Our deactivated lightsabers lie scattered on the floor nearby, forgotten as we give up on sparring. In the midst of our slow, desire-soaked embrace, I stretch up on my toes kiss his neck and inhale deeply, nostrils flaring just a little to gather in more of his musky scent.

It's unfair, the potency of it. I would like to at least try to resist, to draw out the seduction and thereby drive up the anticipation, the delicious torture of Wanting that can sometimes make the Having pale in comparison. But the salty musk is irresistible; it demands my attention more compellingly than a whiff of water in the deserts of Jakku.

My mouth waters as my heart rate climbs by at least 20 bpm; giving in and jumping straight to the conclusion of our secret, Force-enabled tryst would be soooooo easy right now. The tip of my tongue slides out between my lips, eager to sample the skin, the sweat, that has so captivated my nose.

Ahhhhhhh… it is even more potent to taste.

My willpower is on the edge of breaking down and begging him to bed me Right Now, no longer caring about Wanting, needing only to Have.

He tastes so good...