NOTE: This story is Rated NC-17 and contains graphic sexual situations. If you're under the age of 18, BACK OUT OF HERE NOW!!! The Star Wars characters are property of 20th Century Fox and Lucasfilm, Ltd. The rest of the story is copyright (c) 1998 Cheree Cargill. No infringement is intended on any legally existing copyright. Not a plugged credit was made on this. This was written purely for enjoyment and one copy of the story may be downloaded for the pleasure of the reader. No further copies may be made or distributed without the express written consent of the author!

CABIN FEVER

by Cheree Cargill

(originally published in "The Rest of the Garbage" #3, 1998)

The wind blasting off the ice plains all but shoved the two fur-wrapped travelers through the door of the emergency shelter. Halfway back to Elektra Base, the engine on their snowspeeder had sputtered ominously a few times, then died with a stunning finality. They had worked for a half timepart trying to get it started, but at last the taller of the two straightened and slammed the cowling down.

"It's no use," he yelled against the howl of the blizzard. "We've blown an injection motivator. There's no way to fix it out here."

The smaller figure turned to survey their surroundings. "We have to find shelter!" she shouted back. "There should be an emergency cabin near here. If we can make it, we'll be safe until help arrives." She swung her portable sensor pack back and forth, then said, "There it is! I've picked up the beacon! Get the gear out of the speeder and let's go! We've got to make it before it gets dark!"

And so, the pair set out through the blowing snow, trudging resolutely towards the faint signal that beeped steadily ahead of them. When the emergency shelter finally came into view, the two had struggled for four hours through snowdrifts and were nearly frozen. Over the portal, the wind stopped abruptly and the cabin seemed blessedly warm. It was an illusion, though, as they both knew. It was warm merely in contrast with the blizzard screaming outside.

The man dropped the gear after they had secured the door and stumbled across the room to the heating unit. It was an older, solid fuel model but the heating coils bloomed into immediate life. Still, it would take some time for the cabin to warm up.

"Check the bed," he ordered, teeth chattering. "See if there's a heated bedroll."

"Yes," the woman responded.

"Turn it on, then get out of those wet clothes and get in it!"

She hesitated. "Han," she said. "There's only one bed."

"I know. Doesn't matter. We've got to get warm as quick as we can." He was already stripping his wet furs and thermals off, then realized that she had not moved. "Oh, come on, Leia. I promise you'll be unsullied in the morning." He turned away again, ignoring her, and proceeded to peel down to his underwear. Leia found herself blushing to see that he wore hip-hugging gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination.

He turned back the covers, slipped in and pulled the self-heating bedcovers up to his chin. She stood for a minute more, then decided that she was being foolish. She undressed down to her panties and undershirt, paused, then hesitantly got into the other side of the bed. The heat radiating from the bedroll was the most glorious thing she'd ever experienced. She could feel her frozen bones thawing almost immediately. Inadvertently, her foot touched Han's leg and she jerked away.

He looked injured. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"You're a block of ice, is what you are!" she responded. "Just be quiet and let me warm up! I don't think I've ever been so cold in my life!" For a second, she expected a smart-ass remark, but he didn't say anything. He was shivering and hugging the blankets, his eyes closed. She sank down into the warmth and let it envelope her.

Gradually, the heat penetrated her frigid limbs and torso and she began to relax. Beside her, Han had stopped shaking uncontrollably and was breathing with a soft, easy rhythm. His features had smoothed out and she took advantage of the moment to study his face in the half-light of the dying day. She had long ago noted the scar on his chin and his off-center nose, but this was the first time she'd let her gaze play upon his full, expressive lips, or the way the individual hairs grew in his brows, or the way his lashes lay upon his cheeks in sleep. Inexplicably, she found herself wanting to reach out and run her fingertips along his jawline until they reached his mouth.

He shifted and turned slightly towards her and opened his eyes. She looked hastily away, embarrassed at having been caught studying him. "What?" he inquired in a whisper.

"Nothing. I'm sorry." She turned over with her back to him and tried to get comfortable, but found that the pins holding her hair in place kept poking her scalp.

He noticed and softly touched her shoulder. "Leia, why don't you take your hair down?"

"Um ... I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's ... not ... well, Alderaani women only unbraid their hair for their husbands," she answered, hiding her face so he wouldn't see her mortification.

He chuckled indulgently. "I promise I won't tell anyone. Do it for me, okay?"

Startled, she looked back over her shoulder at him. "What?"

"I mean, I can't sleep with you fidgeting like that. It's going to be a long, cold night and I'm tired. Take your hair down and get some rest. Who gives a damn if I saw you unbraided?"

"I do," she answered. "I'll try not to disturb you." She saw his shoulders move in an indifferent shrug then settled down into as comfortable a position as she could manage, and lay for a long time listening to the blizzard howl and rail against the little cabin.

Heat, blessed heat cocooned her, floating her away on its wings. After a while, she slept and in her dreams, she found herself stretched on the hot white sand of a secluded beach. Fruit palms nodded overhead and the sun sparkled on the placid, endless waves reaching and spending themselves on the sand.

As she watched, Han emerged from the ocean, flinging wet hair out of his face, and strode toward her. His muscular body was bronzed and dripping, gleaming in the sunlight, but she was caught by how tightly his wet swimsuit, riding low on his hips, molded itself to his body. He grinned as he saw where her gaze was riveted and asked, "See anything in particular that catches your fancy?"

"Mmm, I'm not sure," she responded silkily. "I'll have to examine the merchandise a little more closely."

"That can be arranged," he answered and dropped down to his knees beside her, giving her a closer viewpoint.

Lightly, she ran her fingertips up the inside of his thigh until she was almost touching the intriguing shapes encased by the wet material. Then she teasingly trailed her nails across the prominent and enlarging bulge that so fascinated her. "That looks dangerous," she whispered. "Are you sure you know how to use that thing?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely," he answered. "Allow me to demonstrate." Leaning down, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, then drew her against him in a hard, fervent embrace, the hot soft sand cradling their writhing bodies.

Suddenly, he flipped her over onto her hands and knees and positioned himself behind her. "No!" she cried and, giggling, tried to get away, scrambling on all fours. But he caught her ankle and pulled her back to him, belly down on the sand, then quickly covered her with his body.

"Oh, no, you don't," he said. "I haven't finished with my demonstration!"

"Stop! Stop!" she cried, not wanting him to stop at all as he held her firmly with one arm and groped for her bikini bottoms with the other hand. He succeeded in hooking the edge of them and yanked them down off her, causing her to scream in mock distress.

Still holding her, he used his free hand to work his own briefs down, freeing his magnificent erection. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this demonstration can't be halted once you've started it," he grinned. Shifting into a kneeling position, he spread her legs and pulled her astraddle his lap, still face-down, and probed into the depths of her pussy with the head of his cock. She squealed in delighted horror.

"Quiet, please," he ordered. "I'm demonstrating." With that, he lifted her hips slightly and shoved his throbbing rod into her...

Leia awoke abruptly, the aftermath of the dream still gripping in her. She was surprised at the explicitness of the dream and depth of sexual excitement it had provoked in her, and particularly that Han would be the one exciting her. It was almost with a start that she realized he was snuggled against her spoon-style, asleep, his soft breath on her shoulder, his legs tangling with hers. In sleep, they had both sought the warmth of the other's body. His arm was draped across her waist and she spent a while just studying the textures of his hand, the little scars and scrapes, the hairs sprouting from his skin, the shape of his nails. How paradoxical that that hand could caress a cheek or grip a blaster.

She made another discovery. It felt *good* lying here with him, listening to the blizzard blast outside. It felt safe and right, in a way she'd never known. She found that she wanted to sink into his protective arms and let him take care of her. And there was another thing. Her senses, still heightened from the dream, were reaching out to savor the revelation of his presence. She became aware of every aspect of his body, the way he smelled, the sound and feel of his breath sighing against her, the sensation of his skin hot against hers. She was particularly aware of his half-erect penis pressing into her buttocks and the vivid dream image of him taking her from behind, of his hard, pounding cock inside her, of the delicious spiral of approaching orgasm, proved the factor that drove her hormones into high gear, urging her in no uncertain terms, *He's not a dream. He's here. He's real. Turn over and take him in your arms!*

For a little while, she lay still and tried to fight it, analyzing her feelings about the situation. Han frequently aggravated her to the point of homicide, but she had to admit that he was an incredibly sexy man and more than once she had felt nearly overwhelmed by the power of his masculinity. Now, with the heat of his body pressing against hers, she found that the surge pulsing through her overrode any logic she might have had. With resignation, she knew that she wanted him; more than that, she needed him ... needed him with a desperation that surprised her. Suddenly she didn't care about the consequences. She'd think about those when they were rescued ... providing they ever were. Right now, all that mattered was Han and a hunger for him that was threatening to devour her.

Slowly, she placed her hand over his where it lay loosely on her waist. Immediately, his breathing changed and she felt his body tense as he awoke and realized where he was. He made to draw his arm away from her but she pressed his hand and stayed the movement. Without speaking, without looking at one another, their bodies communicated volumes. He was wary, apprehensive, questioning ... waiting for her to make the next move.

Gently, she brought his hand up to cup her breast. It felt wonderful and she closed her eyes to savor the anticipatory chill that passed over her. She heard him swallow and his breathing roughened a bit. Softly, he asked, "Leia, are you sure?"

In answer, she pressed back against him and held his hand more firmly against her breast, her nipples hardening through the thin material. "Oh, yes," she whispered. She twisted around in his arms and turned her face up to his. "Yes, Han, yes."

"Not unless you're really sure."

"I'm really sure."

"What's brought this on?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"For Sith's sake -- being in bed with you like this has me so hot I can't think straight."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

She was silent for a moment then said, "I'll prove it to you." She sat up and began to remove the hairpins holding her braids in place. Freed from their restraints, the wealth of brown locks fell about her shoulders and she shook her head to loosen any plaiting left.

Turning back to him, she found him staring at her, his wonderful green-gold eyes shining. "Leia, you're beautiful," he murmured, then smiled and patted her pillow. She slid down beside him again and he drew her into his arms.

"Han," she whispered against his lips. "I *want* you. If I weren't sure, I wouldn't ask. Now, stop trying to protect my virtue and make love to me." She slid her arm around his neck and drew him into a fiery embrace.

He met her kiss softly at first, then giving in, answered her growing passion with his own increasing fervor. Her aroused body pressing against him, the sweet musty taste of her mouth, the eagerness with which she sought him opened a wellspring and it quickly grew into a frantic grappling between them. The sexual tension between them had been so long suppressed that primal need seemed to consume them both. He slid his hand up under her shirt, engulfing her breast in his big warm hand as he devoured her mouth with hungry kisses, then quickly pulled her shirt up out of the way and descended on her breast, sucking it into his mouth, working at it with his tongue.

She pulled away just long enough to strip the shirt off over her head and fling it unseen across the room. The air in the room was still cool, compared with the heat of the bed, and her skin thrilled with gooseflesh. It caused her nipples to harden immediately into taut bullets. He pulled her back to him, moving down, massaging, licking, nuzzling. She tangled her fingers into his hair, gasping as he tongued and sucked her erect nipples, first one then the other, deftly bringing her up to wonderful peaks of arousal.

His kisses moved farther down her torso, down over the soft flesh of her stomach, where he paused to tease at her navel with his tongue. The waistband of her panties blocked his path, but he turned the obstacle to opportunity by nuzzling around the barrier, nudging the garment farther down. As he kissed and rubbed his chin against the soft pale skin of her lower abdomen, his hand slipped between her legs, the cotton barrier of the panties infuriating and tantalizing at the same time. They were slick with her juices and he massaged the wet material into and around the alluring folds of her cunt.

Her hot musky scent finally cracked his own trembling patience and he yanked the briefs down her slim legs and away, then buried his face for a moment in her bush, drinking in her odor. She moaned and opened her legs to him and he set to work licking and stroking the intriguing delights of her secret places.

At last, when she thought she could stand it no longer, he raised his head and traced the path back up to take her mouth again, their tongues darting and fencing. She slid her leg over his hip and rhythmically moved against the intriguing shapes and textures below his abdomen. The hard shaft of his erection thrust against her groin and she slipped her hand inside his shorts to wrap her fingers around the silky smoothness of his penis. He groaned and moved his hips so that it slipped up and down within her grasp.

After a moment, she removed her hand and tugged at his briefs, and he obliged by helping her pull them down from his hips and then kicking out of them. They fell back together, wrestling more frantically as their sensitized flesh came truly together for the first time. Kissing, probing with tongues, their hands stroked and explored each other's body until it seemed neither could stand it any longer. Then Han rolled her onto her back and moved atop her.

"Yes, yes..." she gasped as he quickly positioned himself. She opened fully to him and lifted her hips to receive his breathless, powerful, seeking plunge. The power she had felt in him, the sheer masculine force of his personality left her clutching at his muscled back, riding the bruising strength of his intensive thrusts, sinking back into the incredible vortex of unparalleled orgasm.

Her femininity centered itself on his maleness and she felt an uncontrollable keening groan rise in her throat. After a moment, she realized he was answering with a moan hissing out through his clenched teeth, as he clutched her shoulders with iron fingers. His whole body was hard and glistening with sweat, the pile-driver thrusts slowed but more intense than ever, clearly building to an explosive conclusion.

Her own passion reached a knife edge and she froze, holding her breath as he drove into her once, twice, three more times and froze himself for an endless moment, then his pent breath released with a little cry and hers followed, their bodies melding together in a hot, dizzying gush of mutual intensity. He shuddered above her, inside her for an eternity as she clutched him, her body hungrily receiving his hot, pumping flow.

At last, he sagged against her and relaxed. She felt limp as well and lay motionless beneath him, savoring the feel of his weight still on her, his fading passion still within her, her whole being still tingling with the joyous afterglow of their joining. Finally, he rolled off her and lay catching his breath.

For some time, they snuggled against each other, quietly appreciating the haven of their bed as they listened to the blizzard screech and moan around the cabin. The red glow of the heating unit's coils cast a faint light over them and it hummed contentedly and steadily. After a while, he looked over at her and smiled, the impish twinkle she knew so well crinkling his eyes. "You know something? I'm still not quite thawed out. I think we'd better stay here in bed for a few more days until we get thoroughly warmed up."

She smiled wryly and observed a significant height change in the blanket. "That shouldn't be too hard. In fact, I think your temperature is rising already. Here, let me check..." And she dived under the covers to examine his thermometer.

THE END