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This story is rated NC-17. Please stop now if you're under 17 or sensative to adult-themed material..
Han Solo sat on his temporary bunk in his temporary quarters, at a loss, for once in his life, as to what to do next. Staring at his sterile surroundings, he fleetingly wished he was back on the Falcon, secure in his cramped, private, smelly cabin, but Leia had insisted he stay on the Headquarters Frigate for a few days so he could be checked out by the medics. He suspected she also wanted to keep a close eye on him, and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to argue with her, especially since he liked the idea of her being nearby.
Although, she wasn’t here now. In fact, they hadn’t been alone together for one minute since he’d been...well, thawed out, and he was becoming increasingly worried that she might be avoiding him. He didn’t even know how long he’d been in hibernation—no one had bothered to share that little tidbit of information. Who knew what went on while he was hanging on Jabba’s wall? Maybe she’d come to her senses and changed her mind about him, realized she could do better than a scruffy-looking pirate with nothing to offer except a beat-up ship and the clothes on his back.
She and Luke had seemed awful chummy before they left Tatooine.
He pushed the thought aside, trying to convince himself it was unworthy of her. She had said she loved him. He knew that she did. Did. But what about now?
Someone who loves you.
Well, sure, she’d said that. But what if she was just taking pity on a shaking, soaking-wet, miserable blind man?
He rubbed his face tiredly. This whole carbon freeze business had thrown him more than he wanted to admit. When he tried to concentrate on the sequence of events, dredging up the unpleasant memories, the last distinct image he remembered before the darkness was the sight of Leia’s face as she watched him descend to an uncertain fate. She had looked beautiful even then, despite the pain in her eyes and the despair etched in her expression. Then there was a deafening noise, and a rush of agony—
And the next thing he knew Leia was beside him again, holding him while he trembled with hibernation sickness, as if no time had passed in the interim. He tried to latch on to something, some sensation or glimpse of memory, but there was only a frustrating void.
Thrown in to the mix was his astonishment at the way his friends had all banded together to rescue him. Never had he imagined anyone being able to feel that way about him, with the possible exception of Chewie, who was, after all, bound to him by a life debt. Hell, even Lando had pitched in, and Lando was one of the most self-absorbed people Han had ever encountered. And as for Leia—to know that she had put herself at risk for him, suffered for him….
His resolve hardened. If she didn’t want to see him, too bad. He had to see her, talk to her, touch her. He got up off the bunk and hit the door panel—
—and the door slid open to reveal Leia standing there. She jerked her head up, startled by his timing.
“Hey,” she said softly. She took his breath away, even when dressed in simple gray military breeches and a light blue shirt. Her hair was braided and gathered in a small bun at the nape of her neck.
“Hey yourself.” He took a step back to allow her inside, and the door slid shut behind her.
And then, finally, they were alone. It took a moment for it to sink in, but then they both realized it at the same time, and shared a slow smile. The awkwardness in the air dissipated, leaving behind that almost palpable electricity that was always so present between them. Without a word Han took Leia into his arms and held her so tightly that he dimly wondered how she could still breathe. But instead of protesting, she wrapped her arms around his waist, clutching his back through the fabric of his shirt, and he hardened slightly at the warm, soft feel of her body against his. He ran his hands over her body, assuring himself that she was really here with him, touching her back, her shoulders, her hips.
She looked up at him with those liquid brown eyes, opened her mouth to speak. “Han…”
He silenced her with a kiss, pressing his mouth to hers tentatively, hoping she would let him in. To his delight she responded hungrily, slipping her tongue inside his mouth and reaching up to pull his head down closer to her. He drank in her breath, feeling as if he could devour her with the force of his wanting. He could feel the desire shimmering off of her, too, knew she was as turned on as he was, that she needed him as desperately as he needed her. The urgency between them grew as he tore his mouth from hers and moved to her neck, tasting that sweet, smooth skin, taking the delicate flesh between his teeth and sucking hard. She let out a low moan as his hand brushed against her breast.
Damn, she felt so good, too good. He wanted her beneath him, surrounding him, wanted to be inside her more than anything. He slipped his hand underneath her shirt, found her breast again, and she sighed shakily.
Reality rudely intruded on his arousal with the force of a crashing asteroid. What the hell did he think he was doing, here? He wondered uneasily if corrupting a princess had been a capital offense on Alderaan. Suddenly uncertain, and disgusted with himself for perhaps pushing her too far, he pulled away from her.
“What is it?” she asked, short of breath. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked at him curiously. He wanted her so bad he thought he would scream, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, take advantage of her. He didn’t want her to think she’d be just another tumble, another conquest. Not after all she had done for him. She deserved better than that.
“I want you,” he said simply. He caressed her cheek with the palm of his hand, forced himself to say the words. “But I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later.”
Confusion sparked in her eyes. “Han, what I want is to be with you.” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him gently, brushing his lips with hers, then placing small kisses on his chin, his cheek, his nose, making him lightheaded. “I can hardly believe that we got you back, that you’re here with me…”
“How long was I out of it?” he demanded, pulling away from her again. Why the hell wouldn’t anyone just tell him?
She hesitated before answering, trying to protect him, no doubt. “A few months.”
Months? The walls closed in on him and his legs suddenly felt weak. “Months?” He stumbled over to the bunk and sat down. She was immediately beside him, running her fingers through his hair soothingly.
“Well, we needed time to formulate a plan,” she began to explain. “Lando and Chewie had to do some reconnoitering, and then Luke—”
“I’m not blaming you, Leia,” he interrupted impatiently. “It’s just…it’s weird. What happened on Bespin…for me, it’s like that happened yesterday. There’s nothing but a big blank between then and now.”
“That must feel strange,” she sympathized. “You know, we have experts who can help you with what you’re going through...” He gave her a look. “Right. I forgot who I was talking to,” she teased. Then her face grew serious again. “Maybe what you need is some rest…”
“Rest? Apparently that’s all I’ve been doing for months! No thanks,” he said bitterly. He looked down at his fists, which were clenching and unclenching seemingly of their own volition. “All that time I’ll never get back. That bloated, slimy son of a bitch. And when I think about...” He searched her face, his heart pounding, needing to know, but not wanting to hear it. “What did Jabba do to you? Did he…”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, not looking at him. “I’ve been through worse.”
“That’s not a good answer,” he said grimly. Leia expended so much energy trying to be strong, it was a wonder she hadn’t collapsed from the strain of it by now. And yet, that strength of spirit was one of the things he loved about her.
“Han, he didn’t—he didn’t do much. I won’t lie and say it was pleasant, but compared to Vader…” She shuddered, and he pulled her close once more, placing a tender kiss on the top of her head, wishing he could take all of her pain into himself. It was a new emotion for him, and he mulled it over for a bit, trying it out.
“It was hell not knowing if I’d ever see you again,” she said finally, her voice muffled by his chest.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said, meaning it. “And I know… well, it’s been a long time, and things change...” This is your out, Leia, he thought. Take it now…
She looked up at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Nothing’s changed, Captain.” Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him entreatingly, and coherent thought abandoned him.
Tenderness once again swiftly turned to passion as their need for each other escalated. His hands caressed her breasts and she tugged at his shirt until he allowed her to slip it over his head and toss it aside. The feel of her bare hands against his chest made him dizzy. This sure as hell wasn’t the same woman who had kissed him closed-mouthed on the Falcon—was it really months ago? No, this was a woman who was claiming what was hers, what had been taken from her. A woman who needed him at that moment just as much as he needed her. Who needed to feel alive, to feel safe, if only for a short time.
She didn’t protest as he manipulated the fastenings of her shirt and slipped it off of her, then did the same with her bra. He kissed her neck, her shoulders, her clavicles, then she arched against him as he bent his head and took one pale nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, teasing it with his tongue as his hand cupped her breast firmly. He gently eased her back onto the bunk and covered her with his body, then continued to linger at her breasts, suckling one nipple, then the other, until she was moaning softly beneath him.
But she didn’t say no. Instead she reached up to caress his cheek with a trembling hand and looked at him with that razor-sharp intensity of hers that he knew and loved. “I want to forget, Han,” she said huskily. “Make me forget everything but this, I don’t want to know anything else right now…”
He answered her with a rough kiss that she returned eagerly, then slipped her pants and undergarments off of her, leaving them in a careless pile on the floor. She closed her eyes, embarrassed, as he drank in the sight of her laid bare to him. She was as radiant as he’d fantasized she would be.
“Don’t be nervous, Princess,” he whispered. “You’re beautiful…” In an attempt to make her more comfortable he placed feathery kisses along her hairline, on her nose, her forehead, and she relaxed a little, sighing luxuriously.
With deliberate motions his mouth traveled along the length of her body, down her neck, past her breasts, anointing her abdomen, her thighs, eliciting soft gasps of pleasure from her. The normally controlled and composed princess was now writhing beneath him, her flushed face tossing from side to side, and the knowledge that he was responsible for her ecstasy excited him tremendously. He had always known a molten core burned beneath that frigid facade, and it drove him wild to finally experience that ardor firsthand.
Unable to resist doing so, he placed his mouth between her thighs and began to explore those soft, intricate folds of flesh with his tongue. She hissed, a harsh intake of breath, and let out a surprised moan, then placed her legs over his shoulders, urging him to continue. He nibbled, teased, tasted her until she was sighing and whispering his name. He found her swollen nub and teased it with his tongue, then took it into his mouth, sucking on it strongly. A sharp sound escaped from the back of her throat.
At her strangled request he ceased his ministrations and stood up briefly to slip out of his own breeches before rejoining her on the bunk. He was so hard it hurt, but he wanted to try to take things slow for her. He met her eyes, saw nothing there but desire and love…and trust. When was the last time a woman had trusted him, if ever? He smiled reassuringly, and was relieved to see her smile back. For crying out loud, he was as nervous as she was, and he was no virgin. She was just so tiny beneath him: not fragile—the thought of Leia as fragile made him want to laugh—but so small…he didn’t want to hurt her. Knowing that he probably couldn’t hold out much longer as it was, he lifted her hips and slowly eased himself into
Oh man she was so tight and hot, he was going to lose it right away for sure, nice way to show a girl a good time, Solo...
Leia let out a choked sob, then bit her lip and reached up for him. He kissed her lovingly as he began to move inside of her, carefully, trying not to hurt her further. A sense of unreality descended upon him; were they actually doing this? I’m fucking a Princess, he thought crazily, and bit back the inappropriate laughter that threatened to bubble up inside of him. He concentrated instead on the feel of her soft, warm flesh surrounding him, the way she was rising up to meet each of his thrusts. His desire for her had been intense since the moment he met her, but right now it was absolutely maddening. “Leia,” he said in between gasps, “I want you so much, more than anyone ever, you gotta know that…”
She kissed him in answer, beyond words, and arched up against him, tilting her hips to take him further inside of her, locking her feet at the small of his back. He groaned and speeded up his thrusts, the standard-issue bunk beneath them rocking with their increasingly frantic movements. His mouth latched onto her breast and she buried her fingers in his hair. Sensing that he was dangerously close to the brink, he began to stroke her with his fingers in time with his thrusts, hoping to bring her to release before he lost it himself.
“Oh...” she whispered fiercely. “Yes...” And then she was convulsing around him, beneath him, digging her nails into his shoulder and letting out a throaty cry. He covered her mouth with his and swallowed her wordless exclamations of pleasure. A few more wild thrusts and he plunged over the edge and emptied himself into her, a deep groan he barely recognized as his own escaping from the back of his throat as the sensations enveloped him.
When it was over, he stayed inside of her for a while longer, breathing hard, his head pillowed on her breast, as she smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead. Finally, reluctantly, he withdrew from her and lay down beside her, taking her in his arms. They shared a long, slow kiss.
“Not bad, huh, Your Highness?” he said when their lips parted, unable to stop the stupid grin from spreading across his face. He couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so giddy.
She smirked. “You’ll do.”
“Gee, thanks.” He pinched her bottom and laughed appreciatively when she pinched him back. You’ve met your match, Solo, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Because without her… He didn’t even finish the thought, just wrapped his arms more tightly around her. She burrowed against his chest invitingly, pressing tiny kisses in his chest hair. It tickled, but he forced himself not to squirm. “Leia?”
She ceased the lip action and looked up at him. Strands of her brown hair had come loose from the braids, and they framed her face delicately.
“You okay with this? No regrets?”
She was silent for a time, her brow creased, and his heart sank. He knew it. He had pushed her too far, and now she was cursing herself for getting it on with a guy who was nothing but a no-good smuggler...
She said it so softly he almost didn’t hear her. “Are you sure?”
She traced his nipple with her finger before answering. “I wanted you, Han, just as much as you wanted me. I…I needed this, to feel this with you, especially when we don’t know what lies ahead of us. My only regret is that we didn’t do this before…before Bespin.” She propped herself up on his chest so that she could meet his eyes more easily. “What about you?”
“Leia...” He didn’t know where to begin. So many emotions were stirred up inside of him, and he didn’t even recognize half of them. “That was incredible,” he said finally, knowing the words were wholly inadequate.
She looked embarrassed again, averting her eyes, and the familiar spots of pink appeared on her cheeks. “Really? I’m obviously not very experienced, and—”
He pulled her closer and cut her off with a kiss, to show her that none of that mattered. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, Princess,” he said matter-of-factly when the kiss ended. “I knew it from the first day we met, although I’d have tongue-kissed a Tauntaun before admitting it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now that I would have liked to see.”
He chuckled. This was the woman he had fallen head over heels in love with against his will and in spite of his pride. “You probably would have sold tickets,” he told her.
“It could have been a fund-raiser,” she said, grinning.
“Anything for the Rebellion, right, Your Highness?” It was a retort he had used sarcastically often enough in the past, but he knew that this time he meant it sincerely, affectionately. He loved her, and the Rebellion was an intrinsic, important part of who she was, after all. It made him want to give something back to the Alliance, as a way of giving something back to her. He resolved to approach Mon Mothma or Crix Madine the next day about doing just that.
She smiled at him again. He didn’t think he’d seen her smile as much as she had this afternoon in all the time he’d known her. It gave him immeasurable satisfaction to know those smiles were meant only for him. “Shut up and kiss me, nerfherder,” she commanded, with an ironic hint of her usual regal bearing.
He complied eagerly, but as she wrapped her arms around his neck an image popped unbidden into his mind. Leia giving Luke a tender kiss on the cheek before Luke separated from them on Tatooine, headed for who knew where. He had been in hibernation for an awful long time…
He tried not to think about it and turned his attention to nuzzling her neck. “Tell me you love me,” he said urgently against her ear, needing to hear her say it.
“I love you,” she whispered, tightening her embrace.
And that will have to be enough, Han thought. It has to be.