"The Flavor of Love"
Rating: R
Ben samples Bail.
"Touch me, please. Make me forget," he begs.
I can deny him little. I run my fingers over his bronze skin, absorbing the sensation as though I could taste him with my fingertips. On his cheeks just above his beard, he feels sweet, like berries, but he is as salty as the great seas in the hollow of his neck. Soft and delicate behind his knees, rough and ticklish on his sole. He is a marked combination of contrasts, least of which is his infatuation for a Jedi. For me.
I thought I was done with love when I met him. I'd known and lost the greatest love I would ever experience, or so I thought. Such is the folly of youth. Time puts things in perspective, does it not? What time does not teach us, war does.
But I will not think of such agonies tonight. He wants me to make him forget the horrors, and I cannot fault him for such escapism.
"Touch me."
I skim over his long legs, up to caress the delicate skin where his leg joins his hip. Tender, like the taste of overripe muscadines he feels as I skim around his shaft. Over his hard belly, made strong not through the self-discipline of training and exercise, but through the very real hardships of battle, inadequate food, and sheer hard work. But no, I said I would not think of such things.
Up his stomach to his chest, where I can feel the deep breaths he takes in his arousal. I move my hands to either side to flick over the little nubs. Like candy, those points of sweet sensation that make him gasp as I pinch. He arches toward me. Yes, just like candy, they make me want more.
His deep brown eyes bore into mine as he catches my wrists. "Touch me," he commands. The authority of a ruler, even in bed.
As I said, I can deny him little. I trail my fingertips down his body, tasting the cocoa flavor that he exudes, finally reaching his phallus. My fingers dance over the soft skin lightly, testing his readiness, teasing him. I dip one finger below to find the most sensitive spot, blurring his focus between the dual sensations. He arches again and groans. Spice now, rich and intoxicating. It is so addictive, I would willingly drown in it.
The essence of oil on my hand is slick and exotic. My breath now is as harsh as his. My Bail, I want you. I can hardly contain myself for the moments it takes to prepare us both. His legs are open to me, as is his heart, his life. It makes my heart clench.
I slide into him and we are at last joined. The flavor is heady, rich and generous. It is the flavor of love. By all the stars, how we have found each other is a mystery. I am only thankful that it is so. We thrust, insistent, demanding our bodies to reach the pinnacle of sensation and thus, escape.
"Ben! My love," he gasps as his face contorts in passion. Gods, he is beautiful in his ecstasty. He pulls me with him, and I pulse into his body, draining myself, giving him all I am capable of offering. I owe him so much. He has given me purpose to exist beyond my duties as a Jedi. He has given me reason to simply live as a man.
I hold him, kissing his lips, rubbing my hands down his back. I drift to sleep immersed in the luxurious aftertaste of passion.
~ fin ~