Feverish

It's been weeks since he's been home.

Weeks that, for the most part, have been too busy to spend time worrying and missing him, wondering if he's safe and well-fed and remembering to sleep.

Being safe isn't exactly in his job description, and Satine knows this all too well. She'll take what she can get, and even if that means he's has news scars and a fever, she'll take it.

Yes, her bed was cold and the mornings too quiet, but she had a system to govern and a delegation to oversee.

Worrying about her reckless Jedi husband was not exactly on the forefront of her mind.

Okay, maybe that's why she was so eager for the war to end - she wanted her husband home and safe, not running beside his wayward apprentice and grand apprentice.

But at the moment - she was quite happy to have those thoughts banished from her mind, given that Obi-Wan was kissing his way down her body, trying to make up for lost time.

"Can you be any slower?" Satine muttered, nails scraping at his neck and breath hitching when one of his hands moved lower, between her thighs.

He chuckled, lips against the underside of her breast, words a low rasp in his throat. "Is that a challenge?"

"Obi-Wan."

"A jest, my dear." Obi-Wan moved lower, lips skimming over her ribs and stomach. "A jest."

"Mmm." She tilted her head back, biting her lip when he squeezed her hip, the opposite hand still between her, fingers inside her. Was his skin dry and a bit rough? Yes. Really, the Republic didn't give their soldiers and diplomats much to keep themselves looking dignified and presentable. But on a positive note, the sensation was making her a little dizzy with pleasure.

Trying to keep her voice steady, she murmured, "You're a horrible tease."

He raised his eyebrows, a small smile gracing his battle-worn features when he glanced at her. "I'm a tease? My dear you have me confused with someone else."

"My...husband, maybe?"

"Your husband…that has a rather nice ring to it." Obi-Wan grinned - maybe a bit possessively - and maybe more than a bit tad feverish. Whoops. In her defense, she had rather been eager to have him and he had been all the more willing to be of service. Their clothes had barely been on the floor before they had stumbled onto the large, satin covered bed.

She gave a harsh laugh before swallowing down the moan when he moved lower.

If she cared to analyze the situation, Satine might bother to care why people were so obsessed with their sex lives - goddesses, Obi-Wan, right there, don't stop your fingers -

A Jedi and a Mandalorian having a friendly relations were one thing - but a Jedi General and a pacifist Mandalorian who never officially declared their legal relationship to the public? Sleeping together and actively prohibiting the creation of Mandalore's not next generation of warriors?

Absolutely scandalous - thrilling too.

Obi-Wan squeezed her thigh, pulling her a little closer, pausing for a moment to ensure she wasn't uncomfortable -

"I'm not made of glass," she gasped out, hands moving from his neck to his scalp.

Mmm - it was a problem for a different time. Perhaps a time when Satine didn't have said Jedi's head between her thighs.

She twisted her fingers into his ginger hair, watching the canopy above her blur through her lashes, hearing her breath and moans and not quite believing the sounds coming out of her were those of a Duchess.

But the woman inside her - for fuck's sakes, it was all of her, even the prudish ice-queen of Mandalore - was thoroughly enjoying his silver tongue.

"Ben," she muttered through gritted teeth - because the walls of the damned Sundari palace were thin and there were probably guards outside the apartments -

He hummed in response, the sound making a pleasant vibration.

"Damn it, Ben - "

Satine wasn't an aggressive person by any means - maybe stubborn as hell - but god damn it, the ache in her abdomen and muscles was becoming torturous.

She tried to tug him closer, only vaguely concerned about suffocating him - he was a Jedi, he'd lived through worse than an orgasming woman -

It wasn't that she was quite oblivious to his muffled response - she felt it really, a quiet hum, a gentle nipping of teeth, hot kisses on her thighs and legs.

She brought a shaking hand to her sweat-covered face, hearing his fingers scratch against the bedsheets, then through his beard.

"You okay?" Obi-Wan murmured, lying down beside her, one hand reaching out and cupping a breast - not sexually, more out of habit than anything. "Good?"

Even with her eyes closed Satine could feel his intense gaze, his concern for her wellbeing, his tense body while he waited for her to catch her breath and nod.

"Goddesses, that has only gotten better the longer we're together."

He gave a breathless laugh, muscles relaxing, reaching over to nuzzle her neck and press a kiss there. His skin still felt a bit feverish, a bit too sweaty. "On that we agree, my love."

Satine lolled her head to look at him, feeling the comfortable ache between her thighs and the weight of his arm over his chest. Her gaze roamed lazily over his muscled, naked body, admiring the effectiveness the Jedi lifestyle before meeting his stare. "Don't sound so smug."

"'m not smug." He smirked at her eyeroll, leaning over to press their lips together a tad harshly - not that she minded, not really. Sex between them was always a bad of wills and the need for dominance, and she'd just….lost? Won?

Whatever the case, it was always interesting to watch the grand Negotiator separate from his usual self, the person who barely brushed her hand or made eye contact outside the walls of their bedchamber.

"I love you," she declared - mumbled, really - into his mouth.

He grinned against her skin, settling comfortably beside her so there wasn't spare space between them, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Author's note: *glances around uncomfortably*

I had an idea. I wrote it down. I posted.

Thanks for reading my experiment.

ii Digestive Reader ii