It was strange, Farie had to admit, that they complemented each other so well. Arden Motti was hardly the type of man she had expected to be partnered with, but here they were, several days into their engagement, and already she had adjusted to the arrogance and the bluster, quite willing to act his trophy wife.

But then, those of the aristocracy did not pursue the fanciful ideas of Love and Truth. Honour and Beauty were more becoming to the ancient Houses, Poise and Elegance the mantra sung by all ladies of high birth, aiming to make a good match with a worthy man.

Whilst in private, however, she was not nearly so subservient. And this little game right now was proof of that. A derivative of Sabacc, its cards and rules were much harder to manipulate and cheat with, as well as having been more refined than the versions played across the galaxy by the lower classes.

Farie was used to winning, or at least having her partner politely concede to her. Unfortunately her fiancée was not that kind of man, as the gleeful look written on his face portrayed in response to her showing her hand.

"No, I'm afraid I've won again, my dear..." There was no sympathy in that voice, only amusement at her loss, and arrogance at the victory over his woman. Farie averted her eyes, hiding her displeasure at her poor start... damn, Arden, you won again...

Looking from the small pile of displaced cards to Arden, his devilish smile with her even as she closed her eyes.

This would not do; he was sure to rub her nose in it now. Last time they had engaged in this game, she had won, and he had been on the point of annoyance. Now he was sure to be nearing the edge of obnoxiousness... but she wouldn't have it any other way. Arden was all hers, as she was his.

And now he'd won their second game. Sighing as she collected up the cards from the table and rearranged them, she ignored him as he eyed her up, watching her reaction to losing to him, a smile curling his lip, or perhaps it was a sneer.

"You play well for a woman, Farie. Unfortunately not well enough." He had a tone in his voice, a tone she did not like. No one else had ever spoken to her like that.

She got a grip on herself; she was his now, technically, since their engagement had been announced and they were living together. Her family had been unhappy about this arrangement, but they really had no choice. The name Motti commanded a certain amount of respect, and Farie's family had been most eager to make such connections.

He was trying to wind her up purposefully. She knew this man too well, despite their lack of time together. She knew the games he played, especially the mind games he took particular fun in bestowing. He just wanted a reaction, to incense her and make her angry... To what end she could only guess, but she was certain it was unsavoury and unbecoming of her rank.

"You asked your fiancée to play an innocent game of cards with you. I had not thought you would take it so seriously." She spoke with a flick of her hair, a look of casual indifference on her face as he carefully reached across to touch her face, starting yet another round of banter to make their game all the more vital to win. She carefully stood up, disliking the contact.

"You, above all others, know the importance of these little interactions, my dear, let us not fool ourselves." Before she realised, Arden had appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her hips, a hint of subterfuge in his voice. "We are to be man and wife; we are, in theory, equals."

She sneered, amused by the irony of this. Arden would not allow her to rule anything with him; he had to be the best in everything, or he would himself wind up annoyed that he couldn't be the best. He couldn't accept that he wasn't perfect. He was a man, an admiral too, and so she could never be his equal.

Putting this to the back of her mind, she smiled as she felt him kiss along the curve of her neck, nipping gently with his teeth, his hands sensuously stroking up and down the length of her body, paying particular attention to the swell in the fabric that outlined her bust. Yes, he was a man, but that could also be a weakness.

"You mean you just want me there to be your little toy? I need more satisfaction than that, my love." Her back arched, following as his hands trailed down to the base of her spine, the fingers as icy cold as his outward façade.

"You're much more than that, you know that... although after tonight, there will be much satisfaction to be had, for the both of us..." He nuzzled her gently, and smiled to himself as he outlined the shell of her ear, dipping his tongue into the folds of rigid pale skin, feeling her shudder in his arms.

Virginity was prized, and of course she had been kept quite safe from any man who might manipulate her, though she knew it to be her greatest weapon also. So long as no-one found out...

"You'd be more, if you were not so easily drawn into seduction," she retorted.

His grip tightened, holding her suffocatingly close to his person. His expression was one of affront; he was clearly disgusted by this show of aggression from her, but also aroused by it. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad start.

"You'd speak to me in such a way?" he whispered huskily into her ear, busying himself with the buttons on her shirt. One pale, spider-like hand crept through the gap to teasingly draw circles on her stomach. "You dare to say such a thing, when we're alone, and when no one else would know..."

"If you dare to prove it, take it."

Permission given, it was time to see if he would dare. This little dance had gone further than she had guessed it would, but perhaps that was not such a bad thing. He deserved the look of confusion she saw on his face, a moment caught off-guard by a woman was fair pay back.

This enflamed him. Such tenacity? But he was feeling suitably giving. Holding her even closer he ground his hips into hers, rubbing his cock against the inside of her thigh, relieving some of the tension that had been caused. She really was a terrible tease, whether she was aware of her allure of not.

It was her turn for the shocked reaction, now. Not displeased, she leaned her head back against him, the difference in their heights meaning she had her head halfway down his chest. A hand slid to clasp her chin, cupping around the chin, thumb gently brushing her lips. His finger slid to part her lips; she allowed a slim digit to enter her mouth, her tongue rubbing up its length in silent suggestion... then another replaced it, and then another, until she had licked, nibbled and sucked on each long finger, Arden's expression one of deep concentration on what she was doing.

It's the simple things he does... who would have thought that licking his fingers could be so... captivating?

It wasn't the sensation as much as the implications that sent his blood boiling and his mind racing. Where else would she place those blessed lips? He could only imagine. Licking his dry lips he smiled evilly. "You lost, lover, and so you must pay the forfeit. Now pull your skirt up."

He smiled as her eyebrows vanished, eyes widening at this shocking statement. Not only was it harsh and crude, it completely changed the mood; no longer did he appear so sweet and giving, but as haughty and snobbish as when he'd first taunted her.

"You are so arrogant," she said dismissively, a little disgruntled. Is that how he wanted to play it?

"Do you perhaps need a hand?" Both hands slid simultaneously down her front, rubbing her thighs, running back up the insides ever so slowly. Really, he was too much. "You unpure girl. What have you been thinking about, to get you this wet? We have barely started."

She leaned into his contact. Again, her ass rubbed pleasurably against his cock, the sensation pleasing them both. "Mmmm... Arden, don't tease."

His other hand had returned to her shirt, reaching upwards to slip inside the cup of her bra, gently rubbing as he pressed his head against hers, a soft, satisfied noise coming from his lips.

"I know you won, you don't have to be smug."

"Bend over. Just think of this as... a field test, of sorts."

She obeyed, feeling one thin, spindly-fingered hand tighten on her ass, clenching and unclenching on the taut muscle as his other hand forced her head forward, taking a grip on her hair and resting her face down against the smooth material of the playing board, his hand running up the centre of her spine, creating waves of reaction as she shuddered at the pressure, barely aware that he was tugging on the soft lisle of her tights, allowing the light fabric to tumble to her ankles as he slid a finger inside her panties and rubbed gently, also tugging them down her thighs.

Eyes wide as she heard him undo his zipper, the sound of fabric against fabric as he forced the tight trousers down his legs, shortly followed by his boxers. Just get it over with, Arden... and try not to smash my face against this accursed table...

She felt him push inside her, the sensation different from usual. As he rocked gently, his cock brushed her clit; his hand returned to holding her head down as he stretched his body slimily against hers, catlike, pushing further in. Strange as it was, but this peculiar... position felt good; perhaps it was that more of her was in contact with him, or the suave, sexy voice that whispered secrets and promises into her ear, groans of ecstasy randomly punctuating the conversation.

"Oh, hell, Arden...!" she said, teeth clenched. Silly boy, silly silly boy! In her oddly pleasure-twisted mind she was laughing. How could it be that Arden Motti, the victor of their duels, getting down and dirty with his future bride, had a look of frustration on his face? Jealously is a terrible thing. I'm being forced down here, beneath him, and he's going to all that effort to fuck me... and I'm feeling most of the pleasure...

The implosion occurred; her abdomen tightened and the frustration vanished, leaving her calm and sated and happy. Arden still forced into her, until she felt his hips buck, the strange, natural warning of male orgasm. He forced as hard as he could, and released.

Lying together, on the table, covered in perspiration, they paused for a while, Arden sprawled atop her thin frame, his hands idly combing through her hair. She turned her head to look at him; his eyes focussed, skin flushed.

Moaning at him as she sat up, she wiggled from under him, combed her hair behind her ears and pulled her tights back up, Arden watching.

"Would you like some help?" He tugged her skirt back up, returning the zipper to its place at the top of the runner, then turned her around and hugged her to him. She affectionately clung to him, almost child-like, leaning her head inside his clothing. Taken aback by her apparent show of emotion, he patted her on the back of the head, kissing her forehead as her hand slid inside his jacket, rubbing circles on his chest.

"Let's not turn this into a petty rivalry between man and wife. We can never be equal, but that does not mean you have to be kept the trophy wife at home alone..."

She closed her eyes, and thought she could hear the honesty behind the words. Smiling, she answered with a careful kiss, eager for their future together, and the constant challenge to best him.