Wicked Game

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“Alas, hearts do not in eyes shine,
Nor can you more judge woman’s thoughts by tears,
Than by her shadow, what she wears.”

John Donne


“It could be us against them. All you have to do is let me in.”

The memory of Anakin’s seductive entreaty scudded along the shadowed fringes of my mind like a spectral wraith and despite the heated body fit snug against my back, a cold shiver of apprehension wended its way through me. Outside the storm had finally ended but within my heart another one brewed.

What had I done?

I struggled to swallow the rising lump of panic threatening to choke me while my macabre mind haphazardly attempted to make some sort of sense of the events leading to my current predicament.

It was all a blur of disjointed images and scenes: the sudden storm raging like a banshee, Anakin watching me with dangerous glittering eyes, the kiss that had stolen my breath and all chances of voicing any believable objections, and all those things he had murmured to me in that voice, that smoky voice that had set off such violent flutters of desire deep in my belly. He had woven a spell around me with his captivating words, using them with skillful ease to wrap me in soothing comfort, to warm me from the inside out until all sensible thoughts had been obliterated beneath the crushing weight of his seductive call.

I had never thought of myself as weak willed but I deserved that moniker after what I had let transpire. Looking back it seemed to have happened with unbelievable speed - Anakin there, in my room, pressing onwards like a one-man invading army. Each action and subsequent reaction building on itself like a snowball barreling down a hill, the once manageable situation picking up momentum, growing larger and larger, moving faster and faster until stopping it was impossible. The dizzying whirl of events had sent common sense fleeing while my traitorous heart overthrew years of disciplined rule to let chaos rein supreme. With his sultry caresses and silky smooth words, Anakin had devastated me, easily suppressing every act of rebellion I tried to summon. Under the power of Anakin’s sensual enchantment I let every opportunity to stop him trickle away like sand through my fingers.

Hot mouth, ravenous and unrelenting, slanting over mine again and again.

Determined hands first luring me forwards and then later trapping me – roaming over my body with a consummate skill most women only dreamed of experiencing.

Lips and tongue working tandem as erotic instruments to awaken a hitherto unknown internal hunger . . . tidal waves of tactile sensations pushing me to the edge of my limits until I could not bear to contain the cries of pleasure burning in my chest like fire.

The haunting tableau abruptly shattered when Anakin mumbled something in his sleep and I was jerked sharply back to the present. Every muscle froze in sudden apprehension and I held my breath. Not now, I prayed feverishly, not yet. I needed more time to gather my jumbled thoughts before facing him again. My composure was in shambles and I was desperately afraid I would not be able to find the conviction with which to dissuade him from dreams of a future that could never be. This . . . tryst did not change anything, I reminded myself determinedly. I tried to ignore the mocking laughter echoing softly in my head.

There was another incomprehensible mutter from behind me and then Anakin nuzzled his face deeper into my tangled curls and settled back down with a contented sigh. Only when it became apparent he was not on the verge of awakening did I give my stiffened limbs permission to relax from their tension-riddled state. But no amount of effort could temper the rush of desire stirred by my traitorous thoughts nor ease the sated soreness in never before used muscles. I stifled a moan. Gods, how could I relax when it still felt as if he were inside me?

Moist puffs of air escaping from Anakin’s sleep parted lips tickled along my scalp, warming the crown of my head and sending new ripples of awareness rolling beneath my skin. The knowledge that even in sleep he commanded my body’s attention sent waves of resentment coursing through me, and without meaning to, I found myself using his own familiar refrain. It’s not fair! I had sacrificed so much for the good of others and now I would have to do it again. No matter how much I wanted it to be otherwise the door Anakin had opened had to be closed for both our sakes.

So while Anakin enjoyed his restful sleep as if he did not have a care in the universe, I concentrated on the dark veil of shadows cloaking the far side of the room, using the obscured focal point to will my heart and too-rapid breathing to slow and then steady. I shoved the enticing pleasure-filled memories away and doggedly tamped down hard on the unwelcome throb of arousal pulsing its insistent ache between my legs.

Dwelling on what had happened would do me no good. I had to decide on a course of action and stick to it. The mistake I had made would have to be rectified without compounding the error further. And it would be so easy to do that, to simply slip again and let Anakin lead this insane dance. He had the power to make me forget my principles, my duties . . . myself. Who was I if I was not Senator Amidala?

I dug down deep and tried to find the defensive mental armor I had donned when he had first confessed his feelings but it was difficult to think of practicalities when being held in your first lover’s embrace. The casual arm Anakin had thrown possessively over my waist was like a comforting shackle, heavy and confining, protective yet ultimately restraining. Our clasped hands, fingers laced together in an uneasy reminder of our intimate joining of not more than an hour or so ago, nestled snugly against the bare flesh showing just above my sheet-draped breasts. I could feel the erratic thumping of my heart beneath my palm and I wondered if a broken heart beat with the same fierceness.

“All you have to do is let me in.” My memory mocked.

Oh yes, it would be so easy to fall under the bewitchment of love’s spell, to just let the warm waters close over my head and sink to the bottom wrapped in a pair of strong arms as if nothing else but the two of us existed. The Jedi holding me close was beyond my experience. Anakin loved with an unabashed enthusiasm that was both flattering and unsettling, the absolute adoration, the unfettered passion was too much; too hungry, too overwhelming, too frightening.

"It wouldn’t have to be that way. We could keep it a secret."

Almost instantly my lips twisted into a wry smile. I had always been so good at avoiding emotional entanglements, at keeping my personal life separate from the role I served, first as queen and now as senator. My indulgence in an occasional flirtation at an official function or a few stolen kisses at some senatorial ball had left me ill equipped to deal with Anakin and his ruthless pursuit. Sabé had warned me on numerous occasions that my success had only been due to the fact I had felt nothing but the mildest of affections for past suitors but I had scoffed at her claim. At the venerable age of twenty-four, I had become overly confident in the control I had over my emotions. How she would laugh should she discover the identity of my seducer. I could hear her words as clearly as if she were standing next to the bed.

“Ani? The little boy from Tatooine? Padmé Naberrie! You turned your nose up at the senator from Corellia – the most incredible looking man I have ever seen, and who do you end up in bed with? Little Ani?”

Sabé’s accusations that I had yet to meet my match now proved true. All this time I thought I knew everything and it turned out I knew absolutely nothing. Bitter recriminations bounced in my head. She would not understand. How could she when even I did not fully comprehend how the little boy I had befriended so long ago had succeeded where no one else had.

Love was not what I had been taught it was all these years. It bore little resemblance to the flowery descriptions detailed in the romantic classics that all young girls devour as readily as sweets. The elegant prose in those much beloved tomes had lied and deceived with their promised ideals, offering up a reality that never existed. The veil of girlish notions behind which I had remained cloistered had been ripped from me by a sinfully skilled mouth, strong hands that knew my body with haunting familiarity, and a pair of feverish blue eyes that set me on fire with a single glance.

Lies, all lies.

Love was not gentle and sweet as extolled by authors of old. Nor was it comfortable and safely familiar as demonstrated by the witnessed unions of friends and family. Instead it was raw, dangerous and terrifying in its intensity and power; wild and uncontrollable in its assault on my senses. Anakin’s brand of love knocked me off my feet and swept me out into a bottomless sea of dark excitement and shattering unpredictability. Being desired by him was a cataclysmic fury that raged and burned, threatening to consume everything in its path until nothing was left but a constant ache, an ache that refused to allow body and mind a moment’s peace.

I recalled Anakin’s reaction when he discovered I had never been with anyone else and my cynical smile turned into a frown. He had regretted the unavoidable pain he had caused but he had not been sorry for the aggressive siege he had unremorsefully waged. The gleam of territorial pride lighting his eyes from within and the satisfied male triumph etched in every line of his face had told their own story. He had not said it but the word mine had screeched loudly in my head and each rendition had sounded more possessive than the last.

I slowly eased our joined hands away from where they rested and let my gaze idly trace the lines of his tanned fingers where they threaded through mine. The calluses on his palm and thumb pad were rough against my skin and I marveled at the hours and hours of light saber practice that had gone into creating them. Such strong hands, I thought wonderingly, hands that could be gentle or rough, tender or demanding, loving or punishing. Short nails, long graceful fingers . . . a blush automatically spread across my face as I remembered the pleasure Anakin was capable of giving with those fingers.

You were meant for me, I’ll prove it to you.

A tiny nervous tremor curled in my stomach. I was his and I always would be after tonight. Another jolt of sheer panic shot through me, and this time I could not push it down. The truth settled on my chest like a lead weight and suddenly I could not breathe.

Pulling away from the cocooning warmth of his body, I impatiently tugged my hand free and threw off the heavy arm keeping me close. A sleepy grunt sounded but I was past caring whether I disturbed the man at my side, all I could concentrate on was trying to dislodge the oppressive pressure crushing my chest. I sat up hurriedly, wincing as my hair reluctantly pulled free from beneath the trap of Anakin’s cheek. Fighting for breath, I worked desperately to draw air into my lungs, clutching the bed sheet protectively to my chest in two tight fists. Realization slammed into me like an asteroid against the hull of a ship.

“Then you do feel something!"

Feel something? How weak that sounded in the face of what I now knew in my heart to be true. Despite the impossibilities and utter lack of cause, I loved him - Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi Padawan who would never be free to be his own person or be allowed to have any acknowledged attachments. Even should I fall in with his outrageous suggestion nothing good could come of it. Ultimately I would be a hindrance to him, a burden he would eventually come to resent. His dearest wish was to become a Jedi Knight. How could I take that away from him? There was no happy future for us, not with whom we were and the parts we seemed destined to play. Why could he not see that?

I knew I could not move backwards by turning back time and pretending I was the same person who just the night before had stood firm in her convictions. And yet, neither could I do an about face and fall in with the web of lies Anakin would surely propose again the moment the sun rose.

"A day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t thought about you."

Gods, I loved him but I had no choice except to give him up. And it was going to hurt so much more now that I had yielded and done what I swore not to do. There was no use in railing against the injustice of it all. Anakin was incapable of being rational about me, he had admitted that the previous night, and so it was left to me to administer a painful dose of reality. Again.

An inquiring touch at my back immediately stiffened my spine and I swallowed a startled gasp. I did not dare turn around to meet those eyes that could see far too much with a single penetrating glance.

“What’s wrong?”

I almost laughed out loud at his question, only managing at the last minute to quell the hysterical bubble of laughter welling up inside. Anakin had turned my world upside down and nothing would ever be right again and he wanted to know what was wrong?

Closing my eyes, I tried to gather my scattered wits, a task made all the more difficult when Anakin began to gently run his hand in soothing circles at the small of my back. The delicate shiver I was helpless to suppress drew forth a low sound of approval and the arrogance of it shored up my crumbling resolve.

“This cannot happen again, Anakin. You know that, don’t you?” The hand at my back faltered briefly and then resumed its absent caressing. The warmth of his touch sent tingles of desire crawling along each nerve ending.

“If that’s what you want.”

I sighed resignedly. “It does not matter what I want, or what you want. Our lives are not simple. Neither of us is free.”

“Our lives could be that simple if you’d just let them be.”

“Anakin, how can you . . .” I stopped and after taking a steadying breath began again. “I meant what I said. It will not work and I cannot live in a world of lies.”

“So you’re telling me that what happened tonight meant nothing to you?” Anakin asked woodenly.

Helpless anger flared and I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “You of all people should know that’s not true.” I ripped my gaze away and turned quickly back to contemplate the less threatening view of the dark room with unseeing eyes.

“I know.”

The unspoken satisfaction flavoring that simple sentence annoyed me and instantly raised my hackles. Smug boy, I muttered to myself.

The bed abruptly shifted beneath Anakin’s weight as he sat up. My irritation faded and I was immediately on my guard.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I? I mean other than . . .” His voice trailed off and he sounded like the Anakin of long ago, like the boy who no longer existed. Long fingers began to trace my spine slowly upwards.

“No.” It cost me a great deal to get the word out without giving in to the breathlessness his touch was inspiring.

“Are you sorry?”

“I never said ‘no’. I could have stopped you if I had really wanted to.” I hedged, finally admitting the truth to myself.

Behind me Anakin remained unaccountably silent but his fingers continued their exploration by moving a little higher. The non-response sent a frisson of unease prickling along the nape of my neck. I swallowed uncertainly as a disturbing thought occurred to me.

“You would have stopped if I had wanted you to, wouldn’t you?”

Another long moment of silence stretched out before Anakin finally replied hesitantly, almost as if he were talking to himself.

“Of course I would have.”

He meant it, I told myself heatedly but my fingers tightened convulsively around the edges of the sheet, my knuckles growing white with the effort. In sharp brilliant flashes I saw again the proprietary way he had looked at me as I stood with my back to the storm; saw the pain and determination hardening his face when he demanded I meet his gaze; saw the sensual curve of his lips as he whispered his love. Once more I felt the scorching heat of his flesh on mine, the strength of his grip around my wrists, his mouth at my breast and the way he had filled me so completely. He would have, I insisted again as my breath started to come in short jerky pulls.

Who exactly are you trying to convince? my inner voice whispered with a mocking edge.

Through sheer force of will I thrust my doubts aside and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand - namely, breaking two hearts at once. Before I could formulate my next thought, Anakin let out a heavy sigh as if he had come to some sort of painful decision.

“Padmé?”

I cocked my head slightly to signal I was listening. I did not trust my voice at that particular moment.

“You’ve made your decision and even though I think you’re making a mistake, I won’t push you further.” In one of his startling transformations, Anakin was suddenly back to the awkward boy-man who had acted so perplexed and disarmingly sweet after I had broken our first kiss and told him I should not have allowed it to happen.

Despite the sincerity of his words, the seriousness of his tone, my wariness only eased a fraction. After all, he had agreed with me before only to show up mere hours later with far from respectable intentions, not to mention a host of misguided accusations.

I was right to be cautious for even as he appeared to accept defeat, with the words still hovering in the air around us, he moved the heavy curtain of my hair aside to expose my bare back. At the same moment his lips began to press soft, open-mouth kisses along one naked shoulder, I heard a soft swooshing noise but then forgot all about it when Anakin reached the base of my neck and drew in the soft skin with a sharply delicious suck.

I stifled a whimper as he used his teeth and tongue to arouse me with worrying ease and as the electric sensations built I could not stop my head from falling helplessly back onto his muscled shoulder with a thud. He owns you, taunted the part of me still capable of rational thought. When the hand responsible for sweeping my hair out of the way slipped down and around to cup one breast, I gasped in both pleasure and useless protest.

“Anakin.” My lips brushed against his cheek, the intended admonishment coming out on a telling moan. Any weight it might have carried was swept away when my body instinctively arched into his touch.

With a playful bite at the area he had just marked, he left the sensitive spot and worked his way up my neck. It should be illegal to use your tongue and teeth with such skill, I thought as my breath sawed in and out of my chest.

“We still have the rest of the night.” Anakin breathed as his hand began to easily work the sheet from my loosening grip. A cool rush of air signaled he had won the battle and my nipples, already aroused by his actions, tightened painfully. “Do something for me, Padmé, since you say this can’t happen again.”

My muddled mind took in his words but it was difficult to concentrate with his warm hand kneading my breast so insistently, his thumb and forefinger teasing the swollen peak with devastating precision. It was also impossible to disregard the persistent nudge of his hardened length at my back.

“Wh-what?” I choked out.

Anakin’s remaining free hand brought up a fist full of black material into my line of vision. The bottom of my stomach dropped as I focused on the accursed evening gown. The source of the swooshing noise suddenly was glaringly obvious. More Jedi tricks.

With hot, moist breath caressing my ear, he purred his decadent request. “Put this back on and let me show you all the things I wanted to do to you from the moment you opened your door.”

“Oh gods.” I hissed as my body flamed with a heady mixture of lust and desire. The blood in my veins turned from viscous and slow to a raging river of fire. And deep within an insatiable curiosity for the wicked unknown rose up to guide my actions. I reached out with a trembling hand, my fingers closing slowly around the slick leather with only the briefest of hesitations. The musky, masculine scent of Anakin filled my nostrils as I pulled away from the heat of his body and then twisted to meet his hooded stare.

I looked down at the dress now clutched in both my hands and then back up at Anakin. A small flush gathered over my body and I glanced away again, unable to look at the hunger sharpening his face. He had the sexual confidence and skill of a man twice his age. Where did it come from? A sharp twinge of jealousy lanced my heart. Who else had he practiced it on?

“Will you?”

His hand reached out and cupped my cheek, gently bringing me back to face him. I stared into the depths of his cobalt blue eyes and became mesmerized at the wealth of emotions swirling in their depths. A few more hours, it will not change anything, my heart promised as if my mind did not remember the last time it lied like that. I ignored the danger instinct urgently warning me I was acting on emotion instead of common sense. I ignored twenty-four years of morality and my ingrained sense of duty. Instead I went with my heart and the desire thrumming through me like an addictive drug. Fool, my mind shouted. But I barely heard it over the blood roaring in my ears.

I took a deep breath and then plunged ahead without looking either left or right, not even caring that I was throwing myself off a cliff. “You’ll have to help me with the laces.” I said in a breathless rush before my courage failed.

Anakin’s lips curled in a victorious smile. His smoldering gaze never left my face as he plucked the gown from my unresisting and slightly damp grip.

“I think that can be arranged, milady. Now, turn around.”