Han eased himself down onto one of the regal white couches in the main room of their suite. Unclipping his comm from his belt, he set it on one of the equally fancy transparasteel tables and bent at the waist to take off his boots, followed by his socks — both decidedly less fancy than the atmosphere around where he laid them.
While he was yet with Lando on the Falcon directing the start of repairs, Han had commed Leia to check on her, make sure she had everything she needed, and figure out a plan for dinner. Picking up his comm again now, he set about arranging the gourmet meal she'd decided on. He chanced a glance up at the viewport in the room's domed ceiling while waiting for the Lutrillian on the other end of the call to confirm their selections and glimpsed a lone cloud car majestically gliding above him. He shook his head, a bit confounded by it all.
Order successfully placed, Han stood up, stretching his long spine and letting his toes sink into the ridiculously plush, impractically white carpet. Setting out in the direction of the room Leia had chosen, his eyes scanned over the towering glassine sculpture at the room's center as he walked past; he cocked his head at the thing in puzzlement.
While the majority of Han thought this suite was a little too much for his tastes, another part of him imagined that, given time, he could get used to all this opulence. It certainly beat the hell out of Hoth. He had to admit that he, too, would like to try out one of their fancy freshers before dinner, but he wanted to tell Leia of that plan first and let her know their food would be coming in about a half an hour or so.
Walking into the bedroom, Han immediately noted the variance in their nighttime routine even as the door was still closing behind him. Certainly, there was the upgrade in environment. Then, there was the fact that Leia typically let her hair down in the evenings before sweeping it to the side in a loose braid for sleeping, but it was currently still up in its tight crown of braids…And, oh yes, there was the more conspicuous, eye-catching fact that she was presently wearing next to nothing.
Han all but choked on his tongue seeing Leia clothed only in a tiny, mouthwatering piece of pale rose gold lingerie. The skirt of the slip had a provocative bit of flounce to it and an even more provocative hemline that stopped high on her thighs, leaving her shapely legs gloriously bare beneath — and, since she stood still facing the bed, gave him a dual view of her barely-covered luscious little behind. The straps of the chemise dipped daringly low, too, allowing her toned back to be fully exposed nearly to the base of her spine.
The garment was clearly intended for nothing more than to best display her body — and look Han did.
He knew she must have heard him come in but she didn't say anything, just bent to draw back the covers on the bed. As she leaned down, the slip rose higher still, revealing the scantest hint of ass cheek that set off a spike of insistent heat through his veins.
When Leia finally did turn around to face him, Han felt his jaw literally drop open, and he wasn't the least bit sorry.
The aeien silk fell like water over her body, outlining her every curve. He could tell without needing to touch it that the fabric was fine and smooth…and semi-translucent. He could make out her navel and the lace of her panties that matched the diaphanous zoosha lace that ran over her breasts, displaying ample velvety cleavage and just narrowly obscuring her areolae from view. As if all that weren't enough to melt him on the spot, the deep neckline of the chemise dipped all the way down to mid-sternum; the tantalizing skin in the gap between looked impossibly soft and warm and inviting.
After running his eyes over her body another time, Han's gaze slid to hers and clung, a white-hot rush of desire coursing through him that left him instantly desperate to have her.
Leia could read it on him, and she smiled. "Believe it or not, this is the most modest piece Lando's people provided for me to sleep in. I suspect you're right: he is a scoundrel," she told him. "I'll admit, though, I didn't exactly regret the predicament he left us in. I was looking forward to you finding me in this…"
"Yeah?" Han responded with interest, an amorous gleam in his eyes as they traveled down and back up her figure again, unable to stop himself from openly admiring her.
"I was inspired by our interlude last night. On the dejarik table," she provided helpfully, as if he could have forgotten.
"'Interlude'?" Han repeated with a charmed smile. "Is that royal speak for making out in our underwear?"
"More or less," she confirmed with a saucy shrug that further turned him on.
Leia bit her lip coyly. "I liked what we did. Not just the kissing but the rest of it…I liked it a lot," she extolled, and ran her fingers down the open edge of her negligee, deliberately drawing his eye to her bare décolletage.
That little move left Han with no doubt at all that she knew exactly what she was doing to him. "What you like," he smirked knowingly as he crossed the room to her, "is watching me sweat while you make me as hard as Kessel rock."
"Yes. I'm discovering I do," she admitted with a wicked smile. "I quite enjoy it. Love it, in fact. That's why…" She gestured down at her attire, the way she'd presented herself to him, hadn't even bothered with the included robe that would have afforded her significantly more modesty.
"I think you were right about Bespin," Leia confided, the husky alto of her voice killing him. "You've always said I put the Alliance above everything and everyone, including myself. Well, for one night, I don't want to do that. Let's just enjoy ourselves. Enjoy not being trapped in open space. Enjoy this beautiful suite. Enjoy each other…"
She reached up to run her hand down the length of his arm invitingly. With the movement, for a moment it looked as though her left breast might entirely tumble out of the nightie and Han swore helplessly. "Kriff, Leia…"
"There's a poetic justice here, I think," she returned mischievously. "Those practically indecent shirts of yours used to drive me very begrudgingly to distraction. Of course, you knew that; there was no other reason to wear them open to mid-chest that way — when you were wearing one at all," she pertly added. "Don't think I didn't notice you took advantage of every chance you could to strip off your shirt whenever we were on an even halfway warm planet…Now it's only fair that I return the favor."
"That's your plan, huh? Turn me on till it drives me crazy?" Han surmised, giving himself permission to track his gaze slowly and ravenously over her, not even trying to hide it as his sights glided meticulously over every centim of her body, now that he knew that was precisely what she wanted.
"Gotta say," he decided, his eyes glued to her breasts, working his hardest to see behind that lace, "wouldn't be a bad way to go."
Leia grinned seductively, exhilarated by his reaction. "I'm not trying to drive you crazy. The aim was to turn you on," she acknowledged.
"Worship, you accomplish that just by walkin' in the room."
"That is an excellent line, Captain," she laughed, affected, nevertheless.
Han shook his head. "Not a line, the absolute truth. You'd turn me on wearing a tuber sack, and I think you know it."
"Fine, I wanted to drive you slightly crazy," Leia ceded, stepping closer to him, stopping only once their bodies were just shy of touching.
She set her open palms to his chest, glided them up beneath his navy jacket and nudged it off his shoulders. Han allowed it to slide down his arms, tossing it over to land on the nearby chair.
"But I'm not only trying to tease you," she promised, her fingers now making short work of the fasteners on his shirt. "My plan is to do a little something about it."
When she pulled at his top, clearly wanting it off too, he flung the offending garment away, heedless of where it landed as her hands found his now-bare chest again. "Sweetheart, I'm more than ready to do whatever somethings you have in mind."
"Good," she answered in a way that left no doubt she was very much in charge here, which was fine by Han; he'd be at her sexual mercy any day.
Looking him quickly over, Leia inwardly cheered that he had already taken off his boots — that was one less bit of clothing to get in the way. She carefully drew his blaster from its holster and set it down on the night table beside the bed, knowing he'd want it within reaching distance. Then she knelt on both knees, setting about to unwrap the tie-down at Han's thigh. Doing so had been a particular fantasy of hers for longer than she could pinpoint, and she took her time about it now, even paused to look up at him, aware the provocative implication of their positions was likely a longtime fantasy of his, too.
On the way back up to her feet, she let her hands drift to his behind in an alluring caress. He murmured her name as she cupped and squeezed him, but Leia withdrew her hands a moment later…only to slide them around his hips to unfasten his gunbelt. It dropped to the floor at their feet with a provocative thump that reverberated in her core.
Leia's heart was steadily racing with anticipation, and she could feel Han's was, too. His eyes were dark and heavy-lidded as they watched her intently, wondering what she would do next.
What she did was make quick work of opening the belt buckle on his pants. Taking off his weapon was one thing; this was another entirely. She'd never reached for him this way before and Han froze, stunned, waiting with bated breath for her subsequent move.
Leia did not disappoint; not only did she skate her fingers to the zipper of his pants, but she purposefully allowed the backs of her knuckles to ghost over his hardness as she worked it down, moving with deliberate and maddening slowness so that he felt every tiny vibration of the zipper releasing. Once his pants were open, she gave them a pointed shove downward, and with a helpful wiggle of his hips, the bloodstripes fell to collect around his ankles.
Before Leia had the time to delight in what she'd uncovered, in an instant, Han hauled her up against him, pressing her body to his. She would have appreciated the view, but this worked too. She was certainly far from objecting and snaked a hand up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down as her mouth urgently sought his.
Han thoroughly obliged her, but their height difference always meant they couldn't effectively sustain a standing position for long. His urge was to lift her up, wrap her legs around his waist, but he wasn't sure if she'd be amenable to that — though she seemed amenable to an awful lot tonight. Instead, stepping out of his pants and kicking them aside, all while keeping his mouth glued to hers, he maneuvered them over to the nearest flat surface, which at the moment was the bed.
Sitting was definitely a more suitable angle. It allowed them to kiss unencumbered, which quickly intensified until Leia was swinging her leg over Han's hips to straddle him. After five, or ten, or twenty more kisses — it was impossible for either of them to keep track at this point, both too far gone in a haze of desire — she pulled her lips back to whisper to him.
"I want you. I don't think I've told you that enough." She ran her hands over his chest; the skitter of his heartbeat beneath her palm and the rapidness of his breath worked to further intensify her enthusiasm. "For years, I said you were only dreaming, but that was a lie. Of course I want you. You have no idea how much I yearn for you. I ache for you, Han. And not just in my bed, in my life. I always have. You deserve to know that."
Leia sighed, needing to kiss him again. She indulged her mouth with his for several long moments before easing back enough to finish her thought. "But yes, I very much want you in my bed. You were right all along."
That was everything Han had ever hoped to hear — no, not even hoped, only fantasized. Because there were many times when he'd given up on ever hearing her say anything remotely close. And then Leia said one more thing and completely blew his mind.
"I want you in my life, in my bed…inside me," she murmured against his ear before licking the lobe, then taking it between her teeth and tugging gently.
"Kest, Leia." It was like the circuitry bay in reverse; he was the one trembling now.
"I want you inside of me," she repeated temptingly.
"Fuck." His hips bucked up against her of their own accord.
Leia shivered at the perfect press of his erection against her sex but smiled triumphantly all the same. "Han Solo, you are easy. Such a cliched term getting you so excited…" She didn't think he would feel bad at her playful teasing, still, she softened her remark with a disclosure. "But every bit of it is true. I do want to feel you inside me. You can't imagine how much."
"Oh, I think I have a rough idea," he rasped as she moved in his lap, tightening her thighs against his hips to pull herself closer. "About half as much as I want to be buried inside you right now."
After her embargo on sex, Leia noticed that Han had become more cautious in their passionate interactions, mindful of doing anything that could be perceived as unduly skirting the line of propriety. It was sweet of him and conscientious, if a bit overly so when she thought she'd been clear that she didn't want them to stop with physical affection. She knew that also meant it would be left to her now to get him to take things up a notch. Han wouldn't make any boundary-pushing moves on his own without first some encouragement from her…so she gave it to him.
She kissed her way down his neck, biting into the ligament that ran along the side, lapping at the hollow of his throat then licking a path up to his laryngeal prominence, opening her mouth to suck on it before gliding her lips up to nibble at the underside of his jaw.
Leia heard him release a stilted, shaky breath and she pulled back to meet his eyes. The carefully but barely banked fire there sent a hot, wild thrill through her and she assertively took hold of his hands — grabbing one from her bare thigh where the chemise had rucked up, and the other from the back of her neck — guiding them both to hover over the rise of her chest.
Han's brow dipped down with uncertainty and he looked to Leia in cautious query. Because it seemed like she was taking them on a route that, for him, had never ended chastely. "You want me to…?"
Leia met his eyes, decisive and sure. "Yes." Sensing he needed the exact words from her, she unreservedly spoke them. "Touch me, Han. I want your hands on my breasts. Not a slight brush or a passing sweep over. Really touch me, the way we've both imagined."
Such an invitation from Leia was straight out of his fantasies and Han needed no further encouragement, but he wasn't about to go in for the quick grab. No, that move wasn't for him, not with her. Much imagination had gone into this moment and he would approach it with finesse. He was going to savor it.
Slowly, he moved his hands down to cup her breasts from beneath, memorizing their shape and weight. Leia's lower lip slid between her teeth and she gave a soft sigh at the contact. With this new and intimate knowledge of her body indelibly imprinted upon him, Han finally allowed himself to palm her breasts. A low, raw sound escaped his throat as he spread his fingers to fully engulf her in his large hands.
"Oh, goddess," Leia murmured in satisfaction. "I've lost track of how long I've wanted you to do that..."
There was such wanting in her tone, and feeling her there in his hands, the way she was responding to him — it was nearly Han's undoing. "Has anyone ever touched you like this before?"
His voice was a low, sensual rumble that echoed as a needful pulse deep inside her. When he began kneading her breasts, Leia tipped her head back eagerly. She was barely able to answer with a strained and breathy, "No one."
Han was left breathless, too, by the privilege of that answer, utterly ignited by the knowledge that she chose him: he got to be the one.
A moment later, she added, "Only myself", and Han thought he might lose it then and there.
"Fuck, Leia," came out in a growl, and he began stroking his thumb over her nipple, making it harden beneath the thin lace. When he started on the other, Leia righted her head to look at him, wanting to watch his face as he touched her.
Sensing her eyes on him, Han glanced up from her chest to hold her gaze, watching her watch him. "You feel incredible, Sweetheart. Better than I imagined. Does it feel good?"
It was a needless question; the movements of his talented fingers guaranteed that it did. She'd begun to quiver — literally quiver with pleasure — as he rubbed circles over her nipples, stimulating them to aching peaks. He already knew the answer, he must, but he wanted to hear her say it.
"Yes, it feels good." She moved her hands up over his, encouraging his touch. "You feel good," she whimpered, enjoyment flooding her until it was so heady and intense that her eyes fell closed again.
"'S good for you?" he double-checked. It was certainly good for him; the tactile feel of her breasts in his hands was making his erection throb with need.
Her first attempt at speech was nothing more than breath shuddering out. "Mmm…mm-hmm." Leia finally nodded wordlessly, having trouble forming them.
"Something we both like, then. So, let's see…" Han began an erotic inventory, all the while, still massaging her. "You like it when I kiss your neck." He pressed his lips there, illustrating the point. "When I suck your earlobe." He did just that, nibbling greedily at her lobe before setting it free. "Or just beneath it," he adjoined in a whisper, pressing a kiss there, his breath warm and arousing where it spread across her skin. "That little spot right where your neck eases into your shoulder. Any attention there always gets you going." He teased closed lips along the spot, nuzzling, then opened his mouth and voraciously drew her in, the audible suction powerfully erotic in the quiet room.
"Your tongue," Leia offered appreciatively. "I love your tongue."
"In your mouth?"
"Anywhere," she moaned, arching her back to press herself further into his hands where she felt Han shiver.
"Sweetheart, you haven't even seen the best work my tongue can do, but I'll remember that," he breathed, struggling for a fuller grasp on his self-control. "And now, we both know we like it when I fondle your breasts, play with your nipples…" He rolled them between his thumbs and forefingers through the lace, gently toying, and she undulated her hips against him, keening in such an explicit, abandoned way that it might have embarrassed her had she been less absorbed in sensation.
Leia claimed his mouth again, rocking against him and making small sounds of satisfaction as he continued to touch her. It didn't take long for Han to become so lost in her that his body moved by hunger alone, giving over to instinct and experience. Never breaking their physical contact that at this point felt like an intrinsic need, he stood up with her in his arms so he could turn and shift his knees onto the bed, flipping her over onto the sheets.
It was a practiced move that happened in an instant; Han's body suddenly stretched out over her with Leia's thighs bracketing his hips as he pressed hers down into the mattress. Only once he was rhythmically driving his hardness into the damp heat of her sex with just a scrap of thin lace as the lone barrier to her did he realize what he was doing.
Alarmed, Han stilled his hips and abruptly broke from her lips. "Kest," he muttered anxiously, scrambling up onto his knees over her so their bodies were no longer in contact; then further still, sitting up against the backs of his legs and looking down at her with wide, troubled eyes. "Leia, I'm sorry."
He knew how it must seem — like he was trying to compel her into sex, or actually initiate it on his own — but that wasn't his intention. He didn't have any intention. He hadn't been thinking at all, only feeling, hadn't even comprehended what he was doing until he was already doing it.
"I wasn't trying to get you to—"
But that defense quickly died on his tongue because, kriff, could he even say that when he'd climbed on top of her and was aggressively thrusting his erection against the soft warmth of her barely clothed genitals?
"Not consciously," he corrected in horrified remorse. "I wasn't thinking, I — Gods, I promise I didn't mean to—"
Han wasn't sure if he'd formed a proper ending to the sentence but was stopping from finding out when Leia's face crumpled into tears where she still lay, frozen on the bed.