In Command - Chapter 23
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A/N: Oh hey, I guess it's time for another update. I'm hyped about this one, but it took a while to get it right. Anyway, BIG THANK YOU to the outstanding @cyarbika for beta-reading this for me and providing reassurance that all writers need hehe.
Chapter Rating: E (18+ ONLY)
Warnings: Explicit sexual content (PiV sex, oral sex, cum eating) graphic description of injury and blood, language
Word Count: 6.8k words
Adrenaline was still roaring through Rex’s system when he finally stepped into the room he shared with Senna.
He’d kept his hands clenched in fists throughout the entire briefing with Admiral Makin to try and hide the tremor that still plagued him from the confrontation with Fisk. Fortunately, Antilles had done most of the talking with Rex only having to confirm one or two details to the admiral. With his helmet back in place, he was less worried about being recognized as a clone, but Makin had hardly looked at either of them anyway as he’d paced, clearly more annoyed than upset. To Rex’s surprise, Antilles had done an excellent acting job, conveying both remorse and sympathy as he relayed the lie they’d agreed upon: Rex had just happened to notice Fisk outside, standing near the rail and seemingly distraught, but before he could call out to him, the Imperial captain had leapt over the edge. There were no recording devices outside of that particular door, and it had been simple enough to cut Senna out of any footage showing her following him from the interior camera feeds. It was a flimsy story that had been thrown together hastily, but it was working somehow.
“I’m truly sorry we didn’t find him sooner, Admiral,” Antilles offered.
“No, no,” Makin waved him off, brows knitted together. “The captain was a bit of a loose cannon. That was well documented. And the reason for his demotion.” Pulling the same damp handkerchief from his pocket again, he mopped at his brow, which was even sweatier than before. “I just didn’t anticipate him taking it this hard. Perhaps that was my failure.”
“We’ll organize a search party immediately to recover the body. His family deserves to have a proper funeral in their custom,” Senator Organa stated solemnly, glancing at Antilles, who seemingly took his cue.
“It will be difficult to do much tonight with the storm, but as soon as it’s cleared, we’ll head into the ravine to see what we can find. I should be able to rouse a few rangers that are familiar with the territory the river passes through and know the best way to traverse it.”
Makin nodded grimly. “That is much appreciated.”
Rex was surprised to see how little the other Imperials reacted to the death of their comrade, seemingly viewing it more as an inconvenience than an event worthy of grief. He’d noted a few eye rolls when Organa had first broken the news to Makin and the handful of aides he’d assembled. He was fairly certain he’d even heard one muffled titter, but he couldn’t be sure.
Can’t imagine being that indifferent to the death of a brother. Not even Crosshair or Slick. Krell, maybe, sure. But I also can’t imagine being that universally hated.
He was additionally shocked by how easily they’d accepted the story, but from what Makin described, it sounded like Fisk had been outraged by his demotion, becoming progressively more insolent, and eventually, deflated and withdrawn enough for the willful leap off a balcony to seem plausible. He’d unwittingly played right into their hands purely by being an insufferable asshole. It was almost funny. Almost.
The entire briefing had felt too easy to Rex, which did little to calm his nerves. His entire nervous system was on high alert still, every cell in his body practically vibrating with anticipation of some new threat that would surely emerge. Every shadow in the corridor and every unsourced sound had set his senses on edge until he’d crossed the threshold to the dormitory. Now, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as the bedroom door hissed shut behind him. Ripping his helmet off, he tried to steady his pulse, which still thrummed in his ears. His hands trembled slightly as the unspent adrenaline washed over him.
I was so sure we were caught.
“Rex?”
Senna’s voice was soft, muted by the sound of the shower in the small attached ‘fresher, but hearing her call out to him felt like a boon, grounding him a little. Rex realized she’d left her robes and clothing in a heap on the floor, and the first curls of steam drifted out of the open door, beckoning him.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he managed to grit out. He tried again to calm his breathing, to steady his hands, but heat still tore through him. His sight was back to normal at least. When Fisk had sneered at him, had talked about Senna like that, he’d gotten so angry that a blackness had crept into the corners of his vision. He almost didn’t remember what had transpired between Fisk laying on the ground and him dangling over the edge of the balcony.
Taking another deep breath, he shrugged off his cloak and stepped out of his boots as he strode towards the door, placing his hand against the wall to steady himself.
Senna was in the shower with her back to him, seemingly examining her injuries in the mirror through the shower’s glass paneling. Her hair hung in a loose curtain around her face, hiding her eyes from his view, and she clutched a washcloth in her hands, occasionally running it over certain patches of skin. The steam was only just beginning to fog the bottom of the glass, leaving enough of her visible that Rex could see what Fisk had done to her. The sight of the bruises and blood on her back sent a fresh wave of anger tearing through him, and he was overcome with need.
A need to touch. A need to claim what was his and erase any evidence of Fisk.
“May I join you?” he asked quietly.
She nodded.
Rex quickly stripped out of the rest of his clothes and stepped into the shower, approaching her from behind and allowing his hands to slide around her waist as he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent to try and ground himself. His eyes drifted closed as the warm water trickled over his muscles, stinging the places on his forearms where Fisk had desperately clawed at him through his uniform.
“I’m sorry,” Senna murmured after a few moments.
“For what?”
She rolled her shoulders slightly. “I saw him recognize me. I should have been more cautious and hidden my face better. And going after him was impulsive, but I just couldn’t let him be the one to bring it all down.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Rex whispered.
She sighed. “Still. It could have gone a lot worse.”
“But it didn’t.”
He felt her lean back into him slightly, relaxing in his arms as she huffed an acknowledgement. She released a long, slow exhale, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.
“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly.
Her hands covered his where they rested on her waist, fingers slotting in between his. “You’re shaking, Rex.”
“Are you hurt?” he gritted out again.
“No. Not really.” She sniffed slightly.
He opened his eyes, finally meeting her gaze in the mirror outside of the shower, and a flash of bright red caught his attention immediately. He spun Senna to face him, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Blood was smeared across her chin and lips, and rage tore through him as he cupped her face. She winced slightly, and he noticed the bruise blossoming on her cheek and purple and red fingerprints that fanned out across her neck. His hatred for Fisk surged again, feeling boundless as his vision started to blur again. Words failed him. He’d killed the prick too quickly. He should have taken his time.
“The blood’s not mine,” Senna said softly.
Confusion cut through the fog of his anger.
“What?”
She gave him a small smile. “Well, not all of it. It’s mostly Fisk’s. I-I bit him.” A shudder ran through her and her smile faded.
Rex ran his thumb through the trail of bright red on her chin. Some of the shower’s water trickled across it, thinning it and sending pink rivulets trailing down Senna’s neck. Her lip was split, but not bleeding nearly enough for it to all be hers. He remembered her telling Antilles to look for a bite mark on Fisk’s hand. He hadn’t really registered it at the time, too unmoored by his own adrenaline and anger to comprehend, but now he realized it had been hers, and that it had to be significant if she’d drawn this much blood in the fight. Senna stuttered on, as if he required a further explanation.
“He got the upper hand for a second. I was angry and got reckless, and he took advantage. Had me pinned to the railing.” Her eyes darted away, and Rex’s heart wrenched violently in seeing her fight to stay composed at the memory of Fisk’s transgressions. “He touched me, told me he remembered how I tasted. H-he wanted me to know that he’d had me like that, a-and I just couldn’t let him get away with it.” Senna closed her eyes, steeling herself before she met Rex’s gaze again, her blue irises smoldering. “So… I bit his hand.”
Rex continued tracing his thumb through the blood, wiping it away with the help of the water as he searched for the right response. The anger and adrenaline were still ricochetting through him like lightning searching for the ground, seemingly only compounding his desire with every passing heartbeat. He felt a different kind of heat tear through his veins as he cleaned the blood off of Senna, the blood she’d drawn defending herself. The scene he’d walked into played in his mind again: Fisk, on his back, Senna kneeling on top of him, knife at his throat. He had never seen her face, but he imagined her eyes had looked a lot like they did now, radiating with triumph. In that moment, confidence and competence had rolled off her in waves, every muscle expertly poised, everything under her control. Even the storm had seemed ready to respond to her commands as Rex had stood there watching her in awe. She could have easily finished the job herself, and perhaps she might have, but he’d wanted to do it for her. He’d have given her anything right then, and in killing Fisk, he hoped he’d at least given her some peace.
“And then you won,” he rasped.
A smirk tugged at the corner of her bloodied lip.
“I did,” she confirmed.
Even with that knowledge, Rex knew Fisk had scared her, had touched her, the woman he loved. A solitary word echoed in his brain.
Mine.
“Atta girl,” he growled before leaning down and claiming Senna’s mouth hungrily. If her split lip bothered her, she gave no indication, kissing him back with an equal fervor. She tasted of iron and sweat and her, and he needed her, needed to brand her with his marks. Even though the threat of Fisk was gone, Rex would never forget what he’d done to Senna, and he knew the memories would stay with her as well. While his rage would fade with time, right now it burned brightly. He’d been unable to help her that night on Lothal, unsure of where the boundaries lay between the two of them. This time, everything was different.
She was safe, she was loved, she was his, and he was going to ensure she knew that.
He took the washcloth from her hands, lathering it further before running it all over her body, wiping away as much evidence of Fisk’s touches as he could: the blood that had run over her neck, collarbone, and breasts, the grit from the railing on her arms, palms, and back. As he knelt to wash her legs, his nose grazed her thigh, and he inhaled deeply. The steam had inundated the bottom of the shower with the fragrance of soap, but he could still smell the heady scent of Senna’s arousal wafting from between her legs. It practically made him salivate, but he would be patient.
Taking each leg and bending it gently at the knee, he cleaned her reverently, scrubbing away the memory of Fisk like he’d wanted to the first night the Imperial had touched her. He’d laid awake in his bed, imagining he could brush the bite mark that had been left away just as he had her tears. Even now, the bruises weren’t fading with his gentle scrubbing, but he still felt as if he were helping her shrug the last memories of Wen Fisk off.
Senna pressed her palms against his shoulders for balance as he worked, her thumbs working at the tension between his muscles.
“I’m alright,” she said softly.
“Where else did he touch you?” he growled.
“Rex-”
“Where?” he demanded, pushing himself to a standing position and backing her against the shower wall. “Tell me.”
Wordlessly, Senna searched his gaze before holding out her arm. Rex could see the set of nail marks and more fingerprint bruises forming around the muscle where Fisk had gripped her. His eyes met hers, silently asking for permission, and she nodded. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the first bruise, letting his tongue trail along the skin. Senna inhaled sharply, and he paused.
Rex froze, staring at her. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes. But don’t stop.”
“Sen-”
“Don’t stop.” Her teeth were digging into her lip, but her eyes were dark and reflected his own need back at him.
He leaned forward, pushing her hair over her shoulder so that he could nuzzle at her throat, and he felt her shiver.
“May I mark you?” he rasped, his hands already snaking across her skin to pull her closer to him.
“Where?” Her voice was breathy.
“Anywhere he touched you.”
“Yes.”
Her knees shook, but Rex gripped her firmly as he worked his lips across every inch of her skin, biting and sucking bruises into her flesh, overwriting Fisk’s desecration with his own marks. Senna gasped and writhed against him, but he kept her pinned.
“Rex,” she whined. “Need you.”
“You’ll have me,” he rumbled in reassurance, kneeling again to kiss the scrape on her hip that he presumed was from the balcony’s railing. “I’m not going to be gentle. Is that alright?” He met her eyes again, wanting to ensure she understood what she was getting herself into. He couldn’t be tender tonight, not with the way he craved her. Maybe after, but right then, he needed to leave his mark in every way imaginable, to claim her in any way he could. He would stop right now if she didn’t want it, but if she’d allow him…
Senna’s eyes were practically glowing, and he could feel her trembling underneath his hands.
“I won’t break,” she whispered, nodding at him. “Not as long as I’m yours.”
It was all the permission he needed, pushing Senna back against the glass as he pressed his mouth against her, dragging his teeth along the scrape on her hip and drawing a hiss from her. Fingernails grazed his scalp through his hair, and he sucked a bruise into her soft skin, tasting the slight tang of her blood. He ran his tongue along the damaged flesh before leaving another bruise. The scrape wrapped around her waist, and he spun her, pressing her against the wall again as he sucked another mark, leaving Senna gasping again.
Claiming. Worshipping. Branding.
His fingers found their way between her legs, slipping into her with ease. She was soaked, and he could feel her arousal sliding over the pads of his fingers. He relented on her waist long enough to suck his fingertips clean, unable to keep a groan from ripping through him as the taste of her flooded his tongue.
“Fisk may have tried,” he rumbled, “but only I know how sweet you actually taste.”
He never had this. And he never will.
The thought thrilled him.
“More, Rex,” Senna begged. “Please.”
“Anything for you, love.” He slid his fingers back into her, searching for the spongy place that he knew would make her scream as he nipped at her ass with his teeth, squeezing the tender flesh with the hand that wasn’t buried in her cunt. He studied the way her legs shook, memorized the way her muscles tensed, the way her fingers clawed through the fog on the glass. It made his cock throb. He felt her clench around his fingers, a fresh wave of arousal dribbling over his knuckles, and he couldn’t wait another moment.
All this. Just for me.
Rex stood, kicking Senna’s feet apart and placing a hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her forward as his other hand pulled her hips back against him, adjusting her to his liking before he plunged his cock into her. Normally, he’d have taken his time, stretching her out, but Senna’s body had grown accustomed to him, his cock easily nestling in the place inside of her that was his, that had adjusted to fit him and him alone. She cried out, pressing back into him as he began fucking her with a desperation he hadn’t felt since the first night she’d let him have her. He wasn’t sure he’d ever needed her this badly, needed to hear her come undone for him.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
“I’m yours, Rex. All yours.”
He wasn’t sure if he’d spoken aloud or if she could just read his thoughts that easily, but he didn’t care. His fingers dug into her hips, ensuring there would be a set of prints that were left as a reminder of him.
“Say it again,” he grunted, pressing closer and interlacing his fingers with one of her hands pressed against the glass. His hips made an obscene wet slapping sound as they met her ass with each thrust. Glancing over her shoulder, he could just make out their forms in the mirror outside of the shower. He could see how Senna’s face was twisted in pleasure, her brow furrowed and her mouth parted in a quiet scream, her breath leaving small puffs of fog on the walls of the shower. Her body was just visible through the steam, perfectly cut with muscle from her years of dedication to her craft, strong and scarred, displaying the evidence of all she’d worked for and all she’d endured, but somehow still gentle in the way it sloped and curved. She was powerful, but here she was, allowing him to pull her apart, surrendering to him as he plucked his pleasure from her like a ripened fruit from a branch. She was perfect, and he groaned at the sight of her.
“I’m yours, Rex. F-fuck. I’m yours.”
Not a single dream or fantasy Rex had ever had come close to this. He could feel her walls clench around him, making him want to reach deep enough inside of her to practically take root. She felt soft, warm, pliable under his touch, and her fingers squeezed his tighter as her moans and whines crescendoed.
“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”
“Yes. Maker above, yes. Please let me. I-I’m so close.”
“I can feel it,” he rumbled, redoubling his efforts. He leaned even closer, his lips pressed against her ear. “Who do you belong to?”
“Y-you.”
He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled his lips taut into a snarl. “And who owns this sweet little cunt?”
Senna’s head whipped around so that she could look at him. Tendrils of her hair stuck to her face and neck, and her expression was a silent plea, a concession, a surrender, and he relished in it. Her eyes glanced at his lips before flicking back up to meet his expectant gaze.
“You do.”
Rex’s teeth clamped against the skin of Senna’s shoulder as he angled his hips in the way he knew would break her, and he thought she might shatter the glass of the shower wall with how hard her palm slapped the panel as she came with a gasp, shuddering in his grip. Her legs buckled, but he held her up, resting his forehead against her shoulder and panting. They stayed like that, catching their breath until he finally felt her plant her feet more firmly on the tile. Reaching over, he turned the water off, guiding her out of the shower with him. She allowed him to gently towel her off before he pulled her towards the bed they shared. He didn’t have to ask her for anything; she fell forward on her hands and knees, crawling up the mattress and presenting her glistening cunt to him in invitation. Rain slammed against the windows, and lightning lit up the room briefly, illuminating Senna’s form and her eyes, staring back at him hungrily over her shoulder.
She knows what I need.
He could already see the places where he’d marked her, fresh bruises blooming on her skin, and he wanted to leave more, to ensure every time she looked in the mirror that all she thought of was him. Striding forward, Rex mounted her, sheathing himself in her in one swift thrust before he resumed fucking her, gripping her hips firmly and taking everything she gave him. Senna melted under his touch, clenching around his cock as she whined and mewled beneath him. It seemed as though she needed this as much as he did, needed to be claimed and reminded that she was his and that Fisk would never touch her again, never have her in the way Rex did.
She was safe. And no matter how rough he got here, she knew that wouldn’t change. She trusted him. She loved him. And she wanted this as badly as he did.
They’d never fucked like this, never with this much desperation and desire and disregard for tenderness. Adrenaline seemed to hang in the air like a fog as the two of them sought release. Where he was greedy, she was gracious, generously allowing him to sate himself with her, even though it felt as though he’d never get enough. Rex drove himself into Senna’s warm, wet heat, ignoring the protests of his muscles and joints.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
His mind chanted the words as Senna’s ass rippled against him with each snap of his hips, his fingers digging into her soft skin once more as he pushed himself as deep as he could reach inside her. The moment he’d seen Fisk recognize her, he’d feared that everything would come undone, that they’d be captured, imprisoned, likely killed. In that instance between one breath and the next as he’d watched Fisk’s eyes widen in recognition, he’d felt certain the future he’d planned with Senna was being ripped away, and his heart had ached as though it was being rent apart at the thought. Now, those few seconds fueled his desperation as he relished in all that he’d feared he’d lost. He adjusted so his knees were outside of hers, laying his full weight on top of her and driving his hips into her again. Senna allowed herself to be flattened against the bed, arching her spine so that he still had the perfect angle, burying her face into the mattress as she screamed. Rex threaded his fingers in her hair, tugging just enough to turn her head. She gasped, and he brushed the hair that was stuck to her sweaty face away.
“I want to hear you, Senna. Every sound you make.”
He rested his forehead against her temple, panting against her cheek.
“You’re mine. Only mine.”
“Yours,” she whimpered, reaching for his hand. Rex intertwined his fingers with hers as his pace slowed to a steady, deep grind. Senna sighed when he bottomed out, and he felt her shudder beneath him. He could feel her pulse, her breathing, the way her body pressed against his when he rutted into her, meeting each of his thrusts.
I can never lose her. I need this. I need her.
Forever.
“He’ll never touch you again,” he rasped. “No one will ever touch you again.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Only you.”
He pulled out, flipping her onto her back roughly before settling between her legs again, gripping her thigh and pressing his forehead to hers as he pushed his cock back into her.
“I love you,” he panted. “I love you so much.” The words almost tasted new on his tongue as revelation seeped in, a second chance granted by the universe that he was determined to not waste.
Senna reached up and wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck. “I love you too, Rex.” Her eyes bored into his in the dim lighting, saying all the things that words could never adequately convey.
Rex increased his pace, feeling his climax finally approach. “I love you,” he gasped out again. “I love you.” He repeated it like a mantra, and Senna echoed the words back. She was going to orgasm again; he could feel her tightening around him.
“W-with me?” he asked.
She nodded, whining quietly as she pulled him down into a kiss, digging her teeth into his lip.
He mumbled against her mouth before she stole the oxygen from his lungs, kissing him even harder, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Her fingernails dug into his back as she frantically ground against him. The wet slapping sounds of their colliding bodies echoed throughout the room, their panting and groaning growing louder as they shepherded each other towards the precipice. Rex finally couldn’t take it anymore, and he gasped against Senna’s lips, emptying himself into her with a shudder. She tipped over the edge with him, clenching tightly as she cried out, shuddering in his grasp.
They lay there breathlessly as the coolness of the room kissed their sweat-soaked skin. After a few moments, Rex carefully shifted, slipping down between Senna’s legs. She groaned in a half-hearted protest as he guided her knees over his shoulders, pulling her hips to his waiting mouth. Her whines transformed to whimpers with the first flick of his tongue. Rex devoured her languidly, tasting his own spend intermingled with Senna’s. She was sensitive at first, twitching and trembling as his breath danced across the overstimulated bundle of nerves between her legs, but he held her still, gently delving deeper until he felt her relax in his grip. When her fingers finally scraped his scalp in encouragement, her hips bucking to meet his ministrations, he became ravenous. His cock hardened again, weeping against the sheets, and he ground into the mattress. He groaned into her, and Senna arched her back, chest heaving as she whispered his name like a prayer. Closing his eyes, Rex lost himself in her heat and the feel of her cunt against his tongue, the brush of her thighs against his cheeks, the slick of her arousal on his chin. He’d have stayed there forever if she hadn’t cradled his face, pulling him to her mouth and kissing him hard as she wrapped her legs around him. His cock easily slipped back inside of her, and she was somehow even tighter around him as they found their rhythm again.
They gorged themselves on one another for hours, only breaking apart long enough for their bodies to recover before joining themselves together again. Senna rode Rex, hands braced against the headboard as he guided her hips along his length, brows pinched in concentration. He took her from behind again, pounding into her as she screamed. He cradled her in his lap as he lifted her up and down, spearing her on his length while he sucked bruises and left bites across her breasts. He laid behind her with one of her legs pulled over his hip so that he could angle himself as deep as he could reach as he tugged at her nipples and toyed with her clit. He wanted all of her in any way he could think of, and she gave herself to him willingly, pleading at times to be fucked in the ways only he could give her. At some point, the tension Rex felt faded to tenderness, and he lost himself in Senna. There was a freedom to it, as if some sort of oppressive weight had been lifted. It was a celebration, a consummation, a thirst being slaked, and a promise being made.
The storm abated eventually, and in the silence, Rex relished in the sounds of Senna falling apart underneath him.
“Give me one more,” he grunted against her neck. Fisk’s fingerprints on her throat had long been covered by new bruises from Rex, and he was in the process of leaving on more, his teeth grazing a fresh mark that had caused Senna to dig her nails into his shoulders in a way that made his cock throb inside her. He was close, but he wanted to hear her cry out for him one last time.
“I-I don’t know if I c-can,” she whimpered. He could feel her legs quaking on either side of him, but he was patient, determined, not to be denied.
“I know you can, love,” he reassured, drawing back so that his nose brushed hers. Despite his exhaustion and the way his muscles were screaming at him, the way she looked at him sent electricity coursing through every cell of his body. Her chest heaved, sweat dribbling down between her breasts. Her hair was stuck to her collarbone, and he admired the marks he’d peppered across the skin there. A drop of sweat from his nose fell, joining the rivulet on her sternum. Rex leaned down, trailing his tongue along the line of perspiration before taking one nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked the bud, and he felt it harden in response. He sucked gently, and Senna arched into him with a stuttering moan.
“One more,” he mumbled into her skin. He pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing circles in the way he knew she liked, and he felt her shudder. Releasing her breast, he blew gently across her nipple, grinning as she jolted at the feel of the cool air on the sensitive bud. He trailed up her throat, nuzzling against the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her jaw. “One more, Senna.”
“You always want one more,” she muttered.
He chuckled, adjusting his hips just enough to send a moan of pleasure punching through her half-hearted grumbling. “Don’t expect that to change anytime soon.”
She whined and writhed beneath him, clawing at him as she began meeting his thrusts again.
“J-just like this,” she begged, and he obliged, never altering his pace despite the protests of his muscles and joints. She was close, he could feel it, and he would break his body before he’d deprive her or himself of this one last moment of ecstasy. He felt her clench around him again, and she fucked him back harder, her eyes closing and her brow furrowing in concentration.
“I-I-I’m–” she stuttered.
“You’re mine,” Rex growled. “Forever.”
Her eyes flew open, staring into his as her hands flew to the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to hers. Her eyes coaxed him to the edge, a plea visible in their deep blue depths that echoed the waters of his homeworld. He’d have happily drowned in her irises if it was somehow possible, he was sure.
“Again,” she begged.
“You’re mine,” he breathed against her lips.
She nodded vigorously, her nose grazing his.
“Y-yours. Forever.”
He gasped into her mouth, his orgasm roaring through him unexpectedly at her words. His hips stuttered, and he worried he’d ruined her climax, but Senna’s fingers slipped between them as she kept one hand locked around the back of his neck. Her chin jutted out as she frantically circled her clit, and Rex found himself still fucking her, even as his spend leaked out around his softening cock.
“Rex, gods, Rex, I-I’m gonna–”
“Please,” he whispered, ignoring the way his body was trembling. “Give it to me.”
She did, her legs spasming as he felt her soak the bed underneath them. Her spine arched, and he cradled her, panting against her chest as she cried out, riding the seemingly endless waves of her orgasm. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, the scratches stinging as she frantically clawed at him like he was the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. He was certain she was leaving plenty of marks of her own for him to find in the morning, but he couldn’t be bothered to care, not as he watched her come undone for him.
When her body finally relaxed, he slipped from inside her with a shudder and rolled next to her, pulling the damp sheets up to cover the two of them. Senna snuggled closer, and he slid his arm under her neck, cradling her as he gently brushed the hair from her face, his fingers lingering against the cheek Fisk had struck. She flinched, but when he tried to pull his hand away, she caught it, pressing his palm against the swelling. Her eyes fluttered open, glittering nebulas that seemed to pierce him from beneath dark lashes. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her forehead.
“Thank you for that,” he murmured. Gently taking her right hand, he kissed her bruised knuckles before placing another kiss on the inside of her wrist. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”
Senna wrapped her arms around him, her thumbs stroking his back as she nuzzled into his chest.
“You came at the perfect time.”
Rex rested his chin against the top of her head.
“He hurt you before I could get to you.”
“Yeah, but I needed to win that one on my own,” she replied quietly. “For me.”
He hummed, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. “I knew you would.”
It didn’t take long for Senna’s breathing to level out into a deep rhythm and eventually into soft snores, but Rex lay awake, reveling in the stillness. Something had shifted deep within him, but rather than feeling off balance, he felt more grounded than ever. He felt safe. He felt at peace. He felt understood and adored. He’d known he loved Senna, but to love someone is different than being unable to imagine a future without them. They’d promised to explore it together, to see where things went and figure it out. She’d asked him how he saw it ending, and he’d hemmed and hawed around an answer, afraid of misstepping. They’d picked out a name, but had still hedged their bets, just in case.
But there was no doubt in his mind now.
There was no future where he would not love Senna. There was no future where he wanted to be without her.
Lover. Partner. Husband. The title didn’t matter to him. He just couldn’t be without her again.
The realization brought him a tranquility he’d never known, as if his past and future had finally reached an accord, a reconciliation of all that he was and all he’d done that would permit him to have the thing he wanted most. In a life that had frequently been defined by unpredictability and tragedy, lived day to day and battle by battle, he’d never really made plans or promises that extended beyond what he knew for certain.
Senna was the plan now, in whatever shape that took. And he’d promise her that when the time was right.
—
A soft knock at the bedroom door the next day roused Senna from a heavy slumber. Blinking the last remnants of sleep away, she heard the door hiss open and Rex speak quietly to the person on the other side. It sounded like Antilles, but she couldn’t be sure. She lay still, trying to overhear. The sun was high in the sky, and her stomach rumbled loudly, confirming her suspicion that it was well after mid-day. She wasn’t sure what time she and Rex had drifted off, but had little doubt that it had been closer to dawn than dusk. No dreams had haunted her, and the only time she’d woken up, she’d found Rex still holding her, snoring softly.
The door clicked shut and the mattress sank down behind her. Rolling over, she found Rex watching her. He’d slipped pants on to answer the door, but the sunlight danced across his bare chest, illuminating the scars that peppered his skin and the remnants of some scratches on his shoulder, which were accompanied by a few love-bitten bruises. Her face heated slightly at the thought of Antilles noticing those.
Rex smiled down at her, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “Sleep alright?” he asked.
“Yes.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “What’s wrong?”
Rex’s mouth drew into a thin, tight line. “We’re being summoned for a meeting. The Imperials are gone.”
“Fisk?”
“Captain Antilles didn’t provide many details, I’m afraid.”
“What’s your read on it then?” she pressed.
He huffed a laugh, and she saw some of his tension ebb away. “I think he looked tired. Like he’d been up all night, which I suspect he might have been. But he didn’t seem nervous. More relieved than anything. I imagine if things had gone sideways, he wouldn’t have been the one retrieving us. At least, not alone.”
She grinned. “Well, that’s a relief.”
“I suppose.”
“Oh, come on, Captain,” she teased, letting the blankets fall away so she could straddle his lap, cupping his face in her hands. “We won this round. Let yourself relax a little.”
Something in Rex’s expression shifted as he stared up at her, and Senna felt her face flush under his scrutiny. Slowly, he reached up, touching the cheek that Fisk had hit. She leaned into his palm, smiling in a way she hoped was reassuring. “See? Not so bad.”
Rex didn’t answer, his fingers tracing down her jaw and along her throat. She hadn’t seen her reflection yet, but she knew her skin had to also be littered with love bites and bruises, fingerprints and some scratches, and in far greater quantities than what she’d left on Rex. He had been persistent and possessive, and she’d loved it, but now, she flushed as she realized she didn’t have clothes to cover the marks on her neck. A shiver ran through her as Rex cradled one of her breasts, rubbing his thumb over a mark he’d left. His eyes practically glowed with pride and something else she couldn’t quite identify as his hands continued to trail over her, examining his work. Finally, his palms rested against her thighs, and his eyes met hers.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered.
Her body was sore, but the way he was looking at her made her ache in a very particular way deep in her chest. Her breath caught in her throat, but rather than trying to find the words, she leaned down and kissed him. His hand slipped into her hair, and the tenderness contrasted so sharply with the night before that tears leapt to her eyes.
“I love you so much, Senna,” he whispered, brushing his nose against hers. “You understand that, right?”
She sat back on her haunches, searching his eyes. “Of course. And I love you.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he smiled, giving her thighs one last squeeze. She felt his cock twitch against her core, but when she tried to roll her hips against him, Rex held her still. His eyes were alight with interest, and she could see him holding himself in check as he huffed out a laugh.
“We’d better get going, Sen. It wasn’t urgent, but I don’t think Antilles meant for us to waste too much time getting there.”
The shift felt sudden, but Senna decided not to pursue it for now. “Yes, sir,” she muttered with a slight pout, sliding from his lap to retrieve a clean set of clothes. He playfully swatted her ass, but she felt his eyes on her the entire time she dressed, as if she might disappear if he looked away for even a moment. She caught his eye in the mirror as she tied her hair into a bun, giving him an inquiring look.
“Are you alright?”
He smiled, rising from the bed and coming to stand behind her as he pulled a shirt over his head.
“Never better.”
“Promise?” she persisted.
He hummed, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I promise, Master Aven.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Now let’s get going.”
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