See what the General bid? Part payment, my dears. Part payment.

~*~

You've been in the shower for a half hour when you hear it. Over the sound of the water sliding down your body and bouncing against the shower wall comes the distinct rhythm that makes you think of only one thing.

Sighing, you close your eyes and rinse the conditioner out of your hair. Every night for the last week someone has snuck into your room and turned on your stereo while you're in the shower, preying on the general feeling of anticipation in the air as everyone awaits their own private performance by the General himself.

The first night you actually bounced right out of the shower, getting a quick picture flashed of you by some of your giggling friends. No you know better, and you let the warm water soothe the tense muscles of your back as you listen to the haunting strains of the music in your empty room.

Tilting your head back, you let the warm water slide across your forehead and down your face, the heated sensation making your body quiver slightly. Even knowing that he's not here, you can't help but visualize that black clad body swaying to the song as it has so many times before.

Sighing again, you reach back and grope for the water controls, knowing that your habit of overly-long showers is going to get you a lecture if you're not careful. Hogging the hot water is /never/ a good idea in a building filled with hormonal women.

Before your fingers find the water handle, the shower shuts itself off suddenly, the shower curtain flying open violently. Your hand falls immediately on your towel, dragging it to your body as you try to think of sufficiently horrible to say to whoever decided to pull this stunt on you.

You've already got a towel in front of your body before your brain registers the fact that the person who so rudely interrupted your shower was most /definitely/ not one of your friends.

Your mouth falls open as your eyes travel up the shiny knee high black boots, the skintight pants, cinched tight around a lean waist by a black belt with a silver clasp. You can feel your chest rise and fall erratically as a slow shift in weight causes the pants to stretch across his hips, outlining every delicious muscle.

Swallowing tightly, you dare yourself to look higher. Your gaze slides slowly up the expanse of black silk, buttons ignored in favor or revealing a tight stomach, powerful chest, and wide shoulders.

You can /hear/ the blood pounding in your ears.

In the other room, the last strains of the song float lightly in the air, the sweet melody deceptively innocent.

You swallow again, raising your gaze the last little bit to meet his eyes.

They're burning, more green than blue, staring at you and through you with that uncanny knowledge he has. As you stare helplessly, transfixed by his gaze, he slowly begins his prowl, stalking across the bathroom to you.

There are no words spoken, no preamble. One minute you're clutching your towel tightly in front of you, the next moment you're in his arms, being carried towards your bedroom. You can feel the heat of his body through his clothes, his breath slightly erratic on your neck.

You blink when he sets you down short of the bedroom, your back to the door. "What are--"

"Shhhhh," is the soft reply, whispered against your forehead as he leans in to press a slow kiss against the rise of your cheekbone. "All you have to do is stand here," he says, the rolling accent of his voice sending shivers through your body. "Just let me . . . perform."

His hands glide up your arms to your shoulders, coaxing your backwards until your back collides with something that most definitely should not be there. Craning your neck around, you find yourself pressed up against a blanket that has been suspended from . . .

Oh sweet lord.

Your knees go weak as an absent flick of his hand starts the music up again, his body starting to gyrate as he moves towards where you are pressed up against--

--the doorframe.

Your hands fly backwards to find the walls on either side of the door, propping yourself up as he slides up to you, leaning his back against the opposite side of the door and letting his hips roll slowly with the music.

The beat of the music picks up, and your eyes fasten on to his mouth, breathing heavily as the tip of his tongue sneaks out to wet his lips, gliding slowly and teasingly over the swell of his lower lip.

"Obi-Wan . . ." you groan softly, your body already trembling. The pulse of the music, the sight of this man, shirt hanging precariously from his shoulders as his hips roll fluidly with the ever increasing beat, the look in his eyes as they glide over your nude body--he has yet to lay a finger on you and you're ready to start begging.

And then the voice picks up from your stereo.

"You let me violate you," he growls softly along with the music. Pinning you in place with a heated look, he rolls his body forwards to slide against yours, the ends of his shirt hanging open enough so that his bare chest slides slickly against your still wet body. Leaning down slightly, he runs his mouth up your neck, purring, "You let me desecrate you," directly into your ear.

Your fingernails are digging into the wall behind you, the edge of the doorframe biting into your back no more than a distant distraction.

Obi-Wan grinds his hips into yours as he arches his back, bracing his shoulders against the frame behind him and pressing his cloth covered hips into yours. His head tilts back as he slides slowly down the doorframe, his hips gyrating against yours with increasing pressure as his body stretches taunt.

Lifting his head, he circles his very evident bulge into your bare thigh. "You let me penetrate you," he growls lowly, smiling slowly as you let out a shuddering moan.

His body snaps up suddenly, and his hands are planted on either side of your head, his entire body stretched out against yours. He slides slowly down your body, hands sliding down the doorframe behind you until he's crouched with his face level with your hips. Staring up your body, he gives you a fiery look as he presses an open mouthed kiss against your hip, breathing, "you let me complicate you."

Your head lolls back as you feel him sliding back up your body again, strong fingers plunging into your hair and tilting your head for his kiss.

Fire. Liquid fire . . . and yet something so tender and gentle that it brings you alive. The violence inherent in the music, the beat, even the sway of his powerful hips . . . all is balanced by the sweet tenderness with which his mouth claims yours, lips sliding slowly across yours until you part your mouth in a whimper, allowing him access.

His tongue dances along yours, familiar and yet so startlingly new. You can feel his hands clench in your hair as he releases a low groan into your mouth, his tongue twining hungrily with yours as his hips begin to rock again.

You're suddenly frantic to remove at least some of the barriers between your body and his. Your hands slide around his body, sneaking around the curve of his hips and squeezing another moan from him before they slide up to start tugging insistently on his shirt.

Obi-Wan frees his hands from your hair, lifting his arms above his head as he slowly slides down your body again, allowing you to pull his shirt free. Your fingers dance over the hard muscles of his shoulders as you rock your body forward, pressing your stomach into his mouth. The wet lips slide open, laving your hip and waist with warm, hungry kisses as he sways to the music.

Wanting his body pressing against yours again, you tangle hands in his hair, pulling softly as you whimper in blind need. His breathing staggered, Obi-Wan grinds his body back up yours, his bared chest sliding against your body with a slick sound that draws harsh moans from both of your throats.

Your moan is swallowed as he sinks his mouth back to yours, hands clenching into your hips as he pulls you against him in rhythm with the music. One of his legs slides between yours, and you're almost shocked to find yourself grinding into his leg, pressing against his hard thigh with reckless abandon as your normal reserve falls away under the onslaught of sensuality.

You shudder as the heat of his body leaves you suddenly, your eyes flying open to see him leaning against the doorframe across from you again, his eyes burning into yours. Mesmerized, you watch the stretch of muscles play across his chest as he raises one hand, bracing it above him.

It's your turn to wet your lips as your mouth goes suddenly dry, eyes glued to the sight of one strong hand sliding slowly down his chest. You can feel his heat with only inches away from you, the doorframe trapping the two of you close together.

Your eyes follow the path of the long fingers as the move ever lower, dipping into the waistband of the tight pants as he lets his head fall back again, hips rolling forward with the music.

Performance be damned. If this is your show, you damn well get to decide what goes on during it. Reaching out, your hands fall on the utilitarian belt, fingers fumbling with the clasp as Obi-Wan raises his head to look at you.

"My show," he purrs softly, hands catching yours. Your back is pressed against the doorframe again as he leans forwards, gliding his hands up your arms as he raises them above your head. Invisible bonds catch your wrists, holding your body stretched taunt as the song slowly winds down. Your stereo clicks softly, engaging the repeat function.

Obi-Wan leans back, catching your eyes and holding them as he slowly pulls his belt free, dropping it absently on the floor to the side. His hips sway hypnotically as he pushes towards you again, leaning into you as he whispers the lyrics to the song in your ear.

Your breath leaves you suddenly as his mouth lands on the inside of your elbow, lips caressing the skin slowly as he slides his hands up and down your arms. You can feel the burning hardness through the cloth of his pants, pressing tightly into your stomach. Groaning, you try to twist up, wanting that length pressed somewhere else.

His body begins a steady rocking motion, his hips grinding into your body as he inches down. Lips slide over your face and shoulders, nipping at your neck as he makes his way down your body so very slowly.

When he reaches your hips again he pauses, eyes burning up the length of your body to meet your own. "I want to feel you from the inside," he purrs, hands sliding from the wall to steady your hips as he folds his legs under him.

Your head flies back to thud dully against the doorframe as his tongue slides across your clit the first time. He pulls back, looking up with a faint expression of alarm. "Are you all--"

Groaning, you rock your hips forward beggingly, harsh pleas trembling forth from your lips. The look of worry replaced by one of hunger, Obi-Wan smiles before leaning back in to run his tongue through your folds.

He's talented--but you always knew that. What takes your breath away is the contrast, the difference between the harsh, primal music and the slow, tender gentleness of his tongue as it slides against you, familiar with all of your weaknesses and pleasures. This man knows you, knows you inside and out . . . and knows how to shatter your reality with a few twists of his tongue.

You moan weakly when he pulls back, lifting your head to stare down at him, gasping at what you see.

Obi-Wan has reclined from his kneeling position, sitting back on his heels. His shoulders lean against the doorframe as his hips rock upwards, his fingers busy at the laces on his pants.

A low groan slips past your lips as the ties give, his generous erection springing forth. You watch in rapt fascination as his long fingers wrap slowly around the hard length, stroking a few times as needy growls spill from his lips.

"Please--let me touch you," you beg, drawing his green gaze up to you. Your knees are trembling so badly that your slide to the floor when he suddenly releases the hold on your wrists. Trembling, you launch yourself at him.

Your mouths meet and mesh, tongues tangling around one another in hungry desperation. The music, the doorframe, the bid . . . all are swept away in a moment of overwhelming need, emanating from both equally. Both of you kick at his pants as you fall over sideways, rolling back and forth until his legs are free from the troublesome fabric.

Hands slide against flesh, your still damp hair tangling around both of you and sticking to necks and faces. Your body, just starting to dry off from your shower is quickly covered with a sheen of sweet as his legs tangle with yours, your hands clinging to his shoulders desperately as his mouth immediately finds the most sensitive spot on your neck, suckling hungrily.

You whimper softly as his lips slide down to your collar bone, his fingers sliding up to caress the oversensitive skin of your neck. Pressing your body up into him, you card fingers through his hair as you urge his seeking mouth down to the pebbled nipples that crave his attention.

"Obi-Wan . . ." you groan, your fingers clenching his skull as the sensitive bud disappears between hot lips. "Need you . . ." The play of his tongue around your almost painfully aroused nipple is making it difficult to hold to coherent thought. "Please . . ." you whimper softly.

His hand slides up your body to cup your other breast, thumb sweeping out to tease the neglected nipple. Arching your back up, you dig your heels into the ground and rock your body up into him. "Please, Obi-Wan," you repeat, your voice harsh.

"Soon," he replies, his voice a low groan. You feel his arms wrap around your body, clinging you to him as he rises on unsteady feet and lurches towards your bedroom.

You bounce slightly as you both drop to the bed, your head hanging slightly over the edge and the book you were reading earlier poking you most annoyingly in the back. Grunting slightly you push against Obi-Wan's chest.

He rolls over, bringing you on top of him. Pushing yourself up so that you're straddling his stomach, you reach over and toss the book from the bed before planting your hands firmly on his shoulders.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, one hand sliding up to caress your cheek softly.

"So are you," is your soft reply as you free one hand to brush the long strands of hair from his face. The light from the other room falls across the bed, highlighting his eyes as he stares up at you. The music, still floating in hauntingly from the other room, clicks slightly before sliding into repeat again.

"I don't think I can wait much longer," Obi-Wan groans, his hands sliding up to clasp your hips. "What do you want? Anything . . . anything at all, I will give to you."

You pull your leg from over his stomach, settling to the bed next to him on your side. Fingers threaded through his hair, you lean in to brush your lips slowly against his. "Make love to me, General Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Your lips are seized in a heart-rending kiss as Obi-Wan rolls over, propping himself up on his arms as he uses his legs to nudge your thighs apart. "Slowly," he groans, fingers clenching in the bedspread as he starts to press into you, lip caught tightly between his teeth in concentration.

You stretch your arms up to clutch his shoulders, the music sweeping through you as you are overcome with the powerful urge to move. Rocking your hips slightly, you are rewarded with Obi-Wan's harsh groan as he slides deeper into you.

Your draw your knees up, planting your feet firmly as you rock harder against Obi-Wan's hips, loving the low moans that leave his lips every time you draw his pulsing erection deeper into your body.

All too soon he's buried to the hilt, elbows digging into the mattress as he leans down to claim your lips with his again, the kiss more frantic than before. You can feel yourself opening to him, mind heart and spirit. Keeping one foot flat on the bed, you wrap the other leg around his hip and rock slightly, moaning at the feeling of the throbbing length buried deep within you.

Your leg drops back to the bed as he props himself up on his arms again, hips starting their slow, measured rolling movement perfectly in time with the music. His eyes never leave yours as he pulls out and slides back in, his back and shoulder muscles trembling with the effort of restraining himself.

Before long you're moaning, head tossing weakly back and forth on the pillow as you roll your hips up to meet each thrust, both of you caught up in the music as it carries you along towards something inevitable.

Suddenly the music cuts out, leaving the sound of your own panting breath overly loud in the room. Obi-Wan drops down, nuzzling his face into your neck as his hips begin to speed up. "Wanted--wanted to hear you," he gasps, hips circling slightly as his hands grope across the blankets until they find yours. Fingers entwined tightly together with yours, Obi-Wan speeds his tempo again, moaning along with you as you feel the crest starting to sweep you up.

"Come with me," he whispers, his voice broken as he gasps desperately for breath. "Come for me . . . come with me . . . let me /hear/ it . . ."

Tilting your head back, you let out a hoarse cry as you rock your hips up into his, snapping the beginning of your climax over you. You can feel your muscles tightening as Obi-Wan lets out a loud moan, feel your body pulling on him.

His hips circle into yours a few more times before Obi-Wan buries his cry in your neck, body twitching with the force of his release. Still caught up in your own orgasm, it's all you can do to cling desperately to his body as the two of you moan and writhe through the pleasure together.

Obi-Wan's arms tighten around you as he shifts sideways slightly, withdrawing from you with a soft whimper. Tangling his legs with yours you feel the blanket that you had kicked out of your way in your frenzy float up to curl around the two of you where you lay, still gasping for breath.

Snuggled in his arms, face pressed tightly against his sweaty chest, you breathe in the scent of him, a scent unlike anything else in the world. Sleep drags at your mind, lulled into laziness by the pleasure and the comfort of having this man wrapped around you, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your back.

"Don't you have other bids to cash in on?" you mutter sleepily, clinging to conciousness enough to press a kiss against his sweaty chest.

"Not that can't wait," is his equally sleepy reply. You feel the slight shift in his chest as he curls one leg over yours, pulling you tightly against him. "Time to sleep."

"And then?" you ask, already half way asleep.

"And then we finish the shower I so rudely interrupted."

That said, you drift off into very pleasant dreams.