A/N: *giggle* steeeeeeaaaaaaamy!! This BETTER be good… it's the reason this story's rating isn't a PG! But it isn't incredibly detailed and icky. Carmen no write icky porno crap. But I wasn't sure what to rate this. I knew practically every term there was by age 11 (lol big sisters, gotta love them) so to me, PG13 would've been suitable!! But heck… just let me know how it is. Thanks for all the reviews, too!!!! That's like a record LOL I didn't think anybody liked my work, I never got more than 6 on any other story *sniffle* but YAY!!! Hehe…
It had first begun as an abrupt thrumming, like a mild force driven onto a strong, hollow surface. The trickling of water from the tub obscured clearer hearing, but Padmé knew something wasn't right. Despite the way her bathing quarters was shaped to make all sounds echo and others beyond unheard, she could hear the silent footsteps, and couldn't ignore the feeling in her gut that was warning her of danger. Someone was in her apartment.
She rose from the tub, risking an accident by keeping her eyes peeled to both open doorways— one that led into her walk-in closet, the other into the foyer. All beyond those doorways was masked darkness, and she almost wished she could stay in the dim room where she stood, for that least bit of light. Her body chilled and dripping on the marble tile, she walked carefully to a sofa chair where a slinky gray nightgown was slung over the arm. The thin, almost transparent, material did little to settle the chills in her body, but was better than streaking.
Her panic driven instincts brought her through her room first. Under her pillow, below her bed sheets, she drew out a small pistol, a finely made, yet lethal, weapon constructed of Aquilarus metal. The gun was small enough to fit in her petite hand, but despite its size, she felt safer. She strode cautiously to the foyer archway, reassuring herself that with one shot of the Corellian-traded device, her target— the intruder— would be fried from the inside before suffering a convulsion that would knock him senseless.
Him? It could be female, too, she reminded herself grimly. Neither gender was less lethal than the other.
Padmé peered around the corner briefly, taking in a nervous breath as she prepared to step into an even darker territory. Her legs itched as droplets of water trickled down her skin. The silky gown, one that rose to only her thighs, was glued to her body, and she found herself feeling naked.
The noises had stopped, she observed in silence, but the intruder's presence was near. Eyes were on her… somewhere. Someone was ready to lunge at her, and she feared tearing her eyes away from her blind trail ahead. There was some light, peeping through the thin gaps of the curtains over her windows. They were glaring lights from traffic in the byways of Coruscant that created horizontal shadows along the floor, dancing lively. With the falling snow, it was like a mystical illusion. At the moment, it was eerie, but with the silent, ghostly illusions, she was offered a helpful dosage of much needed light.
Her heart suddenly jumped, beating three times to almost one hundred a second. There was a presence behind her, too quick and too strong for her to resist from.
Two large, warm, calloused hands came in contact with her body. One grabbed her face, the other taking hold of the pistol held stiffly in her hand. The mysterious force was trying to pry her hands away from it.
"Shhhh," a deep voice spoke. It was strange, totally unfamiliar. But oddly enough, even a stranger's voice would be easier to identity than this. It was something she could not comprehend. "Don't say a word. Drop it— drop the gun." It was a man, whispering harshly in her ear.
She struggled, but the stranger looming over her was much too strong. He wasn't trying to hurt her, but he held her firmly, and moved nearer to her body, almost rubbing against her.
Her defiant protest was a painful one to her assailant. The attacker led out a low cry as his bitten hand dropped from her face. Padmé reached for the pistol, captured it. She aimed upwards, and pressed her finger against the trigger—
Her hand went stiff. She was being held back, and her arm was being tugged to the side by an invisible force. Looking up at the tall, darkly clothed man, face masked in the shadows, she pleaded with terror in her eyes, and fought to be freed from the unknown chain. Her whimpers were suddenly loud in the silence as her hand was pulled away from good aim…
The instant the forcing bondage was freed, a warm hand came upon her arm that grasped the pistol. And the voice was unveiled…
"This isn't why I purchased that thing for you..."
The pistol dropped, and her body fell limp for a split moment. Now that she knew his voice she knew his face, and saw it even in the darkness. Her jaw dropped for a moment as she looked up at the Jedi. Her jaw then clasped tight, and she threw her hand into the air.
Padmé slapped Anakin across the face. And she wished for a moment that she had punched him unconscious, instead.
After the gruesome, cracked echo had cleared from the room, Anakin looked back at her, rubbing his jaw line, frowning. "I was going to apologize… Too late, maybe?"
It was then that she threw her arms around him, clasping the back of his robes, burying her face into his neck, or as far as she could reach considering his height. Her embrace grew tighter as she struggled to stand higher in his arms. He was so warm…
"Or not," he chuckled.
"You're a little too hopeful." She backed away, and adjusted her nightgown. Then, she glared up at him, and pointed an accusing finger. "I'm still very angry at you."
He folded his hands in front of him beneath his sleeves, grinning, and nodding, unconvinced.
"I am!" She walked to her room, leaving him trailing behind. "Did you at least close the door behind you?"
"Yes." He picked up the Corellian pistol, and watched in amusement as she trailed a number of wet footsteps on the luxurious blue carpet. Her small form disappeared around the corner. He spoke to her from the foyer. "Like I was saying, there was a purpose for this gun."
"Yes— self-defense." Her tone was a little bitter, and terse.
He put her blame aside, and studied the gun in the palm of his hand. "I knew those security guards wouldn't hold up. I'm glad I got this for you."
"But that isn't fair for the security. You're a Jedi."
"Dooku was a Jedi."
She didn't reply for a long while. He could sense her dying urge to argue— even just slightly. She, at last, decided to do just that. "Too bad I didn't use it… even if it was on you."
"You were going to!" He smiled to himself auspiciously. "I guess I did a good job…"
Padmé looked passed the doorway. "What?"
He shook his head, and she vanished yet again, but not without taking his words into consideration. She would remind herself to take it up with him later.
Anakin walked into the fresher. Interested the moment he caught a glimpse of his beautiful wife, he leaned up against the doorway, taking in the 'splendid' image.
She was nearly drenched. Her long curls had soaked her back, and the rest of her wet body had made the material tight and see through. At the moment, she was wrapping her hair in a towel. All the while, he found himself staring at her, wanting to touch her, feel her…
"I'm glad you're back. Three weeks passed by slower than I could have imagined."
"We fought well. I was called back to Coruscant a few days ago." He paused. "Master Yoda said I'm ready to take the trials. He wanted to take a pre-examination. Sparring. I wanted to contact you right away—"
"Don't worry!" She leaned up and kissed him briefly on the lips. "Duties are important."
Anakin entered her bedroom— their bedroom— and removed his robes. They were dirty, and felt even more soiled than they really were. He presumed that was because he knew where they'd been, and they really didn't show half of the disgust in which they had been worn. He tossed them into a heap on a sofa chair in the corner of the room, and missed. They plummeted heavily to the floor.
"Pick that up."
"Yup." Anakin collapsed onto the bed and folded his hands behind his head. He began to remove his boots, and Padmé was suddenly in the doorway.
She gazed at him suspiciously, but her smile couldn't be forced back. Knowing what he had was going to do, she shook her head in disapproval.
Anakin groaned, and sat up to remove his boots— properly.
"Set them in the fresher. I'll have Dormé clean them up for you."
"Thanks." He grinned, seeing her still standing in front of him. Obviously, she disapproved of him still seated on the bed in his dirty attire. "My clothes are filthy, but I'm not. I swear."
That was enough for her, she decided, and removed the towel from her hair. She gazed at herself in the long mirror, and wished she had her own bath robe to wrap around her visibly chilled body.
Anakin had just taken off the last of his shirt layers when Padmé strode to the bedside where he sat. He peered up at her with concern.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't want you to leave again."
He gazed at the floor, wishing he could simply say he was staying, for good. At least In Coruscant. But he never lied to her before, and he wasn't about to start. There were surely many more dutiful missions of peace bringing— no, more like war— ahead of him.
"I…"
"Don't say it." She wrapped her arms around her body as a shiver ran through her. "I just needed to get that out of my system." She frowned, looked down upon herself, and turned away.
"What else…?"
She wasn't trying to be provocative, but her appearance made it look it. "I'm cold," she whispered.
Anakin smiled, and took her hands in his. The nightgown was incredibly sirenic, and he wanted to tear it off her. Just looking at the slinky thing flowing so perfectly and gracefully against her curves was making him excitable. "You're dripping."
She smirked with embarrassment— it was one of the few times she displayed such emotion. "Well, I'm wet. And…" She began to slowly inch closer to him, watching her feet as she did so. "It's been a long time since you held me." She ran her hands through his hair as she climbed onto his lap. "Warm me up," she whispered in his ear, and met his lips.
Anakin took no time to think twice of what to do next. This was what he'd been craving for so long. Too damn long. He clung to her faster than a vicious Ansionian shanh to its prey— but just as fiercely. His hands ran freely up and down her body, his newfound thrill being the place upon her thighs. As he turned to focus on what he was doing, she began to kiss his neck, nibbling on his ear, and caressing his firm, built chest and arms.
His hands trailed up her leg, slowly pulling up the silky fabric of the short dress and sneaking beneath it to feel further up her hips, waist...
Moaning in response to his warm touch upon her skin, she started to squirm in his lap, rubbing between his legs and heaving herself closer into his body. The warmth that radiated from him was magnificent.
Anakin clenched his teeth, losing concentration. He grasped her waist, hoping to end her torture upon him. "What are you trying to do to me?" he inquired desperately.
Padmé met his eyes with a mere centimeter between their gazes. "What am I doing?"
He closed his eyes, a crazed fire of lust threatening to spill over. "Bad things… very bad—" He couldn't take it anymore. With only the requirement of a little bit of his strength, he propelled her off his lap and laid her upon the bed. "You have sinister intentions—" He kissed her neck, and moved down to the grooves of her collarbone, tracing a path with the light touch of his fingers. "— Torturous deeds. Well, Senator…" He straddled her while slowly sliding his hand up her legs from beneath her alluring attire. He leaned close to her ear, and hissed, "It's my turn."
She was in bliss. It was simply his touch that drove her wild. He caressed her body with a soft touch that sent a chilling sensation all over, touching the most sensitive places in the far inner parts of her thighs, along a trail over her abdomen— often lower— and around her waist, never really accessing her most private areas. By now, they were the areas she desperately wanted him to be teasing her, rather than the endless struggle for control he was putting her through. He was taking it slow, and enjoying her silent wails for more.
His lips met with hers, and, finally, his fiery touch came upon her breasts. His hand was cupped firmly around them. He was satisfied with where he was positioned— all in all, wrapped in her legs and pressed closely to her body with his magical touch still in motion, he was in a perfect place for tease.
His kiss, as always, grew deeper in fiery lust as he proceeded. All the while, he was pressing his lower body closer and closer, squirming between her entwined legs, and lifting the gown further up at a gruelingly patient speed.
"I don't like your pace," she said as she familiarized his arousal at the hem of the skirt— now situated as far up her thigh as it would go. "Take it off," she moaned.
His lips parted from hers for only a brief second, the need for air becoming more mandatory as their embrace deepened. He also felt he was using up most of his energy, through the Force, to stay in control and where he needed to remain until he could give way. Unbeknownst to her, the struggle was far more intense for him, and she was not suffering nearly as much.
"Take it off…" she repeated, raising her voice as her moans deepened.
"Not happening," he murmured against her lips.
Amazingly, she managed to squirm out from beneath him faster than he would have imagined possible considering their closeness. Panting, he laid face down before turning over to… Well, he'd do something, but he was too relieved to be freed from his draining place atop her to really take note.
Once he rolled over, she immediately got to work removing his trousers. But he was stronger…
Grasping her waist, he pulled her into his lap, held her tighter than ever. "What are you doing?"
"Let me go, Anakin," she pleaded, almost growling furiously. Lust made her fierce, and even sexier.
Still holding her waist with one of his toned arms, his other roamed to her breast, squeezing it with ferocity and not willing to halt the circular rubbing motion of his large hand. "Even now?"
Padmé was close to tears. But her frustration drove her towards massive anger. She clenched her teeth and leaned her head back against his shoulder, unable to keep both her thoughts of erupting fury and raging delight in a stable, controlled place. And she was on the brink of losing all control… "I hate you," she moaned. Of course, it was a lie. A massive lie.
"I love you. And I've missed you. Now it's time you see how much." He was removing his own trousers, and still holding her in place. How he did it with her struggling even more now was elusive. But he was finally doing it…
Padmé fell against the bed covers, closing her eyes as though she were already in bliss. She finally had him— the only man she loved, and would ever love. Her husband. Her friend forever.
She was going to enjoy the moment for every second it was worth. Because how long she would have him was beyond her…
A/N
He He He… so that was the "steamy" chapter. I didn't want to get into TOO much detail— I even felt that I went a bit too far. Aw well, I liked writing this chapter ;) FOR GOOD REASONS, neh?
With good feedback, I'll get to the next chapter— the final chapter. DUN DUN!! Not so HOT, not so action packed. Unless you get the jollies from wrinkly creepy bastard Palpatine, who might I add, is a stinky old fart. And I HATE THAT GUY!!!!! AHHHHH!!!!! It'll be dramatic. That's what I'm aiming for! But there may be a delay. My semester is intense, so I'll try to get the last chapter up soon! I'll appreciate your patience!!!