Wicked Game

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The hoarse cry of my name still rang in my ears like the sweetest of music as I slowly made my way back up Padmé’s quivering form, muttering against her warm flesh all the wicked things I wanted to do to her in a language she didn’t understand. A great swell of pride puffed my chest and I considered smugly how I’d made her thrash and moan with my tongue; how her body had risen to my mouth with each shattering wave I’d wrung from her. I was confident I’d already succeeded in driving away the threatening apparitions of past loves and we had yet to get to the main course.

Padmé’s body gleamed like rich cream in the golden light cast by the dying fire, a sumptuous banquet laid out before me for my enjoyment. With lips still coated in the essence I’d coaxed from her, I kissed my way upwards, leaving the juncture of her thighs, moving over her flat belly, and then up the slope of one breast. I lingered a moment, enjoying the soft keening noises she was making, taking my time to trace both rosy peaks with the tip of my tongue. Everywhere my lips and hands touched, I imagined I was wiping out the ghost traces of another lover’s touch. Here and here and yes, there and there.

It took all my will power but somehow I managed to ignore the insatiable need clamoring for me to continue exploring every centimeter of inviting flesh. The need to be inside her was threatening to push every other consideration aside as easily as a bantha through a crowd.

The warm musky scent of her release mingled enticingly with the delicate perfume she wore, and the combined fragrance wafted around me, an arousing aphrodisiac driving my own desire to a fever pitch. I’d never wanted anyone like I wanted Padmé. The desire to be buried inside her was an overwhelming craving and I had to tamp down hard on the animalistic urge to forget all else and just plunge into her body and lose myself in the promised oblivion.

You have to make her forget. The persuasive voice rasped again, unrelenting in its effort to remind me of my purpose.

Melting brown eyes, glassy with sated arousal, followed me as I rose unsteadily to my knees and began to rid myself of my confining sleep pants. I kept my movements slow and deliberate; wanting to savor the moment, to draw it out so every detail would be burned into my memory – into her memory - like a lightsaber leaves its mark on metal. I would need that mental talisman to keep me going in the days ahead. For as much as I wanted it to be, physically making Padmé mine wasn’t the culmination of my dreams, and a seduction wasn’t the same as a commitment. I knew no matter what transpired between us, I would still have a battle of wills on my hands before I could claim her as mine in every sense of the word.

Having Padmé, learning the ways of her body, the sounds she made when she lost herself to passion, wasn’t the zenith of my hopes . . . but it was damn close; close enough for the time being anyway. Besides even Jedi have limits to their control.

And I had just reached mine.

A low, throaty growl vibrated from deep within me, escaping from the same niche in my heart where the memory of Padmé had burned for the past ten years. Something completely male, an ancient drive calling from a past that still resided in every man, howled triumphantly in my head.

Padmé’s breath caught in her throat under the blaze of lust flaring in my eyes and her hands started to flutter up as if to ward me off. The skin of my face stretched taut, thin as paper over bone and tissue, all sharp angles and hard planes. A crashing wave of uncontrollable hunger crested and broke, sending fire singing through me and I had to grind my teeth together to keep from crying out.

I didn’t - I couldn’t - bother to do more than shove my offending pants down to where my knees met the bed before nestling back down into the cradle of her thighs. The feel of her skin against mine was heaven and I pressed my aching hardness against the slippery cleft beckoning me forward as her firm thighs slid up my flanks in what to my mind was infuriatingly practiced ease.

The reality of Padmé was so much more than I’d ever imagined. A thousand fantasies had fueled my desire over the years but none could hold a candle to what it actually felt like to taste and caress her flesh, to have her beneath me flushed and trembling. I’d found my home at long last and I would fight tooth and nail for it. And yet . . . one nagging hurt was digging at me, marring this otherwise perfect moment; the insistent gnawing pain in my heart reminding me I wouldn’t be her first.

With that venomous thought the victorious flood of emotions slammed into a wall of doubt and my internal triumphant cry was silenced in favor of the hateful voice which refused me contentment. The empty hollowness in my chest echoed over and over while cruel taunting laughter filled my head. It seemed no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t escape the anguished knowledge that someone else had taken what was supposed to have been mine alone.

I pulled away from her enveloping warmth to stare down into the face that had enslaved me on first sight and coldness swept through me, freezing my blood, and slowing the beat of my damaged heart to a slow, heavy thump. With a cynical eye, I surveyed the beautiful dishevelment before me; pink tinged cheeks, kiss swollen mouth, chocolate tangle of disordered curls framing a face lit with desire, and suddenly I hated the dreamy expression, hated it because another man had seen her face soften and her eyes glow with that same rapturous wonder. Jealousy tore at my insides, the razor sharp claws carelessly shredding my heart into tattered strips. Completely oblivious, Padmé let out a drawn out sigh as her eyelids fluttered close and her hands slid over my shoulders, tentatively kneading my tension riddled muscles.

A ball of acid formed in my stomach, bubbling and burning, gluttonously eating away at the tender lining. Her sigh seemed to carry more than just a released breath. Was she imaging she was with another man? My stomach lurched violently at the thought and the simmering resentment which had been churning all evening reached critical mass. Any malingering feelings of arrogant triumph vanished in the swift conflagration, leaving a smoky ruin in its wake.

She was shutting me out! I had no way of knowing if she was thinking of someone else or if she were trying to distance herself from what was happening. Sharing was second nature to me, it was something I’d always done without hesitation or thought, but Padmé was mine, damn it! I wanted all of her, all the time, and I drew the line at sharing her - even with her memories. There would be no other men in our bed, I swore angrily.

“Padmé, no!”

My harshly snapped demand startled her and her eyes flew open. The question hovering in the twin pools of tawny brown faded with the rest of my words. “Don’t close your eyes. I want you to know exactly who’s inside you – that it’s me giving you this pleasure and no one else.”

Force help me, Padmé tried to say something then but I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. I smothered her attempted words with an angry kiss, effectively stealing her breath and defiance at the same time. An almost inhuman sounding groan reverberated from me, and then I was slanting my mouth over hers, coercing her lips apart, delving into the sweet, moist warmth that mixed so well with the faint intimate traces still clinging to my tongue. I couldn’t seem to get enough of her and I relentlessly deepened the kiss, sucking her tongue into my mouth, nibbling, stroking, and tasting, forcing her head back until the mattress refused to give any further.

A shudder wracked me as my straining erection twitched impatiently, begging to be allowed to plunge into paradise. Sweat was beading on my brow and my muscles shook with excited tension as I roughly pried Padmé’s hands one at a time from where they were clutching – or pushing? - at my shoulders. Without breaking the kiss, her smothered cries arousing and prodding me on, I deliberately laced our fingers together and then firmly pressed first one and then the other arm down against the mattress at either side of her head.

Once again I drew back, reluctantly releasing the mouth I’d been plundering so ruthlessly, nipping at her lips as our tongues untangled. Our jagged breathing drowned out all other sounds; the dying storm, the rattle of the windows, and the breathless, too-soft words tumbling from Padmé like a prayer.

A swirl of vertigo hit. I was drowning in the inarticulate whimpers and sighs, the incredible heat created as flesh melded with flesh; drowning in the scent of Padmé and of sex. Red hot shivers of lust raced straight to my engorged cock and I finally yielded to the desperate need hovering along the dark edges of my consciousness.

Now, the commanding voice hissed, it has to be now!

A guttural groan shook me and then I rolled my hips forward, sliding my length into Padmé’s giving flesh for the first time. And gods, it was so much more than I could have imagined - the unbelievable heat, the wet tightness of her walls squeezing me, seducing me with their addictive pleasures. I thrust deeper even as somewhere in my head a warning began to sound, part of me registering the stiffening of Padmé’s body, the ragged intake of breath which turned into a strangled little cry. In their entwined clasp, her hands clenched at mine in a grip of death, fingernails piercing my vulnerable skin while her neck arched into a sharp crescent.

All the telltale signs whirled around in my befuddled mind but failed to fall in place in time. Compelled by the driving primal need setting my blood on fire, I drove in and unwittingly broke through the undeniable barrier that separated an untried girl from a woman and didn’t stop until my cock was buried to the hilt, encased within her velvety core. Only then did I still, my body rigid with shock at what my mind was telling me.

Disbelief coursed through me. A virgin. Padmé was a virgin. The clues had been there for me to read but in my jealous stupor, my righteous indignation, I hadn’t seen them, had likely refused to see them. The phantom men I’d tortured myself with, and punished her for, dissipated like smoke in the wind. But my passion, my needful desire, remained a raging storm just waiting to be fully unleashed.

Still, I needed confirmation. I’d never been with a virgin before, not once.

“You’ve never . . . ?” I breathed half to myself, a kind of awed reverence creeping into my voice. Inside my chest my heart was threatening to explode from the whirlwind of emotions assailing me.

Padmé gave a minute shake of her head, tendrils of rich brown hair clinging lovingly to her damp skin, and then she gasped anew as my anxious body wrestled control away from my numb brain and instinctively ground against her of its own volition. And just as instinctively, her body arched upwards invitingly, pressing against me with wanton promise, and though I didn’t think it was possible, the action sent me slipping further inside her. I gritted my teeth together, the tendons in my neck chording and tightening as her pulsing walls massaged me with brazen enticement, practically begging me to proceed. A moan filled with a primeval desperation was torn from me.

A virgin. Why hadn’t she said anything? I’d given her a chance, hadn’t I?

I lay there burrowed deep inside Padmé, balanced between two worlds, waiting for the self disgust to set in, listening for the berating voice to start up, but neither made an appearance. The momentary doubts whispering through my mind came to a sudden and abrupt halt as I came to the dumbfounded realization that I didn’t feel what I knew deep down I should. I couldn’t bring myself to be sorry or apologetic. The guilty remorse which should’ve gripped me in a crippling embrace never materialized. I searched my conscience frantically – and found nothing remotely regretful. All I felt was triumph, satisfaction, and the overwhelming instinct to take, to have, to move inside her, to possess, to stake my claim and brand her as mine.

Not for a single second did I consider retreating. A virgin, the darkness crowed in delight and my only reply to it was an arrogant inward hiss. “Good.”

My head dipped down so my lips could graze the outer folds of her ear, my hot breath drawing forth an aroused shiver and a choked back rendition of my name.

“I’m sorry it hurt but I’m not sorry it happened.” I nuzzled the side of my face against hers, savoring the feel and texture as her skin slid along mine. “You won’t be sorry either, Padmé, I promise.”

The sultry smile that curled my lips sent another tremor through her as I shifted my weight so I could look into her eyes. Despite her denials, despite her determination to put duty and responsibility before all else, Padmé was there. She was underneath me, soaked and ready, with my cock gloved tightly inside her where no other man had ever been. Mine, shouted every cell in my body in a triumphant and primitive battle cry.

The first stroke brought a surprised gasp from between her parted lips and in the tangle of our hands her fingers tightened around mine in panicked apprehension. That betraying action more than anything reminded me to go slow, to ignore the carnal instinct to invade her without mercy. So I set a languid rolling rhythm of give and take; a slow steady stroking that soon had her flushed and writhing, a frenzy of panting cries working their way up to sing in my ears.

With each thrust I scrutinized Padmé’s face with avid eyes, noting every flicker, every subtle shift and nuance in her expression, almost daring her to look away. Brown swirling pools, darkened to black with newly discovered desire pulled me down into their alluring depths and I went willingly, sinking below the surface with animalistic grunts. I watched as I took the gift I had been so sure she’d presented to another. I watched as I desecrated her innocence forever. I watched and I rejoiced that my premonition hadn’t been wrong, that this beautiful creature was meant for me just as the Force had predicted.

As we moved together, passion didn’t even begin to describe the intensity of my feelings. I became convinced my heart would beat out of my chest, escaping its prison of bone and flesh as the feral part of my soul claimed its mate. With each plunge into her wet core, Padmé’s body answered the call, recognizing its other half, pulling me in, clenching around my pumping shaft with a hunger I knew all too well. The tempestuous joining of our bodies was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, needy cries mixing with panting breaths, and the sensual friction spawning sparks of heat and light before my eyes.

I ground against her tight bud with every downward stroke, stretching her, filling her to completion. A growl of male possession escaped me and at last I succumbed and gave myself free reign to increase the pace, imposing my dominance in the ancient erotic dance.

“This, Padmé, this is what that dress was worn for.” I purred in a voice thick with lust. “Some part of you knew it - knew what a man would think when he saw you in it. I should get a medal for the effort it took to keep from laying you on the table and having you right there for anyone to see.”

The provocative words worked their magic and Padmé suddenly tautened, bucking hard, her fingernails digging once more into the skin on the backs of my hands as the first quakes began to ripple through her.

I crashed my lips down over hers, my tongue thrusting into the silky heat of her inviting mouth, drinking down the sweet screams as her inner muscles clenched violently around my throbbing hardness. The feel of Padmé coming undone triggered my own release, the building pressure exploding in a miasma of brilliant colors behind my eyelids and a fiery crackling zinging through every nerve ending like jolts of electricity. Shudder after shudder shook me as my seed erupted into her waiting warmth in thick, hot spurts. I threw back my head, a roar of exultation vibrating along my vocal cords as her silken walls milked me, greedily taking everything I had to offer until there was nothing left.

We came to rest in tumble of sweat-kissed skin, lungs laboring for every breath while our bodies trembled from the aftershocks of our joining. I buried my face against the downy skin of her neck, absorbing the scent of sexual surrender enveloping us, basking in the drowsy afterglow seeping into every limb. Contentment colored my thoughts leaving me as lethargic as a sated beast of the wild.

I reluctantly untangled one hand from Padmé’s, wincing slightly as her fingernails released themselves from where they had broken through my skin, and awkwardly pulled the sheet over us to ward off the middle of the night chill creeping through the room. The sensation of a palm skimming sleepily down the slope of my back, a soft mumbling of my name brushing through my damp hair was the last thing I remember before the gaping maw of exhaustion dragged me down into the black void of sleep.