Monday, June 19, 2006

Chapter Thirteen


Author's note:

Ok, anyone out there. I need your opinion. Is this too much? Do I need to tone this chapter down?

I've already "cleaned it up". I'm trying to back down from what I'm used to reading, namely Laurel K. Hamilton. If you know her work, you know she writes pretty... explicitly. Let's just say she leaves me in a very good mood. ;) [And therefore, my husband in a very good mood.]

I wanted this to be romantic, but sensual. But not over the top.

So... do I need to further clean this up? Or is this just about right?

Thanks for reading. :)




“So, was that what you are like when you are dangerous?” Sentinel asked.

“No. That wasn’t even close to dangerous.” Vader responded, but a little impatiently.

“I take it our next move is to put the fear of the Force in Trooper TX-567?”

Vader stopped short. He had intended to do exactly that. But now he wondered whether that was the best thing to do.

She smiled up at him, sensing he was turning over all the possible next moves.

He looked down at her. “I think perhaps TX-567 can wait...” he rumbled softly. Then he grabbed her hand, and started walking at a fast clip to their ship. She was a little hard pressed to keep up, and was slightly out of breath once they made it inside.

Vader raised the ramp once they were on board, closing the ship down, locking it.

Then he walked towards her compartment and stopped, and instead turned, still holding her hand, and almost dragged her towards his compartment.

Once inside, he locked the door, and rapidly removed his helmet, hooking up a hose to his mechanical lungs.

He turned, feeling predatory. And she was his prey.

She had denied him the enjoyment of ripping her clothing off, as she had already stripped down to just her boots, and nothing else.

He was torn between almost wanting to strike her for having undressed too quickly, to just wanting to drink in the sight of her for a moment, standing there ready, unashamed, and hungry.

They both crossed the room in a few steps and were locked together. He kept walking her backwards until she was up against the wall, his lips demanding attention from hers, which she eagerly gave.

They made love, standing up, with her body pressed against the wall.

He dropped his mental shields, and opened himself to her, letting her feel what he was feeling, both physically and emotionally. She immediately did the same, and suddenly they were one creature, moving in perfect synchronisity, building upon the same theme, oblivious to anything but the moment, the passion, and the final ecstacy that washed over both of them.

He leaned against her for a moment, exhausted, oblivious that he was making it difficult for her to breath while he still had her pinned to the wall. She finally tapped him on the shoulder. He grinned and backed up, and she slid down the wall to stand, rather wobbly, on the ground, and catch her breath.

He backed away, found his bed, and sat down on it.

He watched her, her body bowed as she caught her breath. She stood up, and he found himself amused by the funny imprints of his shoulder armor, and also his breathing hose, in her flesh. He noticed the red scar of her recent surgery, and was glad to see that their activity hadn’t re-opened her wounds.

She kicked off her boots. She came forward, unsteady, kissed him on the lips softly, then collapsed into a lump on the bed, still trying to catch her breath.

He lay back beside her, and once he was supine, she rolled over to lie with her head on his left shoulder (after padding his shoulder armor with a pillow), and her left arm across his stomach. He held her close with his left hand across her back.

She smiled and closed her eyes.

He lay there, with his environmental suit in a state of dissarray, loathe to move to fix it. He heard her start to snore, and grinned. Eventually he too fell asleep.



Goto Chapter Fourteen

1 Comments:

Blogger Radioactive Jam said...

Opinion follows :-)
Speaking for myself - I think it's fine, though I see fine as more of a "region" or area than say, a line stay behind. In other words, more or less either way would likely also seem fine to me.

When it comes to romance and sensuality I like it better when something I'm reading gives me opportunities to use my imagination, vs. painting a clear, highly detailed picture.

8/07/2006 6:51 PM  

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