My Soul to Take
I look over my shoulder to see that he is following me, a predator intent on the scent trail of his prey. His eyes, so boyish and blue when others surround us, now gleam with a light that makes me shiver. He senses my apprehension – and my anticipation. He appreciates both.
He will catch me and I will pay for my little rebellion. I welcome the debt.
Flashing an uncertain and wavering smile, I turn away again. The noise of his heedless passage through the woods reaches my ears. His boots break twigs and the sharp snap of them is getting closer. I can almost smell him on the wind, feel his warmth approaching. I am the prey, sensing my destiny approach.
Every sense is alive and tingling with expectation.
"Padmé…"
My name whispers on the winds, and I am not sure if he has spoken it aloud or if he has murmured only to my mind in the way that only he can do. It does not matter. I tremble at the sound. His desire resonates through that single word, his possession sings in it.
I am his and he knows it. He will make sure I know it too.
Laughing, I run ahead, certain that he will remain on my trail. He will not lose sight of me, for even now he only humors me, letting me roam at will. It increases our passion, this game of chase and pursuit…and ultimate victory.
I slip behind a tree, letting my skirts peek out to taunt him. They flash red, the color of passion. He answers the call, and I hear the snap of a limb pushed roughly out of the way. For just a moment, we both circle around the tree, almost shivering in our awareness of each other. I am exquisitely aware of the rough bark beneath my hands, and I know that soon I will caress the silk of his flesh instead.
Our eyes meet. Promises are made between us without a word being whispered.
I whirl away just before he reaches the tree and lift my skirts, breaking into a run. I want to hear the heavy fall of his footsteps as he pursues me; I want him to come after me. I am begging him to do so with every action, every glance.
"Anakin!" I cry out, knowing the breeze will carry it to him. I am calling to him, pleading with him to renew his dominion over me.
There is a roar of frustration and need from behind me, but I do not slow my pace. Anakin is my lover, my protector, my demon, my love. From him there is nothing – and everything – to fear.
Then there is the clearing, the place that has been my goal this whole time. I step into that sunlit patch and collapse to the fragrant grasses, throwing wide my arms and staring up at the sky. Soon a shadow falls across my face, and the warmth and the light are gone and I stare up into perfect blue.
"Anakin," I say again, and open up my arms in invitation. I smile at him. Make love to me, my eyes tell him.
He tumbles into my embrace, barely cushioning his fall against me. I savor the weight of him; it is reassuring and overwhelming. His lips find mine and I can no longer breathe. He always does this to me, steals my breath and reason. I give myself up to the insanity and sensation of it.
Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him closer still, as if I would make us one being, two hearts in one flesh. His hand trembles when he brushes back my hair, and I see the terrible longing in his face. He has dreamed of this moment as I have, and now in the reality of it, he finds himself lost in the maelstrom.
"I've missed you," he whispers and a hot tear falls on my face. It is too much, this final surrender and yet he could ask for nothing less.
I kiss that tear away, savoring the taste of it, of him. I offer up my lips…my soul. He takes them both with his kiss.
And then I am spinning, growing dizzy with laughter, rolled over so that I am straddling him, my skirts falling in a silken waterfall about our limbs. His hands are warm and loose at my waist, his fingers tracing idle patterns, belying the urgency of his need. We have before us this whole day, so we put aside our burning for a moment, reveling in the unaccustomed luxury of the hours that stretch before us.
Playfully, I push aside the folds of dark tunic that guard his flesh from my questing fingers, my yearning eyes. He groans and his fingers dig into my sides, unknowing and needy. His pulse races wildly, beating in time to the heart that calls out to me.
I press my lips to that madness, hear him cry out. He trembles beneath me, and suddenly the power is mine.
Leaning down, I whisper into his ear, I tell him of all the things I have longed to do to him, of every imaginary act we have indulged in while I dreamed. His arms tighten around me and I am sprawled on top of him, his long, lean frame serving as the perfect bed. "You're home," I whisper and we both know I do not mean a place.
He rolls again and I am cradled beneath his warmth, his wide shoulders blotting out the sun that shines above. I am glad for the shadows.
Anakin's eyes are heavy and hooded, blazing with a hunger I know he will appease. Then he is thrusting inside of me, hard and fast. He gives me no chance to catch my breath and my pleasure spirals out of me into the air, up to the very sun. Anakin's heat blazes within me and I am the sun.
The birds' song travels on the breeze, and their joy resonates with us in perfect harmony. Our voices rise up to join them, drifting on the winds, perhaps carried to other lovers who even now share their own ecstasy.
Nothing exists beyond this clearing, this moment, this embrace. We are perfectly content in our reunion. I am consumed by the fore, the urgency, the utter need that claws its way up from my core and finds its ease only in his embrace. I clutch him to me as I shatter, his shout rings in my ears.
And I am complete.
"Padmé," he says my name yet again, his lips trailing heat on my throat. "Padmé…Padmé…."
It is as if he cannot say my name enough, for every time it passes his lips he reaffirms his possession of me, my complete surrender to his will.
I can give no less.
"Anakin…" He is the fulcrum on which my destiny is balanced. He claims me and I am no longer just myself. I am his, and he is mine, and our lives are intertwined so closely that if one of us dies, so shall the other.
I am pitched into oblivion, tumbling gratefully into the darkness. The land of shadows belongs to us, sheltering our secret. Anakin is the darkness, and I am the light, and together we are perfectly poised on the edge of an abyss.
Just waiting…