Master Apprentice Archive Say When ... Quick search:

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Archive: M_A. Others please ask. Also archived at http://www.jediphiles.com/index69.htm

Series: sequel to "If Only ..."

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: none

Category: PWP

Summary: The previous story, "If Only ..." was an answer to the opening line challenge: "My Padawan talks dirty to me."   This sequel is dedicated to all you who said, "But where's the rest of it?" This one tried to develop a plot, but I beat it down. There will absolutely, unequivocally, NOT be a sequel to this.

Disclaimer: George Lucas is da man. He owns everything. We just play.

"Ah, Master. If only you could attract the _unmarried_ ones!"

I sigh. _If only ..._

Something shatters in me. I've been suffering for more than three years, pretending not to be affected by this little game of yours. You've touched me, flirted with me, tantalized me with glimpses of your youthful, perfect body, and damn near driven me out of my mind with desire, all the while torturing me by taking a variety of other partners to your bed at every opportunity. You seem to enjoy teasing me, making me uncomfortable, knowing I will shy away or pretend not to notice. Well, no more. It is time I called your bluff. 

"If only ..." I say slowly, deliberately stepping forward into your personal space and giving you a hooded stare. "Is that an invitation, Padawan?"

You beam a grin at me, a challenge, a riposte. There is no fear in you ... why should there be? I have always backed down before, turned away with a smile, pretended our flirtation was only in jest.

I raise a hand and brush my knuckles down your cheek, slowly, lingeringly. I see the startlement flicker in your eyes for a split second, feel your uncertainty along our training bond. Then the insouciance is back. If I had not been looking I might have missed it altogether.

"I'll wager you'll back down before I will," you say, throwing down a gauntlet -- one that I have never been willing to take up. Until now.

This time, I will not be the first to say When.

My hand moves to cup your chin. I brush a thumb across your lips, and they part for me. Your green eyes glitter with mirth, and the tip of your pink tongue flicks out to touch the pad with dampness. My already aching groin twitches in response. You seem wholly willing, and it unsettles me. _Is it possible ... ?_ There is only one way to find out. I will press and press until you make me stop or ... _Force,_ even the thought of it is enough to take my breath away ... or until I have taken you, tasted you, possessed you inside and out, and made you mine, body and soul.

My thumb strokes down into that irresistible cleft in your chin. My other hand reaches up to sift fingers through your short, russet hair. Your eyes drift closed, and a sensual moan grumbles in your throat.

I lean forward and brush my mouth against your ear. "You have been a very naughty Padawan," I whisper. I can very nearly taste the heat from your body, the musk and spice of your skin.

"Are you going to punish me?" you ask huskily. The corners of your mouth are turned up into an impish smile. Oh, what a temptation it is to simply devour you. But I will go slowly. I will give you time and space to pull away. Yet I will not back down. One way or another, this game ends here and now.

You are standing very still, but your breathing has become erratic. I press closer until my arousal is unmistakable, hot and hard against your taut belly. I feel an answering hardness against the top of my thigh and bite back a groan. I let my hands slide down onto your shoulders and pull you closer still. My tongue slips along the shell of your ear, and you gasp.

"No punishment," I whisper. "Nothing you don't want. I will stop any time you ask. But not before. This time, you must be the one to say When."

I move my mouth to the tender skin of your neck. The slightest touch of my teeth sends a shudder through you. Your hands convulse, leaping to bury themselves in my hair, and we are both lost.

I scatter kisses and bites on your throat, your cheeks, your eyebrows, every exposed bit of skin, finally alighting on your wet, willing mouth. Your lips flower open under mine, and I stroke my tongue inside, insistently, tasting and possessing. Your hands drop away from my head and slide down my sides to cup my buttocks, driving our groins together. I swallow your moans of need and give back my own. We are struggling now, fighting to get closer, wrenching at the complicated system of tunics and sashes until -- bliss! -- our hands are stroking bare chests, tweaking puckered nipples, dipping into waistbands to caress trembling flanks and weeping erections.

With considerably more violence than necessary I kick off my boots, never breaking contact with your pliant, swollen mouth. Your tongue is delving into me now, thrusting with insistent rhythm. Your hands are all over me. _Force_ ... I may come just from this. Forget slow. I need to be in you _now_; I can think of nothing else but burying my bursting cock in your hot, tight, magnificent body.

I tumble you onto a divan, work your pants and boots off with one hand while using my mouth to explore every inch of you. At last we are both naked. I slither down and without preamble take your swollen cock into my mouth, all the way to the root. On my knees now, I work the head of your penis with my throat muscles, using one hand to caress your sac and the other to tweak a plump nipple. The broken gasps you are making only fuel my desire.

I feel your balls contract, your penis grow even stiffer, and I draw back, bringing you to thrashing, screaming completion with my hand. Your ejaculate splashes onto your belly, and I gather it into my palm, slather it over my cock. I turn your now-limp body over and shove a pillow beneath you.

The touch of a semen-slick finger to your tight opening elicits a moan from you. I press inside, using a touch of Force to ensure there is no pain, only pleasure. Your groans become louder, and then I hear a whispered plea that causes stars to dance before my eyes.

"Take me. Oh, Master ... please ... take me."

I oblige, pushing the head of my cock past the tight ring of muscle, and I have to stop and take a series of deep breaths lest I explode. You thrust back against me and I begin to move. Slowly at first, then faster and harder as your moans spur me on. I want to be inside you, to drive myself all the way in until there is nothing left of me. This joining of bodies is not enough, and I reach out with my mind as well, pouring out my love and longing, and damn the consequences. _Oh, but this is so good, and you are so beautiful to me. I love you, Obi-Wan. You are my light. You are everything that is good and right. Thank you, thank you, for being by my side, for letting me love you. Oh, Force ... you are so hot, so tight ... I can't ... I need ... oh, wait, wait ... aaaghhh ... I love you, Padawan ..._

My body convulses in the strongest climax of my life. As I pour my seed into you, I feel your body tighten with your own climax. A white-hot wave of love and pleasure splashes over us both, and I know nothing more for a time.

I slowly come back to my senses to find I am crushing you beneath me. Your chest seems to be heaving for breath. I realize you are sobbing, and I am suddenly terrified. _Oh, what have I done?_

Then I hear the words, coming to me across the bond. _It's okay. I love you, Master. I never knew. I never knew ..._

_Obi-Wan?_

_Yes, Master?_

Wonder and dismay war in my heart as I realize what we have done. We must both have wanted it for it to happen, but still ... I would not have wished this on you. _You can hear me._

_Yes, Master. And I could see you, too, if you'd be so kind as to get your massive body off of me._ Even across the bond I can "see" your impish grin.

I roll onto my side and you turn to face me, snuggle your head beneath my chin and wrapped your arms around me. _Bonded?_ you ask, not at all dismayed.

I find myself grinning idiotically. _Yes, naughty Padawan._

I feel a hint of trepidation from you. _You don't mind?_

I sigh. _It's ... lovely, and wonderful, and so much more than I ever expected or hoped for or deserve, but ..._

_But?_ I sense real fear now, and a determined firming of shields in preparation for rejection.

I soothe you with my hands, stroking along your back. _But ... I am thirty-five years your senior, and your Master. Are you sure YOU don't mind?_

_How could I? I have dreamed of this for so long ..._

_Really?_ I chuckle. _I get the feeling I've just been manipulated._ I feel the tension drain from you, the shields relaxing away. We are so open to each other now. That will take some getting used to. I yawn, tucking your head further under my chin. You yawn as well, and I feel a wash of sleepy contentment over the newly formed soulbond. The Council will probably flay the skin from my bones, but at the moment I'd gladly suffer that and more to have the pleasure of naked, sated Padawan in my arms.

After a little while, I hear your faint voice whisper, "Master?"

"Yes, love."

"You know what the best part is?"

"What?"

"Now I'll never have to say When." 

END