A/N: I'm baaaaack and with smutty, adorkable cuteness to boot! These two lovebirds make me so happy and I absolutely LOVE exploring the beginnings of their intimacy. It's just so bloody cute! I hope you agree. I also have this head cannon (I guess you could say) that Anakin uses the Force to help him pleasure Padme fully, which, makes sense to me, because he can basically feel what she feels, and what she wants, and he acts accordingly - it makes him a better lover quicker than the average man, but he IS the Chosen One ;)

Enjoy! xx


Warm tendrils of sunlight spill over her face, and Padmé slowly opens her eyes, squinting up into the early morning sun. With a small yawn, she rolls over onto her back, wincing a little at the internal pain from the previous night, when she made love with Anakin for the first time. Still, she can't help but smile at the memory, regardless of the pain she feels, because it was one of the greatest nights of her life. Not perfect in any sense of the word, but it was a perfect moment for her, completely giving herself to the man that she loves, and him giving himself to her as well. She wouldn't have wanted it any other way, or with any other man.

Stretching her limbs with a sort of feline grace, she notices that she is alone in the bed. A pang of disappointment clutches at her heart at the realization of waking up alone, without the comfort of Anakin's body next to hers, until, when she looks towards the window, she sees him. Haloed by the morning light, he stands naked, facing the window, his back towards her, hands clasped together across the globes of his firm backside. Padmé watches him shamelessly, yet a little shyly, her eyes eagerly drinking in his long, lean form, the hard, muscular plane of his back and shoulders, his long, powerful legs spread apart as he stares out the window. He's so beautiful to her, a perfect specimen of manhood, and he's all hers. A part of her thrills at that fact. Anakin Skywalker is hers, and hers exclusively, and she loves it.

With a secretive smile, she props herself up on her elbow, letting the silken sheets fall down her body to rest in the dip of her waist, exposing her breasts to the air. The glorious sight of Anakin naked and bare before her, and the subtle glimpse of his cock as it hangs between his thighs, has aroused her to no end, and she decides she can't be without him a second longer.

"Ani," she calls to him softly, and he turns immediately at her voice. The way his cerulean eyes darken as he takes in her erotically displayed form draped across the bed makes her sex clench in anticipation, as surely as it arouses him. She adores the effect she has on him, mainly because it is the same effect he has on her. It's new and exciting, and she takes it in her stride. They only have a few precious more days together before he must return to the war, and Padmé is determined to make the most of them.

She beckons him with her finger, and he walks slowly towards her, a teasing half-smirk tugging at his full lips, stopping to stand beside the bed. She appreciates his strong chest, and she stretches out her hand to dance her fingertips along the hard planes of his abdomen, enjoying how smooth and firm he is to her inquisitive touch. With a sweet smile, he halts her wandering fingers with his own and brings them up to his lips, kissing them gently. His eyes never leave hers, so intense and blue and beautiful she finds it hard to breathe.

"Good morning, my love," he greets her in a soft, husky voice, before pressing a kiss to her palm.

Padmé smiles sleepily up at him, before taking a firm hold of his braid that hangs beside his ear and pulls him down fiercely, sealing her mouth to his. The sudden forcefulness takes him by surprise, for he makes a startled gasp into her mouth, but he quickly relaxes, moving his lips languidly against her own. Satisfied that he isn't going to pull away from her, Padmé releases his braid and lets her hands whisper gentle caresses down the muscles of his back, all the while deepening the kiss. Anakin's hands take hold of her face, his thumbs smoothing over her cheeks, and he delves into the deep recess of her mouth, massaging his tongue with hers wetly.

After several minutes, Padmé pulls away, her chest heaving from the exertion of the kiss, and beams up at him. "Morning, Ani." She takes in his loving expression, the way his eyes catch the light of the sun, making them twinkle like the water of the lake on a still, clear day.

"What are you thinking?" he asks her quietly, as he plays with her hair with tender affection.

Her eyes flicker closed at the touch, and she hums happily, before opening them once more. "You're so beautiful," she tells him and never was there a sentiment truer than that. At times, she wonders if he is even real at all. How can one man be so sweet and kind and brave and fierce all at once? She feels lucky to just be in his presence, to be the object of his affections, because she certainly doesn't deserve them.

Anakin chuckles and sits beside her, trailing his mechanical hand down her slender shoulders to rest on the curve of her hip. "It is you, who is the beautiful one, Padmé," he counters honestly. "You're so beautiful it hurts." As he says it, he bends to rest his forehead against hers, staring deep into her eyes. It's the greatest feeling in the world, to be gazed at like that, as though she is the only thing in the galaxy, the only object of Anakin's entire focus.

She smirks at him.

He's hopeless, completely and utterly infatuated with her to the point of it being ridiculous, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't love it. Didn't love how adored and beautiful and wonderful he makes her feel. "Oh dear," she teases. "I hope it doesn't hurt too much. I rather like the way you look at me, Master Jedi."

"Believe me, milady," he responds to her tease with his own trademark smirk that makes her insides quiver with need. "I definitely like to look...and touch."

Laughing, soft and giddy with affection, she stretches her neck a little to claim his lips once more, devouring his passion and lust and love that he gives to her so willingly. It's like nothing else in the galaxy, kissing Anakin like this. Sure, Padmé has shared several kisses with other men in her past, but it's never felt like this. It's never left her so breathless and aroused and needy like this. Like she was missing a piece of her soul and found it there, in the gentle caress of Anakin's mouth. She knows she could spend hours just doing this.

"I love you, Anakin," she whispers when he bends to suckle at her neck, marking her with his lips and teeth and tongue in the most sinfully delicious way. The hand that was resting on her hip has moved up to cup her breast tentatively, and the shyness and trepidation of the act makes her smile. Even after all they shared last night, he is still concerned with her feelings, with pleasing her. To encourage him, she arches her back off the bed just a little, pushing herself further into his waiting palm, and Anakin takes the hint. His fingers come up to toy with her nipple, tugging and pulling and pinching, causing bolts of arousal to shoot right down to her aching sex. She feels a wetness pool between her legs and lets out an aroused moan when Anakin takes her neglected nipple between his teeth and nips and then sucks.

"I love you more, Angel," he tells her, mouth still full of her breast, before moving to shift his weight over her prostrate body, holding himself up by his elbows so he can fully worship her with his mouth. It astounds her how much confidence he has grown overnight, how attentive his is, how much he remembers. He touches her with less hesitation and more with lust-filled certainty. It only serves to heighten her own arousal. She knows, given time, that her beloved Ani will be a fantastic lover. His devotion to her and consideration for her own needs and desires is proof enough of that already.

Her hands find their way into his short hair, gently massaging his scalp, as he feasts on her skin with desirable hunger. His attentions draw soft, breathy gasps and mewls from her lips, and Anakin seems to appreciate them, for she feels him smile against her as he peppers sweet kisses between the valley of her breasts and up, up her slender throat, up the base of her jaw, to once more drink from her mouth.

Padmé knows she could definitely get used to being woken up like this, with Anakin's hard muscular body against her own, his hands on her skin, his lips caressing her own.

It certainly is a good morning.

Anakin lets out a strained groan, muffled against her neck, as his erection grazes her hip, and Padmé pulls away. Glancing between them, she sees his now turgid member, erect and straining towards her. She eyes him curiously, glancing up at him briefly – he's biting his lip, and his eyes are wide, as though seeking approval – before returning her inquisitive gaze to his cock. Now that it is light, she can see him properly. It's certainly an impressive sight. A trickle of liquid arousal pools in her core as she remembers how he filled her, how he reached so deep inside her with his thrusts where no other man has ever been before. The memory makes her shudder with longing.

Her curious fingers reach out and touch him gently, running her fingers over the paper-thin skin of his shaft. At her touch, Anakin groans again, hips automatically flexing, seeking more of her. Padmé's eyes widen at his reaction, at how vulnerable he is to her soft touch, at the power she holds over him. It's like nothing she's ever had before, and it thrills her. Testing this new found power, she slowly drags her fingers down his length and then back up, watching the way his eyes flutter closed and his jaw slackens in sheer pleasure, hismouth rounding into an 'o,'hisbreath hitching in his chest.

It's when her fingers come up to circle around the purple, mushroomed head of his cock that Anakin stills her movements, metal fingers circling her wrist and pulling her hand gently away from her exploration. "Padmé…" he pleads huskily, voice dripping with lust. "I can't – when you do that…"

She smiles sadly up at him, a little disappointed she can't continue her ministrations. There's a part of her that wants to watch him come undone again, simply from her touch on him. His face was so beautiful when he lost control and gave her his pleasure, and she wants it again. Her sex tightens painfully at the mere thought.

"I just want to touch you, Ani," she whispers.

His eyes almost roll back into his head at her words, and he curses in Huttese under his breath, before taking her lips with his own, forcing them open roughly and plundering her hot, wet mouth with his eager tongue, making her melt under his aggressive kiss. "No," he mutters between kisses. "I want to touch you." He leans up on his elbows and caresses her face with his hands, his thumb catching on her bottom lip and making it drag.

"Last night," he continues awkwardly, his face flushing a little. "You were so… and I just – I want to make you feel good this time, my love. Like – like how you… how you made me feel." His confession is so honest and raw and nervous that her heart swells with love for him. He's so precious. How did she ever get so lucky as to call him hers?

"Ani…" she regards him fondly with moist eyes and strokes his jaw. He is not real. Anakin Skywalker is a god-send.

He pecks her lips lightly, shushing her and swallowing her words, as his hands slide up and down her sides, making goose-pimples break out over her skin. "Let me love you, Padmé," he begs, though he doesn't even need her permission. Not really. She gave herself fully over to him the night before – she is now his, completely, body and soul, and if he wants to shower her with his love, she won't stop him. Not in the slightest.

She gives a slight nod of her head, an endearing smile on her face, and Anakin eagerly resumes his intense kiss, his tongue mating with hers in such a delectable way that she simply closes her eyes and just feels, just lets herself be the object of Anakin's affection for a while. And, it's nice, it's really nice, until he drags his hand down across her hip, through the curls that cover her sex and circles her opening. She gasps in pain as he makes to enter her, because she's still so tender and sore from last night's activities.

He sits up immediately, a horrified expression on his face "Force, Padmé, my love, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" he rambles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. With a sigh, she rubs her hands along his forearms, flashing him a sweet smile.

"It's alright, Ani," she assures him. "I'm just a little sore after last night."

"Oh…" his face falls, and he hangs his head, suddenly ashamed, and Padmé instantly feels guilty at making him look so miserable. "I hurt you, didn't I? You didn't… it wasn't g-good for you, was it?" The way he asks it, so insecure and naïve, with him biting his lower lip, it tugs at her compassionate heart, the heart that he now owns completely and totally...forever.

"Ani…" she leans up on her elbows, bringing herself closer to him. "I love you. But you're… well…" she breaks off, her cheeks burning hotly in embarrassment, but she swallows and bravely continues. "You're quite… big… you know. It'll just take me some – ah… getting used to it." By the time she finishes that sentence, her entire face is bright red, she can feel it, and Anakin's face matches hers. Padmé can't help but giggle at the hilarity of it all, two inexperienced lovers blushing and fumbling and giggling as they sit naked on the bed.

Eventually, Anakin forgets his embarrassment and joins in on her laughter, resuming his position atop her and nuzzling into her nose. "So, I guess you don't want me to… uh… go inside you, then?" he asks, stumbling over the words adorably.

Padmé groans, a little mortified and throws her hand over her eyes, unable to look at him, a nervous laugh slipping past her lips at his blatant honesty. Though, truth be told, she feels more comfortable talking about this with Anakin than with any other person. She knows he's only asking out of consideration for her pain, which is so endearing and sweet to her, and yet, she can't help but feel how improper this conversation is. If her mother could see her, right now…

"Uh…no. Not…not yet."

Anakin grins and nods his head. "Right. Understood, milady."

Suddenly, his teeth sink into the flesh of her shoulder, and she gasps, slightly aroused and lets her hand fall from over her eyes as his tongue lashes out, quickly soothing the bite in gentle strokes. Apparently, this is how Anakin overcomes embarrassment, but Padmé isn't bothered in the slightest, because his love bite has caused her to become aroused once more, and she shudders in his arms, as he suckles her neck. He continues his sweet torture, his hands filling with her breasts, as he slashes her earlobe with his tongue.

"You really are an angel, my love," he whispers hoarsely in her ear, and she trembles with desire. "You taste divine." He licks the shell of her ear slowly, before he purrs, "I want to taste all of you." His erotic words make her whimper pathetically. She is undeniably aroused now, impossibly so. How does he do that? How can he go from being shy and innocent and naïve one moment, to being sensual and seductive and so erotic the next? It astounds her but in the most delightful way.

True to his word, he takes his time to move back down her body, caressing every inch of her skin with his lips. When he reaches the top of her breasts, he cups them in his hands and pushes them up, closer to his waiting mouth, and drags the flat of his tongue across her erect nipple. A pleasured cry tears from her lips as she arches instinctively, driving her breast further into his succulent mouth, and he sucks on her greedily, like a babe at his mother's breast.

Padmé glances down and watches as he releases her now swollen rosy nipple, and her dark eyes fill with lust at the sight of the thin trail of saliva that connects from his lips, then snaps off suddenly. Oh my. She feels herself becoming wetter and wetter, just from the way Anakin is grinning at her – it's so sinful and wrong and filthy and yet so right, and she bites her lip hard. The sensations he's stirring within her are enough to bring her over the edge – almost – and she's barely keeping it together.

With the same attentiveness, Anakin takes her neglected breast into his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around her nipple as he sucks hard on her flesh. All Padmé can do is close her eyes and pant. If this is how good Anakin felt last night, it's no wonder he finished so quickly. She doesn't know how much longer she can hold on, and he hasn't even gotten to her dripping sex. It's blissful torture, and she never wants it to end.

"Ani…" Padmé whines, her voice dripping with lust, her legs widening, begging him, showing him exactly where she wants him; him and his glorious mouth. He smirks against her breastbone, before moving lower, his lips sliding wetly down her flat stomach, leaving a path of saliva in his wake. When he reaches her navel, he dips his tongue inside, causing her to flinch from the unexpected pleasure that erupts within her until he's kissing along her hipbones, teeth grazing and nipping and making her squirm.

He places a series of gentle kisses along the top of her downy soft pubic hair, before he buries his nose there, right between her legs, and inhales deeply. "You smell… amazing…" he informs her, his voice airy and lofty and full of reverence, as he gently rubs small circles with his nose over her damp curls. Padmé is barely conscious of anything, except the feel of his hot breath wafting over her aching sex, and his hands smoothing up the insides of her thighs. "I want… I want to…" he breaks off and looks up at her, seeking her approval, his beautiful eyes almost black with lust. All she can do is nod her head, because if whatever he wants to do is as pleasurable as everything else he's been doing, she's not going to stop him. She just wants to feel.

His smile is practically wolfish as he shuffles lower, gets his face right in between her legs, and then drags the flat of his tongue up across her sex. She moans, hands flying immediately into his hair, pressing herself further into him. She should be embarrassed by what he's doing, because no one has ever done that to her before, and even thinking about it makes her flush crimson, but it feels too fucking good to tell him to stop.

"M-more…" she urges him, begs him, her voice sounding wanton and desperate to her ears but she's beyond caring. "Anijust - Ugh!"

He obliges her request, licking another long stroke with the broad, flattened plane of his tongue, tasting her arousal. She vaguely wonders what she tastes like, whether she repulses him, or disgusts him, and the thought makes her squirm uncomfortably as Anakin continues to lick at her, dipping his tongue inside her, and then up to her swollen clit. But, she has no time to worry about such things, because he's lapping at her sensitive little bundle of nerves, with the pointed tip of his tongue, flicking rapidly back and forth and then swirling in small wet circles over her bud, over and over, and it sends bolts of intense, white hot pleasure coursing through her, causing her to arch her head back, thrusting her chest up off the bed, a low, drawn out moan escaping from her lips.

Her nails dig into his back, hard enough to draw blood, but Anakin merely continues his slow torture as she undulates her hips into his willing mouth. "Anioh, Anakin...Yes, just like that...please, don't stop!" she praises him in blind pleasure. "Oh, there. Right there – keep doing… ugh!" Her ability to form coherent sentences leaves her, and so she continues to encourage him with little mewls and moans, directing him where she wants him, and he eats up the information with the same vigour with which he devours and eats her.

His exploration is thorough – there is no part of her he leaves untouched by his tongue, and he's so attentive, listening to what gives her the most pleasure and keeping her there, until she's about ready to explode, before he changes course.

It must be a Force thing, the way he understands what she needs without her having to say a word. He makes love to her with his mouth so decadently, suckling her ravenously like she is a piece of ripe shurra fruit, and when he gives a particularly long harsh suck on her clit, pulling her bud into his mouth and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, she falls over the edge with a silent scream, back arching, eyes rolling back into her head as she comes undone before him, her hips lifting completely off the bed, thighs constricting tightly around his head.

Waves of pure blinding ecstasy roll over her, her whole body tightening and clenching from the power of her orgasm, and she feels Anakin drinking deeply of her wet essence with an aroused moan, and she basks in it all for a few minutes, feeling her body grow limp and pliant and soft.

When she comes to, she lets out a deeply satisfied moan, feeling more relaxed and content than she's ever felt in her life, as though she is lying on a bed of clouds without a worry in the world. It's a high like no other, and Padmé never wants to leave this paradise. She's content to stay exactly where she is, exactly like this, with Anakin, for the rest of her life.

"Mmph," Anakin's muffled groan brings her back to reality, and she looks down, to see her thighs still tightly clamped around his head.

Giggling sheepishly, she immediately releases him, and he crawls up her body. There's this ridiculously smug grin on his face, which is slick and shining with her arousal, and the sight does something to her that she can't even explain. Seeing him, covered in her essence, makes her feel strangely powerful, like she's marked him, claimed him as her own. Anakin presses a quick kiss to her lips, and she can taste herself on his mouth, and it's the strangest, most erotic thing she's ever experienced – that is, until Anakin drags his tongue up across her lips, gathering her essence, before licking around his own mouth, swallowing, and smacking his lips together in replete satisfaction. "You...are...delicious," he whispers, and despite the powerful orgasm she just had, she feels her arousal spike once more. His spontaneity and intuition and blatant honesty is going to be the death of her. But what a way to go, she smiles to herself.

Unable to express how she feels in words, she does the only thing she can think of, and pulls him down to her mouth greedily, kissing him fervently, earnestly, with as much passion as she can muster because there's no other way she can thank him for what he just did, for the insane pleasure he just brought her. Her hands trail down his spine to his buttocks, and she fills her hands with the firm muscle, slowly kneading his flesh as he subsequently grinds his aching erection into the crease of her hip.

"I could… I could feel you," he mutters breathlessly, his words half swallowed by a pleasured groan. "You were so… I could feel what you were feeling – Force, Padmé. I love you, I love you, I love you."

She whines into his mouth and trails her fingers over his hip and down his navel to brush against the base of his cock, as it protrudes from a nest of dark blond curls. The gasp that falls from his lips is the most beautiful sound she's ever heard. "Ani… let me – let me take care of you," she offers softly, taking him firmly in her hand and guiding her palm along him. His hips jut forward immediately, thrusting himself into her small hand. The poor thing is so hard and hot and throbbing for her that she feels it's only fair to give him the release he so desperately needs. She can only imagine how it must feel to be so far aroused and yet unable to let go, and stars, does he deserve it.

It doesn't take long. He's so tightly wound that just a few firm tugs of his length has him gasping and groaning and shuddering above her. "Padmé," he begs, "If you don't – I'll… I'll – "

"Shhh," she encourages him sweetly, wrapping her other hand around his back and stroking his hair as he nuzzles into her neck. "It's alright, Ani. Let go."

She tugs on his shaft again before softly swirling her fingers around his quivering head, pinching him and then gently dipping her index finger into his opening and pressing down with firm pressure. Instantly, he explodes all over her belly, coating her skin in his thick warm seed, groaning as he twitches with the force of his climax and cries out her name, his hips continuing to thrust forward in uneven spurts as he rides out the remaining waves of his orgasm. It's a weird sensation, but not totally unpleasant, and Padmé feels herself fill with loving affection, as he collapses on top of her, sweaty, trembling, and spent, panting in her ear. She holds him to her chest, kissing his temple, whispering how much she loves him, as he recovers. They are both in desperate need of a shower, but neither one can move just yet. They're too exhausted.

Its several minutes before Anakin regains enough strength to roll off of Padmé and snuggles into her side, curling his arms and legs around her like a child. It's so endearing that all she can do is continue to stroke his hair, a blissful smile on her face. She's so full of love, so happy and content and doesn't want this moment to ever end.

All she wants is to be with Anakin like this, his body and hers becoming one until they are uncertain where he finishes and she begins. Padmé loves him with all her heart and soul, her entire spirit yearns only for him and him alone. Surely, such a powerful thing as love cannot be wrong? Despite the challenges they will surely face, with their relationship being forbidden by the Jedi Order that governs Anakin, Padmé knows that it's worth it. As her mother always told her, if it's real love, it will always find a way. What she feels, in her heart, that alarmingly strong connection… that's real love, and she will never give up on it. Never. For as long as she lives.

Anakin's hand slides over her hip and entwines with her own and he kisses her temple sweetly. "My Angel," he whispers reverently. "My wife-to-be."

She grins, euphoric, and turns her head to gaze into his loving, blue-eyed gaze. "My husband-to-be," she leans in and pecks his lips quickly. Despite her initial hesitation, she can't wait to marry Anakin. To properly bind her life to his. Being his wife excites her more than she can put into words.

Humming in satisfaction, he burrows his head into her hair, pulling her tighter into his arms. "I love you so much, Padmé. I can't wait to marry you!"

She gives a giddy laugh, her entire face lighting up with an enormous grin. "Me, either, Ani."

He props himself up on his elbow, smoothing her hair from her face and gazes at her tenderly. "I want to marry you, today," he announces suddenly. "I don't want to wait a minute longer."

Tears of joy prick her eyes at his proclamation, and, if possible, her smile widens even more. "Oh, Anakin," she sniffles through her tears. "I want that, too. I love you."

The grin that breaks out on his face is blinding in its beauty, so raw and uninhibited, and a bubble of bewildered laughter leaves him as he captures her lips in a searing kiss. When they pull away, Anakin glances down between their bodies at their sticky chests and chuckles. "Milady," he begins, raising his eyebrow at her. "I think we are in need of a shower before we get married."

Her eyes twinkle. "Indeed, we do, Master Jedi."

With a gallant gesture, he rises from the bed and sweeps her into his arms, carrying her into the fresher as she laughs and wraps her hands around his neck.