Rating: R / NC 17
Archive: Pandora’s Box
- anyone else (WHAT? You’re crazy enough to want this?
Floors me - but: Sure!) Just ask. :o) )
Spoilers: Hm. I don’t
think there are any - you saw TPM and AOTC, didn’t you?
If not (gosh - where have you been living the last few years
anyway?) go - do so before you read this. :o) Even though GL’s
TPM Obi kinda sucked in terms of sexiness in the first movie.
I’m gonna give him the ‘extremely cute’ award,
though. *g* Now, the AOTC Obi is a whole different matter .
Summary: " . . . there
had to be a way make him forget to be his normally so very uptight
and stand-offish self . . ."
Disclaimer: Now, come on -
be realistic. Of course I’m not earning any money from
this - who would give me any? For this? *snorts* I just like
to play with the characters GL has created (and then decided
not to do anything really interesting with them. *g*
) No, don’t cry, George. I still adore what you’ve
done - and I’m deeply grateful for you doing it. *g*
Feedback: Yes. Even though
I fear the outcome of this plea - but please. PLEASE! Come on
- writing two lines and then hitting the "send" button
isn’t all that hard, now is it?
Author's Note: No connection
whatsoever to my previous story
I just wanted to test the waters, see if I could
write something that was rated "a bit higher" as well.
Hm. Ya think it worked?
Oh - and this plot bunny attacked me on the
train. For crying out loud, on the TRAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay,
well. Go ahead and laugh at my misery.
Warning: Okay - now if you’ve
found this story and know my previous work - don’t be
shocked. I’m not gonna be writing this kind of fic all
day long. Promise. :o)
Dedication: Yvonne - your fault,
solely, sweetheart. :o) I started writing this one just for
your new site. And Sleepwalker - because you encouraged me and
helped me more than you can ever imagine in terms of not being
shy. :o) (Think it worked? Doubtful, Watson, doubtful . . .)
definitely, definitely, definitely
to human behaviour
but yet so, yet so . . . irresistible"
- Human behaviour)
Colours blurred as the people crowded the room
- the light tapping of their feet on the shiny floor as they
danced, the sound of their laughter, mingling with the deep
rhythmic pounding of the music. The air was humid and warm,
filled with the scent of the bodies pressing together and the
scent of the spices all of the small finger-food trays were
People knew what those spices were, what secrets
they hid. They mildly loosened the inhibitions, heightening
the senses to smell, touch, sound and sight, deepening the sensual
side of everyone tasting the small delicacies.
Shrugging, he popped one of the small squares
into his mouth and enjoyed the sensation of the spices exploding
on his tongue, leaving a sweet aftertaste. This was not going
to affect him, he was sure - he had been trained to cope with
mild drugs. The taste of it, though . . . Just for an instant
he had felt the heated rush of the spices, had seen their power,
before he had thrust it back. Losing control was not an option.
A friend had invited him - and he was beginning
to wonder why. The atmosphere was charged with the hum of recognition
floating through the room, the unshielded minds throwing out
sparkling electricity into the Force.
Checking his mask for the umpteenth time, he
exhaled slightly. It was still in place - no one was recognising
him as he moved through the crowds of people, slowly and gracefully.
Indignation about constantly controlling himself
welled up inside of him. Sith, he didn't even know what actually
had made him come here, especially since coming here had asked
for a lot: A mask, a voice-modulator and a close fitting black
outfit which he had been given. It hadn’t taken him all
too long to pick the mask, but the voice modulator had taken
some getting used to. But it served its purpose, masking his
natural voice perfectly, turning it into a deeper, less accentuated
This night, his friend had told him, was a night
in which you let your usual personality outside the entrance
door. The night of the two moon’s eclipses and its concept
was unique to him and he couldn’t have say that he had
been quite clear on the concept until now.
Watching the people move through the room, the
lights low, the faces hidden behind mysterious, breathtakingly
beautiful masks, their sensual dances, their bodies close, their
carefree laughter, he felt the overwhelming current of playfulness
that reverberated in the living Force nudging him, teasing him.
It slowly managed to ease his doubts about this certain event.
He felt no darkness, no evil, nothing. Nothing but the minds
of all those individuals, throwing out their energy, their passion
into the Force.
He couldn’t help but thinking about her.
Thinking about her warm smiles, her lithe movements, her deeply
sensual aura . . . Thinking about what had been revealed to
him two years ago - her true age, so close to his own, making
her suddenly desirable in a way that still made him shiver inside
and curse himself. The way he would never be able to hold her
the way he wanted to, because she was not within his reach.
For a while he mused why his friend had made
him come here at all. Had she known how all of this was going
to affect him? Had she done it on purpose?
His eyes scanned the room, taking in the men
and women; the men clad in black while all of the women wore
deep emerald coloured garments, close fitting, not hiding anything,
but not giving away too much either.
There was a reason for the relative uniformity
in these garments. This was not a night of regrets. The uniformity
was vital for those men and women who wished to stay anonymous.
His musings continued. All of the people had
left their usual personality in front of the door. Why hadn’t
A low hiss next to him reminded him of his friend’s
"Get in the mood. Open your eyes."
He sighed indignantly. "I assure you, they
are quite open," he replied dryly.
"I very much doubt that."
His chin was seized in a slim hand and turned
towards the dancefloor. "Either your eyes are closed, or
you are completely blind."
Seeing what the woman holding his chin was motioning
towards, his eyes widened. She picked up on that and grinned,
"You need to get all of that unresolved
tension out of your system. You need to forget her. Get it over
with. Do what your body tells you to do. Remember: No regrets.
This is just one night. One which will most likely not come
back for the next century. Only one night in which everything
is allowed." She released his chin and allowed her hand
to skid over his face, tapping his masked forehead slightly.
Her hand moved down to his heart and then, just
as he thought he’d gotten enough of a hint to be comfortable
with, further down to his groin.
A smug grin, and she was gone in a whirl of
emerald and feathers.
Under the mask, he could feel himself blushing.
She was sweet and innocent at times, nearly making him forget
what a little devil was hidden behind the beautiful face. And
maybe - not that he would ever admit it to her - just maybe
she was right. Just what was so wrong about trying to be normal
for a change? To act on his instincts, rather than ignoring
them for the greater good? To purge her images, still floating
around his mind, with the picture of someone else?
He sat down on one of the black chairs that
surrounded the bar and looked at the dancing people.
When he finally found the woman his friend had
showed him earlier again, he drew in a sharp breath. Now that
was . . .
He quickly sipped at his drink.
The woman dancing on the far end of the crowd
was undreamt of. Long, jet-black hair moved in wild curls around
her masked face as she danced untamed and carefree with her
eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to the hungry stares she was
eliciting. The tight emerald dress she was wearing was just
a little different from the ones of the other women; not enough
to be recognised by a mere bystander, but definitely made to
be seen by the one she had chosen to show it to. The mask covering
only her forehead, eyes and nose was an elaborate mixture of
gems and gold, hints of wine-red velvet and feathers in a deep
shade of oceanic blue. He thanked all the powers in this universe
that this mask didn’t cover her lips. Full, deep red lips,
worth every sin he could think of.
He swallowed hastily, realising that his hand
had cramped around the bar, knuckles turning white. It was so
hard, trying not to imagine that this could be her - that those
could be her lips, smiling in that dangerous way that made his
breath hitch. Letting go of the bar proved to be quite an effort,
for she chose that very moment to open her eyes.
He was falling. Clearly and hopelessly falling
into those eyes - even though they were opening about 10 meters
away from him, he could see them as the pools into depths never
explored, into waters which were so deep that he might drown
Green. An intense green, piercing his soul.
Making absolutely clear that this wasn’t her, that it
never could be. This wasn’t the brown he had been hoping
for. But what did it matter? Why didn’t he just stop thinking
and start acting on what his friend had told him? Enjoy himself,
finally getting her out of his head, his every thought, his
A pleased smile appeared on the masked face
and she slowly wet her lips with a small, spade-shaped, pinkish
tongue. Wetting perfectly shaped lips. It was enough to confirm
Probing her carefully with his skilled mind,
he found that her imprint in the living Force was barely there
- her shielding tight. Remarkable. A smile tugged at the corners
of his mouth at the challenge she would be.
She was trailing a hand over her thighs, no
doubt to smooth a crease in the gown. Yet the simple movement
made his heart quicken. She stared directly at him, transfixing
him with a deep green gaze, repeating the movement more slowly.
He realised that he had stopped breathing. Was
she doing this on purpose? Did she realise that he was watching
her? Had she realised his probing?
A wink of the green cat-eyes gave him the answer
It took him all the strength he had to force
a smile, for his jaw kept insisting that dropping to the ground
was a good idea.
The smile that he got in return nearly made
him hit the wall.
'Who ever said a flirt wasn't dangerous?',
he thought, having trouble not to fall off his chair when she
slowly walked up to him.
Her movements were dangerously sensual and slightly
feral - just like her dance, slow strides, showing the sway
of her hips. The crowd parted in front of her, as though they
were feeling the immediate demanding of respect this delicate
beauty called for.
Spellbound by her moves, he became oblivious
to everything and everyone around him.
His hands frantically searched for the bar to
hold onto again, then found his glass and decided that it was
a good moment to have a quick shot before he was actually trying
to say something. He knocked his glass over in his haste, cringing
as it fell to the ground with an audible clink. 'Get a grip,
By the time he looked up from the floor, she
was gone. His eyes flew over the dancers, but he couldn't find
her. Frustration gnawed at him.
'So much for my charms', he thought
wryly. ‘Never think of yourself as all too important.'
Maybe it was about time to call it a night,
and try some of those Katas which had bugged him all week long.
Maybe that would bring him to his senses. Or this visual overload
was going kill him if he ever dared move off this chair again.
he should have known that it wasn’t so easy to forget
someone he had been dreaming about for more than two years now.
His control slipped as he tried to purge her
image from his mind, tried to make the blood flow back to the
places where it was needed, instead of still flowing to the
places where it was most inconvenient right now.
One drink and then home.
No. Definitely not his night.
He was just about to order another drink, when
the touch of a soft female chin on his shoulder and her breath
on his neck caused him to jump.
"Care to dance, Mister?" a husky female
voice asked, soft accent stretching the word dance.
The air left his lungs in a whoosh as his whole
body tensed up. 'Say something.'
"Lost your voice?" Warm breath brushed
past his collar, making it feel too tight. The sound of her
voice made it hard for him to concentrate on what she said.
"Not quite." ‘Very
eloquent, Kenobi,’ he chided himself. Deciding that
it was time he took advantage of the situation, he turned around
with a flourish, took her hand and smiled: "You’ve
got yourself a partner."
He made a mental note to thank his friend for
knocking him on his ass.
They moved to the dancefloor - and again the
crowd made way for her until they both found a spot in the middle
of the heated bodies around them, turning their attention to
"When were you planning on acting on your
thoughts?" The husky voice drifted closer as she circled
He tensed fiercely at the implication. Had he
been broadcasting? When had his shields become so weak? Most
of all - did she know what he had been trying to do?
A low laugh reached his ear when she saw the
deep blush colouring his cheeks, her full lips revealing a perfect
line of white teeth, glittering in the dim light of the hall.
By the Force, just looking at those lips made
his thoughts fall into a dizzy haze that covered every coherent
thought that might have been left in his mind. Her aura swirled
around him, sensuous, dangerous. The music slowed to a softer
song, still carried by a pounding bass and he watched with amazement
as she came closer to him with a smile on her face that was
nothing short of devilish.
Not a second later she was pressed against him
full length, not an inch separating their bodies, and he had
to suppress a low moan at the feel of her warm curves pressing
against him. This wasn't the way he was used to when dealing
with women, but some rather basic instincts told him not to
care about that and enjoy it as long as it lasted.
He started to lose his contact with reality,
when her face inched closer to his ear breathing a sharp hiss
into the shell: "No regrets." Placing his hand on
her waist, she moved her own hands down to caress the small
of his back and behind slowly.
He drew in a sharp breath. This was getting
too much. The long legs all but twined with his as they danced,
her hands rapidly started descending to places of which she
just had no right to know about - no matter how much
he wanted her there.
"I . . ." A pathetic croak was all
he could squeeze out of his suddenly much too dry throat. Swallowing,
he tried again: "I don't want to seem rude, but shouldn't
we know each others names, before we go any . . ."
Her hand ascended from its place under his shirt
to put a warm index finger over his lips.
"Names are not important," she whispered
in his ear, tracing its form with the tip of a soft tongue.
"Well then," he said, suppressing
a shiver and realising once again that his voices sounded hoarse.
He was at a loss. What had happened to his famous ability to
make a witty remark in every possible situation? Shaking himself
out of his stupor, he said: "There are two possibilities:
One, I tell you something I was always told: Never talk to strangers,
especially not when you don’t know their intentions."
That incredible smile lit up her face again
as she roamed her hand over his chest, teasing the tender skin
of his nipples until it all but screamed for her touch. "And
"We get out of here as fast as possible."
The smile was just in her eyes this time - flashing
up at him. Acting as a promise of things to come.
"I’ll consider that," she answered
and pulled away from him, leaving him to fight the hormonal
disaster the closeness of her body had caused.
"Who is she?" His voice was low and
flat when he grabbed his friend roughly by the arm, pulling
her out of the immediate reach of a guy looming over her.
"Kenobi, you’re a damn killjoy,"
she scowled up at him, flashing the guy behind her an apologetic
smile. "What’s wrong with you? Didn’t I tell
you to have fun?"
Her eyes raked over his figure and she noticed
with delight the way the clothes she had provided him with accentuated
his body - muscles stretching taut over a lithe frame almost
without effort, deepening the grace he carried himself with.
Although she was his friend, she was far from being blind. She
knew the way thoughts of that body had given sleepless nights
to many women close to her. Too bad that he was dreaming of
someone else . . .
Suddenly she sniffed and her eyes widened under
the half-mask. "You went for it, didn’t you? Or do
you usually wear a woman’s perfume?"
Shaking his head and tightening his grasp on
her arm, he ground out: "Listen, Sabé, don’t
play with me. Who. Is. She?"
The young woman’s eyes sparkled at the
fierce determination in his voice. "Are we talking about
. . . her?" She pointed at the dancefloor and a grin slowly
spread over her features, when she felt his hand on her arm
tightening. "Just when I thought you were a totally hopeless
case . . ."
She shook her head and looked a bit defeated.
"Can’t help you, I’m afraid. I don’t
She saw his clear eyes disappearing under the
dark lashes and heard a sigh as he turned away from the dancefloor.
Apparently his lady for the night had started dancing with someone
"What did I do to deserve this?"
"One smart-ass comment too many?"
she offered, moving away from the playful swat he was aiming
at her shoulder.
He looked dejected and slightly forlorn - making
her heart constrict in pity.
"Come here." She motioned for him
to get closer. "I’m very proud of you, you know that?
You’re really doing well." Moving a soothing hand
over his cheek, she tried to get his full attention.
"Well, does me a whole lot of good, doesn’t
it?" His mood rapidly swirled into a dark, brooding scowl.
She sighed. As long as he didn’t think
of the woman in his dreams right now, as long as he didn’t
withdraw to his shell, there had to be a way make him forget
to be his normally so very uptight and stand-offish self.
She reached for the tray next to her and retrieved
one of the small squares.
"Open your mouth."
He rolled his eyes and sighed. "This doesn’t
work. You know that."
A smile tugged at her lips. "Really? Or
do you just not want it to work?"
For a few seconds, he just stared at her - the
gaze not giving away whether he was offended, annoyed or simply
at a loss for words. Finally the deep green-blue eyes slipped
"Do you have to give me this talk, too?
You sound like Yoda." He sighed and opened his eyes again
to gaze at her with a look of pity that could have melted rocks
and would have felled every other woman in an instant.
Unfortunately she was about the only female
totally immune to those looks.
"Know that right I am, you do." Hiding
the gentle bribe in her words was impossible and he grinned
down at her fragile form.
"One of these days . . .," he threatened
good naturedly. Before he could finish the sentence, she had
stuffed the small square into his mouth, closing it with two
"Nu-uh," she protested when he was
about to pull her hand away to take the spicy, crispy cookie
out of his mouth. "Chew. Enjoy. Don’t fight it."
Her eyes became threatening, spitting dark fire
when he kept tugging at her hand. "For once in your life,
Kenobi: Do as I tell you!"
Making her angry was not a good idea, never
had been. He swallowed without thinking as he thought of the
years he knew her, and knew about her temper - the spices exploding
on his tongue again. This time he felt their heated rush.
The grin returned to her face, becoming a bit
more suggestive. "It’s not supposed to make me
A blush crept up his cheek and she chuckled
softly, resting her hand on his flushed cheeks and gingerly
trailing her thumb over his lips, knowing fully well that she
was the only one who could ever get away with this.
"Do it. And don’t think."
She pushed herself up lightly and placed a quick
kiss on his cheek.
A smile flickered across his features. "I’d
still like to know who she is."
The delicate woman in front of him shook her
head and sighed. Was he ever going to learn? "Remember
that if she wants to remain anonymous, it’s her right
to do so. But if you turn on those famous charms of yours, maybe
she’ll tell you."
She winked at him and pushed him back to the
dancefloor. "And please leave me alone for the rest of
the night, could you do that?"
He flashed her a grin and disappeared in a cluster
He saw her walking through the crowd of people,
moving slowly and sensually in a way that made his whole body
scream. Not usually being a man for a fast adventure, he couldn’t
help himself this time. Maybe it was the second helping of the
spices and he wasn’t quite so good at deflecting its effects
after all. Maybe it was the day: The full eclipse of two moons
triggering something in his body. Or maybe it was just the constant
absence of a woman in his life. Here was a woman who could finally
make him forget about the images that came up to plague him
ever so often at night. Dreams that made him wake up soaked
in sweat, calling out her name afterward, his skin sensitive
to touch for hours. He had to do something to be rid of this
obsession, or his most private thoughts would become obvious
to others sooner or later.
He knew that what he was doing was wrong - wrong
in the context of the moral restraints he had put on himself
- for the Jedi order surely didn’t put its knights into
Maybe Sabé had been right and he really
hadn’t wanted the effects of the spices until now. But
seeing her for the second time made him forget about that, for
he wanted their effects now. Desperately wanted them.
He had known it was wrong from the very first
moment he had looked into those green cat eyes of hers. Not
that it did him any good, though. The thoughts brought back
the memories of her delicate hands on his body and he was hard
pressed not to simply push aside the people blocking his way.
Without making a conscious decision, he followed her out of
the main dancing hall, leaving the hot room into the slightly
cooler, moister night air of the gardens.
She met him there, the dark curls dancing around
her masked face and a slight lustre of perspiration glistening
on her cleavage. He picked up on the way her warm skin smelled
and mingled with her light perfume. He saw the way the green
garment revealed more of her form than it had first appeared.
He couldn’t say how he managed, but somehow
he found some words. "I’ll take it that you’re
It was supposed to be a simple teasing, rather
smart-ass comment, but it didn’t quite come out as one
when he saw her slowly moving closer. This situation and all
it could lead to was something he had missed for far too long
in real life. The night held promises he only hoped it could
keep. Hoped that he wouldn’t suddenly wake up to discover
this was another dream.
He could hear his heart pounding in his ears
when she circled him again - applying fleeting touches to his
chest, his uncovered lips, his exposed neck and his behind.
This was unbearable.
Reaching out, he caught her by the waist, pulling
her flush against his chest, eyes wild and hungry, telling her
clearly that this was no game to him. She was taken aback for
a moment, then he heard a throaty laugh bubble up and she threw
her head back, allowing him access to the tender column of her
His mouth slowly descended, nipping on her skin
ever so softly, scraping the velvet-like tanned skin that pulled
taut over high collar-bones with his teeth. For the first time,
he felt her reacting to him, her hips moving closer to his,
and her hands moving to his neck, holding him closer to her,
shifting her body to give him better access to it.
Despite all the rushed urgency, the meeting
of their lips was almost coy. She pulled back playfully several
times, moving her head out of the range of his soft lips. When
they finally met it was her decision - not his. Lips sliding
against lips, softly playing, teasing.
Until he decided that he had had enough and
urged her mouth open with persistent licks and bites.
He hadn’t been prepared for the sensation
that followed: Hot, wet warmth, tasting sweet and spicy, clouding
over his senses completely.
A thought crashed his mind: This was how she
had always tasted in his dreams.
And just as though she had picked up on his
mind wandering away from her, she grabbed for the back of his
head; pulling him closer and deepening the kiss with a frustrated
growl. She was sliding her tongue against his aggressively and
pulled back in an instant, again and again - until his body
was quivering with need.
He was hanging to the last shreds of his sanity
when she finally gave in and allowed their kiss to resemble
the passion that coursed through his body. His lips bruising
hers, barely leaving her time to breathe, claiming her, marking
her - now that she allowed it.
Low, soft sounds coming from her throat, her
body warming up under his touch, her smell growing spicy - it
was all he could take. Grabbing her waist tightly, he lifted
her off the ground, moving her legs to twine around his back
and moving them both until her back hit a wall and he could
take advantage of all that wonderful skin.
He wanted to stay like this forever, nibbling
and teasing her soft skin, eliciting sighs from her. He wanted
to run away as the depths of his passion hit him - the way her
images actually blurred the ever-present ones of a woman he
would never have like this. But most of all, he wanted more.
He wanted to finally get off that mask and look at her fully.
As he tried to fulfil his plan, she caught his
hand, moving it away from her mask with quiet determination.
The smile tugging at her lips was definitely
feral now. She moved her hips for just a fraction, slowly grinding
against him, moving her hips slowly, languidly, brushing against
him and she felt him stiffen even more than before, trying again
to claim her lips.
Again she stopped him, placing a finger across
his lips. Without thinking he pulled the slender, long finger
into his mouth and she was rewarded with a hot wetness she was
by now well familiar with from his kisses, teeth scraping along
the line of her index-finger, tongue twirling lightly around
it, acting as a promise of the things he had in mind.
But he was holding back still, still wasn’t
showing all the passion he was capable of. Shaking her head
in indignation, she moved her hand down to stroke him hard through
the fabric of his dress pants, causing a low moan to rise from
his throat, his hands clenching in her hips reflexively as he
tried his best not to thrust back up at her.
"Don’t . . ." It was no more
than a strangled plea, really. "Don’t do this to
Her hand stopped moving and she moved the other
one to cup his face lightly, her eyes wide open and inquisitive.
"What do you want, then?"
He slowly eased her to her feet and then trailed
his hands to the back of her neck, where he knew the mask was
fastened. "Let me see you."
Her hands shot up, letting go of his face and
gripping his wrists like a vise. "No."
"Please." His mouth descended to her
ear, softly breathing in the words over and over again, like
a chant. His right hand moved possessively to cup her breast,
teasing slow circles over the sensitive skin still hidden under
the green fabric of her gown.
"No." It didn’t sound quite
as strong anymore.
His hands wandered down her body - and with
a movement that was too fast to register, her skirt was hitched
up to her waist, giving him full access to her long legs. For
a nanosecond he saw fear flickering up in her eyes at his suddenly
so very demanding behaviour. The flicker disappeared, though,
when he latched his hands onto her thighs, the friction of skin
against skin clouding over the green eyes with urgent need.
"Let. Me. See. You."
Each word was being punctuated by his hand moving
just a fraction higher on her thighs, coming closer to where
he felt incredible heat rising. His eyes pierced hers deeply.
Her voice definitely wasn’t steady anymore,
but her determination was still there - unwavering.
"You’d have to come up with something
far better, to . . ."
The rest of her sentence drowned in a helpless
whimper when he touched her, somehow bypassed her underwear
and touched her so intimately that it was all she could do not
to cry out.
Finding her scorchingly warm and ready for him,
he eased nimble fingers over her most sensitive areas - fleeting
touches that made her whimper for more.
"Good enough?" he teased, moving achingly
slow - to finally dive his slim finger into her. She stiffened
for a fraction of a second and the incredible eyes that had
just been mocking him fluttered shut. A breathy moan escaped
her as she felt him moving deeper into her and she started writhing
against his hand, urging him to fulfil what this slow torture
Her reaction made him quiver with need and he
inserted another finger, stretching her, mimicking the way he
would take her, moving possessively inside of her and along
spots only someone familiar with her body should have known.
Sharp intakes of breath accentuated the heat he felt from her.
Her hands moved to his hips, frantically searching
for the fastening of his pants, brushing against his straining
What did he think he was doing, torturing her
in return for his own torment? His breathing sped up, not quite
elegant for his task. Not now. Not now!
Good grief - those lips. He had to have those
lips . . . With a quick dip he submitted to his own urges and
pulling her delicate hands away from their price, he dove for
her lips, opening them in a frenzied kiss, leaving her breathless,
panting. Her reactions towards him were most arousing - the
erratic breathing, the way her body arched to meet his steadily
thrusting fingers, the barely comprehensible moans . . .
The low whisper under her breath suddenly made
him stop moving, an icy shiver creeping up his spine. Despite
his more than slightly clouded over mind and distinctly straining
body-parts a feeling of dread ran over him. His whole body went
rigid. Why did this perfect stranger know his name?
"What did you say?"
Her eyes flew open and she felt the need to
cry out in loss as his fingers stopped moving and then quickly
moved out of her to ascend to his own mask. Without taking much
time, he simply discarded it, revealing red-golden eyebrows
accentuating a handsome young face and shocked blue-green eyes
which reached for hers.
"Let me see your face."
The aura of danger around her faded slowly and
slight fear rose into the green cat-eyes. "No."
"You knew who I was. I think I have a right
to know who you are." His voice seemed to be light and
teasing, but there was an undercurrent in it - dangerous and
clearly stating that he was doing his damnedest to keep his
temper in check.
For a few seconds he allowed himself to enjoy
the slight look of fear in her eyes.
Still, he wasn’t taking the mask off her
face himself. This control wouldn’t be worth anything,
though, if she didn’t obey his wish soon. The need to
find out who was hidden under that mask, to find out who had
just driven him thoroughly out of his mind was overwhelming.
His gaze burned into hers, demanding obedience
- accepting nothing else.
Finally, what seemed like eternities later,
she moved her slightly trembling hands to the back of her head
and slowly pulled the mask down, hiding her face in the mass
of dark curls.
"Look. At. Me." There was
no denying him, and he knew it. This certain tone of voice had
made politicians and royalties rush to obedience.
Her face rose slowly, so slowly that he could
take in every feature of the face that had been hidden behind
the mask, inch by inch. Perfect, unblemished, pale skin. Royally
arched eyebrows. Deep, chocolate coloured eyes with long lashes.
A small, shapely nose. Full red lips, not quite hiding a quiver
He reached for the next best thing to steady
himself, gripping her biceps tightly. This wasn’t possible.
He had to be dreaming again. He had to be dreaming. Just had
to. For if this was real, he deserved death or worse . . . .
Clearly shocked, he let go of her, all but pushing
her away from him. "What do you think you’re doing?"
While still fighting his own body, screaming
at him to forget about his mind and touch her again, he also
felt slight nausea rise at the thought of what he, they,
had done. Why hadn’t he felt it before? He never would
have . . .
Fighting the sting upon hearing those words,
she smiled bravely. "No regrets, Obi-Wan."
Suddenly Sabé’s words echoed in
his mind. "Only once in a century."
How many nights during the last years - since
he had found out about his mistake about her age - had he been
lying awake, dreaming of this? Dreaming of her body writhing
under his, of her whispering his name in the throes of passion?
How many hours had he spent watching her from the shadows, from
the corner of his eye - whenever possible? Then why . . . why
was he still thinking about whether he wanted to take the chance
or not? Now that he knew for more than a year that she was barely
two years younger than he was? Now that all of his dreams were
- at least legally - open to fulfilment? Now that she was acknowledging
"Why?" He had to know. There was no
way around it. Still his body betrayed him, and his fingers
started rubbing small circles on her wrists. It was all he could
do to not simply pull her close to him again. He quivered inside.
She was too close to him, too damn close to keep his hands off
She inched her body closer, growing bold by
the way he already started to relax towards her.
"Because I . . ." She stopped and
hid her face again, suddenly getting shy for some insane reason
which made him want to give a snort of laughter.
Now she was going shy on him? The circles
he was rubbing on her wrists became bigger as he relished more
and more in the feeling of her soft skin - suddenly available
to his touch. The words she whispered under her breath were
so low that he nearly missed them. But it was the earnestness
in them which made him stop dead in his tracks.
"I wanted you. Tonight was the only chance
I saw to ever have you."
The confession sent him reeling. She wanted
Reaching for the back of his head, she claimed
his mouth in a kiss that was feathery soft and so much more
like he had always dreamed their first kiss to be like. All
soft lips and scented warmth, holding nothing of the feral danger
that had surrounded her earlier. This was her, and this was
her gift to him. She was laying her feelings open for him to
examine - yearning, loneliness, passion, fear . . . But there
was more to that kiss - despair. She didn’t only want
him. She needed him. Had needed him for far too long.
This time was over now. He knew it by the way
her hands moved into his hair and her heart beat close to his.
By the way her breathing became shallow and ragged whenever
they came up for air. By the way she encouraged him to take
her - body, mind and soul. She was giving her consent through
the Force, finally dropping her shields.
"Why like this?" he finally managed
to choke out. His whole body hummed with recognition, it was
growing harder not to just crush her against him and do what
she was coaxing him to do - knowing fully well that she wouldn’t
resist, even welcome it as a relief to the unbearable tension
which had built between them like a backdraft. But this was
more important now.
Her pupils were dilated when she looked up to
him with the eyes that - now free of the mask - were a dark,
sensuous brown again. Was she fighting tears?
"I needed you. Somehow - finally. I didn’t
know what else to do. It didn’t matter how, or where -
it still would have been you. It is you." Her
hands clawed into the front of his shirt, unconsciously teasing
his skin once again - drawing a sharp hiss from him.
"Don’t deny me. I’ve waited
too long." A lone tear slithered down her cheek.
The single droplet and the sentence shot straight
through his core. Too long? Meaning exactly what? Had she .
"What are you saying here?" he rasped
as he wiped away the tear, letting his hand linger on her cheek.
"How many more times do I have to say this?
I was never allowed to acknowledge my feelings for you, but
. . ."
A thin veil of memory was cast over her eyes
as she remembered all the moments in which she had been forced
to fight her feelings. In which it would have been so easy to
just reach out and touch him - but they had never been alone.
All the nights in which she had dreamed of his lips and his
hands and his voice, his soul to shroud hers and give her understanding,
passion, true feelings . . . She shifted and pressed her cheek
into his palm, looking steadfastly into his eyes, holding his
"Two years are a very long time when your
body and mind are screaming out for someone."
With this she dove for his lips again, capturing
them in a searing kiss full of desperate need which confirmed
that her words were true and her hunger was real. Her nipping
at his lower lip, plundering his mouth, duelling with his tongue
- it was all he needed to understand.
She wanted him. Wanted him, needed him! The
waves of joy made him dizzy. And suddenly there was no more
wrong in that, as he picked her up, carrying her to his room,
keeping the promises of the night, and not regretting a single
nip at her lovely skin, not regretting that it was his name
on her lips when they made love until the day dawned. Not regretting
the fact that having her meant opening his soul for devastation
once he allowed his feelings to surface.
Losing control didn’t seem to be a weakness
anymore - and even if it was, he didn’t care. For he knew
that she was feeling the devastating effect of their pent-up
emotions ruling their bodies, minds and souls as well. But together,
and only together, they would be reborn. Stronger. Better.
He felt her drifting into a blissful sleep while
he stroked her dampened hair, clinging to her back. She was
basking in his warmth, curling around him as though afraid he
Long strands of silky soft hair were draped
over his chest where her head was resting. Her warm breath fanning
his torso, her arms tightly locked him in place. She was not
taking the chance of him leaving. The promise not to leave her
again was something she had repeatedly coaxed him to give.
He had to admit that he was glad she didn’t
use these special methods of coaxing someone for the
greater good of her planet. This was solely for him - had been
made for him. The passion she was capable of still awed him,
even as she lay in his arms now, sleeping peacefully.
A thought rushed through his mind and he smiled.
Little devil. She had probably known all along.
He knew there had been a reason for inviting