Han & Leia | You Could Use a Good Kiss

You Could Use a Good Kiss

A/N: Intended as a one-shot, but I may or may not continue it later :)

Tempers were flaring in cold blazes. It seemed as though they had both been waiting for this moment, passions simmering until a spark flew and roughly set afire previously unspoken words.

Leia couldn't believe his audacity. Cheeks flushed despite the cool temperature of the base, she looked up at him, incensed, "You're imagining things."

"Am I? Then why are you following me?" he taunted, "Afraid I was gonna leave without a goodbye kiss?"

She looked disdainful, every inch the ice princess on her frozen planet, so there could be no mistaking her blatant rejection, "I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee."

There was a sharp pause, heavy with the bottled frustration and desire of the past three years. And then, he did something unexpected.

He smiled. Not just any smile either. The trademark, slow, crooked, cocky, attractive Han Solo smile that made her toes curl and heat coil low in her stomach.

He took a step forward, causing her to take one back unconsciously. "I think we should test that theory," he murmured in a low tone.

Her eyes widened, but before she could open her mouth to retort back something insulting, before her clouded brain could even begin to process the implications behind his words, he'd caught her arm in a determined, unbreakable hold and was hauling her along the passage.

"Han! Where-" she abruptly fell silent as he opened a door to a storage room, flicked on the dim lights, and bolted the door shut.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, although she had a pretty clear idea.

"Testing your theory. Proving why you need me," his hands fell on either side of the door around, effectively entrapping her where she stood. She suddenly felt very small and overpowered. Yet, oddly enough, it wasn't abhorrent...

"Let me go," she said softly as he leaned in, yet he paid no heed, and her body made no attempt to push him away either.

He let his lips hover just over hers, his breath caressing in warm whispers. "You want me to stay because of this."

And then he kissed her.

Instead of being roughly aggressive as she would have expected him to be, as all his sharp taunts had suggested, he was gentle and slow, taking her mouth in soft, beguiling brushes. It bewildered her more than anything else he did could. And then she felt his tongue trace the seam of her lips in a tantalizing stroke and she lost all inhibition to the need that had been gradually building up inside her.

Feeling her response, he brought one hand over her head, fingers tangling in her neatly pinned up braids to angle her head slightly, kissing her more deeply, exploring her mouth with provocative mastery. She broke away suddenly, gasping for breath, attempting to remind herself of all the reasons how this could go wrong, of how Han Solo was the last man in the galaxy she could possibly entrust with her heart...and then his mouth descended to her neck, finding her rapidly throbbing pulse point and she gave up all caution to the winds entirely.

Her fingers sought his hair, the scruffy brown locks that had irritated and intrigued her so in equal measures; they were so soft beneath her fingers; she pulled at them roughly, attempting to bring his mouth back to hers.

"Not so fast, sweetheart," he smiled against her collarbone, and she realized he'd managed to unzip her white jacket, tucking cold hands around her waist, seeking warmth, pulling her flush against him. She felt the deliberate hard pressure of him against her, his hands catching her thighs, picking her up so she was almost face-level, her back propped up against the cold metal door. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him and her own hands crept under his jacket...under his shirt...until she met the warmth of his bare back. He shivered at the feel of her cold hands, yet instead of recoiling, the sensation only served to arouse him further, and he caught her mouth fiercely with his, kissing her without restraint. And she gave it all back, teasing him with her tongue, her hands pressing him closer, closer and yet it didn't seem close enough, the steady impassioned rhythm between their mouths was beginning to be mimicked unconsciously by her hips, creating delicious friction between them. He groaned into her mouth and she felt an intense need that had been unmatched by any amorous encounter she had ever shared with a man.

Much to her consternation and confusion, he pulled away, dropping her legs gently to the ground and pushing his head against hers, breathing heavily.

"You-you stopped," she said, her breaths as unsteady as his own.

"If I hadn't stopped now...I would never have stopped, Princess."

She struggled to find coherent thought, to find the strength to leave him, "So now that you've tested your theory, are you going?"

He smiled, tucking her into his arms, "I think I got the answer I needed. So, no, I'm staying for good, Your Worship, whether you like it or not."

"What answer?" she demanded, still a little defensively, her voice muffled slightly in his jacket.

"You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me," he answered simply.