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A Fall From Above	By : Poem Category: +G through L > Knights of the Old Republic Views: 25239 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, or any of it's characters. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
So, my computer crashed, and I lost all the work I had done on this chapter . . . really killed my muse. But I've got it back now, so hopefully this makes up for it? Don't worry, I'll have the next chapter up quick. I would hate to leave y'all on another cliff hanger ;]
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“Onasi, god, please.”
Rinna's voice was near hysterics now, the bed creaking as she writhed violently against it, rocking and twisting as she searched for something, anything, that might ease the aching in her loins. He could hear the whines, the gasps, the begging she fit between the two as she struggled to sate the lust burning in her gut. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't blot it out.
“I should have thrown her in the refresher,” he thought in frustration, as he shifted again, trying to find a comfortable spot on the hard floor. “At least then she would have been free to help herself.”
He had considered it, in the half second he had to think before the smuggler had tried to climb her way up his shaft. It was probably the better bet. The window was too tiny for her to escape through, and he doubted there was anything in there she might hurt herself with. But the pilot had seen too many people do stupid things on Rokna Blue to simply leave her to her own devices. The chances that she might do something irreparable were simply too high for his liking. And yet...
“Carth!”
Lightening shot through his groin at the sound of his name. It was the third time she had used it now, the third time he'd heard it through a filter of desire, of guttural lust. And his reaction to it was just as strong as before, bring his cock to sharp attention, making him want nothing more than to appease her. The first time, he'd been drained enough to resist. The image of her looking up at him with pleading eyes as she touched herself would have been more than enough if he hadn't just came, but with his name on her lips, it had been more than difficult to hold her back.
The second time had been the hardest. She sat at her knees before him, her fingers stroking herself greedily as she gazed up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to finish what she'd started. The realization of what had just happened, what he had let happen, washed over him then, and he snapped to his feet, yanking his pants back into place and ripping the remnants of the tattered shirt from his body. Shame washed through him, dark and choking, and he struggled for a moment not to bolt, and leave her where she was.
But Rokna Blue was not something to take lightly. He didn't know how much the bastard had given her, and he doubted she'd ever tried it before. He had no idea of her limits, of what was too much for her, and what she might do on the euphoria-inducing drug. Some people had been known to jump from buildings thinking they could fly, or opening grizzly wounds about themselves as they realized that even pain had taken a strange cast. He couldn't leave her to her own devices. He couldn't let her do as please.
He had to restrain her, he realized then. He couldn't leave the chance that she might get away from him, or even coerce him into another compromising situation. His dark eyes flashed around the room, looking for something, anything that might help him. They locked on the bed, and the ornamental bars that graced the headrest. Perfect.
In one fluid motion, the pilot had scooped the young woman into his arms, taken two long strides, and deposited her on the bed, trying to let her touch him as little as possible. It was hard, her hands roaming out to grasp at anything she could reach, the whining still evident in her voice as she made those quiet little moans. When he yanked the belt from its loop, she arched up towards him, letting the moan grow louder as she locked her eyes on his.
He hesitated then for the briefest moment. The bed was shoved into the corner, meaning to tie her hands to the headrest, he either had to stand with his groin in reach of her hungry mouth, or straddle her and tie them from there. Neither option was very appealing. But when she rolled towards him, her hands reaching out grasp at his buckle, he knew he had no choice.
With one hard shove to the ground, Carth had vaulted himself atop of her, one hand catching her wrists while the other worked quickly to wrap the belt around them. She groaned underneath him, giving him her hands willingly, her hips rolling languidly as she tossed her head back. When he had them securely tied, he leaned down to catch the bars, slinging the other end of the belt through them as swiftly as his shaking hands would allow.
Rinna had arched up against him then, a low moan on her lips as she pressed her breasts against his chest, and tossed her head to the side. Her dark eyes slid shut and she sighed, a sound so satisfied, so satiated, that Carth felt a touch of regret that he wasn't going to give her what she wanted.
“Carth,” she whispered, the name said with such a pleasure, such a wanton desire, it sound more a cry than a name. He felt his knees try to buckle then, his legs suddenly shaking to hold his weight, and his chest tightened to mirror his cock. He'd never heard his name said with such a reverent pleasure. Love, he'd heard. Respect. Lust, even. But not like this. Nothing like this.
It had taken every ounce of willpower left to him to tie her tight, and leave her there. His legs were jelly, too weak to move himself further than a few feet down, where he sank and sat, his back pressed against the foot of his bed.
He hadn't been able to move since. He could hear her all to well from where he was, the shrill sound of her voice as she twisted her legs up, trying to find something, anything that would take the edge off her lust. It was almost too much to bear. But his legs wouldn't hold him, and the pain lancing its way through his groin was holding him as much a prisoner as she was. How long had it been now? An hour? More, less? It was impossible to know. Every second was torturous as he listened to her pleas, her cries, her desperate begging as she struggled on the bed. And his cock had responded to it all, straining against the restraints of his clothing, trying to reach the thing that wanted it so badly. It was the worst kind of torture.
The sound of silence surprised him, his head twisting sharply to look towards it. It wasn't completely silent, little gasps and moans still finding their way out of her lips. But she was laying mostly still, her chest heaving but the bed no longer creaking.
Carth's joints protested loudly as he shifted from his frozen position, trying to see her better. Had the drug started to ware off? It was always hard to tell with the Blue. It might last an hour or four, depending on the person, and the line it came from. It affected each person different, and it was always impossible to tell exactly what would happen when one was under the influence. He'd heard of cases like hers, the insatiable lust, but he had never expected it would be this bad. “Let it be over,” he thought as he struggled up to his knees. “For her sake and mine.”
The sight of her dark blue eyes, open and fixed on him, surprised him, and he froze where he was, looking at her apprehensively. Her pupils were still wide, and the telltale blue veins still streaked across the surface. But she didn't seem as wild as before. The laughter was gone, as were most of the moans, and he could barely see the whites the way they were shuttered. Half of the symptoms seemed to have disappeared. Was that good or not?
“Carth.”
The republic pilot couldn't help but respond to the name once more, his muscles tightening and his jaw setting. But it wasn't so bad as before. Her voice seemed steady, even. There was a throatiness to it, but she had been screaming for however long. He opened his mouth, trying to find a way to ask her how she was, but he couldn't find his voice. It felt so wrong to speak to her after ignoring her for so long.
“Carth . . . I need . . .” Her voice came out in ragged breaths, shakier at the end, and he could see the way she was struggling, her top teeth burying themselves in her bottom lip as she paused. He couldn't tell exactly how coherent she was, but obviously enough to control herself. Which was good. She'd probably be back to normal here soon enough, if he was lucky.
“I need . . . to . . . I . . .” She took a deep breath, swallowed, and then threw her head back, a small sound of frustration making its way out of her throat. “Could you . . . untie my hands?”
He must have made a face at that, because she shook her head quickly.
“Just one, you don't have to . . . do both . . . I just,” She looked down at him, her brows coming together in a pleading way. “Please, I just . . . I need it . . .”
Carth opened his mouth, and then closed it almost as quickly. He could feel a burning starting up in his face, and he looked away, trying to find an answer. She sounded in control, to a point. The mindless pleading was gone, as was the thrashing and writhing. She sounded steady, even as her voice shook. Maybe . . .
“Please, I won't . . . move off the bed . . . or . . . try anything . . . I just . . . god.” She arched slowly, pulling at the belt about her wrists, coiling and uncoiling like a cat. “I can't . . . stand it.”
The man's cock pulsed in sympathy at that, and he grit his teeth in frustration. She might not be in control enough for that. What if she lost it again? What if she untied herself and came after him, or worse, escaped the room and did something stupid? He couldn't risk that. He should leave her tied, let the rest of the drug work its way out of her system, detox her, and make her sleep before he ever touched that belt. And yet . . .
If her incoherent pleas had been hard to withstand, this was impossible. How could he say no to her when she seemed so sane? What if she was in control, and he denied her? He was putting her through unnecessary torture. He should. She could take it, god knows, if she made it through all that, she could make it through the rest of it. But the pain in his own groin told him it was unfair to make her sit through anything more.
“Onasi, please, just one hand. I . . . swear . . . I won't do anything. Please, Onasi, please . . . “
It took more effort than he had expected to bring himself up off his knees. His body protested, his weak muscles shaking, threatening to drop him. “I can't walk like this,” he realized. He paused, examining the situation for a moment. He could crawl to her. But he couldn't reach the belt on his knees. And he might not be able to hold himself up enough to lean over her. The other option taunted him, and he closed his eyes, trying to shut it out. It was the best choice here, but, god, he didn't want to.
With a huff of resignation, the pilot pulled himself up onto the bed, his knees straddling her legs, pinning her where she lay. The smuggler woman arched ever so slightly, a moaning catching on her lips, before she forced herself still, the force of the action making her shake. Carth looked up to find her eyes closed, her brow furrowed, concentration in every line of her face. She was fighting it, at least. That was a good sign, a sign he wasn't doing something incredibly stupid.
Carth shifted, moving to his hands and knees, and crawled carefuly up towards her prone form. She remained frozen as he went, her eyes shut tight, and her lips pursed in some silent battle. When he was even with her, his face above hers, she turned away sharply, opening her mouth to let in short, gasping breaths. He could feel her still shaking as he reached forward towards the headboard, the position bringing him lower, closer to her. She jerked again, throwing her head to the other side, then straight up, baring her neck to him. A whining was coming from her throat, and her legs had started to twist and writhe. Whatever strength she had had appeared to be failing.
Carth paused then, glancing down at her. She was breathing in short, ragged gasps, her eyes shut so tight she looked to be in pain. His eyes darted towards the headboard, too far away to reach without leaning on his elbow, basically laying himself flat against her. “Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.”
He had just started to pull away when she cried out.
“Please!” She nearly screamed, the end turning in a sound wrenchingly close to a sob. He paused only another moment, before leaning down to rest on his elbow, as his other hand fumbled with the belt. She twisted her head to the side again, rubbing it against his collar bone as she went, as he struggled to release her. The belt was half way done when she started shaking her head.
“Stop,” she said, her voice shaking so bad he could barely understand it. “Stop, I can't . . . I . . . can't . . .” She was struggling to breathe, each time coming in a little gasp as spoke. “I . . . can't . . . stop, I . . . want you . . . I . . .” He could feel a sharp coiling in his gut as she spoke, his aching cock pulsing even as his chest tightened in pain. “I can't stop.” She was worried about him? That she wouldn't be able to stop from . . . jumping him? It seemed impossible she would be able to think about anything other than sating herself at this point. Hell, he was half mad already, and he was only suffering a fraction of what she was. Was it pride or concern that was bothering her? He couldn't tell. Whichever it was, it was much stronger than he had ever expected. If the roles were reversed . . . well, they had already seen how that had gone.
Carth sat up, looking down at her with a critical eye. She still had hers closed, the sharp gasps still rattled her throat. He could feel the way she was struggling against the urge to writhe beneath him, the shaking that was moving through her. She was going to go insane from this. She needed release, or she needed to sleep. And since the latter didn't seem very likley . . .
She was strained to her limit by this point, her body going through so much stress that the moment it was relieved, she would probably pass out. She just needed to get rid of the stress. Which meant . . . she needed to get off. He could do that, couldn't he? She wouldn't need much by this point. She was drawn so taught one quick strum would probably send her over the edge. And with that release, she might sleep through the rest.
One time. That's all she needed. That really wasn't asking much, was it? It wasn't like he needed to do anything beyond that. It wasn't anything beyond that, anyway. It was to help her get through the drug. That was clinical enough, right?
With a shaky breath, Carth leaned back down, shifting to nestle one knee between her writhing legs. She wrapped them around it hungrily, the thick muscles squeezing him mercilessly as she rocked her hips desperately towards him. But when he lay his face between her shoulder and neck, they fell away, giving him access to what he needed.
She fell apart the moment his leg brushed against her.
Her scream filled his ears as she rocked furiously against him, grinding sharply over and over and over again as her orgasm shook her. He could do nothing more than hold on as she came, holding her steady beneath him, trying desperately not to move as her hip brushed against his own aching shaft each time she ground. It was agonizing, just soft enough not to trigger his own oblivion, as she rode through hers.
He was afraid to move, even as she came down from her high. Her hips seemed loathed to stop their motion, slowing to an even grind as she gasped in his ear, and the hand at his head twined in his hair, holding him in place. He took a deep shuddering breath, fighting himself as her other hand twisted languidly up his back, grazing along his bare skin before dragging sharp nails lazily back down. He had gotten her down from the insanity, now he had to keep himself from reaching it.
Something tugged at the edges of his thoughts as he struggled to push the pent up lust back down. He hadn't expected her release, even as quick as it was, to have such an effect on him. He needed to get off her, now, before he did something stupid. And her hands, twining in his hair, and raking down his back, were not helping.
Her hands.
“Shit.”
Carth bolted up, yanking his head up to look at the headboard, where the belt laid empty and limp. It must have been too loose once he started to unhook it. Brown eyes darted down to meet hers, and his stomach dropped at the sight of the black, blue-streaked orbs, staring up at him with a stoned kind of happiness. Her hands turned firm behind him, dragging him down against her as he nestled her face in his neck.
“Rinna,” he said slowly, his gut tensed as he prayed she was as lucid as she had seemed.
A sigh rattled out of her chest, happy, content, a sigh of satisfaction, that turned slowly into a low moan as she tucked her face closer against him.
“God, yes,” she murmured, snaking her hands up to clutch his head to her and murmur something incoherent against him. Her hips, still rocking against him, pressed more insistently against his leg, and she moaned louder into his throat. “God, Carth, yes.”
She pulled back then, one hand gripping his thick hair and dragging him up, just enough to face her. Then she brought it crushing back down in a firm kiss. Her lips were steady, slow, sure, catching and holding him there as she moaned into him. The feverish pitch she had attacked him with before had ebbed, turning to this slow build that caught him with more surety than the frenzy had ever come close to. It wasn't what he had expected, wasn't what he had prepared for, and he had no way of escaping it.
When she opened her mouth, beckoning him in once more, he came without hesitation, twining his tongue with hers in a mindless motion, his body taking control from his mind. When she wrapped her lips around him and pulled him in, he couldn't help but shudder, his shaft pulsing sharply at the thought of those lips around it once more. He couldn't think, couldn't control his actions, couldn't contain the lust that had been building so steadily since she had stumbled in the door. He was almost as bad as she was at this point.
She released him after a time, throwing her head back as she ground against him with more insistence, her breath coming short and quick. Carth let his head fall to her shoulder, his breath a mirror of hers as he struggled to get a hold of himself. He needed to move, now, if he was going to move at all. But his muscles wouldn't listen to him. His body wanted the release her mouth was suggesting, and he could not will himself to move.
“I'm s-sorry.” Her voice was barely audible, whispered into his ear as she struggled to catch her breath. “I . . . need . . . m-more, I . . . need . . . something . . .your fingers . . . tongue . . . your, ah . . . your . . I need . . .” She buried her face into his neck once more, before throwing it back as she rubbed against him. “I . . . need . . . please”
He couldn't say no. Not here. He had struggled to deny her when he sat on the floor, pretending to ignore her, not touching her, not feeling her against him, hearing her whisper in his ear. This was too much to deny. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a part of him was reasoning she needed it for sleep, to get rid of the drug. It was what that part told itself, to make it okay.
The rest of him didn't care.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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A Fall From Above