The movement of her hips against him was good. Very good. Her gentle fingers writing secrets on his skin. Her breath, her pulse, her mouth… He had to back off a little and run through mental exercises to keep his autonomic reflexes from… engaging.
Usually he had exceptional control… but right now…
(He had so much experience, in so many ways… But not… He'd always wondered what it might be like because he wanted to, with someone he actually liked…)
…he only half-succeeded. Not full rigidity imposing itself, demanding of her… but his body still showed a definite effect.
And a distinct throb accentuated that process, at her voice. What she said.
He pulled back his head, neck arching to do so without separating their bodies; just enough so his eyes could find hers, as his hand found her cheek.
"I love you," he said, quiet and low, back. "By the Force. Jyn… Very much."
The way he responded to her was just as good. Better than she had imagined. The way he held her against him, the noises he made, how eagerly he sought her out for more, the way he still held back, just in case she wasn't comfortable.
But she was comfortable. She was enjoying every second of this, committing it all to memory, every touch, every kiss, every gasp or groan ... the way his body reacted to hers, not insistent, not pressuring in any way, just enough to show that he was affected as much as she was.
And that throb coaxed a soft moan from her lips as she met his eyes, accepted the gentle touch. "Where you go, I go, okay?"
His heartbeat faltered. Where you go, I go… A reassertion that, yes, when he left, she'd go with him…? Or… did she mean…
Both. Obviously. Don't second-guess. It was both.
"Okay," he whispered back, voice too hoarse for anything louder.
…He dared to try something. Go just a little further.
He bent his face to her again, but this time to her neck. And started kissing her there, along the column of her throat, the gentle curve from ear to clavicle, his lips and tongue working gently on her flesh, flexing tendons and pulse—to monitor her reactions, yes, but not because he mistrusted, now. Because he wanted them to be good. And wanted to learn what would make them so, for her.
Jyn couldn't imagine being left behind after everything. She couldn't imagine going on with her life the way it was before Cassian had come into it, no matter the circumstances that had brought them together.
But also ...
Jyn didn't think that she wanted to pull back now, either. She wanted Cassian, without a shadow of a doubt, but perhaps more importantly, she trusted him. So when he turned his kisses to her throat, she welcomed him, instinctually canting her head to the side in order to offer him all the room he could ever need in order to continue the path of those kisses, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, her fingers trembling as she carded them through his hair, unconsciously urging more.
Her beautiful sigh, her fingers in his hair, were welcome guides he followed at once. The way she leaned back, giving her throat to him, an act of trust and glad encouragement, hardened him more. His hand returned to her face, thumb trailing gently along her cheek, as his kisses on her throat, in the hollow of her clavicle, deepened. He rolled them gently, the barest little, to be less side-by-side; instead, laying her reverently onto her back, and holding himself carefully (not putting all his weight on her) over her, to explore the front and both sides of her neck more completely. And trail some kisses a little (just little) farther downward.
Nobody had ever made Jyn feel as though she was something precious or fragile. But then, she had never let anyone close enough to take the chance. But for as nervous as she was, she was still so glad that she was sharing all of this with Cassian.
Deeper into her desire she spiraled with every exploratory kiss, every deliberate touch, but even so, she found herself laughing breathlessly as she found herself on her back with him above, still intent upon tasting what little skin she had exposed.
But from this position, she was more able to touch Cassian, too, to explore his arms and sides with gentle fingertips, to trail them along the line of his collarbone, too, and finally down the planes of his chest, the flush of her cheeks darkening as she did.
Her laughter made him pause, draw back to to meet her eyes—then smile and return to his task.
Her exploration of him made him pause again; not in his kisses but in his downward trajectory. He liked her taking her own initiative. He didn't want to distract or discourage. So he changed direction, kissing along her shoulder, down her arm, to the inside of her wrist; a mark of approval on her hands' behavior and leaving himself as open to her as she'd made herself to him.
If that was even necessary, when his skin delicately shivered in her fingers' wake.
Well, Jyn couldn't let Cassian have all the fun, could she? Besides, it was impossible to ignore the desire to touch and feel and memorize him for as much as she was enjoying being touched and felt and memorized as well.
All the better was that he allowed her to do it, and how easily he changed paths to allow her more access, and in the moment, all she could feel was grateful to even have the chance to do this and experience it with him.
Jyn didn't know how sensitive her inner arms were until she experienced Cassian pressing a line of kisses down the length of one, and she shivered in response. Deciding to take a risk, she quietly asked - "Will you help me with my shirt?"
Off. She wanted it off. She wanted to experience the pleasure of skin-to-skin contact with the man that she loved.
Eyes again flickered to meet hers (stardust and sunspot), and an answering shiver ran through him. But again, no hesitation—freedom—in doing as she asked. More trust.
He sat back to be able to run his hands, gently, waterlike, under the hem of her shirt, along her body; and push it up, off of her.
They freed her fully. He slung the shirt over the headboard without his eyes ever leaving hers.
He didn't just duck in, again, and go exploring where she'd bared. Instead, he stayed sitting back, his chest and torso as open to her as she'd made hers to him. (Waiting for her, by words or hands, to guide him next.) But lightly, maybe tentatively, he ran his fingertips down the center of her, from breastbone to navel, and over to her ribs.
Cassian would find no uncertainty when he lifted his eyes to meet Jyn's. She trusted him, and she was sure of what she wanted - although she would stop if he needed her to, she would wait until he was ready to move on.
But it didn't seem necessary to voice that assurance out loud - and Jyn didn't know if she could muster enough voice to do so, anyway - as she felt his hands delve underneath her thin shirt, and she sat up just enough to allow for it to be lifted up and over her head.
Her blush extended from her cheeks, coloring part of her chest in a lightly mottled pattern, whatever words she might have had to share dissipate on the tip of her tongue as his light touches left her breathless in their wake.
"Feels good", she finally managed, hoarsely. "Your hands."
An answering color rose on his cheeks—something that hadn't happened in years. Far less but also rare, his smile; as he lowered himself down, once more beside her, this time to free his hands. One slid beneath her, smoothing between her shoulders and down her spine. It came to rest, a supportive pressure, in the small of her back. The other hand started on her cheek, fingers and palm moving down the line of her jaw, the side of her neck, moulding every curve and line of her shoulders, upper arms, sternum. He moved his face close to hers again, tracing with his nose and lips where his hand had been on her face and neck. And where he could feel her heartbeat and keep his eyes on her without overtly staring—as his hand carefully moved to the swell of her breast.
He made for such a beautiful sight, and all Jyn wanted was for this moment to last forever, to commit every second of it - of Cassian - to memory. Jyn easily welcomed him back down beside her, settling close once his hand trailed from shoulder to lower back and stayed there, holding her steady.
Jyn kept still and silent, save for her erratic breathing, so touched as Cassian took his time in learning her, first with fingertips, then with nose and lips, and if she didn't already love him before, the way he was treating her with such care and caution would have seen her falling all over again.
And then she felt as he ever so softly caress the curve of her bare breast, and a quiet, unsteady moan tumbled from her lips.
He turned his face ever so slightly, the lashes of his closed eyes joining the rest of his profile on her skin; and his hand closed softly on her, even as it paused in its motion for him to murmur against her: "Yes?"
Jyn said nothing for a moment, but she did gently settled her smaller hand atop Cassian's and ever so slowly urged him to squeeze, just a bit, not nearly enough to hurt. "Yes."
His thumb lifted to gently caress her hand in welcome. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then his hand got to work. Caressing and squeezing her like he was taking measurements—charting topography; kneading her like a lothcat; following invisible ley lines along her skin with skimming fingers. He ran them along the underside, to replace them with his palm, which caressed and warmed and seem to catch her heartbeat and throb it back to her. …And then his face left hers as he bent down and lowered his lips and tongue to her nipple.
Jyn had never felt anything quite so exquisite. She had never been treated like she was someone worthy of the care he was taking with her - not that she was fragile, but rather that she was precious.
She's almost certain that Cassian can feel the near pounding of her heart, or in the moment that he leaned closer, he might have been able to hear the thudding drumbeat against her ribs.
And then, she felt lips to skin, the initial exploratory touch of his tongue, and all she felt were sparks going off along the length of her spine. A sharp gasp, an uncontrollable shiver, and she couldn't be sure of what she even said, but she hoped that whatever it was, it translated to 'yes, yes, yes'.
One of the subjects where Intelligence and Raven training coincided was reading nonverbal response. Getting such a positive one was always his goal… but when was the last time it was entirely an end in itself—and had sent such a thrill back through him, too?
He slipped his hands between her and the bed, spread his palms on her back, holding her beneath as he bent his head to keep stimulating her above. He kissed her breasts, her neck, her collarbone, her ribs, her stomach, his hands sliding down her spine to match.
At her waistband—with fingers and lips—he paused. He raised his eyes to her. Should he keep going…?
It was almost too much to bear, the continuous circle of Cassian's careful hands, touching her and guiding her and exploring her as she offered herself for him to do so, every press of his lips to her skin as he tasted and teased her and it felt like she would never be able to catch her breath properly again.
But she followed where he led, unconsciously shivering as he drew her deeper into a desire she had never known before.
Cassian paused when he reached her sleep pants, and Jyn raised her head enough to be able to meet his dark eyes. No words passed her suddenly dry lips, but there was no hesitation at all when she raised her hips in a silent acknowledgment that yes, she wanted him to keep going, that she was so ready for whatever was to happen next, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her in return.
Attentively, almost reverently, he slipped his fingers under the fabric, against her skin, and stripped the pants gently away. He kissed her legs as he bared them, all the way down to her ankles. Before working his way back up, his arms creating a cradle for her—his biceps bracing her thighs—and, with one more quick look at her face, settling himself into the valley between her legs and giving her a first light, careful, entirely different sort of kiss.
That answer was probably clearer than anything she could have offered audibly.
Besides, as she watched the way that Cassian finished disrobing her - so careful and methodical, shivering and sighing as he pressed kisses down the length of her legs and then back up again, her vision hazy at the edges as he held her steady and kissed her in a way that she had only ever read about and heard whispered stories about before.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her inner thigh began to quiver, just a touch. Her fingers clutched at the sheets beneath her a little more tightly, sharply exhaling a breath and a 'yes' all at once.
Her repetitions—reaffirmations—banished his doubts so well, more quickly than could usually be hoped, it both relaxed and enflamed him all the more. He kissed her there more and more deeply, then parted his lips around her softest flesh and gave her everything he had.
This went beyond technique. He knew how to do things on technical, clinical levels that most people never had to think about, let alone achieve, and he'd had ingrained since before his first experience with an actual (nonprofessional) partner. When was the last time he'd wanted them…? When was the last time his knowledge had served actual desire—meant only a lack of impediment in sharing something, rather than being a coldhearted means to an ulterior end…?
He wanted her to feel every good thing the universe had to offer. He was, singularly, grateful he knew something about how to contribute to that. Especially in that it freed him from uncertainty and instead could just focus on her. The feel of her, the taste of her, her movements, the sounds she made, the electricity—maybe Force…??—he felt in every nerve and thought he felt flowing between them…
And as he continued, unrelenting, apparently tireless, lavishing her there, he reached out one hand until his fingers found hers.
Cassian's touch was electric and Jyn could feel her synapses as they began firing one after the other, drawing her deeper into pleasure, the ball of energy in her stomach growing larger and larger, threatening to burst and take her with it entirely the longer he used fingers and mouth against her.
But kriff, Jyn wanted it. She wanted to know what it felt to burst into stardust, to shatter into pieces all around him, because of him, and oh, to take him with her would be the greatest pleasure of all.
Jyn trembled and whimpered underneath the constant attention of his tongue, blindly linking their fingers once she felt Cassian search her out. She felt just on the verge of falling apart completely, but she tried to hold back, as well, wanting this moment in time to last for as long as she could have it.
Every flex and arch and tremor of her body resonated through his; encouraging, enthralling. And he also felt her restraint, and from it he felt a new, strange, sense of… mischief. He wanted to see how quickly he could coax her from it.
His hand twined with hers grasped her gently. His mouth continued its work. (One of the main lessons: know when to have variety and when it to be steadily cumulative. And sometimes both.)
His other hand slipped out from where it had lain beneath her. It began to explore her, curling over her side, thumb running gently along stomach, the underside of a breast, fingers brushing every curve, palm moulding to her, cupping the muscles of her thigh, fingers dipping deeper… running gently at last near to where his mouth made love to her, but in an entirely new place from there.
Jyn should have known that her desire to hold on would only inevitably lead to Cassian's equal desire to see her just let go. But she could hardly find reason (or breath, or a voice) to complain as it led to his touching her, exploring her all the moreso, her body trembling all the harder, her noises - gasps and moans all the more insistent.
For as much as she wanted to hold off, when she felt a tell-tale fluttering low in her belly she knew (even in the midst of her pleasure-induced fog) that she would not last long at all.
She wanted to be careful, even though they'd swept the apartment and only found the one bug, but it was impossible to keep his name from escaping her lips in a soft but urgent whisper.
He'd been so focused on her, he hadn't paid any attention to his own reactions… But the sound of his name (his real name—skies and hells, they'd better have caught all surveillance—and when in his life had that been the secondary concern—!?) in her voice, her breath, made him abruptly aware of his own knotted desire.
It was a bit of a shock to him. He was so good at ignoring himself, imagining himself away.
But of course, that was when it wasn't real. When he wasn't him. When he didn't mean it.
Now that it was, he was, he did… it made sense that how he felt would actually be…?
But it wasn't the most urgent thing. …It wasn't urgent at all. It would be amazing to address that with her—so amazing his breath stopped and he saw light behind his eyes. But it wasn't required. He could attend to himself or let it pass. If this were to be the end of things.
But this wasn't going to be the end. If she was still there with him and he had any say in it. No… first, at least once, he wanted her to come so hard she saw stars.
He braced himself to ride the waves with her. Lips and mouth and tongue, enveloping her, making her awash with wet and silk and warmth. And his fingers dipped and rubbed her gently just below. More silk and wet. And didn't press her—but stayed steady as her hips moved upon him, until one finger—its pad calloused and rough, its touch not rough at all—slipped inside.
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Usually he had exceptional control… but right now…
(He had so much experience, in so many ways… But not… He'd always wondered what it might be like because he wanted to, with someone he actually liked…)
…he only half-succeeded. Not full rigidity imposing itself, demanding of her… but his body still showed a definite effect.
And a distinct throb accentuated that process, at her voice. What she said.
He pulled back his head, neck arching to do so without separating their bodies; just enough so his eyes could find hers, as his hand found her cheek.
"I love you," he said, quiet and low, back. "By the Force. Jyn… Very much."
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But she was comfortable. She was enjoying every second of this, committing it all to memory, every touch, every kiss, every gasp or groan ... the way his body reacted to hers, not insistent, not pressuring in any way, just enough to show that he was affected as much as she was.
And that throb coaxed a soft moan from her lips as she met his eyes, accepted the gentle touch. "Where you go, I go, okay?"
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Both. Obviously. Don't second-guess. It was both.
"Okay," he whispered back, voice too hoarse for anything louder.
…He dared to try something. Go just a little further.
He bent his face to her again, but this time to her neck. And started kissing her there, along the column of her throat, the gentle curve from ear to clavicle, his lips and tongue working gently on her flesh, flexing tendons and pulse—to monitor her reactions, yes, but not because he mistrusted, now. Because he wanted them to be good. And wanted to learn what would make them so, for her.
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Jyn couldn't imagine being left behind after everything. She couldn't imagine going on with her life the way it was before Cassian had come into it, no matter the circumstances that had brought them together.
But also ...
Jyn didn't think that she wanted to pull back now, either. She wanted Cassian, without a shadow of a doubt, but perhaps more importantly, she trusted him. So when he turned his kisses to her throat, she welcomed him, instinctually canting her head to the side in order to offer him all the room he could ever need in order to continue the path of those kisses, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, her fingers trembling as she carded them through his hair, unconsciously urging more.
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Deeper into her desire she spiraled with every exploratory kiss, every deliberate touch, but even so, she found herself laughing breathlessly as she found herself on her back with him above, still intent upon tasting what little skin she had exposed.
But from this position, she was more able to touch Cassian, too, to explore his arms and sides with gentle fingertips, to trail them along the line of his collarbone, too, and finally down the planes of his chest, the flush of her cheeks darkening as she did.
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Her exploration of him made him pause again; not in his kisses but in his downward trajectory. He liked her taking her own initiative. He didn't want to distract or discourage. So he changed direction, kissing along her shoulder, down her arm, to the inside of her wrist; a mark of approval on her hands' behavior and leaving himself as open to her as she'd made herself to him.
If that was even necessary, when his skin delicately shivered in her fingers' wake.
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All the better was that he allowed her to do it, and how easily he changed paths to allow her more access, and in the moment, all she could feel was grateful to even have the chance to do this and experience it with him.
Jyn didn't know how sensitive her inner arms were until she experienced Cassian pressing a line of kisses down the length of one, and she shivered in response. Deciding to take a risk, she quietly asked - "Will you help me with my shirt?"
Off. She wanted it off. She wanted to experience the pleasure of skin-to-skin contact with the man that she loved.
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He sat back to be able to run his hands, gently, waterlike, under the hem of her shirt, along her body; and push it up, off of her.
They freed her fully. He slung the shirt over the headboard without his eyes ever leaving hers.
He didn't just duck in, again, and go exploring where she'd bared. Instead, he stayed sitting back, his chest and torso as open to her as she'd made hers to him. (Waiting for her, by words or hands, to guide him next.) But lightly, maybe tentatively, he ran his fingertips down the center of her, from breastbone to navel, and over to her ribs.
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But it didn't seem necessary to voice that assurance out loud - and Jyn didn't know if she could muster enough voice to do so, anyway - as she felt his hands delve underneath her thin shirt, and she sat up just enough to allow for it to be lifted up and over her head.
Her blush extended from her cheeks, coloring part of her chest in a lightly mottled pattern, whatever words she might have had to share dissipate on the tip of her tongue as his light touches left her breathless in their wake.
"Feels good", she finally managed, hoarsely. "Your hands."
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Jyn kept still and silent, save for her erratic breathing, so touched as Cassian took his time in learning her, first with fingertips, then with nose and lips, and if she didn't already love him before, the way he was treating her with such care and caution would have seen her falling all over again.
And then she felt as he ever so softly caress the curve of her bare breast, and a quiet, unsteady moan tumbled from her lips.
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She's almost certain that Cassian can feel the near pounding of her heart, or in the moment that he leaned closer, he might have been able to hear the thudding drumbeat against her ribs.
And then, she felt lips to skin, the initial exploratory touch of his tongue, and all she felt were sparks going off along the length of her spine. A sharp gasp, an uncontrollable shiver, and she couldn't be sure of what she even said, but she hoped that whatever it was, it translated to 'yes, yes, yes'.
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He slipped his hands between her and the bed, spread his palms on her back, holding her beneath as he bent his head to keep stimulating her above. He kissed her breasts, her neck, her collarbone, her ribs, her stomach, his hands sliding down her spine to match.
At her waistband—with fingers and lips—he paused. He raised his eyes to her. Should he keep going…?
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But she followed where he led, unconsciously shivering as he drew her deeper into a desire she had never known before.
Cassian paused when he reached her sleep pants, and Jyn raised her head enough to be able to meet his dark eyes. No words passed her suddenly dry lips, but there was no hesitation at all when she raised her hips in a silent acknowledgment that yes, she wanted him to keep going, that she was so ready for whatever was to happen next, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her in return.
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Attentively, almost reverently, he slipped his fingers under the fabric, against her skin, and stripped the pants gently away. He kissed her legs as he bared them, all the way down to her ankles. Before working his way back up, his arms creating a cradle for her—his biceps bracing her thighs—and, with one more quick look at her face, settling himself into the valley between her legs and giving her a first light, careful, entirely different sort of kiss.
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Besides, as she watched the way that Cassian finished disrobing her - so careful and methodical, shivering and sighing as he pressed kisses down the length of her legs and then back up again, her vision hazy at the edges as he held her steady and kissed her in a way that she had only ever read about and heard whispered stories about before.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her inner thigh began to quiver, just a touch. Her fingers clutched at the sheets beneath her a little more tightly, sharply exhaling a breath and a 'yes' all at once.
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This went beyond technique. He knew how to do things on technical, clinical levels that most people never had to think about, let alone achieve, and he'd had ingrained since before his first experience with an actual (nonprofessional) partner. When was the last time he'd wanted them…? When was the last time his knowledge had served actual desire—meant only a lack of impediment in sharing something, rather than being a coldhearted means to an ulterior end…?
He wanted her to feel every good thing the universe had to offer. He was, singularly, grateful he knew something about how to contribute to that. Especially in that it freed him from uncertainty and instead could just focus on her. The feel of her, the taste of her, her movements, the sounds she made, the electricity—maybe Force…??—he felt in every nerve and thought he felt flowing between them…
And as he continued, unrelenting, apparently tireless, lavishing her there, he reached out one hand until his fingers found hers.
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But kriff, Jyn wanted it. She wanted to know what it felt to burst into stardust, to shatter into pieces all around him, because of him, and oh, to take him with her would be the greatest pleasure of all.
Jyn trembled and whimpered underneath the constant attention of his tongue, blindly linking their fingers once she felt Cassian search her out. She felt just on the verge of falling apart completely, but she tried to hold back, as well, wanting this moment in time to last for as long as she could have it.
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His hand twined with hers grasped her gently. His mouth continued its work. (One of the main lessons: know when to have variety and when it to be steadily cumulative. And sometimes both.)
His other hand slipped out from where it had lain beneath her. It began to explore her, curling over her side, thumb running gently along stomach, the underside of a breast, fingers brushing every curve, palm moulding to her, cupping the muscles of her thigh, fingers dipping deeper… running gently at last near to where his mouth made love to her, but in an entirely new place from there.
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For as much as she wanted to hold off, when she felt a tell-tale fluttering low in her belly she knew (even in the midst of her pleasure-induced fog) that she would not last long at all.
She wanted to be careful, even though they'd swept the apartment and only found the one bug, but it was impossible to keep his name from escaping her lips in a soft but urgent whisper.
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He'd been so focused on her, he hadn't paid any attention to his own reactions… But the sound of his name (his real name—skies and hells, they'd better have caught all surveillance—and when in his life had that been the secondary concern—!?) in her voice, her breath, made him abruptly aware of his own knotted desire.
It was a bit of a shock to him. He was so good at ignoring himself, imagining himself away.
But of course, that was when it wasn't real. When he wasn't him. When he didn't mean it.
Now that it was, he was, he did… it made sense that how he felt would actually be…?
But it wasn't the most urgent thing. …It wasn't urgent at all. It would be amazing to address that with her—so amazing his breath stopped and he saw light behind his eyes. But it wasn't required. He could attend to himself or let it pass. If this were to be the end of things.
But this wasn't going to be the end. If she was still there with him and he had any say in it. No… first, at least once, he wanted her to come so hard she saw stars.
He braced himself to ride the waves with her. Lips and mouth and tongue, enveloping her, making her awash with wet and silk and warmth. And his fingers dipped and rubbed her gently just below. More silk and wet. And didn't press her—but stayed steady as her hips moved upon him, until one finger—its pad calloused and rough, its touch not rough at all—slipped inside.
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