A/N: Oh Padme, you never really stood a chance. *insert really terrible Game of Thrones pun about "when you play the game of thrones, you win or you die"*

...

I really don't know what goes on in my mind sometimes.

Enjoy xx

If she'd known that Anakin wouldn't play fair, Padme might not have agreed to a challenge with him as her opponent. He was annoying aloof for most of the evening, yet his little teasing smirks and sultry glances were enough to turn her into a puddle of wanton desire. Even though her entire body protested, she was stubborn, and determined to outlast him.

They ran into each other on their way downstairs, but he didn't even look at her, his expression stony as he stared straight ahead. It made her want to yell at him, slap him, and then pull him down to her mouth, but she did neither of those things. Instead, to adopted his determined stance, and refused to look at him, either. Their fingers brushed together as they walked and she jerked her arm away, sneaking a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. It was as though nothing had happened, his expression hadn't changed. That only made her frown. Surely, she wasn't the only one affected by his touch? Surely, her touch elicited the same intense emotions as when his fingers brushed her skin? It wasn't fair. He was good. Too good. Padme wasn't pleased.

Once they were downstairs in the dining room, however, the pair of them smartened their act up, at least, they tried. In any case, Ruwee didn't seem to notice the lover's spat between his daughter and her boyfriend.

"Did you want something to drink?" he asked them kindly.

Padme nodded and smiled. "The usual, please dad."

"Anakin? I have beer, scotch, rum, champagne if that takes your fancy?"

Anakin smirked at the suggestion. "Scotch is fine, sir," and he nodded his head. Padme was shocked at his formality, the constant addresses of sir to her father. It was… very attractive. Possibly because Anakin was rarely ever serious like this and it was a welcoming change, not that she didn't enjoy his teasing, light-heartedness. It was just different. And she found she liked it. She liked it a lot.

It was then she realised that she had been staring at him, lips parted and pulled up into a fond smile, because he caught her eye, lids hooded and she watched, transfixed, as the tip of his tongue snuck out and ran over the tip of his canine. She wet her own lips in response, because it was just so hot and she felt her cheeks flush with heat. Swallowing awkwardly, she averted her eyes, trying to keep her emotions under control. Damn you, Anakin, she cursed inwardly. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Her father returned, drinks in hand, and Padme took a sip eagerly, letting the bitterness occupy her thoughts and keep her distracted. Because that was exactly what Anakin was. A distraction. A sexy fucking distraction and she couldn't let herself get affected by his obvious intentions.

They sat at the table as dinner was served, a pheasant pie, which made Padme think her father had actually caught the bird that was used, served with roast vegetables and creamy mashed potato and she felt her stomach growl at the sight. The cooks were excellent, and she was reminded of many a time when she was a child, staying with her grandparents and getting over fed, because her grandmother had insisted that her and Sola needed fattening up. It was clear that Anakin was impressed at the sight, as well, for he dug in eagerly, a delighted smile on his face.

"So, Anakin," Ruwee began and Padme sighed, she had been waiting for the interrogation to begin. "You study at the University of Chicago, is that right?"

He nodded, swallowing a mouthful of mash potato, before continuing. "Yes, sir."

"What's your major?"

"Mechanical engineering," he replied, "sir," and Padme stifled a laugh into her drink at his little addition of sir. It was endearing.

Ruwee seemed impressed by that, nodding his head slowly, a smile breaking out onto his face. Padme was glad. She was so proud of Anakin and she wanted her father to be proud of him too, to respect him and admire him as much as she did.

"Ani's quite exceptional," she informed her father, heart swelling with pride. "He's an expert when it comes to engines and machinery. He can fix almost anything."

Anakin's hand found its way onto her thigh and he squeezed it gently, letting her know that he appreciated her praise. The action was meant to be sweet, and yet there was an underlying sensuality to it, as his fingers slid up and down her thigh, slowly creeping higher and higher and she exhaled sharply in an effort to compose herself.

"That's rather impressive," Ruwee praised him.

Anakin shook his head, "I worked for a few years as a mechanic, sir," all humble and modest, which, again, was so different compared to the arrogance and self-assurance that she was used to. "I like working with my hands."

At his words, his fingers ran over the zipper of Padme's jeans and down further, over the top of where her clit would be and she held in a gasp, kicking his shin in response because there was no way he was doing this right now, with her father sitting across from them. He was not playing fair. She shifted her eyes over to him, narrowing her gaze, letting him know that she was not impressed, but all he did was remove his hand, returning it to the flesh of her thigh. The absolute nerve of Anakin Skywalker.

"Stop it," she hissed under her breath, hitting his hand away from her.

The mischievous glint in his eyes told her that he wasn't anywhere near done, and she would have to put up with this torment until she gave in. Which she wouldn't. No way.

If Ruwee noticed anything, he didn't show it, and simply continued directing the conversation towards Anakin. "Do you have any plans for after you graduate?"

As if he'd memorised a speech, Anakin replied, "I would like to work on military aircraft. I've had a fascination with airplanes ever since I was a kid. It's a bit of a dream of mine, I guess." No matter how annoyed Padme was at him, she couldn't deny how adorable he was at that moment, his eyes light, expression glowing as he talked about his passions.

"That's good," Ruwee encouraged. "It's always good to have something to aspire to." He was impressed. Padme could tell. He was wearing the same expression he had when he'd found out Clovis was studying law. Her heart did a little skip in her chest and she felt utterly relieved. Her father was warming to Anakin. That was all she had wanted.

"So, how did you two meet, then?"

Padme decided to answer this one and give Anakin a break from talking. "Anakin lives next door to mom. We've known each other for a while."

Anakin's hand returned to her thigh once more and he grinned. "Took her a while to warm up to me, though," he smirked, flashing her a teasing smile. On the surface it was light-hearted, but there was that dark, dangerous look in his beautiful eyes that caused her to melt into a puddle and her insides turn to mush. It was this, more than his touch that could fracture her resolve.

He excused himself to go to the bathroom and Padme almost sighed in relief. The tension between the two of them was getting unstable; she could almost feel the heat between them and was surprised that her father remained ignorant to it all. Once he was gone, she began to fidget, eying her father to try and gauge his opinion, biting her lip and wringing her hands together.

"Of, for goodness' sake, Padme, relax" her father sighed, chuckling at her. "I like him."

That was all she needed to hear and she beamed at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yes, he's a nice young man. Well-spoken and polite, and rather bright. He reminds me a bit of Rush."

At that comment, Padme scowled, fists clenching against the wood of the table. "Don't say that," she snarled, rather aggressively, but she couldn't believe the words that had come out of her father's mouth. "Anakin is a thousand times better than Rush Clovis. How dare you compare them!"

Sighing, Ruwee shook his head. "I'm not meaning it in a bad way, sweetheart," he explained softly. "I just mean, when Rush first came here, he was well-mannered and kept calling me 'sir' and well, it's just nice to see Anakin doing the same. It means he was brought up well." And then, in an attempt to assuage her, as she was still quite angry, he added, "he clearly cares an awful lot about you."

Padme nodded, "he loves me." Saying those words seemed to make her a little emotional and she sniffed, feeling tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. "And I love him. He's so good to me, dad, he's so... wonderful."

Ruwee smiled fondly, and Padme swore she could see his glasses fogging up and tears in his eyes. "I'm glad," he said, honestly, his voice thick and slightly broken and she realised he was just as emotional as she was. "I'm so glad to see you happy, sweetheart."

Before she could reply, Anakin returned and resumed his gentle caress of her thigh under the table, but she didn't try to fight it this time. It was useless, really, and if she was being honest, she kind of liked it. It was sweet and sensual at the same time, which aptly described their relationship.

After dinner came dessert, a generous serving of apple crumble and custard, which Anakin wolfed down as though he hadn't just eaten an enormous slice of pie, and then Padme bid her father goodnight. Anakin followed her upstairs and stopped outside her bedroom, giving her a knowing glance. She crossed her arms and frowned at him.

"I can't believe you did that," she scolded him.

"Did what?" he feigned ignorance, though the teasing smirk that pulled at his lips confessed that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

Huffing, she deepened her scowl. "Don't play coy with me, Anakin. I can't believe you would do that… touch me like that, when my father is right across from you! And he thinks you're well-mannered?" she scoffed, a little rudely, but she felt it was only right for her to put him in his place.

Anakin simply shrugged. "He didn't know. Besides, it's not as though you didn't enjoy it."

She gasped and took a step back. "If you're arrogant enough to think that I – "

He stepped closer to her, towering over her, his body inches from hers and she could feel the heat radiating from his skin, drawing her closer like moth to flame. " – I could feel you," he interrupted, voice soft so that it didn't carry downstairs. "I could feel how hot you were underneath your jeans. You want me."

Padme was appalled that he would say such things to her, that he was bold enough, but then, that was Anakin. He was bold, and unpredictable and that was what she loved about him. She shook her head stubbornly. "No, I don't," she insisted, but she could already feel her body reacting to his presence, so close to her that she could almost touch him.

"Yes, you do. You want me right now. I can tell," he grinned at her, all smug and arrogant. "You're biting your lip."

It was true. She hadn't even noticed. Again, she internally cursed her body for betraying her so. "That doesn't mean anything." It did. It spoke volumes. "I'm going to bed."

She went to turn, when he gripped her arms, pulled her body flush against him and bent low, so his lips ghosted over the shell of her ear. He wasn't touching her, but she could swear she could feel him and it made her shudder in spite of herself. "It's a cold night, Padme," he murmured, voice all low and gravelly and sexy. "I could keep you warm. If you like."

Her face flushed and she swallowed, forcing herself to step away from him. She was not going to give in to his advances. She was better than this. "Goodnight, Anakin," she snapped firmly, turning on her heels and entering her bedroom, slamming her door shut. She could hear his laughter outside the door.

She stripped out of her clothes, all flustered and hot and bothered, and she muttered strings of curses under her breath. Damn you, Anakin. He was almost cruel, really, in his teasing. He knew how to push every single one of her buttons, not gently, but with a sledgehammer, breaking her guard down and turning her into this wanton, lust-fuelled woman. She tried to take her mind off him, to think of something else, anything else, but she couldn't. Only one thought was clear in her mind. Anakin.

She could hear the water running from the bathroom next door as Anakin took a shower and suddenly, her thoughts were consumed by images of his glorious body, naked and dripping wet as rivets of water cascaded down his broad shoulders, his chiselled abdomen, his long athletic legs and she bit her lip in anticipation. Her thighs rubbed together instinctively, craving friction and she let her hand wander down underneath her underwear. It surprised her how wet she was, already, just at the mere thought of him, and when she ran a finger experimentally over her throbbing clit, she felt bolts of pleasure shoot up her spine and she arched her back unconsciously. She needed him. She needed him so, so badly, and regardless of the stupid game they had going on, she couldn't deny her need for him any longer.

Reaching over, she grabbed her phone and aggressively typed the message; I need you. Now.

It was two minutes and thirty-seven seconds – not that Padme was counting – before Anakin appeared at her door, leaning against the door frame, his hair wet, his face smug and she actually whined.

"Well, well, well," he teased, annoyingly victorious, but all Padme could concentrate on was how his skin was shining delectably from the shower, as though he hadn't dried himself properly in a hurry to get to her. "Look who caved. And it wasn't even a day."

She growled, crawling to the edge of her bed and as he approached her, she gripped his shirt roughly, pulling him against her to aggressively mash her lips against his. He laughed into her mouth, but she was in no mood for his teasing. She was so, so, desperate for him, so embarrassingly needy and she needed release. Now.

"Shut up," she hissed into his mouth, her teeth scraping along his lips as she pulled him down on top of her. "Shut up and take my clothes off."

Anakin grinned in compliance, pushing her back amongst the pillows and, never breaking the kiss, began to unbutton her flannelette pyjama shirt with deft fingers. Whilst he occupied himself, Padme tugged up his long-sleeved shirt, stopping the kiss just enough to yank it over his head, before crushing her mouth back against his. She was needy. She was possessive. But she didn't care because he felt so good and he tasted so good and it was exactly what she needed.

"You know," he muttered as he tore her shirt away from her, exposing her naked chest to him. "I could be really cruel and just leave."

She bit his lip harshly, feeling the taste of his blood on her tongue. "Don't you dare, Anakin Skywalker," she growled. "Don't be a bad sport. Come and oh – " she broke away breathily when he pulled her pyjama pants off her and rubbed her through her underwear, " – claim your victory."

He grinned above her, so fucking smug that she wanted to slap that grin off his face, or, she would have if she wasn't so pent up with lust. He tugged her underwear down and threw them over his shoulder unceremoniously, smirking, all sexy above her and she bit her lip in anticipation. "It would be my pleasure."

Anakin swiped a finger along her wetness, gathering her arousal and, in an act of pure eroticism, brought it up to his mouth making Padme whimper. "Fuck, angel," he moaned, eyes dark. "You're so fucking wet." His hand returned to her throbbing sex and she undulated her hips into his hot touch. "What were you thinking about to get you this wet, huh?"

"You, Ani, always you – " her voice became a strangled gasp when he flicked her swollen clit. Bolts of pleasure shot straight up her spine, painful and wonderful, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Then, without waiting for her to recover, he plunged two fingers inside her and she cried out at the sudden, but deliciously pleasant, intrusion. It wasn't enough, though. It wasn't nearly enough. She needed more. She needed – "don't… tease me…" she begged him. "I need… I-I need to – "

Anakin just quirked an eyebrow. "Say it," he whispered, low and husky, dragging his teeth across her ear causing her to shudder. "Say it."

Padme knew what he wanted her to say, but she shook her head, flushing with embarrassment, because she'd never talked like that before. "I-I can't," she almost wailed when he curled his fingers inside her.

"Yes you can, angel," he encouraged with a delicate kiss to the base of her jaw. "Tell me. Tell me what you need. I'll give it to you." He sucked gently at the hollow of her throat, as if reiterating his promise. "Just tell me." His voice was strained, and she knew he was just as aroused as she felt. The firm bulge of his erection was pressed against her thigh as he worked her with his fingers, coaxing her to do as he asked. And then, he stopped. Left her tittering on the edge of oblivion and she mewled, rutting up against his hand, begging him to continue. "Say it," he repeated again, more forcefully than before, nipping her skin.

"Ani," she sobbed, desperate for release. "I n-need to… come."

That seemed to be what Anakin was waiting for, because he moaned, "yes", and kissed her hard, resuming his ministrations, his tongue moving in tandem to the pumping of his fingers inside her wet, welcoming sex. All it took was a hard press of his thumb against her clit and she fell apart, seeing stars behind her closed lids, crying into his mouth, her entire upper body lifting off the bed with the power of her climax. With a great shudder, she slumped back down amongst the pillows, her eyes half-closed and cloudy with satisfaction. That was it. That was what she needed. A lazy grin on her face, she stroked Anakin's hair, praising him, thanking him, as he removed his fingers from inside her.

"There you go, angel," he said tenderly. "I told you I'd give you what you want."

She nodded her head, not really concentrating as she came down from her high. "And what do you want, Ani?" she asked, still seeing stars but she felt as though he deserved a reward for his brilliant work. He was the victor, after all. He had earned it.

He didn't reply, but simply kissed her until her lips were swollen and sore. When he pulled away, his eyes were so dark they were almost black with lust as he stared at her intently, pupils dilated. "I want to be inside you."

The way he was so bold in his demands turned Padme on more than anything else and she trembled, biting her lip, never once looking away from his intense gaze. "I'm yours," she whispered, widening her legs underneath him in offering but he shook his head.

Rocking back onto his knees, he nodded, eyes hooded with desire. "I'll be right back."

While he was gone, she decided to be bold, and draped herself as seductively as she could manage on her side, letting her arm fall over her waist and propped herself up on her elbow. It was a little daunting, lying there, naked, in her father's house, but she couldn't help but thrill at the thought of it. It excited her. Ani, what have you turned me into?

A part of her was ashamed that she had caved so easily. It was embarrassing to think that she couldn't even last a few hours in Anakin's presence without turning into a wanton pool of arousal, but her desire for him was something she couldn't quite explain. It was intense and almost frightening in its power and yet she gave into it willingly, embraced it fully and completely because it was so, so good every time.

Anakin returned after a few moments, though it was longer than she had expected. He kicked off his pants as soon as he closed the door and his cock twitched at the sight of her as he rolled a condom over his length. The action made Padme wet her lips in anticipation. She couldn't deny the effect of his naked form; he was almost god-like in his perfection, dripping with raw masculinity and she eyed him shamelessly, drinking in the glorious, tanned skin and long, lean muscle.

"God, you're so fucking gorgeous," he growled, stalking towards her with predatory intent and she shivered, ever the victim of his possessive stare. Crawling over her, he kissed her deeply before sliding down beside her, pressing his chest against the curve of her back.

"What took you so long?" Padme asked as she turned her head to look at him, shuffling back against his warm skin.

He cupped a breast with one hand and sighed into her hair. "I ran into your dad."

Padme paled, stiffening. "Oh no…" She felt him chuckle against her and frowned. How could Anakin possibly find that funny? Did he actually take nothing seriously? "What… what happened? Did he – ?" If he knew, if he had heard them before? She felt sick at the thought.

"Relax, Padme," Anakin shushed her, letting his fingers gently caress her nipple before trailing lower, circling her navel in an almost calming way and she softened, letting her head rest back upon his shoulders. "I told him I just went to tell you goodnight. Waited 'til he was in his room before I came back out."

"He didn't hear us before, did he?" she dared to ask, thinking she could never look her father in the eye again if he had.

"No," Anakin assured her, running his nose along her neck. "He was downstairs."

Biting her lip, Padme closed her eyes, inhaling sharply. It felt wrong, to lie to her father, after he was being so good to her. She felt incredibly guilty, but the feeling of Anakin hardening against her backside made it difficult to concentrate on much else. "Ani, we… we shouldn't," she began, her voice trailing off at the feel of his wet lips sliding down the back of her throat.

"I know," he breathed on her skin and his lingering fingers found her clit and she trembled uncontrollably. "But that makes it more exciting, don't you think."

He shifted his knee between her legs and she felt his hardness press against her soaking folds and she whimpered at the contact, desperately craving him even though she knew she shouldn't. Not here, especially not here. "We shouldn't," she protested again but her attempts were pathetic because Anakin was sucking on her sweet spot and his fingers were rubbing her gently and her thoughts clouded over and she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe.

Anakin paid her no mind, continuing to feast upon her neck with ravenous hunger. "I want you like this," he whispered and his rough voice made her squirm against him. "Will you let me?"

The sensations were driving Padme mad. Anakin was everywhere. "Please, Ani, please," she heard the words fall from her lips in a desperate plea, as though she was no longer in control of her speech.

His hand came up to cover her mouth. "We have to be quiet. Can you do that, angel?" In response, she nodded her head and pressed a kiss to his palm, her eyes half-closed with her wanton lust for him. Then, his lips were at her ear and he muttered, "good girl," before sliding into her, and the invasion was so exquisite that she arched her back, pressing her backside hard against his hips and bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Anakin grunted against her skin to muffle the sounds of his pleasure as he drove his hips into her harder and harder. His grip on her mouth became rougher with each thrust and she closed her eyes, pushing her hips back to meet him each time. It was different like this, he was deeper somehow, but it was the fact that they had to be silent that made it so enticing. It was exhilarating, and Padme found herself extremely aroused by that fact, even though she shouldn't.

He came first, powerfully, and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her impossibly close to him as her release followed blissfully. "I love you, Padme" he murmured into her hair. "You're all I need."

She closed her eyes, feeling warm all over, his honesty washing over her soul like the calming ocean she adored so much. Taking one of his hands in hers, she brought it to her lips, kissing each finger softly, expressing how much he meant to her in just the simplest of touches. It was these beautifully sweet moments, usually the moments they spent together post-sex, when they were far too exhausted to do anything but lie in each other's arms, that Padme enjoyed the most.

"Mmm," she sighed happily. He pressed a sweet kiss to her neck, before shifting, removing his arms from around her and she gave a small squeak in protest, blinking at him. "Where are you going?"

"You said that we should sleep in different rooms," he reminded her. "And I don't want to upset your dad either."

Padme huffed petulantly, and took hold of his arm, flinging it down across her body and wriggled her ass into the crook of his hips. The action caused her to gasp, as he was still inside her, and she clenched around him instinctively, causing him to groan. "No," she persisted, stubbornly. "Don't leave, Anakin. I – I want you to stay. I've missed you."

Anakin paused. "But what about your dad."

"Leave in the morning, before he wakes up," she told him, the thought just occurring to her. "Just… stay with me, Ani. Please."

Anakin relented, curling against her back and kissed her shoulder. "How can I ever refuse you?"

Padme hummed happily, snuggling into his warm skin, feeling more content and relaxed than she had in two weeks. This was where she belonged, with Anakin's arms around her and his lips against her skin and his scent filling her senses. It felt like home.

As she dozed, in that blissful state in between deep sleep and quiet daydreams, she felt his breath at her ear, hot and moist and then, in smug tones, Anakin whispered, "I win."

Her eyes snapped open and she groaned, turning her head to frown at him. His teasing smile was millimetres from her own and his eyes shimmered with amusement. "You're such an asshole," she told him.

Grinning wider, he winked at her. "I never said I would play fair." When she simply huffed in reply, he laughed. "Don't take it to heart, angel," he continued, finding the entire situation hilarious, much to her irritation. "It's not your fault you find me irresistible. Everyone does. It's almost not fair, really."

Padme rolled her eyes at him. That ego; it was unbelievable sometimes. But she couldn't deny the underlying truth. Where Anakin was concerned, Padme was weak, and as much as she hated to admit, she couldn't refuse him. "Shut up," she told him, because that was the best she could come up with without actually admitting he was right.

It only served to make Anakin even more smug. "That just proves my point."

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" she sighed, but her lips curled into a smirk all the same, without her authority.

And then Anakin kissed her, lightly, teasing, just a soft brush of his lips against hers, but it was enough for her to stretch her neck, chasing the kiss. "Never."

Padme fell asleep in Anakin's arms, a dopey smile on her face.