First Night
Disclaimer: I am not George Lucas and therefore do not own Star Wars. This is merely a work of fan fiction, and no profit is being made from it.
For
estora , even though this is so clearly not the fic she asked for. Makesh and his Echo pals will be making an appearance shortly. In the meantime, here is a fic. From the seriously ill-advised ahem!reboot.
~*~*~*~FIRST NIGHT~*~*~*~
They woke tangled in sheets.
Anakin lay still for a while, eyes closed, trying to remember why he felt so good.
Oh.
Last night.
His wedding night. Force.
He turned his head cautiously to find Ryn - my wife - already awake and watching him through her lashes.
“Hey,” she greeted him softly, her voice rough with sleep. A hesitant smile tugged uncertainly at the corners of her mouth.
“Hey,” Anakin answered, too burdened with feeling to say anything more insightful.
Their eyes met, questioning, and Ryn blushed fiercely and dropped her gaze.
But she was grinning, practically vibrating with joy in the Force.
Wow. I did that. Wow.
Anakin couldn’t think of anything to say - he’d said everything last night, without words - so he just lay still and watched his wife come to terms with the reality of married life.
Ryn reached out, still unsure of herself, and brushed the backs of his fingers with hers - so tentative - as if, after everything they’d done last night, this small intimacy might prove too much.
Anakin touched her in answer, making contact with the back of her hand in feather-light touches before linking their fingers together.
He heard Ryn’s breath catch and tightened his grip to lift their joined hands and study them in the morning sunlight, filtered through the curtains around their bed.
Last night ...
Admittedly, the first time hadn’t gone all that well. Or, okay, it had been amazing, but probably not for Ryn. After that ...
~ ~ ~
Apparently the Lorethans felt it took a village to get a man in bed. Evinne had rounded up Kit and Sarta and Sidhair and Obi-Wan and Mace Windu and Yoda and Gunryth, and together they had escorted Anakin to the bedchamber where Ryn was waiting. He could feel her presence as they ushered him inside, and it steadied him a little - however strange these wedding customs might be, Ryn at least was familiar.
“Areth’ryn, are you ready to receive your husband?” Evinne intoned somberly; but her eyes were twinkling in the candlelight.
Ryn’s voice came out muffled by the bedcurtains. “I don’t know about ready, but I’m definitely eager.”
That made even Windu smile.
“Anakin Skywalker, are you ready to take your wife?”
Anakin’s voice cracked over his answer: “I am.”
“Then go to her.” Evinne lowered her voice and leaned closer. “But take off your clothes first.”
Anakin stared at her in disbelief and Evinne sighed. “Look, our job is to confirm that the marriage has been consummated. Ryn insists that we can’t actually stay in the room, but we’re going to have to see you get in the bed. Just strip to your underwear and get in there.”
Anakin glanced around at the expectant Lorethan faces, caught Obi-Wan’s nod. Oh, fine. He hopped on one foot to remove his boots and kick out of them, dragged his shirt over his head, and had to laugh when Evinne and Gunryth both whooped in exaggerated appreciation.
“Not fair,” Ryn’s voice said plaintively. “I don’t get to peek.”
“You’ll get yours soon enough,” Evinne promised her, voice with rich with amusement. “Though I notice you are ignoring Gunryth’s advice about playing it cool.?
“If I played it cool, Anakin wouldn’t recognize me,” Ryn said, and Evinne snorted laughter.
“Give me your pants, Skywalker, before your bride strains something in anticipation.”
Anakin handed over his outer clothes and watched Evinne bundle them under one arm. She wrapped the other around his shoulders in a quick, fierce hug. “Have fun, kid,” she whispered, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek. “You both deserve it.” She backed away, her eyes suspiciously bright, and raised her voice. “Get in the bed, Skywalker, so we can get out of here.”
Anakin walked over to the bed, pushed the heavy curtains open. Found Ryn waiting for him, sitting up with the covers tucked around her bare shoulders.
Someone yelled: “Go on! Go for it!”
Ryn blushed and Anakin stepped inside.
They waited until the whoops had died down and everybody had left before trying to speak.
“So,” Anakin said finally, and Ryn shifted under the covers, plainly nervous.
“So,” she agreed, scooting over a little and turning back the covers for him. “Do you want to ... um ... close the curtain?”
“Oh,” said Anakin intelligently. “Sure.”
To pull the curtains shut he had to crawl onto the bed so that his body was out of the way, and that was a little awkward, but when the curtains were drawn it was dark, and he was in bed with Ryn. The darkness made it easier, somehow: he couldn’t see her, which was bad, because the glimpse he’d caught of her sitting in the moonlight had been breathtaking; but she couldn’t see him, either, which was good, because Anakin was pretty sure he looked like an idiot tonight.
He couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands - or anything else, really. He lay flat on his back with his elbows tucked into his sides and tried not to breathe too loud.
And then, in the darkness, Ryn reached out and took his hand.
Oh, he thought blankly. It’s Ryn.
The simple gesture of solidarity - no sex, not yet, just the friendship that had led them here, together - broke the fears that held him rigid against the sheets.
It’s just Ryn, he told himself, and turned to face her.
He could barely make out her face in the darkness, just a white blur. But it didn’t matter, because he could feel her everywhere.
“So,” he said awkwardly. “Should we ...?”
Ryn’s fingers tightened on his. “Only if you’re ready.”
And suddenly ... he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing right now. I can’t wait, he thought, but the most he could force out of his dry throat as he reached for her was a single, hoarse word: “Yeah.”
Their first time was messy and awkward and painful, at least on Ryn’s end. They fumbled together in the darkness, laughing as knees and elbows got in the way, laughing again when they got it right.
Anakin was shaking by the time he pulled back from their kisses, stilling his hands on her hips, breathing hard. “Uh. Are you ...” he rubbed his thumb over the line of her hipbone, marking her “... ready?”
Ryn’s breath hitched. “Okay,” she said shakily, but her voice was pitched so high it almost came out as a question.
“Uh.” Of course she’s not ready, you idiot, what were you thinking, it’s going to hurt her, why would she want ... “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ... We can wait! As, uh, as long as you ...”
Ryn wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. “It’s fine,” she murmured, in between slow kisses. “I just ... I don’t want it to be over yet.” She drew back a little and trailed shaking fingers over his cheekbone. “Is that okay?”
Oh. Wow. Hey.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” Anakin whispered, and bent to trail kisses between her breasts.
That should have been good, but then he ruined it by having no idea what he was doing.
And being in a hurry.
And probably some other things Ryn never told him.
He was on the verge of disgracing himself all over the sheets when Ryn pushed him gently away. “Anakin?”
“Huh?” he gasped, distracted and half-panicked.
“Shhhh.” She spread her fingers against his chest, trembling against him. “I was just thinking.” That didn’t sound good. Anakin hadn’t been able to think since she shoved his underwear off. It didn’t seem fair for her to keep thinking without him. “We could ... ah ... we could probably do this more than once. I mean, if you wanted to ... go ahead ...” She pressed soft kisses under the line of his jaw, sucking gently. “I don’t mind.”
The words ... weren’t great. But it was the way she said them. The way she pulled him closer, just a little bit, and let him feel her eagerness.
It had to be said. “Ryn, I don’t ... we can wait,” Anakin stammered. “We -”
“Anakin, don’t wait,” Ryn whispered against his skin. “Take me now.”
He almost came right there.
But somehow he managed to roll over and drag Ryn under him, kneeing her legs apart. “Are you sure?” he croaked. Ran one hand up the inside of her thigh to touch her wetness. Oh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Ryn reached for him. “I’m ready,” she whispered, and Anakin kissed one updrawn knee.
“Okay.”
It wasn’t as easy as that, of course. A woman’s vagina is a very small target to hit in the dark, with one’s senses bewildered with desire. There was a lot of fumbling around before Anakin finally found her opening, and even then ...
“Are you sure?” he asked her again, pressing against her entrance. His hands were shaking so badly he had to tighten his grip on her.
Ryn put her hands on his hips and tugged gently. “I’m sure.”
Anakin felt her tear and flinched in sympathy. “Sorry,” he mumbled against her mouth, trying to kiss away the pain.
But Ryn just ran her hands down his back - igniting his nerves, drawing him deeper. “Come on,” she urged him, breathless. “I want you.”
It was over embarrassingly fast. Anakin came with a strangled shriek - not very manly - and collapsed on top of her. That was rude, he’d remember later, but Ryn didn’t seem to mind. He could feel her smile as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
“Yeah?” she asked him softly.
Anakin was still trying to remember how to breathe, but he clutched her tighter and choked out some utterly incoherent noises of appreciation.
Ryn laughed and trailed her fingers over his sweat-slicked skin. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Anakin nodded enthusiastically, almost banging his chin against her forehead. “Good,” he gasped. “Very good.”
He slid out of her - Ryn’s breath hitched sharply as he withdrew - and rolled away, exhausted, to study her in the moonlight that filtered through their curtains.
My wife. Wow. That’s my wife.
He leaned over her on one elbow, tracing lazy circles over her belly with his fingertips. “Are you okay?” he asked her uncertainly. “Do you ... need anything?”
Ryn arched against his fingers. “I like what you’re doing now,” she suggested, grinning up at him, and Anakin wrapped his fingers in the curve of her waist to draw her closer.
“You’ll like this, too.”
(~)
Ryn did like that, too. In fact ... Ryn liked pretty much everything he did. She writhed and twisted in his hands, laughing when it was too much and he lost his grip on her. She pushed him down and straddled him so she could lick her way down his chest, fingers digging into his skin as she held on tight. She shrieked when he fought back and wrestled her under him to pin her against the bed and buried his face in the curve where neck and shoulder met, sucking gently at the sensitive skin there.
They sat up in the darkness, touching each other, seeking out the nerves that elicited a sigh. Sometimes they found nerves that drew squeals of laughter instead, which was embarrassing but ... fun.
Their second time together, Ryn came.
It almost didn’t happen. Anakin flinched when she nudged him back and straddled him this time, sensing she wanted more than just to tease him with kisses. Something clenched in his gut and he tried to sit up, unaccountably tense.
Ryn eased back a little. “Anakin?”
He pushed her gently away. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, trying to kiss her.
Ryn touched his cheek, turning his face to the light. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said softly.
Ouch. “You didn’t frighten me.”
Of course Ryn didn’t believe him. “Anakin.”
He sighed, his arousal wilting a little. “I’m fine, Ryn.”
She kissed him lightly on the mouth. “You really like to be in charge, don’t you?” she murmured.
“Ryn ...”
“Sh, it’s okay.” She kissed him again. “I don’t have to be on top.” She leaned back, and he heard her breath hitch.
He stretched over her, finding her entrance with his fingers. “Mmm.” He tried stroking her gently, feeling her tremble at his touch, but Ryn closed her fingers over his and pushed his hand away.
“Anakin,” she said softly, “don’t tease.”
Anakin froze. “What?”
“Just go ahead,” she whispered. “Okay?”
“Um,” Anakin said, feeling that this welcome was a little cooler than before but not sure how to ask her what the hell she was thinking. “Okay.” He nudged his way inside gently, feeling her stretch for him, stroking the curve of her hip in appreciation. “‘S good,” he muttered, shuddering as she tightened around him.
“Good,” Ryn answered, resting her hands on his shoulders. “I’m glad you like it.”
He rocked into her, trying to go easy. “Are you ... sore?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Ryn assured him. She grinned and touched his cheek with her fingertips. “Go for it.”
He tried thrusting a little deeper, waiting for ... something. A gasp, a sigh, a moan. Some sign that Ryn was enjoying this as much as he was.
Or at all.
But Ryn just lay still, cradling his weight between her raised knees, running her fingers up and down his arms.
He ducked, putting a kink in his back to nuzzle the sensitive spot in the curve of her neck. “Ryn. Mmmph. Come on, Sweetheart.” He ran his hands over her skin, trying to get back her little shivers of appreciation. “Come on.” He buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent, trying to figure out what he was doing wrong. “Good, you ... you feel good.” Come on, come with me this time ...
Ryn stroked his shoulders lightly. “I’m glad you like it.”
Anakin growled in frustration, pressing into her a little harder. “I want you to like it,” he muttered, tracing the shape of her body with his hands. He blushed, but he said it anyway: “I want to make this good for you.”
“Anakin ...”
He couldn’t quite make himself meet her eyes, but he managed to whisper the words into her hair: “Just tell me what to do. Please.”
He heard Ryn’s sharp intake of breath. “Oh. Wow. You’re ... really good.”
“I’m trying.”
It took a while for them to find their rhythm together, but finally Anakin found an angle that made Ryn cry out and clutch him tighter.
“Do that again!” she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “That ... rocking thing.”
He braced one hand on the mattress for a better grip and used the other to lift her hips toward him, rocking back and forth while Ryn whimpered his name, over and over again. And then it still wasn’t perfect, she kept writhing under him, trying to get more, and without thinking Anakin found himself twisting to roll her on top of him so she could grind down yes there like that and rock her hips against his, dancing in the moonlight.
“Yes,” he panted, arching into her to make her gasp and shudder. “Like that?”
Ryn moaned something that might have been a yes, moving faster now. “Anakin ...”
“Right here.” Trying desperately not to come just yet. “Force, that’s good. Come on, now. Just let go.”
“I’m ... trying!”
“There is no try!” Anakin gritted, grabbing her hips to hold her tighter, and Ryn laughed and lost the moment, but then she took his hand and guided him to where they were locked together.
“Touch me,” she whispered, pleading, and Anakin stroked his thumb over her and she just came apart.
Wow.
(~)
They woke in the middle of the night and did it all again.
~ ~ ~
Anakin stared at their linked fingers in the morning sunlight. That’s my wife.
“Ryn?”
She brushed her thumb across the back of his hand. “Yeah?”
“Last night,” he began, and then stopped because he didn’t know what to say.
“Yeah?” Ryn prompted him, eyebrows raised.
But in the end, all he could do was smile back at her, feeling his heart beat a little harder. “Yeah.”
Ryn kissed him anyway.
For
estora , even though this is so clearly not the fic she asked for. Makesh and his Echo pals will be making an appearance shortly. In the meantime, here is a fic. From the seriously ill-advised ahem!reboot.
~*~*~*~FIRST NIGHT~*~*~*~
They woke tangled in sheets.
Anakin lay still for a while, eyes closed, trying to remember why he felt so good.
Oh.
Last night.
His wedding night. Force.
He turned his head cautiously to find Ryn - my wife - already awake and watching him through her lashes.
“Hey,” she greeted him softly, her voice rough with sleep. A hesitant smile tugged uncertainly at the corners of her mouth.
“Hey,” Anakin answered, too burdened with feeling to say anything more insightful.
Their eyes met, questioning, and Ryn blushed fiercely and dropped her gaze.
But she was grinning, practically vibrating with joy in the Force.
Wow. I did that. Wow.
Anakin couldn’t think of anything to say - he’d said everything last night, without words - so he just lay still and watched his wife come to terms with the reality of married life.
Ryn reached out, still unsure of herself, and brushed the backs of his fingers with hers - so tentative - as if, after everything they’d done last night, this small intimacy might prove too much.
Anakin touched her in answer, making contact with the back of her hand in feather-light touches before linking their fingers together.
He heard Ryn’s breath catch and tightened his grip to lift their joined hands and study them in the morning sunlight, filtered through the curtains around their bed.
Last night ...
Admittedly, the first time hadn’t gone all that well. Or, okay, it had been amazing, but probably not for Ryn. After that ...
~ ~ ~
Apparently the Lorethans felt it took a village to get a man in bed. Evinne had rounded up Kit and Sarta and Sidhair and Obi-Wan and Mace Windu and Yoda and Gunryth, and together they had escorted Anakin to the bedchamber where Ryn was waiting. He could feel her presence as they ushered him inside, and it steadied him a little - however strange these wedding customs might be, Ryn at least was familiar.
“Areth’ryn, are you ready to receive your husband?” Evinne intoned somberly; but her eyes were twinkling in the candlelight.
Ryn’s voice came out muffled by the bedcurtains. “I don’t know about ready, but I’m definitely eager.”
That made even Windu smile.
“Anakin Skywalker, are you ready to take your wife?”
Anakin’s voice cracked over his answer: “I am.”
“Then go to her.” Evinne lowered her voice and leaned closer. “But take off your clothes first.”
Anakin stared at her in disbelief and Evinne sighed. “Look, our job is to confirm that the marriage has been consummated. Ryn insists that we can’t actually stay in the room, but we’re going to have to see you get in the bed. Just strip to your underwear and get in there.”
Anakin glanced around at the expectant Lorethan faces, caught Obi-Wan’s nod. Oh, fine. He hopped on one foot to remove his boots and kick out of them, dragged his shirt over his head, and had to laugh when Evinne and Gunryth both whooped in exaggerated appreciation.
“Not fair,” Ryn’s voice said plaintively. “I don’t get to peek.”
“You’ll get yours soon enough,” Evinne promised her, voice with rich with amusement. “Though I notice you are ignoring Gunryth’s advice about playing it cool.?
“If I played it cool, Anakin wouldn’t recognize me,” Ryn said, and Evinne snorted laughter.
“Give me your pants, Skywalker, before your bride strains something in anticipation.”
Anakin handed over his outer clothes and watched Evinne bundle them under one arm. She wrapped the other around his shoulders in a quick, fierce hug. “Have fun, kid,” she whispered, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek. “You both deserve it.” She backed away, her eyes suspiciously bright, and raised her voice. “Get in the bed, Skywalker, so we can get out of here.”
Anakin walked over to the bed, pushed the heavy curtains open. Found Ryn waiting for him, sitting up with the covers tucked around her bare shoulders.
Someone yelled: “Go on! Go for it!”
Ryn blushed and Anakin stepped inside.
They waited until the whoops had died down and everybody had left before trying to speak.
“So,” Anakin said finally, and Ryn shifted under the covers, plainly nervous.
“So,” she agreed, scooting over a little and turning back the covers for him. “Do you want to ... um ... close the curtain?”
“Oh,” said Anakin intelligently. “Sure.”
To pull the curtains shut he had to crawl onto the bed so that his body was out of the way, and that was a little awkward, but when the curtains were drawn it was dark, and he was in bed with Ryn. The darkness made it easier, somehow: he couldn’t see her, which was bad, because the glimpse he’d caught of her sitting in the moonlight had been breathtaking; but she couldn’t see him, either, which was good, because Anakin was pretty sure he looked like an idiot tonight.
He couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands - or anything else, really. He lay flat on his back with his elbows tucked into his sides and tried not to breathe too loud.
And then, in the darkness, Ryn reached out and took his hand.
Oh, he thought blankly. It’s Ryn.
The simple gesture of solidarity - no sex, not yet, just the friendship that had led them here, together - broke the fears that held him rigid against the sheets.
It’s just Ryn, he told himself, and turned to face her.
He could barely make out her face in the darkness, just a white blur. But it didn’t matter, because he could feel her everywhere.
“So,” he said awkwardly. “Should we ...?”
Ryn’s fingers tightened on his. “Only if you’re ready.”
And suddenly ... he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather be doing right now. I can’t wait, he thought, but the most he could force out of his dry throat as he reached for her was a single, hoarse word: “Yeah.”
Their first time was messy and awkward and painful, at least on Ryn’s end. They fumbled together in the darkness, laughing as knees and elbows got in the way, laughing again when they got it right.
Anakin was shaking by the time he pulled back from their kisses, stilling his hands on her hips, breathing hard. “Uh. Are you ...” he rubbed his thumb over the line of her hipbone, marking her “... ready?”
Ryn’s breath hitched. “Okay,” she said shakily, but her voice was pitched so high it almost came out as a question.
“Uh.” Of course she’s not ready, you idiot, what were you thinking, it’s going to hurt her, why would she want ... “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ... We can wait! As, uh, as long as you ...”
Ryn wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. “It’s fine,” she murmured, in between slow kisses. “I just ... I don’t want it to be over yet.” She drew back a little and trailed shaking fingers over his cheekbone. “Is that okay?”
Oh. Wow. Hey.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” Anakin whispered, and bent to trail kisses between her breasts.
That should have been good, but then he ruined it by having no idea what he was doing.
And being in a hurry.
And probably some other things Ryn never told him.
He was on the verge of disgracing himself all over the sheets when Ryn pushed him gently away. “Anakin?”
“Huh?” he gasped, distracted and half-panicked.
“Shhhh.” She spread her fingers against his chest, trembling against him. “I was just thinking.” That didn’t sound good. Anakin hadn’t been able to think since she shoved his underwear off. It didn’t seem fair for her to keep thinking without him. “We could ... ah ... we could probably do this more than once. I mean, if you wanted to ... go ahead ...” She pressed soft kisses under the line of his jaw, sucking gently. “I don’t mind.”
The words ... weren’t great. But it was the way she said them. The way she pulled him closer, just a little bit, and let him feel her eagerness.
It had to be said. “Ryn, I don’t ... we can wait,” Anakin stammered. “We -”
“Anakin, don’t wait,” Ryn whispered against his skin. “Take me now.”
He almost came right there.
But somehow he managed to roll over and drag Ryn under him, kneeing her legs apart. “Are you sure?” he croaked. Ran one hand up the inside of her thigh to touch her wetness. Oh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Ryn reached for him. “I’m ready,” she whispered, and Anakin kissed one updrawn knee.
“Okay.”
It wasn’t as easy as that, of course. A woman’s vagina is a very small target to hit in the dark, with one’s senses bewildered with desire. There was a lot of fumbling around before Anakin finally found her opening, and even then ...
“Are you sure?” he asked her again, pressing against her entrance. His hands were shaking so badly he had to tighten his grip on her.
Ryn put her hands on his hips and tugged gently. “I’m sure.”
Anakin felt her tear and flinched in sympathy. “Sorry,” he mumbled against her mouth, trying to kiss away the pain.
But Ryn just ran her hands down his back - igniting his nerves, drawing him deeper. “Come on,” she urged him, breathless. “I want you.”
It was over embarrassingly fast. Anakin came with a strangled shriek - not very manly - and collapsed on top of her. That was rude, he’d remember later, but Ryn didn’t seem to mind. He could feel her smile as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
“Yeah?” she asked him softly.
Anakin was still trying to remember how to breathe, but he clutched her tighter and choked out some utterly incoherent noises of appreciation.
Ryn laughed and trailed her fingers over his sweat-slicked skin. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Anakin nodded enthusiastically, almost banging his chin against her forehead. “Good,” he gasped. “Very good.”
He slid out of her - Ryn’s breath hitched sharply as he withdrew - and rolled away, exhausted, to study her in the moonlight that filtered through their curtains.
My wife. Wow. That’s my wife.
He leaned over her on one elbow, tracing lazy circles over her belly with his fingertips. “Are you okay?” he asked her uncertainly. “Do you ... need anything?”
Ryn arched against his fingers. “I like what you’re doing now,” she suggested, grinning up at him, and Anakin wrapped his fingers in the curve of her waist to draw her closer.
“You’ll like this, too.”
(~)
Ryn did like that, too. In fact ... Ryn liked pretty much everything he did. She writhed and twisted in his hands, laughing when it was too much and he lost his grip on her. She pushed him down and straddled him so she could lick her way down his chest, fingers digging into his skin as she held on tight. She shrieked when he fought back and wrestled her under him to pin her against the bed and buried his face in the curve where neck and shoulder met, sucking gently at the sensitive skin there.
They sat up in the darkness, touching each other, seeking out the nerves that elicited a sigh. Sometimes they found nerves that drew squeals of laughter instead, which was embarrassing but ... fun.
Their second time together, Ryn came.
It almost didn’t happen. Anakin flinched when she nudged him back and straddled him this time, sensing she wanted more than just to tease him with kisses. Something clenched in his gut and he tried to sit up, unaccountably tense.
Ryn eased back a little. “Anakin?”
He pushed her gently away. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, trying to kiss her.
Ryn touched his cheek, turning his face to the light. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said softly.
Ouch. “You didn’t frighten me.”
Of course Ryn didn’t believe him. “Anakin.”
He sighed, his arousal wilting a little. “I’m fine, Ryn.”
She kissed him lightly on the mouth. “You really like to be in charge, don’t you?” she murmured.
“Ryn ...”
“Sh, it’s okay.” She kissed him again. “I don’t have to be on top.” She leaned back, and he heard her breath hitch.
He stretched over her, finding her entrance with his fingers. “Mmm.” He tried stroking her gently, feeling her tremble at his touch, but Ryn closed her fingers over his and pushed his hand away.
“Anakin,” she said softly, “don’t tease.”
Anakin froze. “What?”
“Just go ahead,” she whispered. “Okay?”
“Um,” Anakin said, feeling that this welcome was a little cooler than before but not sure how to ask her what the hell she was thinking. “Okay.” He nudged his way inside gently, feeling her stretch for him, stroking the curve of her hip in appreciation. “‘S good,” he muttered, shuddering as she tightened around him.
“Good,” Ryn answered, resting her hands on his shoulders. “I’m glad you like it.”
He rocked into her, trying to go easy. “Are you ... sore?”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Ryn assured him. She grinned and touched his cheek with her fingertips. “Go for it.”
He tried thrusting a little deeper, waiting for ... something. A gasp, a sigh, a moan. Some sign that Ryn was enjoying this as much as he was.
Or at all.
But Ryn just lay still, cradling his weight between her raised knees, running her fingers up and down his arms.
He ducked, putting a kink in his back to nuzzle the sensitive spot in the curve of her neck. “Ryn. Mmmph. Come on, Sweetheart.” He ran his hands over her skin, trying to get back her little shivers of appreciation. “Come on.” He buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent, trying to figure out what he was doing wrong. “Good, you ... you feel good.” Come on, come with me this time ...
Ryn stroked his shoulders lightly. “I’m glad you like it.”
Anakin growled in frustration, pressing into her a little harder. “I want you to like it,” he muttered, tracing the shape of her body with his hands. He blushed, but he said it anyway: “I want to make this good for you.”
“Anakin ...”
He couldn’t quite make himself meet her eyes, but he managed to whisper the words into her hair: “Just tell me what to do. Please.”
He heard Ryn’s sharp intake of breath. “Oh. Wow. You’re ... really good.”
“I’m trying.”
It took a while for them to find their rhythm together, but finally Anakin found an angle that made Ryn cry out and clutch him tighter.
“Do that again!” she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “That ... rocking thing.”
He braced one hand on the mattress for a better grip and used the other to lift her hips toward him, rocking back and forth while Ryn whimpered his name, over and over again. And then it still wasn’t perfect, she kept writhing under him, trying to get more, and without thinking Anakin found himself twisting to roll her on top of him so she could grind down yes there like that and rock her hips against his, dancing in the moonlight.
“Yes,” he panted, arching into her to make her gasp and shudder. “Like that?”
Ryn moaned something that might have been a yes, moving faster now. “Anakin ...”
“Right here.” Trying desperately not to come just yet. “Force, that’s good. Come on, now. Just let go.”
“I’m ... trying!”
“There is no try!” Anakin gritted, grabbing her hips to hold her tighter, and Ryn laughed and lost the moment, but then she took his hand and guided him to where they were locked together.
“Touch me,” she whispered, pleading, and Anakin stroked his thumb over her and she just came apart.
Wow.
(~)
They woke in the middle of the night and did it all again.
~ ~ ~
Anakin stared at their linked fingers in the morning sunlight. That’s my wife.
“Ryn?”
She brushed her thumb across the back of his hand. “Yeah?”
“Last night,” he began, and then stopped because he didn’t know what to say.
“Yeah?” Ryn prompted him, eyebrows raised.
But in the end, all he could do was smile back at her, feeling his heart beat a little harder. “Yeah.”
Ryn kissed him anyway.