remember when i said i wanted to write sin?
Anakin wakes to the memory of wandering hands && a familiar ache pushing against the underside of his skin. Need lashes through him, setting his senses to a fine-fever pitch that instinctively has him reaching for the comm on his bedside table.
The holo-clock at his side automatically illuminates when he shifts, sensing movement && flooding his eyes with its soft azure glow. Four am stares back at him && Anakin grimaces, dropping his hand to the smooth planes of his chest. Not even Padme’s profound patience for the rising tide of his emotions would justify him waking her up at this hour.
But the thought is enough to pull the muscles of his stomach && groin tight again. && even as his breaths lengthen, his pooled lust refuses to abate. Anakin finds himself, for once, cursing his own virility, even as the hand on his chest travels between his legs. Pressure flares along his nerve paths down the center of his body, && the knight can’t help the soft noise that escapes him when he grips his cock, hot && heavy in his biological hand.
Remembering himself, Anakin sends out a questioning probe to the surrounding Force, confirming that Obi-Wan is still asleep in the next room over before his hand begins to move.
It isn’t going to take much, the dream has left him hungry && already his biological hand slides wetly up down his length from the amount of precome that’d collected at the tip. He runs his fingers along the sensitive vein just before the head, letting out a groan that he immediately muffles with his prothesis, but not before it can ring out into the air.
Anakin freezes, fisting the base of his dick && choking at the increase in pressure. After a minute of stilled silence to once again confirm that he hadn’t woken Obi-Wan he continues, thumbing the slit in such a way that it nearly causes him to arch off the bed. Kriff. Kriff— have to be quiet. Have to be—
His strokes speed up, eliciting a real moan from the Jedi he doesn’t manage to completely stifle. He bites his bottom lip resolutely, powering through until the tension begins to settle at the base of his spine; until he can focus on little more than the motion of his hand on his shaft && the thud of his pulse in his ears.
Unable to take the onslaught of motion any longer, he comes, pleasure ripping through him as hips cant off the mattress with the force of a thrust.
Anakin lays his mechanical hand across his forehead, relishing in the cool touch of the metal as the rest of orgasm rides out in him. He has to remember to breath again after he stops shuddering.
Frowning, he can feel where his cum cools tacky on his chest, && reluctantly lifts himself out of bed to find some tissues && towels to clean himself, && the wet spot he’d left behind.
alderaanheir said: IM ROCK FUCKING HARD
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