Who do you think you are, looking at him like that? He's a Jedi Knight, not some lowly servant---

“You’re huffing.” You said before raising your novel higher, blocking the unsightly view of your bodyguard.

“I am not.”

“You. Are. Breathing. Hard. Take a run if you’re out of shape.”

"Princess," he says, his voice tight. "I'm here as your assigned protector, not your pushover. I advise you to focus on the threat against your life."

“How many times must I say it?! I do not want you here!”

Anakin's eyes narrow as he stares up at you from your canopy bed. He can't believe your arrogance, every day, like clockwork, dismissing him so firmly. He's not some toy you can send back because it doesn't suit you. He's a Jedi, sworn to protect the innocent, and that includes spoiled royal brats like you. He won't be brushed off so easily.

"Send another?" he asks, his voice tight with frustration. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Princess. The Jedi Council assigned me to this mission personally. They chose me for a reason - because I'm the best at what I do. I didn't come all this way to be cast aside because you don't like the way I exhale."

You climbed off your bed and stood tall against him. “…you’ve got some nerve.” You muttered bitterly before snatching the lightsaber off his belt. Anakin grinds his teeth as you toss his lightsaber somewhere far. He listened to the loud clatter as it knocked over a vase, shattering it.

However, his expression stayed firm. He was confident his weapon was fine. It was you. You were the issue. “Rest assured, as soon as I get the call back to Coruscant, I won’t hesitate...” He took a step back.

Anakin takes a deep breath, reminding himself of his duty. He's here to protect you, not indulge his own ego. He tucks his lightsaber back into its holster, the familiar weight a comfort. “Princess.” He dismissed himself, going wherever you weren’t.

Later that day on the dry courts, you played some game he had not recognized. With little racquets, you and the ladies of the court drank wine and clumsily swatted at balls. “Ha-ha!” Your obnoxious laugh rang in Anakin’s ears. He couldn’t control how his eyes rolled.

Pets run around the lawn and your puppy, a little tan creature, insisted on biting at Anakin’s robes. “You’re just as bothersome, rodent...” He muttered to the pet before pushing it away.

He can't help but feel out of place, a warrior among the extravagant finery. His black Jedi robes stand out starkly against the colorful dresses and the vibrant greenery that surrounded the few. He stands further from the courts, not wanting to intrude on your revelry, but his eyes are constantly scanning the surroundings. 

“It seems my new pet would rather keep his distance.” You chattered, obviously tipsy, to your friends.

Anakin's eyes narrow as he watches you laugh cruelly at his reaction to his alienation. He can feel his face heating up with embarrassment and a touch of anger. "I am not a pet.”

“Am I speaking to you?” You asked firmly. The women’s laughter died as you held a moment of eye contact with the general.

Anakin clenches his fist, his cybernetic hand whirring softly as he struggles to control his temper. The insult stings, but he knows he can't rise to the bait. “No, my Princess. You were not speaking to me. I apologize for any disturbance I may have caused." He keeps his gaze fixed on the horizon, refusing to meet your eyes again.

How dare he ignore you? How dare he break eye contact after that pathetic apology?!

“Get the dogs off the court!” You spat to the butlers. It was true, you were a brat, entitled and rude at times but Anakin really brought it out of you. “Useless…” You whispered to yourself, stomping off.

After you left, the women began to gather their things. Anakin stepped forward to the court and with a gentle but firm hand, he scoops up your puppy, murmuring a soft calming phrase under his breath. “…you’re alright…it’s alright…”

Some nights later, you sit on your marble balcony, biting your bottom lip. The breeze flowed in your silk robe, and through your hair, letting it whir around your head. Anakin ate from a leftover dessert tray, popping the sweet bits into his mouth. With every new flavor, his eyebrows raised. “…mhh, coconut.” He steered away from the tempting wine bottle that lay in a bucket of ice.

Through his thoughts of soft delicacies, he heard you speaking to yourself from the balcony. Anakin startles at the sound of the princess’s voice, his heart leaping into his throat. He keeps a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude upon your private moment.

And yet, he can't help but let his gaze linger on the curve of your backside, the way your hair spills down your back, the soft rise and fall of your body as you breathe. There's a vulnerability to you in this moment, a softness that he rarely sees. He wiped his crumbs onto a towel of yours and swallows the last of what he chewed. “M- my princess? Are you alright?”

You looked over your shoulder before turning back to the view of your kingdom. “Fine.”

He found himself stepping closer to you…so close your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you want?” He stared at your red eyes before wiping your face with the sleeve of his night robe. You were still, an awkward and contorted expression on your face. “I am not a child. I need not be comforted by a man.”

He stepped back, taking the far side of the balcony, his back to you. “I don’t think lowly of you.”

“Should we throw a party?” You asked sarcastically before hiding yourself behind your hair. “Leave me be.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I am not!”

Anakin groaned, his cybernetic hand clenched tight, “What do you want from me? What can I do make you happy princess?!”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He took a step closer, “Nothing at all? No one can ever satisfy you. Not me. Not your friends or lovers. Not your pets or meaningless belongings. Nothing. You are a sad woman.”

You sat up, tears in your eyes, “…you don’t know me! You don’t know my kingdom nor my people. You are a stranger. You hold no rank on this planet and when morning comes, I want you gone.”

“That is not for you to decide. Your father-“ You began to walk away from him, strutting back into your bedroom before Anakin grabbed your wrist. “You will listen to me.” Your eyebrow raised as he drew you back.

Swiftly, you clutched the hilt of his lightsaber. The saber ignites in your hand, its blue light hummed. The light was mesmerizing, your eyes on it as he glared at you. Anakin’s hand overlapped with yours, “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re an entitled child. Let it go.”

“Make me.”

“I won’t put my hands on a woman.”

“Choke me.”

He knows he should refuse, should walk away and report this disturbing request to the Jedi Council. But there's a part of him, a shameful part, that chilled with excitement. A part that craves dominance, the utter control. Just once. Just once he could make you submit. “No.” he said firmly.

“…do it.”

Without another word, he leans in, his large hand wrapping around the slender column of your throat. His fingers sink into the soft flesh, feeling the delicate bones and the racing pulse beneath his palm. He applies the slightest pressure, watching your face intently for any sign of distress or regret. He didn’t need to make contact with your flesh to hurt you but there was something about your soft skin, your throbbing heartbeat, under his clutch that make his cock swell under his night robe.

He keeps a small part of his mind clear, focused on your wellbeing and the need to stop if you asks him to. As he clutch your windpipe, he thought of every condescending moment, every time you yelled at or pushed him away.

Finally, you let go of the lightsaber which he returned to his hip.

Your eyes flutter back into your head as you lay back on your sheets. He stayed above you, watching as you slowly surrendered to him. This was a reckless act, dangerous none the less but how could he stop? You sighed, your hands came to his wrist, keeping him steady.

Anakin's heart pounds wildly as he feels the princess’s body trembling against his robes, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The power pulsing through him is intoxicating, the knowledge that he holds your life in his hands, that one wrong move could snuff out your existence was enough to make him moan.

His grip remains firm, not relenting, as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your ear. "Breathe." The man half-teases, his nose in your hair. Your vision grew blurry, breathless whispers he could not understand. A tense moan left your throat as you came, the knot in your core tight and left unsatisfied.

Anakin turned you onto your side, his body spooned yours with a heated passion. He leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, feeling the racing pulse that still hasn't slowed from your climax. His voice is rough, tinged with a hunger he can barely control. "Tell me to stop, and I will.”

He pushed away his robe and positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head of his manhood pushing insistently against your slick, heated folds. With a slow flex of his hips, he sheaths himself inside of you. A shudder left his lips as he grinds into your velvety cunt.

When you whined too loudly for his liking, Anakin quickly places a hand over your mouth, muffling your lewd cries.

a/n: something short...chapter 2 of Eclipse will be out on Sep 17th.

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The lights and sounds of traffic in the capital of the galaxy never ceased; Coruscant was alive at all hours, pulsing with movement, especially in its wealthier districts. The residential apartments in Upper Coruscant stood in the heart of it all—close to the Senate, to prestigious art buildings and grand museums. It was a respectable area, one that reflected status and security. And it was the view, the way the city seemed to breathe in tandem with the rising and setting of the sun and moon, that had convinced your mother to claim this penthouse as her own.

It was past midnight when you silently slipped out of your room, careful not to disturb your mother or her maids. But as you moved through the quiet corridors, a strange sensation settled in your chest. The apartment felt empty—no Sabé, no Dormé. A little unusual, but perhaps your mother had dismissed them for the night, craving solitude. Being the senator of Naboo had brought her both admiration and danger, assassination attempts and unwavering devotion alike. Privacy was a rare luxury.

You made your way toward the kitchen, the glow of Coruscant’s night sky filtering through the grand glass walls. Then, the sound of laughter caught your attention. Voices, low and familiar, drifted from the living room. Your mother sounded… happy. Amused. Curious, you moved closer, careful to keep yourself hidden behind one of the marble pillars that framed the open space.

Padmé sat on the plush couch, close—too close—to Jedi General Anakin Skywalker. Your brow furrowed. What was he doing here at such an hour? You had seen them interact before, of course. Anakin was a regular at your mother’s gatherings, often assigned to her protection. He had even saved your reckless self more than once when you disobeyed her and wandered into the lower levels of Coruscant, only to be dragged back home by her trusted Jedi friend.

But this was different.

Your breath caught as you watched Anakin’s gloved hand slide over your mother’s, his touch deliberate, intimate. Padmé’s gaze darted to the side, a fleeting moment of nervousness before she relaxed under his touch.

“We shouldn’t, Ani. My daughter might see us,” she murmured, her voice soft but warning.

Anakin exhaled, half amusement, half exasperation. “And? Your daughter isn’t allowed to see her mother happy?”

Padmé shook her head, an affectionate yet weary look in her eyes. How was it that Anakin, despite all his wisdom and power, still found it so difficult to understand that not everything was as simple as he wanted it to be?

Unable to stay hidden any longer, curiosity clawing at your mind, you stepped out from behind the pillar, crossing the room with measured steps. The moment your presence registered, Padmé and Anakin sprang apart—your mother’s eyes widened in concern, while Anakin exhaled sharply, unmistakably annoyed by the interruption.

“Why is General Skywalker here, mom?” you asked, voice calm but laced with suspicion, an eyebrow arched as your gaze flickered between them.

“It’s nothing, dear. Just a meeting about Republic interests—boring matters you wouldn’t be interested in,” Padmé said quickly, her words rushed. She cast a fleeting glance at Anakin, silently pleading with him to hold his tongue and not shatter the delicate excuse she had conjured.

Your skepticism didn’t waver. “A meeting about the Republic, huh? Isn’t there something in the constitution that states political discussions must be held in designated locations and reported to the Chancellor to prevent betrayals from seeping into our already fragile political system?”

Padmé inwardly cursed. That youth politics camp she had enrolled you in had clearly paid off—too well, in fact. Your arguments had sharpened, your persistence growing stronger with each passing day. Normally, she would have been proud of your structured reasoning, but right now, she only wished you’d let this go.

“Dear, this isn’t a discussion for children,” Padmé said, her tone even as she stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“I’m not a child anymore, mom,” you retorted, your tone remaining diplomatic despite the defiance in your words. “And your inability to provide me with a convincing explanation for this ‘secret meeting’ leads me to believe that whatever General Skywalker is doing here isn’t in the best interest of the Republic, the Jedi Council, or whichever association you plan to use as an excuse.”

Padmé sighed, retracting her hand and crossing her arms over her chest, clearly frustrated. You were getting better at this than she had anticipated. “Alright, dear, you got me,” she murmured, glancing at Anakin briefly as she searched for the right words. “Anakin is here simply as a… friend.”

“A friend?” you echoed, skepticism deepening as you looked between them. Anakin, still lounging on the couch, seemed utterly uninterested in engaging in this debate, now tired of the exchange.

“And may I ask, mom, why exactly do you need a ‘friend’ in the middle of the night?” you pressed, tilting your head slightly.

Padmé exhaled, cursing your tenacity. You had inherited her stubbornness. “It’s complicated, dear,” she said carefully, her gaze flickering toward Anakin, who rolled his eyes, clearly growing impatient with the interrogation. She longed to change the subject, but she knew you wouldn’t let it slide so easily.

“If you don’t mind, mom, I should direct my questions to your ‘friend.’ Perhaps he can come up with a more convincing lie,” you suggested smoothly, keeping your tone as diplomatic as ever.

Padmé met your gaze firmly, then sighed, softening slightly. “Alright. But don’t push too hard—and when you’re done, you’re going straight to bed,” she warned, her voice carrying a note of finality. As she turned to Anakin, she silently pleaded for him not to say anything reckless that might expose them further.

"Thank you for your cooperation, mom," you said smoothly, stepping past Padmé with an air of composed confidence as your mom left the room, your focus now entirely on the Jedi lounging casually on the couch. Your gaze lingered on him, analyzing every detail, the relaxed set of his shoulders, the flicker of amusement in his blue-gray eyes. "I thought the Jedi used Republic funds for missions to seek peace in the galaxy, not to visit a ‘friend’ in the middle of the night," you mused, your tone carrying just enough curiosity to be disarming. "But perhaps even the Jedi indulge in a little misuse of public resources."

Anakin chuckled, the smirk tugging at his lips betraying his amusement despite Padmé’s obvious tension beside him. He could feel her unease, the silent plea in the way she shifted slightly, but he couldn’t resist playing along. You reminded him so much of your mother—sharp, determined—but with a fire that burned differently.

“I wouldn’t call it an inappropriate use of resources,” he countered, mischief flickering in his expression as he awaited your response, knowing full well he was walking a precarious line.

“Oh?” you prompted, tilting your head slightly, your eyes narrowing with intrigue. “And what would you call it, General Skywalker? A transport voucher for unauthorized visits to a ‘friend’ during non-business hours?”

He laughed, shaking his head, enjoying the way you sparred with him so effortlessly. You had Padmé’s intellect, but your wit was your own, sharper and more brazen.

“Well, I like to think of it as a tactical secret meeting,” he said smoothly, holding your gaze, though a part of him was aware of how dangerously close you were to unraveling him.

Your lips twitched, not quite hiding your amusement. "Tactical? Interesting. Because in my understanding, that term refers to battle strategies, combat initiatives, or military operations." You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice, but keeping your expression light, playful. "Which clearly isn’t the case here. My mother is a senator, and while we both know she’s more than capable of handling a blaster, her battlefield is diplomacy. She’s fighting this war with negotiations, not weapons. She even filed a petition to reduce war funds, which makes it unlikely she’d suddenly abandon her progress to discuss battlefield tactics with you."

Anakin exhaled slowly, watching you with growing interest. You were relentless, unafraid to challenge him, to dissect his carefully laid excuses until they crumbled entirely. He hadn’t expected this conversation to be so intricate, but he wasn’t about to let you bet him so easily.

Keeping his smirk intact, he conceded, “Alright, you got me. This isn’t a tactical meeting.” He paused, as if crafting his next move. “Let’s call it… a diplomatic matter.”

Your eyebrow arched, that soft, knowing smile never fading. "Diplomatic? Intriguing. Because as far as I recall, Jedi involvement in politics is strictly conducted through their appointed representatives." You leaned back slightly, feigning contemplation. "And, if I remember correctly… you are not part of the Jedi Council."

A flash of irritation crossed Anakin’s face, fleeting but undeniable. You had struck a nerve, and you knew it. The reminder of his exclusion from the Council wasn’t just a simple observation—it was a wound that had never quite healed, a thorn lodged deep beneath his skin. And you, with your sharp tongue and knowing smirk, had just pressed on it.

He held your gaze, tension sparking between you like a live wire. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head, calculating his next move, deciding whether to push back or concede.

“Maybe I should give you more time to think of a coherent excuse?” you suggested, your voice sweet but laced with challenge. Your teeth caught your lower lip, an unconscious attempt to mask your growing amusement.

Anakin’s eyes flickered downward, lingering just a moment too long. That smirk of yours—how he would love to erase it, to see something else take its place. A challenge met with something far more dangerous.

The air between you crackled, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t just a battle of words you were engaged in—it was something else entirely.

"Don't worry, little girl, I don’t need any more time," Anakin countered, his voice a low, velvety drawl that reverberated through the spacious room. "But I won’t stop you from taking a moment to rethink your accusations." His words held a teasing edge, a deliberate provocation.

You rolled your eyes at his arrogance but refused to let it rattle you. Maybe you did need a break—just long enough to see how far you could push this, how much you could make him unravel. If General Skywalker wanted to keep up his facade, you would let him. For now.

“Alright,” you said softly, turning away, your movements fluid as you crossed the room to the mini bar. “I’ll get myself a drink while I wait.” You plucked a glass from the counter, the quiet clink of ice against crystal filling the room as you poured a mix of lemonade and one of the most expensive spirits your mother owned. A mint stick twirled between your fingers before you dropped it in, stirring languidly.

Anakin watched you, captivated by the ease with which you commanded the moment, as if the conversation—and him—were something you could toy with at your leisure. His eyes traced the graceful curve of your movements, the sway of your hips, the way your fingers skimmed along the bottles, seeking the right one. He looked away, exhaling slowly. The last thing he needed was to be drawn to his wife’s daughter. And yet…

“You’re rather determined to uncover the reason I’m here,” he mused, voice deceptively casual. “I wonder what’s in it for you?”

You let out a breathy laugh, rich with mirth, tilting your head as if he had just told the most amusing joke. Anakin’s brow furrowed slightly, curiosity flickering in his stormy gaze.

“Oh, I know why you’re here, General Skywalker,” you murmured, lifting your glass to your lips, sipping slowly as your eyes met his over the rim. “I just want to hear you admit it.”

His smirk deepened as he recognized the game you were playing. You were having fun watching him stumble over excuses, when all the while, you had already pieced it together. Fine. If this was a game, then he was going to play to win.

“So you think you know?” he challenged, voice thick with interest.

“Obviously.”

Anakin chuckled under his breath, finding your confidence dangerously enticing. But he wasn’t going to let you have the upper hand so easily. No, he would make you work for it. He leaned forward slightly, eyes darkening as he observed every shift in your expression, every slight movement that betrayed you.

“And yet,” he mused, standing and stepping toward you with deliberate slowness, “you still haven’t told me why I’m here.”

You twirled the mint stick between your fingers before pressing it against your lips, the gesture both innocent and tantalizing. “Don’t you Jedi have a code to follow?” you asked, feigning curiosity. “One that strictly forbids attachment?”

Anakin’s steps didn’t falter as he approached, his gaze never straying from yours. He could hear the teasing lilt in your voice, see the smug satisfaction in the way you smirked, believing you had won.

His own smirk deepened.

“I suppose you’re not wrong.”

You hummed, tilting your chin up slightly as he closed the space between you. “And as a Jedi Knight, you should already know this rule, right?” The mint stick twirled on your tongue, your voice laced with something almost dangerous.

Anakin’s eyes flicked downward, watching the movement of your lips. He exhaled sharply, the heat between you thickening. “Yes, little girl, I’m aware,” he admitted, voice dropping lower. “You’re quite the little interrogator, aren’t you?” He stepped even closer, the air between you charged with an unspoken challenge.

You held your ground, refusing to let him intimidate you, though your pulse quickened. “I wonder, are these rules mandatory… or can they be bent for personal aspirations?” you asked, your voice hushed, teasing, stepping back just as he advanced.

Anakin chuckled darkly, enjoying how you instinctively retreated, yet never truly backed down. It was thrilling, this push and pull, this careful dance between challenge and surrender. He took another step, closing the distance, his presence overwhelming as your back met the cool wall behind you. He caged you in with his arms, his hands bracing on either side of you.

“In theory, any good Jedi wouldn’t bend the rules,” he murmured, his breath ghosting against your skin. “They say breaking them leads to dangerous paths.”

Your breath hitched, your heart hammering against your ribs as the heat of his body pressed close. “And in practice?” you whispered, barely able to breathe the words.

“In practice,” he said, his gaze dipping to your lips, his voice molten, “some rules are harder to follow than others.”

The silence between you was charged, heavy with something forbidden, something electric. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the intensity of his gaze, the undeniable pull drawing you both dangerously close to the edge of something you weren’t sure either of you were ready for.

But neither of you wanted to stop.

"And don’t you think about the consequences, General Skywalker? What will happen if you get caught?" you asked carefully, using all your self-control to keep your voice from faltering under the weight of his imposing presence. Your small fingers found their way into his golden curls, gripping a handful and tilting his head back so his eyes met yours.

Anakin let out a slow, satisfied sigh, enjoying the way you pulled his hair as if you had some claim over him. Kriffing, he loved the mix of confidence and nervousness that radiated from you. His blue eyes darkened, clouded with something dangerous, and it took every ounce of restraint for him not to close the distance between you.

"Bold of you to assume that I would get caught," he murmured, his voice low, rich, that perfect cadence that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. His gaze flickered down to your lips, lingering for a fraction too long until you finally broke the silence.

"You're not what I was expecting, General Skywalker," you admitted, your tongue flicking between your lips to moisten them.

Anakin raised a brow, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, his touch firm, possessive. "And what did you expect, little girl?"

"That you were more old-fashioned," you replied firmly, though your breath hitched as his fingers tightened around you, pulling you flush against him. A sensual sigh slipped from your lips despite yourself. "More serious and boring, like the senators my mother dated."

He chuckled, his smirk widening. How wrong you were about him.

"Oh, little girl… I can be serious when I want to," he murmured, his voice thick with promise.

Anakin leaned in, pressing you fully against the wall, his nose brushing along your jaw, his breath fanning hot against your ear, making your pulse race.

"But boring?" he whispered, his lips grazing just close enough to tease. "Definitely not."

“I have my doubts,” you retorted softly, your voice stuttering for a moment as his breath brushed against that sensitive spot on your neck.

Anakin chuckled against your ear as he heard your voice break, your stubbornness making the situation more appealing to him. His grip on your hips tightened slightly, his large fingers digging into your skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

“Don’t worry, little girl, I’ve my ways to make that for you,” he promised, his voice low and seductive as he trailed his nose from your jaw to your neck.

“And how do you expect to prove that, General Skywalker?” you urged, your breath coming in short pants at the anticipation that was building between you.

Anakin's smile widened as he heard the breathless anticipation in your voice, feeling your body trembling against him. He could practically taste your excitement, your desire, and it only fueled his own growing lust. His grip on your hips tightened possessively, fingers sinking into the soft, yielding flesh through the thin nightgown that separated you.

"Oh, I'll show you exactly how un-boring I can be, little girl," Anakin murmured, his deep voice dripping with sensual promise. He nipped at your earlobe before trailing his lips down the column of your neck, leaving a path of goosebumps in his wake. "I'm not like those stuffy senators your mother used to date. I'm a man of action, of passion..."

His hand slid up from your hip, skimming along your side until he reached the swell of your breast. He cupped it firmly, thumb brushing over the hardening peak of your nipple through the flimsy fabric. Anakin groaned softly at the feel of you, desire coursing through his veins like lava.

"And I always follow through on my promises," he growled, his blue eyes blazed with intensity as he captured your lips in a scorching kiss, plundering your mouth with his tongue. One hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss, while the other hand continued its exploration of your curves.

Anakin walked you backwards until he pinned you in the wall with his muscular body. He could feel every inch of your softness molding against him, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to tear the nightgown off you and take you right then and there.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. "I want to worship every inch of you, little girl," he rasped, his voice rough with desire.

“Is this what you call diplomacy, General Skywalker?” You managed to retort, although your voice was trembling from the intensity of his kisses.

Anakin smiles grew wider, amused by your feisty response even as he felt the tremor in your voice and the way your fingers clung to his robes. It only spurred him on, igniting the hunger within him.

"Oh, this is just the beginning, little girl," he purred, his hot breath ghosting over your racing pulse. "Diplomacy is about finding common ground, compromising, negotiation..." His hand slid down to grip your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip as he pressed himself against your core. You could feel the hard evidence of his arousal, even through the confines of his jedi clothes.

"And I intend to make sure we both find our pleasure tonight," Anakin promised, his voice a low, seductive rumble. He rocked his hips against yours, letting you feel every thick inch of him. His other hand slid up your side to cup your breast again, thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your nipple between them until it pebbled beneath his touch.

"This is about something far more primal, little girl. Something raw and intense..." He captured your lips again, kissing you with a fierce, desperate hunger. His tongue delved into your mouth, stroking along yours, coaxing you to respond in kind.

“Anakin,” you moaned softly, before correcting yourself under his intense gaze, your entire body softening under his touch. "General Skywalker, we can't, my mom is here"

Anakin froze for a moment, your words piercing through the haze of  lust that clouded his mind. He had let himself get so carried away, so consumed by desire that he had temporarily forgotten about the most important woman in his life - his wife, Padmé. Guilt and panic surged through him, even as his body still ached with want.

"Shh, don't worry, little girl. I'll make sure you stay quiet... one way or another." His hand slid down to grip your thigh, hiking your leg up higher around his waist as he pressed himself firmly against your core.

He captured your lips in another burning kiss, swallowing any protests or moans that might have escaped you. His other hand slid under your nightgown to palm the soft globe of your ass, kneading the supple flesh. He ground against your, the thick ridge of his erection throbbing with need.

Anakin's mind raced, trying to think of how to proceed without alerting Padmé. He knew you had to be quick and quiet. Breaking the kiss, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you towards the closest bathroom.

"Wrap your arms around my neck," he instructed softly, his voice strained with barely contained desire. "And keep those pretty lips of yours busy, little girl."

Anakin carried you to the bathroom, kicking the door to shut behind you, the soft click of the lock sounding obscenely loud in the charged silence. He set you down on the cool marble countertop, your nightgown riding up your thighs.

His hands slid up your smooth legs, pushing the fabric out of the way as he stepped between them. He cupped your face, tilting your chin up to capture your mouth in a hungry, desperate kiss. His tongue delved past your lips, stroking along yours, your sweet sounds giving him all he needed to continue.

Anakin's hands slid down to the straps of your nightgown, pushing them off your shoulders. The garment slipped down, baring the creamy swells of your breasts to his heated gauze. He pulled back just enough to drink in the sight of you , his blue eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he rasped, his voice low and rough with desire. His calloused thumbs brushed over your nipples, feeling them pebble under his touch. Leaning down, he took one into his mouth, sucking and flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue.

Anakin's other hand slid between your thighs, pushing your panties aside. His fingers found your slick folds, stroking through the wetness he found there. He groaned against your breast, feeling your arousal coating his digits.

"That's it, little girl," he praised softly, circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. "You're so ready for me already, aren't you?" He slipped a finger inside your tight heat, pumping it slowly, teasingly. "I'm going to make you feel so good, baby. So fucking good..."

Your small fingers pushed at the robes of his Jedi clothes, Anakin smiled at your eager touch, amused and aroused by your desperation. He caught your wrists in his large hands, pinning them above your head as he pressed himself more firmly against you.

"Mmm, and I love it," he growled, his voice low and rough with desire. "I love seeing you so hungry for it, so needy..."

His other hand slid down to the fastenings of his robes, quickly unlacing them. He shrugged the garment off, letting it pool on the floor at his feet. Beneath, he wore only a pair of simple black pants, the fabric straining over his thick, hard cock.

Anakin guided your hand to palm him through the fabric, groaning at the contact. He was so big, so hot and hard, pulsing with need. He rocked into your touch, seeking more friction.

"That's it, little girl. Feel how much I want you," he urged, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "I'm going to stretch this tight little pussy around my cock..."

He pushed your panties down your thighs, baring you completely to his heated gauze. Anakin took himself in hand, rubbing the swollen head of his cock through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal.

You smiled softly, your air of confidence still remained, although a slight blush crept across your cheeks and chest. “you’re wearing a lot of clothes” You whimpered lustfully, your small fingers playing with the collar of Anakin's shirt.

Anakin smirked at your breathy observation, his eyes darkened with lust at the sight of your blush spreading across your creamy skin. "Not for long, little girl," he promised, his voice a low, seductive growl.

He took your hands and guided them to the hem of his shirt, encouraging you to remove it. You eagerly tugged at the fabric, your small fingers brushing against his toned chest as you revealed his sculpted abs and the defined lines of his torso.

Anakin shrugged the shirt off, letting it fall to the floor beside his robes. He stood before you, his powerful body on full display - all hard muscle and smooth, tanned skin. The scars from battles past only added to its rugged appeal.

His hands slid up your thighs, pushing them further apart as he stepped closer, the thick ridge of his erection pressing against your slick cunt. Anakin gripped your hips, pulling your flush against him as he claimed your mouth again, again and again.

He nipped at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, his hands roaming your curves possessively. "I'm going to mark every inch of this gorgeous body," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see you flushed and trembling with need, begging for my cock..."

You tugged on Anakin's hair, your small fingers tangling in his sand-blonde locks to tilt his neck to the side. Your lips found the sensitive skin of his neck, nibbling gently, the moans that escaped his lips only encouraging you to continue. "General Skywalker, I need you, please"

Anakin groaned, his head falling back as your lips and teeth worked over the sensitive skin of his neck. The feeling of your small fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, only inflamed his desire.

"Fuck," he gasped, his hips jerking forward as you nibbled and sucked at his throat. "You don't know how badly I need you too, little girl."

His large hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling your flush against him. He could feel every inch of your soft, warm body molding against his hard frame. Anakin's control was slipping, his hunger for you consuming him.

"I'm going to take you right here, little girl," he growled, his voice strained with barely contained lust. "I'm going to fuck you until you forget everything but the feel of my cock inside you."

Anakin captured your lips in a bruising kiss, plundering your mouth with his tongue. He hitched your leg up higher around his hip, the head of his cock nudging against your cunt. With one hard thrust, he sheathed himself inside your tight, wet heat.

"Ah, fuck!" he cried out softly, his eyes squeezing shut at the incredible sensation of your walls gripping him. "You feel so fucking good, little girl. So perfect around my cock."

He began to move, thrusting into you with deep, powerful strokes. The bathroom filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and your ragged breaths and muffled moans. Anakin set a relentless pace, determined to bring them both to the edge of ecstasy and pleasure, your moans sounding like a sinful melody in his ears.

Anakin quickly covered your mouth with his large hand, muffling your increasingly loud moans and whimpers. His blue eyes flashed with a mix of lust and concern, realizing you needed to be more discreet.

"Shh, I know, little girl. You'll have to be quiet for me," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your plump bottom lip. "Can't have your mother hearing what a dirty girl you are for me."

He continued to thrust into you, his hips rolling in a steady, deep rhythm. The new angle allowed him to hit that special spot inside you with each push, making your toes curl and your back arch off the countertop.

Anakin leaned down to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking the hardened bud with his tongue. His free hand slid between your sweat-slicked bodies to rub tight circles over your clit, wanting to feel you come undone around him.

"That's it, little girl. Take my cock," he urged, his voice a low, seductive growl. "I can feel you getting closer. Gonna make this tight little pussy mine."

He could feel his own release approaching, his balls drawing up tight as he chased your shared pleasure. Anakin knew he wouldn't last much longer, not with how incredible you felt wrapped around him, your silky walls fluttering and clenching his throbbing length.

Anakin slowed his thrusts, fighting to regain some semblance of control as he felt your body tensing and trembling beneath him. He wanted to draw out your pleasure, to make this moment last as long as possible.

"Shh, relax baby," he cooed softly, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "We have all night. No need to rush." He knew this was a lie, but right now he was too high to care about the risk.

He gentled his touch, trailing his fingers along your side in a feather-light caress. Anakin's lips brushed against your temple, your cheek, before capturing your mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. He poured all his restraint and self-control into the kiss, trying to calm your racing heart.

His hips continued to move, but with deliberate slowness. Each thrust was measured, each roll of his pelvis designed to stoke the embers of your desire rather than fan them into a raging inferno. Anakin wanted to feel every inch of you, to savor the way your body yielded to his touch.

He slid a hand up to cup your breast, kneading the soft mound and toying with your nipple. He could feel it pebbling under his touch, could feel the way her back arched to press yourself more fully into his palm.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let me feel you," Anakin murmured against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "I want to feel every inch of you, every little tremor and shiver."

He continued his sensual touch, determined to drive you to the brink of madness with pleasure. His cock pulsed inside you, thick, hard and ready, but he held it back, waiting for the perfect moment to let you both tumble over the edge.

Anakin felt your body go rigid beneath him, your walls clamping down around his cock as your climax crashed over you. He muffled your cries of rapture with his mouth, swallowing your moans and whimpers as he thrust deep, burying himself to the hilt inside your spasming heat.

"Fuck, baby!" he gasped, his own release slamming into him like a freight train. His cock jerked and throbbed as he spilled himself inside you, coating your walls with his hot seed. Anakin's hips jerked erratically, each spurt of his climax prolonging your own as he filled you up.

He held you close, one hand tangling in your hair as the other gripped your hip, pulling you tight against him. Anakin pressed soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, murmuring words of praise and adoration against your skin. "That's my good girl. You took me so well, I'm proud of you, little girl"

As your breathing slowly returned to normal, Anakin gently eased out of you, his softening length slipping from your well-used cunt. He tucked your head under his chin, holding you close as he gathered you into his arms.

"I know we can't tell anyone about this, but I want you to know that I... I care for you deeply, little girl. More than I should," he admitted softly, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and lingering desire. "You've gotten under my skin in a way no one else has."

You smiled softly, your cheeks colored with a post-orgasmic blush. "I admit it, you're not boring, General Skywalker, I hope my mom stays with you"

Anakin chuckled softly, a genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at your flushed face. He tucked a stray strand behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your flushed cheek.

“I’m glad you don’t find me boring, little girl,” he murmured, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief and delight. “And I certainly hope your mother stays with me too… for many reasons.”

He winked at you, the implication clear in his tone. Anakin knew he would have to be more careful in the future, to find ways to be alone with you without arousing Padmé’s suspicions. But for now, he was content to hold you close, to bask in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

"Get some rest, little one," Anakin murmured, his voice a soothing lull, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. And who knows? Maybe another opportunity will arise for a... more private conversation."

The weight of his words hung in the air, thick with unspoken promise. Before you could respond, he effortlessly scooped you into his arms, cradling you as if you were something precious. With careful ease, he carried you back to your room, his warmth lingering even as he gently laid you down on the soft sheets.

Pulling the covers over you, his fingers brushed against your skin, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. His gaze softened, shadows playing across his features as he took in the sight of you nestled in bed.

"I'll be in the next room if you need me," he assured, his voice a low, velvety whisper. He leaned down once more, his lips pressing another delicate kiss to your forehead, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.