The Dinner Party 5
By Ash Darklighter
Disclaimer – The characters in this story are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. I am making no credits from this either Imperial or Republican. This fic is for Sienn. Just for her encouragement, lovely nature and her willingness to give feedback to absolutely everybody. This is a PWP and if you are looking for a plot, it really isn't there.
The Solo's Apartment – Coruscant
Like fire to durasteel, Mara moulded her lips to Luke's. His kiss was like a brand, burning into her sensitive flesh yet making her shiver with the finesse of sheer ice. It was a question and an answer, a demand and yet a supplication. It was more than either of them had ever experienced in their lives before. It was as if they'd suddenly come alive.
The tip of his tongue slipped between her lips and she opened to him, feeling hot and wanton. Hands clung and fingers clutched as they tried to get closer than their clothes permitted them to be.
"Luke!" Mara managed to say breathlessly in between kisses. "The couch."
"Yeah." Blindly without letting go of the woman in his arms, Luke managed to steer them towards the old nerf-leather couch Leia still kept in her office. Something toppled from the low table they brushed against in their haste to get there with an audible clunk but neither Luke nor Mara noticed. They sank down upon the worn black leather resuming their passionate kiss, Mara's hands going to the fasteners on Luke's tunic, desperate to feel skin against her fingertips…against her whole body. Her kiss to his neck, the curve of his shoulder was like heaven. Force he wanted her.
Shaken, at the depth of their need, they drew apart and stared at one another. Luke was breathing heavily, his blue eyes dark and wild as he gazed at Mara, beautiful in her dishevelment. Her hair had slipped from its elegant chignon and now fell in gentle waves across her bare shoulders which rose and fell with each breath she took.
"Stars!" he said and caught her to him again. He was hard and hungry all for her, his pants painfully tight. He'd been celibate since Callista had left him – hadn't wanted another woman. Any guilty pleasure he taken himself, had been with Mara's name spilling from his lips as his seed had left his body. But they way he was feeling right now, the way he had always felt for this maddening, spectacular woman, was beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. It left all his feelings for Callista in the shade. Luke had a fleeting moment of regret, wondering if the former Jedi had known that he couldn't love her as much as he thought he did.
"Luke?" Mara managed to say, although she wondered how she could say anything at all, as his hands began to wander in earnest bringing gasps of delight as he did so. This was worse than arm wrestling with a fully grown Codru-Ji. And they had only four arms. Skywalker felt as if he had six. Force, she was enjoying this. Who could have guessed that he would have this much talent? "Oh, Luke!"
"Yeah!" He had managed to push the swathe of soft material covering her breasts aside and was zeroing in on her pert nipple with the thoroughness an ace pilot needed to fulfil his appointed task.
"Are we horizontal or vertical?"
"Don't care."
Both of them had completely forgotten where they were or what they were supposed to be doing.
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Leia breathed a sigh of relief as her guests moved back into the lounge and the drinking and chatting resumed. Han was bent over the music player with a stack of discs, Wedge and Iella at his elbow, chuckling over some choice of song they'd admired in their younger days.
"Red Shift Limits?" Iella rolled her eyes.
"They were banned by the Empire," Wedge defended, his dark eyes brimming with laughter, sipping his drink.
"That only proves that the Imperial Board of Culture had working ears. It could have been worse, I suppose. You could have been a fan of Boba Fett and the Assassin droids."
"Oh, please. They were absolutely…" Wedge shook his head. "I may not have a particularly good ear but credit me with some standards.
Han began to list from side to side in what Leia recognised as a definitely drunken swagger and he began to croon one of their more infamous songs, 'If you're a biped, I can make you limp.'
Wedge rifled through the discs and crowed with laughter as Han's singing began to get louder and more off-key. "You've got a copy. I don't believe it. You actually own a copy. Stang, Iella! He owns a copy."
"It's Leia's." Han stopped singing and swaying.
"It is not," she said, coming up behind him. "You bought that on some world that was so primitive that I can't remember its name."
"Wedge still plays his Deeply Religious disc that he brought with him from Corellia before he joined the Rebellion." Iella shuddered. "It may have been anti-Imperial but it certainly isn't my kind of music. That copy is now years old. He should update."
"We can't all like the Coruscant Symphony," Wedge muttered. He'd ceased sipping and was now slugging back a large glass of whisky. "And it's more authentic when it jumps."
"I agree," Han said staunchly, a glazed expression on his face. "We once shifted a whole case of Deeply Religious black market holos in less than an hour. "I used to find that the 'Heavy Blaster Blues' helped me when the Falcon wasn't working too good."
Leia and Iella shared the exasperated 'men' look.
"He played it a lot," Leia muttered.
"I heard that." Han bristled at the implied slur on his beloved ship.
"What about Luke?" asked Iella.
"He likes the Coruscant Symphony," Leia admitted. "But he likes other things too. He's got quite varied tastes from Annadale Fayde to Starburst and I wouldn't be surprised if he had some of this in his disc collection too."
"Where is the Kid," Han asked suddenly, his gaze sweeping the room. "And where…" his eyes took on a crafty gleam, "is the lovely Mara Jade?"
"Probably avoiding Lando," Iella said with a chuckle. "How could you think, Leia, that Mara and Lando were…you know?"
"Going horizontal," Wedge slurred happily.
Iella sighed. "I may have to take Wedge home soon. He can't hold his whisky the way he used to. He thinks he can but he can't."
"I understand. As for your question, Mirax told me."
"She's usually better with the gossip than this. That's what marriage to a Corellian does to you I suppose. I just hope my mind deteriorates less quickly than hers did."
"Hey!" Two pairs of Corellian eyes glared accusingly at Iella.
"Where is the Commander?" Wedge peered owlishly around the room.
"Not here," Han said, with a vigorous nod. "Hey, Lando! Where's your date?"
Lando threw back his wine mulishly. "Talking Jedi with Skywalker. She seemed to recover very quickly."
"No Jedi talk allowed at Leia's party," Han said. "Come on Wedge, let's go and drag them from wherever they're hiding."
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Leia whispered to Iella, as a sudden sense of apprehension swept through her.
"Maybe we should just leave them talking Jedi," Iella suggested.
Han shook his head, his expression truculent. "I disagree. It's bad…bad…manners to talk Jedi at a party."
"Aren't you glad that Mon Mothma went home early?" Iella murmured.
"Yes. But this won't be anything that she hadn't seen before. It's a lesson that she's learned the hard way. As soon as she spotted the open bottle of Old Corellian on the sideboard I swear, Iella, that she called her driver early."
"That woman is a political marvel," Iella agreed smartly.
"Letsh go and get Luke…"
"Han…No! Leave them…"
"Good idea, Han." Wedge was becoming infected by Han's party spirit. "Get Luke and Mara. They should be having fun with us instead of having fun talking Jedi."
Han headed towards his wife's study, the rest of the group following. "Luke…Luke…no talking Jedi at my party. Leia why is the door locked?"
"It's locked?" Leia blinked in surprise. Luke and Mara were in her study with the door locked. Why would they have the door locked?
"They could be ill. Stand back!"
It was then that the credit dropped and before Leia could shout 'No!' Han had whipped out his blaster and fired at the door controls.