Chapter 2
Two nights later she came back to his ship. During the days they had studiously avoided any reference to what had happened. Her typical irritation and attraction when she saw him on the base now included a newly cracked-open lust with only the memories of that night to soothe it. The unspoken communication that served them well in times of danger came through for them now; only their eyes, knowing and challenging, had changed.
She knew that Chewbacca was scheduled to be on watch; he knew that she knew and was waiting for her.
With a level of confidence that surprised even her, she walked onto the Falcon and raised the ramp herself. He stepped out of the cockpit and ran his eyes over her unabashedly. Her breath came out quickly as he sauntered over, only the clenching of his jaw muscles betraying his need.
Neither of them spoke as they appraised each other. Han lifted his hand to the back of her head, his fingers kneading into her neck and then crushed his mouth to hers.
The force of their kiss propelled her backwards. Her shoulder banged into a sharp piece of the hull and she gasped in response, the pain registering despite his hungry hands and mouth.
He mumbled an apology against her lips, his hand soothing away the pain. Forgotten now, she ran her fingers over his back and under his shirt while his tongue slid into her mouth. She moaned at the invasion, at the jolt that registered between her legs when her tongue met his, the motion sensual and arousing.
He growled into her mouth as her hands moved to his chest and pulled her wrists away, pinning them against the bulkhead. "Not yet," he said, before he kissed her again.
She writhed against him, lifting a leg around one of his in an attempt to dislodge herself, her mouth never breaking their kiss. Frustrated, she pulled her head away and glared at him.
"Who says you get the upper hand?" she demanded.
"You can't hide how you feel about my hand, Sweetheart," he grinned.
"Sweetheart?" She raised her eyebrows. "I thought we discussed that."
He frowned. "Discussed… nope, doesn't ring a bell. I remember yelling… lots and lots of yelling. And then," he leaned closer, a finger winding a path on her neck, "not yelling. Or maybe," he whispered, his mouth following his finger, his voice muffled against her skin, "a different kind of yelling. Baby." He punctuated the last word with a bite where her shoulder met her neck, drawing a shudder from her as he stood up straight. "But definitely no discussion."
"You're impossible," she murmured, her hands on his belt.
"Whatever you say, Sweetheart." The last part was mumbled against her lower lip, his interest in the conversation clearly over.
Later in his bunk, sweat freckling their skin, they lay on their backs, fingertips touching lightly.
Han drew in a shaky breath. "Believe it or not, I was plannin' to go slow this time."
"Really? Since when have you ever been patient?" She smiled languidly, her body limp with pleasure.
"Me?" He propped himself up on an elbow. "You're the one who couldn't even wait to be properly rescued from the Death Star."
Too late he was afraid of upsetting her, but instead she barked out a laugh.
"I can only imagine what a proper Han Solo rescue would look like."
"I'll tell you what it looks like," he growled. "First there's a little of this," he brushed his stubble under her neck, "and then there's some of this," his mouth finding her breast, teeth grazing her nipple, "and then lots and lots of this." He tickled the side of her stomach making her shriek with laughter.
She recovered from the attack to find him staring down at her, his eyes soft.
"I like seeing you this way," he said.
"What way?"
He couldn't bring himself to say happy. "Relaxed. At ease."
Her mouth quirked up. "I suppose that's partly due to you."
"Suppose? Suppose?" He threatened her with his stubble again. "That's the most lukewarm review I've ever had."
She eyed him mischievously. "I find that hard to believe."
Han dramatically clutched his heart and flopped down on the mattress in mock indignation. After a few seconds, he opened one eye to see her hovering over him, her lips twitching.
"Are you done?"
"I suppose."
He saw the pillow coming from a parsec away, but allowed it to hit the side of his face all the same. After all, it was an excuse to tackle her in return, flip her onto her back, and pin her wrists above her head. He ran his other hand over her curves, the smooth skin reigniting his arousal, and threaded his tongue into her mouth, the sensation still new and shocking with her. She wrapped her legs around his torso and squeezed his ribs with her knees in an attempt to disarm him.
"Is that all you got?" he growled against her neck.
Her eyes glinted up at him as she opened her mouth.
His laugh hit just before his kiss. "Don't say it."
She shook her head, eyes wide, lips clamped shut. "I wouldn't dream of it. Never again."
He shook his head back in amusement and bent down to nudge her lips open with his tongue. He kissed her slowly, his lips lingering against hers, enjoying the change in tone of the little sounds that emanated from her. His grip on her wrists loosened and she drew her hands down his back, smoothing over his buttocks and around his thighs to the coarse curls between his legs, her fingers fluttering along his hardening length.
After that, there wasn't any talking for a while.
Leia fitted her body against Han's side, her head on his shoulder, the position already familiar and comforting in their post-coital state. His fingers played up and down her spinal column, the motions both precise and casual, as he breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of her hair, of their coupling.
He pulled himself more fully upright against the pillow and stifled a yawn. "Chewie and I are leaving on another run tomorrow. Ren Altari. Be about five days."
"I know," she answered.
"'Course you do."
He paused. "Want to come with us? You could negotiate for more medical supplies."
"Yes…" she sighed. "But not on such short notice. I'll see what I can come up with in the near future."
"Besides," she teased, "you should use that time alone to plan in detail for the nice and slow when you return."
"Don't need to plan, Sweetheart." He tapped his head. "Got it all up here already. It's just the execution that can get tricky."
Leia sat up in order to look at him fully. Be careful, she thought. Ren Altari was not part of an Imperial stronghold, but there were few star systems that were completely safe. Han, blithely unconcerned with his personal safety in situations that sensible people would describe as harrowing, would not have understood her worry.
She settled for brushing an invisible strand of hair off of his forehead. "Don't do anything stupid, Hotshot."
Five long days later Han strode down the ramp of the Falcon. A base crew was there to unload the crates from the ship's storage holds. He motioned to them where to go and then continued to the hangar floor where Leia was waiting.
"Captain." The beginning of a smile was in her eyes.
"Your Highness."
She met him often enough when he returned that it wasn't out of the ordinary for her to be here. He took the datapad from her hands to scan the itemized inventory and scrawled a quick signature at the bottom.
"Was your trip smooth?"
Not as smooth as… He stopped himself, keeping his Sabacc face intact. "Uneventful."
"Uneventful," she repeated. "In that case, I hope you found a way to fill your time… productively." She bit her bottom lip, the tip of her tongue peeking out briefly, and looked up at him under her lashes.
Kest. Two could play that game.
"Well," he said, keeping his voice neutral, "I did find some time to strategize about ways to increase cooperation between members of High Command and the mercenary class."
"Is that right?" she nodded slowly. "And what… strategies… did you come up with?"
He leaned forward enough to make her step back. "They're quite complicated, Princess," he rumbled. "It would require a full debriefing session to explain them properly."
"You don't say." She looked up at him in mock surprise. "In that case, I suggest we meet in an hour. You'll be prepared?"
He had only started to nod when she spun around and left the hangar.
"Leia," he whispered into her skin. "Leia."
Han's lips trailed down the side of her neck, punctuating her name with kisses. His hands were under her shirt, light on the skin of her back, playing a pattern around to her stomach and up over her bra. She shivered above him, rising on her knees in an attempt to steer his head lower.
When she arrived on his ship, he had pulled her onto his lap in the acceleration chair and kissed her hungrily, his hands kneading her head, her shoulders, as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends against his neck. But soon they both slowed their touches, their kisses, in an unspoken attempt to delay their coupling, to draw out the anticipation.
"You missed this," she murmured, tilting her head up as he sucked at her pulse point. She gasped, her skin fluttering under his teeth, her heart stuttering in her chest.
He grunted in response as he thrust his hips toward her center only to have her rise higher above him. She brushed her thumbs on his temple and tilted his head back to kiss him. For a while he kissed her back languidly before pulling her hand away from his head and placing it firmly on his hardness. She pressed down gently with her palm and broke the kiss, watching his pained expression in amusement.
"You did miss this," she teased.
"I'm not denying it," he growled back. "You gonna to sit here and tell me you didn't miss this?"
She ignored the question and stroked him slowly, slowly, through his pants. "I was rather hoping you would tell me what… plans… you devised."
"Sure, Princess," he smirked, his fingers enclosing her wrist and sliding her hand away from his cock. Some modicum of control returned to him as he pulled her down firmly on his knees.
"So…," she prompted, squirming a bit, trying to press his thigh against her center, the need for that delicious pressure welling inside her. He just chuckled in response to her attempt and held her tighter.
"Well, Your Highness," he drawled, "I thought my opening move would be —," he jerked his head toward the Holochess table — "over there."
Her eyes followed his across the hold. "There?" she hissed. "What if —," she glanced in the direction of the Falcon's ramp.
His fingers traced the outline of her breasts through her shirt, a shirt he hadn't seen her wear before. It was thin enough for her nipples to be visible under her bra, and he made a show of rubbing slow circles over them, coaxing her with his touch.
"I told Chewie to make himself scarce for a few hours," he murmured.
Her expression remained wary even as she leaned into his touch, arching her back to increase the pressure. "And what if someone else wants to find you?"
His tongue darted to the indentation above her collarbone. "Nah," he responded against her, his fingers undoing the top button of her shirt. "Not likely."
"That's not very reassuring," she murmured.
"Hey, I have the reflexes of a Termullian jungle cat," he protested, his eyes fluttering up from her chest. "In the event of danger, I'll whisk you off to safety."
"You better," she retorted sternly. A second button was undone and he was fingering the creases on her skin from her bra straps. "Or else I'll maul you."
He looked up again and winked at her. "I like the sound of that."
She rolled her eyes. "You would." With the barest tilt of her head, she indicated toward the table.
A slow grin spread across Han's face as he tackled the rest of the buttons of her shirt before gathering her to his chest and carrying her over to the edge of the table.
His boyish anticipation was suddenly endearing to her, and she pulled his head to hers, kissing him soundly, her tongue tracing the inside of his lips before sliding inside. He moaned and tugged her shirt down her shoulders and then reached around her back to unhook her bra. She helped him shrug off her shirt and the bra followed, Han tossing it on the floor.
Her breath was coming out in short gasps; she wanted his hands on her, all over her, but he was arranging her shirt behind her, spreading it out on the table first. His consideration touched her. "You did plan this out," she murmured appreciatively, drawing her fingers gently around his ear.
"Want you to be comfortable, baby," he whispered into her ear. She shivered in response and and leaned into him as he cupped her breasts with his hands and ran his fingers over her exposed nipples. She sighed and reclined on her elbows, drawing him over her, and closing her eyes to intensify the sensation. His mouth wandered across her jaw and then further down until he sucked a nipple firmly in his mouth. She whimpered, lifting her hand to caress his head, her fingers winding through his hair, down to his neck. The other nipple was treated to the same ministrations of his mouth before he kissed his way down to the waistband of her pants.
He flicked his gaze up and she nodded, her chest heaving, as he slowly pulled down her pants and underwear. He knelt on the floor and she watched him intently as he tugged at the laces of her boots impatiently until the footwear hit the floor with the rest of her clothes.
"Now," he said in a low voice, lifting her knees over his shoulders and spreading her thighs apart, "I thought I'd take it real slow this time."
A flush of pleasurable anticipation coursed over her, causing her hips to buck involuntarily. "Fuck, Han," she hissed, momentarily overcome by the situation: perched up on his table completely naked, legs open, while he was fully clothed below her, intent on ravishing her with his mouth.
The warmth of his breath hit her inner thigh as he paused. "Later," he promised, his voice husky, and then his mouth descended fully on her.
Her muscles twitched as he slowly nibbled toward her center. His mouth was light on her outer lips before he descended on her other thigh, performing the same excruciatingly slow path. Anticipating her protest, he pressed his hand against her, his fingers delicately exploring her wet folds, dipping inside her briefly before withdrawing and landing anywhere but where she wanted them most. His other hand smoothed up her stomach to knead a breast before coming back to her hip, cupping her bottom to anchor her against him.
She dug her heel into the back of his head in frustration. He chuckled and finally — finally — spread her folds with his thumbs and lowered his head to her center.
At the first touch of his tongue, Leia lay back fully on the table whimpering in relief. She dragged her hand over her face and tangled it in her hair as Han explored her thoroughly with his mouth. Gods, he was so good at this. A delicious swelling spread through her body only to contract as Han backed off on the pressure and then rise again as he found a new spot to focus on. His tongue was everywhere but only stayed briefly, lightly, where she needed it most.
Soon she was moaning and cursing, trying simultaneously to increase the pressure against her most sensitive spots while staving off her climax for a little while longer. She felt Han's mouth shift as he thrust two fingers inside her, twisting them firmly and pushing up against her. One of her hands flew instinctively to her lower abdomen, and she pressed in the same spot, her body now shaking with the dual assault.
"Han…," she breathed. "I'm close… please." Any shyness she might have felt by begging had long been subsumed under the talented techniques of his tongue and fingers.
She felt the growl in the back of his throat as he focused his tongue directly on her clit, swirling and jabbing it against her sensitive tip. Her impending orgasm climbed higher and higher only to hover unbearably, almost out of reach, her nerves taut in anticipation, his tongue and fingers thrusting faster and faster before the wave crashed over her, once, twice, her scream filling the hold, her breaths coming out as sobs.
In her post-orgasmic haze, she was vaguely aware that he was kissing his way up her body until his head was over hers, his thumbs rubbing tender circles on her temple as he nuzzled her face. "You good, baby?" he murmured in her ear.
The way he asked her that, wanting to hear her explicitly confirm what he knew was true, made her exhale a laugh. His arrogance, so frustrating in their other interactions, had the opposite effect when it came to sex; any insecurity on his part would have doomed them, she felt; she was discovering that she was not someone who had any patience with a lack of confidence in bed.
She tilted her head up to find his eyes. "Yes, I'm good," she whispered. She found his lips and kissed him hard, finding her words inadequate for how he made her feel. "Han," she moaned, withdrawing briefly while rubbing his hardness with the arch of her foot, "I want you to fuck me."
"Gods, you—," he groaned, his eyes closing as he thrust against her. He recovered momentarily and looked down again. "The bunk?" he asked, jerking his head toward his cabin.
"No. Here." she whispered. The table was in no way comfortable against her back, but she liked the rawness of it, liked the way he was looking at her with a desire bordering on desperation.
His hands were quick on his belt and pants as he shoved them down and leaned over her again. She drew a leg up, her knee almost touching her shoulder, as he positioned himself against her and entered her swiftly. He slid an arm under her back to tilt her hips up further and she gasped at the sharp penetration.
"You good?" he asked again, his hips withdrawing slowly.
"Yes… yes," she whispered against his jaw. Even draped over her like this he was too tall, but she didn't care, couldn't care, as he gripped her body tightly against his chest and surged back into her.
"Fuck… fuck," he gasped. "You feel so good, Sweetheart."
He sank into her slowly at first, then faster, each thrust penetrating deeper than the one before. She was beyond any coherent response and could only hold on tight to him, one arm around his neck and the other under his shirt, desperate to touch the smooth warmth of his skin. His pace was unrelenting and it didn't take long for her moans to start up again and his to take on a more desperate tone. Vague broken-off phrases came out of his mouth — so deep, baby, so wet, you're so wet for me Leia, always wanted it like this with you — that sent her into overdrive. Her body trembled uncontrollably as he thrust wildly, and she came again, the spike of pleasure almost painful.
He followed soon after and collapsed, panting, on top of her. When her presence of mind returned, she brushed his hair off of his sweaty forehead tenderly. Although she was naked, she was suddenly hot, Han's body a perspiring blanket above her.
She pushed him gently off of her. "Let's get up," she murmured.
He grunted an apology, still breathing hard from his exertions, and managed to fall onto the booth pulling Leia along onto his lap. He tugged his shirt over his head and leaned back and closed his eyes, exhaling deeply.
She felt cooler now, the circulating air of the ship a welcome breeze on her skin. Adjusting herself more fully upright allowed her to fit her body snugly into his; it also had the effect of reminding her that she would need to clean herself at some point. She shifted, reluctant to get up entirely to wash off in the fresher.
Han opened an eye. "Here," he said, handing her his shirt, a tired grin on his face. "It's already wet."
"Thanks, Hotshot," she whispered, balling the shirt between her legs and kissing his cheek.
He pulled her close again and rested his chin on her head, rubbing her back in slow circles. They were quiet for a while as they let their bodies recover, but Leia eventually nudged his jaw and looked up at him.
"So…," she began, "that was your opening move. What else did you have in mind?"
He looked down at her, chuckling delightedly. "Oh, I got lots more planned, baby," he rumbled. "But how 'bout we have a fresher and a drink first?" He caught her wary look at the open space of the hold. "We'll have it in my cabin, okay? You got the time?"
Leia had studiously loaded her duties while Han was off-base as compensation for clearing her schedule this evening. She hoped that the timing wouldn't be obvious to others in High Command, but even if it was, she supposed it was too late to care.
"Yes," she smiled at him. "I do."
