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The death blade vibrates between them, bright red against a landscape of blue-green-gray, the hum of the saber like a manifestation of emotions raging within. Qimir can see how hard it is for Osha to confront these feelings, the truth of her past and the reason she left the Jedi Order. How much pain his words brought her. But this is something she needs to face. And searching her dark, liquid eyes, he knows she doesn’t really want to kill him.
Anger and sadness pour off Osha, the combination as tumultuous as the waves crashing behind her, and just as beautiful. She is beautiful, her Force signature shining brighter with each moment as the emotions roll through her.
It’s been a long time since she allowed herself to feel so much, he can tell. Now she doesn’t know how to handle the onslaught. But that is why she needs him. He can help her. He can teach her. He can take care of her.
“I understand,” he murmurs, and he does, far too well, though that is a story for another time. “I lost everything, Osha. But when you lose everything,” he rests his hand gently on her arm. “That’s when you’re finally free.”
Her fingers tremble around the lightsaber. For a long moment, she can’t meet his gaze. If her hand slips, if she drops the blade, then one or both of them will suffer for it. But he doesn’t try to take the saber from her. Doesn’t try to push her in any way.
Qimir has waited for her this long. He will give her as much time as she needs.
When she finally looks up, new emotions fill her eyes. Fear, yes, but not of him. Realization. Understanding. And something darker and sweeter by far. Her eyes drop to his mouth and then back up to his eyes as she struggles for control.
She doesn’t need control, he wants to tell her. What she needs is to let go.
“Osha, let me help set you free.”
Something inside her changes. With those words, she has finally given up on denying herself. He feels the sudden acceptance in her Force signature. In the increased tempo of the waves pounding against the shore. In the salt air eddying around them.
The blade retracts, and the lightsaber spills from her grasp, tumbling to the rocks at their feet.
And then she reaches for him.
Pure elation floods Qimir at the feeling of her pressed so close, the rock wall hard and rough at his back, Osha warm and willing at his front. Her lips are soft when they meet his, insistent. From the very first touch, she kisses him like she wants to drown in him.
Part of him longs to consume her. To take all she has to offer and more. But this is too important. Whatever will come next between them depends on what happens now, and he’s determined not to rush things.
Cupping the back of her head with one hand, he responds gently but intentionally, drawing her lower lip between his own, tracing the seam of her mouth with his tongue. His other hand finds her waist, and the strip of warm, smooth skin revealed by the straining of her shirt. She’s so small under his palms. He could crush her so easily. But to worship her would be even easier.
Osha gasps when he fans his fingers across her stomach beneath her shirt, and he licks into her mouth, the taste of her overwhelmingly sweet. She chases his tongue with her own, pleasure sparking between them at the touch, her hands clawing at the neckline of his tunic as if she might try to rip it off.
He’s painfully hard already, at the feeling of her, at her enthusiasm, so much more than he’d dared hope for. If she keeps responding to him like this, it will be difficult to maintain the slow pace he’s set for himself.
“Easy,” he murmurs against her lips. “I promise I’m going to give you everything you want. Let yourself enjoy this.”
But Osha is too overwhelmed. She presses closer against him, seeking friction. After denying herself for so long, it’s evident that allowing herself to feel these feelings has completely consumed her.
“I can’t,” she whines. “I need—”
She can’t finish the sentence. Qimir loves how quickly she has fallen headlong into her desire, proof of the depth of her emotions and her potential within the Force, which he sensed the moment she walked into that apothecary shop. She holds nothing back. Not even the purest man alive could resist such pleading, and Qimir is far from pure.
“Okay, sweet girl. Then let me take care of you.”
His hand slides down to the waistband of her leggings and slips inside. He lets out a low groan when he finds her already soaked, in a way that tells him this has been building within her for more than a few minutes. Since they spoke about accessing the Force in the cave? Since he stood naked before her on the beach? He doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter.
“You do need this, don’t you?” he murmurs against her neck, gently parting her folds.
“Yes,” Osha moans in response, hands fisting in the fabric of his tunic.
That one word, her affirmation, swirls like a drug through his veins, heady and perfect.
He swipes his thumb over her sensitive clit at the same time as two fingers sink inside her, meeting no resistance. A high, keening noise spills from her throat. He wants to capture the sound, to hold it in his chest. But more than anything else, he wants to hear it again.
Slowly at first, then faster, he pumps his fingers within her. Osha writhes against him, shaking with need. She’s ferocious and beautiful in her desire. The sight is better than he could have imagined. Another circle of his thumb over her clit, his fingers pressed to the sweet spot inside of her, and she’s already there at the edge. Her body goes rigid with anticipation, so close to falling over the precipice.
He moves his mouth to the place below her jaw, letting his teeth scrape gently against her skin as he presses on that spot again, insistent. That’s all it takes, and suddenly she’s shuddering and sobbing in his arms, her walls clenching around his fingers.
Unfathomable pleasure floods through him at feeling her come apart so quickly.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, gently rubbing her clit to draw out her orgasm for as long as possible. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
He holds her close until her shaking subsides. If she were to change her mind right now, summon the lightsaber from the ground and run him through, Qimir would die happy.
Instead, she pulls back to look at him. Though her eyes are dazed, there’s somehow also a stark awareness there. “Qimir,” she says like it’s some epiphany, and the sound of his name in her breathy voice is an excruciating kind of bliss.
Holding her gaze, he removes his hand from between her legs, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. Qimir didn’t think it possible, but her eyes grow even darker. The taste of her is musky and salty and intoxicating. He wants more of it, wants to feel her thighs pressed against his ears as he drinks directly from the source.
She kisses him, heedless of the taste of herself on his lips. For all that he’d just brought her to release, she’s no less desperate in the way she moves her mouth against his, in the way her tongue seeks his own. She kisses him like she wants to devour him, and for the first time he allows himself to truly believe that she could possibly want him as much as he wants her.
It’s all he has sought for so long. To find his acolyte, his other half. Now she is here in his arms, and he will do anything to keep her there.
Soon, he’s certain, they will be joined in the Force, bonded as Master and student, able to communicate without words. For now, though, he has to break the kiss to speak.
“Tell me what you want,” he rasps into her ear.
“More,” she responds, shuddering. “Everything.”
It’s easy to lift her into his arms. She wraps her legs around his waist, pressing her drenched center against the length of him. Heat radiates through the thin fabric of her leggings, and he feels like he’s going to combust, his cock straining in his trousers.
Their mouths find each other, and then he’s carrying her inside the cave. He’s walked this path a thousand times with his helmet on and doesn’t need to see where he’s going.
Gently, he lays her on his bed and climbs over her. She stares up at him, pupils blown wide. It feels so good, so right, to see her there against his sheets. There’s only one thing that could make it better.
His lips press against her neck as he reaches for the hem of her shirts—both her sister’s, as well as the sleeveless black tunic beneath. He pushes them up, feeling the smooth, taut skin of her stomach beneath his palm. A shiver chases through her. Briefly, he worries she might be cold. The hesitation lasts only a split second, less than a moment, but still Osha cannot wait. Sitting upright, she reaches for the hem of her shirts herself, and pulls them over her head.
Qimir fights the urge to groan at the sight of her bare breasts, her dark nipples already pebbled and begging to be touched. And when she lays back down like an offering, he can’t resist, sliding a hand up her stomach to trace the gentle swell.
Hands fisted in the sheets, she arches into him just at that light touch.
“So sensitive,” he croons, enraptured.
“Please,” she begs, and in that moment, he can deny her nothing.
Bending down, he takes one pert nipple in his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Osha cries out and bows toward him even further. She is going to ruin him with her responsiveness, make it impossible to think of anything but drawing those sounds from her lips.
The hand not keeping him upright finds her other breast, cupping the soft skin in his roughened palm, twirling her nipple with the pads of his fingers. Those beautiful little noises keep tumbling from her mouth. And then her hands reach for the ties on his own tunic, and the idea of feeling her skin-to-skin is suddenly imperative.
Together, they divest him of the garment. Her hands find his shoulders, sliding over his biceps and down his back, exploring. She does not shy away from the many scars embedded in his skin, but neither does she linger, as if determined to map every inch of him. And then her hands are on his stomach, reaching for his waistband.
A wave of pleasure rolls through him at the touch, his cock throbbing where it presses against her thigh. But still, he bats her hands away. “Not yet.”
There is more he wants to do to her, first.
Confusion and perhaps a little frustration flicker on her beautiful face. Qimir chuckles, and grabs her chin, taking her mouth in a long, languorous kiss. She opens for him immediately, soft and pliant and willing to take whatever he wants to give her.
As if he doesn’t want to give her the whole fucking galaxy.
When they draw apart, he reaches for her leggings instead. She lifts her hips, eager, allowing him to peel the fabric down her body. Soon she lays completely bare before him, gleaming brown skin against black sheets.
This, Osha naked in his bed, is the most perfect thing he’s ever seen.
Taking her ankle in one hand, he presses a kiss to the inside of her calf. Then another, inside her knee. She gasps and tips her head back with pleasure. And when he kisses her thigh, she spreads her legs for him, her cunt glistening with how wet she is.
For him. All for him.
He should tease her, should take his time driving her crazy. But he is too desperate to taste her again and cannot make himself wait.
Her thighs shake when he swipes his tongue from her opening to her clit in one long, broad stroke. Fingers find his hair, and he could not be more pleased at her taking this small bit of control. He rewards her by circling her clit with the tip of his tongue, feeling how she shudders, how her fingers pull.
She tastes the way he imagines it would feel to become one with the Force; utterly transcendent. Gripping her thighs in his hands, he takes her clit in his mouth, sucking hard. She shouts and nearly lifts off the bed, but he holds her in place, forcing her to lay there and feel everything he’s doing to her.
Over and over, he traces the shape of her with his tongue, swirls her clit in his mouth. Soon she’s sobbing, and Qimir has never felt more powerful than he does knowing she is giving herself over to her desire so fully because of him.
He releases one of her thighs, rubbing a finger along her opening. Osha presses back against him in invitation.
“Yes, yes,” she pleads, and he gladly slides the finger inside.
Her body shakes beneath him. With his tongue and his lips and his hand, he drives her relentlessly towards the edge. And when he finally pushes her over it, her hands pull in his hair so hard that she might tear it from his scalp, and it is exquisite.
Even after her shuddering stops, he continues the long, broad strokes of his tongue. She jolts with the aftershocks whenever he touches her clit, but Qimir is a drowning man finally given a breath of air and desperate for more.
Her hands move from his hair to his shoulders, urging him up. Qimir doesn’t move. “One more,” he says against her thigh, although in truth he’s not certain he’ll be satisfied with just one.
But Osha is insistent. “I want you inside me.”
Qimir has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from coming in his pants like a damn teenager.
He has never wanted anyone the way he wants Osha.
Pulling away, he quickly unties and slips off his trousers. When he returns to the bed, Osha twines her arms around his neck and pulls his mouth to hers. Already it feels as if this is where they belong, tangled up together, her skin so warm where it presses against his.
And then she wraps her legs around his hips.
Her drenched cunt slides over his cock and it’s all he can do to keep from bucking against her.
“Osha,” he groans.
“Now,” she replies, breathless, hands clenching his shoulders as if her life depends on it. “Please.”
Reaching between them, he takes himself in hand. He slots the tip of his cock against her opening, and she trembles beneath him in anticipation, but he does not immediately continue.
“Look at me,” he demands instead.
Her brown eyes fly to his, holding his gaze.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he presses into her, feeling her walls stretch to accommodate him. Her mouth is open, intense pleasure written in the shine of her eyes. He can tell how badly she wants to close them, to lose herself in feeling, but she forces herself to hold his gaze. It is wonderful and excruciating.
“Perfect,” he groans as he sheaths himself fully within her. “You feel so perfect.”
He stills to give her time to adjust. She is small, and he doesn’t know how much experience she has, or how recently, and he doesn’t want to hurt her. But Osha neither wants nor needs any time. She presses her hips off the bed, using the leverage of her legs wrapped around his waist to rock against him, her eyes still staring into his own.
It’s too much. She’s so wet and warm and fits around him perfectly. With a groan, he pulls out, and immediately slams back in.
Osha can no longer hold his gaze, her head falling back with a moan, but he is pleased with how long she managed and even more pleased with her obvious pleasure. She clings to his shoulders as he rocks into her over and over, and he takes her mouth with his own, kissing her like he could meld them into a single being if he tries hard enough.
Each stroke is rapturous, the sounds she makes so sweet. Her fingers dig into the muscles of his back, nails biting into skin. When she goes tense beneath him, her walls tightening around his cock as she approaches her peak, it’s all he can do not to spill inside her. But he’s desperate to make her come one more time, first.
She’s thankfully close. It takes only a few more well-aimed strokes before the tension within her snaps, and she cries out, her cunt fluttering and pulsing around him. The feeling is too much. He shouts as he follows her over the edge, vision going white at the edges with the intensity of the orgasm tearing through him.
They cling to each other, riding out their mutual high. But even when it finally passes, Qimir can’t bring himself to untangle himself from her. Osha gazes up at him. Her eyes are soft and blissed out. He kisses her, long and slow and deep.
Eventually, though, he has to pull away. Osha whimpers as he slips from her body and then from the bed, padding across the space to grab a washcloth, which he wets his canteen before returning to her. Carefully, gently, he cleans between her legs.
When he’s done, he stretches out beside her and pulls her into his arms.
She curls into him, her head tucked into the crook of his neck, and for a while they simply lay together and breathe. But as the haze of desire and pleasure fade, Qimir senses the uncertainty rise within her.
“What is it?” he asks, running a hand over her locs. For this relationship to work, for her to truly be his acolyte, they can have no secrets between them.
She is hesitant, uncertain, and yet she manages to force the words out. “Was it… were you like this with Mae?”
He’s proud of her for voicing her fear, and chuckles at the jealousy threaded into her voice. It’s good, so good, that already she wants him only for herself. Their bond will be a glorious thing, he knows it with fierce certainty.
“Osha, Mae never even saw my face—not while knowing who I really was—much less any other part of me.”
“Why not? How can you want me if you didn’t want her?”
He snorts. “You two are nothing alike.”
“We’re twins.”
“That doesn’t make you the same.”
And yet he senses that she’s still not entirely convinced. This is a deep wound for her that will take some time to heal.
“Osha,” he breathes, moving so that he once more hovers over her, pressing their bodies flush against one another. Already his cock is stirring. He fears he will never be sated, not when it comes to her. “Would you like me to show you how I feel about you again?”
Her cheeks darken with the heat of her blush, and she peers up at him from beneath her long lashes. “Maybe, just a little bit.”
Fully laughing now, Qimir bends to kiss her again. He will show her, as many times as it takes, as often as she wants. Because she is his now, and he is hers, and together they will be whole.