Star Wars: Back to Bespin

Chapter 4

A/N: I apologize about the mixup on the posting of ch. 4. I tried several times to post it but it didn't seem to show up. For your patience, I will immediately post ch. 5. Thanks so much for hanging in there and reading.

Chapter 4

Leia awoke to the unfamiliar sensation of a man's arms around her, a firm chest against her back, a hairy leg thrown over hers. His body heat could put a thermo-unit to shame, and she could feel the clamminess of her own perspiration beneath her long nightdress. His face was near her hair, his deep breathing tickling her ear. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, for Han's masculine smell was intoxicating, and she felt more secure and loved than she'd ever remembered.

She must have shifted a little, for he growled softly and tightened his grip.

"You're too hot," she whispered.

"Hmm," was his sleepy reply. "And if you don't stop wriggling I don't think I'll be able to let you out of this bed."

But after a moment, his embrace loosened and she turned over in Chewbacca's bed to face him. Immediately, his mouth found hers, and be was pressing her into the pillow, his lanky body covering hers. She felt desire flow through her as he languidly kissed her, a heavy hardness pressing into her stomach. His self-control was admirable, for when he finally pulled gently away, she was still holding him tightly against her, never wanting him to stop.

He disentangled her arms in amusement, swept the sleep tousled hair that had fallen boyishly over his forehead out of his eyes.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he said with a grin. He playfully kissed her nose, then rolled away from her to lie on his back, his rapidly rising and falling chest belying his easy manner. In truth, a night holding the princess in his arms had almost been his undoing, and he'd experienced a new level of sexual frustration.

"Sleeping here probably wasn't one of the best ideas I've ever had," said Leia, her own voice breathless.

"I told you so," said the painfully aroused man beside her.

He was quiet a moment, trying to find the words to explain himself once and for all.

"My first time with a woman was an embarrassingly awkward coupling in the jumpseat of a stolen airspeeder. The only thing that made it memorable is it was my first time, and ended with my first time in a CorSec lockup."

Her eyes widened with surprise, then crinkled with humor. She rose up on one elbow to look at him. "You've got to tell me that story."

He shook his head grimly. "Not a chance. My point is, I've been with a lot of women, and—"

"How many?" she interrupted.

His lips formed a stubborn line, and he shook his head obstinately, once.

"Oh, come on. More than five?"

One eyebrow rose in involuntary contradiction.

"Ten?" she offered, no longer finding this line of questioning so amusing.

He closed his eyes, unable to look at her.

"Twenty?" she asked dully. There was no sign of his stopping her, so she stopped asking before the number became astronomical. "You're kidding me."

"Not something I'm proud of, though ask me four years ago, and I would have been bragging about it," he said, opening his eyes again. They were light green and very serious in the dull glow of the auto-lights. "If you want to know the truth, I lost count long ago. Almost all of them were meaningless, a matter of biology or boredom. If it makes you feel any better, I haven't been with anyone since I met you."