#starwarssmut

Anakin withered as he felt your tears drip down his bicep, and slowly under him he sees them on the sheets, making him grow harder. His mouth drops open in a perfect 'O' as he feels your lips on his arm. He was deep inside, on top of you as he choked you with his bicep, your perfect lips attached onto his arm, giving him hickeys and soft bites almost making him drool more than he was.

“A-ani- s too much, can't.. breathe”

Anakin smirks as he looks down and loosens his bicep, your face resting limp against it as you claw against the sheets.

“M’sorry pretty girl, just get too ahead of myself sometimes.”

In the haven of my home, solitude feels like a distant memory. My brothers stand by my side to share my burdens, and even as my mother's final days approach, her presence remains as she guides me to the task of rebuilding our home. She celebrates my son and has embraced Zeala, my mate, as one of her own, teaching her the magics that are her birthright.

Next to me, she rests, my mate and companion, enveloped in the solace that rightfully befits a woman of Dathomir. Her ghostly hair flows like a silken veil across the pillow that she holds close to her chest. Slumbering on her stomach, her arms encircle the pillow she clings to as if finding refuge in its embrace.

The intricate tattoos adorning her form draw my gaze down her body, tracing the delicate curve of her back and waist before disappearing beneath the sheet that grazes her hips. Her very presence in my life is still something of a mystery to me, a riddle I have never been able to solve. 

Companionship. 

It is not something the path of a Sith or Night Brother would have ever afforded to me. As a Sith, lust and embracing of passions was encouraged but such connections led to mercy and mercy was weakness. As a Night Brother the only touch of a woman I would have ever known was as a breeder in servitude to the Night Sisters. Devoid of any sense of equality.

However, Zeala challenges those conventions, carving out her role in my existence as a true equal. Such a thing would have been deemed heretical by both Sith and Night Sisters.

In her presence, I discover a paradox—a connection that feels both forbidden and undeniable. She is mine to protect, mine to touch, sometimes to fight with, and has born my son; complexities that defy my training and upbringing. But I am a Sith no more. And I am not bound by the traditions of the Night Brothers and Night Sisters.

As I contemplate these reflections, her delicate figure stirs, turning on the pillow, arms reaching overhead in a contented stretch. Her naked body is now revealed to my appreciative gaze. Bathed in the moonlight, its gentle glow caresses the curves of her skin, mingling with her tattoos and the various scars from battles she's endured, along with the unmistakable imprints left by carrying my son. A surge of lust courses through my veins and my hearts beat faster. My hands flex with the urge to reach over and touch her, it is overwhelming the sudden desire I have for her; to taste her perfect breasts, to envelope myself in her warmth and make her sing for me. The spectral beauty she possesses stirs sensations within me that at times, I am still learning to understand and control, yet my reverence for her keeps me from waking her. In this quiet contemplation, I make my choice. 

It is time to seek solace in solitude, to find my path amidst the swirling tempest of thoughts and emotions. 

My path leads me down the ancient stone hallways to a chamber which lies mostly bare and unadorned; yet graced by an open balcony that gifts me a panoramic view of Dathomir’s desolately, haunting landscape. Torches cast a gentle, flickering light upon the walls, creating a dance of shadows that mirrors my inner contemplations. 

My legs fold into a familiar cross-legged posture, and I close my eyes, deliberately cutting off the world's visual distractions. Through the balcony, a warm breeze caresses my skin, carrying with it the essence of Dathomir's spirit, both harsh and alluring.

With each breath, I attempt to cast off the shackles of the outside world. Muscles taut from battles struggle to relax, slowly despite my training to always be ready, yielding to the sensation of the breeze and the coolness of the stone beneath me. My breath becomes a lifeline, a guide leading me back to the present moment.

Inhale. Exhale. 

The rhythm of my twin heartbeats reverberate within me, a unique cadence born of Zabrak physiology. This is my anchor, grounding me in the now, granting me a brief reprieve from the chaos that clutters my mind.

As I continue to breathe, the world fades into the background. My consciousness extends, attempting to merge with the land, the air, and the very pulse of the planet. Yet I am further disappointed. Frustration simmers beneath my controlled exterior as my efforts to clear my mind continue to be thwarted by an ever-persistent barrage of thoughts. I release a measured breath, acknowledging my momentary defeat and my shoulders slump as if to surrender to the weight of my internal chaos. 

Suddenly her presence calls to me at the edges of my consciousness. 

I can sense her behind me.

The very air changes as she silently observes my struggles. She waits quietly for a few moments before seeking me out. Trying to ascertain whether I am receptive to her presence or if she should leave me, but the truth of the matter is, that it is a rare occasion that I do not desire her closeness. Even in my most angered state, when I feel more beast than man and pulse with anger powerful enough to rip worlds apart, Zeala’s presence, her touch, and her very breath on my skin soothes me; and I do not understand it. 

Her footfalls are soft against the stone floor, approaching as if trying not to startle a skittish creature. I find myself contemplating if that is the lens through which she views me. However, there is no need for her to tread so cautiously, I hold an unspoken devotion to my mate that runs so deep, that I would readily offer my very lifeblood before ever causing her a shred of harm.

A ripple of awareness draws my focus to the cool touch of her hand gliding across my back. She kneels behind me and I can feel the warmth of her breath on my skin as her forehead rests between my shoulder blades—the gesture is both intimate and grounding. This is the sensation I yearn for when thoughts of her consume my mind. And that is the puzzling part—no Night Brother has ever experienced such a connection with a Night Sister. Regardless of how and where Zeala and I met and what our courses are, she is, at her core, a Dathomirian woman. And this union we have, this connection we share is unusual for our shared culture.

Our bond is unparalleled, defying the norms of our customs. It is more than mere intimacy—it is a bond unlike any other. She comprehends me, understanding my thoughts and desires sometimes before I even realize them myself. In another life, the ways of the Sith would dictate severing all connections with her, perhaps even snuffing out her life; viewing her as a vulnerability not to be tolerated. But I am no longer a Sith; I have become Maul once more, son of Dathomir. While the grip of the Sith teachings has weakened, their lessons remain deeply ingrained, making it challenging to dismiss them entirely.

In the customs of our people, parity would elude us; I would assume a subservient role to her, bowing to her, her wishes and whims guiding my stars. If she commanded, offer my blood for any cause she deems worthy. I would exist to serve her, aiming to bring her pleasure; a life not wretched compared to my past horrors. Nonetheless, the intimacy we embrace would not be sanctioned, our cohabitation forbidden. Her absence from my side in our shared bed breeds frustration. 

Gradually, these musings disperse, replaced by a hint of a smile as I savor the wordless tenderness she offers. It is a curious revelation, having spent a lifetime devoid of such connections or sensations, yet finding myself relishing them so profoundly, yearning for their presence. The whisper of her breath caresses my spine gently, a subtle disruption to my usual composure. With my eyes firmly shut, I maintain my focus, her proximity an intermittent interruption in my concentration.

Breaking the silence with a quiet and knowing tone, I address the situation, curious about the disturbance that has roused her from what should be a peaceful slumber. 

“What has awakened you?”

"I could hear the thunder of your thoughts," She remarks in a whisper, her voice a blend of tenderness and desire. It is a comparison that always catches me by surprise, a reminder of her unique connection to my inner world, even though she cannot truly read my mind.

“I highly doubt that.” My tone is light-hearted with amusement, as I release a breath and temporarily abandon my efforts. "I did not want to disturb your rest." It often surprises me how I think of her well-being before my own. 

I shift my gaze toward her, allowing her fingers to glide up my neck, their delicate trail making its way to trace the creased lines on my forehead. Only Zeala possesses the ability to offer such a touch—one that carries a deep tranquility; a connection that is exclusively ours. I convey how my thoughts were a jumble, too intricate to disturb her slumber, hence why I turned to meditation for solace. Her touch persists, a soothing caress mapping the lines etched into my skin.

“How is your meditation progressing?” I scoff and don’t answer immediately, 

"Focus eludes me." I further the sentiment with a dry tone. “Though it is difficult to find focus with such distractions, your touch for instance.”

“Perhaps you should channel that focus and teach me.” 

Zeala is not a patient woman, and the notion of teaching her such a disciplined exercise as meditation draws genuine amusement from me.

"It might serve you well, considering your temper." 

A thousand images of Zeala in various states of anger flash through my thoughts, most of them linked to her role as our son's mother. Her fury rivals even that of my mother, rendering her a truly formidable force—one I have no desire to challenge. Yet, oddly enough, witnessing her in such moments has only heightened my admiration for her and intensified my attraction toward her. To witness the extent of her ferocity as she safeguards our son, my son, stirs something within me, a connection that's both difficult to explain and impossible to ignore.

“Are you saying I’m hot-headed?’

“Yes,” I respond bluntly.

“My temper is nothing compared to yours.” She counters, clearly not offended.

“If that is your belief...”

"My assertion isn't a mere opinion; it's a factual observation. Or have you forgotten the fate you bestowed upon Garyss?" 

Yes. That.

A snarl curls my lip as I recall the man who dared extort the mother of my son. 

The memory of his audacity, his touch on my Zeala, ignites a fire in me. The repugnant thought of his filth marring my mate lingers. The knowledge of his punishment fails to quell my rage, no matter the price he paid. My posture tightens and my fists clench.

I recalla vividly his fear and screams fueling a devious grin, a fate that was well deserved and yet was not brutal enough. Zeala is mostly right, and her observations are correct to a degree. 

"You're not entirely innocent in matters of retribution either. Both Savage and I bore witness to your fierce attack against that Twi'lek girl who dared to vie for my attention in your presence." It was quite the spectacle, a sight forever etched in my memory, to see her stake a claim over me. 

A shadowy chuckle brushes my ear, the sensation of the sharp edges of her sharp teeth following, accompanied by a sinister tone. 

“She won’t make such a mistake again.” Zeala asserting her possession of me in that wicked whisper, I cannot help but wonder if my declarations also ignite similar emotions within her. 

"Meditation might offer you the balance you seek." 

"Teach me, then. Your discipline might rub off on me." As her lips find my ear once more, her voice whispers, telling me to instruct her, one I struggle to resist.

The warmth of her lips, a tender touch that trails along my spine, resonates deeply within me. Her presence, her breath, her soft words, all contribute to a growing intimacy that beckons as much as it distracts. The very notion is unexpected, yet a part of me is intrigued by her willingness to explore this practice with me.

With a controlled exhalation, I slowly shift my head, just enough to acknowledge her presence and her request. Her bewitching violet eyes hold mine, and I find myself drawn into her gaze, those unusual depths that could drown me. 

I nod in agreement. It is then that I notice she has donned my black robe, wrapped in its darkness that contrasts the pallor of her perfect skin. The robe's oversized nature drapes around her like a luxurious blanket, covering her form yet hinting at the fact that she wears nothing else. The possessive thought that she's wearing only my robe is both alluring and intoxicating, deepening the connection between us in a way that stirs something primal within me.

She has done this on purpose.

As I narrow my gaze at her, a knowing smile tugs at her lips. She has taken a calculated step with her choice of attire, and she is fully aware of the effect it is having on me.

“Sit comfortably,”

She follows my instruction to sit, though not as I expected her to. Instead of mirroring my position and posture, she instead, positions herself in my lap, straddling me. It is an unconventional posture, one that defies tradition and expectation. Her hands find purchase on my shoulders, and her forehead presses against mine. Never before has such an intimate pose of meditation been assumed and for a moment I think she cannot be serious so I pose the question.

“Are you truly committed to this?” My tone is a dry mix of skepticism and curiosity, as I wonder if this is some kind of jest – and yet, a part of me hopes it is not. I follow up with a comment on her unique approach, stating, "Your approach is… unorthodox."

Yet, even as I speak, I cannot deny the undercurrent of affection in my words, nor how enjoyable I find this to be. 

I instruct her to focus on her breathing, to let go of the tension that clings to her form. As our breaths sync, her body relaxes against mine. Our breaths intermingle, drawing us into a shared rhythm, a connection that is both unusual and intriguing.

Her thumbs tracing soft patterns on my shoulders invite a question, a challenge. "Is that for my benefit or yours?" I ask, my voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Her response is honest, confessing that touching me does indeed relax her, it comes as  a surprise to me. I find myself mirroring her gesture, my hands lightly stroking her lower back, the touch invoking a subtle shiver that courses through her.

Strange woman, indeed.

I resign myself to Zeala's unusual approach, adjusting her posture ever so slightly, as well as my own. I instruct her to clear her mind and to let go of thoughts of training, responsibilities, and all distractions. My voice is steady and commanding, a reflection of the leadership role I often inhabit. But in this private moment, it is different— I am guiding her, not as a Sith Lord or a Night Brother, but as a partner.

"Clear your mind," I remind her. "Aim for an absence of all stimuli." I watch her closely as she adjusts her position in my lap as if accommodating my teaching, her chest rises against mine as our breaths synchronize. My gaze narrows slightly, and I question whether she understands the reaction her body is going to prompt from mine. The tiniest curve to her lips tells me that she is fully aware.

I add a more challenging instruction, my voice lowering slightly. "Purge your mind of all desires." It is a test, a way to see if she truly understands the depth of focus that true meditation requires. The nature of our closeness is a distraction in itself, but I want to see if she's able to set aside even those desires in pursuit of the meditative state.

I continue, my voice a steady guide. "Let your body relax." It is a strange juxtaposition—guiding her in meditation while she's seated in my lap, both of us so close, yet striving for a state of mental detachment. It is a challenge, to the strength of her mind.

Amid the intimacy of our shared breaths and gentle touches, I guide her with a single word. "Breathe," I murmur, a directive that extends beyond the realm of meditation, a reminder to embrace the present moment.

Time unfolds with its rhythm, and our breaths intertwine as we share a moment of profound intimacy. I sense the currents of energy between us, a peculiar connection that reaches beyond the mere act of meditation. My mind begins to settle, finding a semblance of relief amidst the chaos that usually engulfs it. The weight of my responsibilities and the constant battles fade, if only for a fleeting moment.

Yet, this respite is short-lived as I detect a shift in Zeala's thoughts. I cannot read them as I would an open book, but the undercurrents of her consciousness are unmistakable. She is thinking of me. A fact that should be incongruous with the state of thoughtlessness this meditation aims to achieve. 

My eyes flicker open. Her presence, so near and enveloping, is both comforting and distracting, her curves pressed against my muscled torso. My irritation surfaces as I realize that the robe she procured from me, is slipping off her shoulders, leaving little to my imagination. I inwardly grumble at the situation, annoyance, and arousal swirling within me.

Despite my inner turmoil, she appears serene, her calm façade against my internal storm. I can sense her thoughts taking a more intimate direction, a current of desire and longing that courses through her, coming off in waves, she likely does not even realize she is doing it. 

It is a shift that puzzles me initially. Is she merely pretending? Yet, as I study her more closely, I come to realize that her calm is genuine, her thoughts unclouded by deception.

The peculiar absence of nothingness in her thoughts begins to have an unexpected effect on me. A sense of calm begins to wash over me. It is as if her serene thoughts are affecting me, transcending the boundaries of our physical closeness. 

The act of meditation between us has transformed into something different, something more profound. It's as though her tranquility is merging with my own, weaving an unspoken bond between us, transcending the confines of language and reason.

The space between us diminishes to nothing and her body is pressed against mine in ways that make concentrating or clearing my mind impossible. I can feel my body responding to her, my cock stirs and desire floods my veins.

"You are distracting." My voice is full of discontent. “This meditation is futile.” 

She suggests that if I would prefer solitude then she will leave me to my thoughts, her hands exerting a subtle push on my chest as if preparing to withdraw. In response, I grip her waist more firmly pulling her even closer, conveying without words that I want her right here with me.

Zeala's fingers embark on a delicate exploration, gliding from my shoulders down my arms and back up to my neck. The sensation is an odd mixture of pleasure and anticipation, a battle of conflicting emotions that I'm not entirely sure how to process. As her touch ventures upward, following the curve of my neck, it takes on a different quality, an almost tingling sensation that resonates through my core.

Peace and calm, which I had sought through meditation, begin to yield to something entirely different. Desire and longing gradually take their place, like tendrils curling around my thoughts. 

Her voice pierces the quiet, breaking the stillness like a gentle ripple in a pond. "Why can't you sleep?" I don't respond immediately, instead, I resort to a jest, attempting to lighten the weight of her question.

“My mate is sitting naked in my lap,” I reply dryly, my words carry a touch of amusement. Her presence, clad in my robe but barely held in place by her posture, is a distraction that I find both tantalizing and vexing. It makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

“Not naked,” she counters.

“Indeed, appropriate attire,” I remark, my tone sardonic as I take in the sight before me. The robe's precarious position on her form is testing my resolve. “Or lack thereof.” There's a subtle, reserved mockery in my voice, a tone I reserve solely for Zeala.

Her eyes open, meeting my gaze with a mischievous glint. “I thought you had mastered meditation,” she taunts, daring me with that enticing tone.

"Indeed, long before you were even aware of the concept," I remind her, a touch of pride underscores my words. But her next words are a tantalizing proposition, a daring challenge that holds a promise of testing my self-discipline. 

“Then you won’t mind a challenge.” 

She relaxes her posture completely, allowing the robe to slip from her shoulders, and it falls to the ground pooling around us, she has my full attention and she’s keenly aware of it. Astonishingly, I manage to maintain eye contact, despite the temptation presented by her actions. I have seen her naked a hundred times but the pull to touch her is as strong now as it was the first time.

“Witch.” 

"Your concentration leaves much to be desired.” She observes my struggles, and it’s clear she’s amused by my predicament. “Am I still distracting you, cyar’ika?” Her voice is akin to a purr and it sets my nerves aflame.

“Yes.” 

She is quick to remind me that she had offered to leave me to my thoughts, but I declined her offer. "Seems you're discontent no matter what the circumstances," she muses, her fingers continuing to trace gently following the lines etched into my skin.

"You will not be satisfied until you have driven me to the brink of madness." 

"My satisfaction has never been an issue where you are concerned." Zeala’s voice is a melodic murmur meant to excite me.

Just as I am about to unleash my words in a sharp retort, Zeala's gentle touch silences me like a spell. She traces the contours of my lips, "Stop thinking," She commands, the words resonate within me and her unexpected tone leaves me taken aback. It is a tone I have heard many times from her but I have never been on the receiving end of, one that allows no room for argument. Her command cuts through my defenses, and to my surprise, I am unable to hide it, compelled to obey.

She proposes that if finding solace in the absence of thought proves impossible, perhaps I should embrace the swirling currents of my mind instead.

I cannot help but scoff at her suggestion, a retort about the fundamental principles of meditation nearly escapes my lips. However, a glimmer of wisdom in her words gives me pause. 

"What are you thinking about?"

The impulse to remain guarded, to keep my vulnerabilities hidden, is strong, but I find the words escaping my lips. "You."

"Then concentrate on me," she instructs, her gaze unwavering. "My voice, my breath."

Unintentionally, defenses waiver, and my innermost thoughts spill forth as though I have no control over them. "Your scent..."

Without hesitation, Zeala acknowledges and embraces my unspoken desire. She tilts her head back exposing the hollow of her throat and I breathe deeply, allowing her scent to envelop me. "Yes, Maul."

It feels foolish as if I am succumbing to a spell woven by mere desires, not being able to resist the charms of a mere woman, all my years of training fail to serve me. I feel weak and I consider pulling away, to put distance between us and retreat into myself as I always have. I feel as though a dam is threatening to burst inside me and something primal demands to be set loose, and the lack of control terrifies me. I am not one to bow to urges, not one to be controlled by simplistic desires; I control the force around me, and I determine my fate. 

But then, I feel her hands gently touching me in a way I never knew could be pleasurable. I hear the soft cadence of her breathing, its steady rhythm, I feel her heart beating, a steady echo of life. I can smell her, sense her- my mate. Mine. My arms act of their own accord and wrap around her naked body pulling her to me and I lean into her, I begin to feel myself relaxing as my posture slowly begins to shift. I begin to feel the ease of calm that has eluded me for days and I surrender to her suggestion, allowing her to now guide me.

Zeala's hands continued to trace the intricate lines of my tattoos. The air around us seemed to grow lighter and cooler, and the weight of my thoughts slowly dissipates.

In that moment, what began as a lesson has transformed into something entirely different—a union of minds and souls, an intimate connection that transcends the boundaries of the physical world. In the firelit room, amidst the flickering torchlight and ancient stone walls, my mind still grapples with the unexpected calm that has settled upon me. 

Is this what people mean when they speak of soulmates?

She prompts me to reflect on the purpose of meditation, and I responded with the essence of my practice. 

"To achieve steadiness and focus, and calm,"

Her approval is conveyed in a subtle nod, and her touch moves up my neck—a soothing gesture that grounds me in the present moment. As her fingers dance across my skin, I feel a sense of tranquility settle within me, as if her presence is a tether to some unexplored realm.

“How do you feel?”

Drawing a breath, I follow her rhythm, allowing her to lead me further. "Steady," I murmur, a declaration that resonated with assurance. With each breath that follows, I traverse the landscape of my thoughts, acknowledging the truth that lies beneath. "Focused."

As I exhale, a sense of acceptance unfurls within me. The word I utter holds a quiet revelation, one that carries a sense of wonderment. "Calm," I confess, the syllable carrying the weight of an unfamiliar emotion. It is a state I rarely permit myself to embrace fully.

The progression of her touch continues, lips brushing against my skin as her fingers glide over my arms and up the sides of my face, stopping tantalizingly short of the base of my horns. It is a touch that's both soothing and maddeningly teasing. A low growl rumbles in my throat, a mixture of frustration and desire as I command: 

"More."

 The word hangs in the air, heavy with implication, as the boundaries of our meditation continue to blur.

She hesitates only long enough to make me crave more, then those cool, delicate fingers continue their journey along my crown, from the base of my horns to their very tips and back again. The sensation is electrifying, causing my skin to erupt in goosebumps and my body to shudder in response. The rhythmic motion sets off a series of reactions within me, from the erratic beat of my hearts to the hitch in my breath. I'm overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience, a mixture of pleasure and vulnerability.

Her fingers stroke the contours of my horns, and I find myself unable to control the grip of my hands on her hips. My fingers dig into her flesh, a mixture of desperation and desire fueling my actions, my body aches to become one with hers. My breathing, once steady and measured, becomes shallow and erratic. I find myself whispering a confession that I've kept buried within me. "Stay," I murmur, the words a quiet plea. "I– need you."

It is a confession that I am not accustomed to making and it catches me off guard. My life has been defined by pain, solitude, and the pursuit of power. The companionship that Zeala offers is both foreign and terrifying, a realm of emotions I have long been unaccustomed to, even feared. Yet, despite my resistance, I have come to recognize the significance of her presence in my life.

In the wake of my admission, Zeala's touch persists, her fingers weaving patterns of comfort and intrigue. 

Her words, tinged with playful observation, traced a path of revelation through my consciousness. "I like this meditation." She muses, her touch brushing my earlobe in a gentle caress that gives me chills.

Her words strike a chord within me, encapsulating the truth of our shared experience. What began as a simple attempt to find solace in meditation has transformed into an intimate connection, a unique communion of shared breaths and unspoken understanding. In her presence, I have discovered a new dimension of meditation—one that exists solely between us, an unspoken language of connection and serenity.

“It is too highly flawed to be effective.” I counter, sensing the internal dam straining against the pressure of my emotions. 

“You mean to tell me this doesn’t relax you?” Her voice carries genuine concern, she expects a different answer.

“No,” I growl in response, something hot and carnal burning beneath the surface and I have held it at bay long enough. "It is impossible to find a relaxed state of mind when my cock thickens and aches and every inch of my body demands your touch," My voice is thick with a potent blend of frustration and desire.

Without a moment's hesitation, my actions are resolute, and I crush her mouth against mine in a kiss that defies all inhibitions. In the early stages of my pursuit of Zeala, the concept of a kiss was foreign to me, shrouded in confusion and unfamiliarity. I struggled to discern its purpose, questioning the necessity of such an intimate gesture. At first, the notion of deriving pleasure from such an act eluded me, and I failed to recognize the subtle allure it possessed. My initial reaction was one of caution, even interpreting it as a form of aggression rather than a physical connection.

Under Zeala's alluring instruction, I gradually came to understand the depth and significance of a kiss. Through her guidance, I learned to not only appreciate its nuances but also to derive enjoyment from its intimate embrace. Over time, I honed my skills, mastering the art of the kiss and using it to stoke desire and kindle passion in my mate. With every brush of lips, I can elicit a breathless longing and a hunger for my touch, a mastery that occasionally grants me a strategic advantage, playing to my advantage in unexpected ways.

The kiss is a hungry and passionate exchange that goes beyond mere physical desire. It is a connection that transcends the boundaries of the material world. "Witch," I breathe against her lips, my voice is a low rumble infused with a blend of emotions. This term holds intricate layers of meaning—a fusion of adoration, a sense of being enchanted, and the profound recognition of the spell she casts over me.

My lips meet hers again and she offers no resistance when I seek entry with my tongue, she offers no resistance but embraces me, and her hands stroke their way up my chest. She’s pliable in my hands and I feel her sigh into my mouth with each soft stroke of my tongue against hers. Yet, I am not done. In a voice that is a mere whisper, a secret to be shared between us alone, I speak the words, 

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum," 

The Mando'a  proclamation of love that I seldom utter aloud. Her reaction is subtle, yet I catch it, and I feel it. A gentle inhale, so delicate and filled with fondness, escaping into a soft whimper. I have surprised her, the evidence in her firm embrace that draws me nearer, her grip tightened with an urgency that speaks of her emotions.

With those words, I let her in further, allowing her to witness the vulnerability that lay beneath the veneer of my strength. In her presence, I find acceptance, understanding, and the rare comfort of a companionship that has the power to heal even the deepest of my wounds. Her scent is all over me, she soothes me and her touch leaves me wanting her closer. It is almost unbearable how much I enjoy it. I feel drunk with want and I easily negotiate her into her back, she does not seem bothered by the cold stone floor, no matter either way, I will warm her should she chill.  

Her slender legs wrap around my waist, prompting a lazy thrust of my hips and I savor the sounds she elicits. My arms cage her against the floor. It lacks the comfort of the bed we share but it is too far a walk and my desire has reached its peak. I will have her here, right now. 

Never before has meditation left me in such a state; ravenous, hungry, half mad, and desperate. I want to hear her cry out my name, I want all of Dathomir to hear her sing for me. And sing she will. 

Her nails rake down my chest, the sensation stings at first then it just tickles, my patience with this woman is fractured and I want nothing more than to bury my cock inside her. To make her take all of me and feel her convulse in pleasure as I fuck her without quarter. I can smell her arousal now, her sweet perfume calls to me, and I can feel my mouth watering, whipping me up into a frenzy, and my control splinters further. 

Those clever fingers of hers reach down my chest offering teasing touches to my muscled body searching for my trousers and pulling at the remaining physical barrier between us. I growl like a wild beast when her hand slips inside and grasps my cock, her thumb stroking the hard ridges in a way that makes my entire being falter. A breath claws its way from my lungs and I break our kiss. Physical intimacy has not been a factor in my life, not until I met Zeala but she was quick to school me in the exquisite art of release. 

My breaths are shallow and I try to steady myself to gain an iota of control but she has a game she likes to play, to see how quickly she can bring me to orgasm. In this regard she is the more talented of us both, and she is doing it now. Alternating between softly and firmly stroking my cock, teasing the ridges and her thumb works circles over my head, swirling about the evidence of my desire for her. The sensations are maddening and they are made worse when I feel her lips and tongue graze my nipple. I snarl as my hips thrust into her skilled hand, her touch is fire upon my skin and I need more of it. 

Kriff, this woman. 

I let her have her fun for a few moments but as the seconds slip by I can almost taste her in the air, but it’s not enough, I need to savor her. Need to make her shudder and writhe against me, to make her crave the pleasure that only I can give her. No one can know her as I can. No one can touch her as I can. My grasp is strong yet gentle, as I take her jaw in my hand, conveying a desire to hold her attention. I tilt her face towards mine, wanting to lock eyes with her, to delve into the depths of her gaze, and for a moment, make our connection irrefutably clear.

I stroke her lower lip and the coy minx she is, sets her teeth upon me, her tongue darts out to lick my thumb before sucking softly. 

I demand her to open her lips to me and she does with an abandon that sets my body aflame. I drink deeply of her lips before moving down her body to what it is I truly want. The softness of her breasts is too tempting for me to ignore them any longer, she moans at feeling my teeth nipping and pulling with just enough pressure for it to almost hurt. She thrives off the fine line between pleasure and pain and the revelation first stunned me. I alternate between the harshness of teeth and the soothing strokes of my tongue and lips against her nipples and her body writhes and jolts whenever I do. If I play my hand right I will have her coming undone just from my current ministrations. As time goes on the more sensitive she becomes, a trait I relish using to my advantage. Until she whimpers and she can’t control how she writhes against me, the slightest breath on her skin will send her flying higher than any narcotic could ever hope to achieve. 

As I make my way down her body, my tongue dips into her navel, I can see her breathing is slow and steady but I can feel her body beginning to tense. My breath teases her where I know she wants me most. The warmth of my mouth, the sensual strokes of my tongue, she’s thrumming with need. 

“Test my concentration, will you? Let us see how you fare.” 

Her body opens to me with little provocation and I can feel my lust surge up, demanding I take, and so I do. Her breasts rise in a deep breath which she struggles to conceal as I enjoy her. Although I required guidance on the act of kissing, kissing her this intimately came naturally to me, and I needed little guidance. Slow, leisurely strokes of my tongue against her cunt have her keening against me, her scent permeates the air. I devour her like she’s a treat, and she is. A sweet delicacy only for my enjoyment. Her legs tremble slightly with want as I purposely avoid her clit, I can be cruel sometimes wanting to see how far I can push her till she begs me for exactly what she wants. 

My witch seems to think she can wordlessly coerce me into submitting by gently touching the base of my horns once more. She pushes herself up on her elbows and her reach is extended, I can feel her eyes on me. Her fingers stroke my crown with more assertion, aiming for a less delicate approach and I feel its effects immediately. The tremors that race throughout my body and my cock twitches with need, my zabrack physiology works against me now.

A growl rumbles deep within me as I harness the power of the Forces symphony of unseen energies bending to my command. With a purposeful gesture, I direct these cosmic currents, orchestrating their unseen embrace. Her form, once upright, yields to my unseen will, her arms gently pinned above her head, surrendering to my influence. 

I sense her strength, a formidable energy that dances within her, yet my connection to the vast cosmic web is more refined, more potent. I see the spark in her eyes, the intrigue of relinquishing control, of being enveloped in the inescapable grasp of my touch. It's a dance we share, a unique understanding that only she and I comprehend.

Sly amusement curls the corner of my mouth, a private expression meant solely for Zeala's gaze. In this moment, our connection pulses with unspoken understanding, a dance of power and desire, a mesmerizing duet between two souls who share something rare and exhilarating.

My hands wrap around her soft thighs giving her no means of escaping me. Only when she is at my mercy do I truly enjoy her, my lips, tongue, and occasionally my teeth tease her, coaxing more and more labored breathing from her. Her breathing transforms before my ears, a subtle shift that reveals to me her internal struggle. From the initial composed, practiced breaths, a hint of excitement and anticipation creeps in, causing a mild acceleration. But I don’t stop there; as my intimate kiss deepens, her mews and whimpers are laden with an undeniable urgency, a manifestation of her desire that resonates powerfully in the air. Her rhythm is now a symphony of need, a melody of longing. Such sweet sounds and I relish each one. Truly, I know her body so well that I could have her coming apart for me within seconds but drawing it out like this is so much more enjoyable. I have always taken my time in this act, and I will not be rushed.

The first time she cried my name in desperation, I felt a rush that nearly overwhelmed my senses. Hearing her voice, pleading for my touch, was a sensation beyond anything I could have imagined. More powerful than any Force ability I have ever utilized. The words she uttered, so filled with need, were a revelation I had not anticipated—nor had I foreseen the intensity of my craving to hear them again. It is a sensation as exhilarating as any battle won and as sweet as victory itself, yet still, nothing quite compares.

I can feel her body tighten as I stroke her warmth with a single finger, then another joins it and another. I want her ready for me, although judging by how she soaks my hand and quenches my thirst, it won’t take much to ensure she takes me effortlessly. The dual stimulation drives her harder and faster toward her peak. She continues to make sweet sounds for me and they grow in need.

I can feel when she is reaching that delicious crest, ready to tip over and I know a hundred ways in which to make her fall. She pulls at the invisible bonds that hold her down as I lap at her throbbing clit with featherlight strokes, my tongue over each growing more firm and my slicked fingers continue stroking and curling inside her until I hear it. 

My name.

She’s full of desperation and there’s a need in her voice as her body is wracked with pleasure. Her hips twist and turn, her body shudders against the onslaught that is my kiss and while I slow my assault, I do not stop. 

I can’t. The way she cries; “Yes, yes, yes!”  And the most sinful of her cries, a fragile and wanton “Please…” I need to taste her more until she’s spent, I don’t know why, but I relish in this power. A power over her body, to bestow endless pleasure instead of pain to know how and where to touch her. To see her revel in the throws of an orgasm while simultaneously almost unable to handle its intensity. 

It is a cruelty that as pleasure envelopes her, her body becomes more and more sensitive to the extent that pleasure merges and becomes one with pain. Were it within the scope of my control, it would not be that way, I would never see her in any discomfort… but I know she can take a little more.

So I push her as the waves traverse her body and she writhes against my mouth a slave to my hunger, but my only whim is to see her come fully undone again before I seek my release. It happens so quickly, it always does. It takes so little, such a light touch to her already aching and sensitive clit and she’s coming again, her lips part in a wordless cry. Her hips and back tries to arch off the ground but she is still trapped by my will, unable to move unless I permit it. She curses in our shared tongue of Mando’a, and says all manner of things meant to excite me and they all do. She cries for me to never stop but the trembling in her voice tells me she is struggling with the endless waves of pleasure and begs me to fuck her. Were I less of a man, I might have lost myself then and there to the erotic display, my mate, my Zeala lost in the throes of passion, pleasure and sex. 

I release her quivering flesh from my mouth, relinquishing my hold over her, returning her freedom to her, and she’s quick to rise and return to my lap, forcing her tongue into my mouth. She overwhelms me with her aggression and it stirs something in me, knowing she isn’t yet sated and she won’t be until she feels my cock sheathed inside her body. Until I’ve marked her with my seed, I hurriedly work the trousers off my hips just enough that I can take her. There’s time later for there to be nothing at all between us but right now I ache for her, I need to feel her engulf me and feel her walls welcome my stiff cock. Need to be safe within her warmth and presence. I feel only need.

Her hands stroke the ridges on my cock once more and I heave in several short breaths, I hiss at her touch, her eyes bore into mine and I am falling into an abyss as she sinks onto my cock. The breath is pulled from my lungs and her mouth is on mine. She licks at the remnants of her release lingering on my tongue. Clutching onto me as though if she doesn’t I will fade from her grasp. Her walls grip me and I struggle to remember how to breathe. It’s always like this no matter how hard, or how many times I have her, it is as though she was made for only me. Perhaps fate has chosen to be kinder to me now, to give me such a woman. 

For a moment we are motionless, there is only the sound of our breathing and the feel of her lips against mine. Her nails dig into my shoulders and the sting is perfect, her thighs squeeze my legs with each slow and lazy thrust as I begin to move. Her lips part and tremble as she arches her back against me and I gain control of my breathing once more, I can never tire of this, never. Not of this act, not of this woman, the stars would burn out into nothingness first. And it is Zeala who breaks our intimate silence with a command that I can’t ignore. 

“More.”

I don’t even bother acknowledging her request with a nod or an answer, I only obey a slave to desire. I have to shift our position slightly but once I do I withdraw from her and thrust back up. I grit my teeth at the sensation, the heat of her body, the slickness that coats my cock, and how she squeezes me exquisitely. 

My thrusts are slow and deep at first, I need to savor each time her walls clench around me. I need to know she’s as lost in pleasure as I am. She utters my name again with greater urgency. This woman wants me. I’m a monster but I am her monster.

“You’re holding back… don’t.” She clings to me and she forces her tongue into my mouth. I accept it greedily, but I maintain my relaxed pace despite how I know she wants me. “Maul! Please…” She’s insatiable, she craves a faster pace and a harder one. Who am I to deny her what she desires?

I will rip apart the fabric of reality if it offends her so, I will tear down civilizations and erase entire cultures of the annals of history should she ask it of me. 

Her fingers weave through my horns with a touch that sends pure electricity through my body and I thrust harder, faster. I can hear my grunts match hers each time I impale her on my cock. She trembles as my hard ridges stroke places in her no other man has, or ever will reach. I wonder if this was what she intended from the moment she crawled into my lap, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest right now. 

I cannot manage words, only groans and growls, noises more akin to a wild beast but right now I am such a creature. Her hands on my chest cause me to slow my pace and I relent slightly, uncertain as to what she wants. She pushes me down, flat on my back and my legs straighten from the cramped position I was sitting in, a feral sound claws past my lips when she sinks into my cock and I am lost in the pleasure of my mate’s heat and her scent. The steady rock of her hips against mine racks my body with tremors as she rides me, ‘Sweet Mother’. I allow my eyes to close and the sensations to course through me, my chest heaves in a breath as my cock throbs each time she slides upon it, impaling herself. It is good, so good I cannot be bothered to think of anything else. There is no Dathomir, no galaxy, no Force, no Jedi, no Sith, nothing. There is only Zeala and I.

I force my eyes open, feeling drunk, and the room blurs and spins. Everything is out of focus, save for Zeala. Rocking herself on my cock, her hands stroking her breasts, using my body for her pleasure and only for hers. She grips me like a vice and I am powerless, truly powerless as she brings herself closer to another orgasm, I can only watch as this creature who makes my blood burn and my hearts thunder, fucks herself. Every inch of her is mine and no other man will ever see her or touch her, it incites a powerful shockwave through my body and I can feel the rush of my impending release. I can do nothing to stop it and I don’t care to. My breath comes in short gasps and I growl as those white hit waves lap at me, threatening to drown me in electric shockwaves. 

Zeala slows her rocking and is quick to climb off my cock but before I can voice my displeasure; her mouth, her perfectly wicked mouth and tongue lavish my cock with attention. Her tongue licks up and down my length before swallowing me. I can feel the back of her throat brushing my head, it is perfect and something primal in me wants to see her swallow every drop of my seed I can give her. Stars this woman, then she does!

I howl as I spill into her mouth and like a hungry animal she swallows me, all I have to give. My muscles burn and my fists clench as my body eagerly greets the crest that is pulling me under. I growl her name and for a moment, I am lost to it all.

I feel everything, my body pulses in time and my skin tingles from the tips of my horns to my toes, and at that moment there is no greater pleasure, no force more powerful than this feeling barreling through my chest. 

Is it moments or seconds in which my senses return to me? I am not certain, but as I come back down, my hands shake and I see my mate, Zeala, the mother of my son, mine in all the stars. Lavishing the sweetest of kitten licks on my cock, and each one sends a jolt through me, sweeter than the last. I manage to choke out her name and her eyes meet mine. A devious look flashes in those violet pools and she soothes the hard ridges of my cock with her lips and tongue before stopping.

My physiology differs from hers in that I am not nearly as sensitive to pain and overstimulation as she is, but as it subsides, my cock is hard and I am ready to take her again. 

“Such a greedy thing you are, swallowing my cum. I think it is time to take you properly...” I growl. She dips her head back down and continues to swallow my length again, and I feel as though I can breathe fire. “Cyar’ika…!”

It is with some effort that I disentangle our bodies once and she hesitantly relinquishes my cock. I ache and throb from her talented mouth, but I want to bury myself inside her again. 

The firelight flickers as I put her on her back and take her mouth while I tease and stroke her body. She leans into my touch and she hungers for more so I oblige her. 

My fingers stroke through her folds, shuddering at the overwhelming slickness I find there. She moans into my mouth as my thumb finds that delicate little spot, that all-encompassing bundle of nerves, stoking a fire between her legs once more. I swallow her sounds, feeding off the raw desire, it spurs me on, an addiction unlike anything I’ve ever known before. One of her legs wraps around my waist and attempts to pull me forward but I shake my head at her and tell her:

“Stay still. I want to watch you tremble before me again.”

My mouth claims hers again and to my surprise she obeys me, her eyes close and she lies still while I continue to touch her. The softest touches, the ones that I know set her skin ablaze, they make her crave more and she whimpers as my lips enclose a nipple coaxing it to a hardened state. Her noises grow louder, little sighs and gasps, such lovely sounds. 

I can feel her body tighten with each stroke over her silky clit, her back arches pushing those perfect breasts closer to my mouth for me to taste at my leisure. She can barely say my name, but she does say it, a choked sob as another orgasm overtakes her. She is becoming more sensitive and stars help me. I love it. 

I can feel her trembling as the crest subsides and she’s trying so hard to take what I’m giving her but she’s losing the battle. I can feel her body beginning to shake, she will cry tears and pass out from the sensations before she asks me to stop. Stubborn woman. The way her blush colors her pale skin is radiant and I slow my assault on her body and withdraw my fingers bringing them to my mouth while she catches her breath. 

We exchange no further words, I know what she wants. I want it too. 

Our shared kiss is deeper now, a meeting and melding of souls, hungry for the presence of the other. 

She rises on her knees to join me and I turn her so that her back is nestled against my chest, her arm curls around my neck, keeping me close enough that she can kiss me, and I, her. My arm wraps around her hip and I drive up between her spread legs, she greets my cock with a deep groan of satisfaction. My face is buried in the crook of her neck breathing her in, I hear her breathing, I feel her heartbeat, and I feel her walls strangle me. She is almost part of me like this, it is too perfect, and neither of us will last long in this position.

My thrusts are slower and deeper, our pace more relaxed and leisurely. A luscious pur escapes her lips when I begin pushing her back to another orgasm, her legs tremble slightly at my teasing touch as my fingers ghost over her thighs. 

I am a selfish man at heart, I want what I want and nothing will stop me from attaining what it is that I desire, and right now I desire to see Zeala come over my cock. To feel her thrash against me, so lost in the throes of passion that I see into her very soul. 

Her soft whimpers send bolts of lightning down my spine and straight to my cock, she grips me like a vice and my senses are flooded with sensation after sensation, nothing is more powerful than what is happening between us. The Force itself pales in comparison to the energy that exists here in this room. 

She grips the back of my neck and her fingers brush against the base of my horns and it spurs me to increase my pace. My arms wrap around her now, needing her as close to me as possible, needing to feel every inch of her against me.

I fuck her hard now with wild abandon, she pleads with me to take her harder, to mark her with bruises that she will wear as proud badges, she wants the galaxy to know who she belongs to. 

Me. 

My body throbs in time with the very heartbeat of the universe, every nerve is alight, and every muscle aches from this exquisite dance. I cannot hold out much longer, her nails sink into my skin searing tiny crescents into my flesh and her tongue teases my lips in a kiss that burns hotter than any lightsaber.

She bites at my lower lip and growls at me, growls. She struggles to speak but tells me she is going to cum again, and she wants to feel me cum with her. She begs me to. How can I deny this creature when she pleads so sweetly? 

I cannot. 

I tell her with a single command, one I know she will obey “Come.” and she does! Her exquisite pleasure pushes me further and I roar as my release comes, my hot seed fills her body as we are joined in this. Her walls flutter around my cock, milking every drop. Dathomir itself seems to shake as our bodies tremble together, dissolving into pleasure. It is almost overwhelming once more, my thrusts finally slow and I feel more sated and at peace than I have in a while.

It is most certainly due to Zeala, coming in my hand has never given me the satisfaction I feel with her in my arms, clinging to me as though she cannot stand, though perhaps she cannot. Her heart beats wildly and her breathing slows as we remain tethered together for a few moments more, lost in the afterhaze of our passions. 

“Now, I am tired,” 

I grumble into her neck, as my cock slips from her body, finally feeling the sweet call of sleep. Although my muscles burn from our held position I would not trade this experience, nor any time Zeala and I have sought pleasure together. I will suffer through the stiff and sore muscles  I’m and I will deal with them when morning comes, each throb of pain will serve as a reminder of the exquisite pleasure we shared here. And every time my body cries out in discomfort I will hear only her cries and her moans. She rests against my body and it is clear that I have tired my mate properly, her labored breathing is evident enough of that and it brings an accomplished smile to my face. Once I am able to rise to my feet and I cradle Zeala in my arms as I do. She is her most desirable now, her most beautiful, completely fucked and satisfied basking in the afterglow.

It is time to return to our bed. Even though I am able to sleep anywhere, I yearn for our bed, to feel her sleeping bare against me. And while I feel no such concept as shame or embarrassment over my naked body, I desire the privacy our room affords us that I may enjoy her warmth again. 

The sheets are cool to the touch and as soon as my body rests comfortably with Zeala wrapped around me, my eyes feel heavy. Tomorrow Dathomir awaits us, but right now, I am safe with her in my arms and I feel I am finally able to sleep.

___

Wow, this was only 10k words which is like my shortest one shot to date... Guess there's hope for me after all. I am gradually working my way through my WIPs and I'm so happy to see this one done as I wrote it for a friend and I wasn't really much of a Darth Maul fangirl but I certainly am now! How did I do guys? Did you like Zeala? What do you think about a story from Mauls perspective? I personally really enjyoed writing it and maybe I'll do more with the male characters POV stories. Smutty one shot from Obi-wans POV? I would love to know what goes through that mans head while he's getting head... Sorry! Kinda spaced out for a minute! Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment and like and I will see yo uin the next one, bye

@decembermidnightso it begins...

He stood out among the other patrons but at a height of eight feet and covered in black fur there weren't many situations where he wouldn't stand out. Still, there was something more. You pressed yourself back into your seat and subtly crossed your legs. Black Krrsantan had spent the last few nights at the Sanctuary and you had been having a harder and harder time keeping your eyes off of him. You brought a glass of sweet beverage to your lips, eyes peeking over the brim so your staring wasn't too obvious. He was huge and if everything was proportional which you were sure it was, he had to be a giant down there. Thoughts of his body wormed their way into your brain. Rubbing against his soft fur until it was sticky with your release, grinding against his thick cock, feeling his fingers....

A slight movement caught your attention but as you refocused on your surroundings you immediately regretted it. Black Krrsantan-he was staring directly you. In a fit of embarrassment you slammed your drink against the table with a bit more force then intended and tore your gaze away from the beautiful wookie. You were desperately trying to keep up appearances but it was probably too late. Just a second of eye contact with him and you were already unraveling. You braved another glace and oh wow he was walking towards you. You shuffled slightly in your seat, out of both nervousness and the uncomfortable pressure building between your thighs. You didn't know where to look. Was Black Krrsantan really headed towards you, he could be going to get another drink? No, he was definitely coming your way. This was so awkward... but this also may be an opportunity. You gulped and looked up at Black Krrsantan. He was standing in front of you now, his height more dominanting with you sitting down.

"He-hello there" You stuttered out before shakily telling him your name. You were an awful conversation starter but his steadily growing smirk proved that he was at least slightly amused by you.

Thankfully, there weren't many more words needed.

Black Krrsantan left a pile of credits on the table as payment for your drinks then motioned with his head for you to follow him out the cantina. You immediately did so and it wasn't long before you two had found an empty ally.

With your back against a building wall, you quickly undressed and were mortified to find that you had already soaked through your underwear. Black Krrsantan let out something halfway between a growl and a purr at the sight and brought a hand up to squish against your thighs. Thick fingers splayed across your flesh and you found yourself entranced. You wanted those fingers inside of you and not a moment later he obliged. Your lips parted and an embarrassing moan slipped out as his finger pushed into you.

It was so big and so good. Oh- it felt so good.

You were shuddering and weakly gyrating your hips, too horny to be embarrassed that it had only taken him a few quick finger thrusts to get you to cum for him.

Oh fuck-so good, so good. This was so good.

You complained quietly as his finger exited your insides but you were quickly distracted by the growing length protruding from his fur.

Thick, weeping, and covered in black fuzz. His cock couldn't possibly be that big? Were you already delirious from pleasure? That wasn't going to fit inside of you-no, there was no way.

You didn't have time to finish that thought as Black Krrsantan was already rubbing the head of his cock against your opening. Before you knew it he was pushing inside of you, easily gliding into your tight walls with the help of your slick. Your conscious thoughts immediately fled your brain as you were overwhelmed by pleasure.

"Oh yes yes! Santo yes! Right there oooh right there mm yes.."

Your vision shook as he thrusted into you.

"Santoooos this is the best! So big , never felt so good."

Black Krrsantan was smug as he pounded into you, not only pleased with your praise but with the tight leaking hole throbbing around him. He angled himself a bit different with each thrust until he found the spot that made you the loudest then with seemingly unending stamina he rammed directly into that one spot.

"Santos!" You sobbed "What are you doing to me? This is too good, too good, too...."

Your head fell backwards and he quickly moved his hand to steady your neck. You were like a ragdoll, too limp from bliss to properly respond to his touches.

Black Krrsantan chucked to himself, "Cum with me."

At his words, you clenched slightly, barely giving Black Krrsantan enough time to pull out before you were both sent into a wirlwind of orgasmic ecstacy. His cock popped out and a fountain of hot cum shot onto your stomach.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about Luke, we all have things imperfect about us. And even if you don't like them I do and I want to help you like them as much as I do” you stated, giving him a soft and sweet kiss on the lips. Luke gave you his prosthetic hand that was covered by a black glove and signaled for you to take it off. And you did. You slowly pulled the glove off and then threw it across the room. You take his hand in yours, pulling it your lips to give it a quick kiss. “Can you feel that?” You asked sweetly, Luke nodded in response. “Can you feel this?” you asked, before putting two of his fingers in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them. His face turned bright red and you could sense him getting needy already. He quickly took his fingers out of your mouth to take off his other glove, he then put his arms up. “Do you want me to take off your shirt for you?” you asked, he quickly nodded in response giving you his best puppy dog eyes. You obliged, lifting the material off his body. 

“You are so good to me,” Luke mumbled sweetly, making grabby hand, wanting you to come closer to him. “Such a needy boy,” you began, playing with the loop to his belt. “but if I recall correctly you said you couldn't stand something that belongs to me,” you said, his belt was now off and you were playing with the waistband of his trousers. Luke whined at your words mumbling “sorry” “I won’t do it again” and “please I'll be good from now on”. You gave him another kiss on the lips. “I love you, all of you” you muttered softly, peppering kisses on his face working your way down to his neck and chest, causing him to let out soft giggles. You slowly get lower, kissing his V-line before taking his pants and briefs completely off. Luke takes the bottom of your shirt and looks at you waiting for your permission, you nod your head and Luke quickly takes yours his shirt off. Lukes eyes immediately go to your breast, taking both his hands and moving them everywhere. Softly stroking the outline of your body, kneading your breast, drawing circles around your nipples, and tugging at them every once in awhile. His fingers were warm and soft on your skin. His eyes grew darker eyeing you up and down, looking like a starving man. Luke went to unbutton your trousers and pulled them as far down as they could go. He looked up at you begging you to take them all the way off, so you did along with your black panties. 

“Y/N, Please...” he begged, not taking his eyes off you. You pushed him down, so laid on his back, his head resting against the headboard. “Can I finger you? Please? I just want to make you feel good,” Luke pouted, has could you say no to that? “Such good boy, asking for permission.” you began, “Go ahead,” you finally said, you moved so you were laying on his chest, spreading your legs for him. His hard cock between his stomach and your back. Luke took a finger from his right hand and circled your clit slowly applying a good amount of pressure causing you to let out a moaning throw your head back against his shoulder. Luke's finger moved further down at your entrance teasing the wet hole. “Baby Please... need to feel your fingers,” Luke instantly turned red at your words, you needed him all of him. And it made him feel proud. Proud to be yours. Proud for you to be his. Luke entered his index finger pushing in and out, he soon added a second finger this time he curled them, hitting your G-Spot perfectly causing you to moan and bite his neck. “Doing so well,” you muttered through your moan “But I need more,” you removed his finger from you, putting it up to his mouth. “Do you want a taste?” you asked him sweetly, Luke put his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweetness. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Jeff yelled from down the corridor. Jogging to join you, he began walking beside you. “Are you going to the party tonight?”

“I don’t know...” You hesitated. “I was going to see Kylo.”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “You’re always with him.”

You shrugged in response.

Jeff let out a huff. “Pleaseee.”

“I’ll think about it. How does that sound?”

“Fine.” He replied. 

Stopping outside your door, you awkwardly faced Jeff.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Meanwhile on the Bridge.*

“You’re distracted.” Hux commented.

“I am not.” Kylo responded.

“It’s that girl.” Hux continued. “Y/N.”

“Leave her out of this.” Kylo ordered.

“Why?” He tauned. 

The sound of Kylo snarling filled the air, as he used the force to throw Hux against the wall before he threw him towards the door, all the while barely moving a muscle.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kylo came to your quarters the minute he could. Opening your door, he walked in not bothering to knock. 

Squealing you weren’t expecting him to be in your chambers yet. You were lounging around wearing a pair of his sweatpants without a shirt on leaving you in your sports bra. Quickly you began searching for something to cover your upper half with. 

“Kylo!” You exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“What?” He asked confused. “I’m always here?”

“Yeah, but never at this time!”

He scoffed. “What? Do you have someone over?” A hint of sorrow could be heard in his voice.

“No.” You quickly answered. “Erm. N..No. I just wasn’t expecting you.”

He nodded, taking his cape off followed by his boots. He walked over to your dresser, opening his designated drawer pulling out some clothes before making his way over towards the bathroom.

Once you heard the click of the door shutting, you let out a sigh. It was normal for Kylo to be in your chambers. He was over so often you decided to make a drawer for him, to keep some clothes that he could change into after he was done being the supreme leader. At first, he was against the idea, insisting he wasn’t over enough to have a special place to keep his things.

Shortly after you spoke of the idea, he supported it. Over the past few years that you’ve known him, his belongings slowly started trickling into your chambers. Sometimes you thought he had more of  his belongings at your chambers than in his chambers.

Spotting a green and blue flannel on the ground, you quickly threw it on buttoning it rapidly. Kylo usually spent almost all his free-time with you or in your chambers. You couldn’t muster up the courage to ask him why, but it was sort of an unsaid feeling that you shared. He felt like home.

Curling your legs underneath your body, you sat on the couch, waiting for Kylo to emerge back out of the bathroom. Once he did, his expression was something you were unfamiliar with. Shaking it off, he sat on the otherside of you. 

Pressing play the movie began. You had started it before Kylo came in, but luckily you weren’t too far into it. During the movie, Kylo’s thigh was pressed firm against yours, as his arm kept brushing against yours. 

Before you knew what was happening, he grabbed a handful of hair, pulling your lips to his before they clashed together. The kiss was anything but gentle. It was filled with all the tension and feelings that neither one of you had the audacity to say aloud.

His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, enticing a groan from the back of your throat. His hand gripped your thigh, guiding you to straddle his lap. Once you were seated, you rolled your hips against his causing his to let out a growl. Your breath was mixed together along with your pants.

Pulling back slightly, he rested his forehead against yours. One of his hands began running up and down your back while the other rested firm on your hip.

“I...”

“Me too.” You breathed out eagerly.

He gazed at you with a shocked expression. There was a brief silence before an animalistic growl filled the air. His lips entrapped yours gently.

The sudden dampness between your legs, made move your hips against his. Your arousal became more and more evident as you began dragging yourself along his clothed crotch.Your motions caused him to groan throwing his head back against the couch.

You latched your lips along the column of his neck. A deep rumble could be felt, going straight to your core. Sucking his neck, you began marking him not caring about the consequences. Your tongue darted out soothing the fresh bruise you had just made. Traveling down to the junction of his throat and shoulder, you nipped at the flesh. A low mewl came from the man underneath you.

Rolling your hips, a large hand enclosed around the column of your neck, squeezing. A gasp fell from your lips, as you were tossed onto your bed. Gaping at the man above you, a violent shiver forced itself through your body.

Crawling on top of you, he grabbed your legs firmly wrapping them around his waist. Thrusting his clothed cock into your core, a cry of pleasure could be heard, as you arched your back throwing your head back onto the bed. His forearms holding his weight as he began nipping at your earlobe.

Your chest began rising and falling rapidly, as his hot breath caused goosebumps to erupt along your body. His deep voice pulled you out of your trance.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

You could only moan in response. Roughly grabbing your jaw, he jerked you to face him. His lips were on yours in seconds. His tongue roughly pushed past your lips as they traced along your teeth. Refusing entry, he pulled away before his large hand wrapped around your throat squeezing a little harsher than before. A surprised gasp fell from your lips. Gazing into his lust filled eyes, his voice went straight to your core, fueling the heat.

“Open your mouth.” He growled. 

Doing as he demanded, his tongue plunged into your mouth. The hand that was around your neck traveled down to your clothed breast giving it a harsh squeeze. Arching your back, you moaned in both pleasure and slight pain.

Suddenly, your phone began to ring. Groaning you got annoyed at whoever was calling and interrupted. Reaching over, Kylo grabbed your phone looking at the caller ID he growled. 

“Answer it.”

“What?” You questioned slightly panicked. “No.”

Leaning down he was nose to nose with you. “Answer. It.” He growled.

Gulping down a bundle of nerves, you gave in.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, Hey!”

“Oh. Hey Jeff.”

As soon as you said his name, Kylo ripped open your shirt causing buttons to scatter everywhere in your room. Undoing your bra with ease he tossed it over his shoulder. He roughly latched his lips onto your nipple while his other hand, pinched your other nipple.

His sudden actions causing you to cry out. 

“Y/N?” Jeff’s panicked voice came through the phone. “Are you okay?”

Panting you answered. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You were struggling for words. “I just...I just walked into the couch.” Your hand that wasn’t gripping the phone, clenched the sheets roughly.

Kylos teeth nipped at your nipple causing you to gasp. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You hummed in response.

“If you say so.” He commented. “Did you hear what monica did?”

“N...No I didn’t.”

Attempting to focus on your friend who began letting you know about the latest gossip, you hadn’t noticed Kylos’ hand travel down past the waist band of your pants. It wasn’t until he slipped past the waist band of your panties that you, gapped at him, silently begging him not to go further while you were on the phone.

The contact of his cool finger, almost made you cry out. Thinking fast, you clamped the hand that gripped the sheets down over your mouth in hopes of muffling any sound. His lips traveled up to your neck, alternating between nipping and sucking determined to leave his mark.

The feeling of a finger being plunged inside you, made you cry out as you arched your back again. Your breath began getting hitched in your throat. Without warning he began thrusting inside of you, before adding another finger continuing his motion. His hot breath fanning along the shell of your ear, as his tongue began tracing the grooves. 

“You belong to me.” He growled in your ear.

You nodded in response. 

“Fucking say it.”

“I’m yours.”

As a reward another finger was added to the mix. He began curling his fingers as he increased his speed. The familiar coil feeling rose in your stomach. As you began chasing your release, he removed his fingers placing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Hanging up on Jeff, you didn’t bother say goodbye. 

A strangled cry fell from your lips as the feeling of emptiness washed over you.

"Shh. Be quite in the meeting. Keeping going and I'll reward you after. "Kylo spoke softly.

Before you could protest the doors to the room had opened and several had entered and sat down at the large table. Lucky enough you couldn't been seen due to the metal panels on the side of the table. Still your face reddened at the thought of blowing your commander in front of others. You smiled as the meeting began.

"I believe us making this deal would be for the best commander," some officer said to commander ren.

You ran your tongue from his base slowly to his tip. Making sure to suck quietly at the pre cum. You licked kitten licks enjoying his sweet taste. After a moment you grew more confident and took him all in your mouth. Enjoying the twitch of his cock as you did so. You moaned which lucky enough was muffled by his cock stuffed deep into your throat.

You stopped for a minute making sure no one heard. Kylo's hand then reached under the table and pulled your hair. He had most definitely heard you.  Which the idea of Kylo punishing you only made your dripping wet cunt ache. You bobbed your head quickly moving your hand with you as the meeting continued    

You could feel your own wetness running down from your cunt. As you sucked and licked your commander your own hand trailed down pushing your skirt up. Rubbing your clit as you bobbed faster. You wanted so badly to stuff your cunt with his cock.

"That will be all." Kylo said dismissing them all.

After the doors hissed shut kylo pushed his chair back popping him from your mouth. You gasped from the sudden lack of him.

"Did I said you could touch yourself?" Kylo asked as he pulled your arm forcing you back on to your feet.

"nn no commander." You answered.

He stepped towards you blocking you in between him and the table. He lifted you on to the table and swiftly stuffed your cunt with his gloved fingers.

"Who's cunt is this y/n?" He asked as he rammed and curled his fingers into you.

"Yours Kylo." You moaned closing your eyes enjoying the feeling of him.

"Your such a good whore aren't you? can't even suck my cock without touching MY cunt. can you?" His fingers filling you as he pumped them deeper.

You attempted to answer but the swell of cumming on his fingers was starting to become to much.

"You wanna cum for me like the whore you are don't you?" He asked as he sucked on your sweet spot on your neck.

"Yes.. yes commander please let me cum." You pleaded.

"No." He said. He pulled his fingers out of you. You gasped as your orgasm was ripped away from you.

"Kylo!." You yelled.

"Your my whore." He spoke. "MY needy greedy whore and I'm going to fuck you like one."

His lifted you off of the table and placed you down in front of the control panel that over looked the hanger. shoving your face against the glass. You couldn't help but moan as he held your neck in place forcing you to look at the workers below.

"I want everyone to know your mine." He said to you. He ripped your shirt to your uniform pulling the fabric exposing your breast. He pushed you harder against the glass.

"You like that they can see you don't you?" Kylo asked.

Before you could answer Kylo ran his finger through your wet slits.

"Look at you dripping onto my floor from how wet you are." He rubbed slow circles on your sensitive bud. "Do you want me to fuck you here? Let everyone watch as I slam my cock into you?"

"God yes! please commander." You begged.

"Please what?" He snarled as he leaned over the panel flipping a switch.

"Please fuck me in front of everyone Kylo. I want them to see me cum on your cock. Please commander fuck me." You begged louder.

Your voice echoed through the room and hanger. You gasped at the realization that he had turned on the coms. Your gasp however was quickly turned into a moan as he stuffed his hard cock into you.

"Fuck your so tight and wet." He hissed as be bottomed out into you.

He lifted your right leg and placed it high above the panel. Angled deeper into you. Holding onto your hip with one hand, he still held your neck forcing you to watch the workers below you. He slammed his hips up and the slowly pulled his cock further out until he slammed back into you.

Loudly you moaned, your cunt tighting around him as more workers stopped and looked up at the window towards you.

"You like your commander fucking you don't you." He asked.

"yes commander!" You moaned as he stretched you open.

"tell them. Let everyone hear how badly you love my cock. How much of a slut you are for me." He groaned.

You moaned for a second trying to catch your breath.

"I love it commander. I want to be stuffed by your big hard cock all day." you moaned loudly.

"I want you to fuck me and cum in me commander. Breed me like the whore I am." You panted.

"fuck." He whispered.

"Oh commander please let me cum." You begged as he plunged deep into you. The need to cum started to become to much. After being denied early you badly need to cum. You closed your eyes tight trying to wait for him to say you could.

"Look at them." He groaned. "Let them watch you cum on my cock like the whore you are."

You forced your eyes down as he rammed into you. Some workers stood still watching, a few acted like they didn't hear or see you. But one or two palmed themselves while looking up at you as you bounced against his cock. You breast and face pressed firmly against the glass.

"Cum for me. Show them who you belong to!" He yelled slamming against your cervix.

"YOU COMMANDER!" You yelled cumming on him.

You pussy milking him as you came.

"Fuck!" He yelled as he kept fucking you through your orgasm.

"Please cum in me commander. Please. Please commander ren cum in me." You panted over and over like a prayer.

"God damn!" He thrusted his hips. "I love fucking your cunt."

He grabbed your hips holding you against him as he spilled himself at last into you. He held you there as he gave you every last drop. Slowly he pulled out. You couldn't help but whimper as you already missed the feel of him.

Softly he turned you around pulling your uniform back into place sweetly. Once he was done he bent down to the panel.

"Back to work." He barked flipping the coms off.

You turned towards the window to see everyone hurry along as fast as they could.

"Are you alright y/n? "He spoke to you softly turning your head back towards him.

You smiled happily, "Yes commander I couldn't be better."

He kissed your lips gently, "If its to much you just have to say our safe word love."

"I know Kylo. It wasn't to much. I liked it." You giggled resting your head against his forehead.

"I could tell." He laughed.  

"come on my love. Lets go back to out rooms and freshen up." He took your hand into his and lead you back to your joined rooms.

You couldn't help but smile. You loved Kylo and you knew once you got to our rooms that you to were far from done.

“I’m right here,” you stated, Luke, shook his head quickly.

“In my dream, you weren't,” he whined, moving closer to you as if it was even possible. “are you okay?” you asked him, slowly massaging his scalp. Luke shook his head. “Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, Luke, shook his head again. A couple of seconds later you felt a tear drop onto your skin. This made you wake up immediately. “Luke are you crying?” you asked softly, Luke shakes his head in response. “Words baby,” you coo. You sit up causing Luke to get up with you. You sit facing each other crisscross. Another tear runs down his face. “please talk to me,” you whisper, Luke doesn't reply he just moves to straddle you. His legs wrapped around your back, and his arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you into a hug. You rub your hands up and down his back trying to calm him down. After a couple of minutes, you push Luke back lightly until his arms loosen around you and his face is next to yours. 

“I can't lose you,” Luke began, your hands were still moving up and down his back, “You can't leave me. Please don't leave me,” Luke sobbed, begging you “I’m not going anywhere, I promise you that. It will take hundreds of stormtroopers to take me away from you, and even then they probably couldn't get through the best Jedi in the galaxy. me,” you teased him, “Hey! you wouldn't even know half the stuff you know without me,” Luke retorted jokingly, giving you a small smile. “there he is,” you smiled, Luke gave small kisses all over your bare shoulders. 

Luke starts going up your neck, this time he leaves small love bites and sucks on your sweet spot causing you to let out a small moan. You lay down on your back, Luke still on top of you “You're the prettiest thing in the galaxy,” Luke says, continuing sucking dark marks on to your skin. You flip Luke over, “So I'm just a ‘thing’ to you?” you tease him, Luke's eyes go wide. “No that's not what I meant. I just mean out of all the thing things in this galaxy, the stars, the suns, the moons, the oceans, the mountains, the Skys, the people. You y/n l/n are the most beautiful out of all of them.” Luke whispered, you leaned down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. He grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. “You are the cutest boy in this whole galaxy,” you say, as you pull back to get air. Luke can feel himself blush, his hands go to grip your thigh.

 “Please make love to me,” Luke mumbled, his eyes were filled with reverence that made you feel like a queen. “Good boy, asking so nicely,” You whispered, gridding onto him, causing Luke to let out a soft moan. You move your hands behind your back unstrapping your bra and letting it fall down your arms, Luke took it in his hands, looking into your eyes. Without him saying a word you knew what he was asking and nodded. Luke threw your bra across the room. You move your hands down Luke's chest and removed his briefs, before returning to your spot in his lap. 

Luke flips the two of you around again, this time he's on top. He trails kisses down your breast until he reaches your panties. Luke pulls them down with his teeth, causing you both to laugh quietly. Luke began tracing your body with his fingertips. he had come to know your body well after all these years and you have come to know his as well. You move your hand down to stroke his hard cock, as Luke started tracing your clit. Your thumb slid along the head of his cock, spreading the precum along his cock. You take your hand off his cock, making him whimper. You flip the two of you over again, and finally, align yourself with him. “Are you ready?” you asked him, Luke nodded in response. 

“Baby, use your words,” you said “Please I need to be inside you. I want you so bad. I want to feel your pussy around me. Please,” he begged, you slide down on his cock and bounced up and down. Lukes hands immediately grab at the sheets, twisting the fabric between his fingers until his knuckles turned white. “You feel so good inside of me,” You moan, Luke moves his arms to wrap around your waist. You rock your hips against him causing Luke to buck his hips letting out a moan. “You're doing... so good, you make me.... feel so good. Always treating me so... well,” Luke says moaning, the build of pleasure is almost at its peak and you feel yourself tipping over that edge. You squeeze his cock with your wet pussy. “I n-need—" Luke starts, about to beg to cum. “Don’t ask, just come when you’re ready.”

Luke's moans get louder and louder and so do yours. The feeling finally rushes over you, the sensation of you clenching around him, causes him to cum inside you. You move back and forth slowly before getting off him. You get up to get a washcloth to clean the both of you up, and climb into bed with him. “I love you,” Luke says cuddling into your side. “I love you too,” you say wrapping your arm around him “are you okay?” you ask him

“Obi-Wan?” a familiar voice snapped him out of his thoughts. You were now facing him. He noticed another thing about you, he noticed the gold band he gave you on Naboo was around your ring finger still. This caused Obi-Wan to smile and look you in the eyes. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, so only you could hear it. He didn't need any unwanted attention coming from other Jedis in the hall of the temple. “and I am so sorry, I never meant to go this long without seeing you,” he whispered again. “There is no need to be sorry,” you said quietly, looking around, to find the hall empty and you wrapped your arms around his neck hugging him, he smiled rubbing your back gently but not in an awkward way, not even close. Obi-Wan pulled back to kiss you on your cheek, placing his hands on your face stroking your cheeks. He thought about all the times his mind drifted to you during the years and no matter how long it had been since he had seen you he never stopped thinking about you. He remembered the times when he felt you were in danger and instantly regretted not doing anything about it. Obi-Wan knew at this moment he would never let you two drift again. He had only been in your presence for a few minutes and he already felt better than he had in the past four years. Obi-Wan was in love with you and he had always been and he will always be. And no Jedi code would ever be able to stop that. Even though Obi-Wan respected the code and the council, the Jedi life could never compare to how he felt about you. And it took him this many years to figure it out.

---

“Are you going to tell her you love her?” Qui-Gon asked, causing Obi-wan’s eyes to go wide. “What do you mean, Master?” Obi-Wan questioned, playing dumb. Qui-Gon lightly smiled, while turning to face his Padawan. “Do you think I’m stupid, young Padawan?” Qui-Gon retorted “Of course not, Master” he responded quickly, he could feel his palms starting to sweat. ”Why don't you tell her?” Qui-Gon asked, trying his best to get Obi-Wan to finally talk about you. “I made a commitment to the Jedi Order, a commitment I cannot break. Attachment is forbidden,” Obi-Wan stated plainly, Qui-Gon gave him a sad smile. “Obi-Wan, it is up to you to make your own path, sometimes you need to do what your senses tell you to do,”

---

Obi-Wan was now in his bed, laying on his back staring at the ceiling. He had never been good at falling asleep. Most of his nights were spent staring at the ceiling. His late-night thoughts always seemed to drift to you even when he had no contact with you for years. Some nights he would only think about you for a few minutes, but most nights he would think about you for hours. And now here he was, so close to you, yet so far away. Just a few doors down you were sleeping. All he wanted to do was to walk to your room and hold you, but he knew he shouldn't. So he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep once again that night.

---

“You know sometimes I think you're going soft for me Obi,” you said with a smile, laying with your back against him on the field full of green grass and wildflowers everywhere. “I could say the same about you,” Obi-Wan responded with a smile, slightly blushing. You turned over, straddling him. He grabbed your hips pulling you closer, making you let out a small laugh. You scanned his face, his face glowed as the summer sun beamed down on the two of you.

Oh, how you could get lost in his eyes forever. It was as if the universe made Obi-wan Kenobi just for you. You placed your hands on the back of his neck. You could feel your heart beating as you slowly you started to lean in, and you gently placed your lips on his. His lips were soft, so soft. Though the kiss was a bit sloppy due to the inexperience, it was still caring and sweet. You both pulled away breathlessly only to find Qui-Gon standing in the corner.

---

Obi-Wan eyes instantly opened after recalling the memory. He missed how your lips felt on his, you had the lips of an angel, your lips were so soft and you tasted like the watermelon chapstick you always wore. He wondered if you would still taste the same after all these years, or maybe instead you'd taste like mint? maybe strawberry?

Oh, how he craved your lips at this very moment. He felt like an addict. Maker, he was so intoxicated by your presence. Just seeing you again made him realize he should have never been gone this long in the first place.

Before Obi-Wan could realize what he was doing his feet were placed on your doorstep, knocking gently. Enough to catch your attention if you were already up, but not enough if you were sleeping. After a few seconds, he could hear footsteps getting closer and closer to the door until it finally opened, revealing you in a silk dark blue robe that hugged every curve you had, and showed a bit of cleavage. Obi-Wan eyes trailed down to your body, but soon his eyes trailed back to your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have come,” Obi-Wan said, stepping back to go back to his room. “Obi,” you began, grabbing his forearm making him come back to you. “Please come in?” you asked, he gave you a small smile in response and followed you in.

“Shouldn't you be asleep?” you asked, sitting down on the small couch you had, Obi-Wan taking a seat next to you. “I could say the same to you,” he answered, you gave him a look. The Look. A look he had only seen on you a few times before.

---

“You plan on fighting in that?” Obi-wan questioned you, Obi-Wan could practically feel your muscles tensing as you gave him a disproving look. “You don't think that I can duel in a dress?” you asked him harshly, this was the second time he had commented on something about you today. It didn't take Obi-Wan’s Jedi senses to tell him he crossed a line. He had been being a bit of a smart ass all day and you being stressed didn't help the situation. “I’m sorr-” he started his apology, only to be cut off by you igniting your vibrant green lightsaber. “Lets duel,” you insisted, Obi-wan was shocked at your actions and couldn't bring himself to move an inch, “You don't think I can duel with a dress, I'm going to prove you wrong,” You said, stepping closer to him. Obi-Wan smirked at you, how could someone like you, even give him a second glance. Obi-Wan pulled out his lightsaber igniting its vibrant blue color.

“Alright princess, show me what you got,” the young Padawan teased, making the first move only for you to block it quickly. “I'm not a princess,” you retorted, you strike him, lightsabers clashing against each other, this happened again and again for several minutes. In a swift motion, you spin your wrist, twirling the blade and you send Obi-Wan’s lightsaber hurtling away from him, he was unable to react to your move-in time and now was disarmed. Obi-Wan fell his knees in front of you, putting his hands in the air. Surrendering. You slowly put away your lightsaber

“I win,” you stated, Obi-Wan put his hands out to you, signaling for you to come to him. You walk over to him with a sigh and he grabs onto you making you fall in his lap. “You never fail to impress me, l/n” Obi-Wan complemented you gave him a small smile, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up.

---

“I have trouble falling asleep these days,” Obi-wan stated, not wanting you to get to be irritated with him already. “I do too,” you responded, giving him a sincere smile. “I really am sorry, for everything,” he apologized for the second time that day, you turned to face him, getting a bit closer to him. “I’m just as responsible as you are, Obi”

“I will never go this long without seeing you again,” he began, grabbing the side of your face softly, “that's a promise,” he concluded, looking into your eyes.

“Just kiss me already,” you whispered, Obi-Wan smiled sweetly, leaning in to kiss you. Your lips molded together, you still tasted like watermelon. The kiss had felt exactly like he remembered it feeling loving, deep, and passionate. The kiss escalated quickly, before you knew it you were straddling his lap and his hands were placed on the back of your thighs, squeezing lightly. You began kissing his neck, giving him little love bites. Obi-wan pushed you back slightly, untying your robe pushing it off you. You were now left in only your black lacy panties.

Obi-Wan’s attention was now on your breast, kissing in-between them ever so gently. Obi-Wan grazed his teeth across your nipples, sucking gently causing you to let out a loud moan. Obi-Wan immediately put his hand over your mouth silencing you. “You have to be quiet, my sweet girl” he warned, you nodded showing your understanding. His hand began to travel down the curve of your back. He finally reached your panties he hesitated, looking at you for permission, you nodded letting him know it was okay to proceed. “I need to hear you say it,” he whispered, giving you a sweet but serious look, moving pieces of your hair behind your ear.

“I want this. I want you Master Kenobi” you practically begged him to give you what you want. Obi-wan was taken back from the comment. Not in a bad way. You had never called him Master in bed, or anywhere for the matter. You were never one for submitting in the bedroom, but he would be lying if he said your comment didn't turn him on. Obi-Wan lifted you up, carrying you to your bed. When he came to the bed, he dropped you gently, taking off his white shirt he wore to sleep in and his pants and underwear. Obi-Wan basically pounced on you, you could feel his erect cock in-between both of your stomachs. Taking his thumb he dragged down your panties until they reached your feet, he then took them completely off and threw them across the room.

His thumb slowly started circling your clit, he started at a slow pace and started to get faster and faster. You whimpered at his actions, throwing your head back against the mattress, he lowered his head between your legs. “Missed this, missed pleasing you and giving you so much pleasure,” the Jedi knight felt like he was drunk off the amount of ecstasy he had at the very moment. How he would love to live every day and night like this. He loved the thought of pleasing you and the little praises you'd give him. Sometimes he wondered if he existed just to please you.

He moved his head between your legs resting them on his shoulders, sliding his tongue up and down on your pussy at the perfect pace, he decided to stop at your clit this time and began to circle his tongue around it. This caused you to whine and buck your hips against him. “So good... feels so good...” you could barely make out words, your fingers found your way to his hair, desperate to hold on to something. You pulled on it slightly, causing Obi-Wan to let out a quiet moan. The only thing that had changed about the last time Obi-Wan had done this to you was that now he had a beard. A beard that was rubbing against your skin.

“You taste just as good as I remember darling,” Obi-Wan praised, dipping his finger in your wet cunt to get some of your juices to bring up to your lips. You took his fingers in your mouth, tasting your juices. “Don't you think you taste wonderful darling?” he asked, and you nodded in agreement. You grew needier the more Obi-Wan spoke, “Please fuck me, master?” you begged, giving him puppy dog eyes. “Patience, sweet girl” he replied, tracing your curves on your soft skin, moving up so his face was at your breast, seconds were feeling like hours. “Fuck patience,” you stated, rolling the two of you over, so you were on top. This action shouldn't have taken Obi-Wan by surprise he should have known eventually your dominant side would come out.

You pinned his hands together keeping them there with the force as you moved down so your face was next to his erect cock. Obi-Wan was average in length and above average in thickness, the tip of his cock was dripping with precum. You traced your fingers along the base of his cock a few times and finally put the tip in your mouth sucking gently. Obi-Wan let out a loud moan, you chocked him lightly through the force hoping he'd get the hint to be quiet and he did. You took the tip out of your mouth, and it gave it a quick lick. “Are you ready?” you asked him, letting go of your force grip on his hands. “Yes, Princess”

“I’m not a princess Obi-Wan,” you warned, lining up your entrance with his cock, finally sliding down slowly. He missed this, and his cock definitely did too. His hand could never compare to your warm, wet, and tight pussy.  Maker did he feel so good inside you. You bouncing up and down on his cock. While he got to watch your breast bounce up and down. You looked stunning to him like this.

However, Obi-Wan couldn't help himself and decided to roll the two of you over again, he started thrusting into you as fast as possible, making you trail your fingernails down his back, leaving red marks, not that he minded at all. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the entire room and yours and Obi wan’s moans. you started to feel the knot in your stomach tighten “I’m going to c-” You tried to get out through your quiet moans, and he began speeding up, if it was even possible, his tip hitting against the special spot. “Me t-” Obi-Wan began but got cut off by your walls tightening again his cock and finishing. The sensation caused him to do the same finishing inside of you. Once you and Obi-Wan finished riding your highs, he pulls out of you. Grabbing your face gently to plant a long and loving kiss on your lips. The kiss had a faint taste of you on it from both of you, but Obi-Wan loved it.

Obi-Wan got up from the bed, you gave him a confused look. He dragged you to the end of the bed by your ankles, until your legs were at the edge of the bed. He lifted you carrying you to the bathroom.

“Let’s take a bath love,” he insisted, only for you to roll your eyes playfully

“Oh, is my badass future wife too good for baths?” he asked, your eye went wide at his comment.

“You'd want to marry me? What about the coun-” you began but got cut off “We will figure it out love, I promise” he said, giving you a small smile. You handed him a small bottle.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking it