We'd barely made it inside before the rain had started and now, as I reclined in the Roman tub in the shared bathroom between Grand Moff Tarkin's room and whomever was next door, I relaxed and sighed, looking over to my dress that was draped across the vanity stool. I'd been in and out of that dress more than a couple times already that evening, and now I wondered what I would be wearing to sleep in. I laughed to myself and sank into the water up to my jaw.

*Nothing* would probably be the answer to that question. Lightning flashed outside the windows of the bathroom, and suddenly the door opened.

Tarkin walked over slowly, wearing a deep burgundy bathrobe of plush velvet. He'd given me a similar one for after my bath. Obviously, this was a little extra that he'd provided for his future clients. Figures, he'd pay so much attention to detail, I thought to myself.

As he stood at the edge of the bathtub and watched me in the dim light, the deep growl of thunder rumbling in the background, I sighed contentedly and looked up at him, watching as he bent to the edge of the tub.

"Aren't you clean yet, Kella?" he asked, reaching into the water and wrapping his hands around my calf, his grip slipping along my slick skin. I tilted my head back, enjoying the feel of his touch as he began to massage my leg in small, circular motions, moving down toward my ankle and foot, finally slipping his hands beneath my toes and rubbing each one gently between his strong fingers.

"Of course I am," I replied lazily, "I'm just enjoying a soak."

I listened for a moment as the rain battered the building and lightening flashed and bounced off the walls. Watching him look at my legs, his eyes traveling up and glancing about my body, which was obscured by clouds of soapy bubbles, I remembered exactly what I was here for, which wasn't for a soak in the tub. In the grand scheme of things, it was to take him away, but for this evening...it was to indulge in some serious time between the sheets.

I rose up from the tub, the sounds of dripping water tingling throughout the bathroom as I sat up, leaning toward him. My lips met his, and I became aware of the heat radiating from my own skin when I came into contact with his cool, smooth face. He pushed the sleeve of his robe up with one hand while the other slipped deep below the waterline to run along the inside of my thigh as I kissed him, his touch immediately encouraging me to reach a sudsy arm up and wrap it around his neck. He backed off, obviously not wanting to get covered in water and bubbles, and he actually stood up.

I looked up at him, way up at him, from my position in the bathtub. He said nothing, just stared down at me with that hard look that he always had. Never losing the lock of our stare, I stood, water running in noisy rivulets over my skin, clouds of bubbles clinging to me here and there. His eyes glanced over my body and I saw his jaw tighten as I ran my palms slowly down my own shoulders, across my breasts, over my stomach, smoothing away some of the suds.

"Hand me my towel?" I asked sweetly, tilting my head and letting the slyest hint of a smile play over my lips. He complied, barely taking his eyes off of me as he did.

I stepped out of the tub, and threw the towel around my back, rubbing it back and forth across my backside as he watched, arching toward him and stretching seductively, letting this little display be a slow tease of sorts. Moving close to him, I let the towel drop and I pulled the knot of his bathrobe apart, not caring that I was still wet and soapy all along my front.

He wore nothing beneath his robe, and I held his sides with my palms, the light suction sounds of my lips kissing his chest all I could hear amid the rain and the thunder. His hardness was already straining toward me, was poking insistently against my stomach. I pulled him close and slid my slick body against his smooth skin, delightfully aware of the brush of my nipples against him, stretching to latch my lips on his neck, sucking lightly and thrilling as he tilted his head and pressed against my mouth.

I felt his hands in my hair, unpinning it from the restraint I'd worn in the tub, and then the pressure of him kissing the top of my head and inhaling the scent of my hair.

"Shall we go to your room?" I asked, the sound of my voice low and serious. I pulled back and looked up at him for a moment biting my bottom lip like the vixen that I loved to be. He nodded and I took his hand, leading across the bathroom and through the door into his room.

He had lit a dozen candles throughout the interior, and the lights were out, so only the occasional flash of lightening through the slit of the drapes broke the flickering of the tiny fires that burned all around. The room was simple, sparsely furnished, but the bed was large and beautiful, adorned with lots of velvet and chenille pillows and a thick, down comforter encased in a velvet doublet. Indulgent style. So very like him.

He slipped out of his robe and laid it over a chair near the bed, and I took a moment to observe him in the dim light. Tarkin's body was so much that of a much younger man, taut and lean, smoothly muscled, the clean, regal lines of his physique simple and unbelievably arousing. I stared down at his cock, reaching one hand down to cup him from the underside, and the other to trace a light stroking pattern up and down his shaft, enjoying the twitch of his stomach as he inhaled in reaction, thinking of how much pleasure this was going to give me once he was inside me again.

When I looked up, I saw that his eyes were closed, and my fingers were already slick with the sticky clear droplets that wept forth from the swollen head of his cock.

I pushed him gently back and he lay on the bed, and I knelt on the floor between his knees. My hands brushed lightly over his thighs and hips, as my lips made their way up to suck gently at the base of his hardness, and I flickered my tongue teasingly along the length of him. Crawling slowly from the floor to the bed, I knelt beside him, and as soon as I was within reach, one of his hands slid slowly along my thigh, his long fingers creeping teasingly to run along my damp heat that ached for the cock that I moved in and out between my lips. His touch was skilled and precise, one finger sliding rhythmically along my outer lips, then gently slipping between my folds which were tingling with anticipation. I clenched the base of his cock in my fist and moved at a quicker pace, fueled by the probing of his fingers, one, circling teasingly at my opening, his thumb rotating firmly over my burning nub of nerves. His length touched the back of my throat on each thrust, and he was slippery from my mouth and from his own fluids that seeped out in readiness for his climax.

"Stop," he said, his voice raspy and uneven. He pulled his hand away from me and my hips swayed in search of something, anything, to take their place. I moaned, the sound muffled by the hardness that filled my throat, and took deliberate time sliding his length slowly out of my mouth, lingering on the swollen mushroom tip until I let it escape my lips with a wet pop. I looked up, making eye contact, and bowed my head to envelope him again but he spoke and grabbed my hair.

"Stop!" he commanded, more forceful this time, and I watched as he held his breath, obviously seeking to harness control over his body's reaction. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him, and I allowed myself to be moved into the position of straddling him. His palms moved my hips around, positioning my body above him, and I felt the length of his cock which lay long and stiff against his firm belly, sliding against me. It seemed to move on its own, and I didn't even have to guide it into me. It somehow seemed to find the spot on its own, and he plunged upward, his length touching me deep inside. I gasped, the intensity of his depth hotly painful, the pleasure of him stretching and filling me delicious beyond description. I opened my eyes just enough to look at him below me, his expression taking on a slightly less menacing appearance in the flickering candlelight, the skin of his chest and stomach tight and smooth. How many, I wondered vaguely through my climbing ecstasy, knew of the treasure that lie beneath his Imperial uniform? How surprised would those who didn't know be if they knew the prowess he possessed, the skill and the passion.

His hand wandered to my breast, kneading softly and rolling a hardened nipple between his forefinger and thumb, another thing to heighten my experience. His other hand pressed me tighter down on him with each thrust, pushing firmly against my hip, trying to control me as my rocking became faster and more shallow. Outside, thunder crackled and boomed with a flash of lightening that flickered across the wall.

"Slow down," he whispered, "too...close. Slow down..."

I moaned or gasped, I don't know which, but I didn't slow down, couldn't slow down. And in the height of it all I clasped my hand over his hand which fondled my breast, and I could feel heat and energy from my very center spreading outward, through my thighs and legs, causing them to tense and quiver as my orgasm ripped through me, making my heartbeat pulse loudly in my head, and my inner walls to clench and ebb around the thick hardness which fluttered and twitched inside me, spilling hotly under the protest from his body which couldn't hold back any longer under my fevered thrusting.

I collapsed against his chest, fully spent, and caught his lips in a sloppy and satisfied kiss. His arms locked tightly around my back and he rolled me beneath him, crushing his hips into me, managing to keep himself buried inside me even after his climax. I raked my hands along the back of his head, thoroughly displacing his perfectly combed hair, celebrating in the fact that he was kissing me back with all the passion that I was kissing him with.

"Worth every penny," I mumbled around his lips. Through our kiss, I felt him smile. Whether it was the lack of blood to his brain or just the contented, sated afterglow of sex, he said something somewhat uncharacteristic.

"It's good to see you again, Kella."

I was exhausted from the evening, from the lovemaking, but I twined my leg around his and squeezed his face tight against mine, pressing my mouth beneath his ear.

"I'm really glad that you aren't dead," I whispered. I was warm and drowsy, and the storm had subsided to a vague smattering of rain against the window.

He pulled back from me enough that he could make eye contact, and a long finger brushed my bangs from my face as his thumb caressed my cheek.

"Where do you want to take me, Kella?" he asked gently. It was rare that he was so tender, so intimate, and my insides were washed through with warmth.

His eyes, normally cold and slate, were a warmer shade of blue, as he stared at me, content and calm. As my eyes drowsed shut, I felt him planting light kisses along my lids, my cheek, my jaw. I'm sure he thought it to be a tactic of persuasion, but it did nothing but lure me into slumber.

"In the morning," I murmured, "I'll tell you in the morning."

And with him still on top of me, within me, I fell into contented sleep.

tbc...