A/N: Here's a new one for all you fellow Pierce fans out there! Please leave a review and let me know what you think, I was so happy to see such an out-pouring of approval for the last one! As always, read and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except a gremlin...on occasion.
Warning: Citrus-y one-shot ahead, ye have been warned!
"Bloody tin can," he muttered, pacing down a tight corridor as the ship hummed quietly, "Small enough to drive a man feckin' insane."
And it was. Two days, he had spent, locked in this veritable cage, the other members of his crew either down on the surface of the planet below or stowed away in their own compartments, avoiding him.
As they should, he thought with a smirk. He had been on pins and needles ever since she had left. To be perfectly honest, it wasn't even the fact that she had left him behind, it was the bloody logic of it.
A competent medic does me more good on Hoth than a man who's comparable to a tank with loose cannons, she had said, Quinn standing behind her with a small smile.
Pierce let out a gruff growl as he stalked down the snaking corridor, a hydrospanner in hand as he made his way towards the engine room. Where was the challenge in conquering a planet for the Empire when you had someone constantly behind you tossing kolto packs? He shook his head with a snort. Then again, it could have simply been to get under his skin. He wouldn't have put it past her; she was a Sith Lord, a fact she seldom let any of them forget.
The metal door slid open with barely a hiss of air and he strode through, bowing his head so that it didn't scrap against the lip of the doorway.
It was her prerogative, he supposed, as he knelt on one knee in front of a large section of the hyperdrive. Sith were in a constant state of upheaval, the order of dominance asserted at every exchange. Rank hardly mattered, except as a type of decorum, a farce that was perhaps intended to cause confusion rather than clarity. Power was relative and assumptions were deadly; keep your eyes focused on the master and the apprentice was likely to kiss your guts with a lightsaber.
It was an environment he could appreciate, the results bred in darkness and blood reflected in the steely coldness of his commander. She was aloof in many respects, and yet he had seen first-hand how explosive the passion beneath the exterior could become.
Heat stirred low in his belly as his thoughts drifted through memories of their joined hunting. A glint would light in her eyes, her movements precise, yet fluid, always drawing his attention to the motion of curves that only served to add an edge to the allure of pursuit. Death seemed to hover around her on those missions, its wings caressing the slope of her shoulders, pulling his gaze to the smooth line of her neck as he kept watch of the rear.
She never let anyone else lead, entrusting her back in a manner that was either hubris or stupidity, as most would have seen it. Pierce knew better; it was simply good command. A captain that blatantly held his crew in contempt rarely lasted long in the Empire or the Republic. Lines had to be drawn, certainly, but power could not be attained by one individual acting alone. Anyone with half a krath hound's brain knew that. He couldn't say he was complaining, not when the view was that good, he thought with a light chuckle. Years of training and a natural blessing had given the Emperor's Wrath a figure worthy of both envy and worship.
Frankly, he had done his fair share of the latter on more than one occasion.
He could feel his manhood give a twitch of interest in the leather confines of his trousers as his mind's eye roved her form. His hands had stopped their work long before, the spanner spinning between his thumb and forefinger idly.
She was a sight, he'd give her that; the kind that kept a man up at night. The knowledge that her skin was as soft to the touch as it looked, that her lips tasted as heady as he had suspected, only served to make the evenings longer and his empty bunk colder.
His eyes hooded as he resumed tinkering, each crank of the spanner a flashpoint for a different memory. Her agility and strength of arm extended far beyond the battlefield, he could testify to that. The tightness in his trousers intensified as he recalled how the stain of blood only enhanced her features, sharpening them and making her smile seem predatory. The Force would flow around her like a cloak, rippling across her body like the hands of a lover, like his hands.
"Ah, fuck," he grumbled, bending his head as his work stopped and closing his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. Getting into this state wasn't going to make his interment here any better. Then again, he thought with a fiendish smile, it might just make her return that much more interesting.
The thought amused him and he lifted his hand once again, channeling his anger and arousal into a nearly frenzied pace of usefulness. The hours ticked by and he willingly lost track of them, hopeful that they would slip past unnoticed and bring his imprisonment in this glorified cell to an end.
It wasn't until a strange scent wafted past him that he even bothered to glance up from his self appointed task. His nostrils flared as he breathed it in, idly wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his bare hand, having discarded his gloves some time ago. He turned to look over his shoulder, noting the figure leaning in the doorway.
"Mi'lord," he greeted gruffly as she watched him, her mildly curious expression illuminated by the artificial lights of the engine room.
"Lieutenant," she replied, her arms crossed loosely over her stomach, drawing his gaze briefly along the curve of her breasts, the tension in his abdomen tightening, "I didn't realize your talents was included being a shipwright."
He guffawed, a crooked grin curving his lips as he looked at her with glittering eyes.
"You of all people should know that I'm damned well useless when trapped in a tin cage, Mi'lord," he tapped the hydrospanner against a pipe, metal clanking, "This was a diversion, a necessary hobby that I picked up in the Black Ops."
She tilted her head at him, her gaze narrowing.
"A dangerous one, if used improperly."
His grin widened, almost tasting the hint of menace crackling in the air. It made the blood surge in his veins, his heart beat thumping against his ribs.
"Only if you don't trust me, Mi'lord."
It was a joke and they both knew it. Her features relaxed in obvious amusement as she straightened, her gait strong. He found himself watching the muscles of her legs flex against the tight leather that encased them, traveling upwards to take in the gentle sway of her hips as she approached. She placed a hand at his shoulder, the feel of her fingers warm even through thickness of his armor. As she leaned over him, he caught her scent again and fought back the urge to simply lean his head back and nip at the revealed column of her throat.
She knocked her knuckle against the bolt, as if to test it, and he held himself still. The Emperor's Wrath glanced down, a small smile gracing her lips as she reached down and carefully picked up one of his large hands in her smaller one. She lifted it up, inspecting its contours closely and Pierce swallowed hard, his mouth drying at the speculative gleam in her eyes.
"You should be more careful in the future, Lieutenant. Your fingers are scrapped just here."
She brushed her thumb over the area she had indicated, her glance only serving to heighten the discomfort in his trousers. It worsened when she actually pressed her lips against the bruised digit, her tongue flicking out to lap briefly against his skin before drawing it between her lips.
When she suckled it, the hydrospanner hit the floor with a loud clang.
Reaching up with his free hand, he fisted it in her hair, pulling her down roughly and capturing her mouth with his. Her lips melded against his and he pushed his tongue past them, sweeping into the honeyed cavern of her mouth. With a tug, he turned, and deposited the sith warrior right into his lap. She adapted to the new position swiftly, her legs straddling his as her nails dug into his shoulders, then swept up to run lightly across his scalp. His own fingers were busily finding each clasp of her armor as she nipped at his lower lip with sharp teeth, the metallic taste of copper mingling with hers.
With a strength that belied her slight figure, her hands ran down the sides of his face as they kissed, towards his chest and pushed him back hard. Her mouth didn't leave his, her hands roving across his broad torso and he growled approvingly. Her hips ground against his and he stopped his own exploration to grip her hips tightly, his own hips surging upwards to meet hers. A static electricity flowed over his skin as the heated friction between them drove him to the brink of control and he pulled back from her mouth, letting his trail down the line of her neck with tongue-flicked kisses.
The zipper that held his uniform closed slid down seemingly of its own accord and he chuckled lowly, enjoying her show of Force use. He mimicked the gesture, tugging down the line that concealed her body from his gaze. Pierce felt the moan in her throat against his lips, dragging them down along the revealed slopes of her breasts. Her fingertips caressed against the back of his neck, then flowed down to slide the leather uniform from his shoulders and he shrugged the material away.
Without warning, his hands flew from her body and were held against the metal that he had been resting against. Her smile was feral and he found himself matching it with a toothy one of his own as her fingers drug themselves down to the bulge in his trousers.
"Mi'lord?" he questioned, his voice a deep rumble, and it pleased him to see her shiver at the sound of it.
She placed a finger against her lips before stroking him lightly through the leather, the bucking of his hips beyond his control.
"Have you not observed that I prefer thoroughness, Lieutenant?" she purred, working the trousers down his narrow hips, leaving him naked and painfully aroused by her words and actions.
His length throbbed in anticipation, willing to put aside his desire for dominance to simply see what she had in mind.
She brushed her fingertips along the top of his thigh, seeming to enjoy the reaction of the contraction of his muscles. Her clever fingers traced a path up across his hip, up to his powerfully built abdomen, caressing across the defined muscles she found there. His manhood twitched as she dragged the digits downward gently. She saw his eyelashes flutter slightly as her fingertips ghosted across his skin, his length hardening further at her touch.
Her fingers encircled the velvety flesh, stroking it with hardly a whisper of contact. Her smile turned into a grin as she watched it come to full attention at her ministrations, flicking her eyes upwards to meet his almost playfully. His chest rose and fell in deep, ragged breaths as she wreaked havoc across his body, heat and electricity sparking through him as he watched her with rapt attention. Still smirking a little, she lowered her head, her breasts straining against the remainder of the zipper that held them, taunting him. She let her lips graze against the tip, tracing down the length to the base, back up again. He made another deep, rumbling sound and she immediately withdrew, removing all contact with his body.
He grew quiet once more and she wetted her lips, pursing them to blow softly against his rapidly heating flesh, before her tongue slipped past her lips to flick against the head. She repeated the motion, letting the tip of her tongue slid down the length, mimicking the path of her lips. Pierce let out a growl, his hips thrusting up in the barest of motions and she pulled away, biting her lip in apparent amusement. When he stilled again, she resumed her torturous teasing, finally raising her head enough to swirl her wickedly clever tongue around the tip, pulling it into the heat of her mouth in a slow, languid motion.
Her eyes remained fixed on his face as she eased her lips around the wide length of him, taking him further and further, allowing her teeth to just scarcely scrape against the velvety hardness. Achingly unhurried, she slid up again, till just the very tip of him remained against her lips. Pierce strained against the Force that held him and she smirked again, releasing him. His fingers entangling in her hair as his eyes snapped closed with an animalistic groan. She resisted his firm demand against the back of her head and chuckled softly.
"Making demands of your Lord? Hardly a healthy practice, Lieutenant," she observed huskily, desire churning low in his belly.
"Never said I was a sane bastard, Mi'lord," he growled down at her and she chuckled, complying with his insistent hand, lowering her head to once again engulf him in her heated mouth.
Her head bobbed over him, refusing to quicken the pace despite his low voice causing a shiver to apparently chase down her spine. She must have wanted to push him further, because she suddenly sucked lightly on his length, obviously relishing the hiss of breath that escaped through clenched teeth at the action. She kept the pressure, sliding down, then back up at the same deliberate speed, her eyes glinting at the roughed, strained timbre of his speech as he encouraged her.
Finally, though, she relented, quickening her movements, feeling the pulsing of his body becoming harder and faster, until, with a barely audible growl of warning, he exploded past her lips and she swiftly swallowed, the motion increasing his enjoyment.
She sat back on her haunches, a smug grin curving her lips as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes locked on hers and before she could protest, she was flat on her back, her arms pinned above her head and a very naked, very confidant soldier looming over her, his knee pressing intimately between her legs.
"I think turn about is fair play," he asked in a dangerous tone, a gleam in his eye as she looked at him heatedly.
Releasing one arm, he held her down with his larger frame as his hand had somehow snaked down between them. Pierce made swift work of her remaining clothing, easily discarding them with his free hand as he pressed hot, searing kisses against her lips, her skin, anywhere he could reach. While she was distracted, his thumb quite suddenly began applying a light pressure to the bundle of nerves near her center as he slipped a single finger between her folds. He crooked it upwards as he inserted, then pulled back, creating a friction that had her squirming beneath him. His lips captured hers again, the thrust of his tongue matching that of his finger as her eyes fluttered shut. Without warning, his hand was removed and she moaned in protest, even as his mouth left hers to trace a heated trail down the slopes of her breasts, his tongue dancing against the soft skin of her stomach as he released her wrists.
He chuckled at her wriggling as she felt a warm of breath against her mound and his lips nibbling at the tender flesh of her inner thigh. Then his tongue plunged between the folds of her womanhood and she cried out. Her hips were moving of their own accord and he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her still as the other slipped its digits to torment her further. She was quickly approaching the precipice, her throaty moans egging him on, but just when she seemed on the very brink, he stopped. Instead, he began placing open-mouth kisses against the flesh of her torso, crawling up her body until his lips hovered over hers.
She met his kiss, tasting herself on his lips, the knowledge making them both groan heatedly. He broke away from her with a smirk.
"That was hardly, fair, Lieutenant."
"Wasn't meant to be," he muttered, sliding his once again hard length against her slick center.
She lifted her hips, but he withdrew a little away from her and she bit her lip in frustration, making him chuckle. Pierce bent his head again, his mouth blazing down her body to claim one coral bud, suckling and swirling his tongue around it, making her back arch.
"Say it," he ground out when he lifted his head as she panted beneath him, the ache at her core nearly intolerable.
"Pierce," she breathed huskily and he grunted in approval, entering her in one quick thrust.
She cried out again, her hands rising to clutch at his shoulders as his arms encircled her, pulling her body to him as he began to move. His pace was merciless in its speed and power. Pierce buried his face in the crook of her neck as she bit into the hard flesh of his shoulder, her inner muscles tightening around him as he pounded relentlessly into her, sweat glistening in a fine sheen over their bodies. Her first climax ripped through her like a tsunami, sweeping her higher and higher as she bucked against him.
As she tried to catch her breath, he finally slowed, his strokes remaining powerful, but steady. She turned her head, peppering his jaw with kisses until he met her lips with his. He lifted her then, her legs straddling over his lap as he kept moving inside her. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck as one of his hands slid up her spine to cup the back of her neck. He deepened the kiss, coaxing the heat of her desire to flare, to burn as hotly as his.
He murmured against her lips, words that neither of them paid any heed to.
He was prowling along the edge of a sword, holding out with the strength of barely a fingernail, relishing the feel of her still pulsing walls around him. Neither was willing to give first, but, despite the sensations clearly roiling through her, she curled her lips into a devilish smile. She rolled her hips in a way that made him growl and clamp his hands on her hips to keep them still. She refused to be dictated, however, and rolled them again, and again, faster and faster, finding a rhythm that complimented the movement of his hips, sending them both spiraling over the edge with a mutual cry.
He grunted as she contracted around him, spilling into her as she tightened, his name tumbling past her lips like a prayer as the second wave swept her away with him. Exhausted, they collapsed next to one another as he slipped out of her, though he wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked her back into his chest, his nose buried in her hair as he was too tired to move just yet. He heard her speak softly, her voice laced with humor.
"Perhaps I should leave you behind more often."
"Not a bloody chance," he muttered into the strands, enjoying the sensation of her nails lightly running along the flesh of his forearm.
Her laughter ignited his when she half-turned to look over her shoulder at him with smoky eyes.
"Who said you had a choice in the matter?"