His hands were trembling. He noted it, absently, as he brushed fingers along the waves of her hair, but he refused to think about it.
She noticed it, too, and raised her hands to catch one of his own between them. "You're nervous," she stated baldly. He glanced at her face, then quickly looked away, focusing on her hair.
"I'm not," he lied. What's there to be nervous about? It's only sex. Which I've never had before. And with Mara.
All right, there's everything to be nervous about.
But he couldn't tell her that. It was too late for distance, but his dignity was still salvageable. And it was only sex.
You just keep telling yourself that, a mocking voice inside him said. You can pretend it doesn't mean much, but if you want to delude yourself, go ahead.
"We don't have to," she murmured, even as he silenced that other voice. "If you don't want to..."
"I do!" he interrupted. And he did, his body reminded him, with anticipation pooling in his stomach and beginning to spread to the rest of him. "But if you changed your mind--"
"No," she said, quickly, and he looked at her face to see her flash a smile at him. Then he saw her swallow. "It's just...I'm nervous, too."
Oddly, her own admission of weakness gave him more confidence. "Then we'll go slowly," he said, a whispered promise. Gently, he freed his hand, moving it upward to lightly trace her face, ghosting across her eyebrows, the curves of her cheekbones, the line of her jaw. It traveled down her neck, reaching the collar of her shirt, which he left alone for the moment, continuing downward.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, softly. His hand reached the swell of one breast, just barely moving up and down with her breathing. "Tell me if I do anything you don't like," he went on, his hand moving slower now, stroking her breast through the material of her shirt. "And if I do anything you do like and want me to repeat," he added with a smile.
Stepping closer to her, placing his other hand at the back of her neck, he felt her also beginning to tremble. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open. When he listened closely, he could hear her breathing. Carefully, he leaned his forehead against hers, building a mental shield around his emotions. This was certainly not something he wanted his father to feel over their bond.
"Mara," he said, still stroking her breast, feeling the nipple harden beneath his fingertips, "tell me what you want."
Her eyes opened and focused on his. Such a lovely shade of green, he noted. The exact color seemed to shift with the light, to great effect. Her eyes were a lighter emerald now, smiling at him as her lips echoed the gesture.
"Just keep doing that," she said, leaning into his touch. "It feels good."
He smiled back at her, then hesitated. Should he ask? She'd already made it clear that his attentions were not unwelcome-- "It might feel better without the shirt," he said, gingerly. His hand paused as he waited for her answer.
She was silent a moment, then said, evenly, "So it might." Then she stepped back away from him, and, before he could begin to think that she'd changed her mind, she grasped the bottom edge of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head, tossing it off to the side as if it didn't matter where it landed. Then, quickly, she reached behind herself and unsnapped her bra, pulling that off and throwing it after the shirt. Now bare to the waist, she looked at him, and cocked an eyebrow, as if in challenge.
But he found he couldn't move, either to step forward and touch her again or to begin to remove his own clothing. He just stared, his eyes wide, his gaze traveling slowly across her form. This is really happening, he thought as he admired her. Somehow it hadn't hit him before that he was really going to do this, was really going to make love to Mara Jade, his best friend, his enemy's servant...
He couldn't hold back any longer. He strode forward and took her in his arms, pressing his mouth firmly against hers. She returned the kiss, opening her mouth to him, curling her tongue around his. The feel of her breasts against his chest, even through his shirt, made him shiver, suddenly, and he felt himself begin to harden.
He felt her hands on his waist, untucking his shirt, sliding up his back. She began to shuffle backwards and he went with her, still kissing her insistently, unable to tear himself away. How had he gone so long before, never knowing her kiss, the feel of her mouth on his, the velvet stroking of her tongue? Now it seemed burned indelibly in his brain, and he didn't mind at all.
It was extraordinary.
They stepped into her bedroom, still kissing, and he kicked the door closed as she drew him onwards. He was definitely hard now, his erection straining against the fabric of his pants.
"Mara," he groaned against her lips. He wanted the rest of his clothing off, and hers as well, but he had to stop kissing her to get rid of the shirt, at least, and he didn't want to do that.
She caught his lower lip between hers, gently, then released it. "Come on," she whispered. "There's more to this than kissing."
He was startled into a laugh. "Right," he said, running a hand through his hair. Her hands were still on his back, but they moved down again, to the hem of his shirt, grabbing it and pulling it upwards. He allowed her to draw it over his head and throw it to one side, but when she moved to his belt, he stopped her. "You first," he said, leaning forward and breathing the words against her ear, then gently tugging on her earlobe with his teeth. "I want to see you first."
She sniffed, but he could feel her amusement, overlying apprehension. He didn't mention it, couldn't mention it, but he wanted her to be the first to bare herself completely. He knew he could never think her less than absolutely beautiful, but he didn't know what she would think of him, and he wanted to delay her judgment, if only for a few minutes.
"All right," she finally replied, and her hands went to the waistband of her loose lounging pants. She pulled them down, stepping out of them and kicking them away, and then her underwear followed suit.
"Oh," he breathed, looking at her, feeling a sharp spike in desire at the sight of her naked body right in front of him. "Force, Mara. Wow."
"Luke?" she questioned, her voice edgy with nerves that he could feel, leaking out from beneath her shields. They matched his, hidden behind his own mental barriers.
"You're beautiful," he said, letting out a slow, shuddering breath. She was beautiful. And she was his, standing there naked for him, soon going to let him into her body. Something of her would always belong to him, now.
And, maybe, something of him would always belong to her, too.
But he shook his head slightly, dispelling the thoughts. This was not a time for thinking; this was a time for feeling, for the heat coursing through him, the desire, the need to shuck the rest of his clothes and join with her.
He doubted he'd ever been so fast in undressing before. His belt had been tossed somewhere behind him, his pants and underpants kicked away to join hers. Soon he was as naked as she, watching her gaze trail his body, and shivering with barely suppressed need.
"Can I...?" she asked, suddenly, reaching out halfway before stopping and almost drawing back. But he could tell what she wanted.
"Go ahead," he encouraged, and closed his eyes as her hand moved forward again and curled around his erection. He stubbornly held back a moan as her fingers ran over it, exploring, the pads of her fingers and soft warmth of her palm feeling wonderful against his sensitive skin. He'd touched himself before, but this was different. Her smaller hand, softly stroking him, base to tip and back again, ghosting across his balls--pressure built inside him at her every touch. Fluid seeped out of the tip; she spread it around the head with her thumb, and he shivered in surprise and pleasure.
It was amazing--but it wasn't enough. "Bed," he said, voice hoarse, unable to manage a complete sentence. "Mara--"
"Right," she whispered, taking his hand and leading him to her bed in the corner of the room. She eased herself back onto it, scooting up to the headboard, and he clambered after her. He felt clumsy again, as he hadn't in years--Force, what if he did something stupid? What if she didn't like it? He tried to remember those long-ago datachips he'd read on the subject, but most of it was about reproduction instead of how to give the most pleasure--
Which brought him up short. "Mara," he said, urgently, kneeling on top of the covers. "You're not--I mean, are you--"
"What?"
"Protection!" he blurted out. Palpatine's voice echoed in his mind, dampening ardor, warning, Do not get her with child. "Against children! I don't want--I mean, I shouldn't--"
But she smiled at him, and put a finger over his lips to stop his babbling. "I'm good," she reassured, caressing his lower lip with her thumb. "We're fine. Though what a time to remember!" she teased.
He smiled, uncertainly, as she took her finger away. "Just wanted to make sure."
"You've made sure," she said, tartly, "so unless you've changed your mind, come on."
He was happy to comply. She'd touched him now, but he hadn't had a chance to touch her, skin against skin, and he wanted to. He shifted closer, moving between her knees. His length bumped her inner thigh, hardening again now that Palpatine's voice was quiet and Mara was looking at him, eyes expectant.
He leaned down and took one breast in his mouth, and she gasped. He swirled his tongue around the peak, then nipped, gently, at the hardened tip, and she hissed, her hands tangling in his hair. As he moved his mouth to the other breast, one hand drifted up her leg. When he slipped a finger inside her, she groaned.
Her hands slid away from his head as he raised it to look at her face. Her eyes were tightly closed, her mouth open, her breath audibly shallow and quick. He stroked her, marveling at her warm wetness, the velvety feel of her clenching around his finger. Her legs spread wider, allowing him greater access, and she thrust her hips towards him. Her responsiveness amazed him.
"That feels good," she whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear. "Really good. Don't stop."
When his thumb found the small bud of flesh just inside her folds and started rubbing, she let out a low moan. I guess she likes that. He kept rubbing, and watched the play of emotions on her face, desire and impatience and growing ecstasy. Her eyes shot open, the irises a darkened green, and she focused on him just before one final caress caused her to shudder and scream in release. Waves of pleasure rolled through her Force sense as she took in several deep breaths, making a visible effort to regain control of herself.
He grinned. It was almost strange, how nice pleasing her made him feel. But his erection now was so hard it was almost painful, and he wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her. She frowned at him when he removed his finger, but her eyes widened as his length pressed against her opening.
"Ready?" he breathed, shaking with the effort of holding himself still. But then she nodded, and he eased forward. Slowly, he reminded himself. Didn't the first time usually hurt for women? He didn't want to hurt her, so he went slowly, giving her time to adjust to having him inside her.
But then her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Too slow," she growled. "I'm not fragile, Luke. I can handle it."
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, still shaking. How could something feel this good? Mara, pressed against him, clenched around him, so tight...
"Some Sith Lord," she muttered, but before he could react to that, she smiled at him. "I told you I can handle it, so move!"
He did. With a strangled groan, he sheathed himself to the hilt, still awed at the sensation. And he could feel her pleasure, too, echoing inside him, a bond between them forming and strengthening as he joined himself to her. He rocked his hips against hers, hearing her breathy panting. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, arching her back, her sweat-slicked chest pressing against his.
She was exquisite, and she was his. The passion in her eyes, her moans and whispered commands of more and harder, the burning in her Force-sense--all because of him. It was almost more erotic than the physical sensations; he had a strange suspicion that, if he hadn't been holding part of himself back in the Force, if he gave her everything that he was and received everything of her in exchange, their joining in the Force would far outmatch anything physical they could ever do.
But this was still his, right here and right now, their bodies rocking against each other, the feel of her around him driving him to the edge. All worries, all external concerns, were gone--there was only Luke, and Mara, and Luke-and-Mara.
"Luke," she whispered, voice passion-hoarse, her body shuddering beneath him and her muscles clenching around him. He looked down at her flushed face, felt her Force-sense brush against his, and couldn't hold back any longer. He buried his face in the warm skin of her shoulder as he came with a shout, climaxing inside her.
He lay on top of her for a moment, simply breathing. She breathed with him, her hands lightly caressing his back, moving upward to stroke his hair. He smiled, and pressed a kiss against her neck before slipping out of her and rolling away.
"Well," she said, as her breathing evened out. "I can see why people like doing that so much."
He chuckled tiredly. "It was...very intense," he agreed. Then he yawned. "Can I...?"
"Stay," she said, finishing his question and commanding him all at once. She echoed his yawn. "We can figure things out tomorrow."
And there was a lot to figure out, he knew, sliding beneath the covers and using the Force to turn off the light. But as she laid her head on his shoulder, he decided to let things be for now. It had been a long time since he'd been so content.
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