Control The Uncontrollable // The Acolyte

77. Desperation

You closed the doors to your private chambers, as you pushed your back against the door. Deeply inhaling as you closed your eyes. How did you dare to speak to Qimir about such things as purification, when your mind was so haunted? You were the furthest from pure. You had spent so much time with Qimir, and kept yourself separate from him, it had created such a large amount of pint up energy inside of you. It had begun to become uncomfortable.

Qimir knew how to turn you on too, with his sleeves shirts. For force's sake, he had been wearing them all day every day. Then it was the way they would move. How Qimir's hand would form into fists every time he struggled a bit with the force, displaying his strong veins. Moments like just now, when he laid his hands on the table, waiting for you to touch him.

But you couldn't touch him. You fear what would happen if you did, but it was a loophole to this impossible situation. You inhaled deeply, as you let your hands move underneath the fabric of your clothes and undergarments. It felt like your whole body was rising as you touched yourself. A gasp fell out of your lips.

In your head, you were back at the dinning table, studying his hands as they reached out for you. It felt so good, it was almost like he was here, at least in your dreams. Your fingers moved further and further in, as you tried to replicate the movements he used to do on you.

"Fuck," You moaned low when you finally found a good spot.

A kick of sanity washed over you as you realized you stood right by the door. You moved away and looked around in the room. You needed more... You needed him, but you couldn't have him. Your eyes glanced over at your lightsaber, no, that was insane. You were becoming an insane woman. You forced your eyes away before you placed the pillows at the top of each other. It was no excuse for your foolish behavior, but you were desperate.

You moved your body against the pillows. It didn't feel like him. Truthfully nothing did, but him did, but it did help to imagine him here. He would cheer you on. Say that you worked so hard for him, and you did work hard. His hands would be trace your curves, and occasionally push hair behind your back ear. You couldn't help yourself but to begin to moan his name. You were so close.

The door began to knock.

You swallowed low, but didn't stop, you needed the relief.

"Master Y/n, Grand Master Gios is requesting your presence for your weekly-" One of the guards began.

"Of course, give me five minutes," You couldn't hide your annoyance as you shouted.

If Qimir was here, he would laugh. A part of you think that he would enjoy the challenge of having the guards outside. His hand would be wrapped around your mouth, stopping you from moaning. Your nails would be digging into his skin, seeking a form to let your emotions out. Tracing his old scars, as your fingers would leave new scars. Only difference was that Qimir liked yours. A smile grew on your lips of the thought.

"It's been five minutes, Master Y/n" Another guard shouted.

You groaned in annoyance as you opened your eyes. Your hands hit the mattress as you sat up. Not only did you feel like an idiot, but you didn't even get the relief that you needed. You never did, without him. You shrugged, and walked over to the sink as you washed your hands, staring into the mirror. It was easy to put on a brave face in front of Qimir, but behind closed doors, you were just as desperate as him.