Wicked Game

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The sound of Anakin’s voice set the alarm bells ringing violently in my head. An unpleasant tingling pricked along my scalp and nape, the icy hot darts crawling over the tender skin like tiny spiders. The ancient response to danger skittered down the base of my spine before spreading out to invade my rapidly stiffening limbs. He had never sounded so authoritative before, so sure of himself. All traces of the impetuous boy who had looked so confused after I broke that very first mistaken kiss were gone and I had the uncanny sensation the reigns of control had somehow slipped from my hands and landed in his.

No, it was more like they had been wrenched from my unsteady grip, I corrected myself with dismay. A rising panic blossomed in my belly like an erupting volcano.

Years of diplomatic training withered away under the onslaught of power emanating from Anakin. The tables had turned and I was at a loss to explain exactly how it had occurred. Suddenly I was fourteen years old again but instead of finding myself outflanked by a Jedi Master over three times my age, I was being stared down by a barely twenty year old Padawan. Such was my confusion; I actually took a few obedient steps towards him before the arrogance of his demand hit me like a slap in the face.

I gave a confused shake of my head, desperately trying to ward off the bizarre desire to just submit to his will and go to him as he was commanding. Poisoned words coalesced and I opened my mouth to put Anakin in his place in much the same way I had done in full view of the queen and her advisors. But the scathing verbal cut meant to chastise him for his insolence died on the tip of my tongue. The feral gleam in his eye stole my attention, my breath; my very thoughts. The harsh words of protest about to be wielded like a reliable weapon simply refused to come under Anakin’s compelling stare.

I despised the weakness he inspired in me but to my dismay found I had no mental tricks left to counter it.

Not satisfied with my non-response, Anakin let his hot gaze wander from my face down the length of my body with a lazy impudence. There was no pretence of it being anything but a sexually charged appraisal, appreciative but insultingly frank. The indignant noise I made brought his roving eyes back to mine, a heart stopping lascivious smile hovering on his lips.

Overly conscious of the way the shimmersilk clung to my body now that Anakin had made me so painfully aware of it, I quickly drew the edges of my robe together with fumbling hands and then wrapped my arms protectively across my middle. I prayed the dim light was hiding the embarrassment heating my face.

Hot resentment flared and burned. I hated that he had this affect on me. No one else could make me feel so unsure of myself, so utterly gauche. Anakin was barely out of the figurative schoolroom, how dare he exhibit this kind of poise and control when I was rapidly reverting to a trembling mess!

“What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night. Is something wrong?” I finally thought to ask; scrabbling to make sense of his unannounced visit and the disturbing vibes he was sending out. My attention was caught by the movement of his hands as he drew something from behind his back. He was holding what I thought was his Jedi robe, the material a dark waterfall against the lighter color of his sleep pants. I dismissed the sight as inconsequential, more concerned as to why Anakin was not bothering to respond to my nervous question. It was not a good sign.

My eyes strayed back to his face, carefully searching his tense and guarded features. Perversely, I found myself desperately wishing he was there to tell me of some imminent danger instead of what I knew deep down he had come for. Threats to my life seemed so much less complicated than threats to my heart.

Death over dishonor, Padmé? Don’t be so foolish.

Remember who you are, my inner voice hissed. Senator Padmé Naberrie Amidala will not be cowed by a Jedi Padawan. Drawing myself up in as regal a stance as I could manage, I coaxed a disdainful expression to my face. Looking down one’s nose at a Jedi who is over a head taller is not an easy task, nevertheless I somehow managed it. Unfortunately my tone did not match my haughty demeanor.

“If you came to see if the storm was worrying me, you needn’t have bothered.” I said. A slight tremor warbled, belying the cool formality I had hoped to express. I gritted my teeth in self-disgust and tried to squash the increasing worry making me queasy.

Please, just leave. Don’t push me any further.

Why did he just stand there? If he were wise he would take the opportunity I was giving him and bow out gracefully. I could have saved my breath. He took my proffered ready made excuse and swatted it aside like it was an irritating insect.

Anakin’s eyes creased in a kind of derisive amusement and I immediately bristled with annoyance. “Oh, I didn’t think the storm would frighten you, milady. I have a feeling you like the wildness, the unpredictability.” He murmured the last word meaningfully, his humor melting away as he regarded me intently.

How was it possible to put so much innuendo into so simple a word? Milady. Anakin had taken to calling me that when he felt I was treating him like a child or when he . . .

"I think I rather like to hear you beg, milady."

My throat convulsed. This is not happening. But it was. And what was worse, my body was readily responding to the electricity we were sparking off of each other despite the frantic messages of warning my head was trying to impart. While desire and caution battled for supremacy, I remained fused to one spot. My indecision coupled with my crumbling resolve was my downfall.

Ever the impatient and impulsive boy, Anakin tired of waiting. Seeing I was not going to come any closer to him of my own accord, he took matters into his own hands and bridged the distance between us. His long legs brought his lean frame within centimeters of mine - all in the time it took for me to draw a single breath. I stepped back abruptly only to feel the door knobs press hard into the small of my back – a mocking reminder that I had no where to go; that it was too late to escape what was coming.

Sullen eyes glowered down at me almost menacingly. His bold stare penetrated the dimness; part threat, part longing. The resulting indefinable emotion pulsed beneath my skin and caused my breath to come short.

“Tell me, who else have you worn this for?” Anakin drawled softly. My puzzled gaze fell to the fist full of black leather he brought up. I realized with a start that what I had supposed was his cloak was actually the evening dress I had left draped across the chair by the fire. He must have retrieved it when he had crossed the room to scare me senseless.

I fidgeted uneasily under the weight of his disapproving stare. All my misgivings at wearing such a revealing dress reared back up to jeer at me. I had worn a gown designed for seduction, at least the appearance of it, and with the one man I could not allow myself to give in to. A guilty flush stained my cheeks - and this time he was close enough to see it.

“Padmé.” Anakin barked, bringing me back to my present surroundings with a jerk.

My gaze bounced away from the supple leather being held like a denouncement before me and back to Anakin’s face. Unspoken accusations and an underlying layer of hurt warred there.

“Who else have you worn this for?” Each word came out as brittle as chipped ice.

I did not see the reason behind the question until too late.

“I . . . wore it at a Senate reception I attended for the ambassador of Corellia.” Bewildered confusion colored my reply as my penchant for telling the truth damned me. “And a banquet, a banquet I attended with . . .” My voice trailed off as it suddenly occurred to me why he was so interested in my social life.

“With who?” Anakin demanded with deceptive casualness. Beneath the conversational intonation lurked a fermenting unrest I did not fully understand. It was as if he had taken all his hurt and pain and pushed it down into a tight ball that was now threatening to explode at the slightest provocation. Something was telling me that to give away the identity of my escort would serve as the combustible to his volatile explosives.

“It – it doesn’t matter.” I said, subjugating the truth for once. He really did not want to know the answer to his intrusive question. “Anakin, I think you should go back to your room.”

His mouth tightened at my evasiveness but he did not try to pursue any further the identity of my companion. Any relief I felt was short lived. It instantly became more than apparent he had other things on his mind and leaving was not one of them.

Anakin leaned slowly forward, his forearm coming to rest against the door just above my head, his fingers lightly threading through strands of my unbound hair. I could not move for the simple fact that the only thing holding me upright was the solid surface at my back and the burning blue eyes holding me prisoner. Anakin’s face was so close his breath stroked my cheek and ruffled the wispy strands of hair framing my face.

“This is what you wear when you are so determined not to ‘give into this’?” Acerbic bitterness tinged his question and I winced. “Do you have any idea the affect you had on me in this?

“I . . .” But what could I say when I had already berated myself for wearing an outfit that sent the exact opposite message from the words falling from my lips. “That was not my intent.” I finally managed. Tomorrow, I decided, the damn dress was going to be thrown out.

Anakin snorted disbelievingly and then swiftly tossed the dress aside as if disgusted by the sight. I did not spare it a glance. I was entranced by the level of desperation and anger being exhibited. The rawness of his emotions was a stunning revelation. I knew in a shocking moment of clarity that I could doubt everything else, my role in the universe, my own feelings and instincts, what was right and wrong, but to doubt that Anakin wanted me with every fiber of his being was a fool’s errand.

The very surety of my realization did not sweep away my deeply ingrained reservations. Instead it magnified all my fears and doubts. To be the object of someone’s all consuming desire was absolutely terrifying – even if there was unvoiced reciprocation. Anakin was unique and dangerous in a way I could not quite put my finger on. There was something . . . off about him and I could not but help remembering Obi Wan’s reluctance to take him on as a Padawan.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Anakin’s now free hand came up to cup the side of my face, his callused thumb first caressing the curve of my cheekbone before drifting to lightly trace the outline of my lips. I heard my name but knew it had never passed his lips. The incredible abilities the man before me possessed sent a renewed frisson of fear through me. He had an aura of danger about him that was at once repellant and alluring.

“Do you know how much I wanted to untie those laces?” Anakin’s fingers traced a slow path along the length of my neck, coming to rest just above the place where my heart beat like a trapped bird. “To peel the dress away and feel the warmth of you against my hands?

A clever trap baited with potent words. They went straight to my head like the intoxicating fumes from strong, sweet wine.

Anakin’s voice dropped to just above a whisper. “Do you have any idea how much I wanted to taste you?”

Heavy lidded eyes, previously intent on watching his fingers explore the exposed skin at my neckline, lifted and bore into mine. A thousand glimmerflies took wing in the pit of my stomach as scorching heat unfurled deep inside me. My rock solid resolve to do the right thing was wavering under his smoky gaze. He was seducing me with his touch, his words, and the ravenous adoration that shone in his eyes. The transformation was complete, the boy I knew to the man I wanted.

My sensory perception went into hyperdrive. Every one of my senses honed in on a certain scent, sight, sound and touch. The hundreds of blue variations in his slumberous orbs stood out like burning beacons in the gloom. I could smell the cold panes of glass, the odor of old wood and paint, the scent of rain seeping in through some invisible chink, but most of all, I could smell the clean male scent of Anakin as his body heat radiated outwards and wrapped me in its seductive embrace.

“It was just the two of us.” Anakin gently pried my unresisting arms away and slipped his warm hands inside my robe. They curved over my hips, stroking me with practiced skill as if he had done this a thousand times before. And I did nothing to stop him. I let him bewitch me; I let myself fall under the spell of the burning path of fire his touch left in its wake.

A warm lassitude was spreading through my limbs making them feel leaden and weak. Anakin encircled my waist possessively, hands canting my hips closer to him. “Only two of us and yet you wore a dress that was begging to be removed. Did you ever ask yourself why?”

“Anakin.” I moaned warningly even as my senses zinged with the darts of desire lancing through me. His touch was forging new paths along the unchartered territory of my body. The decadent things he was doing, the wicked things he was saying; never in my life had I thought I could feel so many things at once.

//A taste of what’s to come//

His words echoed in my head, pulling me from the trance.

No, it is not right . . . it is all wrong and on too many levels to count. I had to make him understand that before he stole the rest of my rational thoughts. One large hand skated up my ribcage and cupped my breast through my nightgown. A mewling whimper I could not control sounded in the back of my throat, bringing a gleam of triumph to eyes that studied my reactions with a riveted intensity. The scent of lust filled my nostrils and breathing suddenly became a chore my lungs refused to perform. I was drowning in a sea of new sensations. Some part of me tried to refuse the invitation to succumb but the effort was doomed to failure even as I tried to form the words to tell him so.

“Don’t . . .” The rest of my sentence trailed away into nothing under the wilting influence of Anakin’s mocking smile and the feel of his fingers dancing patterns lower and lower. He pressed himself against me and I inhaled sharply as his hard length made itself known more forcibly.

Lips brushed the shell of my ear, his hot breath caressed me. “Don’t, Padmé? Then why don’t you stop me?”

Anakin’s arrogant challenge hovered in the air. I struggled against the drugging tide of desire racking my body. Every passing wave dragged me further under its hypnotic influence. Memories from the picnic surged and fought their way to the surface. I had been so near to giving in, to breaking the rules that governed my life - rules that kept me safe and free of unwanted encumbrances and untidy emotional entanglements. Anakin was disturbingly close to making me forget everything again. I had to stop him, to stop this before it was too late. For when I had warned him our being together would destroy our lives, I had really meant I was afraid it would destroy mine.

The decision to act was instinctive. My hands came up to push at the smooth expanse of bare chest blocking me in. I shoved hard - prepared to take refuge in the nearby refresher once I gained my freedom - and achieved absolutely nothing. Anakin was immovable, a solid mountain of muscle and bone. A low chuckle that held no real amusement rumbled from my captor. His smooth skin vibrated ominously beneath my splayed hands.

“I don’t think so. There won’t be any running away this time.” Anakin drawled. The smugness of his tone crawled under my skin. Too late I remembered his reaction to the way I had fled from him after pushing him away in the meadow. Now the memory of the chase through the trees, the way he had hunted me down so relentlessly, was all I could think about. At the time my distress had been enough to break through his blind anger when he had inevitably caught me but I sensed there would be no such reprieve this time.

Any further attempts at protest on my part were doomed to abysmal failure. Anakin’s face descended so rapidly I had no chance to react before his lips were roughly covering mine. The hungry kiss tore away at my already shaky defenses, dissolving them like wax in a flame. Desire burned bright, blinding me to everything but the arousal searing my senses.

Anakin’s mouth was hot and sweet, his searching tongue skillfully and easily enticing my lips to part for his passionate invasion. There was no escaping the consuming fire. Anakin was the walking embodiment of temptation and I was more than susceptible. With a moan of defeat I kissed him back, meeting the persistent onslaught with a hunger of my own. But I still had enough presence of mind to use every last ounce of strength to keep him from crushing me to him.

Anakin felt my resistance and was not pleased. He reluctantly broke away, but drew the kiss out by sucking on my lower lip just a little longer before releasing me completely. An impatient growl caught in his throat and his resulting jagged breathing accompanied his fierce words and hard grasp.

“I know you, Padmé. You don’t think I do but you’re wrong.” His hold loosened slightly and he started inching backwards, taking me with him. The clutching of his fingers at my shoulders changed from punishing to gently encouraging as if he were gingerly cajoling a sleepwalker back to safety. “I’ve known you since the moment I saw you. Do you remember what I asked then?”

“Are you an angel?” A child’s voice floated up through the mists of time.

“Yes, I remember.” I whispered, lost in the disturbing mix of sweetness and unease the memory inspired. A heavy sensual fog clouded my head and I reluctantly let him lead me as his voice lured me on.

“You won me that day. I was blinded by you. Your beauty and strength of spirit, your sense of justice, and your honor – all of it made you different from anyone I’d ever known. But I know the secret you as well.” I stared at him dumbly, not liking the way his words were so closely echoing my earlier thoughts; the ones I had entertained when I was alone and contemplating the wild Naboo night.

“It must be so hard . . . holding all of it inside, never letting your true self out.” Anakin continued. His slow, steady voice and sympathetic words were like bacta on a burn, soothing and cool. Despite knowing better, I let him gently guide me away from the potential sanctuary of the refresher and towards the glowing embers of the dying fire – closer to the bed. “You don’t always have to be the strong one, Padmé.”

The empathy, the understanding in his expression reached a part of me few were aware existed. It was like having your worst secret drawn out and not only accepted but forgiven. The promise of a haven was being dangled in front of me like priceless jewels before a courtesan.

We reached the foot of the bed but it barely registered on my conscious for I was lost in the maelstrom emanating from the Jedi intent on my seduction. Everything Anakin was whispering to me was a promise wrapped in comfort. I was so tired of fighting this hold he held over me and in my weariness I started to believe in what he was saying.

I wanted to believe.

I needed to believe.

“It could be us against them. All you have to do is let me in.” He said, continuing to weave his enticing spell, offering his help in lifting the weight from my shoulders that seemed more and more an intolerable burden. The low cadence of his voice was mesmerizing.

But as he pulled me towards him, my internal warning system sounded loudly in my mind. Stop him, stop him now! Just a few minutes my heart sang in response. Yes, a few minutes and then I will think again of my responsibilities and reputation; just a little while longer then I will remember why exactly I am not supposed to allow this familiarity. Surely by then the reasons why this is wrong will come back to me and I will be able to call a halt to it all.

Fool.

The sound of my pounding heart was overridden by the loudest roll of thunder so far. The tattered edges of my composure crumbled and I jumped; my involuntary jerk so violent I almost pulled free of Anakin’s restraining hold. Immediately his fingers tightened, his grip moving from merely restraining to one bordering on the edge of pain.

Perhaps he thought I was trying to escape again. His beguiling ways instantly vanished and with an abruptness that left me stunned, Anakin bore me backwards, pushing me against one of the thick posts at the foot of the massive bed. The carved edges dug uncomfortably into my flesh through the thin protection of my gown and robe. A dark thrill, twisted and bent, curled and writhed inside me. Anakin pressed closer and a sweeping sense of the inevitability of it all hit me hard.

“It wouldn’t be like it was with the others, Padmé.” His voice was rich and heavy with its drowsy sensuality.

Others? The small niggling seed of confusion brought a furrow to my brow but before it could take firm hold, Anakin’s hands were back at my shoulders and the thought slipped away along with the marginal protection of my robe. The heavy velvet slithered down my body, making a soft swishing noise as it flowed against the silk of my nightgown, before finally settling at my feet in an expensive puddle of blue. The cool air kissing the newly exposed bare skin jarred me from my muddled thoughts. But when I belatedly tried to move to the side, to escape his overpowering closeness, Anakin merely stayed me by sliding his hands around my waist, his hold an unbreakable chain.

A low groan escaped from us both as Anakin nuzzled his roughened face against mine, his spicy scent teasing my senses. The slight abrasiveness of his skin rasped against my ear and cheek. His hands were everywhere at once, his touch scorching me through material that offered little to hinder his roaming caresses. My breath came in harsh little pants, the growing excitement my body insisted on listening to frightened me with its power.

One of my hands was grabbed and dragged down to the bulge straining against the front of his pants. Anakin guided my hand to stroke him, ignoring my attempts to wrench away. At the feel of him, so rigid and hard, so utterly male and unfamiliar, I stilled – a flood of embarrassment and shock knifing through me. Everything was moving too fast and my panic and innate shyness welled up like a bubbling fountain.

Anakin lifted his head from where he had been kissing my neck. His annoyance at my reluctance showed in his rather petulant expression. I bit back the urge to apologize when I had no idea why he was so disturbed. Unlike the other day, he was treating me as if all this were commonplace to me.

“You can stop pretending, Padmé. You know what to do, what a man likes.” He crashed through my thoughts with all the subtlety of a rampaging shaak. Sparking blue eyes held me in a kind of horrified immobility, his misguided beliefs wounding me far more than I normally would have allowed. But without my usual defenses I was vulnerable to his slings and arrows. “I can’t say that it doesn’t bother me but you’re here with me now. And this time it isn’t about alliances or treaties, this is about us.”

"You really don’t like politicians, do you?"

It had been a teasing comment then but now it was apparent that he thought . . . Several Naboo curse words tripped to the end of my tongue as vitriolic recriminations filled my head. How dare he think such things of me! The arrogant, stuck up, smart-mouthed child! And I had been on the brink of giving in, to throwing my morals and beliefs to the wind under the influence of his charm and honeyed words. Was all this just a way to get into my bed? A bed he obviously thought had been shared before. And what if it had, my mind sputtered. None of his actions came close to hinting at inexperience on his part. An unexpected wave of jealousy pierced my heart.

Others! I seethed inwardly. Indignant anger and unexpected hurt continued to color my thoughts. No more. I was through with whatever wicked game Anakin was playing. I did not know where he had learned to play it, nor did I understand the rules but I decided I was going to bring it to a halt. I wanted everything the way it used to be – normal and placid, with no one constantly hammering away at my defenses and working to stir up exhausting foreign emotions to confuse and disturb me. And my first reactive step was getting the insulting, insinuating Jedi out of my room.

My heel came down hard on top of Anakin’s bare foot. The damage was minimal but it gave me the element of surprise and using a defensive technique remembered from a session with Captain Typho, I twisted my hand free in a sly maneuver. Normally I did not care for violence but I shoved those reservations aside, balled up my fist and hit Anakin as hard as I could across the jaw. Or at least I tried to.

With his eerie ability to second guess my movements, Anakin jerked his head back just in time to avoid the full impact of the blow. There was a harshly growled curse and the next thing I knew I was being picked up none too gently and roughly tossed onto the mattress.

“Truth hurts, does it?” He practically snarled as I flew through space.

Everything happened so fast. One minute I was on my stomach, starting a quick crawl towards the nearest edge, the next Anakin had grabbed my ankles and flipped me onto my back. One hard yank and my body slid back down to the foot of the bed, the hem of my night gown rucking up around my hips to leave my legs completely bare. The sight held his fascinated gaze far too long and I squirmed and kicked out, trying to get away.

Anakin’s hands closed around my thighs. Flesh slid against flesh as they moved higher. The mattress depressed beneath his weight as he hefted himself up, knees strategically placed either side of my legs, effectively trapping me. By the time I had the presence of mind to try and stop his ascent; Anakin was on top of me. The weight of his body pinning me down was like a heated blanket, simultaneously oppressive and comforting. Once again I felt the frightening proof of his need pressing against me, ridged and thick, separated now by just his thin sleep pants.

A surge of adrenaline lent me some strength but soon my flailing fists were subdued and I was staring into the infuriatingly amused face of Anakin. My incoherent sputters of rage were cut off when his mouth once again closed over mine. This time his lips were bruising as he sought to dominate me with his superior strength. The weight of him crushed me to the mattress, stealing any breath I had left from his brutal but arousing kisses.

Struggling proved exhausting with the hold he had on me. He had me trapped and he knew it. Even the heavy bedclothes pillowing my head were used to his advantage. If I tried to turn my head away from his punishing lips I was met with a wall of thick linen that threatened my air supply.

I was growing dizzy when he finally relented. Anakin moved from my swollen lips to trail the line of my jaw and then the slope of my neck. Between my desperate gasps for air, I heard his disjointed whisper brush against my flesh.

“I’ll make you forget anyone who came before me, Padmé. You were meant for me, I’ll prove it to you.”

The swirling strokes of the painted orange and yellow sunrise, faded but still vibrant, stared down at me from the ceiling. A languorous tide of arousal was rolling through me, gentle at first then with increasing strength. Anakin’s teeth nipped at the skin just above the rapid pulse beating at the base of my throat and my neck bowed sharply. Reason was rapidly dissolving. I was simply reacting now to the delicious things being done to me.

Would it be so bad to give in this once? Do you have a choice, a darker voice asked tauntingly.

Somehow my hands, released from Anakin’s restraining hold, found their way to clutch the back of his head, though I had no memory of them doing so. Giving into temptation, I threaded my fingers through the spiky softness of his hair, urging him closer, silently asking for more – more of everything.

It was all so very wrong and in the morning I would regret giving into my body’s demands but right then I no longer had the energy or will to care.

Anakin’s clever, nimble fingers were plucking at the silk ribbons holding the front of my gown together. Every time one was freed from its loose bow, his tongue snaked out to christen the newly revealed flesh and an appreciative sound would rumble in the back of his throat. The warm, wet rasp of his tongue nearly drove me insane with want. He was taking his time, drawing out the moment, torturing me with the anticipation of his next unknown move.

When the last ribbon was released, he reverently parted the material to reveal my naked breasts and flat abdomen to his smoldering eyes. Anakin pulled back, his gaze roving slowly over every dip and curve laid out before him.

“Beautiful.” He breathed. Warm finger tips began a slow exploration, the feather light touch sending a low current of electricity jolting along my already overly sensitized nerve endings. Anakin was looking at me as if I was a priceless piece of art and he was an experienced connoisseur. More than uneasy with the raw need reflected in his expression, I dropped my hands from where they had come to rest on his broad shoulders and fumbled with the edges of my gown, shyly trying to pull them back together.

“No.” Anakin stopped me before I could cover myself back up. His hands gently but firmly forced mine back to their original position at his shoulders. A crooked half smile, similar to the one that had graced his face when he had first kissed me, slowly appeared.

My face was aglow with the novelty of being partially nude in front of a man but Anakin put it down to a different reason altogether. A cloud passed over his face and then his smile turned to a hatefully snide smirk.

A finger ran down my heated cheek. “Very pretty. Do you put on a similar act with all your lovers?” He asked. The jealousy lacing his nasty remark made me flinch but I was not about to let him get away with it.

“Are you as insulting with all of yours?” I shot back.

Anakin glared down at me, his lips compressed into a tight line of annoyance at being called out for the same behavior he was accusing me of indulging in. A dark light shifted behind his eyes and my head fell back against the mattress in tired defeat. I could not keep up with his mercurial mood swings much longer.

“Always the quick wit, milady.” He murmured throatily and then he lowered his head and licked a path from my navel to my breast in one long sweep.

“So sweet. So mine.” He said. The possessive way he spoke the last word sent a shivery chill through me.

"Destroy our lives . . . destroy our lives . . . destroy our lives . . ."

“Anakin.” I started, only to gasp as he nibbled sharply at the underside of one breast. My fingernails dug into the flesh of his shoulders and a muffled grunt reached my ears. When his lips closed around one hardened bud all coherent thoughts, every word I had ever learned, ceased to exist. Hot and cold tingles raced through me, dispelling everything; the slurs on my character, the aspirations cast on my morals, the mired of reasons why this should not be happening – everything. The only thing that mattered was the feel of Anakin’s mouth at my breasts, licking and sucking each in turn with such primitive lust it would have frightened me had my mind been close to working properly.

A dull, throbbing ache started up between my legs, intensifying with every tug of his hot mouth on my flesh, with every kneading caress of his hands. The lightning outside was nothing compared to the bolts rocking me internally. Inarticulate noises formed in my throat and mingled with the harsher groans coming from Anakin.

Fragments of sensations shot through my awareness in a haphazard whirl. Skin dewy with the gloss of exertion slid together in perfect synchronization. Anakin’s clean scent surrounded me; it was in my nose and his taste was in my mouth. Light stubble grated against the tender skin of my breasts. Muscles flexed and bunched beneath my exploring fingers.

I began to feel like Padmé had never been. All that existed was Anakin and the way he was loving me, worshipping my body with his hands and mouth. There was nothing else and there never would be again.

With no warning, a jolt of exquisite pain lanced through my body. The loud cry dragged from me tapered off to a choked gasp. Anakin lifted his head, his eyes heavy with arousal and arrogant male satisfaction. He studied my face for a long moment suspended in time, carefully watching every nuance of expression that crossed my features.

My breathing was choppy and ragged as I struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

“Did that hurt?” Anakin asked me in a voice as thick as honey.

Words refused to come so I nodded, staring back at him with a growing sense of . . . anticipation? Fear? A disturbing mix of both? I closed my eyes and tried to gather the shattered remnants of my already fractured composure back together. I felt rather than saw him lower his head once more.

I had just begun to relax as his tongue soothed the area just savaged when he repeated the act and my entire body tried to arc off the bed. This time I screamed as the fiery pleasure-pain slammed into every nerve ending I possessed. Colors of all hues danced in front of my eyes and I forgot how to breathe. I forgot how to think and reason. Then Anakin was there, just as he always was, his face hovering right above mine.

A shadow flitted behind the bright blue of his eyes.

“It hurt but you liked it, didn’t you?” I swallowed the lump in my throat and concentrated on breathing in and out. There was nothing more that I wanted than to be able to look away from his hypnotic gaze but I could not tear my eyes from his. Nor could I deny what he knew to be true.

Anakin’s lips brushed mine. “Should I do it again?”

A trickle of wet heat wended its way from my body. Desire thrummed in my veins, spilling like liquid fire. I exhaled a pent up breath in resignation and my eyelids fluttered shut under the weight of my imminent surrender.

“Yes.” I sighed and yielded to the inevitable.