Title: Reveal
* * * * * Ouillot wiped her greasy hands on an equally soiled red rag, tossing it back into her tool box. She snapped the lid closed and hefted it, charging up the ramp on her tiny, outdated cruiser. Well, at least it was hers, she thought with a smile, tucking away the box in a smuggling compartment. Ouillot sensed someone behind her and whirled immediately. The swish of Jedi robes greeted her, and she folded her arms with a smirk. “Trespassing is hardly a virtue,” she quipped. Mace Windu’s eyes flickered to hers, not knowing whether she was irritated or teasing him. He paused in the entryway, bowing slightly. “I saw you working, and…” His voice trailed off as Ouillot raised an eyebrow. “You were watching me?” “Yes. No.” He exhaled, and Ouillot swore she sensed nervousness in him. “I was merely passing by, and noticed you. Here.” Ouillot nodded slowly, as if considering a problem. “I see. Well, would you like the grand tour?” Mace nodded politely, and Ouillot offered a mischievous grin. “Well, aside from the cockpit…this is it.” She swept her hand in the air lavishly, and Mace took in the tiny main area with amusement at her playfulness. “Adequate,” he commented. “I don’t need much. Just enough to get away sometimes.” She patted the wall affectionately. Her cruiser, which she named The Escape, was warm and homelike to her, if seeming dilapidated to others. “It is not run down, just simple.” Ouillot glanced at him, eyes half-cast. “Stop reading my mind, Master Windu.” “I apologize, Miss Kenobi.” With a groan, Ouillot dropped her hand and strode toward him, tucking her thumbs in the pockets of her shredded jeans. “When are you ever going to lighten up?” she scolded gently. Though she paused a short distance from him, Mace was uncomfortable by her intense gaze and averted his eyes to his surroundings. “Can I get you something?” Ouillot offered softly, taking another step forward. “A drink, or…anything?” Mace watched her as she stepped forward yet again, this time resting the tips of her fingers on the V at the front of his robe. When he didn’t respond, she patted his chest gently. “Hey, it’s alright,” Ouillot murmured, ducking slightly so he would meet her gaze. He did, and she was immediately unnerved at how his eyes swept over her face questioningly. “You know,” she ventured, allowing her hands to drop away from him. “I’m so sorry if I make you uncomfortable.” Mace’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why do you say that?” “Because I feel like we can’t have a decent conversation without all this weirdness.” “How is that your fault?” Mace asked. As Ouillot fixed him with a meaningful stare, he shook his head. “No, it is no fault of yours.” “Then why…” Ouillot forced a weak smile, waving away her sentiment like a pesky insect. “Never mind.” “Why what?” “It’s not important.” Mace grasped her hands suddenly. “It is. It is important, because you feel it. Tell me, Ouillot.” She gazed at his face, a loving _expression growing the longer she held his eyes with hers. “Do you sense in me what I sense in you, or am I lying to myself?” she asked softly. Her gentle, yearning _expression was melting Mace’s resolve, and frightening him at the same time. He had never seen her with defenses so low, her emotions echoing from the walls like an insistent cry of passion. “What do you sense?” he whispered. Her lower lip trembled as Ouillot moved so that their bodies were touching. Mace did not recoil at the gesture; rather he felt his hands drifting to rest along her waist, then slip around her back. Neither spoke, and Mace felt drowsy as his lips drifted closer to hers. He could feel her breath against his chin, then his lower lip. “Já tì miluji,” Ouillot whispered passionately, his ears ringing with the unfamiliar words. Mace felt his body react at the sound of I love you spoken in his own tongue, from the lips he had wanted to kiss for ages. Without restraint, Mace brought his mouth down upon hers, eager to drink in the soft cry of astonished pleasure she emitted. Ouillot returned his kiss with a slow, eager fire of her own. His body blazed with exquisite pain as he clutched her against him, tasting her, allowing her to touch him and caress him mouth with her tongue. There was never such a feeling in all his life, never such unbridled emotion as he felt now . Ouillot panted his name repeatedly, moaning korunnai words in a half-mad state of passion. Yet for all Ouillot’s bravado, Mace was inwardly amazed that she was allowing him to touch her so intensely, to become the dominant one. It drove his love even higher, his body harder and more rigid as his lips returned to her mouth, gracing it with slow, deliberately loving caresses. Lifting her hand slowly, Ouillot Force-moved the switches that locked the ramp and closed the shield over the cockpit window panel. "Alone," she whispered into Mace's mouth, returning his kiss. "Only us now, love…" He was intoxicated by her sweet breath, energized by the muscles on her slight body as he ran his hands over her clothing. Ouillot worked at his belt as Mace broke the kiss to lap at her throat and exposed shoulder. Her head dipped backward slowly, reveling in his touch. This was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her encounters were always immediate, bent only on physical gratification, yet this…her thoughts grew hazy as Mace's hands clenched against her back, a low sigh uttered sensuously against her throat. Mace slid his hands up to her shoulders, gently easing her away from him. His dark gaze met hers as he slowly unbuttoned her work shirt and slipped it away. He leaned in for a heartfelt kiss, then stepped back to unwind his robes. Ouillot watched him in awe, shivering from the sight of his powerful body under such simple garments. After a moment's pause, Mace spread his robes on the metal floor of the ship. Lifting Ouillot into his arms, he lowered her delicately onto the robes. The very material that kept them apart would become the temple for their lovemaking. Ouillot lay back with a contented sigh as his beautiful, intense eyes raked over her. To Mace, she was the most purely beatific sight he had even witnessed. White. Her simple camisole of white cotton, trimmed with lace, had shifted upward and barely covered her breasts as she reclined on the brown robes. It was a like a baptism, a virginal garment for the wedding of two souls. To Ouillot, Mace was everything she hadn't dared imagine. Their emotional connection was compounded by their attraction to one another. As he lingered over her, she was astounded at how smooth and rich his skin felt, how fathomless his eyes appeared, reflecting tiny images of her within them. His lips were full and delicious, and she wanted nothing more than to feel them over her body, at last. Mace could feel her nipples pique through the thin material as Ouillot snaked her fingers around the back of his neck, leading his mouth over hers. They exchanged soft kisses and silent words, her lips moving to his cheeks and ears, setting a fire in their wake. As if she were a fragile treasure, Mace's hand roamed beneath the flimsy camisole, brushing her breasts and stomach with the most delicate of touches. Ouillot writhed with the blissful, unfamiliar sensation, returning the gestures along his back and shoulders. As his fingers lingered along the waist of her pants, he suddenly stopped. She felt his kiss again, his hand returning to cup her cheek lovingly. Somewhat puzzled, she opened her eyes, and recognized anxiety in his face. I've always been a part of the Order…I've never known something like this. His innocence struck her with surprise and awe, and Ouillot smiled lovingly at him. She grasped his wrist and directed his hand over her body, pausing to encourage his exploration of places she wanted desperately to share with him. Ouillot heard his breath catch as his arm tensed, pulling away slightly. Nervous, Mace? Concerned… Bullshit, hun…I’m sick of your composure. She redirected his hand to her lips, sucking at his fingers gently before slipping them underneath her cami. Her touch joined his in tantalizing her nipples with damp, gentle strokes. Just follow your instincts and let go, for once in your life, Mace. His caresses grew more brazen, and Mace gazed upon her face in amazement at her immediate reaction. Ouillot moaned pleadingly, her face flushing slightly, her back arched for more. When he trailed his fingers downward to her most private area, she grazed her fingers across his lips, feeling his breath moving in gasps. Rising gradually, Ouillot began to kiss Mace with unrestrained passion. He responded eagerly as they knelt before one another, locked in a firm embrace. She slowly urged him onto his back, directing his hands to the front of her pants. She cautiously ran her fingers over the bulge in his trousers, and he inhaled sharply. Ouillot nipped at his lips, offering her own soft, pleading cries in response. You feel so good, Mace… Já tì miluji …please, take me… Her sensual voice in his head was driving him insane, and Mace swiftly removed her pants. His hand trailed along her backside, clad in the same white cotton and lace as her upper body. She straddled him teasingly, stroking his heated privates with hers. Mace's eyes drifted closed, his breathing labored though he tried to remain composed. Ouillot crept down to unlace his breeches, exposing him completely. "No need to restrain yourself here, Master Windu," she breathed against his abdomen. Her kisses to his muscular body grew insistent, her tongue outlining every firm muscle until he thought his body would explode with desire. Ouillot, take me inside you, I beg of you…please, I need you… She paused, slowing her movements and backing away a bit. Am I only a 'need', Mace? Never. I love you, Ouillot. Let me fill you with my love… As she crept over him, Mace was half-sitting and reached for her panties. She kissed him deeply, her heart thundering at the small whimpers he emitted as he removed the last barrier between them. As Mace lay back, the glow of the overhead lights became a halo around her cherry-red hair. Her tender smile was a light of love in his black-and-white existence. She placed her hands on either side of his head and slid backward until her body encompassed him. Ouillot's eyes flickered closed at his exhaled moan, the feeling of him quickening inside her much too bittersweet. Mace caressed her upper body and grasped her waist firmly as he matched her movements. Ouillot rode him sensuously, savoring the connection, feeling every part of his body and every ounce of his spirit joining with hers. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead, beads of it dropping to mingle with the perspiration on his neck and chest. As her release neared, Ouillot opened her eyes. Her gaze locked with Mace's silent and intense expression. The corners of his eyes were touched with tears as Ouillot's loving gaze grew more intent on the moment between them. Mace suddenly stopped all motion and sat upright, wrapping an arm around her waist. His lips closed over hers hungrily, and she locked her legs around his waist. He rolled her onto her back and began to make love to her with complete abandon. His kisses trailed over her face and neck, always returning to her lips to swallow her cries. The thrusts became deeper and more frantic, and Ouillot clenched her heels into his lower back as her body was ravaged with unprecedented pleasure. She heard a low growl from Mace's throat among the panting, and the awareness of his gratification sent her body into a cascade of exquisite explosions. Mace's senses were consumed with her shouts of pleasure, the scent of her body and luscious dampness surrounding him. In the midst of his own uncontrollable ecstasy, he called out her name with desperation. Lowering his forehead to her neck, Mace could feel her heart beating madly beneath his cheek. He placed a tender kiss under her chin, then lifted his head slightly. Ouillot's eyes were closed and she panted heavily, a blissful smile touching her lips. Mace moved aside and drew her against his chest, unable to keep from kissing any bit of her face that he could reach. Finally settling on her lips, Ouillot responded with a meaningful, lingering embrace that lasted for quite some time. When they broke away, Mace snuggled her close, tucking her head under his chin and stroking her hair leisurely. I do love you, Ouillot. I never doubted that, hun. Not once…not ever. With a kiss on her forehead, Mace allowed his sated mind to drift sleepily. He caught snippets of her loving and contented musings as they lay together, locked away from the world that expected them to remain parted. The End
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