Synchronised Manoeuvres

by Corellian Blue

(first published 2020)

Warnings: language, sexual content

The whisper-touch of skin-on-skin woke Han: Leia's fingertips gliding over the callouses that covered the width of his palm.

He lay on his back, one arm bent up at the elbow, his hand resting next to his shoulder. Eyes closed and drowsy, he didn't realise her gentle caress had broken his sleep. His hand twitched reflexively, barely aware of her touch. The sweep of her fingers expanded as she explored nicks and scratches in his skin, tracing lines and creases, slowly but surely drawing him awake.

He had been a light sleeper, watchful and wary, attuned to any sound out of the ordinary, the way a man who lived on the edge needed to be in order to survive. But that was before this long, slow flight to Bespin, before he'd started sleeping with Leia. Now, the whole Empire could turn up on the Falcon's ramp and knock down the hatch and he probably would sleep through it.

Awake but with eyes shut, Han surrendered his hand to hers, ceding his palm to her exploration, her touch, stretching his fingers as she slid hers up the length of his.

"I love your hands," Leia told him.

Her voice was husky with languor and satisfaction. A corner of his mouth curved up and his eyes flickered open, turned his head towards her. She was right next to him, on her side, her upper hand smoothing across his palm while the other propped her head up on the bunk's two pillows; somehow during their sleep, she had managed to claim his as well. He'd found her in a similar position a few hours ago. Well, he assumed it was a few hours ago. That was when they had agreed to go back to sleep as opposed to sleepily fumbling around in what probably would not have been an especially satisfying session of lovemaking.

Dim light from the cabin's glowpanels lit Leia in soft hues. This incredible woman—a playful smile gracing her beautiful face, long hair snaking down her back in a disheveled braid—stared back at him with dark, sultry eyes. There was a tightness in his chest as he returned her gaze, and he almost found it difficult to breathe. A dull throb thudded in the erection he nearly always had upon awakening, and now even more so he was sleeping with Leia.

Han loved her but had no idea what the hell he'd done to deserve her.

For nearly two years he had loved Leia, but still hadn't told her, hadn't wanted to scare her by declaring his love for her too early in this new stage of their relationship. They had been sleeping together for less than ninety hours; that was a guesstimate, as he had lost his wrist chrono and his innate time-sense, along with his heart, somewhere between the sheets of their bunk. He had also accidentally kicked in the panel of the chrono that was embedded into the bulkhead next to the bunkside niche during some spirited position they had been trying. The concept of time was lost to them both.

Han figured he shouldn't dump too much heavy shit on Leia while she was coming to grips with his insatiable physical need for her—at least, that was his excuse for not telling her that he loved her. Strangely enough, her sexual desire for him pretty much matched his for her, which was one of the reasons they were spending most of their time in bed.

Leia had been saying things to him that sounded like she felt the same towards him, that she loved him, so maybe it wouldn't completely overwhelm her if he just came out and told her.

A few hours ago, before he had fallen back asleep with his body wrapped around hers, he had whispered his love into her hair. Taking the coward's way out, he had said 'I love you' when she was most likely asleep. And if she hadn't been asleep…hopefully he had initiated the start-up sequence that would make her more receptive to the idea when he finally found the balls and told her to her face how he felt. Then he needed to come up with a plan that would allow him to remain with her and still save his sorry ass from Jabba's bounty hunters.

Han slowly rolled over onto his side to face her, mirroring her pose except for leaving his head against the mattress and allowing her hand to continue playing with his. The bedclothes were bunched down around his thighs, exposing his naked body to the regulated cooler air of the ship's night-cycle. As he slept hot, he normally ended up kicking off the coverlet in his sleep and just sleeping with a sheet over himself. Despite some bitching from Chewie, Han had increased the Falcon's ambient temperature three degrees Standard for Leia's benefit; she was slight and had trouble keeping warm. That meant that within a few hours of sleep, all coverings were too warm and restrictive for him.

No matter what the temperature of either the day or night cycle, he had a high libido—although he had unconsciously been celibate while he'd pursued Leia—which resulted in erections throughout his sleep and particularly upon waking. This was another benefit of sleeping with Leia: there was the distinct probability that she would help him relieve his ache.

"Hey," he began, his voice croaky. "It's you again. You sleep here often?"

Leia's eyes sparkled with humour. "Only when I know you'll be here." She turned her gaze back to their joined hands, measured her smaller fingers along the length of his. "I love your long fingers."

"You love two of my fingers," Han pointed out with a sly grin.

Her smile briefly turned bashful before settling back into the boldness he had uncovered in her. "Show me which ones."

The dull throb in his groin matched the pulse in his throat. He raised his hand slightly, pulled two fingers under his thumb and waggled his index and middle fingers at her.

"Mmm…" she hummed appreciatively, "yes, those two. The rest of the hand is pretty impressive too, but those two fingers..."

Leia raised his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to each fingertip, her eyes mischievous and watchful. A vibrant memory of watching her lick and suck his erection caused a shiver to shoot down his spine towards his groin. She obviously shared that memory with him because she placed his fingers into her mouth, circled her tongue around the tips and softly sucked on them, all the while maintaining his gaze. There was no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Her eyes tracked down the length of his body as she agonisingly pulled his fingers out of her mouth. She gestured with her chin, motioning towards his groin.

"I'm always fascinated by how you wake up like that."

'Fascinated'. The Princess of Alderaan was fascinated by his 'morning' erection. What parallel universe had he fallen into?

"Helps that I wake up sleeping next to you, Sweetheart. And that you've just sucked my fingers."

She placed his fingertips against her lips. "You want me to suck something else, Babe?"

He rumbled in his closed mouth to suppress the plaintive groan threatening to bubble up from his chest. Not only was the imagery she'd elicited painfully erotic, she'd taken to calling him by that diminutive when she was intent on seducing him and it always succeeded in ruining him. He'd earned the nickname 'Slick' at the Imperial Academy, but no woman had ever given him an intimate pseudonym in the bedroom until now.

Han knew if he took her up on her offer, he wouldn't last long. Better to start off with something they would both enjoy.

"Why don't I fascinate you some more?" he suggested.

Leia released his hand, dramatically tilted her head back and closed her eyes as if waiting for him to obey a royal command. "Go ahead. Indulge me."

Han's eyes widened with affection. "Indulge you?" It amused him the way she occasionally slipped back into the speech patterns of someone far above his social standing. "That what you callin' it now? And here I thought you wanted me to fuck you."

She raised an eyebrow and considered him with mock-impatience. "Get inside me and indulge me now, Flyboy."

Han was a man who needed to be told at least twice, but not by Leia. Not when she was demanding sex.

"Yes, ma'am."

He rolled over the top of her, forcing her onto her back, his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her shoulders. Leia ran her hands up his biceps, over the curve of his shoulders, clutched around his neck, pulling him closer and widening her legs so he could settle against her hips without placing too much of his weight on her. His lips moved over the top of hers, slow, tender, deepening the kiss with sweeps of his tongue into her mouth. Her response was equally relaxed, accepting his caress with unhurried familiarity.

He reached his hand down between them, gently slid a finger up through her moist flesh to determine if she was ready for him. She arched her hips up against his hand. She was warm and wet, and he almost shook his head in sheer wonder and gratitude.

"How long you been thinkin' about this?" His voice was thick in his throat as he moved back, resting on his knees to give himself more room to work.

She shifted her hips again, encouraging his fingers to continue their exploration, sighing when he hit a spot that required further attention.

"Not long." Another sigh, another bow of her lower back. "I've only been awake ten minutes or so. But I saw you looking so nice and hard I thought—"

"—that you'd wake me up and take advantage of me."

The cheeky smile she gave him made him harder. "Sorry."

He smiled back at her. "No, you're not."

She was trying her best not to giggle. "No. I'm not."

He spoke without thinking. "You're the chensiest woman I've ever known, Leia." Then hoped she'd take his remark as he'd intended: a compliment, not a comparison with other women he'd fucked.

Leia's eyes closed as she focused on what his hand was doing, but she didn't appear fazed, only confused by his use of the Corellian idiom. "Chensy?"

"Horny. Aroused."

"You make me like this, Han. You arouse me."

Well…fuck.

He had no idea how to respond to that. Even his ego didn't buy that he was solely responsible for her state of arousal. But he didn't want to diminish the credit she readily wanted to give him.

"You wanna get on top?" He knew she usually like to control the pace when she was highly stimulated.

Leia looked up at him, her smiling eyes spirited and loving.

"I'm feeling lazy. You can do all the work."

Now he did shake his head. "Believe me, Sweetheart, this ain't work."

He expected she wouldn't need internal lubrication so there was no need to hunt around for the tube of personal lubricant, but he placed two fingers—Leia's two favourite fingers—in his mouth to wet them with salvia. The distinctive, sweet taste of Leia's sex tingled on his tongue.

Fuck, I love his woman.

It was becoming a familiar, repetitive refrain for him, but it was indisputable and overwhelming. Made him wonder how he could ever have considered leaving her.

He eased his index finger inside her, grinning smugly as she groaned, followed it with the longer middle finger. Another groan, her head pushed back into the pillows as her pelvic muscles gripped his fingers.

She stretched and contracted around his fingers as he slipped them forward and back in a teasingly slow movement while his thumb strummed the swollen nub of her clitoris. She was as hot and moist inside as she was out, and he ached to slip more than just his fingers into her. But his love for her had ensured he remained a decidedly unselfish lover. He would be guided by her, her response to his actions, her moans and sighs of his name, and ultimately by her requests.

His free hand snaked up her stomach, firmly cupped a breast, scissored her erect nipple between his fingers. He was rewarded by another cock-aching groan from her.

"Haaannn..."

Leia's sighing moan of his name was an incredible turn-on for him that she employed with frequent abandon, knowing how much it affected him. He drove his fingers deeper, wider.

She gasped. "I need you inside me."

He couldn't deny her, or himself. Making love with Leia was more than a primal sexual urge for him. She made him feel adored, cared for. Loved.

He slid his fingers out, put a hand around his erection and drew the head through her folds, tantalising them both, mixing her wetness with his pre-cum. A nudge down and forward and they both groaned as he slipped inside her. She angled her hips up to deepen his reach. He stilled, allowed himself to flex and throb inside her, to revel in the sense of her hot, wet flesh wrapping around him as he gripped her thighs and settled them up against his.

His instinct was to thrust, plunge, sway his hips back and forth in a relentless push inside her—withdraw, push, withdraw.

Han decided to do something different this time, mix things up, not do his predictable "welding rhythm", as Leia had described it. Not three short, quick strokes, followed by two long and deep. He'd tried to see if he could just kneel there, surround himself in her bliss, before slowly easing in and out of her in what he aimed would be a slow, sensual tease; an easy, relaxed wake-up way of making love.

He hung there a moment, suspended, closed his eyes and stretched his head back, snug in her soft wetness. Leia stirred beneath him, adjusted her position on the bunk and against his thighs. And then she started deliberately contracting around him.

The blood spiralled from his brain towards his groan. Light-headed, he opened his eyes, hoping his sight would help him regain his balance. It felt as though he was being stroked in all directions at the same time. But the sight of her lying before him, nipples erect, eyes glazed and hooded, almost did him in.

Leia reached forward, grabbed his hands in hers, pushed her hips further against his. The pull of her hands anchored his groin to hers. Her thighs swung up around his, ankles pressing into his ass. She tilted her pelvis as she squeezed his erection with her muscles, causing their locked hips to grind and sway together. The effect was intense, ferocious and shockingly overwhelming.

"What are you doin' to me, Leia?" he muttered. Yet again, all his plans had been sucked out the airlock.

She gave him a devilish smirk, clenched, released, clenched, released. Locked together, it looked like they were hardly moving. But inside, she was mercilessly, relentlessly stroking him, moaning and sighing his name as her arousal increased.

He was completely captured by her hold on his erection. Ensnared, she massaged him as effectively as if she was using her hand. But it was more than that. She was stroking him, squeezing, kneading him into ecstasy.

Their height difference combined with his kneeling posture above her belied the fact that he had relinquished all control of his body to her, willingly offered himself to her. It was as if their positions were reversed: he lying before her, prostrate, submissive.

Han loved every second of it, every centimeter of what she was doing to him because he implicitly trusted her. He was completely out of control, surrendering to her demands of him.

He loved it because he loved her.

With his renowned determination, he hung on, hoping he could keep up with her, continue to please and satisfy her. All he had to do was stay hard. All...

Her moans increased in pitch, her hold on his erection tightened. He allowed himself to be carried along by the incredible sensations sparking up and down his spine, gushing from his groin, up through his stomach, chest, throat before smashing into what was left of his brain.

His extremities began tingling and he knew he was done for. The undeniable rush surged through him, rolling through him in waves of pleasure, demanding his release. He managed to call out her name, as if somehow that might hold off the inevitable.

"Leia…"

It only reminded him that he was making love with her. Han Solo: two-credit smuggler, the kid who grew up on the mean streets of Corellia, fucking the Princess of Alderaan. Making love with the woman he loved.

He couldn't stop any of it. He hoped to all hell she wouldn't be offended if he came first. Then again, this was totally her fault.

Buried within Leia, her hands clutching his, Han straightened, pitching back as his climax built. It was as if he was conducting a wingover in a one-Standard gravity atmosphere, pulling 10G in a snubfighter. A quarter loop in a vertical climb, speed falling off as altitude and G-force increased. A flat-turn at the apogee of the climb as he spasmed, coming as he went over the top, diving back down in a swoop and finishing with another quarter loop as he levelled out, his chin dropping to his chest.

Han remained on his knees as he released into her, crying out as the rapture swept through him, overtook him, dashing his senses around the confines of their cabin. He was distantly aware that Leia's grip on his hands and his cock had increased as she convulsed around him, her fingers clutching at his as she reached her own climax.

Gasping and trembling, he looked up and met her eyes. Her face was flushed, a blush coloured her face, down her neck and across the top of her chest. Her body quivered as she twitched around him.

His first thought was one of relief that she appeared to have climaxed, if not exactly with him, then moments before or after. That had never happened to him in the past. Never had he experienced a simultaneous orgasm with a sexual partner.

They grinned at each other in delight, almost awe. Yet he had enough sense to check with her before assuming she had been satisfied. He'd learnt the hard way—but not with Leia—it paid to not assume anything in bed.

"You...?"

Leia nodded, gulping as she recovered, breathlessly confirming, "Yes."

"That was..." He had no words to describe what had happened.

"Amazing," Leia finished for him.

"Fuckin' amazin'," he agreed.

He wondered what it was they had done that produced two such intense and simultaneous climaxes. They had both been highly aroused before they had started. It could have been the position they had used, the way her thighs had stopped him from thrusting. Perhaps it had been something deeper, emotional, or—and he loathed to think the word—spiritual that had generated what they had shared.

Lovesick sap that he knew he was, Han hoped it was simply because they loved each other.

"We are definitely doin' that again," he insisted.

The shimmer in Leia's eyes told him that she eagerly agreed with him.

He also felt invigorated, inspired, not a hint of the lethargy that he doggedly fought back as he tried to ignore the effects of the post-coital chemicals coursing through his system.

Still joined with her, Han lowered himself over the top of her, taking his weight on his knees again to ensure not to smother her. He framed her face with his hands, kissed her deeply, putting all his love into his mouth and tongue.

I love her. And I need to tell her.

Once again, he wasn't sure about the timing. Timing. It kept coming back to timing.

He hadn't wanted to tell her after they'd first made love. That would've sounded like a ruse to get her to sleep with him again.

Not after she'd given him the best blow job in his life. That would've been overly vulgar, even for him.

Not after the first simultaneous orgasm he'd experienced—ever—with her. That would've been exceedingly convenient.

But, as he liked to claim, inspiration was his specialty. He'd get through this. He'd work out when it was the best time to tell her.

Han asked, "You wanna 'fresher?"

They'd already shared a 'fresher a few times; sonics only, as there was a need to conserve the recycled water. They hadn't had sex in there before. He wasn't immediately up for full sex again, probably wouldn't be for at least the next 20 minutes. Okay…30 to 40 minutes. He was no longer in his twenties.

He had another idea.

"I'd love a 'fresher." Leia watched him with wide eyes. "But only if you come with me."

He smirked at her response, at the innuendo inherent in her tone and the way she looked at him.

"I'm definitely comin' with you, Sweetheart."

He kissed her again, slow and loving, gently mouthed her lips, her nose, across her eyelids, her cheeks, brushed along the delicate line of her jaw to her chin, and back to her lips again.

As much as he was enjoying lying on top of her, hips pressing into her, his erection had deflated, and it wouldn't be long before he slipped out of her, especially as she continued to contract along the length of him.

He wrapped his arms around her and, with a contented sigh, sat back, drawing up, forcing his groin away from hers but continuing to hold her in his embrace. Another kiss to her mouth before he took her hand.

"Come on," Han told her with a wink. "Let's get wet."