Skira pointed his blaster pistol at the hotel room's door as it clicked open, but let out a sigh of relief as Raana Ti stepped through alone. For a moment, she arched a brow at the pistol, then at him standing there only in a brief towel wrapped around his waist. Then an amused smile replaced the arched brow.
Raana was a beautiful woman with creamsicle orange skin, decorated with white markings that looked like stylized wings on her cheeks, forehead, clavicle, groin, shoulder blades, and the small of her back, with thin white stripes on her eyebrows, arms, ribs, and legs. Full, cranberry lips parted as her smile grew to reveal sharp, predatory teeth. While her features and body were human, instead of ears and hair, she instead had crest that became a pair of hollow horns called montrals on the top of her head with a trio of headtails falling over her shoulders, two lekku that framed her face, and a larger one that covered the back of her head and trailed down her spine, all of which were white with black stripes. She was the same height as him with well defined muscles under her bountiful curves.
"Well, I see someone is happy to see me," she purred, stalking towards him and seizing him in a passionate, loving kiss. He returned it, tossing his blaster on the bed and seizing her hips for a moment to draw her closer, before wrapping his arms around her waist.
They parted from the kiss and rested their foreheads against each other.
"I'm always happy to see you," he said softly. Her hands delicately traced the scars on his chest, smiling slightly. "How did it go?"
"Smooth as Zeltros silk," she said, pushing him back onto the bed and straddling him. "By tomorrow morning, we'll have full scans of her jewelry and we can start replication. Now, what's this I hear about trouble?"
"New Republic Intelligence is here," he said, with a sigh and a scowl. "I don't know if they're here for us or Carskov's wife."
"You're sure?" Raana asked.
"Ryn spotted them, a human or near human, and a Chiss or Pantoran, she wasn't sure. She also said Luminia was faking her attitude out there." Skira replied.
"Hmm, if it's a Chiss that likely means it's the ImpInt instead," Raana said with a grimace as she settled down on top of him. She pressed their bodies together, her legs folded on either side of him and her hands on his chest. The white bikini she wore was somewhat more modest than Ryn's, but it still displayed her wonderfully. Skira rested his hands on her hips, still lost in the wonder that he was married to such a beautiful woman. Even being trapped for nearly four months in the tiny Bes'bev with her, Ryn, and his obstinate R5 astromech droid, hadn't dimmed how lucky he felt.
"Why would the ImpInt be involved though?" Skira mused. Imperial Intelligence was the name for the Imperial Remnant's intelligence service. How malevolent it was these days was up for debate, though it had never been the terror that was the ISB, or Imperial Security Bureau. Palleon's IR was a much friendlier, more professional government compared to what it had been under the Emperor or the Moffs turned Warlords, even if it lacked the propaganda of the New Republic to sell itself as the superior place to live.
"Why do spies go after spies?" Raana said with a shrug. "If they're after us, maybe they found out about what happened at Swedlan."
Skira grimaced, but had to admit his wife had a point. While most of the expedition had been killed, some of it had been saved and they'd been told what had happened. NRI might have tried to clamp down on the information, but the thing about a government that sold itself as "for the people" was that it couldn't very well just disappear nearly 40 of its citizens with ties to the inter-galactic academic community. Not like the old Empire could. Likely, someone had talked and rumors spread from there.
"So you think they're here to find out what happened?" he asked.
"If it is the Imps, I think it likely," Raana said. "If it's NRI, they're likely here to keep it quiet, especially if Swedlan has gone dark."
Letting it get out that the Republic had been involved in some research that had gone wrong and killed some scientists wasn't that bad, Skira had to admit. They'd had that happen dozens of times over the last decade or so dealing with trying to research Vongese tech and weapons in an attempt to reclaim lost worlds. But having said research wipe out an entire planet, that the Republic probably would be desperate enough to make sure it never got out.
"So, potential allies, potential assassins." Skira grumbled, saying what they were both thinking. "And us unable to run around in our Beskar'gam."
"For the next few days, at least." Raana agreed. She didn't pout, because Mando'ad women didn't engage in such behaviors. But it was as close as one of them could get.
His wife glanced at the clock and chewed her lip in thought. One didn't call Mando'ad women cute either, not if you wanted to keep your head, but Skira found the gesture enthralling anyways. She smirked down at him because of his reaction and pressed down harder, making him groan.
"We should be heading down to dinner," Raana said, "and seeing if we can learn more about our new friends."
"We should," Skira said. He dragged her down and twisted his body so that he was on top of her, pinning her against the bed."But we are technically on vacation. If someone is watching us, we should act like it."
Raana stretched luxuriously, arching her back off the bed, her eyes predatory as they watched him.
"Should we now," she teased. "From what I heard on the comm, you were very convincing with Ryn. Perhaps you don't need me any more?"
Skira let out a soft growl and bit his wife where her neck met her shoulder, his hand coming down between them to draw her panties aside. His towel fell away and he thrust deep inside her, making her shudder and moan as she suddenly clung to him.
"Okay," she said softly, her hands trailing the scars that covered his back. "Point taken, my cyar'ika."
She held him close as he took her slowly and deliberately, nuzzling him, her sharp teeth nipping and teasing his flesh. A particularly firm thrust made her squeal and she bit his shoulder, drawing blood with her fangs, renewing the scar she had marked him with over and over again since their wedding oath. He had scars from torture. Scars from wounds in battle. But the scar of her love was the one he took pride in. So he took his time, overwhelming her again and again with need, so she'd make that scar just a little bit deeper, mark her love in to him just that much more.
That way a part of her would always be with him, no matter what happened.
They were Mando'ad. They never knew when the end would come. So they cherished every moment.
He brought her to a shuddering, screaming climax as he filled her completely, and she did her best to crush the life out of him with how tightly she held him. In that moment, there was just them. No pain, no memories, no fears, no need for revenge. Just them. Alone, in a bed, with each other.
Panting, he held her close, feeling her hands and lekku caress him. Slowly, gently, her fangs came out of his flesh and she blushed in embarrassment at wounding him yet again, before licking the wound clean. She picked up an anti-septic bandage from the bedside table and gently covered the ravaged flesh.
He grit his teeth as the disinfectant went to work, but it was a familiar pain. One that was worth it for the woman in his arms. Raana pressed a soft kiss on top of the bandage. The wound would heal in a matter of hours, though the scar would remain.
"I love you," she said.
"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum," he replied, resting his head against hers, basking in her smile.
She closed her eyes, nuzzling close, basking in the moment and he did his best to do the same. Each moment like this was precious beyond words, yet bitter sweet, because he could not be happy with those he loved without remembering those he had lost. Aay'han, his people called it.
His stomach growled and Raana let out a small laugh.
"Typical man," she teased, "you satisfy one appetite, and then move on to the other with no sense of romance."
Skira was about to say something pithy when her own stomach let out a rumble and his wife blushed. When he arched a brow at her, she lightly slapped his arm and did the not-pouting thing again.
"Fine," she admitted after a moment. "We can go eat."
Skira nodded and pulled away from her, only to find himself on his back with his wife's tongue firmly licking his manhood. When they'd first married, the idea of such a thing had slightly shocked Raana, but constant exposure to Ryn, and an inherent sense of competitiveness, had driven the Togruta to get into the near possessive habit of cleaning him up after sex.
He wasn't going to complain, because it was pointless. Many an outsider would have considered him lucky to have two beautiful women to see to his every need. The truth was most of the time he was at the mercy of theirs. It was okay though, because they loved him, and he'd never thought he'd have that in his life. Being at their mercy was a small price to pay.
Satisfied with her work, Raana got up and walked over to the dresser they'd put their clothes in, discarded her dirty bikini, and dressed in a brief crimson mini skirt and matching bandeau top that clung to her like a second skin. She glanced back at him in the mirror and smirked.
"If you're thinking of tempting me back to bed, you're going to fail," she said lovingly. "Now get dressed before I decide to eat you for dinner, Adenn."
He sighed and sat up, joining her at the dresser and pulling on a fresh pair of shorts. Next he pulled on a nerf-leather double shoulder holster. He slipped his DC-17 pistol into the holster under his left arm, and then slipped a DC-15 into the one on the right for his wife, since her outfit left nowhere for her to hide anything more than a small vibro-blade. Over the holster and his scars, he put on a tropical themed shirt of rather garish colors.
Raana gave the shirt a disapproving look.
"You can still tell you've got blasters under there," she said with a frown.
"Nothing I can do about that," he said. "Bad enough I have to leave my rifle behind, I'm not swapping to one of those tiny hold outs."
His wife let out a sigh, but let the subject drop. She'd only managed to get him to go out by the pool the last two days unarmed because she was up here with her DC-15 rifle to cover him.
"So," she said, "where do we want to eat?"
"I saw a Corellian place," Skira said. "Or there's that Bothan restaurant down the block."
"Oh, there's the Twi'lek place!" Ryn said, poking her head in the room. "If you're going to make me stay here watching this boring old woman have sex with that pink boy, can you at least bring me back some fried Mynock?"
"I suppose we can do that," Raana said, making a face. Her one experience with the dish had been Ryn cooking it. Skira didn't blame her for being revolted. Ryn was talented at many things, not just sex, but cooking was not one of them.
"Oh! I want munch-fungus loaf as well!" Ryn said happily before ducking back out onto the balcony.
Raana made a gagging noise.
Togruta were omnivores like most human and near-human species, but they were certainly at the more carnivorous end of the spectrum. Raana only liked fruits and vegetables that were soft and fleshy, which made sense given the nature of her teeth and the fact her species lacks much in the way of large molars for grinding tougher plant matter. She needed foods she could shred, which led to preferences for those things even when the foods were prepared in such a way as to get around her limitation. The idea of eating fungi was also rather revolting to her on principle.
Gently he took her by the shoulders and pushed her out of the room before the two women in his life could start fighting about food.
"Don't worry Ryn," he called back. "I'll make sure we grab it for you. Just don't loose sight of the target."