Hey lovelies!
Thanks so much for all the responses to the first instalment! Between you and me, I was always planning to do Anakin's POV, but now it's been requested, how can I refuse?
This is set a few months before the start of 'A Second Heart'. Anakin's dreams are getting intense… could it be a sign of something on the horizon?
As always, I own nothing at all in this chapter, so thank George Lucas if you enjoy!
And please review!
Thud.
Anakin looked up as a soft miscellaneous item ricocheted off the back of his head. Was he under attack from a baby Wookie?
His gaze followed the black ball of fluff as it bounced across the tent floor, finally settling by his backpack. Oh. Not Wookie pellets. A pair of his own regulation grey socks.
He glared behind him at his Padawan who was cackling with glee on the other side of the tent.
'That's not what I meant when by 'help me unpack', Snips' he snarled, steely façade cracking slightly as she keeled over with laughter. (She sure was milking the laughs for a very mediocre prank, he thought. The soft item barely tapped him. She had clearly spent too long in a tent with clones and was going mad. And honestly, he didn't blame her.)
'Well get your useless crap out of my backpack then Master!' Ahsoka spat back at him in between giggles as Anakin trudged to the corner of the tent to retrieve his dusty socks. God he was sick of wearing the same uniform day in, day out. Beige for desert, Dark for tundra. The thrilling switch between light brown and dark brown was the closest thing he had had to excitement in the last three years on the road. Living tent to tent, only a bag of old shirts and lost socks to call his own. A tumbleweed blowing in the wind.
That was one way to look at it.
Although the whole point of being a tumbleweed was no one could tell you what to do. Or where to be. Or any of the number of things demanded to him on a daily basis by his commanders.
He sighed. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his hyper padawan prancing around the tent wearing one of his old undershirts over her uniform.
'What the hell are you doing Snips! You look like you're wearing a bedsheet! You look like you're dressed as a ghost for Halloween!' It was his turn to choke back chuckles now.
'Well I wouldn't have to if half your luggage didn't end up in MY PACK!' she dramatically took off the old rag of a shirt, balled it up and chucked it at his head.
He laughed, dodging her throw with ease.
'Seriously master?' she wasn't playing now. 'Do you just leave your stuff lying around all over camp so that you have a lighter bag to haul about?'
He laughed. 'Maybe you need the extra backpack weight Snips. Maybe I'm trying to build up your strength for battle, get those stomach muscles a bit more toned. Maybe this is all a sly test as part of your rigorous Jedi training?'
She scoffed. 'My midriff is legendary. Sonnets could be written about these muscles.'
He rolled his eyes. Ahsoka may annoy the pants off him, but at least he had someone to joke about with. Breaks up the monotony of war, if nothing else.
'Right Snips, if you're done getting off on your own reflection, I have some unpacking to do. As do you! Go and find your own tent!'
Ahsoka looked at him with confusion. 'Master, you know we don't have our own tents in Eriadu, don't you?'
'What?' he looked at her with irritation. Was this another dumb prank? Was she about to pull out his spare glove from that backpack next and inflate it like some odd leather balloon animal?
'I'm serious master! Look' she pulled up an E-map from her weather-beaten commlink. 'Block C, Tent 3, Tano Skywalker and Kenobi.'
No.
'Let me see that' Anakin snatched the dusty device out his Padawan's hands, gazing at the incriminating list of names assigned to this one cramped tent. He looked around. Three small cot beds stood under the green tarpaulin, one in each corner.
No. This couldn't be.
'Well, if it isn't my bunk mates.' The irritation rolled off the voice of Obi Wan like mist off the sea as he stood in the doorway of the tent, blocking the last glimmer of sun and sapping Anakin's last hope of any privacy.
Obi Wan plonked his backpack down on the bed closest to the door as Anakin tried to form his outrage into a coherent sentence.
'Looking forward to our sleepover, gang?' Obi Wan's voice dripped with sarcasm as he raised an eyebrow to the hapless trio.
Anakin finally mustered the ability to use words.
'Well this isn't happening!' He crossed his arms in indignance, painfully aware that this pose gave him an uncanny resemblance to the elderly secretary who guarded the front desk of the Temple. ('And does Master Windu know of the appointment? I will remind you that all private functions must be confirmed on the holo-portal with at least 48 hours' notice.')
'Oh calm down Master' Ahsoka chuckled. 'It's only three days! Surely you can live without the Skywalker suite for that long!'
Anakin tried to battle the dread in his stomach. 'No! Master! You must be able to see this can't happen?!'
He looked almost pleadingly at Obi Wan, who was already beginning to unpack his perfectly folded garments from his backpack. This was not encouraging. But Anakin continued.
'Master, surely we can't allow a young female Padawan to share lodgings with two older Knights!' He was floundering now. Fuck it. Go for broke. 'Wha-What would the code say?' (Since when had he, out of anyone, cared about the code? The cracks in his armour were painfully apparent.)
Obi Wan turned and shot his former padawan a deflating look. 'Anakin. If anyone wants a night away from your snoring, it's me. But these provisions are final. I'm sure Padawan Tano knows we will respect her privacy in all ways we can.'
Ahsoka looked at Anakin like he was going mad. 'Yes Master Kenobi, I am fully aware that you'll respect my privacy.' She gave Anakin a scathing side eye as he shuffled uncomfortably, all too aware of how cramped the tent seemed with all three of them in it.
'What Master? You think I'm going to try and bang you in the middle of the night? You think you're that irresistible to me?'
Anakin glared.
'Of course not. Don't be snide- it doesn't suit you.' Realising there was no saving his dignity, he stormed out, shame at his immaturity already burning his ears before he left the tent.
Ahsoka's mouth dropped open. 'All that so he can get his beauty sleep?!'
Obi Wan just shot her a knowing look. 'You see what I've had to deal with for the last 3 years.'
Anakin sat on a rock overlooking a shallow wooded canon, peeling pieces of bark off a tree and chucking them at a nearby pile of rocks. He got it, OK? He looked like an infantile fool. They probably thought he was either the most vain man in the Galaxy, willing to throw tantrums for a night's kip, or secretly crushing on Ahsoka and afraid of the pains of getting too close.
They could never know the truth.
Well. If he could help it. If he was very unlucky, they could well know the truth by tomorrow morning.
This was not the first time Anakin had been plagued with bad dreams. His mother's death had been a continual source of anguish for him, haunting his dreams in a foreshadowing that spanned months before her murder at the hands of the Tuskan raiders. Obi Wan would regularly find him startled awake by screams, drenched in his own sweat. Or if he didn't find him in person, he would sense his torment through the Force. That had been enough of a strain on him; if the pain of watching his mother die night after night wasn't enough, waking up to a concerned Master reminding him that nightmares 'weren't the Jedi way' did nothing to soothe his angst.
At least those dreams, while deeply personal and fully out of his control, weren't quite as embarrassing.
Because while Anakin would, if pushed, admit he did get a degree of joy from his appearance, he would never kick up a fuss in the name of getting his beauty sleep. There was a far more humiliating reason that he was dreading sharing a tent tonight.
The Dreams, as he had begun to call them, had begun about two months ago. They were very hot, revolved constantly around the same themes, and occurred every. Single. Night. Without fail. In fact, they were frightening in their regularity. They might just be the only constant in Anakin's turbulent life. And the worst thing was that they always, without exception, ended with him waking up in a hot, sticky mess. Every night.
It was all just so humiliating. He was a grown man for the love of God, not some sexually repressed teen. Plus, the, ahem, nature of The Dreams was so embarrassing and depressing that there was a whole other layer of shame for him to contend with.
As I said, The Dreams occurred every night, the moment Anakin closed his eyes. They were always frighteningly vivid, so vivid that he knew there was no way that his 'strong emotional response' wasn't felt in The Force. (Another reason he was dreading sharing a tent with two highly tuned Jedi Knights. Especially when he couldn't maintain his Force Shields while sleeping.)
He was always oddly aware of his surroundings; the misty suspense of disbelief that often comes in dreams, changing your entire decision-making process, was no part of this ordeal. He was fully himself, Anakin Skywalker, making the active choice to debase himself night after night. And worst of all, they always, without fail, featured the one person who's presence affected him like no other. You've guessed it. Anakin was plagued nightly by extremely vivid, unnervingly sexual dreams about none other than Senator Amidala. The woman who he had been sickeningly in love for three years. Who he had neither seen nor heard from since he had been torn out of her arms by the cruel transporter that took him from Coruscant out to battle. He thought he would be gone three weeks, max. It had been three years.
He still sent the Senator long messages every night on his secret commlink that he had built out of leftover ship parts and tried to connect to a private holo-channel where their correspondence couldn't be detected. But he had never heard back from her. Not once. Not that he was giving up hope. He simply couldn't admit that she may not feel the same way after their three year separation. It wasn't possible. He could still feel her through The Force, her presence shining as bright as day every time he closed his eyes. He had to believe that the love she had confessed to him in Geonosis, 24 hours before he had been whisked out of her arms, was enduring. Because his was! He had thought of nothing else since. He just needed to get back to her. He had to.
Which was what made these dreams all the more humiliating. Because not only was Padme frighteningly real in every single one, she was also constantly cast in a vast array of roles, spanning every conceivable part.
With one exception.
Never had he ever dreamt of the two of them confirming their love. Not once. That single scenario alone seemed to evade his subconscious. Literally every other possibility had played out in all its tantalizing glory. She had been the cruel Empress, seducing him, her best gladiator, before his big fight. He had taken his dream-self off for relief at a brothel, only to pull back the curtain to reveal Padme, lounging on hot pink sheets in a sheer black teddy, nipple covers and black heels. Last night he had thought he was safe when he dreamt of being made to complete an impromptu piloting test. Until he found Padme hidden under the dashboard, smiling wickedly and wrapping her beautiful lips around his dick as he struggled to maintain composure of the space cruiser that he suddenly had to pilot.
As a rule of thumb, if he was aware he was himself in a dream, she was guaranteed to show up. And he was guaranteed to have dirty, torrid, passionate sex with her until he woke up in a humiliating, cummy mess.
God.
Why was his life so embarrassing?
The worst part was, this was hardly the first time she had been a figure in his dreams. As a child, she was a resounding figure of comfort at night. Whenever he was feeling especially lonely or homesick, she would have a knack of making an appearance in his dreams, washing away his fears and making him fall even deeper in love with her. This wasn't the first time his dreams had been…sexual either. He remembered at 14, a particularly memorable dream where he climbed in the window of Theed Palace. (What? He was an ultra-skilled Jedi! He could sneak by guards undetected no problem. Piece of cake.) He remembers sneaking down the unusually empty hallway until he reached the first door on the landing, which, conveniently, just so happened to be her chamber. And there she was, topless in the moonlight. That had been embarrassing.
Over the years, before they were reunited in Coruscant, he had even had sex dreams about her! A lot of them! His first kiss had been in a dream with her. She had flown into his window like the Angel she was and given him the softest, purest kiss, only to fly straight back out. He had counted it as his first kiss for years to come. (Secretly of course. Couldn't be ruining his hard-won rep by publicly venerating a dream kiss.) They had even been sexual! Many times! Many many times…
They just hadn't ended in 'completion'. Or, at least, not every time. And if they had, it would be a one-off humiliation, not some sort of awful nightly endurance test.
He wondered if this was some unique torture feature drawn up by a Sith Lord who had possession of his mind. Maybe Dooku had thrown a mind-control chip into his wound when he cut off his arm! That would explain why he was so angry all the time…
He sighed. He allowed his thoughts to vocalise the conclusion that he had secretly been dreading; maybe this was all because of some change in circumstance on her end. The last time he had had such vivid dreams was because of his mother was in real life peril. Maybe this nightmare was indicating something had happened to Padme in real life too. His heart suddenly ached with yearning to jump in his ship and fly back to see her. It wouldn't be the first time- he had almost flown back to Coruscant dozens of times in the last three years, unable to cope with the separation. One time he even made it to the hyperspace jump portals, before realising Obi Wan could track every move he made and would only be seconds behind him in a ship of his own. He would arrive in Coruscant for 10 precious minutes before his Master joined the party. No thanks.
A small voice piped up inside his head. Maybe The Dreams were because she wanted him too? Maybe that's what was causing it?
Dream on Ani. (He found this unintentional pun extremely unamusing. God, he was even angry at his own subconscious nowadays! Thank God it was taking them so painfully long to locate the elusive Sith Lord. He would be a sitting duck to be converted with all this anger in his veins.)
He sighed. What choice did he realistically have? Sleep in the forest and risk being chewed on by some dangerous creature in the dead of night? Or survive and face a lifetime of torment from his peers for choosing a bed of stones and twigs over sharing with them. He could share with some clones? Yeah right, like they wouldn't notice him screaming Senator Amidala's name in the night. If anything, they were more likely to repeat such a damning occurrence. At least his fellow Jedi brushed over his obvious infatuation, as awkward as he was about his obvious violation of the code. Plus, that option still opened him up to the teasing of Tano. Only one thing for it. He had to risk it.
Hope tonight was his one night of respite. Or at the very least, hope they didn't notice. He knew he had a tendency to call out her name in the heat of his imaginary passion…
He sighed, dragging his weary limbs up. What choice did he have?
'Oh the diva's back!' Ahsoka rolled over on her tiny bed to greet her Master with a wry smirk. 'Back from your quest to find a hydrating eye mask, Master?'
Anakin gave a post-verbal grunt in response, hoping she hadn't noticed his trembling hands. As he changed for bed, the queasiness in his stomach felt more like he was awaiting trail than going to sleep. Maybe he would be too nervous to sleep? He suddenly felt a ray of hope. Maybe he should just stay up all night? Was that the solution? Realistically, what did he have to do tomorrow anyway? Locate and destroy a Separatist settlement buried somewhere withing the Eriadu forest. Easy! He could do it with his eyes closed. (Don't say eyes closed! Keep those eyes firmly open!)
He nervously settled himself on his bed, purposefully ignoring Ahsoka's grin from across the room.
'Comfortable enough for you Master? You gonna get those precious 8 hours? Wouldn't want to wake up with puffy eyes now would you! Especially here, where not another living soul is going to see you!'
'Shut the fuck up Snips.' He said, rolling over to face the wall so she wouldn't see his worried face.
'Good night Sleepover Club! See you for the midnight feast!' Obi Wan wasn't usually one to engage in the infantile back and forth between the two younger Jedis, but tonight he couldn't resist.
Lights off.
Ok. Here we go.
What's the most intellectually rigorous subject that he could ponder all night long? What minefield could he mentally dive into headfirst? Galactic Law? Well he barely had enough knowledge to hold a short conversation with Palpatine about that, so all night might be a stretch. Maybe he could go through the ins and outs of what happened with Padme? NO! Why was that beautiful woman always seconds away from dominating his subconscious at all times! Thinking about her was a sure fire way to get her into his dreams. Not tonight.
Right, ok. Tonight would be the night he mentally rebuilt his starfighter from scratch. That was the perfect complicated, engaging and extremely un-sexy task. The ultimate test. He finally would have the answer to the eternal question; if you were stranded in a locked machinery warehouse, with nothing but spare parts to get you out, would you be flying free in a Jedi Fighter plane? Or would you die of starvation within the week.
Ok. Let's start with the engine. Line up the internal combustion tubes. Crank socket? Check. Compression gauge? Check. Barring tools…
Anakin could feel something brushing his cheek. A pleasant breeze stroked his body, a wonderful contrast to the warmth of sun shining on his face.
Oh God. What had happened.
He almost didn't want to open his eyes. Until he felt the soft brush of what he now knew was undeniably a finger on his cheek for a second time.
Tentatively, he cracked open one eye.
For God's sake. He almost wanted to laugh.
The scene that greeted him was almost comical in its beauty. From what he saw, he was in some sort of Hareem setting. Velvet daybeds in hues of turquoise and magenta lay languorously on an ornate marble terrace, cloaked in delicate sheer organza curtains that blurred his surroundings into mysterious shapes to be glimpsed at. The terrace was shrouded in palm trees and opened up to a glistening pool. And, lounging by his side like a puma, stroking his face with her delicate index finger, was Padme Amidala.
'Morning sleepyhead' she purred in his ear, wetting her full lips with her tongue as she spoke.
For God's sake.
He sat up. 'No Pad. I can't do this tonight.' He swung his legs over the daybed, getting up to leave.
'Where are you going Ani?' she laughed, draping herself across his shoulders as he tried to stand up.
He gently shrugged her off, unable to look at her.
'I'm leaving Pad. This isn't going to happen.'
'What isn't Ani?' her musical laugh sent shivers down his spine. No! He couldn't be putty in her hands. Not tonight.
'Plus, where are you going? You don't know where we are!'
She had a point.
He made the grave mistake of turning his head to see her giggling. He gulped. She was a picture. Her long brown hair was half up in a curly ponytail, the rest cascading like a waterfall down her back. She was wearing a silk red crop top, tied with ribbons and with billowing sleeves in the same sheer material as the curtains surrounding the bed. Her shoulders and toned stomach were exposed to his gaze. He couldn't help it. His eyes trailed down her body, taking in her red silk hareem pants, the red band threaded through her hair tying the entire sultry look together, and worst of all, the wicked giggle dancing across her gorgeous face.
'Pad, I can't do this. Not tonight.' He sank into a crouching position, almost begging her to stop the relentless torture her beauty was causing him.
'Do what Ani?' she laughed incredulously. 'I just want to catch up! I've missed you.'
Her gorgeous smile made his stomach drop. He tried not to look at her breasts, thinly concealed under the tight red top.
'You've missed me? Pad, you know fine well we saw each other last night!' He had clocked pretty early on in this nightmare scenario that his dream version of Padme also seemed to remember all the previous encounters as vividly as he did. He remembered drawing back the curtain of the unfortunate brothel scenario the night after his gladiator fantasy, only for Padme to greet him with a 'Hey soldier. Quite the performance you gave last night. How's about we go for round two?' Of course he had been more than happy to oblige. But he had had his own room then. Not in a communal tent with his Master and Padawan just feet away.
Padme giggled again. 'Oh yeah, I remember. You passed your pilot exam with flying colours didn't you Ani.'
She reached out and trailed her hand across his lower stomach, causing his traitorous body to visibly quake in reaction. Why couldn't he even play it cool in his own dreams?
'Look. Pad.' He took a seat on the marble floor, eye to eye with her lounging position on the bed. 'Let me level with you.'
She broke into a fully cackle. 'Ani, are you about to fire me? Is this my performance appraisal?' Her wicked grin was back. 'Because I give you an A+ in all errors. Especially the oral exam.'
His head sunk into his hands, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation. He had to refuse her?! He had to somehow manage not to sleep with the woman of his dreams as she practically threw herself at him. How was he supposed to manage such a mammoth task every single night! At least Hercules was limited to 12 labours- his were endless!
He just looked her pleadingly.
'Ani, what do you mean gazing at me with those big blue eyes?' she said through yet another musical giggle.
'You know Pad.' He was a pathetic shell of a man. She knew it.
'You don't want to hang out with me tonight?' She pouted her beautiful mouth, moving herself to the end of the daybed to run her fingers through his hair. He suppressed a moan at her touch as she tilted his head back.
'I can't Pad.' He gulped. 'I want to… oh god I want to. But I can't.'
He was pleading with her with his gaze. Please Pad. Please be stronger than me.
She laughed again, swatting him playfully. (Even that was painfully arousing to him somehow!) 'That's fine Ani! If you want to just talk tonight, that's completely fine!'
She sat up from her lounging position, the taught muscles of her stomach stretching and her tiny top somehow riding even lower across her breasts. Stop it Ani! You can do this.
She smirked. 'I'm not going to force you to be with me, even if we both really want to.'
Anakin breathed a sigh of relief, ignoring the screams of protest coming from his groin.
'Thanks Pad. Tonight's just not the night.'
'God, I get it Ani!' She smacked his shoulder again. 'You're over me. We are one of those 45 year old couples going through a sexual dry spell. I'm boring to you now.'
They were both laughing now, Padme refusing to look in his eyes, turning her head away jokingly so as not to meet his gaze. Ani grabbed her wrists, forcing her to look him in the eye.
'Shut up will you Pad!' he broke into a wide grin as she feigned outrage. 'What you did to me last night in that cockpit was… just… sinful. Are you a Sith Lord by any chance?'
She chuckled. 'If I was, don't you think I would have used my powers of manipulation to trick you into bed with me by now Ani?'
'Good point Senator. Aptly put.'
'So, what shall we do? I think I saw a chessboard lying around somewhere? Could crack out a game of checkers?'
He gently tapped her shoulder in a half-hearted attempt at a shove, mock-outrage painted across his face.
'Are you insinuating you only want me for my body Pad!'
She smiled up at him through her eyelashes. He was trying not to hyper-sexualise her, but she was hardly helping his case!
'Well Ani, look at you. I would have to be blind not to want you.'
'Padme, you and I both know you're a figment of my imagination right now. So you saying that is basically my ego reinforcing itself!'
She was keeled over in laughter now.
'Can we just respect that my subconscious has drawn up a scenario, independent from conscious thoughts, in which the woman of my dreams literally begs for my dick!' The two of them could barely control their laughs. 'Who is that level of arrogant!'
'I don't know Ani, it's not a glowing testament to your modesty I'll give you that.'
'I might be the most arrogant man in the Galaxy!' She stroked back his hair.
'Or maybe you're just so desperate to be close to me again that your subconscious is doing you a huge favour to make it happen?' Padme smiled up at him. 'Do you spend every night overwhelmed with excitement at the prospect of seeing me as soon as you close your eyes?'
Anakin smiled. How did she know? Oh yeah, she was a figment of his own imagination. That gave her exclusive access to his innermost thoughts.
'Of course I do Angel' he smiled, leaning in towards her gorgeous face. Wait. No! Shit! He couldn't touch her.
He leaned away from her as she ran her hands up and down his chest, pouting in a way that made him want to throw her down and rip that ridiculous strap of cloth off her body.
She gulped, looking up at him through those damn eyelashes.
'You know Ani…' her fingers were gently stroking his chest, just above his pounding heart, as her gaze darted between his eyes and his parted lips. 'We don't have to do everything. We could just… you know… do stuff?'
He gulped.
'And you stop whenever you need to?'
He tried to form a sentence but his brain had turned into mush. Convenient.
'I…um..L-like what?'
Like what?! Why was he 14! What was he expecting her to say? Second base, below the shirt, above the bra?
She laughed, clearly finding it as silly as he did.
'I don't know Ani!' the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. 'What about we pledge to keep tonight PG-13. Kissing only. And you can bail whenever you want.'
'God Pad, you don't need to put it like that! I'm not your Prom Date who's afraid of losing their virginity!'
'Well Ani, I just want to create a safe space for you!' she said through giggles.
Anakin had already wound his hands into her hair, gently stroking her beautiful face with his flesh thumb. How could someone be so perfect? He almost wanted to throw caution to the wind and pin her down right there and then…
No. Think of Obi Wan.
Kissing her would have to do. I'm doing this for you Master. (Ew, horrid image.)
Anakin leant in and slowly brushed Padme's full lips with his, marvelling at the way she trembled in response to his chaste touch.
He pulled back.
'That's all you're getting tonight Angel.'
Her mouth was agape with shock until she clocked his struggle to gain control of his own giggles. She batted him with her arm as he fell about laughing, pulling her into his arms.
'Oh my God Pad, you want me so much!'
'Oh get over yourself!' she said, wriggling out of his grasp out of principle.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'he sat back up, letting her wind her slender arms around his neck and play with his hair.
He gulped. His dreams may have become a nightly occurrence, but he still couldn't fathom that someone so beautiful existed. He studied all of her features; her deep brown eyes, the dusting of freckles across her nose, her flushed lips, and found each of them perfect.
He leant in and kissed her. But this time he wasn't pulling away.
He could feel her mouth open to deepen the kiss. He responded, stroking her tongue gently with his as he lay her down on the day bed.
He could feel her tremble under him as they kissed slowly, taking the time to feel each other, to explore each other. Her hands ran down his back as he pulled her body closer underneath him, stroking down her sides with the fingertips of his metal hand and making her shiver. He panted, his breath mingling with hers as she arched her back into him. Her lips began to make a trail across his cheek, along his jaw, leaving a trail of fire in her wake. Anakin gasped as she ran her hands down the toned muscles of his back, their lips joining again in a scorching kiss.
Ok. This was pointless. He was rock hard. This was not the plan. He wanted to keep composure, not be entwined with the woman he loved, feeling her body grind against his, their breath mingling.
'Pad?' he whispered, panting as he ran his hands across the exposed skin of her back.
'Yeah Ani?' her brown eyes were wide with lust, her mouth swollen with his kisses. He had done this to her! That thought caused another rush of blood straight to his dick. Excellent. Just what he needed.
Ah well. It was a lost cause anyway. Looking at her, lying beneath him, trembling from his touch, her red silk top rubbing against her visibly hard nipples, almost forgot why they weren't supposed to be having sex in the first place. Something about a tent?
'Pad, do you want to fuck?'
Crude way to put it, Ani.
She didn't seem to mind. She didn't respond, just sat up from beneath him and slowly untied the ribbon holding her top together. Free from their tight confines, her breast bounced slightly, still concealed beneath the thin layer of silk. Tantalizingly slowly, keeping his gaze, she removed first one shoulder, then another, until, when he thought he was about to burst, she revealed her breasts to him. Sitting there, still panting, her pert breasts rising and falling in time with her breath as she gazed at him with her red lips parted. She was a vision. Anakin could probably get himself off in about ten seconds just watching her. And she wasn't done yet. She stood up from the day bed, turning away from him, and bending over, pulled the waist of her silk pants down over her ass, letting them pool on the floor. He gulped. She wasn't wearing underwear.
She turned back to him, completely naked, and simply smiled.
He had never moved so fast in his life. His boots, tunic, sabre belt were tossed aside faster that you could say PG-13.
Padme giggled.
'Don't laugh at me while I'm naked Pad!' He feigned shock.
She raised an eyebrow, and walked over to him, moulding her body to his and pulling his chin down for another scorching kiss.
'Come with me' she whispered, leading him back to the bed and sitting him down.
'I'm going to make you forget your name Ani' she said wickedly, positioning herself between his legs and taking his dick in her hand.
Anakin gulped as Padme slowly traced her tongue around the tip, causing it to bounce up slightly. She giggled.
'Sorry my love. No laughter.'
Before he had a chance to chime in, she silenced him by wrapping her lips around the entire head. The warm wet feeling of her mouth, licking up and down the sensitive underside of his dick as her hands worked their magic on the base, was otherworldly. He gasped as she took even more of him in her mouth, stretching her throat. She almost had his entire length in her mouth. How!? He could barely fathom it, his head thrown back at the unbelievable pleasure her mouth was coaxing from him. As her head bobbed up and down his length, her tongue licking the underside, her hands playing with his balls, he suddenly realised he wasn't supposed to cum.
Fuck!
One more minute and it would have been game over.
'Padme.. wait.. stop.' He held her shoulders, ending her blissful torture.
She looked up at him with those big brown eyes. 'What's wrong Ani? Was that not good for you?'
He almost wanted to roll his eyes. She must know how amazing she was. The moans he had tried and failed to conceal must have given something away.
'It was incredible Pad.' He pulled her up. 'We just aren't done here.'
Fuck it. If he was going to fail at his celibacy, he might as well do it in style.
He lay back on the day bed as Padme climbed on top of him. She gazed at him, and for a moment, the love they shared poured out of her shining eyes. He felt it wash over him through The Force. Suddenly he realised- this was why this was happening. That was what The Dreams meant.
She wanted him.
She loved him.
He barely had time to revel in elation before the feeling of her sinking onto his dick overwhelmed him. She began to ride him, slowly at first, squeezing him with her inner walls every time she sunk down, causing him to close his eyes when he thought he would pass out with pleasure. As she picked up the pace, he tentatively opened them, just a crack, to see the awesome sight of this unreal woman riding him, her breasts bouncing and her hair flying wildly behind her. Her mouth was letting out the sweetest moans as she rode him, brushing her clit against the toned muscles of his stomach. Anakin could barely take it. He moaned her name like a prayer, sitting up to take her nipple in his mouth.
He picked her up by the slim waist, turning them around while still inside her so he could lie her down and pound into her. He stroked up her legs, linking them behind his head. She gasped, shocked by how good this new deeper angle felt. He sunk even further into her, using his metal hand to draw circles on her clit as they both struggled to keep composure. When Padme reached out and sucked on one of his fingers, he decided to stop trying. They came together, riding out the earth-shattering orgasm as they collapsed in each other's arms.
Anakin sat up, startled. He looked down to see a hot, sticky mess all over his regulation sheets. Oh Jesus. Panicking, he looked around the tent. It was still dark. Ahsoka was curled in a ball, her face twitching periodically as thoughts crossed like unwanted guests. Obi Wan was loudly snoring, his sabre-belt still clutched to his chest.
He had gotten away with it. They would never know.
Anakin wanted to scream with joy. He had got to mentally fuck the woman he loved AND avoid the shame of his colleagues realising he had wet dreams as a man in his twenties. He got up, balled up his incriminating sheets, and went to take a shower. He wasn't risking it again. This was his one free pass- tomorrow he would sleep outside on a nice anonymous pile of twigs.
Ahsoka's eyelids flickered open as her Master left the tent. Phew. He hadn't noticed she was awake. He would never have to know she had been woken by his loud cries, one name falling off his tongue all night long.
Padme.
Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story, and please drop me a review if you can!
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