1.3k
As they returned to the safety of the Jedi temple, Anakin couldn't shake the image of Isadora's bruised cheek from his mind. Sitting beside her in their quarters, he carefully cleaned the cuts and bruises that marred her delicate skin.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret as he dabbed at the purpling bruise on her cheek. "I never meant to hurt you."
Isadora winced slightly at the sting of the antiseptic, but she offered him a small smile. "It's okay, Anakin," she reassured him. "I know you were just trying to keep up appearances. We both were."
Anakin sighed, his fingers gentle as they traced the lines of her face. "I just hate seeing you like this," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I hate that I have to pretend to hurt you, even for a mission."
Their conversation shifted as Anakin's gaze wandered to the revealing slave outfit Isadora still wore. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the way the fabric clung to her curves, the sight igniting a fire within him that he struggled to contain.
"Isadora," he began, his voice low and husky. "You're still wearing that... outfit."
Isadora flushed under his intense gaze, suddenly self-conscious. "I-I know," she stammered, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "I was just about to change."
Anakin's expression darkened as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin. "No," he said firmly, his eyes smoldering with desire. "Let me do it."
Isadora's heart pounded in her chest as Anakin's hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his touch sending shivers down her spine. With a slow, deliberate motion, he began to peel away the fabric, his eyes never leaving hers as he bared her to his hungry gaze.
As her skin was revealed inch by inch, Isadora felt a rush of heat flood her senses. She had never felt more vulnerable, more exposed, yet at the same time, more desired.
Anakin's fingers trailed along the curves of her body, his touch setting her skin ablaze with longing. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I can't resist you, Isadora. I never could."
As Isadora leaned back against the bed, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes. "You know," she began, her voice dripping with playful teasing, "you're the one who gave me this outfit in the first place."
Anakin's gaze darkened as he hovered over her, his hands tracing the curve of her hip. "I know," he replied, his voice husky with desire. "And seeing you in it now... it drives me wild."
Isadora couldn't help but giggle at his response, her fingers dancing lightly across his chest. "Oh, does it now?" she teased, arching an eyebrow in amusement.
Anakin's lips curled into a wicked grin as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You have no idea," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "You look absolutely irresistible, Isadora. I can hardly control myself."
Isadora's breath caught in her throat at his words, her pulse quickening with anticipation. She knew she was playing with fire, but in that moment, she didn't care. All she wanted was to lose herself in the heat of their passion, to revel in the raw desire that burned between them.
With a devilish grin, she pulled Anakin closer, her lips crashing against his in a fierce, hungry kiss. As their kisses grew more heated, Isadora couldn't resist the urge to tease Anakin further. With a playful glint in her eyes, she nipped at his bottom lip, eliciting a low growl of pleasure from him. Emboldened by his response, she trailed her tongue along his lips, savoring the taste of him as she deepened the kiss.
As Isadora's teeth grazed Anakin's lip, she whispered teasingly, "Did I hurt you, my love?"
Anakin's response was a husky chuckle as he brushed his thumb over her cheek, his eyes smoldering with desire. "Not nearly as much as you'll make me ache with desire, my sweet."
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Isadora leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his. "Is that a promise, my handsome prince?"
Anakin's voice was a low rumble as he replied, "Consider it a guarantee, my dearest."
Isadora leaned in close, her breath warm against Anakin's ear. She traced a finger lightly down his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath her touch. "You know," she whispered, her voice low and seductive, "I can't help but wonder what else you're hiding under that Jedi robe of yours."
Anakin's breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with desire. "Isadora," he murmured, his voice husky, "you're playing with fire."
She chuckled softly, her lips brushing against his earlobe. "And what if I like the heat?" She nipped at his ear, causing him to shudder. "What if I want to see just how much you can take before you lose control?"
Isadora perched herself on Anakin's lap, feeling the tension radiating from his body. His breath came out in ragged gasps as she teased him relentlessly, her movements slow and deliberate.
Anakin's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he cursed softly under his breath. "Isadora, please," he pleaded, his voice strained with desire, "you're driving me insane."
But Isadora only grinned wickedly, enjoying the power she held over him. She pressed herself closer, feeling the unmistakable hardness of his arousal beneath her. Slowly, tantalizingly, she began to grind against him, relishing the way he reacted to her touch.
Anakin's control was slipping, his breath coming in shallow pants as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Isadora," he groaned, his voice laced with desperation, "you need to stop... before I lose myself completely."
But Isadora had no intention of stopping, not when she had him right where she wanted him. She continued to tease and torment him, reveling in the way he squirmed beneath her, completely at her mercy. Isadora leaned in close, her breath warm against Anakin's ear as she whispered teasingly, "I can feel how hard you are, Anakin. Your dick is throbbing against me, begging for release."
She could sense his desperation growing, his need for release palpable in the way his body tensed beneath her. But Isadora had other plans. "But not today," she declared, her voice dripping with mischief. "You bruised my cheek earlier, remember? Consider this a punishment."
Anakin groaned in frustration, his desire reaching a fever pitch as Isadora continued to taunt him. He was at her mercy, completely under her spell, and she reveled in the power she held over him. Today, she decided, she would make him beg for release, prolonging his torment until she was satisfied.
Anakin's pleas fell on deaf ears as Isadora maintained her resolve, denying him the release he so desperately craved. Frustration coursed through him, his body aching with desire as she teased and tormented him.
With a frustrated growl, Anakin watched as Isadora gracefully slipped off his lap and sauntered toward the shower, leaving him to wrestle with his desires alone. Anger and arousal mingled within him as he begrudgingly followed her movements, his hand finding its way to his throbbing member.
As the water cascaded down her body, Isadora reveled in the sensation, the steamy heat serving as a welcome distraction from the tension that lingered between her and Anakin. Meanwhile, Anakin's hand moved with purpose, his movements fueled by frustration and desire as he sought to find release on his own terms.
Despite his anger at her teasing, Anakin couldn't deny the intoxicating effect Isadora had on him. With each stroke, he imagined her touch, her scent filling his senses as he succumbed to the overwhelming need coursing through his veins.
In the solitude of the shower, they each sought solace in their own way, the tension between them simmering beneath the surface as they navigated the complex dance of desire and denial.