An Anakin/Padme Vignette (Completed)

“You must take every precaution, Padme,” Bail urged, leaning forward in his seat to glare at her. “This is real! Captain Typho should be up here right now, guarding you!”

Padme sighed. Anakin had been right. The Besalisks.

“Bail, I have told you already that I know all about it and the Jedi are sending Anakin Skywalker over right now,” she soothed, hoping to get rid of him. A glance at the chronometer pointed to fifteen minutes already gone. Anakin would be pacing like a Yavin panther, ready to devour the poor, noble senator!

“Then, where is he?” Bail huffed, crossing his arms and sitting back before Padme could stand up to indicate their meeting over. “I have no qualms about Skywalker but he should be here! You should not be alone!”

“She isn’t alone, senator, I assure you,” a voice just this side of chilly announced from the doorway. “I am right here, as you can see.”

“Skywalker!” Bail exclaimed, standing and rushing to shake the Jedi padawan’s hand. “I didn’t even hear the lift!”

Dorme, who found herself standing just behind Anakin, looked confusedly at the lift behind her. How did he get in without her seeing him? He had to have walked right past her!

“I am a Jedi,” Anakin shrugged in explanation and shook Bail’s hand, pasting as cordial a smile on his face as he could offer. “I am trained to be inconspicuous if I have to be.”

“Good job!” Bail was impressed. “Please impress upon the senator here the seriousness of this latest information!”

Anakin tamped down the urge to force throw Organa out the window for interrupting his pleasurable torturing of Padme. The warning glare from her locked it firmly into place and he nodded. “As you can see, Senator Amidala is aware of the danger, sir, and knows that she has the best protection in the galaxy at her disposal. The Nubian guards are well commanded by Captain Typho.”

Padme suppressed the desire to gag aloud at his drivel. He was talking about himself, not her Nubian protectors! And he was right. No one could keep her safe like he could! Now, she had to keep Bail safe from Anakin!

Right then Padme caught Bail twitch a little, his hand swatting at his neck. His head swiveled to look around him in the air and Padme started. Anakin.

“So you see, Bail,” Padme smiled disarmingly, taking her arm in his, “you have nothing to worry about. I do, however, appreciate your concern for my safety.” As they passed Anakin’s ramrod straight body Padme turned her head and glared at Anakin whose face revealed nothing. Padme executed a fake yawn and put her hand against her mouth. “Oh, goodness! Pardon me, Bail.”

“No, no, my dear,” Bail patted her hand in the crook of his arm, “pardon me! It is late and you should be in bed.”

Anakin noticed a spark of delight in the force. It came from Bail and his silent mirth at his phrasing ‘you should be in bed.’ Anakin simmered at the implied ‘with me’ and followed them to the lift, just waiting for another crack like that. If it came…

“Again, Bail, thank you for your concern,” Padme smiled. The diplomatic smile she used when desiring to get away brought a pleased smile to Anakin.

Bail leaned in to kiss her cheek and promptly jerked back and swatted at the annoying, biting insect again. The lift doors opened and Anakin moved closer, forcing Bail to no other option but retreating into the lift.

“Do not worry, Senator Organa,” Anakin bowed to hide the mocking smile toying at his lips, “I will protect the senator at all costs.”

Bail nodded absently and was still looking in the air around him for the insect as the lift doors closed.

Smug with victory, Anakin turned to Padme. Vexed, she glared at him with warning eyes and flounced away into the room. Dorme hovered in the room, waiting for instructions. Anakin sensed Padme’s desire to slap him and grinned. Sometimes he liked a little rough play from her.

“Senator, you may go to bed,” he offered with another bow. “I will be here to watch out for you.”

Padme turned, the thought of taking Dorme into her room with her for a while squashed when she remembered how the air in the room might still be permeated with their antics. She nodded, dismissed her handmaiden and stalked into her room. Anakin walked around the room reaching out with the force for anything amiss. Let her cool off, he thought gleefully. When I don’t come right away it will drive her nuts.

His mind turned to Organa, dwelling on the senator’s confusion between his friendship for the senator and his unwilling attraction to her. If Anakin weren’t the jealous type he could sympathize with the guy. But, he WAS the jealous type. At least with Padme he was, and he’d waited too many years for her to feel any sympathy for would-be suitors. Bail’s lucky I didn’t run him through with my lightsaber.

Once certain all was safe, Anakin sat down on the couch and lay his head back to let time pass before going to Padme and finishing what he’d started. He set his mind free to relive what had gone on earlier and lifted his hand to his nose. Her heady scent still clung to his fingers, his groin tightening in answering response. The animal in him charged the cage he’d fashioned around it, rattling the weak bars. Desire made him weak and strong, enticed him to surrender and dominate. Blood flowed lower, filling him to unbearable hardness.

Sith! He cursed himself. I am not waiting! If she thinks to deny me because of that vapid senator she can think again!

Padme hung the dress back in the wardrobe and loosely tied the sash to her robe. Delicate hands released the hair from its confinement and it tumbled down over her shoulders in dark, silky waves. She had been right to keep Dorme out. The aroma of their lovemaking still hung heavy in the air, tempting her body to remember how close it had been to freedom. A few more moments and he’d have been sheathed tightly inside her, pistoning into her, stroking her to the sweet pinnacle where only he could take her. It didn’t matter if he’d been her only lover. She knew no one else could do to her what he did. She loved him, wanted him. The thought of him inside her released a trickle of liquid heat down the inside of her thigh.

“I can smell your hunger for me, Padme,” the deep, low voice drawled from the doorway. “I can sense your thighs are damp with your readiness to take me into you.”

Padme breathed in deeply, letting his words fire in her blood. “And I can feel through the force how hard you are with wanting me, Anakin Skywalker. You want to subdue me to your will.”

“It shall be done,” he answered, strolling over to her, his lean body closing in.

“It’s already done,” Padme’s eyes lowered to his utility belt as her hands worked it free. Anakin stood still while she began divesting him of his outer garments once again until all that was left were his pants. Her eyes, dark and luminous in the shadowed room met his, communicating to him what she wanted, needed.

“No, not the bed,” Anakin shook his head, a feral grin pulling at his mouth.

A wide window seat commandeered the space along one window where Padme sometimes sat and thought of home, or political intrigues. Anakin thought it silly to have a window seat that gazed out on nothing but traffic, but in Coruscant there wasn’t much in the way of natural beauty to gaze upon.

Anakin’s eyes dwelt on the full, moist lips tilted towards him and lowered his head to taste them while his hands untied the sash with unhurried movements. The heat of his skin dizzied Padme and she forced her arms to her sides while Anakin removed her robe, letting it slide slowly from her body. She shook with unfulfilled need and curled her arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue over hers in a sensual duel of supremacy. He angled his head, his mouth devouring hers with unrestrained passion, his hands gliding hungrily down her back and over her buttocks, cupping them and lifting her against his hardness. Fervent hunger groaned from her, the deprivation of him shaking her body and buckling her knees.

Before she collapsed, Anakin swung her into his arms and laid her on the wide window seat. A fierce light glowing in his eyes, he examined his prize, the mass of sienna curls waving over her shoulders. His fingers itched to touch them and he pulled the tresses between his thumb and finger, rubbing the silky texture, pleased at its softness. Still, it was in the way. Anakin lifted her hair off her shoulders, his fingers brushing over her breasts, dusky pebbled nipples begging for his touch. She arched. Beneath lids hooded with lust, he stared at her, his hands discarding his last remaining article of clothing. Padme’s gaze drifted from his eyes to the proud jut of his swelling erection, her heart thudding at the sight. The proof of the strength of his desire (and the length of it!), shifted her legs apart, and he settled himself between them, the ridge of flesh sliding along the damp opening.

“Padme,” Anakin’s lips trailed from her shoulder to her neck to her lips where he bit lightly, “see the traffic out there?”

Padme, lost in the sensations of his mouth and hips that continued to work over her sensitive areas, could barely nod. Her hips pushed against his, asking for his possession and his head lowered to her shoulder where he gulped in steadying breaths. His own control slipped a notch a moment before he hauled himself back up.

“They’re going to see us,” he whispered down to her. “They’re going to see me take you and make you mine. They’re going to see your body writhing under me and know that you are crazed with wanting me. Speeders will fly by with only glimpses of my hips pounding into yours and your body undulating for more. They won’t know who we are or be able to tell which window it was, but for a moment, when I make you come, they’ll see your body shudder in the shadows. And only then will I pour my seed into you and make you completely mine. Only when you convulse and milk me will I let go into your heaven. So, let them see how you love it when I mate with you, Padme. Show them the animal you are in my arms.”

The hoarse, spellbinding words wove around Padme, her hips rubbing along his length for his ownership. “Take me, Anakin,” Padme whispered breathlessly, licking his mouth, “Show everyone who I belong to.”

Her capitulation so swift, Anakin rewarded her by sliding slowly into her. The moan from her rent the air and Anakin called on the force to disguise their identities and quiet their noise through her apartment. Completely anonymous to the traffic outside they began to move, losing themselves to the rhythm of the dance.

Anakin tunneled into the feel of moving in her, sheathing himself to the hilt, then withdrawing with just the bulbous tip of the head remaining inside. Every slow slide forward scraped along her hard button and stroked her sweet spot, eliciting whimpers and moans of desire. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he continued his slow-moving assault, her legs wrapping around his waist to ease the drive of her own hips to his. Words, lusty and sensual, licked around her ear, luring her to come with him.

“You feel so good, Padme,” Anakin’s lips caressed her ear. “I could stroke you all night long…”

“Noooo,” she interrupted with a protest.

“Turn your head,” he insisted, biting her neck, using his cheek to turn her face to the window. “Look at the faces out there. They see us, but not long enough. They want to watch us, but we’re in shadow. They want to get home or somewhere so they can fuck someone, too. They want this feeling. They feel our craving for each other and now they have it, too. See what we do to them?”

Speeders of all kinds sped by far from the window, but Padme could see quick flashes of awareness as faces passed and continued onward. In the process her hips still gyrated leisurely against his, keeping herself impaled on his hardness, refusing to set him free. She tightened herself reflexively and heard him hiss at the intentional massage. Through the force she felt their desire sparking in others, felt them diverting their intended directions to seek out their loved ones, or find hasty relief in the lower levels of the city. She wanted them to want it. He was carrying her with him on this nebulous wave, but she didn’t care. In that darkness that sometimes plagued him, his love for her still survived and burned. No one else could do this to him.

The rhythm quickened, his thrusts pummeled, and she cried out. “Yes, Ani, Yes! By the gods! Uunnghgh!” She urged him on, gripping and releasing him.

Anakin plowed into her rising up on his forearms to watch her mating wildly with him. Her arms flopped over her head, her hands grabbing the edge of the seat as she gave herself over to the waves of surrender rippling through her. Bending his head he captured a nipple in his mouth and suckled and bit it to the rhythm they danced. Padme screamed as the rush of her orgasm suffused her body, promising its nearness.

Gritting his teeth, Anakin closed his eyes and gave himself over to the promptings of the force to complete his possession. The rhythmic clenching of her inner muscles bathed his body in a sheen of moisture, the thrill of being in her driving him into a frenzy. His length grew and swelled inside her, every sensitive inch of him begging for implosion. The smell of sex, their sex, made him insane with stamping his ownership on her once again and he sent a wave of acknowledgment of this hungering lust and love for her into the passersby. Briefly, he glanced out the window and saw many vehicles veer out of the lanes creating new, crazy vectors that would surely crash their speeders if they didn’t get control of themselves.

Let them crash, he dismissed through clenched teeth and raced for the home stretch. By now Padme was grabbing for his head forcing it around to hers.

“Watch me!” She panted, her eyes bright, feverish with flecks of gold, “Watch me come for you, Anakin.”

Anakin couldn’t tear his eyes away. She gazed deeply into him, opening herself to his signature force, then with a cry, her back arched, her head dug into the seat, her eyes rolled up under her lids and she came, deep, convulsive shudders of ecstasy spiraling within her.

He plundered her body. Anakin’s hips quickened, jerking into hers, sure to leave bruises later. As her contractions continued to grab at him, he forced her orgasm on, lengthening and stretching it, until she screamed wildly at the release. Control slipping, he gave himself up to her, rubbing her overly sensitive nerves and slamming home. With a groan he made one last grab at control, but it wrenched out of his grasp and fingers digging into her hips, tilted her to receive more of him. With a wild shout he exploded into her shooting his life-making essence into her womb in hot, thick spurts of ecstasy.

Grunting, Anakin’s head snapped back as he savored their shared orgasm, holding still while she churned with the last waves. When he opened his eyes to the sound of her sobbing breath he lowered himself onto her, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her sweat slicked skin. Surprisingly strong arms banded around his neck and held him close. The room spun, charged with sparkles of the force that sparked off them like cut live wires. Anakin couldn’t contain the force created energy they’d made. It sizzled around them and he lifted his head and kissed her lips then smiled slyly down at her.

“Are you all right?” He asked, lifting a smug brow at her glowing expression.

“The gods are smiling,” she murmured up at him, a hand caressing up his side. He shivered at the languid hand. “You made them come, too.”

Anakin tipped his head and laughed, the sound carefree and happy. “Well, at least we didn’t make anyone crash…yet.”

“What do you mean…yet?” Padme asked, sleepily.

In response, Anakin began a stealthy campaign, pressing leisurely kisses over her face. In time, his tongue teased her mouth open and twined around hers, then moved to wherever on her body he could reach while still pressed deep inside her, hard and ready. As Padme recovered from the intensity of their passion, she began to reciprocate the kisses and caresses, moving sinuously beneath him. By drawing her legs up at different angles she encouraged him to start moving inside her.

“No,” Anakin tore his lips away, pleased at her squeak of protest. He stood up on the seat and pulled her to stand with him.

“What are you doing?” Padme asked, her body already flushing a satisfyingly rosy hue.

“This,” Anakin pushed her in front of him, pressing her body against the window. “Spread your legs.”

“W…What?!” Padme gasped, hardly daring to believe her ears.

“Spread for me,” he whispered harshly in her ear.

Timidly, she complied and Anakin bent his knees, centering his stiff member against her opening.

“Sith, Ani!” She groaned, her body lubricating at the idea.

“That’s right, baby, get wet for me,” he coaxed. With a rush, he plunged upwards, sliding in at an entirely new angle.

Padme reached out, hands flattening against the glass. With strong hands he lifted her farther onto him and pressed her into the window, his hips working at her from behind.

“Ooh, Anakin!” She murmured, unable to do anything but receive his stroking thrusts.

“Your punishment goes all night, m’lady,” he reminded in her ear and then bit her shoulder.

“I hope no one crashes,” she mumbled, whimpering at the tingling overtaking her body.

“All they want is what we want,” Anakin answered, smiling wickedly as someone ventured out of the speeder lane and closer, hypnotized by the bodies it saw in the window. Using the force he pushed the driver back into its lane and sped him along his way. Working one hand around to the front of her body he fingered her nerve bundle and set her bucking against his hand as he pumped into her.

“Punish me, Anakin,” Padme whispered, losing herself to his control. “Just…punish me.”

With a fiendish grin, Anakin set out to do just that.