Tomorrow,” she echoed on a laugh.
Mara looked at the clothes strewn over her bed and wrinkled her nose. She’d held up and discarded at least five outfits already; none of them were right. One was too fancy, two were too casual, and two were so hopelessly out of style she wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing them in her own living room. Being dressed appropriately for the occasion was something she prided herself on; she didn’t want to be seen out with Luke for the first time and be found wanting. She chewed on her lip as she considered that: she was going out with Luke Skywalker, last of the Jedi, twin brother of Council Leia Organa Solo, son of Darth Vader, New Republic hero, etc, etc, in a very, very public way. For a woman who had lived all her life in the shadows, her very existence dependant upon remaining unseen, this was something she had little experience with. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been on what constituted a real date, especially not as herself. She’d been taken out as part of a cover, but never as just Mara. All of the factors combined to make her doubt everything about the entire evening ahead.
She blew out a breath and pulled both her hands through her hair, gathering the slightly damp mass at the back of her head. She remained that way as she scowled at the pile of discarded clothes, pondering whether she should call the whole thing off. Luke’s earnest expression when he’d presented her with tickets swam into her head and she huffed to her closet, having made her decision. “Appropriate be damned,” she muttered as she selected a black suit she’d never worn, but purchased because she’d fallen in love with it. “It’s my first date,” she muttered defiantly into the mirror as she studiously ignored the butterflies in her stomach at her own words. “I’ll wear what I damned well please.”
She was just putting on the finishing touches to her makeup when her annunciator chimed. She’d known Luke wasn’t far; she’d been able to sense him for a good ten minutes as he made his way to her unit. He’d gathered his things after their training session and Mara hadn’t protested, though the flat felt strangely empty without him in it. She crossed the living room, attaching her last ear bauble and pressed the door release. It slid open with a soft whoosh and Luke stood framed in the door, dressed head to toe in the best black outfit he possessed. He took half a step forward, then looked up and froze. His mouth worked, but no sound was forthcoming and Mara allowed herself a small, wry smile. She’d hoped he’d like her choice of outfit, but she hadn’t expected she’d render him speechless.
After all her ribbing about Luke’s blacks, she’d chosen a suit in the same shade, though to call it a suit was doing it an injustice. She’d picked it up in the same shop where she’d bought her blue silk robe; it had been astronomically expensive, but apparently it had been worth every credit. The black trousers were made of a fabric with a good amount of stretch and a slight sheen and as snug as they could be without being indecent all the way down to her ankle. They were elegant and provocative while still retaining some sense of practicality; she’d tried several high kicks before committing to buying the outfit.
The jacket, while not quite as practical, was something Mara considered a work of art. The majority of the fabric was a wonderful, supple black stretch, but it was inset with sinuous panels of the same satiny fabric as the trousers. A panel ran down the center of each sleeve and curved out from her waist down her hips, with another two framing a center panel in her back. The neckline was the reason she’d initially deemed the suit inappropriate for this outing; to say it was low would have been a massive understatement. It plunged nearly to the bottom of her breastbone, leaving a wide expanse of pale flesh uncovered. She’d felt amazing the first time she’d put it on and she felt even better now, having completed the outfit with high-heeled black shoes and long, faintly sparkling drops at her ears.
“Would you like to come in?” she finally asked, flushing.
Luke blinked and gave her a long, slow look from head to toe and she bit her lip at the tingles his gaze set off.
“Better not,” he murmured, reaching out to finger a lock of her hair. “I don’t think I’d want to leave.”
Mara laughed and rolled her eyes as she grabbed her small holdout blaster from a table near the door and rolled up her sleeve, trying to cover her nervousness and pleasure at his compliment. “Skywalker, that’s the one of the worst lines I’ve ever heard,” she said as she fastened it to the inside of her wrist and adjusted the sleeve over it.
She turned to find Luke leaning in the doorframe, smiling at her, his shock apparently dissipated. “It’s not a line if it’s true.”
“Oh spare me,” Mara said companionably and darted a quick glance at herself in the mirror in the entry.
“You look wonderful,” Luke said sincerely and Mara returned his compliment with one of her own.
“So do you,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “I like what those trousers do for your. . .assets.” Luke laughed self-consciously and Mara smirked, pleased that she’d managed to put both of them back on comfortable, easy footing. “Shall we go?”she asked with a gesture at the door, and Luke stepped aside to allow her to pass.
“No lightsaber?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
“It didn’t match my outfit,” Mara said with a shrug. “And it’s not as though I could conceal it anywhere on my person,” she said as she gestured to her suit.
“I noticed,” Luke murmured, his his flickering to the exposed flesh below her throat as they turned a corner.
“Where are we going? The lifts are that way,” Mara pointed out and Luke shook his head with a sly smile.
“Patience,” he admonished lightly as he clasped his hands behind his back. “Trust me.”
“Somehow that phrase does not inspire confidence,” Mara muttered and Luke’s smile broadened.
Much as she didn’t like to admit it, Mara knew that at some point she’d had to take back her words. Their detour had been to get to the private airspeeder Luke had hired for the evening, complete with driver. It was an elegant, if over the top, touch that she hadn’t been expecting and she’d smiled at the sight. Dinner had been an equally elegant experience, though they’d had a human male waiter whose gaze kept straying where it shouldn’t have. At one point Mara thought she was going to have to teach the young man a lesson, but either her glare or Luke’s scowl must have been sufficiently frightening for the waiter to get the message.
Apart from that small incident, Mara didn’t think she’d ever had as pleasant of an evening. Luke was wonderful company; he was charming and funny with just enough of that farmboy sincerity she’d come to expect. He complimented her, he held open doors, he even pulled out her chair. Mara had been raised in the Emperor’s court where that kind of treatment was reserved only for the very rare wives of grand moffs and the occasional visiting dignitary; she was vaguely uncomfortable having all the attention directed at her. She finally raised an eyebrow when Luke pushed back his own chair as she stood to go to refresher. “Planning to come with me?”
Luke flushed and swallowed. “My aunt told me to stand from the table when a lady did,” he said and Mara could sense that the admission cost him something, though she couldn’t tell why, so she let her astonishment show to try to diffuse his sudden tension.
“Really?” she drawled, though she smiled. “I’m not sure anyone that’s been a dancer for Jabba the Hutt, a smuggler and, most importantly, one of the Emperor’s personal servants could be called a lady.” She’d meant the statement to be light, but felt her smile turning brittle. She was, or had been, all of those things and she suddenly felt very uncomfortable and conspicuous; not only in her surroundings, but in the presence of the man she had come here with.
Her hand hung near the edge of the table and she felt a feather light touch brush across her fingertips. She glanced down to see Luke’s fingers skim over her knuckles and was very aware it was the first time they’d touched all evening. By some tacit agreement, they had kept their hands to themselves in public; they both knew neither of them were ready for the official declaration of togetherness that displays of affection would inevitably require. This faint contact then, this brief grazing of fingers, seemed magnified ten-fold and Mara glanced up with a sharp but quiet intake of breath. She met Luke’s blue eyes, feeling like her soul was showing through the cracks in the armor she’d managed to build over the years. He gazed back steadily and Mara thought she could detect something buried, deeply buried, in him as well. Reluctantly she stepped away from the table, drawing her hand close to her body. “We should get going when I come back from the ‘fresher,” she said softly. Luke nodded, his gaze distant, and Mara turned away.
They arrived at the theater a good half hour before the ballet was to begin, which gave them time to procure a drink and wander around the grandeur that was the Imperial Theatre. They chatted about nothing in particular; architecture, who might win the smashball finals this season, which type of root vegetable paired better with a dewback steak. Mara noticed that she was the object of a number of disapproving glares from women and an equal number of leers from men as they meandered around the complex. She’d known that would be the reaction from the minute she’d bought the jacket, but for some reason it hadn’t bothered her as much in theory as it did in practice. She set her shoulders as they approached the curtains of the their box, trying to appear unruffled.
“Did you ever do ballet?” Luke asked out of the blue, glaring as yet another man walked past, staring at Mara.
She smiled a little sadly and ran her hand over the opulent gray velvet curtains as the hallway behind her emptied. “Only when I was a little girl. Then I got too big.”
“Too big?” Luke asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Have you ever seen a ballerina with a chest like mine?” she asked with a tinge of regret.
Luke gallantly swept the curtain aside for her to enter and grinned widely. “I have to say, I haven’t had the opportunity to see many chests like yours, ever.”
Mara rolled her eyes and stepped into box. “Not what I meant and you know it. You can’t be a ballerina and look like me.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’m very glad you look like you,” Luke said as he sat down and leaned over the edge of their box, looking at the thousands of people below.
Mara settled in her own seat next to him, watching his eager expression and sensing his excitement. “You’ve never been to one of these have you?” she asked, putting as much warmth as possible into her question. She knew he’d be embarrassed otherwise; he never liked appearing overly naive.
“Is it that obvious?” he asked with a self-deprecating smile as he sat back. “I imagine you’ve been to hundreds.”
“No, it isn’t obvious, but I know you, Luke Skywalker. Anytime you’re trying to be nonchalant about something that means it’s important. And so far, you’ve been so nonchalant about this as to be blasé.”
“You do know me, don’t you?” he murmured, turning his head to catch her gaze.
“As well as I know anyone, I suppose,” she said, feeling slightly panicked. This was neither the time nor the place for the discussion she felt was about to happen; she didn’t know exactly what it would have been, but the air felt thick with importance and she wasn’t ready for whatever it was. “I haven’t been to hundreds,” she blurted, trying to change to subject and hoping he’d follow her lead.
Luke shifted in his chair but seemed to understand. “Not hundreds? Dozens?”
Mara smiled at him, then looked wistfully down at the stage. “Maybe closer to a hundred. But only a single hundred. I used to sneak backstage and watch from there when I could. Rehearsals, performances; it didn’t matter.” She could feel Luke’s startlement.
“Really?”
She sat back and regarded him coolly, strangely hurt that he seemed to find it so implausible. “Yes, really. Is that so hard to believe?”
“No, no,” he defended quickly then paused. “Well, yes, actually. I find it hard to reconcile the woman I know with a young girl that sneaks backstage to watch a ballet.”
“It’s not like I grew up wanting to be an assassin,” she shot back, crossing her arms and glaring at a seat in the distance. She hadn’t meant to say that; had never vocalized that to anyone and she felt intensely exposed.
Just then the lights began to dim. She felt Luke reach over and into the tangle of her arms, prying her hand loose. He brought it to the console between them, resting her palm on top of his and when it was fully dark, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know,” he whispered with a squeeze to her hand and Mara knew that he did. It wasn’t as if he’d grown up wanting the life he’d led either. She returned the gesture with her hand and made no attempt to pull away. They stayed that way through the entire performance.
They left the theater, hands brushing again but never fully touching for fear of onlookers. They stood shoulder to shoulder as they reached the speeder stop and stayed that way as the hired vehicle slid silently to a halt. Luke opened the door and Mara climbed in first while Luke followed. As soon as the door had closed he reached across the space between them to tangle their fingers together. He squeezed gently and leaned in closer, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. “I don’t think I told you before,” he said very quietly, “but you look beautiful.” Mara opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Luke shook his head. “No, you don’t look beautiful; you are beautiful,” he finished tentatively.
Mara’s breath caught in her throat and she stared into his vibrant blue eyes. She shifted in her seat, lifting a trembling hand to his cheek. “Only to you,” she whispered as she leaned forward, unable to resist the lure of his mouth. Just before their lips met, Luke reached up a hand and threaded it through her unbound locks.
“Not just to me,” he murmured. “Every man in that building was undressing you with his eyes.”
Mara fluttered her eyelashes. “Jealous, Skywalker?” she teased, the motion of her mouth bringing them into tantalizingly brief contact. The hand in her hair tightened and she felt Luke swallow.
“Yes, dammit,” he whispered harshly. “You-” he said, breathing suddenly erratic. He licked his lips and the gesture elicited an involuntary whimper from Mara. She squirmed closer, desperate to taste him; desperate to show him how he made her feel.
“Jedi Skywalker?” the driver called, and they pulled apart, panting. “We’ve arrived, sir.”
Luke sat up and ran a hand through his hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Without a word to the driver or a look at Mara, he opened the door and stepped out, finally nodding curtly when the driver saluted. He strode to the door and raised a hand to the lock; with a sudden surge of arousal, Mara noticed it was trembling. She smiled slightly to herself and, at Luke’s gesture, preceded him through the door. She walked all the way to the living room, Luke following silently, and she abruptly turned to face him. She stood toe to toe with him, the throbbing in the pit of her stomach intensifying, and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Now,” she said, then flicked the tip of her tongue over his lower lip, “What was that about jealousy?” She felt and heard Luke’s breathing quicken and she pulled back to gaze into his eyes.
“Mara, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he responded, fists clenching at his sides and eyes squeezing shut.
Mara looped her arms around his waist and leaned forward to bite down gently on his earlobe. “What if I want you to mean it?” she whispered hotly and Luke shuddered before he grabbed her face between his hands and crushed his mouth to hers. Mara pressed into him, sucking his lower lip between hers, and arching her back as his hands gripped her bottom. She whimpered as he trailed a hand along her spine and cupped the back of her head, angling her so he had better access to her mouth. He slid his other hand around the slick fabric of her jacket and deftly unfastened the front, fingers tracing under the lapel against bare skin. He stepped back, and Mara could feel his lust and astonishment. She smiled tenderly and stepped back to shrug the jacket off her shoulders, leaving her bare to the waist.
“Nothing underneath?” he breathed as he raised a reverent hand to trace an exposed breast.
“No,” Mara said, shaking her head and causing her red tresses to cover her. She blushed, suddenly shy. “I thought you might enjoy it. As kind of a thank you for-” she never finished, as Luke cut her off with another kiss. This one was different; it was slow and deliberate and Mara thought her bones might melt from the heat. She reached out to unfasten his top and his fingers found the zip on the side of her trousers. She pushed his shirt off slowly, savoring the smooth skin underneath and Luke slowly drew down the zipper. His fingers stroked the tiny portion of her hip he’d uncovered and he pulled his mouth away from hers.
“Mara,” he said hoarsely, glancing down at her breasts and setting her a little away from his body.
“Luke?” she queried, ducking her head to try to catch his gaze.
“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” he said, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “Knew that I cared about you.”
Mara looked puzzled, not daring to to think he meant what she hoped he meant. “I care about you too,” she said slowly. “I thought that was implicit.”
Luke shook his head. “No. I mean yes, but more than . . more than I’d realized. And, and,” he stammered, his nervousness touching something deep inside Mara. “I really don’t want to screw this up.”
Mara’s heart skipped a beat and an inarticulate sound escaped her lips. Unable to form the words she wanted, Mara reached out and laid her palms flat against Luke’s smooth chest. She caressed the skin under her fingertips with small strokes and tilted her head so her mouth grazed his. “I don’t want to screw it up either,” she whispered, ducking her head to hide her flush. Luke’s fingers tightened on her hips and his breathing quickened at her words. Silently, she removed one of his hands and held it with her own. She tugged him, unresisting, to the bedroom and stood before him, shimmying out of her tight trousers.
Luke stared as she stood, reaching out a single finger to trace a line down her abdomen. “Mara, I-” he swallowed hard and blinked dazedly, but Mara shushed him.
“No more talking,” she said, her tone gentle. “There’ll be time for talking later.” She stepped into him and his hands immediately encircled her waist. “For now, just-” It was Mara’s turn to stumble on unfamiliar words and she huffed a frustrated breath at herself. “Just,” she began again. “Make love to me,” she finally whispered against Luke’s shoulder.
He groaned low in his throat and propelled her toward the bed, kissing a trail from her neck to her breast. When she felt her knees touch the edge of the mattress, she gladly allowed herself to be lowered down. Luke supported himself on one arm over her, dragging the backs of his knuckles along the outside of her breast before leaning down to lave her nipple with a flat tongue.
Mara sighed in pleasure and ran a hand through her own hair. She skimmed that hand down her throat and over to the waistband of Luke’s trousers, stopping her descent only long enough to roll the nipple of her unattended breast between two fingers. Luke groaned again, and his pleasure in the Force bled into her own, fanning the already intense heat between them into something incendiary.
Mara unclasped Luke’s trousers just as he brushed his thumb over her already damp and swollen nub and she let out a low moan, pressing up against his hand. Not to be dissuaded from her own goal though, her slender fingers slipped inside the waistband of his underwear, and pumped his hard flesh slowly. Luke groaned against her skin and Mara was suddenly desperate to have him inside her. “Off,” she panted as she pushed frantically at the remaining clothing between them.
Luke rolled to his side and quickly pushed the trousers over his hips, the belt making a dull thud as it hit the floor. Mara wasted no time seeking out and stroking him and Luke pressed her against the pillows with a rough kiss. “Mara, I-,” he grunted as he positioned himself above her and she guided him into her core. They both groaned at the contact and anything further Luke might have said was forgotten as Mara clenched her inner muscles around him. As he began to move against her, Mara could feel Luke reach out a small tendril of awareness in the Force, to which she greedily latched on. She stroked his mind even as he stroked her body; his pleasure became hers and her pleasure was his. She was suddenly intimately familiar with every sensation that made him pant with desire; every place to touch that drove him wild. She knew that he possessed the same knowledge about her when he reached between them and stroked her in a way that caused her to babble incoherently and buck against him. She cried out her release, the high pitched, feminine sounds causing Luke to moan and press his lips to her throat.
Instead of increasing the speed of his thrusts as she’d anticipated, Luke slowed until he was barely moving at all, his cock barely teasing her entrance. He dropped his head to her shoulder and placed open mouthed kisses along her collarbone as Mara skated her hands along his sweaty back. “What are you doing?” she asked in a husky whisper and she could feel Luke relishing the fact that he’d made her sound like that.
“I’m savoring the moment,” he responded, his voice low and tight at the effort he was expending to not move within her.
Mara rubbed her cheek against his and stretched out, searching his mind for something he’d like and she suddenly smiled. “Is that what you want? To savor the moment?” she asked in his ear as she bumped her hips against his. He nodded against her neck and she bit down on his earlobe, hard enough to cause him to gasp. “Liar,” she whispered, and in a quick move, flipped them over so she straddled his waist.
Luke’s hands immediately came to rest on her hips, and Mara chuckled as she leaned down to stroke his tongue with hers. “You’re a little bit naughtier than I would ever have given you credit for,” Mara said as she sat up from the kiss and lowered herself onto his shaft. He gasped at the increased depth of penetration and Mara closed her eyes in bliss. She tweaked her own nipples as Luke’s hand began to guide her to a rhythm and she felt his burst of pleasure at the sight.
“I wanted the other,” he said, teeth clenched. “But I wanted this too. Want you; just want you,” he ground out and Mara felt herself began to spiral toward ecstasy for a second time, her heart stuttering at his words. She leaned forward, changing the angle of her hips, and moaned at the change in friction.
“Come with me,” she murmured, her long hair splaying across his chest.
Luke swore under his breath, and increased his pressure on her hips, both of them gasping their finish mere moments later. Their minds reached out for one another as their bodies sated themselves, twining their senses even further together as their muscles clenched, the ecstasy so exquisite Mara could not remain upright. She collapsed against Luke’s flushed chest and for long moments, neither of them moved. Eventually, Luke’s arms came up to shift Mara slightly to the side, her head still pillowed on his chest. She felt herself drifting off, but thought there was something she wanted to say first. It half-clicked and she mumbled something against Luke’s chest.
“What was that?” he asked sleepily, trailing a finger down her arm.
She snuggled closer, resting her hand on his chest, and sighed. “ . . . more than I realized, too,” she murmured. She couldn’t see it, but she felt Luke’s smile light up the Force.
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