Author's Notes: This is really where I start heading into the AU.
DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
You see the depths of his need, or his wants pressing for favor in his eyes. They shine like a torch in the night. The bed on either side of you dips from the weight of his hands and legs, as they are taut and shaking in strain. So much heat, so much passion. There is no passion, only serenity. You know that you do not have the Jedi proverb correct, but close enough. Looking at this man’s face: lips slack and shining from your juices, beard glistening from nature’s moisture and your own, hair askew, flushed skin and incredibly bright eyes, you know that there is indeed passion. A passion to rival the inferno of a star. And the man burns steadily with it.
His hands run down your neck to your breasts, sweeping over them. The normal friction of the skin is lessened by the rain-slicked fluidity that covers you now. The window still stands open, allowing the sounds and smells and touches of nature’s own passion storm to cover the both of you. Neither one of you rises to close the window. Let nature join you in your pursuits. There will be time enough for a dry safe cocoon later.
You nipples tighten unbearably, pushed to their limit by his earlier caresses and now by the combined onslaught of his hands and the cooling breezes. His eyes waver from yours to center on your risen buds. As the spell is broken by the removal of his eyes, you begin to feel the rest of your body, and his. You become entirely aware of your surroundings once again. The first and most commanding feeling that you receive is that of his cock, hard and eager against your thigh. And in that feeling, all else pales.
Your hand cups his neck, pulling him for another eager kiss. He has said that speech is not acceptable. Fine, you will convince him with your lips. It is time for his pleasure. There is no other purpose for you at this moment, then to assure this gentle warrior that he will receive his completion. His hand curls around yours as it holds to his thick neck. His fingers brush at your wrist. With a slight shake of his head and then the joining of your lips. You take the lead, pulling, stroking at his lips. Your tongue rubs the interior of his lip, running over his rough teeth and into the sweetness beyond. Dark, humid and tasting of passion and promises, the interior of his mouth burns you.
You need me, you think.
“I have more then need of you, love.” He answers, his mind voice gravely and tight. “I am burning.”
His hand grabs your smaller one and lowers it to his erection, hot and coiled. Its surface is even hotter than it feels against your leg. Thick, the muscle is barely encased in your hand. You sigh happily as you run your hand along its length. He voices your attentions by groaning as your hand reaches his testicles and then travels back up slowly. You take great pleasure in the moans that he voices, and continue your assault with gentleness and purpose.
After two more strokes, he removes your hand. It is obvious that he is close to whatever pinnacle he ascends in his moments of passion. You lift your hand; your fingers slightly coated with his ardent juices. As you lift them to your mouth, his jaw falls slack. “Gods.” You hear across the ether.
His movements are controlled, but barely. You can feel the urgency as it explodes out of his being. His arm nearly flies to your hips, curling under you, burying into the bedclothes. His skin there is hot against the cooled skin. With a sudden movement, he lifts your hips and swings your body around on the bed. Your hands fall to his shoulders, helping to ease the weight off of this straining arm. The swing completed, he returns to standing between your feet, at the edge of the bed.
Thunder roars nearby. It matches your feeling exactly. You are now bereft of the Master’s body warmth and his presence. He needs to come back. Does he think that you do not need him too? As a streak of lightning occurs, you see him. Standing with his back arched slightly, legs spread, one hand on his hip. The other hand....well, the other hand is busy. His head falls back on his ample shoulders as you watch his hand drawing a slow dance along his length. You whimper out loud as the image from the bathtub is replayed in vertical position.
His head rights itself and he meets your eyes. It is as if an anchor has weighted on your gaze and you are unable to pull your eyes away. Seconds pass as the man holds your gaze and strokes himself. Thunder waves come and go, rain splashes in the sill of the window. No sound emanates from the two of you. It is as if nature is speaking for you. Listening to the swirl of the tempest released outside, you feel lightheaded, a part of the storm. His voice is low and hot in the dark as he breaks your silence.
“Gods, I want you.”
You hold his gaze as you separate your legs for him. He comes no closer, though, watching your move like a preying cat. Your hands sweep down your own body, dragging across the dew on your skin. The dew is warm on the skin, yet icy as the cool breeze blows across it; again a contradiction that makes your senses reel. Your hand travels to the apex of your thighs, lingering and relaxing. This is not for your touch, you think. This act is reserved for this Jedi standing immobile by the foot of the bed.
“I need you, love.”
His voice is low, mimicking the thunder that rolls across the sky. Almost as if it too, was borne of the lightning of passion and heralds the feelings approach across the distance. Warning, menacing of a power not understood, and not to be handled lightly.
“Come here.”
These are the only words to leave your mouth this evening. You can almost see them float across the space, like a leaf on the breeze. His reaction is physical. He mounts the bed, crawling over you. You can feel the heat of his thighs as they settle between your own. His arms tense and support him. He rests so that his head is above yours; his hard cock is the only portion of his body in full contact with you.
“I cannot make promises.”
You nod, reaching to clasp at his shoulders. You can feel the passion induced tremor in his muscles. The man is using amazing restraint, where another man would have roughly taken you and thanked you for it. He remains silent, waiting. After a time, your eyes lock with his, and as a passing bolt of lightning lights the room, you see the firm set of his jaw, the gentleness in his eyes.
“I would not ask for any, Qui-Gon, “ you respond, nodding gently.
His mouth is gentle, as he tastes your lips with a chasteness that is betrayed by his heavy erection rubbing against your entrance. You grasp at his shoulders harder as you smell the musk of sex on his beard. Oh Gods! He wears your arousal like his cloak.
He kisses your lips deeply as you feel his erection prodding your entrance. Hot. Slippery, a combination of moisture of passion from the two of you. And…large…. Your eyes fly open at his entrance. The knight presses slowly, but you feel the strain in his shoulders, his neck. He wishes to thrust. Hard. One of your hands falls to his buttocks, urging him to sink in fully. His teeth grabbing at his lower lip follow his shake of his head. “Slowly. You are tight: I will not hurt you.”
You gasp as he moves in further. Your back arches from the bed, your thighs lift to encircle his. Ache. He spreads you, spears you, and elongates you. His mouth falls to your lips again, nibbling. He slides in a little more. Ache, need. You experience these words fully. You need him completely within you. You ache…Gods! He gives up the slowness as he groans into your mouth. He sinks completely into you with a grunt.
You are impaled on the bed, unable to move or think. His eyes slip shut and he swallows convulsively. It is audible this closeness. You sigh his name as he groans yours. Hot breath brushes your ears, dancing across its cool flesh. He is heavy above you. You can feel the heaviness of his sac, laying against your buttocks; feel the strain in his powerful thighs pressing against your legs. “Hold on to me, love.” He whispers.
You comply, sliding your hands further down his back as his raises his hips. You feel him sliding out of you, every inch. You are wet enough that the friction is minimal for you, but his size still spreads you. You gasp. Wide and thick, long and….your breath rushes out of you as he presses back in, groaning. The pressure is great.
Digging your nails into his back, you are rewarded with a grunt and he slides back in and immediately pulls out. He is soo large. Colossal, and he has the power to use it. You want his power, his drive, his need. Rubbing, pulling, ebb, flow. His hips begin to work, swaying in a circular thrust, and then a quick retreat. He does not speak, grunting with each thrust. There is no need for speech. You arch your back further as he slips his hand down to your thigh, holding it against his side.
“Yes…” he sighs lowly, arching his back rubbing against you as he thrusts powerfully. He holds his position for a moment, looking into your eyes. “Hold on.”
You gasp as his hand hitches your thigh up higher. His fingers dig in, holding your flesh tightly. In another flash, and a rumbling crash, you see his face, his eyes hooded. His hips begin to move, quickly, steadily. “I cannot hold back..” he moans.
“Then, don’t…”
You end the sentence on a gasp as he grabs your other thigh and works it up higher on his flank. The angle is perfect. He hits your sweet spot with every thrust. Every. Thrust. Gods, he is pounding into you now. Now. Now. Your hands fall above your head. Grasping at the headboard, you groan. You need solidity. You need solid…oh Gods, he is solid. One solid mass of man, thrusting, impaling….
His hair is wild above you now. He is balanced on your thighs and his knees, using his superior strength in his lower body to propel him. The smell of sex is strong around you, clinging to the air and the bedclothes. Flashes of lightning, drops of rain… thrusting, thrusting. You cry out as you feel the wave begin to gather you again. His size is growing within you. You can feel the expansion. This angle, Gods, this man!
He does not need to tell you. You can feel his impending eruption. You can taste it. He pleads you with his eyes, whispers words that you can not hear with your ears, but know with your heart. He wants you to join him. He wants you to come.
A hitched breath escapes you as you grab the headboard fully. You. Are. So. Close. He slides himself further into your thighs, grunting with need. You arch even more, allowing his gigantic cock to rub against your nub at the same time. Two thrusts are all that you need. White. Hot. Flashes. Dance across your eyes, grasp at your heart, allowing your breath to catch. A loud scream is heard from far away, lost in the fury of the storm now upon you, both within and without. Swirls of color. And then.
His voice joins yours. Shouting, yelling, pleading, and then a low keening groan. Your insides ignite with his hot seed as it jets into you. He thrusts for a few minutes, allowing his momentum to slow naturally. His body comes to a stop and he releases your thighs to allow them to fall to the bed. He eases back down on you, his hands helping to ease your tense muscles and teasing your hair back from your eyes. His gentle kiss again conveys his caring.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his heavy breaths interrupting his speech. “I didn’t hurt you, love, did I?”
A sighed laugh is all that he needs to hear before his great chest shakes in a controlled rumble. You take a deep breath as he rolls the two of you so that your back is to the window. Tears prick at your eyes as you know that he is keeping you joined to him the only way that he is able to. His body, even softened, makes you feel full inside. His sigh and kiss are powerful. “Thank you, little one.”
You nod, curling into his massive arms, into the warmth that his body offers and the cool night air steals away. You are tired. Warm baths, warm bodies and hot sex have stolen your wakefulness. You curl your hands into his hair, pulling him fully against you. Your small leg bends and lands between his. “Let us rest; there is time enough in the morning to talk.” You sigh, sleep chasing you relentlessly.
“Aye, morning will be here soon enough.” His voice rumbles above your head. “You are exhausted, little one- sleep.”
You nod, barely completing the move. And with the sound of rain, the smell of flowers swirled with sex, you drift into a dreamless, restful slumber.
The morning light wakes you slowly, gently. The sun’s rays on your face warm and awaken. With a sigh you stretch. The bed covers still hold the heaviness of the previous night’s storm and you quickly get out of them. Moistness is pleasant only in some situations. The room is empty as you turn to survey it. Except for a lone note, balanced on the pillow next to yours. A small Alderaanian blue rose rests on the cream parchment paper. You slide over to the flower and grasp it in your hand. It is the smell borne on the wind last night, amidst the ozone and the sex. You sniff deeply and turn your attention to the note. It is written in a fine form:
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Love,
Thank you. Take this flower, preserve it…it is the smell that you tried so hard to absorb into your soul last night. Remember me when you encounter it. I have been called away. I am sure that you have noticed this. It is not my choice to leave you; it is simply my duty. I will return and I wish to know you better. Do not think I will forget. I will not. I will return for you and to you; my word as a Jedi.
Yours, in my heart,
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You set the page down. And turn to clean the bath beyond, a gentleness to your soul and a smile etched on your face. He will return.