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moonstrider9904 · 1 year ago

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Show Me

Part 1 of the Urban Flora mini series

Part 2 | Part 3 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: At the opera, you meet a mysterious, debonair man who strikes your fancy. Will you risk your reputation to spend some time with him?

Tags: Smut (18+ only), flirting, alcohol consumption, clit play, vaginal fingering, some profanity

Word count: 4.2k

Playlist: Show Me by Alina Baraz

You clenched every muscle in your body to keep from flinching at the abnormally high frequency that made your eardrums thunder. The singer on the stage of the opera theater was undoubtedly talented, and you wouldn’t be the one to question or criticize her performance—that didn’t make the physical impact of her highest note, signaling the number’s musical climax, any duller. And for a moment you thought, so what if you did flinch? Would anybody really notice if you did that?

There were a couple of reasons as to that in your favor. For one thing, you were the senator’s daughter, not the senator herself. If anyone’s pair of eyes went to the box from where you were sitting next to your mother in that theater, they would be looking at your mother, not at you. For another thing, the opera singer, with her powerful performance, held everyone’s attention.

Regardless, the power of the singer’s voice decreased before you could even make up your mind, and applause roared throughout the entire theater. You clapped your gloved hands, smiling softly as the curtain fell on the stage and the lights lit themselves halfway along the theater, signaling an intermission. Beside you, your mother sighed, pleased at the performance, and she reached for her glass of bubbly. You knew your mother opted to remain in the box through the intermissions, often chatting with her maid or the bodyguards, but that wasn’t the case for you. You’d use the intermissions to stretch your legs and drench yourself in the habitat of the opera house, always finding something or someone to catch your attention. The countless stories you’d overheard were revolting, each holding a golden little piece of gossip that would ruin their subjects if they ever got out, and when you mixed them with the exquisite food and drink you could find in the opulent setting, you’d get a recipe for a luxuriously good time.

You’d learned to love the setting. If your mother’s job meant you could have that, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

Your mother already knew of your habit to go take a walk during intermissions, and by that point, she only had to acknowledge you with a nod before you went off on your own. It was the case that night as well, and you stood up from your chair to make your way out into the halls and walked headed straight for the common room. You made a quick stop at the nearest powder room to make sure your hair and makeup were still in place, and you took your place in front of the full-body mirror and turned on the spot to evaluate your burgundy gown, also making sure it had no problems. Much to your pleasure, it looked flawless on your body, it’s A-line trim favoring your silhouette and flattering you from head to toe, and the lacy outer level gave the gown an extra touch of elegance and regality fit for the place you were in, fit for the daughter of the senator of Coruscant.

After being sure everything was perfectly in place, you finally made your way to your favorite place in the opera house. You undoubtedly turned heads, but that wasn’t why you were there at the moment. You headed straight for the bar and took your usual spot at the left corner, right next to a short, warm-light lamp that illuminated the left side of your body and added a fine gleam to your silhouette when paired with the overhead warm lighting of the common room. You asked the bartender for your usual: they called it an Urban Flora Tonic, containing a balanced blend of gin, grapefruit juice and other citrus extracts, making the drink take a dull blood-orange hue, with a large, thin slice of cucumber rolled up to resemble a rose crowning the drink, resting on top of the thick layer of ice cubes. The glass was large and round, and you had to wrap your entire hand around it to pick it up. As you did, your back turned on the bar and you were facing the rest of the room as you remained seated upon your spot, and you took in the whole sight.

You knew there was juicy gossip coming from at least three points in the room. Homing in on the different conversations wasn’t beyond your abilities, but much to your surprise, you were finding yourself getting distracted. It began the first moment you noticed from the opposite side of the common room there was a pair of observative eyes watching you, unblinking. Their owner was sitting back on a large couch, alone; he was dressed entirely in black save for the thin, opaque cape draped over his left shoulder with a gray brooch securing it. He had gray hair and warm toned skin that complemented the light of the room, and one leg crossed over the other. The lower half of his face was covered by the large glass of a golden beverage—you assumed it could either be whisky or bourbon—but soon enough, he lowered the glass to reveal thin lips and a slim jaw, slightly darkened by a coarse-looking stubble, and your heart fluttered in your chest at the sheer perfection with which his features were all aligned in one attractive face, and then, your focus honed in on the tattoo that outlined his right eye.

He was handsome, no doubt, and in your position, that could be dangerous.

Despite that danger, you smiled at the man, your features drenched with intrigue and allure. You were pleased when you saw him smirk back at you just before lifting his glass one more time to take a large sip. When he did, your smile widened just slightly and then you turned around to face the bar again, angling your body just so your back would arch and your behind would be emphasized by your dress—you knew exactly what you were doing. Daintily, you took a sip from your Urban Flora tonic, and you waited. You took in the sounds and the scents, the flavor of your cocktail, until at last, you felt a presence beside you.

“What’s that you’re drinking, darlin’?”

You angled your body towards your right now, facing the mysterious, attractive man, and you flirtatiously smiled at his voice, velvety and deep and even more enticing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You purred in return.

“It looks colorful,” the man mused. “Aren’t you worried that drink might be a little too hard for such a petite girl?”

He reached his hand out and tapped your chin with his knuckle. In response, you slowly turned your head away from his touch as your shoulders moved closer to your chin, and you smiled.

“Oh, sir,” you said. “Now I know for sure you’re not from around here, otherwise you’d know that a gesture like that would turn us into the subject on everyone’s mouths for the rest of the night.”

“My sincerest apologies,” the man crooned as the hand that had touched your chin went to his chest. He took a seat in the stool next to you, his amber eyes drilling deep into yours.

“Let me guess,” you raised a brow. “New money.”

He chuckled low in his chest, his lips curving into a smirk, and he took another sip from his drink before answering. “No, though I’d like that. Not having to work another day of my life sounds enticing, especially in my line of work.”

You tilted your head for a moment, confused. “Though, I must say, you do look strikingly familiar.”

The man chuckled again. “I have the face of around two million men, though you’ll agree with me, I’m at least twice as handsome as the average.”

You focused on his features and put his words together with what you were reasoning, and you gasped softly when the realization poured itself upon you.

“You’re a soldier,” you stated.

“And you’re smart too,” the man purred at you. “I do love a pretty girl who packs a brain.”

You couldn’t help the obscenely flirty giggle that escaped you as you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. You then turned to him again and now you crossed one of your legs over the other underneath your skirt, inching your body closer to him, drawn in by this man’s magnetism.

“And may I ask,” you began, “what’s a clone trooper, a soldier of the Republic, doing around these parts of Coruscant? Not to be rude, of course, it’s just… not where I would expect to find one of you.”

Otherwise, you’d be there more often.

“I recently saved the Supreme Chancellor’s life,” he uttered nonchalantly, seemingly giving a larger priority to his beverage than any accolades that could come his way.

But your eyebrows raised as you remembered your mother telling you about that, and the coverage that was given to that on the news. “That was you?”

“In the flesh, darlin’,” he said as he finished downing his drink. He set the glass on the bar and reached near him to grab an olive on a toothpick, and after he’d eaten the olive, he let the toothpick rest between his lips as he looked your way again. He had to admit, he liked the way you were looking at him, starry-eyed and innocent, astonished, perhaps a bit seduced by the fact that he was a soldier.

“Well,” you said, swirling your drink in your hand, eyes unwaveringly on him. “Thank you for your service.”

The man chuckled. “Oh, it’s nothing. All I did was shoot down an assassin from a penthouse five klicks away, timing my blast perfectly so it wouldn’t hit any of the ships transiting through the city. I won’t give a lady such gruesome details, but it did the job.”

You felt a clenching between your legs that was slowly becoming desperate, and your eyes seemed to glow as you listened to him.

“Wow,” you sighed. “That’s amazing…”

He removed the toothpick from between his lips and cast it inside of his empty glass, and when he looked at you again, he was pleased by the fact that you were much closer to him than before.

“And…” your voice had lowered to just above the whisper thanks to the proximity. “What name do you go by?”

He leaned in slightly closer as well, smirking. “You’re looking at it.”

You scanned his features and your gaze settled on the finely traced tattoo over his right eye, and you smirked back at him as you locked eyes with him, grinning seductively.

“Crosshair?” You guessed.

He hummed in satisfaction, his lips now hovering dangerously close to yours. “Good girl, so smart.”

You considered throwing reason out the window and letting the space between your lips close—being the subject of gossip would be worth it for a man as painfully sexy as him. But you were stopped by the bells chiming on the speakers of the opera house, alerting the first call for the continuation of the performance.

Crud. You had forgotten where you were for a moment.

“I assume you have someplace to be?” Crosshair crooned.

You pouted at him. “Yes. Though… I’d love to stay and get acquainted.”

“And would anyone notice your absence?” He asked.

“Yes,” uttered. “And if anyone found out I was with a soldier, it would be ballistic. I’d need to come up with a damn good excuse.”

“Well…” Crosshair smirked. “Having saved the Chancellor’s life comes with some privileges for the night, including my very own box for the night. And, as you may well know, every box…”

“Comes with its own room behind it,” you finished for him.

“A room where we could definitely get acquainted,” he offered. “Would you like to check it out?”

You didn’t have to think about it. It sounded far better than finishing the opera you’d already watched at least twice before, and when your decision was made, you smiled.

“Show me and I’m all yours. Let me just send a comm,” you said, and you quickly brought out your comm device to tell your mother you’d be a little late—those darn acoustics had given you a headache, and your cocktail prevented you from taking conventional medication. When you were done, you put it back in your purse, and you stood up to link your arm in Crosshair’s, and he led the way.

The walk towards his box was a blur, and soon you were inside a room that was nearly identical to the one behind you and your mother’s box except for the presence who occupied it. Crosshair closed the door behind him and watched as your gaze observed the details of the room, from the lamps to the curtain that concealed you and him from the rest of the theater. When your gaze finally fell on him, you walked closer to him only to take a seat on the elegant couch beside you, with your back straight and your legs pressed together, your hands resting on your thighs. Crosshair felt allured by the ladylike posture you’d adopted, and he went to sit next to you, his tall frame hovering over you as he reached his hand out once more for his knuckle to gently brush your chin.

“Can I do this here?” He asked.

You giggled softly. “Yes.”

His hand slowly slid past your jaw and found rest at the nape of your neck, where his fingertips could gently brush with loose strands of your hair. “You’ll have to be very quiet.”

“Mm,” you hummed. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

Crosshair inhaled sharply through closed teeth in an attempt to suppress a growl, and you melted at the sight of his half-lidded eyes and his slightly bared teeth, a devastatingly seductive expression for such a strikingly handsome face. You were ready for him to take you and show you his skillset, and by the stars, he was ready to dive in. After an excruciating wait, Crosshair crashed his lips onto yours, breaking the kiss for a few moments to look you in the eyes again.

“Where are my manners?” He mused. “I don’t know your name yet, darlin’.”

You giggled and leaned in close to his ear, whispering your name. Crosshair moaned faintly at the syllables you pronounced, and he leaned in to resume kissing down your jawline, and he muttered your name once before finally finding your lips again and kissing you with a burning hunger. He pushed his body forward, making you lie on the couch, without breaking the kiss, with his hands running all over your torso and your legs over your skirt.

It was when his hands slipped under your skirt that you had to clench every muscle in your body to keep from moaning. His fingertips sliding up your shins and thighs sent delightful sensations all through your body like electricity coursing through your wires. It was as if Crosshair didn’t need to undress you with his hands. He could do that only with his mind. He could speak to you with no words, telling you how great his desire was with every brush of his tongue with yours and the curious, seductive groans that escaped him as he observed the texture and curves of your legs with his fingertips and kneaded your flesh wherever you were most plump.

Almost unconsciously, you had spread your legs as you lay flat on your back on the couch. You wanted him to have all the access, and Crosshair seemed to purr at you when he noticed. He pressed himself harder onto you and his kissing never ceased, and you sunk into the bliss that came with making out with Crosshair as he slid his hands up and down your legs underneath your skirt, with his fingers inching closer to the very inside of your thighs each time. Still, you knew that was going to have to wait—Crosshair definitely didn’t strike you as the kind of man to rush things for the sake of a quick release, and you loved that.

His lips on yours took you higher with each second that passed. The kiss was warm and passionate and tasted of whisky and citrus, and his tongue danced with yours inside your mouth, granting you sweet and fiery friction that deliciously hinted at that sensation on other parts of your body. You succeeded in keeping your moans at bay, whimpering delicately into Crosshair with each tiny wave of sparks sent down your body, and you could tell how much the sound riled him up when he dug his nails into your thighs or your ass in response. Aching for more, you nibbled gently on Crosshair’s lower lip, basking in the low, grumbling moan he struggled to contain at the sensations you caused when you lightly tugged on his lip with your teeth, and you dove in for another kiss only for him to do the same to you. The fire within you had grown so intense that you had to clutch his silver locks, short as they were, giving them a light tug, and by doing that, you caused Crosshair to buck his hips forward in response, letting you feel the hard erection even through the skirt of your dress.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered between kisses, and finally, Crosshair slid his fingers teasingly around your inner thighs and getting dangerously close to your panties. He wrapped his fingers around the delicate panties that shielded your cunt from his touch, and painfully slowly, he slid them down your smooth legs, shooting a glance into your eyes as he did as a final way to ask for your approval.

You nodded at him as you looked him straight in the eyes, and then you pulled him in for another kiss, ready for him to have his way with you.

Crosshair put your panties aside where they wouldn’t be hard to find afterwards, although the idea of you wandering around with no undergarments beneath that exquisite gown made him want to rip it clean off you. But this was still a place of elegance, and he imagined that gown had taken at least some effort for you to put on, and he wouldn’t disrespect that. He smirked to himself at the thought of him having to please you with that dress still on, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

His fingertips weren’t quite at your folds yet, but Crosshair could feel your wetness leaking around your delicate skin. Crosshair took his long middle and index fingers and brushed your folds from bottom to top a few times as he gazed into your eyes wanting to take in your expression. You appeared dazed as you looked back into his eyes, feeling his touch on your warm, wet cunt, your mind soaring with the thoughts of everything you wanted him to do with you. He kept up his current pattern until he felt a switch was in order, and Crosshair rested his two fingertips on the swollen and exposed bud of your clit, and he began to rub slow, steady circles on it. You bit your lip to keep from moaning at the delicious feeling of his fingers sliding effortlessly over your flesh, coated by your wetness, and you gazed into his eyes until you let your head gracefully fall back on the couch’s armrest for support as you allowed yourself to slip into a state of bliss.

Crosshair smirked at the sight of you, delighted and pleased. The circular motion of his fingers on your clit increased its pace, and he pressed only a tad harder into your flesh, but he managed to elevate your pleasure onto a whole other level by doing that. The sweet sensations boiled low in your core and expanded throughout your entire labia, and you felt your body rising to such a heat that you began to sweat. Your breathing hardened against Crosshair’s lips, kissing him with more force the closer you felt yourself approaching ecstasy, and you felt as though you had to cling to him for support even though you were lying back on a couch. You needed that beautiful release, ached for it, felt it closer and closer each second, until at last, that delicious heat overflowed within you and sent you into a spiral of fiery delight.

Your body squirmed in Crosshair’s grip, and you relied on the feeling of Crosshair’s lips on yours to keep you from screaming at such intense pleasure. Your chest pressed up to him with each wave of your orgasm, and Crosshair watched you, smirking seductively at the sight of you so enticing and beautiful, overwhelmed that pleasure that he gave you. You were able to pick up on things that Crosshair briefly muttered under his breath, tender whispers of “Yes” and “Good girl” that made you see white, until your hips gave a sturdy buck forward in a particularly strong wave of pleasure.

Crosshair removed his fingertips from your clit for a moment to let you catch your breath, and your heart sank at the thought of him being done with you. Any dread within you shattered when you felt his touch on your all too sensitive clit once more, but this time, Crosshair slid his fingertips downward and approached your entranced. He teased the little hole only for a few seconds, enough to draw a sweet, delicious little whimper from you which he chuckled at in the sexiest way you could fathom, and then, Crosshair slid a long and slender finger down your entrance. You sucked air in through your teeth and clawed into the couch in another attempt at discretion, for he was showing you once again how talented he was. Crosshair’s finger moved at the perfect pace and curled at the perfect angle, brushing your sensitive spots like it was second nature.

For a moment, you thought that would be it, and you were already close to another release. That was until you felt Crosshair pull his finger out for the briefest second before coming back in with a fuller, deeper sensation; he’d slid two fingers into you now, enhancing every sensation that you felt. Your eyes widened in admiration at him and nervousness at yourself—if he continued, you weren’t sure how loud you would be or if you would be capable of containing yourself. You lifted your head and looked at Crosshair again, gazing into his striking gaze that appeared gentle as he focused solely on you and your pleasure. You let a hand travel up to cup his cheek, wanting to bring him even closer to you than he already was, and this time around, your orgasm crept up on you slowly, silently, taking over your body with expertise to make you crumble even harder.

Your eyes rolled back, and you no longer made sense of the world around you. You then shut your eyes hard and embraced Crosshair, pressing him strongly onto you, rocking your hips forward and back for even more friction that engulfed you in sparks. All you could make a remote thought of was how much this man amazed you, and how much no man would probably ever live up to his standard. The waves of your pleasure wore on as Crosshair persisted, and you felt yourself on the verge of blacking out, when Crosshair retrieved his hand from you and helped you gently up to sitting on the couch.

It took you a few minutes to recover, which Crosshair noticed, chuckling softly at how endearing you were post lovemaking. He’d gotten up to do something you didn’t quite make sense of, but you did notice when he went and sat next to you, with one hand resting softly at your knee while the other handed you back your panties.

You looked over at him, still dazed, though a bit confused. “What about you?”

Crosshair chuckled. “I’ll survive. We should probably return to where we should be. It might be considered rude if I’m not at the seat I was offered.”

“Oh, right,” you said, with his previous statement finishing the effort of bringing you back to reality. You eyed him again, this time more in the spirit of joking, but only halfway. “Are you sure? I could suck you into oblivion in under five minutes, the opera’s still gonna last longer than that.”

Crosshair laughed again. “Enticing, but no. Go on, darlin’.”

With a smile, you put your panties back on and hesitated before leaving the room, considering for a moment finishing the opera next to him. You’d occupy the seat on the left and take in the performance once more, enjoying the company far more than whatever was going on the stage, sneaking occasional looks at him only to find out he was already looking at you, perhaps reaching for his hand to hold it throughout the remainder of a performance

The implications were astonishingly scandalous, and you’d never hear the end of it. Neither of you would. Besides, for all you knew, what had just happened had only been a fling, regardless of how much you were feeling at the moment.

Your eyes met his piercing gaze for one final time before you ran out of his room, checking the surroundings for any bystanders before you made your way down the opulent halls. Your box was just a couple of stories above Crosshair’s, and it didn’t take you long to arrive. When you did, you held your hand over your head, imitating pain, but you gave her a reassuring smile.

Your mother asked no questions, and she returned your smile briefly before focusing her attention on the soloist down on the stage once more. You looked around at the people watching the performance, most of them focused on the stage, a few of them distracted, and a couple even asleep. You then understood that no one had seen you, and a wave of triumph showered itself over you.

You probably would have liked it better if you knew there was a chance for the night’s events to repeat themselves, but given your position, that would be begging for trouble. The ramifications could be wide, and you told yourself that again and again every single time you felt the longing to return to that man’s embrace.

You would have to make do without him.

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