"New Awakenings"

The Players: Jessalyn Valios, Paul Nighman

Introduction

Having come to Yavin to keep a promise, Paul has discovered far more than
he had expected.  The curious chemistry that has always seemed to be a
part of their relationship hasn't diminished with the passage of time.
Paul and Jessalyn have a candlelit dinner together, the meal cooked by
Paul, and get reacquainted with one another.  However, the more they
talk, the more it becomes apparent that they are talking around what they
are feeling.  It is decided that there is still attraction there, but
that they should wait.  For about ten minutes.  After a night of
passionate reunion, Paul awakes to find himself in Jessalyn's quarters,
disoriented, but by no means displeased.

************************************************************************

Being along the eastern wall of the ziggurat, the small room which Jessalyn
  calls home here on Yavin is bathed in morning sunlight that wafts through
  the window cut into the thick stone walls. She wakes early, habitually, just
  before the sun rises, and she sits at the small bedside table, wrapped in a
  light, comfortable robe, dispensing orders over her datapad. One of those
  orders includes a delivery made just a few minutes later: one of the kitchen
  assistants brings a breakfast tray quietly to her quarters. She thanks him,
  especially pleased that he remembered the vase of fresh roses, and places
  them beside the bed, sitting herself quietly on the bed next to Paul's
  sleeping form.

Sleeping quietly, Paul has rolled over to gather Jessalyn's abandoned pillow
  against him. His side rises and falls slowly, the shifted sheets and
  blankets exposing his tanned torso, ribs and muscles outlined slightly.
  Those new lines of strain and worry about his eyes and brow seem eased now
  .... perhaps simply due to the fact that he is asleep. Perhaps because of
  where he is. Perhaps both. His golden hair, now free of it's clasp, lays
  across the pillows in rumpled disarray, one swath curling over his cheek.

She cannot help but be moved by the sight of him, and she takes a moment to
  let her eyes trace the strong, muscular line of his torso and the golden
  brown hair tossed over the pillow. She reaches gently to brush that unruly
  curl from his cheek and chuckles to herself. "Paul...?"

At first there is no response. Then his features squinch up slightly, and
  wrapping his arm more securely about the pillow, he pulls it close to him,
  burying his face against it. "Hrrrrmmmm?" he rumbles inarticulately.

Her fingers tuck the unruly strand behind his ear, and then moves over his
  cheek caressingly, trying to coax him awake. "Hrmmm, indeed. Wake up, or
  I'll eat all the breakfast," she murmurs, bending down and kissing his
  forehead tenderly.

Rolling over onto his back, Paul smiles dreamily, his eyes flickering open
  slowly. At first he looks happy, hazel eyes warm and loving ... then
  suddenly he looks confused and disoriented, hazel eyes narrowing slightly as
  he focuses on Jessalyn's features before him. It takes a few seconds before
  comprehension dawns and blossoms, the smile curling his lips again even if
  it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "What?" he murmurs in rough husky tones,
  knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that words were spoken, but
  nothing more.

She senses something wrong about his mood, and her heart sinks quickly into
  the pit of her stomach. But she keeps her smile on her face, her fingers
  drifting up to his forehead as she clears her throat. "Hungry?"

Golden-green eyes narrow, but this time in humor. Reaching up with one hand,
  he takes hold of the fingers at his brow, pulling them to his mouth to bite
  lightly. "What a question to ask a man first thing in the morning," he
  growls playfully. "Of -course- I'm hungry." A devilish gleam suggests that
  he isn't thinking about food. His eyes drift from her eyes to admire her
  robed figure, before raising languorously back up to her face. One brow
  raises, possibly in invitation or challenge.

Jessalyn still isn't positive what to make of that first reaction he had when
  he looked at her upon waking, but his actions put her somewhat at ease and
  she smiles gently down at him, watching his lips nipping at her fingers and
  bending slightly over him so that her unclasped hair falls around her
  shoulders. "I know, silly question," she whispers.

Raising himself up on one elbow, Paul catches that hair, twisting it in the
  light appreciatively, wrapping a strand about his finger. Raising up a
  little more, he drops an affectionate kiss on Jessalyn's mouth ... not one
  to incite, but one to greet. "Morning," he purrs against her mouth before
  drawing back slightly. "What are you doing up already?" he murmurs softly,
  those eyes warming with attraction and affection.

Breathing a soft, relieved sigh as her eyes catch his, Jessalyn returns
  the light kiss, her lips also curving warmly into a smile. "I'm always up
  this early," she informs him teasingly. "Are you?"

"Not if I can help it," he returns snidely, his eyes flickering back to the
  pillows beneath him as if seriously considering plopping back onto them. He
  resists. Sitting up instead, he settles his arms on his thighs, the sheets
  and blankets dropping to his waist. The sunlight glints off the gold
  highlights of his hair as he shoves back the swath that tends to cut over
  his features. "Were you kidding? Is there really breakfast?" he murmurs,
  little-boy-hopeful.

The gentle smile turns into a smirk as she glances toward the tray on the
  table. With a light gesture of her hand, it hovers toward them and she
  grasps it on either side. "Of course, silly. Would I just taunt you?" she
  chuckles, setting it across his lap and picking up a glass of juice off of
  it. The tray is laden with a variety of fruits, cooked grains, and apple
  bread, as well as a pitcher and two glasses of juice.

Smirking at her little stunt, Paul retorts lightly, "Well, it wouldn't be the
  first time ..." His eyes peruse the offerings before choosing a thick
  skinned fruit and a slice of the bread. He takes a bite of the bread,
  settling it down and chewing while he works on peeling the green coated
  fruit. As the skin comes off in pieces, a juicy orange heart is exposed,
  conveniently in wedged sections.

Jessalyn smiles hesitantly at him and settles back onto the pillows, plucking
  off a bowl of the sweetened, cooked grains and dipping a spoon into it, her
  eyes fixed upon its contents, rather studiously ignoring him so close to her
  for now.

Frowning ever so slightly, Paul continues to peel his fruit, gazing at
the unappetizing bowl in Jessalyn's hands with a disparaging look.
Breaking free a slice, Paul leans close, pressing himself against Jessa's
side as he offers her a tempting slice of his fruit.

Her eyes light up softly in surprise, and she lifts her hand to cradle his,
  taking the slice of fruit into her mouth and chewing it even as she smiles
  and turns her head to look at him, stifling a chuckle. "Why thank you," she
  says around the mouthful, swallowing it after a moment. "You're very tasty
  this morning."

Paul brushes his thumb against the corner of her mouth, catching a small line
  of juice that manages to escape. A brow raises at -that- commentary, and
  dipping his head to bite her earlobe gently, he murmurs, "Really? I was
  about to say the same thing about you ... how about you and I get a jar of
  chocolate sauce, skip breakfast, and jump straight to dessert?"

Her lashes blink slowly, and Jessalyn lets her tongue play against his thumb
  as it draws over lips. "Mmm... you're rather insatiable, aren't you?" she
  chuckles approvingly. Feeling his mouth nip at her earlobe, she gasps as a
  shudder runs down her spine. "But I can't argue with the idea, not at all."

He should probably press ... ask her what was wrong ... what she was thinking
  about. But part of him argues, _What difference does that make now ... she's
  not upset -now-_ It isn't really the point, but it certainly makes it's
  point. "You started it," he defends, his lips brushing hers teasingly,
  refusing to give her the satisfaction of pressing further. "So ... where's
  the sauce?"

The young red-haired woman cannot keep from grinning appreciatively at all the
  lovely, evocative innuendoes going on this morning, and she decides to give
  back as good as he's giving. She slides her hand to the back of his head,
  curling there in his tangled hair before she bends down and captures his
  lips possessively, temptingly, a moan of longing coming from deep in her
  throat. Finally breaking the kiss, she smiles into his hazel eyes teasingly.
  "Well... I'm afraid chocolate sauce wasn't on the menu. But I am."

Hazel eyes darken in appreciation, and feasting on her lips, Paul savors the
  tangy flavor of fruit still on her lips and tongue. Pushing the tray aside,
  Paul drags Jessalyn backward and across his torso, his mouth releasing hers
  to compliment, "Sweet ..." He shifts his attentions to the pulse at her
  throat, testing it's pace with his tongue. "Spicy ...." Parting the front of
  her robe, Paul's mouth shifts to capture one breast. "Delicious ..."

She hadn't exactly expected this reaction, even though she was teasing,
  but Jessalyn's heart begins pounding wildly as his lips travel along her
  body and to her breast. "Well... it's not chocolate, but...." she whimpers,
  letting the robe slide off her shoulders as she rests her cheek against his
  hair, her whole body tingling from the pleasure of his mouth against her
  sensitive breast.

Shifting his attention to her other breast, Paul's hands range up to her arms,
  as if to pull the robe from her. However, as he discovers the texture of
  silk against his fingertips, he thinks better of the idea, using the slick
  fabric as another form of arousal, sliding it against the skin of her side,
  up along her rib cage, down over her belly, and back up to cover her
  abandoned breast, stroking her through the fabric, his palm rubbing circles
  over the already tenderized flesh.

Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, Jessalyn moans low in her throat,
  shifting above him so that he has easier access to her flesh, his caresses
  through the silky material arousing her more and more, especially when
  coupled with the tender attention of his mouth on her breast. Feeling the
  familiar heat rising up into her cheeks, she simply clings to his shoulders
  helplessly. "Oh... my...." she breathes inadequately.

There is a dark rumble of approval that emits from the base of Paul's throat,
  and seeing how she clearly likes his attentions so far, he continues them,
  swapping hand and mouth yet again, the silk torture applied to the opposite
  breast. That still leaves one hand free though, which trails down the smooth
  flesh of her stomach, slipping between her legs and stroking upward, testing
  the depth of her desire.

Her lashes tremble over her eyes, and Jessalyn barely manages to keep control
  of her senses, let alone her breathing, as his hands ravish her. Her thighs
  automatically open up as he slips his hand between them, and both of her
  hands bury in his hair, drawing his head toward her as his mouth plays over
  breasts, her chest heaving as she breathes more raggedly.

Delirious and drunk on her sheer helplessness, Paul continues to have his way
  with Jessalyn's responsive flesh. Lips kiss, teeth bite, and tongue laves as
  the silk falls about her heated skin like a cooling waterfall. The hand
  toying at her thighs reaches to part the tender folds, stroking up against
  her center of pleasure with questing fingers that stroke and tease.

Even as her muscles slowly tense with the heightening pleasure, she wilts
  against his form, her hands grasping his shoulders as she rubs her cheek
  against his hair. "Okay," she murmurs at length, her voice catching in her
  throat. "I think... you're definitely skipping to dessert...." Her body
  moves instinctively as his hand strokes against her intimately to find the
  heat of her arousal.

"Took you this long to figure that out?" he growls playful against her breast.
  There is a rough chuckle, dark with need and arousal. Stroking her core,
  Paul breaks away from her breast long enough to capture her mouth, his
  tongue stroking inside as his fingers do below. "Think I found the sauce
  ..." he teases mercilessly, his mouth latching onto her's again as his own
  passions and needs bubble up to the surface, his hands and mouth possessing
  her roughly now, a strangled sound of frustration slipping from his throat.

Her body throbs madly as she's possessed more wildly than she's ever been, and
  her hands roam over his chest feverishly, drawing his body closer to hers as
  her lips and tongue return the rough kisses. Hearing her heart pounding in
  her ears, she moans again, his fingers between her legs sending shivers of
  pleasure up her spine. "I think you did, too," she moans into his mouth.

Paul's need presses against Jessalyn's thigh, hard and throbbing, as he arches
  against her unconsciously. Her skin is beginning to feel like fire against his
  own, the silken robe like ice. His fingers begin to rub her center of
  pleasure, determined and driven. His other hand desperately grasps the hair
  at the nape of her neck, crushing her mouth down to his as he once again
  bucks against her.

Feeling her body pulled down toward him, Jessalyn's lips part against his, and
  her mouth responds to the plundering her heart pounding as she shifts
  against him, feeling his need and allowing her thighs to straddle his waist.
  "Paul," she moans against his lips.

As she shifts to settle herself above his more than ready flesh, Paul growls,
  reaching a point where instinct and primitive urges overcome the veneer of
  that man has placed over his baser nature. Shifting his hands to her hips,
  Paul brings her flush against himself, pinioning her as he arches up with a
  cry muffled against her mouth. His body trembles as he devours her mouth,
  whimpering hoarsely, "Jess-a ..."

She doesn't quite feel in control of her body, but not entirely because Paul's
  hands are pulling her against him so that she rides him faster and faster,
  but because a strange tingle has descended into her muscles, something other
  than herself yet part of her at the same time that gives her precise, easy,
  and graceful control of her movements. She's only vaguely aware of it, and
  the pleasure of their joining never stops swirling through her mind, but
  when he reaches his climax she's aware of it on more than one level; she
  feels his arousal, his hungry urge to fill her up, and the result makes her
  whole body shudder with ecstasy and she tilts back her head as the loud cry
  crawls unconsciously from her throat.

Shuddering violently, unaware of Jessa's otherworldly experience, Paul slowly
  begins to return to his senses. His hands still cling to Jessa's hips, her
  robe draping over them both as they gasp for breath and sanity. His mind and
  thoughts are awhirl with the aftermath of their passion and a healthy degree
  of astonishment at the riot she is able to ignite within him so readily.

Her fragrant red hair is even wilder around her face than usual, slickened
  across her flushed forehead, and her eyes are a matching set of
  incandescent, bright green emeralds as she finally lets her head tilt back
  to a somewhat normal position to look into his eyes. Her breasts still heave
  as she struggles to bring air into her lungs and her trembling hands rest
  upon his shoulders as she blinks very slowly, her body still hot and
  throbbing and surrounding him.

Paul's eyes shut, his breath drawing in sharply at the sweet
  sensations sparkling through him. Those eyes open again slowly as his
  breathing eases once again. "This is too good," he murmurs with a touch of
  suspicion, his lips curling in a seductive smile. "You -feel- too good," he
  chides her, as if this were all her fault ... but not he minds, mind you.

Jessalyn's hands rest on his tense abdomen, and she chuckles at him, the
  fingers sliding up very slowly to caress his ribs and his chest, having to
  bend slightly at the waist to do so but not even daring to move from her
  perch as he peers at her suspiciously. "Oh, dear," she murmurs as her face
  draws nearer to his. "Hmm... is there anything I can do about that?"

"Don't stop ..." he rumbles darkly, the muscles beneath her hands rippling in
  response as her fingers trail along their length. Paul sighs, shifting
  restlessly beneath her as her touch ignites already tender nerve endings. He
  isn't even sure if he was answering her question, or offering up a plea.

She swallows hard, coming closer to his lips and letting her own just barely
  graze them as her fingers trace small, intricate circles over his chest, her
  legs slowly stretching out so that they tangle around his at the foot of the
  bed where the blankets have been bunched up. "I don't think I could if I
  wanted to," she whispers feelingly against his lips, her lashes lifting so
  that she can search his eyes.

As she searches, she finds a deep and abiding affection in that gaze, a
  healthy level of desire, a trace of exhaustion, a hint of uncertainty, and
  endless depths of tenderness. With an easy hand, he cups the back of her
  head, bringing her lips to his in a slow and relaxed kiss ... not one to
  arouse, but one to soothe, pleasure, and thank. His other arm wraps about her
  waist, sliding up the length of her back to hold her softly to him.

Muscles relaxing as he draws her body against him and his mouth brings a
  certain amount of solace and pleasure to hers, Jessalyn rests her weight
  gently upon him, her head tilting to increase the ease of the slow, sensual
  kiss, a soft, contented moan throbbing in her throat.

Tracing idle patterns along her spine, Paul's mouth probes hers, patient and
  exploring, breaking only briefly now and again before delving back into her
  depths. The sun dances over their joined figures, the room glowing as if in
  reaction to their passions. Gazing up at her, Paul murmurs, "Do you have to
  go to work ... I mean, do they expect you?"

Freeing one hand so that she can smooth back the fiery hair from her face,
  Jessalyn smiles playfully and shakes her head, now letting her fingers
  stroke his hair back from his forehead. "I already gave out today's orders,"
  she replies quietly. "And told them I'm going to be occupied until I give
  further notice. Rank does have its rewards," she adds with a wink.

"So efficient and full of yourself," he quips. "No wonder they gave you a
  promotion." Winking in return, Paul finds that his hands cannot stop playing
  with her hair, the silken tresses irresistible. "Well," he murmurs, "if
  you're planning to have your way with me all day, you'll need to let me rest
  a little .... we can sleep, and then I'll ravish you in the shower, and then
  we'll take a nap ... " Generously he adds, "You can plan the rest of the
  day." His eyes flicker up to her hair, and in a wondering voice he asks,
  "Where's your brush?"

A delighted, soft chuckle leaves her lips as she listens to the plan, her eyes
  flickering slowly over his face to trace each of his features into her
  memory. Caught off guard by the question, she blinks, then smiles, reaching
  across him to the bedside table, opening a drawer, and pulling out a
  silver-handled hairbrush. "It's that bad, huh?" she murmurs, grinning at him.

"No .... not at all," he murmurs, taking the brush from her grasp and rising
  up slightly before he realizes that he's trapped. "We need to sit up," he
  realizes ... "and you need to turn around."

Jessalyn grins slowly, claiming one last kiss from his lips before she levers
  herself up and off of him, turning around on the bed so that her back is to
  him. She rolls her shoulders a couple of times and shakes her hair free,
  letting it flow just past her shoulderblades.

Sitting up behind her, Paul slides his legs along side of her's, pulling her
  hair away from the nape of her neck to feather a kiss there. Then he reaches
  up with the brush and begins to run it through her hair. At first he is very
  gentle, finding snarls and then holding her hair in one hand while he works
  them out with the brush in his other. When that task is done, he continues
  to brush through Jessalyn's hair, each stroke slow and sensuous. He often
  allows the brush the trail down past her hair, the bristles scraping lightly
  over her shoulderblades, back, and spine. Sometimes he strokes down along
  the length of her arms, and then slowly trails back up along the inside
  flesh.

Her body slowly relaxes as Paul strokes the brush through her hair, her head
  bending forward slightly as she closes her eyes, clasping her hands in her
  lap and simply savoring the feel of his fingers and the brush gliding
  through the smooth, dark red waves. "Mmmm... I feel so pampered," she
  chuckles softly, shivering as the bristles tease against her skin and
  unconsciously arching her back.

"That's the idea," he whispers against her spine, stroking her with the brush
  and fingers, tracing drawings against the smooth line of her back.
  Unbeknownst to Jessa, Paul smiles as she arches, slipping the brush to her
  arms once again. This time, however, on the way back up, he takes an
  unexpected detour, brushing the soft bristles over one nipple while laving a
  kiss at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

Jessalyn's head follows the arch of her spine by tipping slowly backwards, her
  eyes still closed and a breathy sigh leaving her lips at the teasing
  caresses. Her body gives a small start when the brush touches her nipple,
  and she chuckles breathlessly. "Mmmm... Paul...."

Chuckling warmly against her neck, Paul returns the brush to it's previously
  scheduled journey, purring with mirth, "You rang?" He returns to her red
  tresses, running his hands and the brush through it till is gleams in the
  sunlight and feels like silk in his palms.

A long, soft sigh of contentment is the only reply Jessalyn makes, and she
  bends her head forward again, feeling the brush smooth out her hair which
  fans silkily over her slender, exposed back.

Dropping one more kiss to her spine, Paul places the brush back on the bedside
  table. He draws back onto the bed, settling himself down on his side, one
  arm propping up his head so he can admire the sight before him.

Turning slowly, Jessalyn raises her brows as she sees him looking her over,
  and she looks somewhat embarrassed for the first time. For a moment she
  isn't sure if she should move to disrupt his gaze, but then she smiles and
  turns onto her stomach, wrapping both arms around one of the pillows and
  turning her head upon it to look over at him. "That was very nice," she says
  lightly, giving a luxurious shake of her hair.

"You're welcome," he replies, his lips curling in amusement at her moment of
  shyness. "You're very beautiful," he adds as his eyes trail over her
  reclined form. "I almost wish I was an artist ... then I'd draw you in the
  nude ..."

Jessalyn's lips curve with humor as well, and her soft green eyes laugh at him
  as she reaches across the space between them to caress his bearded cheek.
  "Oh, dear. Couldn't you just draw me clothed?" she teases, nestling her head
  further down into the pillow.

"I can't draw you at all," he assures her. "I don't have an artistic bone in
  my body. However, you are much more beautiful nude," he murmurs, his hand
  reaching out as well across the gap to trace the line of her shoulder to her
  back to her hip. "So long and sleek."

The small amused smile continues to curve Jessalyn's lips, and she feels her
  cheeks heating up at the compliment. She shifts closer to him so that her
  arm can drape over his waist, and buries her face against his shoulder to
  try to hide her embarrassment. "Not exactly how I picture myself," she
  chuckles quietly.

"How can someone so beautiful be so shy?" he marvels, oblivious to the fact
  that he suffers from the same affliction. Drawing her close once again,
  enfolding her in his arms and legs, Paul sighs, dropping his head to hers
  and pressing a kiss to the top of her auburn curls. "Remind me to hire an
  artist to prove my point."

Jessalyn feels more relaxed and at ease than she has in months, and she hadn't
  even realized that she was in need of it until now. It's not that she hasn't
  felt the calming presence of the Force. Certainly that has changed both her
  temperament and outlook for the better... but not even that can compare to
  being held in a lover's arms, and for a moment she is practically stunned
  with the revelation. She'd been so fearful that this would no longer be
  accessible to her, that she wouldn't want it, wouldn't respond to it, or
  wouldn't, somehow, -need- it. These thoughts whirl in her mind as she keeps
  her body curled against him, desperately trying not to tremble or let him
  see the happy tears gathering in her eyes. "I'll remember," she answers him
  absently, having already forgotten what she was agreeing to.

Ignorant of the personal revelations running through her thoughts, Paul merely
  responds to what he is offered, thinking that she is finally acquiescing to
  his judgment. He offers her a quick squeeze of approval, his eyes drifting
  shut with contentment. "I'm really glad I came," he murmurs sleepily against
  Jessalyn's hair. "You're just what I needed ...."