[The soft press at his spine does little to reassure him — he knows well enough what he’s done by allowing her this. And yet, so many years under someone else’s command have left him pining for the ease of it, at the expense of personal security. She was not necessarily a safe person to allow that sort of access (not to him, heir apparent to Lord Vader), but she was easily the safest out of anyone else.
His hand resumes its task at that same lazy pace, enough to keep him interested but not enough to advance too far. If she wanted to take care of him, then he would know what to do by the nature of the bond. Higher thought was not required for the task. He feels her intent through the Force, the grip on his ass as she beckons him to the edge of the bend, and turns him around.
Coaxing him to bend takes a moment longer, but eventually it happens, the waistband of his pants inching further doward thanks to friction alone. Perhaps unsurprisingly, even in spite of his resistence, bending is a natural position for him. His shoulders find the mattress, and his long legs force him to take a knee. one cheek pillowed against clean sheets.
Did you let them touch you like this? He squeezes his eyes shut to force down the vocalization that threatens to bubble from him, but the intent communicates cleanly. No. No one had been allowed to touch him more than absolutely necessary. He had not been able to allow more — it didn’t help. All it did was remind him of her absence, while failing to provide an adequate substitute. He tries to quell it, even now, to erase some of the fury and shame he feels for needing her to find relief from her absence.]
no subject
His hand resumes its task at that same lazy pace, enough to keep him interested but not enough to advance too far. If she wanted to take care of him, then he would know what to do by the nature of the bond. Higher thought was not required for the task. He feels her intent through the Force, the grip on his ass as she beckons him to the edge of the bend, and turns him around.
Coaxing him to bend takes a moment longer, but eventually it happens, the waistband of his pants inching further doward thanks to friction alone. Perhaps unsurprisingly, even in spite of his resistence, bending is a natural position for him. His shoulders find the mattress, and his long legs force him to take a knee. one cheek pillowed against clean sheets.
Did you let them touch you like this? He squeezes his eyes shut to force down the vocalization that threatens to bubble from him, but the intent communicates cleanly. No. No one had been allowed to touch him more than absolutely necessary. He had not been able to allow more — it didn’t help. All it did was remind him of her absence, while failing to provide an adequate substitute. He tries to quell it, even now, to erase some of the fury and shame he feels for needing her to find relief from her absence.]