Flying Solo
by CorellianBlue
(first published 2020)
Warnings: language; sexual content
-2-
Without question, thought or further comment, Han followed the princess, his pulse ratcheting up with every step, every smirking glance from her. She remained mysteriously silent.
Leia led him into their cabin and sealed the hatch behind them. Han pulled her up against himself, dropped his face into her neck, caressing her skin with his, inhaling the scent of her.
"God, I missed you," he growled.
Leia clutched onto his biceps, momentarily overwhelmed by his intensity.
"I haven't been far away," she softly chided, smiling at his brash admission and the sensual sweep of his cheek and jaw against her neck. "Not long."
"Too long," he told her, his voice rumbling against her skin as he nibbled, hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses into her.
She melted into his embrace, arching against him, one leg slipping between his as she reached her fingers up into his hair, stretching her neck in response to the incredible things his mouth, tongue and teeth were doing to her. The blood rush to his groin nearly sucked all conscious thought from his brain, and it was pure lust and instinct that had him walking them towards their bunk, stopping as the backs of his legs hit the edge.
Leia had other ideas, and she managed to step away from his forceful hold.
"Shh…wait, wait, wait." She placed her hands along the line of his jaw, kissed away the confused look on his face. "You promised to show me."
Han's smile was as fervent as his intent. "It's not something I can just do. I need a bit of encouragement. Motivation."
He had already decided he'd show her this skillset another time. Right now, he was eager to thrust deep inside her. It had been too long. Probably at least seven hours, even if they had been asleep for nearly six of those.
His hips jerked as she suddenly gripped him through his sweatpants, but he quickly settled and leaned into her solid touch. He loved the way she fondled him so blatantly, and she knew exactly what to do to turn him on. When she held him like this, he injudiciously thought he'd gladly let her drag him around any Rebel base by his cock, regardless of who was looking on.
"Hmm…feels like you're getting enough motivation as it is."
He gave her his best prurient leer. "You show me yours, Sweetheart, I'll show you mine."
Leia lifted her chin, accepting his challenge. "All right." She released him, nodded towards the bunk. "Get comfortable and I'll show you how it's done."
She'd caught him flat-footed—or erect-cocked. He curiously complied with her direction. "Ah…okay."
As he settled into the middle of the covers, he noticed that she had made the bunk, probably changed the sheets, which was just as well as there was only so many times the mess they made could be wiped away with a washcloth. The rest of the cabin also had a less-than-dishevelled look to it, and a fresh, disinfectant smell wafted out of the refresher.
It occurred to him that she was cleaning up his life in more ways than one. At this rate, she would make an honest man of him by the time they reached the Fleet. Hmm…big ask for anyone. Maybe not.
Leia gave him a serious, no-nonsense look. "You have to leave your clothes on until I finish. I don't want you touching yourself until I'm finished."
Fuck.
She was really talking like this to him. All his fantasies—his wet dreams—were coming true.
He shuffled backwards on his rear, towards the head of the bunk, aiming to lean against the pillows. Except she requested one from him and dropped it at the foot of the bunk.
It appeared she had thought through the mechanics of this before, because without hesitation she moved to the closet and opened the now-shut door. She pulled the neatly folded, thick woollen blanket from the closet shelf and tossed it onto the bunk.
She reached down to the closet floor and collected the small, carbon fibre security locker he never used to store his blaster in, turned and asked, "Can I use this?"
From the way she grinned at him, Han was certain his mouth was hanging open.
Shrugging, he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. "Ah, sure." He had no idea what she was doing.
Back at the bunk, she placed the locker on the covers, draped the folded blanket over it, then stacked the pillow on top of that. She paused to consider the height of her efforts, nodded, then in one smooth action, pulled the t-shirt over her head and placed that on the pillow.
It then dawned on him as he ogled her firm breasts, her erect nipples. She was going to fuck his pillow. Fuck his pillow with his t-shirt on top of it.
Han quickly performed an astro-navigation calculation in his head to stop himself from coming.
Leia slid the sleep pants from her legs and, naked, climbed up onto the bunk.
"I haven't done this for a while," she told him as she straddled the structure she had made, knees bent and pressed into the sleeping pallet.
"Ohhh?" His voice tripped along the scale from cavernously deep to squeaky high.
"Well, I haven't done it for a few weeks. And when I have done it like this, it's never been particularly successful."
"It looks fucking successful to me," he assured her, his eyes darting from the arch of her legs gripping the pillow, up to her breasts, her beautiful face, back down over the peaks of her nipples and returning to the apex of her thighs.
It was almost too much for him to take in. If the Falcon was suddenly hit by a piece of rogue space junk that wiped them out, Han would die a happy man. A fucking, deliriously ecstatic, happy man.
Leia slowly rocked her hips, a motion he was familiar with when she rode him. Seeing her from this angle, less than a metre in front as opposed to him lying underneath her and looking up, he could now imagine exactly what she looked like perched on top of him, fucking him.
This woman—his Leia—was a sex goddess; he, her mere mortal sex slave. She could do whatever she fucking liked to him. He vowed to keep himself rock hard and ready for whenever she commanded him to perform to satisfy her desires.
The thrusting, grinding motion of Leia's hips had increased, and Han was doing everything in his power to stop from gripping himself and jerking along in rhythm with her.
Not yet, he scolded himself. Too soon. Too soon.
He straightened his arms, pushing his hands down into the mattress, clutching his fingers into the covers, resolved to behaving himself, as Leia had instructed.
Her necked bobbed, stretched; she appeared to be gaining some pleasure if the mellow look on her face was any indication.
"I first did this when I joined the Senate on Coruscant," she told him, riding the pillow. "I was 17 and suddenly dealing with these confusing emotions and arousals for a boy I was interested in."
Of course, she did, was Han's instinctive reaction. It sounded exactly like something Leia would experiment with.
Like most teenage boys, Han had been experimenting with himself long before he'd turned 17. Not long after what he'd estimated to be his 16th birthday, a year before Leia had even become aware of her blossoming sexuality, he'd lost his virginity. He'd effectively being pimped out to a 30-something woman—at her request—by the crime syndicate he'd been indentured to. It had been an at first daunting, and then whirlwind week-long introduction to the pleasures of sex for him. He would be forever grateful to that shady businesswoman for being a generous and at times demanding teacher.
"My trouble," Leia explained, "is I've never been able to climax just doing this. It frustrated me for years, but I didn't know any better. Not even thinking about you helped. That is until–"
"Stop," Han interjected, blinking furiously.
Her hadn't meant for her to literally stop, but she ceased moving her hips.
"Reverse thrusters." He gulped deeply. "Thinking about me? When did this happen?"
"Hmm, let's see." She seemed to be counting back through dates. "Probably a year ago. Maybe a bit longer. I don't really know. I don't keep a diary of when I masturbate."
Han's brain was hurtling along at light speed.
"Explain it to me," he all but pleaded. "Ten months ago—"
"Maybe a bit longer."
He didn't know where he found the depth of character to forgive her for interrupting his desperate flight of thought, but he did.
"For over a year you've been humping your pillow and thinking about me?"
Leia gave him a smug smile that was worthy of the one he had been wearing lately. "Yes. But never climaxing. Even when I thought your name in my head."
Fuck.
He'd died and gone to spacers' heaven. Or maybe not. What had he missed out on?
"Why didn't I know about this a year ago?" he almost whined.
"Because you were an insufferable, arrogant scoundrel and I wanted nothing to do with you."
That seemed to make no sense to him. "What's changed?"
He lips twitched in affectionate amusement. "Now you're my insufferable, arrogant scoundrel, and I love fucking you."
He couldn't argue with that logic.
He went back over what she had admitted; he needed clarity, more detail. "And what did I do to make you think about me?"
"When you kept your mouth shut long enough for me to appreciate your face and your body uninterrupted, I usually then had to go and take care of myself."
Now he did whine. "Leiaaa. You're killing me here."
His erection was throbbing, struggling to break through the confines of his sweatpants.
"You want to know more?" she enticed.
"Yes." He sounded desperate because he was. "Whatever you've got."
"So, I couldn't climax until I became aware that I was going about things the wrong way. Plus, I also think I used to have a bit of a hang-up about masturbating. You know, the thought of parental interruption."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he assured her, "but please, carry on."
Leia looked at him with sultry eyes. "Do you recall a few weeks before we deployed to Hoth how you invited me to have a drink with you in the wet mess?"
He certainly did. It had been before the failed operation to Ord Mantell. He'd been trying to make his intentions towards her known. Luke had been off on a reconnaissance patrol, so Han had taken the opportunity of Leia being on her own to make his move. Compared to the Falcon, the wet mess on the base seemed a non-threatening environment and the meeting would be public.
Afterwards, Han had believed he'd totally botched things between them.
He'd impatiently waited for Leia to appear, even trying to blow off overtures from a cute female corporal who had previously suggested she'd be interested in him warming her bunk for her.
Leia had turned up an hour late, having been delayed by some task or other, and had been unsettled to find him trying to get rid of the other young woman. Despite this, they had shared a few drinks, and warm and invigorating conversation. He had declined her suggestion of a dance, as he hadn't wanted to reveal he had no idea how.
She had let him walk her back to her room in the officer accommodation wing. He'd kissed her good night on the lips, a reserved and chaste gesture by his standards that hadn't involved tongue or accompanying groping. For some reason he hadn't been able to work out at the time, nothing more had resulted from their encounter. It hadn't been until Ord Mantell that the passion between them had ignited.
Leia fluttered her fingers against her lips. "I couldn't get to sleep after you kissed me."
"That made two of us," he admitted. "I had to jerk off, then take a cold shower after that."
She regarded him with wide, charmed eyes. "Aren't you sweet."
He pressed, "What did you do?"
"Well, I set myself up like this." She motioned to herself and the seat she was perched upon. "Except on my footlocker at the end of my bed and with both of my pillows. As usual, I could only get so far before getting frustrated that it was not going to work for me."
"You should've called me on the comlink, Sweetheart," he said, waggling his fingers towards his ear. "We could've gotten to this stage a lot sooner."
She chuckled at his comment. "It suddenly occurred to me that I needed more stimulation—"
"Should've called," he said again.
"—and was wondering if there was anything I had that might help. Then I recalled that you had given me that multi-tool—"
Han had to stop himself from laughing and interrupting where she was heading with this.
"—after you complained," she eyed him intensely as she emphasised the word, "about having to come around to my quarters to repair something every week or so."
"Well, I was repairing your stuff all the ti—" His eyes widened in comprehension.
"Because I was breaking my 'stuff all the time', genius."
He felt like an idiot. "I'm a slow learner."
She grinned at him. Yes, I know."
"Multi-tool," he eagerly pressed.
"Multi-tool," she acknowledged. "Rather aptly named. Nice and cold to the touch, with a lovely, rubberised hilt and handle."
Han suspected he knew what she was going to tell him, but he wanted to hear it from her unprompted.
"I put it on the pillow, between my legs. Moved along it." She swayed her hips forward to demonstrate the motion. "Shiveringly cool. Invigorating. Except for the very thoughtful ridges on the handle. And the stimulating bulge at the hilt. And wouldn't you know it, I tripped the switch and it started vibrating."
At this point, Han realised he probably should've been embarrassed. But he wasn't. He was achingly aroused.
"Should've called," he sang. "I have a proven track record with service and repairs."
"Yes, I believe you have told me this before. And I'm still awaiting your quote."
She was, of course, referring to his offer to service her with his special toolkit. Han scribbled a hurried, mental note to follow up on that. Meanwhile, he desperately needed more details.
"Did it help?" he asked.
"Yes, it did," Leia replied, "thank you for asking. But not fully. I wasn't completely satisfied."
"You're a very discerning woman."
She arched an eyebrow at him and continued. "I had this idea of lying down on my bed and inserting your multi-tool inside me while visions of you danced in my head."
Oh gods. She was trying to kill him! "And did you?"
She looked rather pleased with herself. "I did."
Han hoped he wasn't drooling. "And you realised it wasn't a—well, not only a multi-tool...when?"
"When it took control and started twisting, vibrating and pumping inside me on its own volition, and then massaging my clitoris."
What he wouldn't have given to see that.
"AI," he explained straightforwardly. "It was working out what you liked."
"A lot like you then."
"Smaller than me," he protested. "At the time, I didn't know what you'd enjoy. Now I know you're just greedy."
Leia reached a hand to tug at his socked foot. "Baby, I'd rather have the real thing any day."
Han shook his head ruefully. "I'm glad I was able to help you out there, Princess. At least one of us was satisfied that night."
"Not completely then," she continued with her explanation. "I only fully climaxed when I went back to my pillow and rode your multi-tool as if it was your cock."
Han was almost panting he so badly needed the answer to his next question. "Did you think of me?"
Leia's response was both loving and erotic. "That night, I said your name out loud for the first time. Came straight away."
Oh…fuck…
Han straightened his arms to keep himself from toppling over completely. He hated to think what the inside of his sweatpants looked like.
"After that, well...me and your little multi-tool became quite good friends."
"Where is it now?" he wanted to know.
Leia frowned at him incredulously. "I didn't exactly have it on me in the Command Centre, Han."
"Why not? That was a present from me."
She shook her head and shrugged. "I imagine it's with the Fleet, assuming my belongings made it onto the transport. Otherwise, the Imperials might be rather surprised if they've found it vibrating somewhere under all that snow."
That seemed like another damn good reason to make it back to the Fleet and stay with the Rebellion. Han needed to get his hands on that multi-tool and try it out on Leia.
Han briefly closed his eyes. He was a glutton for punishment, but he had no self-control when it came to this woman.
"Have you used any other props?" The pitch of his voice was climbing upwards again.
Leia shook her head. Then stopped. "I've been thinking…"
She suddenly scrambled off the bunk and headed towards the desk. She removed the blaster from his holster and placed it down. She stopped again, checking to see he was watching her, before sashaying back to the bunk with the gun-rig draped across her shoulder.
Han gulped deeply. Oh…fuck…
She arranged the gun-rig on the top of the pillow, placing it so the leather strap attaching the holster pouch to the belt had prime position.
Leia caressed the leather. "I've always been slightly envious of the way your gun-rig gets to ride your thigh all day. Though, that's a bit like me now, wouldn't you say?"
Fuck, yes.
He'd say anything she wanted him to say. Except right now, he was lost for words. Too much blood was currently pooling in his groin for him to be able to think, let alone speak.
She straddled her seat again, widening her legs around the pillow, then, holding his gaze, lowered herself down onto the strapping. She ground herself against the leather, slow, circling movements of her hips that left him mesmerised, aching, throbbing.
He nearly came undone when she closed her eyes and softly moaned.
Her gaze and smile gradually returned to his.
"Now when you wear this," she said, "you can think about me."
He didn't need for her to have done this for him to think about her, but he greatly appreciated the effort she had gone to.
Leia rose slightly, slid the holster out from between her legs and passed it to him. He took the gun-rig in both hands, staring at it as if it was prized artefact, more treasured than any glitzy Medal of Bravery she had presented to him on Yavin IV.
"You haven't come?" His remark was more questioning wonder, just in case he had missed something.
"I told you this never works properly for me," she reminded him. "Besides, you'll make it up for me. You always do." She shifted off her seat. "I'll be back in a moment."
Leia hopped down onto the deck and headed into the 'fresher. She returned with a damp washcloth and to find him holding the leather up to his nose.
"You've got it bad for me, haven't you?" she cheekily asked.
Bad? He would die for this woman. She'd already killed him numerous times over the last few days.
"You have no idea," he solemnly replied.
She moved to wiped down the leather with the cloth, but he pulled the gun-rig away from her.
"Na-uh. You can leave it the way it is," he insisted. "I'm more than fine with it. I love it."
After all she had brazenly done to destroy him, she smiled at him demurely. "Okay, your turn."
Han didn't need to be told twice. He dropped the gun-rig onto the bunk beside him and yanked down his sweatpants. His swollen erection jutted out from his groin, the head glistening in the light from the glow panels.
"Now that's what the right sort of motivation can do for you," Leia remarked, climbing back onto the bunk next to him.
He hurriedly stripped the t-shirt over his shoulders, and it landed somewhere behind him.
He was reaching over towards the bunkside niche when Leia tapped his foot.
"Socks?" she asked.
He looked mildly affronted. "Why? They don't get in the way."
"You're going to masturbate in front of me, with your socks on?"
He made a So? gesture with his hands, then relented and pulled them off as well.
"Better?" he asked.
"Much," she agreed. "I love to see all of you. Even your hairy toes."
Han adjusted the length of his legs down the sleeping pallet as he grabbed the tube of personal lubricant.
"And what's gotten you to this point?" Leia asked.
His response was swift. "You."
"Apart from me. What specifically have I done to make you want to…?"
When she didn't finish her sentence, he helpfully added, "Jerk off. Wank. Stroke the yoke."
"You sound like a teenage boy."
He shrugged. "You wanted to know."
She was watching him expectantly, desire mixed with anticipation. He couldn't believe any of this was going to happen; any of what had already happened to him. There was no way he could've imagined when he pulled her out from the Command Centre on Hoth that this was where they'd end up.
Leia elaborated, "Have we had an argument? A minor disagreement?"
He almost glowered at her. "I never got hard when we fought, Leia. What kinda misogynist asshole do you think I am?"
She looked at him contritely, caressed his thigh to apologise. "Sorry."
"'S'right." He took a deep breath to centre his thoughts, or what remained of his reasoning processes. "All you had to do was look at me a certain way. Accidentally brush against me. Ask me how I was. That was enough. It was always enough."
He squeezed the lubricating gel into his left hand.
"How much gel do you use?" she asked.
"Trial and error," he honestly told her. "Use too much, and you lose the friction. Once or twice that's happened to me, and I've sat here jerking away for what feels like hours, nearly exhausting myself and just not able to finish the job."
She grinned at him. "You should've called me, Sweetheart."
"Don't you start."
He gently wrapped his hand around himself. He closed his eyes as he felt himself throb at the intimate touch and stopped, aiming to stave off the climax he could feel sneaking up around the corner. After making out with Leia in the main hold, and then watching her pleasure herself, he was about ready to explode.
But she had asked to see him do this, so he was going to take things as deliberately as he could. And hopefully finish off the job inside her because that was what he enjoyed the most. That was the real thing.
He focused on her face as he stroked his hand up the length of himself, took a breath and stopped again. He didn't know what was more intoxicating; watching his hand slide up his erection, or the captivated look on her face.
She nodded at the way he held himself. "Is that why you bend to the left? Because you use your left hand."
He chuckled at her observation. "That's a curve, Sweetheart, not a bend. mauz fruit are bent. And, no, that's just me. A lotta men curve slightly to either side. It's how you use it that counts. As you would know."
He raised his hand slowly up the length of his erection, bumped his fist against the ridge and slid it back down towards his groin. He did it twice more, watching the fascinated look on her face.
"And why do use you use your left hand?"
He wasn't entirely sure, because he was right-handed, so he said the only thing he could think of. "Cos, I shoot with my right. Gotta be prepared at all times."
Leia smirked. "Hmm...that's an image I'm not sure how to deal with."
Han decided to build on the imagery to see how far he could push her. "You should see the accuracy of my target practice when I do this," he suggested with a lascivious wink.
She encouraged him, "I trust you're not too quick on the draw."
"This is different," he promised her. "I'll always take my time with you. Or as long as you want me to take."
He picked up the pace, aiming to show her what he did, but with no intention of coming. Not like this. Not with her sitting next to him and without having quenched her desires. He'd vowed to be her sex slave. He wouldn't let her go unfinished.
Leia unexpectedly straddled his shin, just below his knee, and his stomach tightened. A rush spiralled down from his throat toward his groin and back up again. He came to a crashing, jerking halt, his fist jammed firmly up against the ridge, the head of his cock tingling. He gasped, fighting back the undeniable urge for completion.
"Did I do that?" she asked with mock-innocence.
He tried in vain to form a coherent sentence—a coherent thought—but he was too concerned with fighting what appeared to be a losing battle.
He had no idea what he was doing as he compliantly allowed her to unclench his hand from himself and she took over.
"Is this what got you hard, Han," she asked. "Imagining me doing this to you?"
She slowly slid her hand up him, then down.
Fuck, yes.
This was exactly the fantasy that had kept him going for two years. In his sex-starved, sex-craved mind, he and Leia had spent many pleasurable hours together, doing just this.
Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
"Aah…ahh..." The pleasure/pain was almost unbearable.
He leaned back, dropped to his elbows. Her hand was a hot brand on his chest as she pushed him back further until he was lying at an angle on the bunk, head and shoulders raised on the pillow. She slid onto his thigh, nudged his legs apart with hers, knelt over him.
A coldness suddenly enveloped his cock and he realised the dampness was the washcloth Leia was wiping across him, removing the lubricant gel from his shaft.
His confusion faded, as she dropped the cloth, dragged a finger across the head of his cock, scooping up his pre-cum.
"What does this taste like," she impishly wondered, placing her finger in her mouth. "Mmm," she told him, repeating the action, "you taste like Han. Here."
She planed up across his stomach and chest, sandwiching his erection between them. Leaning into him, she reached up and smeared the fluid across his lips, slid up higher and kissed him.
Han moaned as her tongue flickered across his mouth and then speared into it, her lips stretching his, moving his, making him kiss her back. Completely at her mercy, his hips shifted up, lifting, aching for her to continue stroking him, his arms a deadweight by his sides.
…none of this was real…none of this could be real...they were all dead…smashed to pieces in the asteroid field…
Leia slid back between his legs, the friction dragging down his cock in a delicious, shivering motion. She waited for his gaze to return to hers.
"Or perhaps this is what you thought about when you were 'jerking off' in your bunk," she suggested.
She leaned towards his arousal, placed a delicate kiss on the head.
…dead...all of them…twisted scraps of durasteel…body parts drifting in the vacuum of space…
He licked his lips as his watched her, mouth opened in anticipation. She rewarded him with a warm, wet stroke of her tongue that left him quivering.
"Fu…" He couldn't even mutter his favourite obscenity.
Another lick, then she took him fully into her mouth, a hot, devouring sensation that scorched his soul. His moan was louder, anguished, his head and shoulders flopping into the pillow.
Leia continued tugging her hand up him, stroking him as she licked his length. This was not a first for him. But it may as well have been. This was Leia doing this to him. If only those condescending pricks in High Command could see her now.
Her tongue moved back up him, across the glans, mouthing the smooth head again, raking him against her teeth. Her other hand cupped him lower, massaging his testicles, as if judging their weight.
Then she started sucking.
Suck, release, suck, release.
His extremities tingled, fingers and toes numbed. This was going to be shattering when he allowed it to overwhelm him. But he was desperate for it never to end; in the back of his mind, he was almost half-afraid the dream would end, he'd wake up, alone and frustrated in his empty bunk.
There was also another reason for him not to give in just yet. He couldn't be selfish. He wanted Leia to be satisfied as well, and while she looked like she was enjoying herself, she had not yet climaxed.
Han finally found his voice. "I don't wanna come in your mouth," he pleaded.
Leia had been intermittently watching him, gauging her success by the reactions on his face and the sounds he made.
She stopped and asked, "Why not?"
"Wanna make you come," he croaked.
Her responding smile was appreciative. "Just lie back and enjoy it," she directed.
She grabbed the self-sealing tube of lubricant and squeezed the gel onto her fingers. He felt her fingers sneak along his crease of his perineum, softly caressing, exploring, determining if he would protest.
He didn't. He'd had this done to him before, but then he'd also paid good credits for it.
Her nail traced the circumference of his passage. She nudged a finger inside him. His muscles spasmed, contracting around her finger. He gasped, shocked at her boldness and the intensity. A second finger inserted, twisting, pumping gently.
Her hot, wet, succulent mouth enveloped him again, and she sucked in time to the movement of her fingers. His hips lifted off the bunk as he reached for her head, one hand in her hair, the other feeling the way her cheeks hollowed and filled as she took him as far into her mouth as she could, bumping the head of his cock against her gums, scraping his skin with her teeth.
He wanted to watch her. God knows he wanted to. But he couldn't focus. Pinpoints of light sparked across his vision. He screwed his eyes shut, surrendered himself to her.
He stopped resisting. His whole body trembled as he capitulated to the ecstasy coursing through him, pliant in her hands, succumbing to whatever she wanted to do to him.
He became incandescent. Lighting struck through him, running down his spine to his groin where exploded in bliss, pain, joy and shock at the ferocity.
His mind blanked, but there was enough instinctive compulsion for him to open his eyes and watch as Leia sucked on him.
Fuck…was the only thing he could think as she swallowed his fluid, her doe-like eyes attentive and responsive to his release.
Heart pounding, he shuddered as the endorphins surged through him and he collapsed fully onto the bunk. He was only distantly aware of Leia climbing over the top of him, until he felt her tug on his chin to open his mouth. Her tongue moved across his mouth, painting his fluid onto his lips in broad strokes, before spiking down and dribbling it across his teeth and gums, making him taste himself.
A wave of unfamiliar emotion choked deep in his throat as he returned her kiss, his lips and tongue fumbling against hers as she coaxed him into a response.
Resting her fingers along the angle of his jaw and chin, Leia finished with softer, gentler kisses to mouth, his upper lips, the sides of his nose, the scar across his chin. She snuggled into the side of his body, one leg hiked up over his hip, her hand splayed across his chest.
Chest heaving, eyelids fluttering, Han had just enough awareness to be able to drape his arm around her shoulder, pull her closer, and mash his lips against her forehead.
Do not tell her you love her now, he warned himself. She won't believe you. Just think you're saying it cos she gave you the best blow job you've ever had.
But how could he not love her after that? They had shared one of the most intimate and selfless acts he could imagine.
When he had caught his breath, he asked her, "Where the hell did you learn that?"
Leia leaned back into the curve of his shoulder and looked up at him. "I've been doing some research."
"Research?" He was incredulous. Either Leia had read up on that before she'd come onboard—revealing a side to her he'd wished he'd known about—or there was some seriously interesting shit in the Falcon's databanks that he'd never known existed. He wouldn't have put it past Calrissian to keep that sort of information on hand.
Leia's fingers twirled through a few hairs on his chest. "Your ship has been offering me advice, giving me ideas. All I did was put in a few search terms."
Han was not in the least bit surprised. "My ship is a degenerate who should be helping to get the hyperdrive working."
She leaned up on him so she could look into his eyes. Her gaze was solemn and hopeful but tinged with unease.
"If the hyperdrive was working," she told him, "then none of this—us—would be working."
He tilted his neck up so he could nudge her lips with his, putting all the love he had for her into the kiss. She was right. Damn, she was right.
They separated and he said, "I'm glad the hyperdrive is fucked."
Her smile was hesitant, her voice lightly joking. "You're just glad you're fucked."
"You really believe that?"
She shook her head. "No, I don't. I know you now. I wish I'd known you sooner."
She settled back into his embrace, and although they continued holding each other, they could no longer return meaningful stares. It became easier to find the right words.
"All things considered, I'm glad this has happened," Leia said quietly. "It's been…incredible."
"This is the best thing that has ever happened to me," Han confessed. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He decided to try his hand again, because if not now, then when. "I don't want to lose this." The tightness in his chest had moved up into his throat. "I don't want to lose you."
"You won't. We won't." She was adamant in her assertion. "I have this feeling, that whatever happens, we won't lose each other."
Han wanted to believe her, wanted so desperately to believe this would work out. He wished he had her optimism; her belief in a bright future; her sense of justice and faith in a greater good. But he'd been around long enough to know that life was seldom fair. The best he could do was hold on tight and live for the moment, like he always did.
For now, for him, that meant lightening the mood.
"What do you think Dodonna'd do if he knew you just did that to me?"
Leia poked him in the ribs. "Don't get your hopes up. I'm not ever going to be doing that to you under his nose, so he'll never know."
Han's one-hyperlane mind was racing again, plotting a new trajectory. "Ooh, that's got me thinking."
From the way she tilted her head back against his shoulder, he could tell he had her attention.
He set the scene for her. "High Command conference centre. You've finished some high-level, strategic-bullshit meeting, and you're on your own in the room, working back like you always do." There was a confident swagger to his voice. "I turn up, unannounced, like a bad credit chip."
"Like you always do," she joined in, tracing his jaw with her finger.
There was no doubt in his mind: he loved this woman.
"I seal the hatch, set the lock. Of course, you're not surprised I'm there."
"Of course not," she agreed. "We've arranged this beforehand. I've been waiting for you. That's why I've stayed behind. Why I'm pretending to work."
He could almost picture it in his mind. "I see you sitting there, looking as sexy as hell."
She sounded doubtful. "In my uniform?"
"Makes no difference to me what you wear," Han explained. "You could wear a vacuum suit and you'd still make me hard."
Leia groped a hand onto his crotch; he didn't flinch, so accustomed to her touch he'd become.
"Doesn't feel hard now," she sniggered.
He exaggerated his exasperation. "You've just finished completely destroying me. At least give me a few minutes to recover and catch my breath."
"All right," she conceded. "But only a few minutes."
He steered them back on target. "So, I'm hard before I even get up to the conference room, cos I know why you want me there."
Leia said exactly what he wanted her to say. "I want you there because I want you to fuck me. Right there on the table. Where we've just been meeting."
"Clothes off or on?"
Leia considered his question, responded, "On."
"Good. It'll be quicker to get started."
"Mm…that's right," she crooned. "You're quick on the draw."
"Better believe it, Sweetheart." He gave her a quick squeeze. "I come up behind you."
"I know you're there, but I want to see what you'll do. I'm aching, waiting to see what you'll do."
"Aching?" he asked.
"Aching," she insisted. "Always aching for you."
He mentally released a breath. He loved this woman.
"I put my hands on your shoulders, kiss you on the side of your neck."
"Only kiss?" She sounded disappointed.
He immediately amended his action, this time reaching his arm behind her head so he could stroke his fingers along the erogenous area running down from her ear. "I suck and bite the side of your neck."
"Do you leave a mark?"
"You can see where my teeth have been, and the skin is red. Probably bruise by the time we finish."
He felt her shiver further into his side as she told him, "I love it when you're a bit feral."
"If only High Command knew how feral you can be," he softly admonished.
"They will by the time we finish in the conference room."
Yes, he loved this woman.
"There's no need for us to talk," he continued. "We both know why we're here. Both know what we like, want we need. I know you like me to take my time, but not now or here."
"I want it hard and fast," Leia urged.
"I'm gonna give it to you hard and fast," Han assured her.
"I turn around in my chair because I want to see you, your face." There was tender desperation in her tone. "I need to see your face. And I want you to kiss me."
Han rolled her against the bunk, turning over the top of her until he nestled between her thighs. Her arms went around his neck, legs spreading around the sides of his torso as he hovered above. He watched the desire spike in her eyes as the firm planes of his abdomen pressed into her core.
There was heat in the kiss, tongue and teeth, and he nipped at her bottom lip as they parted. So soon after his release, and already he could feel himself hardening again, like a man ten years younger. What Leia couldn't do to him wasn't worth knowing about.
"I push you up onto the table," he rumbled, "run my hands up your thighs."
Leia looked up at him in wry amusement. "How are you going to get my trousers off?"
She had him there. "Hmm…"
Leia came up with the solution. "While you're standing there, looking at me, I pull my boots off, and slip my trousers and underwear off."
"Leave your underwear on," he growled. "I wanna pull 'em off with my teeth."
She chuckled at his request. "Okay, they're back on."
He picked up where he'd left off. "I push you up onto the table, run my hands up your thighs, and wonder why the hell you didn't take your undies off at the same time. Now I have to eat 'em off."
Leia laughed and Han seized the moment to slip further down between her legs and place his open mouth against her pubic bone. She arched up into him, gasping.
He spread apart her hot, moist flesh with his fingers, took a moment to appreciate how incredibly blessed he was to be lying here, between her thighs, about to worship her again. She was red, swollen, visibly wet, and he was the cause of her arousal. The nub of her sex quivered, beckoning him to taste her. He gratefully obliged, lapped his tongue broadly up the length of her.
He was rewarded with a deep moan that murmured into a sigh of his name. "Haann..."
He loved her. Completely. Utterly. Desperately.
He was now familiar with her body and knew it would not take much to push her into climax. He would gladly take as long as she wanted and needed.
He knew she didn't need further stimulation along her lips, but he could not resist, angled his tongue to delve into the folds and valley. Hands clutching the bunk's covers, her hips tilted up, following the motion of his tongue.
He reached her clit, circled his tongue around it. She moaned his name again.
Although she wouldn't need it, he briefly pulled away to place two fingers in his mouth to lubricate them, then returned to nipping and sucking at her nub. His belief was confirmed when he easily slipped one large finger inside her warmth and she contracted around it. A second finger followed, and her hips bucked against his mouth. He pumped his fingers harder.
She was mumbling his name, almost incoherently, when she reached down to tangle her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as she forced herself against his exacting tongue.
Her body tensed, muscles clenching around his finger, and he closed his mouth firmly around her, sucking, pulling and twirling her with his tongue. Her rhythmic cries of his name lurched into a high-pitched keen, melting his insides but not his resolve. He continued pushing her until she careened over the edge into a twitching, jerking release.
Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and more than satisfied with his work, Han pulled back from her thighs and allowed her to enjoy the rush that overwhelmed her, knowing that she was always hyper-sensitive and jumpy about being further caressed or touched.
When she looked down towards him, he took that as his cue to return to her thighs, his chest now pressing into her and allowing most of his weight to rest against the bunk. He lay his head between her breasts and held her onto her.
"Thank you," Leia told him, lovingly ruffling his hair through her fingers.
"Any time," he replied. "But next time, I want you to tell me what to do, okay?" He felt her nod, but he could tell she was a little confused. "I like you telling me what to do," he further explained.
He heard the smile in her voice. "I'm certain I can accommodate you."
"I knew you would."
They lay together like that, drifting, enjoying the easy silence between them with no need or compulsion to talk, the sounds of the ships sub-light engines roaring in the distance.
Han realised he had dozed off when he heard Leia say, "What happened to you giving it to me hard and fast in the conference room?"
"Plenty of time for that," he mumbled into her skin.
And indeed, there was.