Their First Time
"What you said before," Iella said, a whisper against his mouth, "about being in your life for good, sounded a lot like a proposal."
"Let me make it formal." Wedge pulled back, to stand, to adopt a traditional pose, but Iella didn't release him.
"Later," she said. "After Adumar. Let's just say for now that I'm willing to stop making mistakes if you are."
"It's a deal." He supposed she wanted to hear the words in surroundings less alien, in times less stressful.
They kissed again, briefly, and she snuggled in closer, resting her head on his chest. He brought a hand up to stroke her glossy hair, and encountered the clips holding it in place. Moving to unclasp them, he paused, and cocked his head to one side for a moment.
He was thinking about what to do next. He really ought to say goodnight to Iella. He wasn't sure how far she would want to take things, and he knew that he was getting to the point of not being able to break off.
He also felt a little guilty. He hadn't meant to leave Janson in the hall, his faithful wingman, for quite so long. He certainly hadn't meant for Wes to wait for him while he and Iella made long, passionate love to each other all night. That would just be cruel. If Wes did that to him, Wedge would've meted out all kinds of cruel and unusual punishments for the cocky pilot, to take him down a few pegs.
"Intelligence to Starfighter Command . . . come in?" Iella was looking at him warily. "You're a million klicks away, love." Wedge focused in on her, her face now pulled back from his own, her eyes quizzically seeking his. He smiled.
His eyes became determined, and he laughed a low, guttural chuckle. He owes me, he thought. Ewok pilot indeed. A slow, evil grin spread across his face, and he softly said aloud, "Yub yub, Major."
"Hmmm?" Iella was still looking at him. "Not a thing, love," he said, finally focusing his full attention on the beautiful creature in his arms.
Iella felt her insides flutter and seem to turn themselves over in her gut as his coffee colored gaze bored into her. She knew this was it. She'd run through this moment in her mind, all those years ago. Then, she'd felt it was only a matter of time. It will come, she'd told herself. Be patient. You know he'll be there, gentle and competent. Finally, at some point and with infinite sadness, she had locked those thoughts away in a sealed box, at the back of her mind. His gaze was ripping that seal to shreds.
The softness in his tone belied the curtness of military brevity as he asked, "Now?" Iella closed her eyes for the briefest of moments as she inhaled, and then lay back on the sofa. Stretching her arms up in a welcoming embrace, she breathed, "Now."
His own insides seemed to be pulling through a too-tight turn in his X-wing as several g-forces seemed to melt his spine. He reached for her, laying himself over her on the sofa and first locked gazes with her again.
"Got a target lock, General?" she teased. What is he waiting for? she thought. Is he not sure?
"I just can't believe this is happening," he said. "I'm afraid if I kiss you, you'll disappear and I'll wake up."
"You're wide awake. Going to engage?"
He brushed a lock of honey-colored hair from her forehead and softly pressed his lips to her temple. Then he lay his own forehead against hers, never closing his eyes. She met his intensity for a long moment as their bodies lay pressed together and then, infinitely slowly, she turned her face to one side and felt her skin tingle as she massaged his stubbly cheek with her smooth one.
Oh gods, he thought, I'm going to lose it. He brought his hands up to caress her face, brought his lips down to her own, and gently, lightly just brushed over them with his, once. Twice.
Iella had had it. She took his head in both her hands and continued staring into his intense brown eyes with her starry blue ones. "Wedge, let go," she said. "I'm not going to break. You don't have to hold back. It's me. I trust you."
He nodded almost imperceptibly as he softly intoned, "Very well." He then brought his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately, using his tongue to part her lips and seek out the warm wetness inside. She responded instantly, twining her tongue with his and trailing lazy arcs around his back and shoulders with her hands.
He broke away from her for a moment, and began his assault on her tunic, looking for buttons. "How does this crazy thing work?" he muttered.
"Hang on," Iella said, disentangling herself and standing up. She grabbed the bottom of her tunic and simply pulled it up over her head.
He was at her side in an instant, reaching around her back to unhook her undergarment and gently pull it away, until she stood before him in all her glory, her full breasts staring at him above her taut abs.
She's gorgeous, Wedge thought. She was a head taller than Qui, and in top physical condition — not too muscular, but just right. He knew she could be deadly, but at that moment, she looked unsure of herself.
"Something wrong, love?" she asked.
"Something's right," he said, stooping take her left nipple in his hungry mouth, as his hands went to the buckle on her trousers.
"Oh . . .," she gasped, stumbling a little. Not looking up, Wedge reached with his right arm around her waist, steadying her by flattening has palm against the small of her back. She stood shakily and put her hands on his shoulders, gently squeezing.
Recovering, she leaned forward enough to whisper into his hair, "I never thought of you as a cape kind of guy," and untied the string of his black cloak. As it fluttered to the floor, she pushed him away a little. "Off with it, flyboy," she said, pointing at his shirt. "You've got me at a disadvantage."
He quickly complied, pulling off his shirt. What the hell, he thought, might as well get it all over with, taking off his boots and pants as well. He left his boxers on, wanting to see what she did about it.
Meanwhile, Iella sat on the couch, meticulously unlacing her knee- high boots. "Want to move this to somewhere more comfortable?" she asked him, not looking up from her progress on her boots.
"How the hell can you be so calm?" he asked unbelievingly, his breath growing shallow.
Surprised, she looked up to answer, and her breath caught in her throat. "Well, if I had known all those muscles were hiding under that flight suit all these years, I wouldn't have been," she said with surprise, hungrily drinking in the sight of his body So much younger and tighter than Direk's had been! she thought.
Wedge had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment, before offering her his hand up from the sofa and pulling her into his arms. "Wait to you feel them in action," he said playfully, winking at her before kissing her, hard.
"Wedge, I ..." Iella stopped short, as he bent down and scooped her up, throwing her gently over his shoulder and saying, "Where's the bed? C'mon, no more stalling."
"What's got in to you, General?"
"Not `General.' Cockpit Wedge, on the ground, like you said. All action, not much talk. Where, again?"
Laughing, her head up-side-down near his waist, she shocked him by nipping his side with her teeth. "Through that door, Flyboy, and don't bang my head on it."
He carried her into the bedroom, spying the somewhat shabby bed in the center of the dimly lit room. Reaching it, he gently placed her on the bed, and then stood back, looking down at her.
She reached out for his hand. He took both of hers in his and allowed
her to pull him down on top of her. He kissed her shoulder and buried
his head in her neck. "Oh Iella," he breathed. "Finally."
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