I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes until I tell them to.
Year 7
———
Kat
I can't pinpoint exactly when I realized something was wrong. After I mostly destroyed my father's old complex, Anakin dressed me in the dark and carried me out of it, then walked home with me.
And I haven't heard from him since. It's been almost seven months. Even Lord Vader seems to be avoiding me.
Sometime between then and now, it began to feel purposeful. Vader usually did quarterly check-ins with me during the periods he was gone more frequently—he hasn't. Perhaps he found out about me and Anakin and is mad at me. I don't know.
But I think I'm...depressed. I feel how I did after James was killed. I can't create, haven't been able to work on my side work for months. I can't sleep. Something just feels wrong. What if something happens to one of them? Will anyone even tell me?
So, when my datapad pings with an order to go to the throne room, a million thoughts begin to fight for dominance in my mind. Many of the possibilities are not good, but the relief is unmistakable. The message is from Vader, not Anakin, but I don't even care. I just hope this insane silent treatment is over. Maybe I'm taking it personally when it has nothing to do with me...
But I can't shake the feeling that something happened between Anakin and myself that day in the complex. I had felt so fractured...and it was like he gave me a part of himself, trying to glue my broken pieces together. I just can't help but wonder if he hadn't actually had anything to give, and had given too much as a result.
With precision, I shake my thoughts away and glance in the mirror to make sure my face doesn't reveal my conflict. I look a touch tired, but with a straightened spine and some adjustments to my face, I look fine.
The lift feels slower than usual. I spend the time trying to empty my mind, a part of me wishing a Jedi could teach me meditation. Surely someone like me could still achieve a quiet mind.
My shoes are mostly silent as I approach the throne. He's facing away, staring outside the long windows.
"My lord, welcome home," I say and begin to bow—but his hand shoots out, already telling me to rise.
It's like, a whole dang minute before he turns to stare down at me. I quickly take in his appearance: nothing looks out of place, no damage to his suit.
"You are done distracting my apprentice, I see."
Shit. He knows. That's why he's been gone, too. He's avoiding me. Me! Why? If he is truly mad at me, why would he not punish me? Why avoid me?
My heart increases to a speed that would probably alarm a doctor. I don't have an answer, but he goes on when I don't reply.
"It is for the best. He has more important things to worry about than you. Now, if he steps foot near you again, it will be the last thing he ever does."
I can't look at him. I can't be the reason Anakin dies.
But also—what the fuck? Kill me, not Anakin!
He flips around to face away again, his cloak swooshing in the quiet room.
I am grateful he retreated because I feel sick by his presence. How dare he act as if Anakin's life can just be thrown away. I can't find the words, but he must feel something from me because his next words are a punch to my gut.
"You would choose him over me?" he asks in a voice so quiet that the modulation barely picks it up, and for a moment, I think of Anakin.
"My lord," I try, but it falls flat. I don't want to lie to him, really, but I can't tell him the truth that if Vader really decides to kill him, I will go to great, unimaginable lengths to stop him. I am no Force user, but I'm growing angry. Who is he to make me choose when I've been nothing but loyal to both? Does he not know I'm working on his modifications? That the Emperor himself ordered it?
When he just stands there, his back to me, I almost take a step forward. It is a pull I don't understand. I hate him, and yet, there is some part of me that cares for him.
He wouldn't kill Anakin, right? If we can't be together, fine—but I was helping him. He would deny his apprentice's needs? Because why? Jealousy?
Something feels...off. I'm trying to place it, but it's hard to focus on anything other than controlling my rising irritation.
"He has done nothing against you," I finally answer. "It would be more than just inconvenient to kill him, my lord. It's like sacrificing a son." I almost whisper the last sentence, and a curious thought came along with it, that my father sacrificed me. It isn't accurate, but there is something in it that rings true.
He turns around, but he doesn't approach.
"My apprentice is merely a foolish child with the dreams to match," Vader snarls. My brows pinch together. Anakin is a lot of things but a foolish child? I don't agree.
"Something to say?" His modulated voice rings out.
I don't want to create a rift between them. Maybe he is just taunting me. Maybe he loves Anakin. Regardless, I need to get a grip on my emotions. I will not be the reason their relationship goes downhill, nor will I be the reason Anakin gets hurt.
"I think he would die for you, sir," I say in a soft voice. I don't know why, but it makes him go quiet. He seems to shrink away, though that isn't an accurate thing to say about this massive figure.
"Explain." My frown deepens. Is it not obvious? I know they're dark lords and all, but come on.
"He uh, I think he respects you more than anything, my lord. Everything he does is for you, he would sacrifice himself without any hesitation if it meant you lived. If it meant you won." He hates Palpatine, not Vader. I've never heard him say anything negative about his master.
He is silent for so long that I finally look up at his mask.
"Get out," he growls. What? Why does his dismissal hurt?
"I—"
He seems to double in size at my hesitation to follow an order, and I'm spinning before he can open his mouth, my breath turning cold.
"Leave! Before I make you leave, Kitten," he snarls, full of anger.
I freeze.
He does too, but I don't notice.
I blink. He called me Kitten. Not just that—despite his mask's modulation, he sounded like him. The double t was like his tongue snapped, just like Anakin's does.
He wouldn't tell me his name.
I never see them together.
In the lift, all those years ago when he spanked me until I came, he called it his lift.
His trophy room.
He said he could make me come from across the palace, yet Vader appears in my room. He appears in my room.
The way he'd been so intense on learning about my loyalties. The way he wanted me on his desk after my speech.
Vader said no man could touch me, but until now, never mentioned Anakin touching me.
His suit! It keeps him alive! The bacta tank that he needs—it's simply another alternative to his suit. That's why I haven't been able to crack the suit. Critical information has been kept from me.
My eyes close, pushing tears down my cheeks while the whole galaxy seems to close in around me.
The way I feel drawn to Vader—shit, my loyalty in general. Have I always known? Has there been a piece of me that knew this truth the moment those yellow eyes met mine?
Stars, Palpatine knew! The way he sneered the two names. He was mocking my ignorance. He called Anakin his apprentice. I thought it was just loose semantics.
That's why I wasn't allowed near him after his crash. Why I sometimes get a fluttering feeling with Vader—why I feel close to Vader when I thought I didn't know him that well.
Slowly, I turn, part of me wondering if I'm going faint. When I see him, his helmet in his hand, the black suit of Vader on Anakin's body, my world crumbles. My knees try to buckle, but I refuse to fall, causing an unusual jerking motion.
He smiles at me though, cold and humorless. "You can look at me with those sad fucking kitten eyes all you want, little one." He tosses his helmet next to his ugly throne and steps closer.
I'm going to be sick. I feel the tears on my cheeks, but never felt their burn behind my eyes. "But the fear you have of me...in this form..." I hear his inhalation when he pauses. "It is...exhilarating."
He stops before me, and I feel what he craves from me. I'm turned on, but I am far more scared of him than I've ever been. I can't even comprehend the full gravity of this revelation. I want to run away but I am frozen.
His hand grips my neck, and it isn't the sexy, precise chokehold I was growing to like. It is mean, angry. "And then you do things like call your fucking droid by my name, and clean up my messes without batting a perfect fucking green eye." Every time he curses, he seethes the word, but he finally lets up enough for me to gasp in a breath. "And damnit, Kitten, you try to defend me to 'Vader'? Are you out of your fucking mind?" He practically screeches the last word and shoves me away.
I fall to my butt and was going to scramble up to my feet, but he takes a step toward me, towering over me. He is angry and the air feels heavy and I am so, so scared. I back away, shuffling on my palms and butt, but he matches my pace, taunting me.
"What am I saying, of course you are. I feel you. When I come to you as Vader." I hit the wall and try to somehow get even closer to it, maybe I will crumble through and fall to my death. "You are excited."
He kneels in front of me, and the heat in his stare is almost painful. For a moment, just a second, my fear morphs into grief. I want to take his pain, bottle it up and run to the edges of the galaxy where he can never find it. But the moment doesn't last.
Vader backs up and the Force wraps around my whole body, bringing the terror right back to the top, and I taste bile. I wish he would just kill me.
I don't know when I close my eyes, but one moment I'm flying through the air, and the next, I'm sitting on something.
No.
My eyes snap open—please do not be his...
Oh, no. It's his throne beneath me. Oh gods, now I know I will be dying. One does not sit upon someone's throne without consequences.
I almost beg him not to kill me here. Anywhere else but this chair. I can't even explain why, but the thought devastates me.
This all processes in an instant, but then, before I can say or do anything, he kisses me.
His lips are larger than mine, dominant and passionate. My panties pool almost immediately because he was right, he does excite me. It isn't...soft, but it isn't punishing, either. Some twisted part of me is not at all disappointed by this, having been far too curious about Darth Vader.
His hands go up to my head and I twitch, expecting to be yanked back or...something painful. And though the grip on the sides of my face and into my hair is tight and just as possessive as the kiss, there is no pain.
I almost let myself fall into it, let myself connect with him the only way I know how. But then the cold throne returns to my mind.
"Stop," I say into his kiss, and he freezes. I shutter, my breath shaky.
"Because, because I'm Vader," he says against my lips, barely a sound at all.
"No," I shake my head aggressively. Ah, but that really should be the reason, shouldn't it? "No, no," I stumble out. "It's," I look down, suddenly understanding why I don't want to die here, and why I don't want to fuck here either. "It's the throne."
He pulls back an inch, and I comprehend he is on his knees. What the fucking fuck is happening? I swear my heart might beat out of my chest as I take in Darth Vader kneeling before me. His eyebrows furrow—and I need to go. I need to escape, to process, to think.
"It is my throne," he replies as if genuinely confused. What do you mean a girl doesn't love my power? I mock inside my own safe mind.
His eyes narrow though, and for the first time, it occurs to me that this guy might actually hear my thoughts.
I hurry to speak before he can say anything. "It's a throne," I say rather stupidly. I prepare to explain further, but his face goes rather neutral, causing me to pause.
"Because you weren't supposed to attract attention."
He is right, that's why it makes me so deeply uncomfortable, as if my father had embedded the value into my DNA. But...
"How do you know that?"
He sighs, impatient I think. "Never be surprised when I know something about you, Kitten. Just assume I know everything."
"How old am I?" I snap, and I have no excuse for it, wishing I could reach out and snatch the words back.
"Twenty-four, almost twenty-five," he answers without hesitation, suddenly looking rather tired. I blink. And blink again. My brows pinch tightly together.
It has never mattered to me, and yet hearing my age confidently said by him...it no longer feels...abstract.
"Is that, is that true?"
"You don't know your age?"
"I lost track somewhere along the way," I admit, embarrassed. "It's not just that I'm no one to the galaxy," I begin, changing the subject back to the throne. "I," I scoff at my thoughts, unable to look at him.
Then, I decide I've come way too fucking far to tiptoe around this now. I meet his eyes, feel their heat. He is debating ignoring my request, wanting badly to fuck me. That thought gives me the last bit of strength I need. I have to say it because I'm not about to be fucked on this damn throne.
"I am no one to you, either. You can not have me here—you will regret it, if not tomorrow, then later." When you kill me, perhaps. "You are not asking me to be anything to you, nor do you want me to be anything more than your head of security." His eyes darken. I have his attention.
I open my mouth to continue, but his hand flies out and covers it, pushing me back into the seat. My heart goes wild, my body reacting to him.
"Listen very closely, little one, because I am so damn tired of repeating myself to you." I am completely transfixed. His eyes do not waver from me, fierce and confident. And the way every word feels like a spell, or maybe a curse, is enough to make me want to grind against him.
He leans closer, his hand pressing harder against my mouth. "I will fuck you here, and then you will spread your knees and let me drip out of you, right where your ass is." A whimper slips out of my throat. Shit. "And I'm going to enjoy every moment, and when I'm sitting on this throne, I will enjoy the memory. Oh, how I will enjoy the memory, my Kitten."
I gasp in shock when the Force squeezes around me again, this time pulling my butt closer to him. My pants are gone with inhuman speed, and I whine, looking down at him with desperation. I suppose I'll have to give my mind time to catch up later because, at the moment, my body is the one in charge.
"Oh, Kitten," he says as if in pain from staring at my cunt. His hand kneads into my thigh and he watches while I watch him.
"You looked at Coruscant the way I look at this little pussy," he adds, still sounding almost in pain. He lets out a low moan, deep and long, and I listen to it with awe—
Smack. I shriek from the sudden pain to my clit. His thumb starts slowly moving while I twitch beneath him.
"Are you thinking about it still?" His voice is unkind, but it still lights me up. "I visited you at night. I invaded your dreams. I couldn't stop thinking," smack, "about you."
I'm still whimpering when two fingers tease my entrance. I am a mess. I think I'm about to come. But then his sultry voice comes out and yanks me toward despair. Maybe even rage.
He groans, sounding as if he will die if he doesn't get to fuck me soon.
"Shit, one night, I leaned down and moved hair from your face. You didn't wake up, but I think you sensed me because your sweet, soft hand slipped down into your panties." Smack. The last two made me cry out. This one though...I want to cry out. I want to. But I moan and roll my hips.
"Oh, how I watched you grind against your own hand, and how you tried to think of anything other than me," he reels back to slap, but my whisper makes him pause.
"But I couldn't." Smack. I arch and dig my nails into his throne. "But when I pictured you, I came immediately." Smack. My entire body rocks and shakes, and this time I scream because it is almost enough. "Your cock," I pant. "Sliding inside me, using me. It was enough."
He presses two fingers inside, finally pushing all the way in, and I realize he is rewarding me. In that case, I'll tell him anything he wants to hear.
"When you're gone for long periods, sometimes I'll go in search of something to replace your cock—" I cry out when he slaps my clit again, but then his fingers are scooping my arousal out and rubbing my asshole. "I, one time, it was too big, and it hurt, but I imagined it was your lightsaber." The hand I didn't realize is on my thigh squeezes tightly, eliciting a cry of pain from me. But I pull myself higher and meet his eyes, unable to catch my breath.
"I came three times that night." His eyes turn desperate. It is the most alluring sight in the galaxy. I made Darth Vader drop to his knees and look like that. "Imagining you." They flash from need to greed, and I even see his teeth briefly before he yanks his saber from his belt.
I fall back when he slides the hilt across me, wetting it, probably. But I take it as pleasure and push myself against it.
"You are the most fucked up woman I've ever met, Kitten."
"Please," I purr. "Please, Master. I've been a good girl." I'm basically dry-humping his weapon now, but there isn't anything dry about it. I don't even know where my words are coming from.
"I cannot argue with that," he says before pushing it into me. I gasp because it is ribbed with sharp edges but I'm so turned on, so wet, that it moves in with ease. "Kitten," he growls. Maybe he wants something, but I barely register it. His fingers are dancing around my ass and it unexpectedly feels so good. His lightsaber should hurt more than it does, but by the time his finger dips into my other hole, there is no pain at all. It isn't as good as his cock, but it is good the way he pumps it in and out, harder and quicker. Soon he pushes another finger into my ass and I feel its resistance, but still, there is little pain.
"I can feel my hilt through here. Shit, Kitten. If I could feel love, I know I'd love you." He hooks his finger as he speaks and the Force dances on my clit, and I am done. Tears pour down my face and my body goes rock solid and I scream for Anakin, praise him, curse the gods.
I am still trying to find my way back to reality when I feel his mouth go to my pussy as if cleaning it up. I hum at the thought, recognizing how wet I am, how he slides around. I know I should be reeling, but I can't find it in me.
I whine when he leaves, but then his wet lips are on mine and I kiss him hungrily. I revel in the sharp taste of me and—wait. It's too sharp.
I gasp in realization and pull back, my jaw dropping when I see him. It isn't like, a ton of blood. But it's on his lips, drips down his chin, and he even has some on the tip of his nose.
Shit. I must look similar. He seems to give me a moment to process before he is diving back in for a kiss, and I don't hesitate to shove into his mouth. I battle his tongue before pulling back and licking the blood off his nose, then his chin, the light stubble prickling my tongue, and lap up the rest. Okay, so maybe I am twisted because I've never been so turned on in my life.
Trying to adjust before he can stop me, I throw my legs up onto the back of the chair. My spine is flat on the seat and my head just hangs off. As he grins at me with dark eyes, I let my legs fall to each side of the backrest, part of my thighs pressing into the arms of it.
"Gods, woman," he says in the low, tantalizing voice he so rarely uses with me. "I don't even have to move you. You manage to find a place that wouldn't have occurred to me."
"It's because I want your hands on me when you come down my throat," I say in almost a whine, wiggling against the hard chair.
He shakes his head, and I think he didn't mean for me to see it. I open my mouth and let my head fall, and the devilish grin returns to his face. He pops up and shoves himself inside.
"Wow," he grunts. "I have the best view, Kitten." I moan around him, but I'm not in much position to move. I simply suck and play with my tongue while he finds his own pace. It is slower at first while he tests it out, pushing himself in deep until I choke and feel the blood draining from my face. Then, he pulls out and starts finding his rhythm—but he puts his mouth on my clit, and it surprises me but is hot and wet and amazing. I moan a long sound around his cock, which he slows a fraction and seems to soak up. His hand replaces his mouth, and his deep voice wraps around me, twisting my heart.
"Do you know how long you kept me in the dark, Kitten? Every time the light tried to shine through, I'd find you with in my mask. Your fear is immeasurable; every time you thought you were about to die, I found I could pull out more fear. I'd remember how you look, fluttering around my fucking sanctuary, singing a damn show tune. And I'd look at you, shattered, knowing I caused it, and I'd find the dark once more. Like it or not Kitten, every bad thing I did to you gave me the means to do something decent without catching his attention." A rumble leaves his throat. "Every time the light comes knocking, it's you that leads me away."
"Hey!" I shriek when he bites my clit. Except his cock is inside my mouth, so it just comes out a yelp. Then his tongue dances across me once more and his cock seems to find the perfect angle and speed up, hitting my throat. I can't get a full breath, but his mouth is so—
Fuck! He bites my thigh, which isn't nearly as bad as the clit, but still hurts. I jerk and try to close my legs around him but he shoves them back apart.
I reach up and caress his balls, and he groans, hot cum shooting down my throat as I continue to try to breathe.
"Come for me, Kitten," he strains out. "Let me watch you clench." He swipes my clit as he says it and my body gives him exactly what he wants.
A soft whimper slips out when he shifts me back to a sitting position. He sheds what little clothing I have left, and I comprehend that he's naked, his suit discarded at the bottom of the steps. I wrap my arms around his neck when he leans into me, ready to just curl up against him and sleep. It seems he has other plans though. His hands grip beneath my ass and he moves my legs around him and stands up.
"Anakin," I mutter when I realize he's not going to take me to bed. He places me on the ground before the bottom step, and I look up at his throne from my knees. He pushes my shoulders down until my hands are clutching one of the steps.
"I'm going to fuck you know, Kitten," he says in a low, taunting tone, just before pushing a finger inside me. "Be a good girl and remember who is behind you right now."
He thrusts into me, and though I'm sore and the ground is hard on my knees, it would be a lie to say I resist in any way.
"I love how loyal you are," he groans and shoves in further. My knees press into the bottom step, keeping me from scooting forward.
Well, I love his voice. But looking up at his throne, I hear it. I hear the voice that hides beneath the modulation of his helmet.
"When I brought you in here the first time, and you got mad at me for suggesting this very act." A low chuckle vibrates from him, and I can feel it inside me. I let my head collapse in pleasure, but he pulls my hair enough that I'm once again looking up at his stupid throne through lidded eyes. "That's when I knew I'd never escape you."
I'm panting. Sweating. My knees hurt as his thrusts get harder. "You asked why I came to you when I was injured, Kitten, and I'll tell you."
I don't know how he's talking. I couldn't speak if I wanted to. My orgasm is building up inside me. But then he presses a finger against my other hole and I tighten, still not convinced I want him near it.
He chuckles and slips his hand lower before rubbing his now-wet finger back against it. "I trusted you, that's why. I barely knew you. But I was so deep in my bloodlust," he pushes it inside, and I'm once again surprised when it feels good, "that I was barely human anymore." I moan and try rocking with him. I want his confessions, but I might want my release more. "And what do I do? I come to this empty place without any medical equipment, to you."
"Please, Anakin." My voice sounds choked. My mind is in pieces.
"Alright, little one. This one is for saving my life so many times." He pulls his hand away and leans closer. I feel his skin on my lower back and I crave the skin-on-skin contact. Then he's rubbing my clit, and it's all I need. I'm pressing back into him, losing myself to the bliss.
I still don't miss his strained grunt as he comes again. Vaguely, I'm grateful for the Imperial birth control I'm on because a baby with Darth Vader? No, thank you.
He pulls out when we're done and both panting. He's in far better shape than me, but then again, he's doing most of the work. Once he is no longer touching me, I slump onto the steps. I can probably fall asleep like this.
"Crawl to me, Kitten." I look up at him, surprised to see him sitting on his throne, his arms on his knees. At first, I have no desire to do so.
But his eyes are so fucking intense, I do.
"That's good," he says, and I stop at his feet. "Get on your knees." I push myself higher onto my knees, my feet under my butt.
He hums a small sound of approval, and I ache for his touch. "Such a good girl, little one...Spread your knees for me."
I do. Then I gasp when the Force immediately starts shoving inside me, falling back to my hands.
"Anakin," I breathe. Is he imagining fucking me? It feels so close to his cock! The Force trails over my clit and at the same time onto my breasts, pinching my nipples until I want to scream from all the stimulation.
And then, I am screaming, my orgasm consuming me. The Force picks up speed slamming into my pussy and I want to fall forward, to make it stop.
"Take it all, baby," he growls in a low voice. "I want you completely destroyed." Gods, he isn't going to stop. Doesn't he see I am already destroyed? Even as I twitch from the end of my orgasm, he keeps fucking me with the Force.
I manage to pop open my eyes, only to see him staring at me, barely moving at all.
"Please," I try, but I'm already rocking into his hold once more. This so isn't fair, how can my body still want this?
"You're dripping onto my floor," he growls. "It's supposed to be my throne." With that, the Force shoves far inside, and I cry out. It dances faster on my clit and then his real hands are on my neck, squeezing the sides. I meet his yellow eyes as I feel the orgasm building.
When he lets go and I suck in air, I soar higher than I've ever been, collapsing against his hold and rocking into the slowing Force.
I'm still twitching with a chaotic pleasure when I feel him stand up with me.
He sits and tugs me onto his lap, sliding me down slowly on top of him before I'm even fully aware of what is happening.
"Yes, Kitten. Those are the sounds that keep me up at night, replaying in my mind." I don't even know what sounds I'm making. I'm in some sort of lust-filled daze where the only thing that matters is our physical bodies and how far we can push them. Of course, I'm aware that my body can't be pushed as far as his, but when he tugs my chin up to look at him, I see how broken he already is.
His handsome face, lined with scars—how beautiful he must have once been. How beautiful I think he is now, some sort of cruel artistry. There is a need in his gaze I've never seen before; though, through the fog, I can't determine exactly what it is.
I feel myself clench tightly around his cock when his thumb trails over my lips and presses inside. I suck hard, then twist my tongue around it while he holds my gaze. I see the fascination and desire, but also the pain beneath.
"I know, Kitten," he says, his voice soft, before kissing me with a fervor that likely doesn't belong in casual sex. It's hard but passionate, and he sucks my tongue in before nipping my lip.
At my pathetic moan, too dazed to cry out, he tightens beneath me and I feel his hot cum begin dripping out between thrusts. I'm just about to follow him into bliss when he pulls me up, causing me to shake from the loss of an orgasm.
Anakin spins me around so I'm facing away and dips back inside me with a slow, languid motion. I let out a long, louder moan this time, almost immediately coming as he hits the perfect spot. But with the help of the Force, he pulls me back up.
Before I can begin to beg, he rolls the head of his cock around my ass. Every part of me tenses up, but he runs a hand down my back with a soft, "It's alright, my Kitten." Then, he's back inside my pussy. The teasing only builds up my impending doom, but when his fingers dance around my ass, now covered in his cum, I know I'm about to enter another space in time. I'm already so close, and his touch feels electric.
He pushes a finger inside, slowly moving it in further each time until I'm unraveling on top of him. "Anakin," I cry, part beg, part praise. I feel him push another finger inside me just as I reach my peak. I revel in it, amazed by its intensity. My mind is well and truly fractured.
He pulls almost all the way out and I think he is going to slam back in, but the next thing I know, I feel his hard, still throbbing cock at my other entrance.
This is where I probably should say something, try to call it quits. But he pulses in and out, and sometime in those few moments, I lose all sense of self as my orgasm rises higher than ever before. By the time I'm sucking in a real breath, I feel his skin against mine, his cock pushed far inside my ass.
I'm back in my own body, but then he is leaving me, and I'm feeling empty and dejected. He spins me around and somehow, this wild man slips right back inside. He adjusts my legs and I let him, surprised by how minor my pain feels.
"I think you're so beautiful like this, Kitten. Completely spent, covered in our cum and sweat, your body happily moving for mine."
I mumble some sort of affirmative, and he grips my hair and pulls me back to look at him. It allows him to hit somewhere new, and I wonder if someone can die from sex.
"This is the only thing that keeps me human," he says in a growl. "Do you understand me, Kitten?"
I do. Somehow, in this foggy moment between bliss and agony, I understand.
The weaker part of me doesn't feel useful by the statement. No, that part of me is wondering why my pussy keeps him human, and not me, all of me.
He watches me as his hand—or maybe the Force, I don't know anymore—dances across my clit. Every thrust tugs me farther from existence.
"Anakin," I moan, about to come again. His hand wraps around my throat.
"Not yet, little one." He says the words slowly, his upper body arching him forward, closer to me. "When we go, we go together," he purrs and scrapes his teeth across my lips. "We experience the maelstrom together, or not at all."
I whimper, the sound distant to my brain. I feel tears dripping down my cheeks, and just as stars begin to dance across my vision, there is no holding it back anymore. My body will have its release with or without oxygen.
He lets go, and the pleasantly sharp smack of his hand against my breasts as I suck in the air is the cherry on top, the last straw.
The bright colors are the first thing I notice, instantly followed by the best feeling I've ever experienced, radiating from my core and sparking at my fingertips. Sounds come back before the feeling of his touch does. But I feel his hands, his chest against mine, and his legs beneath me, before I realize I am collapsed against him. My face is buried in his neck, wet from sweat and tears and for all I know, blood. He still smells like fire.
The last thing that registers is how tightly he's holding me, one of his hands in my hair, pressing my head against him. It is a possessive and protective act, but I don't think that at the time because my world is fading to black.
Yes, the last thing I remember before falling into beautiful nothingness is how wonderful it feels like that, Anakin still deep inside me but holding me so close.