Flirty, Dirty and Nice
by NamedAftertheDog
(2021)
A week into the flight to Bespin, Han and Leia are in the sugar-rush stage of their relationship, making their way through a list of increasingly personal sexual questions, revealing their thoughts and feelings.
Relaxed. Content. Satiated. Blissed.
The sensations that had lulled her to sleep—blocking out the rumble of the Falcon's sublight engines and the hum of the environmental systems—cushioned Leia as she woke next to Han. Although the bunk cover was scrunched down near Han's ankles, a sheet draped loosely over their naked bodies shielded them from the flow of recycled air.
His arm was slung around her back, holding her alongside him. His other arm stretched across his stomach, allowing his hand to cup her hip. Her cheek lay below his shoulder, forearm resting against the far side of his chest, fingers flat against his collarbone as she had been playing with the raised point where the bone met his right shoulder just before she fell asleep. Her head rose and fell as he slowly inhaled and exhaled. Beneath her ear, the sound of his heart beat strong and true.
There was only him and her, and the wonderful feelings suffusing her senses. There was nowhere else Leia would rather be than in Han's arms, in his bunk, on a long flight to Bespin.
Her sleep had been light and short, probably no more than 20 minutes, and completely spontaneous. After nearly an hour of unhurried lovemaking in the middle of the ship's day-cycle, it had been the most natural thing in the galaxy to fall asleep holding each other once they had achieved their release.
In the week since Leia had been sleeping with Han, this was the first time she had fallen asleep immediately after sex. This was Han's third occasion—a least, it was the third occasion he'd fallen asleep with her. She knew how easy it was for a man's post-coital biochemistry to lull him off to sleep, but that hadn't stopped her poking fun at him. Han had taken her ribbing in wry, good humour, a side of him she was enjoying a lot more now.
It seemed that being naked with each other had cleared the channels of communication between them. They were open and honest, eager to disclose what they were thinking, no longer on the defensive, no longer cautious about being hurt or having their feelings diminished—fully revealing themselves psychologically and physically. The innate trust in each other developed over three years of missions and operations for the Alliance now extended into their emotional intimacy. They spoke to each other in words of play, gentleness and affection. Their bodies had also found a new way to communicate, using a shared language of glances and stares, touches and caresses, cuddles and embraces, and glorious sessions of lovemaking.
They made love so frequently that meal breaks and repair work on the Falcon were interludes to the time they spent in bed. Leia couldn't—didn't want to—argue with Han's suggestion, delivered with his gorgeous lopsided smile, that they make use of this weeks-long flight by getting to know each other better, and working out how best to give each other pleasure: "What else we gonna do, Sweetheart? Just name it—anything—and I'll do it for you."
Their hunger could not be satisfied; they could not get enough of each other. That was one thing to say for a two-year build-up of unrequited sexual tension. Insatiable was the word she used to describe it; in his own inimitable way, Han suggested they were simply horny.
Leia was not a complete novice when it came to sex. She and her first and only boyfriend, Kier, had as satisfying a physical relationship as two fumbling teens with no previous experience could have. Nothing had prepared Leia for what making love could be like with someone older, more knowledgeable; someone who knew what a woman liked, knew how to turn her on. Someone like Han.
There was a familiarity and playfulness in their lovemaking, as if they had been lovers for years. Leia eagerly took advantage of everything Han willingly gave to her, and explored and developed her own techniques. She had identified a distinct sexual energy within her body, one that ebbed and flowed depending on her mood. All she had to do was catch Han's eye, or lace her fingers though his, or think about what she wanted to do with him, and the current inside her would build, churning and pulsating into a whirlpool that rushed adrenaline and desire throughout her body.
For Leia, the intimacy they shared went beyond the mere physical act. When they made love, she felt linked to Han, as if a river of consciousness connected them. In the moment of her orgasm, there was no separation between them. Two became one.
This is love, Leia realised. I love Han.
"You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me."
Leia was certain Han knew exactly how she felt about him. He had unfailingly proven he could read her, was attuned to her emotions and thinking. When his awkward attempts at luring her had failed, he successfully pushed her buttons to rile her up, happy to irritate her to elicit any sort of response from her in preference to her indifference.
Then there were Han's words from the last day-cycle: "Gotta be illegal to feel like this. This good. This happy."
He obviously loved her, too. He was here, with her. The man who pretended he was an uncaring mercenary had stayed with the Alliance—with her, for her—for more than three years. He could have fled Hoth on the Falcon before the Empire had arrived, but instead had risked his life for her. Even though neither of them had said those three words, everything else they did and said, every way they acted and reacted, proclaimed that they were in love. They just needed to take that extra step and finally admit their love. Perhaps once they'd done that, it would be easier to stop playing games and make a commitment.
Being careful not to disturb Han, Leia rolled back slightly to ease the pressure off her lower arm. She tilted her head to appreciate his features she had readily confessed to loving—the angle of his jaw, the swell of his larynx, the cords of his neck—the physical aspects that had first attracted her to him. And now she loved the whole man, the whole Han. And he loved her.
Eyes closed, Han murmured, "Your old man's awake."
Leia dropped her smile against his armpit, amused he had willingly taken on the possessive, teasing nickname she had given him. Sleep rumpled, he wore the aroma from their lovemaking and his own distinctive masculine scent, a combination that stirred her desire.
"Are you sure?"
His eyes remained shut, dark lashes high on his cheek. "Positive. Wasn't game to fall asleep on you again." He shifted his hand from her hip to her forearm, fingers gently stroking her skin. "You got me scared. Who knows what you'll do to me."
"I like keeping you on your toes," she said.
He pressed his lips together. "Hmm. Don't think we've tried that position before. Remind me and we'll try it out next time."
Trust Han to circle their conversation back to sex. But she wasn't complaining. It was invariably what they spoke about in this sugar-rush stage of their relationship, slowly making their way through a list of increasingly personal sexual questions.
What do you usually wear in bed?
Han: Nothin'.
He sleeps hot and finds clothing too restrictive—that's the excuse he gives her.
Leia: A t-shirt and underwear.
But now, thanks to Han, she wears nothing, having quickly discovered the benefits of having a bed-mate who is warm and soft or hot and hard when she needs him.
Han: Always geared to be of service to you, Princess. Cocked, locked and ready to rock.
What physical feature about me attracts you the most?
Leia: Your jawline. Always has, always will.
She has already claimed possession of it, even telling him so; surprisingly, incredibly, he's slightly stunned.
Han: The freckle next to your nose.
He kisses the spot, before mouthing the side of her nose, brushing his cheek along hers. He discovers the mole near the small of her back, kisses that too. She quivers at the touch of his open mouth, the gentle flick of his tongue.
Han: Can I have two favourites?
Leia: You can have whatever you like, baby.
Han: Damn, you're good to me.
When did you first have sex?
Han: 'Bout 10 hours ago. I was as pure as the Hoth snow before you seduced me.
Despite his joke, Leia is shocked when he explains he lost his virginity around the age of fourteen and had been a late bloomer compared to other kids living on the mean streets of Corellia. He confides that he was lucky he hadn't been molested, that being one of the few positives about being indentured to a criminal syndicate led by a non-human crime boss.
Leia's response to the question is less complicated.
Leia: A few months short of my seventeenth birthday.
Han: Not that much older than me.
Leia doesn't dispute his assertion, even though she is painfully aware of the gulf in their experiences.
What was the age of the person you first had sex with?
Leia: The same age as me—sixteen.
Han: Dunno. Older, probably seventeen or eighteen—didn't stop to ask in case she changed her mind.
How many people have you slept with?
Han: Mmm…never kept count.
Leia: I assume that means there must be quite a few.
Han presses his lips together, shrugs.
Leia: For me, there's only been Kier.
Han: And me.
Leia: Of course, 'and you'.
Han: Just makin' sure you don't forget.
Leia: I'd never forget you.
How many one-night stands have you had?
Han: You really wanna talk about this?
She thinks she does, until he questions her question.
Leia: Yes.
He releases his breath, stares her straight in the eye.
Han: What we got, ain't nothin' like that. This ain't a one-night—
Leia: More like 54 nights?
Han: Still doesn't compare. This ain't casual. Whatever I did before was different. I was different. It was safer not to become involved with someone, cos they'd as shoot you in the back sooner as look at you. That was my life before you.
Leia: So, how many longer-term romantic relationships have you had?
He takes a moment to collect his thoughts.
Han: I'd say what we've got here is my second. 'Cept, it's probably closer to my first; cos in the other one I was just a love-sick kid who had no idea what he was doin'. And she didn't feel the same way about me.
That's when Leia realises how sincere and complex his feelings are towards her, and how he's obviously thought this through. After that revelation, there is no uncertainty about what is happening between them.
Does sex always have to be serious?
Han: Nothin' compares to really good, hot sex.
Leia: Agreed.
He smirks at her quick response.
Han: But if you think about it, sex is kinda ridiculous. I mean, take a minute to look at what the hell we're doin' here. Might feel great, but it's silly. I figure, if you can't laugh about it, somethin's wrong.
Leia: Kier was always exceedingly earnest about it—
Han: —this is my shocked face.
She gently elbows him in the ribs.
Leia: On the other hand, at times you are pretty ridiculous—
Han: —thanks—
Leia: —so I'm prepared to laugh at you and with you as the situation arises.
Han: Wanna see what else arises?
Leia: Amuse me, scoundrel.
What do you think about love bites?
Han: You can munch on me wherever, whenever you like, Sweetheart.
Leia: Um…I'm not sure. Aren't they a bit too obvious? I'll have to say 'maybe'.
Han: What don't I give you a sample to help you make up your mind. Can't go makin' a decision without all the facts.
His breath and mouth is hot against her neck. There is a combination of his tongue and lips, a gentle nibble with his teeth, then a deeper sucking of her skin, swirling of his tongue…
Leia: Oh. Ohh…ohhhhh…yes.
Leia smoothed her fingertips along Han's collarbone. "Just as long you remember that whatever position we try, ultimately I want the final result to be you inside me."
Chuckling, he pulled her tighter into his side, dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "Don't worry, we've got the same goal, so I ain't never forgettin' that."
"There will be an exam at a later date," she facetiously advised.
"I'm makin' notes all over your body to remind myself. Press here. Stroke that. Gentle kiss. A few teeth. Insert tongue. Slide in finger."
Grinning, she corrected, "Fingers, plural."
He readily agreed with her. "My mistake. Fingerssss. That's why I need you here to correct me. I'm useless without you."
Leia moved her arm down and slipped those same long, clever fingers through hers, settling the back of her hand into his larger palm. "Not completely useless. You're incredibly good at quite a few things." He made a soft sigh as she drew her thigh over his and pressed herself into firm muscle. "The Alliance should have employed you as a notetaker for committee meetings. I bet you would have given a secretarial droid a run for its money."
"Woulda, coulda, shoulda," he dismissively said. "Their loss. I only take notes for you now."
She snuggled further into him, enjoying the sensual sweep of her cheek across his chest hairs. He whispered something under his breath, then swallowed his reaction underneath another contented sigh and kiss to her forehead.
They rested together, caressing and shifting against one another before Han asked, "Favourite position?"
Despite his humorous tone, Leia seriously considered the question, thinking about the various stances and placement of body parts they'd tried over the past days. "Um…let me think."
"If it helps, I love 'em all," he matter-of-factly told her.
Although she knew the answer, she pondered, "Have we tried them all?"
"We've barely started."
"Well, you tell me when we've done them all and I'll provide you with a comparative analysis."
"Ooh," he cooed, "more dirty talk. I love it."
He enjoyed teasing her about the way she sometimes spoke in bed, as if she was briefing troops or participating in diplomatic negotiations. Wondering if it turned him on, Leia happily obliged whatever kink this was, deliberately using the idioms and expressions that were suited to high office. Han lapped them up.
"Cockpit," she succinctly said, recalling where they had made love the previous night, after they spent time playing dejarik with Chewie, at her instance.
"Cockpit's not a—" He petered out and his head moved as he considered her remark. When he spoke, she could hear the smile in his voice. "You like sittin' on my lap, facin' me."
"I love looking at your face as I press against you, with you inside me." She had especially loved the way he had stared back at her, his hazel eyes full of desire as she had rested her elbows on his shoulders and cradled his head between her forearms, dragging her fingers through his hair, sliding up the length of him, slowly lowering herself down, grinding against the taut plane of his lower abdomen, kneading and squeezing him as she tensed and relaxed her muscles. "Watching how you respond to the slightest movement of my body."
He swallowed, took a few seconds to steady himself. "That's now my favourite, too."
"I thought it would be." She slipped her fingers along his, pressed them towards her palm, then removed her hand. "Do you mind if I move to the other side of you? My arm is falling asleep."
Without waiting for his consent, she crawled halfway across his body, legs astride his hips, before he remarked, "Any excuse, huh?"
"Do I need an excuse to climb over you?" she asked, settling under his right arm, resting her head on his chest and leg over the top of his.
"Nope. Told you before, you can do anythin' you like to me."
"Except break your heart?" she teased, flexing her right arm to get the feeling back into it.
"You'd never do that," he softly said. "I trust you. Completely and utterly."
Her throat and stomach tightened, hoping she was worthy of the faith he placed in her. She reached for his hand and squeezed it again.
A few minutes of contented silence followed, fingers interlinked and sensually sliding up and down one another, palms cushioning together.
Leia asked, "Have you ever dreamed about me?"
"All the time," he replied. "Sometimes even when I'm asleep."
She suspected this was the case. Although she suspected something else, she had to ask, "And did you…?"
His response told her exactly what she wanted to hear, as well as inviting her to admit to her own secrets. "What d'you think?"
They'd only just had sex, and already the swirling ache within her core was kicking up a gear. Imagining Han pleasuring himself—in his bunk or in the 'fresher—as he thought about her, was agonisingly thrilling; she had done the same thing thinking about him.
"I think," she began, then modified her response, "I know, yes."
"You know right," he agreed. "You know me."
From the growl in his throat, she could hear he was as turned on as she was. She also loved the way he sounded gratified that she knew him so well.
"What about you?" he asked.
"You tell me," she purred.
"That's a dead giveaway, Sweetheart."
"So, you think I did? In my bed. At night. Thinking of you."
"Stop, before I faint," he dramatically protested. "All the blood's rushin' from my head."
She asked, "How old were you when started masturbating?"
Even with her head on his chest, she detect the smirk on his face as he told her, "I forgot that's what it's called."
"Sure, you did."
He quickly replied, "I was probably twelve or thirteen. I was a horny little bastard."
"I would suggest you still are," Leia huskily said. "But not so on the little side. Now, you are pleasantly fulfilling, in every sense."
He shifted the arm around her body so he could rest his hand on her waist. "I do my best with what I got."
Her skin tingled as his fingers stroked up the side of her ribs and back down to her hip. "I like what you've got. I notice these things."
The rumble of his voice was as stimulating as his hand. "I just knew you'd like to look. Maybe I'll let you watch me later."
"Will that be before or after you go up on your toes?"
"Why don't I do both at the same time? Gotta find a way to keep you entertained. Can't have me borin' you."
Yesterday, she had jokingly remarked that she'd let him know when he started to bore her, and followed her comment with two false and elaborate yawns.
"You can bore me and then fulfill me whenever you like, old man."
She felt him shake his head. "If I had known you were like this before we'd gotten involved, I'd've been—"
"Scared off?" she asked.
"Are you kiddin'? More turned on than I already was."
She pressed a kiss onto his chest, nuzzled her cheek against the spot. "That's good to hear." She shifted back onto his arm so she could look at his face and impishly asked, "I think that's good to hear. Is that good to hear?"
He opened his eyes and considered her. "If you like the idea of turnin' me on, it's good to hear."
"Then it's definitely good to hear," she said, leaning forward to give him a light peck on the mouth. "We can't have me being the only one who was sexually frustrated over the last year."
His smirk was crooked and knowing. "How long?"
She widened her eyes in mock-innocence. "One and a half years, maybe?"
"I thought we'd agreed it was closer to two. At least."
She demurely smiled at him, content to go along with whatever he wanted—within reason. "If that's what we agreed, then it was two."
"Coulda been closer to two and half," he suggested.
"No," she said. "Two and half years ago, I thought you were too old for me."
Somehow, he managed to shrug with his face. "You still coulda been sexually frustrated. That 'too old for me' crap was your mind comin' up with an excuse to ignore what your body was tryin' to tell you."
And there, in Han's plain and simple reasoning, he had explained exactly why she had thought the way she had about him. He understood her defence mechanisms as easily as he knew his own.
"I think you know me too well," she conceded.
Han's reply was sarcastic. "No? Really?"
Leia matched the colour and resonance of his voice. "Yes. Really." She kissed the square of his chin to soften her words, then settled back against his arm. She smiled at the goofy grin he gave her, then hiked her knee across his groin, deliberately and obviously jostling him to determine how aroused he was.
His eyes widened. "You in a rush? Got an appointment somewhere?"
"Just checking," she told him with a cheeky smile, slipping her thigh back between his legs again.
"Give it time. I'll make it worth your wait."
Although he was firming, he wasn't ready for her. "Sorry. I'm eager."
"Over-eager," he gently scolded, his eyes glimmering with amusement.
"I told you before: I know what I like, and I appreciate fine things."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
She ran her tongue around her lips. "I was hoping it would."
He shook his head, a motion she knew was not admonishment but wonder at his infatuation with her. "How did I get myself into this?"
"You're not complaining, are you?"
"Never," he promised. "Never again."
A warmth bubbled through her at his declaration that sounded an awful lot like commitment—long-term commitment.
"Sex outdoors," he suddenly said, returning to their Flirty Dirty Quiz without missing a step.
She gave him an indulgent frown. "Are you asking me if I'm interested in having sex outdoors, or if I've already done it outdoors?"
He waggled his eyebrows. "Both."
Beaming, she said, "Nearly."
"'Nearly' don't count. It's either yes, or no." His eyes shifted to one side as he considered another possibility. "Unless you did it halfway out a window or door, which will require a graphic description with plenty of sordid detail, plus diagrams or holo-evidence. I'll also allow a balcony. But not in a tent." His expressive face stilled as his eyes returned to her. "Don't tell me you and Luke did it in a tent."
With an exaggerated sigh, Leia shook her head. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not interested in Luke like that."
"Didn't stop you in the medcenter," he goaded.
Struggling not to laugh, she pointed a finger at him. "That was entirely your fault. You made me do that."
Han rolled his eyes. "That's right. Entirely my fault."
"Thank you for finally admitting to that. You were being a—"
"Nerf herder?" he supplied.
"I'd forgotten that's what I called you."
"Sure, you did," he said.
"You're right. I didn't forget. I was trying to come up with another description that wouldn't hurt your feelings, seeing as you have entrusted me with your heart."
He grinned at her. "So, I'm not a nerf herder?"
"Oh, you are most definitely a nerf herder. And a scoundrel," she asserted. She leaned forward—"And a nice man. A very nice man."—gently kissed his mouth again.
He returned the kiss, but her compliment failed to sway him. "You were tryin' to make me jealous."
She shrugged in concession; there was no point denying the obvious. "I was." And then she thought back to exactly what she had done. "Poor Luke."
"'Poor Luke'?" he gawped. "What about poor Han? That shoulda been my kiss!"
"It could have been, but it wasn't. You only have yourself to blame. Entirely. Your. Fault," she insisted, prodding the end of his nose with her fingertip to emphasise each word, smiling broadly at his put-upon expression.
"It's good to know some things never change around here."
She primly informed him, "I'll let you know when it's not your fault."
"Gee, thanks."
Anxious to keep Luke out of their conversation, especially while she was naked in bed with Han, Leia asked, "What about you? Have you done it outside?"
"'It'?" he guilelessly said, his mouth struggling not to break into a smile.
She rolled her eyes in a good impersonation of him. "Sex. S. E. X."
"Ohh. Sex."
Happy to play along, she stressed, "Remember? That's what we've been talking about."
He winked at her. "When you're involved with sex, I ain't never forgettin' that."
She lay her forearm arm against his chest, placed a hand around his bicep and gave it a little squeeze. "What was that you said about flattery?"
"Dunno. Completely forgotten."
"Old age catching up on you?"
He nodded. "Probably. You better get in while the goin's good. While I've still got my own teeth and my knees don't buckle underneath me."
"Before your warranty expires?"
"That happened years ago," he glibly told her. "You couldn't return me to the manufacturer, even if you wanted to."
"But I can still get replacement parts, correct? I wouldn't want to take on a project that requires extensive servicing and continual maintenance, and then find out things don't work properly because I need a Clone-Wars-era screw or bolt that is now obsolete."
His frown was only half-joking. "Ow, you can be nasty."
She spent a moment smoothing the pinched line between his brows. "Sorry. That was a bit mean."
"Yeah, it was."
"Even if it was accurate."
His smile was fond, if his words were not. "You realise, I can withhold my services, don't you?"
"Knowing you," she said, "I seriously doubt that."
"Ah, you called my bluff. Again."
A slight shift of her knee across his groin confirmed there was still some time to go before they could take this further.
"Take it easy, will ya," Han chuckled. "I'm workin' my way back as quick as I can."
Leia melodramatically sighed. "I guess we have to revert to the questionnaire."
"Guess so."
She settled her thigh over his and took his hand. "All right, I believe it was your turn to answer. Have you had sex outside?"
Pulling a face, he said, "Always thought it was too dangerous to do it outside. So, no."
Too dangerous? Once again, his experiences were vastly different from hers.
"And I didn't like the idea of being exposed from all angles."
She grinned at him. "In every sense of the word?"
"Yeah, somethin' like that," he said. "Plus, if I was naked, where would I put my blaster?"
She snickered. "I have this sudden image of you wearing nothing but your gun-rig. I must say, that is definitely an attractive image. And something I may have thought about before." Both as a dream, and as a wide-awake fantasy she had conjured up during some mind-numbingly boring meeting.
He cocked an eyebrow. "You wanna try that later, too? We could add it to the pile of other things you want me to do, or keep it separate."
Leia batted a hand at him in a jokey manner. "Now you're spoiling me."
Han smoothed his cheek against hers, tightened his grip on her waist. "It'd be my pleasure to spoil you."
He moved towards her ear and she slanted her head to one side, shivering against him as his hot breath whispered across her skin.
"Next question," he managed to mumble as his tongue traced the delicate contours of her ear.
She softly moaned, struggled to say, "What's…an out of the usual…place…y-you...you've had sex…that wasn't…wasn't…a bed."
He didn't miss a beat. "Me and Luke did it in the survival shelter the night I rescued him on Hoth."
Eyes boggling, Leia placed her hand on his shoulder and pushed herself away from him.
He gave her a witless half-smile. "What? After you gave me the cold shoulder in the South Passage, I was feeling lonely, upset and painfully aroused. Luke willingly obliged. Mind you, he was delirious at the time." His smile became devilish, and he prodded her nose with his finger. "Entirely. Your. Fault."
Shaking her head at him, she pleaded, "Can we please leave Luke out of this. It just doesn't feel right." Either thinking about Han and Luke having sex (even if that had never happened) or including Luke in any of her intimate thoughts about Han.
Perhaps sensing he may have been pushing her limits, Han shrugged and relented. "Sure, okay."
Desperate to rid any traces of Luke from their discussions, she pressed, "Where have you really done it that's out of the usual?"
Han winked at her, as if sharing a secret. "Definitely the cockpit."
That intrigued her. "How many times have you done it in the cockpit?"
"Including last night," his eyes moved to the side as he thought about it, then returned to hers, "once."
A spark of pure delight lit her up. She had finally found something she and Han had experienced together as a first. "You've never—?"
He shook his head. "Never. You know me: I'm a meat and fried tubers kinda guy. I like to keep things simple. And I never trusted anyone enough to bring them onto the Falcon and fuck around. Particularly not in the cockpit."
"Even though it's called the cockpit?"
His smirk was crooked, eyes crinkled with amusement. "I've been waitin' days for you to bring that up."
She gave him a small, contrite smile. "I'm that obvious?"
"Most times, yeah."
She really was an unencrypted datapad to him, as he was to her.
"What about you and out of the usual sex?" he asked.
Leia had already thought of her response before she had asked him the question, a revelation to show him she wasn't as innocent as he might have believed.
"In our apartments on Coruscant, Kier and I did it in my father's study." She waited for that idea to sink into his head, then added, "On my father's desk."
Astonishment and mischievous glee erupted on Han's face. "Leia Organa!"
"Father wasn't there," Leia weakly protested.
He gaped, his mouth wide and smiling. "Princess Leia Organa!"
"Father wasn't even on-planet," she persisted, loving how much she appeared to have astounded Han.
He shook his head at her and tsked. "Princess-Senator Leia Organa."
She pressed her lips together, dipped her eyes. "I wasn't a senator at the time."
"Princess-nearly-a-senator-but-not-quite Leia Organa," he laughed, embracing her in a hug of solidarity.
Despite enjoying his reaction, a modicum of embarrassment crept under her skin. "Kier and me got carried away, all right?"
Han squeezed her again and growled in her ear, "I love it! Just when I think I've figured you out, you surprise me."
Exactly what she had aimed to do.
"We are definitely gonna try it out on a desk," he continued. "We'll perfect it here, so by the time you get assigned a new office, we'll know exactly what to do."
And that sounded a lot like he intended staying—with the Alliance, and with her.
Han reached down and hiked her leg over his hips, palm splayed, fingers stretching across the back of her thigh and bottom.
"How's that?" he smugly asked.
Her confession had worked wonders on him. He was warm, silky smooth and hard.
With her hands flat on his chest, Leia tilted back to look him in the face. "Show-off."
"Must be a record for recovery," he insisted. "See how things come along faster if you give me the right motivation."
No matter how much she loved him, Han would always be the smart-ass she had first met on the Death Star. But she couldn't be annoyed, not when he was offering her exactly what she wanted. "So, it's my responsibility, is it?"
He almost looked sincere as he said, "I'm only doin' this for you, Sweetheart."
She gave him a wry look. "Of course, you are."
He felt wonderfully male and full of potential, and yet she needed more than just a physical promise from him. "Tell me what it feels like when we make love?"
He was quick to respond. "Fantastic. No, lemme change that." He put on his best, shit-eating grin. "Fuckin' fantastic."
Her insufferable smart-ass.
The humour suddenly evaporated from his face. "Wait a minute. I've been doin' somethin' wrong." She smiled at him, silent and mysterious. "I have, haven't I? I've done somethin' you don't like. But you'd tell me if I had, right? Is this your way of tellin' me I've fucked up?"
Insufferable. Smart-ass. But also heart-achingly sweet and sensitive to her needs. A very nice man.
She put him out of his misery. "No, you've done nothing wrong. I just...I want to share with you what it feels like to make love. To make sure we're in agreement."
He grimaced, unconvinced, uncomfortable and wary. "Okaaay."
Deciding the best way to soothe him was to jump straight to point, Leia straddled his hips, knees on either side, and dipped her body down, allowing the rigidity of his sex to slot along the sensitive folds of hers. His hands immediately settled on the slope of her thighs, anchoring himself to her. She closed her eyes and sighed, savouring the deep ache that reverberated throughout her body.
So good…No man had ever had this effect on her. She had been physically drawn to him for a years; attracted to him at a basic, almost primal level that she found irresistible, intoxicated by his masculinity, and now bewitched by the knowledge of what he could do to her, what he could make her feel.
Leia adjusted her position, slid herself along the length of his erection until her clit nudged the head, and sighed again.
Han responded with a soft groan and a muttered, "Fuck."
Smiling at his characteristic reaction, she returned his open gaze, collected his hands in hers and placed his palms against her stomach. Her nerves tingled, as if a static shock passed between them.
"I know I want to make love to you," she explained, "when I feel a fluttering emptiness in my stomach. It's like I have an insatiable hunger for you that moves up into my ribs and throat."
With her eyes fixed on his, she drew his hands up her torso to her breasts. He cupped them without further direction, his knowing hands warm and gentle, fingers slipping around her erect nipples in a tender, familiar hold that bounced desire down to her clit and echoed back. She briefly closed her eyes again.
So damn good…
"In that moment when I want you and I know you want me," she said, "I have no fear or anxiety, no self-consciousness, no insecurities. I implicitly trust you."
A small smile quirked his mouth to one side, but he said nothing, clearly accepting her need to tell him this without interruption. A week on and it still amazed her that she had finally found a way to shut him up; it had only taken three years.
"You're never awkward, never nervous, just here with me and for me. For as long as we want."
She rocked herself on her knees, angled her hips down and ground herself firmly against him. Fuck, he felt divine. She couldn't wait to feel him inside her.
"It's as if we melt into each other. Our hands, our mouths, our bodies."
She clasped one of his hands to inspire him to increase the pressure on her breast.
"There's a sense of urgency, but not a rush. I'm willing to follow you, or lead you, or do both. Nothing feels forced or rehearsed. You instinctively know what to do to me, where to touch me, how hard or soft, how tender, and for how long."
Taking his other hand, Leia placed his middle finger in her mouth, lightly sucked it. Han struggled to maintain her gaze; one eye then the other rolled back under their lids, before another muttered curse drew his focus back to her. She smiled as his cock twitched between her legs, withdrew his finger from her mouth and kissed the tip of it.
"When you're inside me, there's a push-pull between our bodies, our energies. It's as if you drive your desire into me, I take it up, combine it with mine, and send it back to you, doubling the hit, before you send it back to me again, and the cycle continues."
The words came to her intuitively, as she realised this was what happened when she made love with Han. At first she thought he might have laughed at her, but the look on his face said otherwise: he appeared awestruck, mouth slightly open, eyes dark and unwavering.
Leia placed his hands at the bottom of her torso, above the apex of her thighs, enjoying the touch of his thumbs stroking circles into the curls there.
"My body is like a helical spring, with its centre located here. The coils have been tightening since I decided I need to make love with you, compressing, intensifying. The tensity builds within me, like a clenching feeling. And just when I think I can't take it anymore, the tension is suddenly released. It pulses through me, explodes, then cascades down into a wave of warmth, peace and relaxation."
She squeezed his fingers. "And it is the most incredible sensation I have ever experienced in my life. Which is why I want to keep doing it with you."
She swept a hand across his stomach, gave him an affectionate, encouraging smile and asked, "What do you enjoy about making love with me?"
"Everythin'," he said.
As endearing as she found his reply, there was a finality to it, implying that was all he was capable of saying. Leia easily read the uncertainty on his face. She was asking a lot from him—a man who had only recently opened up to her—to candidly talk about something as intimate as this, to describe his thoughts and feelings about making love. This was not like one of their flirty dirty questions they had been playing with. Han was most likely concerned about putting his foot in his mouth, of fucking up as he would've put it.
"Close your eyes," she told him.
He quickly complied, no doubt relieved that he no longer had to watch her watching him.
"What turns you on?" she coaxed.
Han took a steadying breath, as if he was about to leap into a fathomless pool of water. "Learnin' what you like," he said, "what turns you on, turns me on."
The touch of pride she detected in his voice warmed her heart. She was considering her next question when, unprompted, he launched into a further explanation.
"That can be the smallest thing. I mean, you sayin' you want me to fuck you is a huge turn on."
A knowing smirk came to her lips. Unsurprising.
"But it can also be somethin' like the curve of your hip, or your neck, or your ear."
Unexpected. Han Solo was much deeper and thoughtful than most people gave him credit; from time to time, that included herself.
"So, even somethin' small about you turns me on, makes me hard and hot."
She had not been expecting his use of the words hard and hot. A liquid warmth rushed up from her core, flooding her stomach and chest.
"Once that happens, I have a desperate need to get inside you as quickly as I can."
And there again was the man she knew and loved, the one who operated on instinct and called things the way he saw them.
"That's the point when all I can think about is you. Not where we are. The Falcon. The fucked hyperdrive. None of it. Just you."
Leia took his hands, and he held onto them like a lifeline as she rested both of them against the top of her thighs.
Han's head skewed to one side. "Y'know, it's strange, but that's when I feel like I really understand you. I know you're as horny as I am, and that you want me inside you much as I wanna be in there. And I can't believe it. It's too good to be true."
Damn, it was good—unbelievably good—but never too good to be true. Everything about making love with Han felt good and right. It was meant to be.
"When I'm inside you, I feel…longin'. And an overpowerin' sense of lust that makes me forget everythin' else. It's like I'm high on glitterstim, and I'm so blissed out the entire Empire could break down the cabin hatch and I wouldn't give a fuck cos I'm makin' love to you."
For someone who was initially reluctant to describe his feelings, he was certainly making up for it. Closing his eyes had obviously helped.
"Above all that, I also feel…I dunno." He shook his head. "Grateful's not the word I wanna use." He frowned, realisation dawning on his face as he opened his eyes and returned her gaze. "But maybe it is. I'm inside you, and I'm grateful."
Grateful…? His claim confused her. She did not want or expect his gratitude for making love.
"I'm grateful that you're sharin' your body with me, takin' me inside you, holding me. Not just cos you trust me enough to let me inside you, but cos you let me in here." Reaching up, he touched a finger to her temple, then moved it to a spot on her chest, over her heart. "And here."
Still not sure about his description of being grateful, Leia's insides melted at his new declaration. So much had changed between them in such a short time, and she had let him into her mind as much as her heart.
"I'm givin' you somethin' you want," Han said, "and that somethin' is me. The more you enjoy it—the more you enjoy me—the more turned on I get."
There was a distinct change to his face; to Leia, he had never looked more handsome, reflective and serious.
"And then you look at me as if I'm the only man in the galaxy, and all I wanna do is show you how much I love you."
Heart thudding in her chest, Leia returned his earnest stare. There was no need to clarify what he had said, what she had heard.
His voice was subdued as he told her, "I didn't…don't expect…" He visibly swallowed, larynx dipping in his throat, and tried again. "You don't need to say it back."
She didn't need to say it back, but neither did he need to pre-empt her response.
"Why not?" she asked.
He shrugged a shoulder. "Figure I should be thankful I got this far."
Leia curbed the scowl that threatened to dampen her mood. She couldn't believe he had got this entirely wrong.
She slid off his hips and onto her knees between his thighs, pulled on his hands. "Sit up for a moment."
Crestfallen, he did as she asked. But then she straddled his legs, pushed her hips towards his; his dismay transformed into puzzlement.
"You think the only reason I'm sleeping with you is because you're lucky?"
Han's grimace was mute and pained.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't care about you," Leia said. "It's not as though I jump into bed with any pretty face."
"I-I know. I didn't mean—"
She swallowed the rest of his words in her mouth, placing her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, her lips moving over his. Caught off-guard, he fumbled to return the kiss.
When she pulled away from him, he cocked his head. "Did you just call me 'pretty'?"
Leia shut him up with another kiss, her tongue gliding into his mouth, his arms circling her back. Rising on her knees, she dropped a hand and manoeuvred him into a better position, before sliding down onto him, joining with him in a delicious, shivering sensation. His eyes widened as he realised what she had done, and he moaned around her tongue. Her coiled spring tightened a notch.
As promised, he was hot and hard. She had tried not to measure her experience with Han against her experience with Kier, but it was an irresistible comparison. Older, taller, and broader across the chest and shoulders than Kier, Han was longer, thicker and harder when fully erect. And he knew what to do; how to stoke her fires; set a steady, tender rhythm that relentlessly drew her on and up; forcefully drove into her; ratcheting her desire until she was incandescent, shimmering and burning in one perfect moment.
Sex with Han gave Leia a level of carnal satisfaction she had not previously realised existed. Her reaction to him was wanton, what others may have thought of as out of character, but this was who she was: a sensual, passionate woman who wanted to be loved and cherished as much as she loved and cherished. In Han, she had found her sexual match as well as her soul mate.
Hips flowing against his, Leia threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged his head back, her mouth working over his chin and jaw, along the cords of his neck and onto the swell of his larynx.
"Did I tell you this is my favourite position?" she said into his skin, teeth gently nipping as she spoke.
He struggled to reply. "You mighta…mentioned…somethin'."
She blew her breath into his ear, used the words he used and loved hearing from her. "I love fucking you like this." He trembled beneath her. "Love riding your cock." He gasped as she clenched him between her legs. "Love your cock because it's part of you, and because I love you."
Using his shoulders as leverage to rise and fall in his lap, she intently watched his face as he processed what she had told him.
His eyes looked dazed as he softly asked, "Yeah?"
She repeated his response back to him. "Yeah," adding, "I love you," sealing her pledge with a gentle graze of her mouth against his.
He tracked her movement as she shifted up, sank down, pushed herself against his lower abdomen. "Love you, too."
Her smile was softly teasing. "You don't have to say it back."
"I want to say it back," he insisted. "Besides, I said it first."
She lovingly chuckled. "Of course, you did. You win."
"You bet I do. It's what I'm good at." He grinned at her. "Wanna know what else I'm good at. Whatever you want."
Leia settled on his legs. "I want you."
"You got me," he promised. "I love you."
Cradling the side of his face in her palm, she said, "I love you, too."
Han's weight was wonderfully comforting, grounding, solidifying the fact that this was no dream. What was happening between them was real. She was in love with him, and he with her.
Legs and fingers entwined with hers, his head rested on the plane between Leia's shoulder and breast. They hadn't fallen asleep after they made love, content to quietly rest in the afterglow, ignoring the chores that waited for them outside the confines of the cabin. Leia really needed to use the sani, but as this moment between them was too precious to disturb, it could wait.
There was a pleasant weariness in her body, the result of stretched muscles, ligaments and tendons, an increase to her breathing, and the raising of her heart rate. Her hair was a mess, lips kiss-swollen, skin marked by the indentation of fingers and teeth. Han's fluid on her inner thighs a lingering remembrance of the pleasure they had given and shared.
Enjoying the simple indulgence of doing nothing but holding each other, Leia's mind's took flight, spinning childish fantasies to amuse herself.
They reach Bespin, repair the hyperdrive, and after week to recover from the confines of sublight space travel, she and Han fail to return to the Alliance, disappear into the Outer Rim, and are never heard of again.
They return to the Alliance, grateful for her safe return, Han is offered a commission into its forces. He accepts because he loves her. Commander Solo. She decides it has a nice ring to it.
Alderaan has not been destroyed. Her parents are alive, still surreptitiously fighting the good fight against the Empire. Leia introduces Han to them. "Well, mother, you said it would do me good to fall in love with a scoundrel. Here his is. I know you will grow to love him, though perhaps not the way I do. And it may take you a while. For that, I apologise in advance."
Leia lined her palm and fingers up with Han's, marvelling again at the disparity between their hands: size, colour, shape and texture. They were so different, and yet fit so well together.
"What's your favourite fantasy?" she asked, slotting her fingers alongside his. There were still more flirty, dirty questions to ask, and many more hours before they reached their destination.
Han kissed the base of her throat and said, "I'm livin' it, Sweetheart."