#here have whatever ... this is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jetii · 4 months ago

Text

The New Deal

Part One

Pairing: Thorn x Senator Vale Ishani (OC)

Words: 13,256 / 27,656

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends with benefits to lovers, secret relationship, bodyguard!Thorn, protective!Thorn, fluff, feelings talk, so much flirting, dirty talk, manhandling, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), cum play, p in v sex, Thorn is submitting his application for trophy husband, and he has references

Summary: It's been a month since Thorn and Vale have returned to Coruscant from her home planet of Atrisia, and so far they've managed to keep their budding relationship under wraps. But Thorn can't help but want more than a few stolen moments in the dark, and he's ready to prove to Vale that it's worth it.

A/N: I have nothing to say to defend myself re: word count. I just like making the dolls kiss. A lot.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist | Thorn and Vale Masterlist

As the dinner drags on, Thorn finds himself growing increasingly restless.

The conversations have devolved from polite small talk to petty gossip and political backstabbing, and he's starting to regret not sneaking Vale out when he had the chance. He's standing next to the window, his eyes constantly roving the room, but his mind has long since wandered.

He's lost track of how long it's been since they returned to the party from their tryst on the balcony, but the sun has set, and the sky has turned from a dark blue to a deep indigo. He can't help but glance at his chrono every few minutes, his foot tapping impatiently. The seconds tick by, and the party continues, and Vale is trapped, unable to leave.

The guests are growing rowdier, the senators and business owners all well into their cups. They're all drunk and loud, their voices filling the room, and a dull headache begins to throb in Thorn's temples. The food has run out, the kitchen staff have long since gone home, and the music has been switched off, leaving only the hum of conversation to fill the silence.

It's as clear of a signal as any that the party is over, and yet, the guests show no sign of leaving.

Thorn shifts his weight, his back aching, and his hand moves to the blaster at his hip, brushing against the familiar hilt. He's more than ready to escort the lot of them out. Hell, he's more than ready to shoot a few rounds into the ceiling and tell them all to leave.

But, as much as he'd like to, that would be a spectacularly bad idea.

The evening has been tense enough already, the guests and politicians both scrutinizing every interaction and trying to determine if they're getting a fair shake or not. They've all been watching him, too, and he knows he's been the topic of conversation more than once. It's not hard to imagine what they're saying. What is a member of the Coruscant Guard doing here? Why is she entertaining him? Why is she letting him stand there like a guard dog?

He's been trying his best to stay out of sight, to be as invisible as possible, and he's done a pretty good job. But the moment one of the Coruscanti businessmen stepped too close to Vale, he moved further into the room, positioning himself so he can see her without having to turn his head.

He's not sure how much longer he can take this.

As the guests move further into the room, their conversations growing louder, Thorn feels a surge of anger. They're getting comfortable, like they own the place, and they've made no effort to thank Vale for her hospitality.

His gaze flits across the room, landing on the woman in question as she moves through the room, mingling with the guests. She's always charming, always friendly, but there's a hint of fatigue in her expression, a weariness that hadn't been there before.

Vale looks beautiful, her smile dazzling and her hair immaculate, but Thorn can see the tightness around her eyes and the tension in her shoulders. She's putting on a brave face, trying to stay upbeat, and it makes his heart ache.

He tries not to think about what Trina had said to him during dinner, but it's hard. Vale is surrounded by people, by friends and colleagues and business partners, but none of them seem to care about her. They all talk over her, or talk around her, or ignore her entirely. She smiles politely, she makes small talk, she shakes hands and kisses cheeks, but no one is listening.

She deserves better than this. She deserves more than to be treated like a decoration, or an ornament, or a trophy. She's smart and funny and charming, and the people around her seem completely unaware of her brilliance. They only care about her name, or her title, or her influence, and none of them seem to have a genuine interest in who she is.

Thorn's seen how much effort she puts into her work, and the countless hours she spends preparing for Senate sessions, preparing speeches and researching bills and pouring over the Republic's budget. And yet, here she is, forced to play the part of the gracious hostess, while her guests treat her like a prop.

He can't understand why she would do this to herself. Why she would put up with it, and why she would let herself be used.

But then again, maybe he can.

Thorn glances at his chrono again, letting out a heavy sigh. It's almost midnight, well past the time the dinner was supposed to end. He's starting to wonder if Vale's guests are ever going to leave, and the idea that he's going to be stuck here all night, so close and yet so far away from her, is agonizing.

The thought of what he'd rather be doing instead is even worse.

"Are you okay, Commander?" Trina whispers, a hint of amusement in her voice as she approaches him.

"Yes," he hisses, his voice tight.

Her eyebrows raise at his tone, and he sighs, his shoulders slumping. "Sorry."

"It's alright," she says as she leans against the wall next to him. She's holding a glass of wine, and she takes a sip, her eyes flicking over his face. "I get it. This isn't exactly the most exciting thing."

"You can say that again," he grumbles, shifting his weight from one foot to the other again. He rolls his shoulders, trying to ease the ache in his lower back, and lets out a huff. "It's been hours. What are they doing?"

"Making deals, making threats, making alliances," she says, shrugging. "You know how it is."

"Yeah. Unfortunately, I do," he mutters, and she lets out a quiet laugh.

Trina glances around the room, her eyes darting from person to person, and her expression shifts from playful to concerned. Her gaze lands on Vale, who's laughing at something someone said, her arms wrapped around her torso, and Thorn's stomach twists.

"How's she doing?" he asks, keeping his voice low.

"She's alright.” She doesn't meet his gaze, her focus still on Vale, and her fingers tap a slow, steady rhythm on the side of her glass. "I'm not sure how much longer she's going to last."

"Yeah, me neither," he replies. His eyes flick back to his chrono, and his lips press into a thin line. "You'd think they'd have the decency to wrap it up soon."

Trina snorts. "Have you met politicians? They have no concept of decency."

He scoffs. She's right. It's almost as bad as dealing with criminals. He's seen his fair share of shady dealings and unethical behavior, but politicians are on another level entirely.

"That's the nature of the game," she says, her voice low. "They never want to be the first to leave, because they think it'll look bad. So they all hang out for as long as they can, hoping that the others will get tired and go home."

"That's stupid," he grunts.

"I know," she sighs. She pushes herself off the wall and starts walking towards the kitchen, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I think it’s time for dessert. Do you mind helping me? There's something I want to show you."

Thorn hesitates, glancing at Vale. She's talking to one of the businessmen, a younger man with a finely groomed beard, and a flash of jealousy courses through him. He knows she's only being friendly, that it's just her job, but the sight of the man looking at her, his eyes wandering down her body, makes him seethe.

"I should stay," he says, his grip on his blaster tightening. "I don't want her to be unguarded.”

"She'll be fine. Besides, I'll only need a few minutes," she says. "Come on. You look like you need a break."

"I can't," he protests, shaking his head.

"Sure you can. Come on. It'll be fun."

"No," he says. His gaze is still fixed on Vale, and he frowns, watching as the man leans in, his hand resting on her arm. "I need to stay here. With her."

"Commander, it's just for a few minutes," she presses. Trina pauses, taking a breath, and her voice drops. “Please. Trust me."

There's a pleading note in her voice, and Thorn can't help but turn to look at her. There's something in her eyes, something urgent and serious, and he feels his stomach flip.

He nods in reluctant agreement, and her shoulders sag.

"Come on," she says, nodding her head towards the kitchen.

He follows her, his gaze sweeping the room once more before they disappear behind the wall. The kitchen is empty, the counters still covered in dirty dishes and half-eaten plates of food, and the smell of cooking oil and spices hangs heavy in the air.

"So what is it you wanted to show me?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Trina closes the door behind them, locking it and placing her back against it.

"Okay. New plan," she says, her voice low. "Are you up for it?"

"Yes," he replies without hesitation.

"Good. Here's what we're going to do," she starts, setting her glass on the counter. She leans closer, and he mirrors her movement, lowering his head and listening intently. "We’re faking an emergency. We have a security issue, a breach, something like that. I don’t know, use your imagination. Whatever gets everyone to leave."

Thorn blinks. "What?"

"You heard me. You're the commanding officer, aren't you? You can make it an order. Make a scene. Tell them you have to check the whole building, top to bottom," she says. She glances over her shoulder, towards the door, and turns back to him. "Tell them you need them out. Now."

"You want me to lie? To these people?" he asks, his voice incredulous. "Didn't we already establish that I'm a terrible liar?"

"You'll be fine," she assures him. "Just improvise. You're doing your job. And you're protecting her. I'm sure they'll understand."

"You're asking a lot," he grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I know. But you're not really going to get her alone until these people leave, and they're not going to leave unless you force them to," she says as she gestures around the kitchen. "Besides, this is for her own good. It'll give her a chance to decompress."

He doesn't like the idea of lying, but Trina has a point. These people won't leave until they're ready, and Vale is exhausted. If she were his, really his, he'd make sure she was taken care of, that she was safe, and that she was happy. And right now, she's none of those things.

And he'll do whatever it takes to change that.

Maybe this is his chance. Maybe this is his opportunity to do what he can for her, to give her what she needs, and to show her that he's here.

"Look, do you want her or not?" Trina asks as she picks up her glass and drains the rest of the wine.

"Of course I do," he hisses, and her lips curve into a smug smile.

"Then do something about it," she says. "She wants you too, and she needs a break."

He lets out a heavy sigh, his gaze falling to the floor. He doesn't like lying, and he doesn't like pretending, but he'll do it for her. He'll do it if it means giving her a few minutes of peace.

"Fine. Let's do it," he mutters. "What's the plan?"

"The plan," she says with a mischievous grin, "is to scare the kriff out of these people."

Thorn can't help but snort, the prospect of a good, old-fashioned Coruscant Guard scare suddenly appealing.

"I can do that," he grunts. He cracks his knuckles, his mind racing, and a slow smirk spreads across his face. "I can definitely do that."

"Thought you might say that," she says, her grin growing. She turns back to the door, her hand on the knob, and looks at him. "Ready?"

Thorn follows her back into the living area, and the conversations die down as soon they step into the middle of the room. He scans the crowd, and the guests fall silent, their eyes moving from him to Trina, and back again. Vale looks at him, confusion and concern written on her face, and he gives her a subtle nod. He hopes she'll forgive him for this.

"Commander?" she says, her brow furrowed. "Is everything alright?"

"Senator, I'm afraid we have a problem," he says, his voice loud and firm. The guests exchange looks, and a few stand. He ignores them, focusing on Vale. "There's been a threat."

Vale's eyes widen. "A threat? What kind of threat?"

"I can't go into details," he says, glancing at the others. A few senators and businessmen have already moved towards the door, their faces pale. He looks back at her, and her lips press into a thin line. "But it's a credible threat. You need to evacuate. Now."

Vale stares at him, her jaw clenched, and he can see the wheels turning in her head. She's going to say no. He knows it. She's going to refuse, and she's going to call his bluff, and this whole thing is going to be ruined.

But instead, she just nods.

"Alright, everyone. I'm afraid we'll have to cut our evening short," she says, her voice steady and calm. The remaining guests let out groans and protests, and a few begin gathering their belongings. She rises to her feet, smoothing out her dress. "If you could please follow me. The Commander will show us the way."

"You can't be serious," Senator Taa grumbles, his eyes narrowing. "This is preposterous. No one is going to threaten a senator in her own apartment. It's—"

"Sir, with all due respect, I am not asking," Thorn interjects. He gestures towards the door, his voice taking on a harder edge. "There is a credible threat against Senator Ishani's life. And if you do not evacuate, I will escort you out myself. By force, if necessary."

The Senator lets out a noise of indignation, and Thorn takes a step towards him, his hand moving to the hilt of his blaster.

"Senator," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Now."

Taa scoffs, but he follows the other guests as they make their way out the front door. Trina leads them down the hall towards the turbolift, and Thorn brings up the rear, making sure no one is left behind. He can hear the guests grumbling, their voices carrying through the corridor, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

He stands to the side as the group piles into the lift before holding his arm out, keeping Vale from stepping in.

"Not you, Senator," he says. She glances at him, confusion and frustration flickering across her face. "You're staying with me. Trina. You take the rest downstairs. I'll escort the Senator."

"Are you sure?" Trina asks, her eyes moving between them.

"Yes. Get them out. Make sure everyone's accounted for. We'll take the stairs."," he replies. He gives her a nod, a silent 'thank you', and her lips twitch.

"Got it, Commander," she says. She flashes him a grin, and the lift doors slide shut, the murmur of panicked voices cutting off abruptly. And finally, they're alone.

For a moment, they're both silent. Thorn's not sure what to say, and he's not even sure where to start. But before he can speak, Vale whirls around and hits him on the shoulder, the sound of her hand smacking against the plastoid loud in the empty corridor.

"You are so full of shit," she says through clenched teeth, glaring at him. "Did you make all that up?"

"I'm sorry," he blurts out. His shoulder stings, and he rubs it, trying to soothe the pain. "It was the only way to get them to leave."

"And now everyone thinks there's a bomb in my apartment," she growls. She runs her fingers through her hair, pulling at the ends, and lets out a frustrated groan.

"I didn't say that," he argues.

"Might as well have," she huffs and rolls her eyes. She leans against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest, and she's quiet for a moment, her expression unreadable.

"Are you mad?"

"Yes," she replies, and he winces. "I'm furious."

"I'm sorry," he says again, his stomach twisting.

"No, you're not," Vale snaps. Her eyes narrow, and she lets out a heavy sigh. "So what's really going on?"

"There's nothing wrong. Everything's fine," he says as his hand settles on her shoulder. She glances at it, and he pulls away, tucking his hand behind his back. "I just—I wanted you to myself. For a little while. You were so sad earlier, and I just...I wanted to make you feel better. And Trina suggested that we fake an emergency, and I—"

"Trina suggested this?"

He nods.

"And you went along with it?"

He nods again.

"You two are terrible," she says, letting out a disbelieving laugh. She shakes her head, a grin spreading across her face, and Thorn's shoulders sag with relief. "Kriff, I can't believe you did this. And for what? Just so you could have me to yourself?"

"Well, yeah," he mumbles, his cheeks heating up. He looks away, unable to meet her gaze, and a lump forms in his throat. "And so you could have a night off. You seemed really tired. And stressed. And I just...I didn't want you to be miserable anymore."

She's silent for a long moment, and he feels his heart start to pound. This was a mistake. This was a terrible, stupid, ridiculous idea, and now he's going to get his ass handed to him by both Vale and the Chancellor, and—

"Thorn," she whispers, her voice gentle, and the sound of his name on her lips makes him melt. She moves closer, and her hand comes up to rest on his chest, her fingers curling into the lip of his armor. "I...no one's ever done anything like this for me before."

"What, intimidate a bunch of people? Yeah, well, I'm a cop. It's kind of my job," he replies, trying to keep his tone light, and she laughs, her forehead resting against his chest plate.

"That's not what I mean," she says. Vale lifts her head, looking up at him. "Just, I don't know. Taking care of me. Putting me first. Making sure I'm okay. No one's ever done that before. Not like this. Not without expecting anything in return."

"Oh," he breathes, his chest tightening. He doesn't know what to say. All he knows is that the idea of someone not caring for her, not loving her, makes him sick. She deserves more than this. More than what he can give her. But he'll try, if she'll let him. "That's..."

"Stupid?" she asks, glancing up at him. "I know."

"No, not stupid. Just sad," he says, his hand moving to her cheek. Her eyes close, and she lets out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. "You deserve better. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, well, you're the first person to think so," she replies, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "At least in a long time."

"Well, I think so," Thorn says. "I don't know how anyone could see you and not want to take care of you."

"Stop," she murmurs, her cheeks turning pink.

"Why? It's true," he tells her, and her blush deepens. He tugs his helmet off and lets it fall to the ground, his hands moving to cradle her face. Her eyes open, and his breath catches at the pain and uncertainty and loneliness reflected there. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I think you deserve everything."

She laughs, a soft, broken sound that makes his chest ache, and she pulls away, her hand moving to her mouth as she wipes away a stray tear.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm just...really tired."

"Yeah, I bet," he says. His thumb brushes over her cheekbone, wiping away another tear. "How about you go take a bath or something? Get comfortable. And I'll, uh, clean up."

"What?" she says, blinking.

"Yeah, I'll clean up," he says, and she looks at him, her brow furrowing. "You know. Do some dishes. Wipe down the counters. Take out the trash. Stuff like that. It'll give you some time to decompress."

"Are you...are you offering to do my chores for me?" she asks, disbelief coloring her words.

"Uh, yes? Yes. That's exactly what I'm offering," he says. She shakes her head, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping her, and he frowns. "What? Do you not want me to?"

"I just can't believe this," she mutters.

"Can't believe what?"

"That you're offering to do chores for me. That you're being sweet and generous and thoughtful and just...you," she says, and Thorn feels his heart skip a beat. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I like you. Because I want you to be happy,” he replies, his voice soft. He presses another kiss to her forehead, and then her cheek, and then her temple, his lips trailing down her jaw. She lets out a soft noise, her eyes fluttering shut, and his hand slides from her cheek to the back of her neck, holding her in place. "You deserve to be taken care of. And I want to be the one to do it. If you'll let me."

Vale swallows, her mouth opening and closing, and a flush creeps up her neck and over her cheeks. Thorn smiles and presses another soft kiss to her lips, his thumb brushing her cheek. Her hands move to his chest, her fingers curling into his armor, and he wraps his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“I care about you. A lot,” he continues. He leans in, his forehead resting against hers. "And I just...I want you to be happy. Really happy. And I want to be the one who makes you happy."

"You do?"

"Of course," he replies, his eyes fluttering shut as her hands move up his chest, settling on his shoulders. "More than anything."

Her fingers dig into his armor, and his grip tightens, his pulse racing.

"Kriff, you're gonna make me cry," she murmurs, her voice cracking. She pulls away, wiping her eyes, and Thorn lets his hands drop, his fingers fidgeting nervously at his sides. "Sorry, I'm just—this is a lot."

"Yeah, it is," he agrees, his stomach churning.

"I don't...I don't know what to say," she admits. Her arms wrap around herself, and her shoulders hunch, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I...shit, I'm really bad at this."

"Bad at what?"

"Talking," she says, her nose wrinkling. She lets out a quiet laugh. "Being sincere, anyway.”

"You're doing fine," he says. His hands move to her waist, holding her gently, and her gaze returns to his. "Just take your time. We've got all night."

Vale smiles, a shy, uncertain smile that makes his stomach flip.

"Okay," she whispers. She takes a deep breath, and then another, her chest rising and falling. "Just, let me try and figure this out. It's...this is new."

"Take your time, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

She leans into him, her forehead resting against his shoulder, and her arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer. His hands slide down her sides, coming to rest on her hips, and he can feel her shaking, her muscles tense under his touch. He pulls her into a hug, holding her close, and her body relaxes, her shoulders slumping as she exhales.

"I don't know if I can do this," she mumbles into his armor. "I'm not...good at being open. With anyone. Especially not with—"

"Hey," he says, his fingers brushing through her hair. "It's okay. You don't have to explain."

She nods, her cheek rubbing against his plastoid, and he feels her arms tighten around his neck.

"I just...it's scary. Thinking about letting you in. About being with you. And not just because of my job, but because..."

"Because of what?"

"Because you make me feel things. Things I haven't felt in a long time. And it's overwhelming,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. "And it scares the hell out of me."

He nods, his chin brushing against the top of her head, and he holds her closer, his lips pressed into a thin line. He understands. The feelings she's describing are the same ones that are twisting in his gut. The ones that make his chest hurt and his stomach flip. The ones that keep him up at night and haunt his dreams. The ones that make him wish things were different.

The ones that make him hope for a future together.

"I know," he says. His hand moves to the back of her head, his fingers running through her hair. He closes his eyes, and his voice drops to a murmur. "But maybe we can be scared together."

She lets out a choked laugh, her arms pulling him closer.

"Maybe we can," she says. She tilts her head back, her gaze meeting his. There's a hint of sadness in her eyes, a sadness that makes his heart ache, and she smiles, a sad, crooked smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "But it's not fair to you. You shouldn't have to put up with me. Not when I can't even commit to dating."

"Baby, come on," Thorn sighs.

"No, I'm serious. This isn't a life," she says, shaking her head. Her eyes fill with tears, and she blinks, trying to hold them back. "I can't ask you to live like this."

"You're not asking. I'm choosing," he replies. He wipes a stray tear from her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. "Look, I'm not expecting anything from you. You don't have to commit. You don't have to decide anything. And we can stop, if that's what you want. But I'm here. Right now. And I'm choosing to be here, for as long as you'll let me."

Vale sniffs, her hands moving to his chest plate, and she blinks away the last remnants of her tears, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He watches her, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her hip, and a shiver runs through her, her body trembling under his touch.

"You're really good at this," she whispers. "Talking."

"Thanks," he says, his tone playful. "It's not always my strong suit, but I think you bring out the best in me."

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Well, for one thing, you make me want to do stupid shit," he tells her, and her eyes widen. He chuckles. "And two, you make me feel like it's worth the risk. That if I have to lie and deceive and play a role, it's worth it, because at the end of the day, I get to spend time with you."

"You're crazy," she says, and he shrugs, his lips curving into a smirk.

"Maybe. But you make me crazy," he replies. He tugs her closer, his hand sliding around her waist, and her eyes flutter shut. "In a good way. The best way."

"Yeah?" she asks, her voice soft.

"Definitely," he murmurs. His hand moves to her face, cupping her cheek, and her eyes open, her gaze fixed on his. She looks tired, but there's a brightness in her expression, a warmth in her eyes, that makes his heart skip a beat.

He's never been more sure of anything in his life.

"I know I'm not good at this," she says. She takes a deep breath, and then another, her fingers tapping on his chest plate. "And I know I'm not making things easy. But I want you to know that...I like spending time with you. More than anyone. And I care about you. A lot."

"That's all I need," Thorn whispers. He leans in, his lips brushing hers, and she presses up onto her toes, her hands moving to his cheeks. The kiss is soft and sweet and warm, and it makes him dizzy, his head spinning and his heart pounding. Her tongue slides over his lower lip, and he lets out a soft groan, his body responding to her touch.

Her fingers curl around his belt, bringing their bodies flush together, and he can't help but smile into the kiss, his hands sliding over her back. Her lips are still curved in a smile, and when she pulls away, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bright.

“Okay, I’m convinced,” she breathes, her nose brushing against his. She licks her lips, a smirk tugging at her mouth. "We should do stupid shit more often."

"Yeah?" he murmurs against her lips. He can feel her smile grow, her teeth grazing his lip, and his hand moves down her spine, his fingers dipping below the waistband of her dress. She sucks in a sharp breath, her fingers digging into his armor, and her hips arch into his, a low groan escaping him.

"Mhm," she hums, and her tongue slips past his lips.

Vale’s arms wrap around his neck, and her legs come up, wrapping around his waist. He's caught off guard by the sudden shift in her, but he manages to keep his footing, his hands gripping her hips and urging her higher. She lets out a soft whimper, her body pressing against his, and her tongue delves deeper into his mouth, tasting him, savoring him.

He kisses her back, his hand cradling the back of her head and pulling her closer, his other hand supporting her ass. Her hips roll against his, her movements slow and deliberate, and a strangled moan escapes him. His cock is straining against his codpiece, aching for her touch, and he can't help but buck his hips into hers, desperate for some kind of release.

"Vale," he murmurs against her lips, trying to keep his voice steady. He breaks away from the kiss, his forehead resting against hers, and lets out a shaky breath. "Not that I don't want to, but you're exhausted. I'm not going to—"

"I'm fine," she pants. She presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and then his cheek, and then his jaw, her lips dragging along his skin. "Just shut up and kiss me."

"Easy, sweetheart," he groans, and she lets out a low chuckle. Her tongue glides along his neck, and his cock throbs, his mind going blank.

"No," she whispers. Her teeth graze his throat, and he lets out a gasp. "Fuck me."

"You're—"

"Yes, I'm sure," she says, and his eyes snap open, his gaze meeting hers. “I want you. I’ve been wanting you all night. And if you don't do something about it, I'm going to go insane."

"Yeah?" he grunts, his heart pounding.

"Mhm," she hums, and her teeth sink into his skin, sucking a mark onto his neck. "Come on. Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Inside. Upstairs. My room," she says, her mouth still moving against his neck. He can feel her smile, her lips curving up against his skin, and her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging lightly. "I want to show you my bed.”

Thorn lets out a choked laugh. "Is that right?"

"Yep," she replies, pulling back and looking at him. Her eyes are dark and intense, and he swallows hard. "You did promise me everything, didn't you?"

"I did," he admits, his pulse racing.

"Good," she murmurs. She shifts her weight, her hips grinding against his, and his cock twitches. “And I intend to collect."

He stares at her, his eyes wide. He's not sure what to say. But when her lips curl into a grin, a devious, knowing smile, he knows he's lost.

"Okay. Yeah. Your room," he croaks, and he clears his throat. He shifts her weight, one arm curling under her ass to hold her steady. He takes a deep breath and bends his knees, scooping up his helmet with his free hand. "Let's go."

Vale lets out a soft laugh, her arms tightening around his neck, and he makes his way down the hall, towards the front door of the apartment.

The trip to her room seems to take forever. Every step is an effort, and his armor feels heavier than ever. He can't get there fast enough, and she's making it impossible. Her fingers are tangled in his hair, and her lips are pressed against his neck, and she keeps whispering all the things she's going to do to him. And all he can do is hold on and pray he doesn't drop her.

"You're gonna make me trip on the stairs, sweetheart," he growls as her hips rock against his, the motion torturously slow.

"Then hurry up," she murmurs, her mouth moving along his jaw.

"You're making it very difficult," he says. He stops, pausing on the landing, and turns his head, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Hold on. I'm gonna put my helmet back on. So you'll stop distracting me."

"Aw," she says, pouting.

"Trust me, it's for the best," he mutters. He holds her with one arm, balancing her as she sits on his forearm, and pulls his helmet on, securing it to his head.

It helps. Slightly. But she pulls down the collar of his blacks and resumes kissing him, her tongue tracing along the column of his neck, and he stumbles. He barely manages to stay upright, and her laughter fills the air, the sound echoing off the walls.

"I'm going to drop you," he warns.

"No, you won't," she purrs, and her teeth nip at his skin, her tongue soothing the bite

"I might," he mutters, taking the steps two at a time.

Thorn makes it up the last flight of stairs without incident, and Vale points the way, guiding him down the hall. She's still kissing him, still touching him, and he can't stop the groan that slips past his lips as they pass a mirror, the sight of her on his arm nearly overwhelming him.

Finally after what seems like an eternity, they reach the door, and he shoves his way through, stumbling into her bedroom. Vale hits the control panel, and the lights turn on, bathing the room in a soft, warm glow.

He can’t help the noise of surprise that escapes him as he looks around the room. Compared to the rest of the apartment, with its pristine white walls and elegant furniture, Vale's bedroom is almost jarring. It's a mix of different jewel-toned colors and textures, and the effect is both chaotic and calming. There are paintings and sculptures lining the walls, and an enormous bed sits in the middle of the room, piled high with blankets and pillows.

It’s also a mess, with clothes draped over a velvet armchair in the corner and stacks of books and datapads piled haphazardly on the nightstands. And the sight of it makes him smile.

"It's a bit much, isn't it?"

"What? No, it's amazing," he says, and he means it. It's a perfect reflection of her, the real her that he’s come to know over the last few months, and the sight of it fills him with warmth. "I love it."

He doesn't get a chance to look around further. Vale is pulling at his helmet, trying to remove it, and he obliges, setting her down on the floor before pulling it off. She takes it from him and tosses it onto the nearby chair, and then her lips are on his, her hands tugging at the front of his chest plate.

"Off. Now," she mumbles against his mouth, and he nods, his fingers fumbling with the buckles and straps. She pushes his hands away, and he lets her work, watching her deftly unclasp each buckle. “There’s too many damn latches on this thing. Who designs these uniforms anyway?"

“You’ll have to take that one up with the Kaminoans,” he says, pulling off his gloves as she frees his pauldron from his shoulder and lets it drop to the floor.

“Maybe I will,” she grumbles, and she presses a quick kiss to his lips before kneeling down in front of him. “Senator Burtoni has some serious explaining to do."

Her hands run down his thighs and back up again, her fingers brushing the bulge of his codpiece, and a soft noise escapes him, his head spinning. She smiles, her tongue running over her lower lip, and her gaze meets his as she works at his belt, undoing the buckle.

“Please don’t talk about Senator Burtoni right now," he groans as his belt falls to the floor.

"Right," she laughs. "Sorry. I got a little distracted."

"S’okay," he says, his voice rough. He's never seen anything more arousing than the sight of her on her knees in front of him. Her dress has ridden up her thighs, exposing a long expanse of creamy tan skin, and her fingers are hooked in his belt loops, tugging his body closer. From where he stands, he can see down the front of her dress, and the swell of her breasts, pushed up and spilling out of the top of her bodice, is almost too much.

Her eyes meet his as she slides his codpiece off and sets it next to her, and the hungry look on her face makes his blood run hot. She doesn't break eye contact, her gaze fixed on him, and his hands curl into fists at his sides as she leans forward and mouths at the outline of his cock, her tongue tracing the rigid line through the fabric of his blacks.

"Fuck," he breathes. Her eyes flutter shut as her mouth moves lower, her teeth grazing the thick length of his shaft, and his hips jerk involuntarily, a low moan rumbling in his chest. "Don't do that. You're gonna make me come."

She pauses and pulls back, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Already? We're just getting started," she teases, and her fingers wrap around his ankles, pushing his boots off. "Take your greaves off."

He does as he's told, tugging off his leg armor and tossing it aside, and her hands move up his calves, over his knees and up his thighs, her fingers trailing along the muscles beneath the tight material. His breath catches in his throat as her fingers trace the outline of his cock once more, her thumb brushing over the head. A wet spot is spreading across the front of his blacks, the tip of his cock leaking and straining against the fabric, and she leans in and presses a kiss to the damp material, her tongue teasing his aching shaft.

His head spins and his legs shake, and he knows that if he doesn't sit down soon, he's going to fall. He looks around, trying to find somewhere to rest, but her hands are already pulling at the waistband of his blacks, sliding them over his hips and down his thighs, and his cock springs free, slapping against his stomach.

"Oh," she murmurs, her lips curving into a smirk, and her eyes flick up to meet his, her fingers wrapping around his shaft. "You weren't kidding."

"Nope," he groans.

Her thumb brushes over the slit, spreading the precum leaking from the head, and he bites back a groan, his hands clutching the bedpost. She leans in and presses a kiss to the base of his shaft, and his hips jerk forward, the soft brush of her lips and her warm breath sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine. There’s a faint red mark left behind, the remnants of her lipstick smudged on his skin, and the sight of it is almost enough to send him over the edge.

Her tongue traces the vein running up the underside of his cock and swirls around the head before flicking over the sensitive skin of his slit. His grip on the bedpost tightens, his knuckles turning white, and a strangled moan escapes him, his body tensing.

She looks up at him as her lips close around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling lazily, and his hips jerk forward, thrusting deeper into her mouth. She gags and pulls back, a soft moan escaping her as her hand strokes his shaft, her tongue tracing the vein.

"I'm sorry," he pants. "I didn't mean—"

"Don't apologize," she says, shaking her head. "I liked it. I just wasn't expecting it."

She smiles and takes him in her mouth once more, her hand gripping the base of his cock. She works him slowly, taking him deeper with each bob of her head until he's buried in her throat, her lips wrapped tightly around him. Her tongue drags over the underside of his shaft, the tip tracing along the vein, and she swallows, her throat working around the head.

"Fuck," he groans, his head falling back. "Your mouth..."

She moans, the sound muffled by his cock, and his hips thrust forward, his eyes fluttering shut. He can feel her fingers dig into his thigh as her other hand moves between his legs, cupping his balls and rolling them gently in her palm. His eyes open, his gaze focused on her, and she stares up at him as her lips move along his shaft, her cheeks hollowed out.

“Vale, I’m gonna—fuck, you need to stop," he gasps. His cock twitches, and a fresh wave of precum leaks from the tip, coating her tongue. "I can't—it's too much."

She lets out another moan and swallows around the head of his cock, her eyes never leaving his. He's close, the tension building in his stomach and the tightness in his balls telling him that he won't last much longer, and he tries to pull away, his hands moving to her shoulders.

"Come on," she whispers, pulling off him with a wet pop. She licks her lips and strokes him, her hand twisting and gliding up and down his shaft. "Don't fight it. Let go."

"Fuck," he breathes, his grip on her shoulders tightening.

"You deserve this," she says. Her thumb runs over the tip of his cock, gathering the precum that's leaked out and spreading it along the length of his shaft. "Don't hold back. Give me what I want."

"But—"

"I've been waiting all night," she murmurs, and her hand speeds up, her fingers squeezing him tighter. He can’t help but groan, his hips bucking forward, his cock thrusting through the tight ring of her fist. "Please."

The plea is his undoing. He can't deny her anything, and the sight of her on her knees, begging him to come, is too much. His cock twitches, and a strangled moan escapes him, the sound echoing off the walls as his orgasm washes over him in a wave of heat and pleasure and relief. His head falls back, and his eyes squeeze shut, his hips jerking and thrusting wildly as his cock pulses, spilling onto her hand and the front of her dress.

For a moment, all he can do is stand there and pant, his heart racing and his pulse pounding. He's dimly aware of the feeling of her hand on his cock, milking him through his orgasm, and her other hand, gently squeezing his balls, but he can't seem to focus on anything else. All he can do is stand there, trying to catch his breath, his mind reeling from the intensity of his release.

Finally, his eyes open, and he looks down, his heart skipping a beat at the sight before him.

She's looking up at him, her face flushed and her lips curved into a sly smile, and his cum is dripping from her chin and the front of her dress, splattered across her chest. She looks like a goddess, and it takes everything he has not to drop to his knees and worship her.

"Kriff," he mutters, his voice hoarse. He offers her his hand, and she takes it, rising gracefully to her feet. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah," he croaks. He glances down, taking in the mess, and his cheeks flush. "I didn't mean to—I got your dress."

"Don't worry about it," she says, grinning. She holds her hand up, examining the sticky strands of his release covering her fingers. "It'll come out. Besides, I wanted you to."

"You did?"

"Mhm," she replies. Her tongue darts out, and she licks a stripe across her palm, gathering his release on her tongue. "I like the way you taste."

"Fuck," he hisses. He can't look away, his eyes locked on her mouth as she sucks her finger into her mouth and licks it clean, her tongue sliding over her knuckles. She makes a show of it, her tongue swirling and licking, and he can't take his eyes off her. It's obscene, and filthy, and kriffing perfect, and it makes his stomach flip and his spent cock twitch.

She pulls her fingers from her mouth, and a strand of saliva stretches between them. He leans in, catching her lips with his and tasting himself on her tongue. The kiss is heated and messy and desperate, and his hand moves to her neck, holding her in place as he plunders her mouth.

"So good," he murmurs against her lips. His fingers slide through her hair, and he cups the back of her head, kissing her deeply. "You're amazing. And perfect. And kriffing incredible."

She smiles, her nose wrinkling, and she pulls away, a small, amused sound escaping her. "That's the orgasm talking."

"No, it's not," he says. He presses a soft kiss to her cheek, his lips lingering on her skin. "I mean it."

"Well, in that case," she murmurs, and she pulls away, her lips curled into a playful smile. "How long do you need?"

"Not long," he says. He glances down at his cock, still half-hard, and grins. "You have that effect on me."

"Good. I need to get out of this dress," she replies, and she steps back, her fingers pulling at the sash around her waist. “And take this kriffing makeup off. I feel like a clown."

"I liked it. It was pretty," he says, and she rolls her eyes, untying the belt. He moves closer to her as it falls to the floor, his hand sliding up her back to find the zipper on the side of her dress. “Especially the lipstick."

"Oh yeah?" she breathes, her head tilting back. He pulls the zipper down, the dress parting to reveal her soft, brown skin, and he presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, his tongue darting out to taste her.

"Mhm," he hums. His lips trail along her shoulder and down her collarbone, his teeth grazing her skin. "The red really suits you."

She smiles, a breathless laugh escaping her, and his hand slides under the dress, pushing it off her shoulders and letting it pool at her feet. He finds the clasp of her bra and unclips it, his fingers tracing over the straps and sliding them down her arms.

"Thanks," she whispers.

The bra joins the growing pile of clothes, and he steps back, his eyes moving greedily over her naked body. He's seen her like this before, in the dark, when her body was hidden by the shadows, and once in the moonlight of her quarters on Atrisia. But seeing her here, in her own space, where she's most comfortable, is something else entirely.

Her skin is lighter than his, a warm brown that's several shades darker than her hair, and her nipples are a dusky rose, hardening under his gaze. Her body is toned, her muscles firm and defined, but she's soft too, with wide hips and plush thighs, and the sight of her is almost as overwhelming as the first time.

He wants to kiss her. Everywhere. From the tips of her toes to the top of her head. He wants to worship her. He wants to show her what it's like to be cared for, and loved, and cherished. He wants to show her how special she is, and how worthy she is, and how deserving she is of all the good things in the galaxy.

He wants to make her his.

"Vale, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Thorn whispers.

Her cheeks turn pink, and she smiles, the shy expression making his heart ache.

"Thank you," she says. She turns and moves towards the refresher, and he watches her, his eyes tracing the curves of her body. Her ass is perfect, round and firm and full, and his hand itches to touch her, to run his fingers over her skin and sink into her flesh. She glances at him over her shoulder, and a smirk tugs at her lips. "Just give me a second, and then I'm all yours."

"Okay," he says, his voice thick with desire. He clears his throat and shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "You want a drink? While you get ready?"

"Sure. There's some whiskey and glasses in the cabinet," she calls over her shoulder. She disappears through the doorway, and he lets out a breath, his heart hammering in his chest.

He can't believe this is happening. It seems surreal. He feels like he's dreaming, like any moment, he'll wake up and she'll be gone, and he'll be alone in his bunk. But this is real. This is happening. And the knowledge makes his head spin.

His legs shake as he crosses the room, his feet nearly tangling in her discarded dress, and he stoops down, picking it up. He folds it carefully and sets it on the nearby dresser before moving towards the cabinet she mentioned, his gaze sweeping over the room.

There are shelves lining the walls, filled with books and knick-knacks and art. Some of the items are familiar, at least one painting that must be from the same artist as the one in her office, and a few of the sculptures remind him of the ones that he saw on her desk. But there's so much more. So many little pieces of her, little pieces of her life, spread out before him.

It's strange. Standing in her room, surrounded by her things, feels oddly intimate. Like he's peeking into a secret world. A private space, where she's allowed only the people she trusts. And now he's a part of it.

He can't help but notice there are no pictures. No images of her family, or friends, or former lovers. Just the artwork, and the sculptures, and the books, and the little trinkets that he's not even sure the purpose of. It's as if the rest of the galaxy, everyone she's ever known, doesn't exist. Or doesn't matter.

And maybe it doesn't. Maybe this is enough. Maybe he's enough.

Thorn shakes his head and turns his attention to the cabinet. It's a small, ornate piece of furniture, carved from a dark wood and polished to a shine. He opens it and reaches inside, his hand closing around a glass decanter filled with amber liquid. Two crystal glasses, etched with elaborate patterns, are tucked in beside it.

He takes the bottle and the glasses and crosses the room, stepping into the refresher. The room is large, easily twice the size of his own, and it's just as impressive, with white marble tiles and dark wooden cabinets and a sunken tub big enough for three people. It's as messy as the rest of her room, with hair products and creams and powders littering the counter, and the sight of it makes him smile.

"Whiskey, huh? This any good?" he asks. He sets the glasses and bottle on the counter, next to a collection of various beauty products, and grabs the edge, hauling himself up.

Vale glances at him out of the corner of her eye, a washcloth pressed to her cheek. His gaze travels down her body, drinking her in, and his mouth goes dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"Uh, I think so," she says, and his eyes snap back to her face. She tosses the cloth into the sink, and turns, her eyebrow raising. "Why? Don't tell me you don't drink, Commander."

"No, no, I do," he replies, pouring a healthy amount of whiskey into each glass. He picks up one of the glasses, holding it out to her, and she smiles, crossing the room to accept it. "I just don't know much about the expensive stuff. I tend to stick with the swill they give us for free at 79s."

"Fair enough," she says, and her hand brushes his as she takes the glass, the simple touch sending a spark of electricity up his arm. "This is a gift from Senator Paulness. It's the kind of thing you get if you can't decide what to get someone."

"Not a fan?"

"Not particularly," she says, a grimace spreading across her face. "But I can't complain. Free alcohol is free alcohol."

"Cheers to that," he says. He lifts his glass and clinks it against hers, and then takes a sip.

The whiskey burns, but it's good. Smooth, with a hint of caramel, and a warmth spreads through him, his muscles relaxing. It's not his usual drink, but it's not bad. And as long as it's free, and Vale is next to him, naked, he's not going to say no.

He watches in fascination as she drinks from her glass and sets it aside before beginning to remove her jewelry. Her earrings come off one by one, followed by the bangles and rings on her wrists and fingers, and she places each piece carefully into a velvet box sitting open on the counter.

It's such a simple thing, watching her get ready for bed, and he doesn't want it to end. He likes seeing her like this, her guard down, her expression soft and open. He likes the intimacy of it. The quiet. The trust.

"How's the drink?" she asks, reaching behind her neck to unhook her necklace.

"It's good," he replies. He takes another sip, letting the liquid coat his tongue, and a pleasant warmth settles in his stomach. "Really good."

"Mm. Glad to hear it," she hums. Her fingers fumble with the clasp, and her brow furrows. "Shit. This thing is always getting stuck."

"Want some help?" he asks, setting his glass on the counter.

"No, it's fine. I've got it," she says, her gaze returning to the mirror. She tries again, her fingers tugging at the ends of the chain, but the clasp doesn't budge, and she lets out a quiet huff of frustration.

"Here, let me," he says, and he moves behind her, his hand brushing against hers. She sighs and drops her hands, and he takes the ends of the necklace, his fingers deftly undoing the clasp. "There. Easy."

"Thanks," she mumbles.

"Of course," he replies as he drops the necklace into the box with the rest of her jewelry. He places a kiss on the back of her neck before he begins to remove the pins from her hair. "What are boyfriends for?"

Vale lets out a small, strangled noise, and his heart skips a beat, his hand freezing in her hair. He hadn't meant to say that. The word slipped out, and now he's wondering if he's made a mistake. If it's too much.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have—it just came out," he stammers, and she lets out a low laugh, the sound washing over him like a wave.

"No, no, it's okay. It's good," she says. She shakes her head, and her eyes meet his in the mirror. They're wide and bright, and her lips are curled into a soft smile, her cheeks flushed. "I like it. It sounds...right."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Yeah," she says, and her gaze returns to the mirror, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. "Boyfriend."

She says the word quietly, like she's testing it out, and his heart flutters, a warmth spreading through him. It does sound right, and he's surprised by how good it feels. How natural. Like it's supposed to be. Like it's meant to be.

"Well, good," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the back of her neck. "Because you're my girlfriend."

"Good," she replies, her voice soft.

His hands move slowly, pulling out the pins and combs and other ornaments holding her hair in place, and she lets out a contented sigh, her eyes closing. He's not sure why, but there's something about the intimacy of the moment that's making his chest tight. Something about the way she's leaning against him. About the fact that she's allowing him to be here, in this moment.

It's not sexual. It's not passionate. It's not even particularly romantic. It's just a small, simple thing. A quiet, tender moment, between two people who care about each other. And it means more than anything.

"There. That's the last one," he says, dropping the last pin into the box. He runs his fingers through her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "All done."

"Thank you," she murmurs.

"No problem, sweetheart," he replies.

He pulls back, and she opens her eyes, her gaze meeting his in the mirror. She takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling, and he watches her, his hands settling on her waist.

"I'm really glad you're here," she says. Her eyes flutter shut, and her head falls back, resting against his chest. "And not just because I'm drunk, and horny, and have had the worst day ever."

"Oh yeah?" he asks, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her hips.

"Yeah," she whispers, her eyes opening once more. "I missed you. All week."

"Me too," he murmurs, and his hand slides up her back, coming to rest on her shoulder. He kneads the muscles there, working the knots out of her skin, and a small moan escapes her, her body relaxing into his.

"I didn't really have a plan for tonight," she admits, her voice barely audible. "I mean, I knew the dinner would be awful. But I wasn't sure about what would happen after. I didn't know if you'd want to stay, or—"

"Why wouldn't I want to stay?" Thorn asks. He pauses, his thumbs digging into a particularly tense muscle, and a strangled groan slips past her lips.

"Because it's late. And I'm a mess. And you have work tomorrow," she mumbles, her cheeks flushing. "I just...didn't want you to feel obligated or anything."

"Obligated," he repeats as his hands still, and she winces.

"Yes. Obligated. To sleep with me," she says. She looks away, her gaze dropping, and a nervous laugh escapes her. "Gods, it sounds even more stupid when I say it out loud. But it's just...I didn't want you to think that—"

"That you're just using me for sex?"

"Yes," Vale mutters, and she runs her hand through her hair. "Or that I expect sex, or anything else, from you. You're more than just a warm body to me. I hope you know that."

"I do. Of course, I do," he says, his hands settling on her waist. His thumbs rub soothing circles over her skin, and he presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. "And for the record, I would love to stay. If you'll have me."

"I want you to," she breathes. She leans back against him, and his arms wrap around her, his nose nuzzling the crook of her neck.

"I'm glad. Because I want to stay," he murmurs. "With you. In your bed. Where we can cuddle and fall asleep together. Where I can wake up with you in my arms."

She lets out a quiet groan. "You're gonna make me cry, saying things like that."

"Good tears?"

"Yes," she says, smiling. Her hand finds his, and their fingers lace together. "The best."

Thorn smiles, his mouth pressing against her neck, and his tongue traces a line up to her ear. Her eyes flutter shut, her hair falling around her face as his teeth sink into her skin. He watches their reflection in the mirror, the image of them wrapped around each other making his heart skip. He can't help but marvel at how perfectly they fit together, how natural it feels to have her in his arms, his mouth on her skin.

He wonders how he ever thought this would be a bad idea. How he could ever have resisted the temptation of her. Because being with her, holding her, feeling her against him, is the best thing he's ever felt. And he doesn't know how he's going to be able to leave.

"Come on, baby. Let's go to bed," he whispers.

Vale nods, her eyes still closed.

He pulls away, and she turns towards him, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. She tilts her head back, her gaze fixed on his, and her fingers trail over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His arms come up, wrapping around her, and he cups her cheek, his thumb running over the curve of her bottom lip.

She leans into his touch, her lips parting, and her tongue darts out and brushes over his finger. She pulls it into her mouth, sucking lightly, and he bites back a groan, his cock twitching. His fingers curl under her chin, and his other hand comes up, sliding through her hair before his mouth descends on hers.

The kiss is soft and slow, a gentle exploration. Their tongues slide together, the taste of the whiskey lingering on her tongue, and his heart pounds in his chest. He doesn't know what it is about her, but everything about her makes him feel alive. The way her tongue swirls over his. The way her teeth scrape over his lower lip. The way her hands grip his shoulders. It’s all so good. And it’s all so worth it.

"Come on," he murmurs against her lips. His hands slide down her back, and he grabs her ass, lifting her off the ground. She lets out a soft moan as her legs wrap around his waist, her arms draping over his shoulders, and he grins. "Time for bed."

She giggles, the sound sending a shiver up his spine, and he carries her out of the refresher, crossing the room to the massive bed that dominates the center of the space. He sets her down on the mattress and climbs up after her, his mouth returning to hers. She rolls onto her back, pulling him on top of her, and his hips slot between her thighs, his cock pressing against her warm, wet heat.

"Fuck," he groans as his erection slides along her slit, his tip catching on her entrance. His hands find her hips, and he rocks forward, teasing her. "You're so wet. Is this all for me?"

"Yes," she gasps. Her head falls back, exposing her neck, and his mouth closes over her pulse, his teeth scraping over her skin. "It's all for you."

"Good," he growls. His tongue slides over the spot, and he sucks, pulling the flesh between his teeth and marking her. He knows it's possessive. Needy. And he doesn't care. "You're mine."

"Yours," she breathes.

"That's right," he murmurs against her neck. He trails his lips up to her jaw and then her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. His fingers grip her hip as his other hand moves up her side, brushing the underside of her breast before moving higher. "Every inch of you."

She whimpers, her hands clutching at his back. His thumb rubs over her nipple, and she arches into him, her back curving, her hips rocking against his. He grinds into her, his cock sliding between her slick folds, and his mouth moves lower, trailing kisses down her neck and across her chest. His tongue drags over her collarbone before dipping between the valley of her breasts.

"Thorn," she whines, her nails digging into his shoulders.

"What?"

"Don't tease," she pants. Her hands come up and bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

"No? You don't want me to tease you?" he asks, and his mouth moves lower, his tongue tracing over the swell of her breast. "You don't want me to take my time and show you how much I appreciate every part of your body? How amazing you are?"

"Later," she groans. "Right now, I need you inside me. Please."

"Whatever you want, sweetheart," he says, his mouth moving lower to suck a nipple in his mouth before releasing it with a wet pop. "Anything for my girlfriend."

"I'll remember you said that," she murmurs as her back arches, her hips thrusting up, trying to find him. "I'll hold you to it."

"You can," he promises. His hand slides up her thigh and over her stomach before coming to rest between her legs, his thumb rubbing over her clit. She lets out a muffled cry, her eyes squeezing shut, and her head falls back, her chest heaving. "You can get it in writing, if you want.”

She laughs softly and then lets out a low moan as his thumb moves lower and slides between her folds, gathering her wetness. He lifts his hand to his mouth and sucks her juices off his fingers before wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

"I want to hear you," he murmurs against her lips. His hand moves between them, lining his cock up with her entrance, and she lets out a desperate, needy sound. "I want to feel you. All of you."

"Please," she whispers.

Her fingers curl in his hair, and he captures her mouth, kissing her deeply. His hips rock forward, pushing his cock into her tight, wet heat, and they moan into each other's mouths, their bodies molding together.

He moves slowly at first, his hips moving languidly, taking his time and savoring every sensation. Every slide of her walls. Every flutter of her muscles. Every little noise she makes. He commits it all to memory, knowing he's never going to forget a single moment of this.

Vale breaks the kiss and gasps, her hips rocking up to meet his thrusts. Her arms wrap around his neck, her hands cradling his head, and she pulls him down, her forehead pressing against his. Their eyes meet, and the intensity of her gaze makes his head spin, the desire he sees reflected there taking his breath away.

"Look at you," he breathes, his hips snapping against hers. "Kriffing perfect."

"So are you," she says. Her mouth opens, a desperate moan escaping her, and he picks up the pace, his thrusts growing deeper and harder, his balls slapping against her ass. "Thorn—kriff, you're so good. So fucking good."

"You too, sweetheart," he murmurs, and he presses a quick kiss to her mouth. His hands slide under her hips, gripping her ass and lifting her off the bed as he rises up onto his knees, her legs wrapping around his waist. "I've missed you so much.”

"Me too," she whimpers, her head falling back as she props herself up on her elbows. "I've missed having you inside me."

The confession has him thrusting faster, his hips pistoning, and her back curves, her body moving to meet his every thrust. The sounds of their coupling fill the room, the slap of their bodies echoing off the walls, and his hands grip her ass, spreading her wide.

His eyes move down her body and between them, his gaze locked on where they're joined, and his hips stutter, a choked moan escaping him. She's soaking wet, his cock shining with her arousal as he pounds into her, sliding easily in and out of her tight heat. Her slick is smeared across her inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets, and the sight of her glistening folds and his thick shaft stretching her open makes his cock throb.

"Gods, look at you," he pants, his gaze traveling up her body, admiring the view. Her breasts bounce with each thrust, her nipples hard and pink, and her face is flushed, her mouth hanging open, her lips swollen and wet. She looks like a goddess, her dark hair spread out on the pillow, and the sight of her nearly sends him over the edge. "You're a goddess."

She smiles and moans as her head falls back once more, her legs tightening around his waist.

"Keep talking," she gasps, her hips rolling up to meet his. "Please."

"You like that?" he growls. He fucks her harder, his fingers digging into her flesh, and his hands squeeze her ass, pulling her closer. "You like when I tell you how perfect you are? How good you feel? How much I want to fuck you until you can't walk straight?"

"Yes," she hisses, her body shaking.

"And how I want to wake up with my cock buried deep inside you?" he continues. He reaches between them and finds her clit, his thumb rubbing quick, firm circles around it, and her eyes roll back, a strangled groan slipping past her lips. "How I want to spend every night like this, filling you up? How I want to come home to you every night and worship you?"

"Oh fuck," she groans. Her back arches, and her head presses against the pillow, her hips rocking wildly, matching his thrusts. Her body is trembling, her thighs quivering, and her chest heaves, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "I'm gonna—Thorn, I'm so close. Please."

"Let go," he orders. He leans over her, his hips slamming against hers, and her eyes fly open, locking on his. He can feel her tense, her body coiling tightly, and her muscles clench around him, sucking him deeper and pulling a groan from his lips. "Come for me."

"Thorn," she cries out as her orgasm slams into her. Her body spasms and shakes, her mouth opening in a silent scream. He fucks her through it, driving deep into her clenching channel and stroking her through her release, his thumb never leaving her clit. She whines and squirms under him, her body trembling and her pussy clenching around his cock.

"That's it, sweetheart. So good," he murmurs.

She's soaked, her arousal leaking from her and coating his thighs, and he can feel her clench around him. Her hips grind against his, her back arching off the bed as she chases her pleasure, and he groans, his thrusts speeding up, his own orgasm building. He's not going to last much longer. He can feel it. His balls are heavy and tight, his cock pulsing, and the familiar tension is starting to build, coiling tighter and tighter.

"Please, please," she pants. Her hands claw at his back, her nails raking over his skin. Her head falls to the side, her mouth opening in a quiet, desperate whimper, and her hips lift, her body seeking more, always more. "More."

"You want more?" he growls, his hips snapping forward. His pace is frantic, his movements rough and hard and fast, and she lets out a strangled cry, her eyes squeezing shut. "You're greedy."

“For you,” she gasps, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.

He groans and shifts his weight, bearing down on her until her hips are pinned beneath him and his body is flush against hers. Her legs tighten around his waist, her ankles digging into his lower back, and his thrusts slow, each one deliberate and deep. Her breath hitches every time he bottoms out inside her, and her hips rock up, grinding against him, trying to draw him in deeper, her body craving his.

"Oh fuck, Thorn," she whimpers, her back arching, her chest pressing against his. Her body tenses, her muscles straining, and her head tips back, her mouth hanging open in a silent cry. "Please."

"What do you want?" he asks. He's close, the tension coiled in his belly ready to snap, but he’s determined to feel her come around him one more time before he loses himself in her. He wants her pleasure more than his own, and he knows it won't take much. She's already halfway there.

"You," she whines, and her head falls back, her eyes squeezing shut. "Kriff, please. Please, please—"

"Please what?"

"Come inside me," she gasps, and his hips stutter, a strangled moan ripping from his throat. Her muscles clench, her body pulling him deeper, and she's so wet, her pussy slick with her arousal, that his thrusts are loud and obscene. "Fill me up. Claim me."

"Fuck," he groans. His head drops forward and his mouth finds hers, his lips slanting over hers in a searing kiss. He can't resist her anymore, his body giving in to his own desires, and his hips snap forward, his thrusts speeding up, his movements turning frantic. "So fucking good. Mine."

"Yours," she gasps against his mouth.

He can feel her shudder beneath him as her orgasm hits her again, her muscles tightening around him, and the pressure that had been building finally snaps. He lets out a loud groan, and his release hits him like a wave, crashing over him and leaving him breathless. He grinds into her on one final thrust, pushing his cock as deep inside her as he can, and his hips jerk forward, his body shuddering as his cum spills into her, filling her completely.

"Fuck, Vale," he moans, his lips pressed against her neck. He can't seem to stop himself from grinding into her, his cock twitching and jerking as his release coats her insides and leaks out around him, staining the sheets. She feels incredible. So warm and wet and soft and perfect. He doesn't want it to end.

"Thorn," she whimpers. Her legs tighten around his waist as her body pulses around him, drawing every last drop from him, and her fingers clutch at his back, her nails digging into his skin. "Kriff, you feel so good."

"You're perfect," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "Everything about you. I've missed this. I've missed you."

"Me too," she gasps.

Her hands grip his shoulders, holding him close, and he lets his weight rest on her, his head resting against her shoulder, his forehead pressed to her neck. She smells like her usual perfume and the flowery soap she uses and something that's uniquely her. Something sweet and earthy and warm. He breathes her in, letting the scent wash over him, and his hands come up, tangling in her hair.

For a moment, all they can do is lie there, panting, their bodies entwined, trying to catch their breath. It's been a long time since he's felt like this. Completely relaxed and sated and at peace. And he never wants it to end. He wants to stay like this forever.

Eventually, he rolls over, pulling her with him and holding her close, her body resting on his chest. His hand strokes her hair and down her back, and he presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, his heart fluttering as her breath tickles his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his fingers trailing up and down her spine before he presses his palm to her lower back and tugs her closer.

"Yeah. I'm good," she replies. Her fingers splay across his chest, and her hand slides along his skin, her nails scraping lightly over his pecs and abs. She traces a small pattern over his chest before resting her palm above his heart, her fingers curling against his skin. "Better than good, actually."

"Good," he murmurs, and a contented sigh escapes her. Her lips brush over his collarbone and her nose nuzzles his neck, her body curling into his, and a warm, comfortable feeling settles over him, making him feel lighter than he has in a long time.

“Did you mean what you said? About coming home to me every night?" she asks, her voice low.

"Yes. Absolutely," he says. His arms wrap around her, pulling her close, and he presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, breathing her in. "If you'll have me."

"I'd like that," she says, her lips brushing his neck, her breath warm on his skin. She presses another soft kiss to his shoulder and then his collarbone before shifting slightly, resting her head against his chest. "I'd like it a lot."

"So would I," he murmurs, and she smiles, her fingers tracing idle patterns over his chest.

They lie like that for a while, just holding each other, enjoying the closeness. There's no rush. No need to hurry or get dressed and leave. There's just the two of them, tangled together, and the soft, steady rhythm of their breathing.

He's never felt this comfortable before, and the realization makes his stomach flip, his heart skipping a beat. This is different than anything else he's experienced. It's new and exciting and scary and overwhelming. And it feels right.

"So,” Vale says after a few moments, her voice soft, and she props herself up on her elbow, her head resting in her hand, her gaze meeting his. "About those boyfriend duties."

"Oh.” He blinks, and then nods, smiling up at her. “Yeah. Of course. Whatever you need.”

"I'm just kidding. Mostly," she laughs, her hand moving up his neck and cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing over his stubble. "But I believe you owe me dessert."

"Oh, I do, do I?" he asks, and she grins, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Mhm," she murmurs. Her lips brush over his before pulling back, her gaze meeting his. "Or did you forget that you chased my guests out without giving them a chance to enjoy the cake?"

"How could I forget?” he laughs. His hands slide down her back and cup her ass, giving it a light squeeze, and she squeaks, her eyes widening. Thorn grins and gives her another quick squeeze before releasing her, his hands sliding up to her hips.

"So?"

"So," he murmurs. He kisses her again, and she lets out a quiet sigh, her tongue swiping across his bottom lip. "Let's clean up and get some dessert, then."

"Dessert," she breathes, her nose bumping against his. "Then more of this."

"Senator, you have yourself a deal.”

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @champagnejaig

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland