The house is quiet. You’re out with him doing producer-things and probably won’t be home for a couple hours. If he takes you out to the new bar, it’ll be a couple more. I have some time to fill with thoughts of you.

Stepping out of my shoes in the foyer, I cross to the kitchen and pull the bottle of wine you got me for my birthday out of the refrigerator. I pour a glass and take a sip. As the red liquor slides down my throat, I smile, thinking of how it tasted on your lips.

I put the bottle back, but leave the mostly-empty glass on the counter. I’ll wash it later.

Beru blinks at me from her spot on the couch and I can’t help but think she looks rather perturbed. She yawns and rolls over and I realize I must have woken her up from his evening nap. Before long though, she’s fast asleep again, and I’m thankful for that.

Grabbing a book from the shelf, I pad barefoot down the hall and into the bedroom. I can smell you here with me and suddenly the thoughts of the book in my hand are replaced by thoughts of you, of your smile…of your body…of how much I want you with me, how much I can’t wait for you to come home, how much I need you.

It unnerves me that I “need” you.

But it excites me too.

Dropping the book on the dresser, I strip off my clothes piece-by-piece as I cross to the closet. I open the doors and pull the silk robe that you got me for my last birthday from its hanger. I caress the embroidery with my fingertips before slipping into it.

I tie the sash around my waist.

I shut the door.

I close the blinds.

I crawl onto the bed and collapse into the pillows. The pillows smell like you.

I close my eyes.

In the darkness and surrounded by your scent, I imagine you smile at me while your naked body leans against the doorway. Your eyes flash that predatory spark you hide so often. Pushing away from the frame, you slink towards me and crawl onto the bed which shifts ever so slightly under your weight. I flush as you move on top of me, sliding so easily between my legs. Tangling your long fingers in my hair, you tug my head to the side, exposing my throat, and I gasp.

I want your lips on me.

I want you to leave marks.

But you have other plans.

With your fingers, you trace the line of my jaw and then move down my throat. I wonder for a moment if you can feel my heart pounding under your hands. Another sharp tug from the fingers still twisted in my hair chase my thoughts back to where they should be.

Under you.

Submissive to you.

My breath comes in soft pants as your free hand ghosts across my exposed chest, parting the robe as you move down, down…down to my hips where the sash is still bound and hides what I know you want to see.

Without any sign of vexation, and with one hand still holding tight to my scalp, you undo the knot with your free hand and part the robe to expose me to your hungry eyes. You pick up where you left off and slide your hand down over my hip and along my thigh. I moan and arch up against your hand as it moves open-palmed against my skin.

I hear you chuckle somewhere deep in your chest but then you’re moving on top of me again. I feel your lips brush against my ear and I shiver.

Spread your legs for me, Baby, you whisper. I feel your tongue dart out and caress the shell of my ear. I moan again and am all too willing to comply.

Your hands rejoin each other on my shoulders, sliding the robe over them until it’s pinned under me. Together they move down my chest, tweaking my hardened nipples as they pass, earning another gasp from me. They move down my stomach, pulling the muscles in my abdomen taught with invisible strings. They move down my hips, stroking the protruding bones with adoration. They move down, down, down…You spread my legs wider and bend my knees up, and I’m completely exposed.

I feel your hair brush against my thighs and it acts as my only warning before you take me into your mouth. I cry out and arch off the bed. I know how much you like it when I’m ‘vocal.’

In and out…in and out…tighter, faster. Your tongue slides along the underside of my length, along the throbbing vein, and dips into the slit at the head before you engulf me again. Your mouth fucks me while I writhe under you, surrounded by your scent.

I’m delirious for you. My head thrashes against the pillows as I thrust up into the wet heat of your mouth. I feel your fingers brush against my entrance. I thrust back against them, my muscles tensing, yearning.

I want to be yours completely. I need to be yours.

“Take me,” I gasp. I almost don’t recognize the sound of my own voice. It’s ragged, desperate, starving.

You pull me deeper into your mouth as your fingers thrust up into me, driving hard against that spot buried inside me. I scream. Thrusting up, thrusting down.

All too soon it’s over and I collapse back into the bed. I drift in euphoria for some time, surrounded by the smell of you and sex.

Blinking my eyes open. I groan and force myself off of the bed, staggering in the direction of the bathroom to clean up. As I step into the shower, I bring my sticky fingers to my mouth and taste myself on them. I draw one of them entirely into my mouth as I turn the showerhead on. My tongue slides against it, wondering how you’ll taste tonight.

I want you with me.

I can’t wait for you to come home.

I need you tonight.