When you finally find him he's slumped on the floor in front of a mirror, mournful green eyes staring at the charred ends of his hair sadly. There's a pair of scissors on the floor next to him, but it's obvious that he doesn't want to use them.

"It took so long to grow out," he mutters, lifting his head to catch your eyes in the mirror. "Now for wont of a little care, I'm going to have to cut it all off." That mouth that you love so dearly pulls up at one corner into a mocking smile. "I suppose it serves me right--a Jedi should not be vain. But I did like my hair."

Sinking to your knees behind him, you bury your hands into the long locks of honey-red hair. "You have every right to like your hair, Obi-Wan" you reply, fingers carding through the long locks as you lean forward to brush a kiss against the top of his head. "There's no need to cut if all off, though."

Strong hands tug you around so that you're straddling his legs before locking around your waist. "I'm the General," he responds with another wry grin. "You're telling me I should look like this?"

You take a few moments to just stare at him, head tilted to one side. His hair is a mess--singed from the explosion that had almost taken him with it. The hair that had brushed his collarbone now hung in ragged clumps that barely covered his ears on the left. The right side was less damaged, but still in bad shape. Something will have to be done--but you're loath to cut off the silky hair that you both enjoy so much.

"Do you trust me?" you ask finally, fingers landing on the scissors laying to the right of your legs. He glances down at the scissors with a wince before transferring his eyes back to you.

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" he jokes weakly, trying to force a smile. "If you mess up I'll just go back to a Padawan cut. I'm sure it will amuse Qui-Gon greatly when I see him next."

"I won't mess up," you promise. "But I should really get your hair wet first."

"If we both get in the shower, my hair will be forgotten rather quickly," Obi-Wan rumbles, green eyes glinting suddenly with desire. "I'll take my chances. Just cut it now."

Smiling you lean in to grace his lips with a soft kiss before settling back, you weight across his thighs. "Don't move your head," you instruct, fingering the charred ends on the left side of his head.

He winces when you make the first cut, but before long you're working merrily, ignoring the massaging circles his fingers are making on your hips and back. Being able to run your fingers through his hair like this is wonderful, and you spend a bit more time than strictly necessary simply touching the golden locks, loving the way they slip through your fingers.

When you finish you sit back a little farther and survey him, eyes going slightly wide at the sight before you.

He's incredible with the hair just falling past his eyes before flaring out at the back, like an untamed creature of the wild. You can feel the hitch in your breathing as those predator eyes fasten onto yours, his fingers tightening reflexively on your hips as you shift closer to him.

"Do I get to see?" he asks softly, his voice low and sultry. His lips have formed that smile--the one he always gets when he knows that you want him.

With shaky legs you crawl off of him, moving so that he can see himself in the mirror. The long fingers that have tortured you with pleasure so many times crawl slowly up to brush at the locks of hair, pushing them out of his face and behind one ear experimentally.

"Looks like I can keep it out of my face," he says absently, shaking his head softly and letting the hair fall back in front of his eyes. You can see his smile as he catches your eyes in the mirror again, this time the smile is all prowling animal. With sudden sureness you realize that he wants you--and is going to have you.

You're on your knees a few feet behind him when he turns slowly, planting both hands on the carpet as he pins you to the floor with his gaze. "It's perfect," he purrs, smile widening as you shiver visibly. "How can I ever repay you?"

You open your mouth to speak, but your mouth goes dry as he begins to stalk towards you on hands and knees, body undulating as he covers the few feet separating you. Instead of stopping when he reaches you he continues to move, pressing you back until you are arched back, only your hands digging into the floor keeping you upright.

His chest is pressed against yours, face hovering a few inches above yours. The freshly cut ends of his hair tickle your face as they fall about you in a gentle wave, blocking of your ability to see anything but him--and his glorious, hungry eyes.

"I love you," he whispers, the soft words caressing your face as you stare up at him, ability for speech robbed by the heat of his body pressing against yours.

His lips find yours, teasing them apart with slow caresses as he careful moves backwards, drawing your body upright as you follow, unwilling to lose the warmth of his skillful mouth and tongue.

"I love you too," you finally gasp when his lips leave yours. For a few moments you just stare at each other, knees and foreheads touching.

"Let me touch you," he finally says, pulling back and staring at you from under the strands of golden hair. "Let me see you--let me watch you." His hands lock around your waist, urging you to your feet.

Taking a few steps back you begin to undress, the heat in his eyes scorching you as you let your uniform fall away from your limbs. It takes little time before you're bare before him, hair falling about your breasts as you undo the utilitarian braids.

Without a word Obi-Wan rises to his feet, the predatory look back on his face. His jacket falls to the floor as he takes the first slinking step, hips swaggering hypnotically as he stalks you.

The shirt goes next, tossed back over his shoulder as he takes the second step, entire face curled into a feral grin. Without even thinking you take a step back, the heat in his eyes burning straight to your soul.

Dressed only in tight black pants he continues his prowl, moving slowly and deliberately towards you, the tip of his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. You take another faltering step back, body impacting with the wall as your hand flies down to steady you. You can only watch, trapped before his gaze as he moves towards you, finally knowing how the prey feels when trapped by the predator.

He covers the remaining distance with casual slowness before pressing into you, those maddening hips undulating against yours. His bare chest presses against yours, the slight brushing of hair rasping against your painfully sensitive nipples, causing you to arch your neck back and cry out softly.

One large hand lands on either side of your head, bracing the hard body as he lowers his face towards yours, eyes burning.

"I want to make you mine," he purrs, hips still circling lazily against yours. Trapped, you can do little but whimper in assent.

"Scream for me," he hisses, and then his mouth drops to yours.

He plunders your mouth for several moments before you gather the will to move. Fingers tangling into his hair you pull his mouth away from yours, eyes burning into his.

"No," you growl, amazed at your control, amazed at your daring. "You scream for me this time."

Before he can respond you've slid down his body, fingers attacking the clasps on his pants. In all the time you've been with this man he's never let go of his control, never let go and unleashed the man you know must be behind the calm and controlled exterior.

He moans above you as you coax his erection free, and you glance up to see his eyes slide shut, head falling back and revealing the arch of his neck.

It's nice--beautiful really--but not what you want. You've got what you want right in front of you, and you plan to savor it.

Gentle fingers dance up his length, a smile breaking out on your face as there's a low rumble from above you. You press a slow kiss to the tip, fingers digging into his hips as they jerk involuntarily forwards. Pulling back a little you stare up at him, one hand wrapping around the throbbing flesh.

"Scream for me," you repeat.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he replies, tilting his head forward to meet your eyes. They spit green fire, the desire and wanton need enough to make you shiver.

"Scream," you say again, before parting your lips to take him in.

There's a muffled groan as his hips twitch, and you can tell he's using every bit of will in his body not to simply plunge himself deep into your mouth. You use all of the skill at your disposal, stroking flesh with careful fingertips while your tongue and mouth work over the straining flesh.

Suddenly there are fingers in your hair, strong fingers that pull you back. "No more," he growls, sinking to his knees before pulling you away from the wall and lifting you to straddle his legs. His hands are on either side of your head, his face only inches from yours again. "You are mine already," he whispers, sliding his hands down over your shoulders to cup your breasts. Your head falls back, eyes sliding shut as callused thumbs draw circles around your straining nipples. "Don't--don't test my control."

"Why?" you respond, opening your eyes to meet his. Pushing yourself up you grind your hips into his, wrapping arms around his neck. "I'm sick of control. I'm sick of never knowing how I affect you--if I affect you. Just once--just once let me know."

"I'm afraid," he responds, forehead brushing against yours. "I've--I've never let go before. I'm afraid that I'll . . ." he trails off, fingers clenching into your hips.

"You'll what?" you ask softly.

Green eyes burn into yours. "Hurt you. Scare you." His voice drops to a low purr. "Claim you."

"You'd never hurt me," you whisper against his cheek, lips parting to caress his skin. "And you can't scare me." Pulling back, you wrap your legs around his waist and let your body fall back until you're on the floor, stretched out before him like a willing sacrifice. Letting your eyes slide shut, your murmur the two words softly--a command, a plea, a request . . .

"Claim me."

There's a growl above you and then the world upends. You're flat on your back, Obi-Wan above you on hands and knees. You can see his chest heaving, see the wild look in his eyes as his body trembles with the need to let go.

"Claim me," you say again, voice shaky as your body reacts.

"I already have," he responds, mouth sinking to ravish yours. You groan as his tongue drives into your mouth, slipping against yours in a ruthless attack. Teeth clash together as he tilts his head, trying to go deeper, trying to suck your very soul out of you.

You whimper when the lips lift off, hovering above yours. "You've been mine from the first minute I saw you," he growls, teeth catching your lower lip and tugging. "I've already claimed you." The mouth moves down the line of your jaw before latching on to an earlobe. "Now all I need is surrender."

"Surrender?" you gasp, body lurching as you feel the brush of his hair as he slides his face down your body. One nipple disappears into the hot suction of his mouth, teeth and tongue playing dizzily over the sensitive nub until you're sure you can't take it any more.

"Give yourself to me," he commands, teeth digging into your shoulder as he finally drops his full weight onto you. His hips grind against yours, teeth scraping along your skin as he drags his mouth down across your collarbone.

"Take me," you whimper, thrusting your hips up into his. A swift movement and he's straddling you, hands trapping yours above your head as his erection presses into your stomach. With a low growl his lips attack yours again, no giving or coaxing--taking. Teeth scrape at your lips, parting them as his tongue sweeps roughly across the roof of your mouth.

Another movement and he's standing, dragging you up with an arm tight around your waist. You have no time to question--no time for anything but an inarticulate moan as his lips claim yours again. You barely even notice when your back crashes into the wall, barely notice that a hard thigh is pressing between your legs, forcing them apart.

Your head crashes into the wall as two fingers slick into you, going directly to your center and stroking a scream out of you. No playing, tonight--no slow explorations . . . this man wants to possess you.

And he will.

The fingers are still stroking, lingering on the place that brings stars to your eyes. You can hear the harsh growling in his throat as he drops his mouth to suckle your neck, and you unleash another scream as he bites softly at the same time as his thumb slicks up over your bundle of nerves.

You try to reach down, try to get a hand around his straining flesh. The pleasure he's bringing to you is overwhelming, and more than anything you want to share it with him.

"No," he growls, catching your hand with his own. Your other hand is snatched up by invisible air and led above your head where strong fingers grasp your wrists. His teeth come up to your earlobe again, latching on. "Come for me," he growls, pulling back so that you can see his eyes--wild eyes full of crazed desire.

He keeps your arms pinned above your head, his fingers coaxing you higher and higher with slippery strokes as his mouth begins to travel the tender skin of your neck, biting and sucking with increasing urgency.

You can hear your hoarse screams as you writhe against him, begging incoherently in broken phrases for something--anything. The only response is a growl as his fingers tighten around your wrists, his mouth coming down on your pulse and sucking harshly, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.

"Now," he growls, lifting his head so that he can meet your eyes. His fingers stretch inside you, attacking /that/ spot with demanding urgency. "Now, so I can see you." His thumb brushes out again, moving in slippery circles as his fingers demand your climax.

Unable to hold it off you fling your head back, eyes sliding shut as you tremble for him, voice rising in harsh cries as your hips jerk. Long after you should have begun the slow decent you're still thrashing, his fingers holding you up, stringing you out in one of the most mind-blowing climaxes you've ever experienced.

You're a mindless heap of arms and legs when you finally descend, trembling too fiercely to stand up alone. The hard body presses into you, every muscle in his body shaking with need as he presses you down to the floor.

"I--" you begin, voice shaky. You're silenced as lips descend on yours, robbing you of thought as he begins to grind his body against yours, mouth sliding down your chin and neck as he slowly moves down your body.

Expecting him to sheathe himself in you--wanting it, even--you're shocked to feel his shoulders nudge your thighs apart, his breath suddenly fire across your sensitive skin.

"Wh--what are you doing?" you gasp out, groaning as his tongue slowly caresses your inner thigh, fingers massaging your hips.

"Taking you," he responds, voice a low rumble, as he lifts his head for a moment to meet your eyes. "Taking you in every way possible." Before you can respond--before you can even think of a response, his head drops again, tongue sneaking out to caress you.

When you had asked him to take you, you had imagined something else. Fast, frantic mating--furious, wild thrusts. Not this--not the slow unbuilding of all your defenses, not him taking you apart with teeth and tongue and fingers and lips . . .

Not him making you /his/.

Fingers clenched into your hips he brings you up slowly, torturing you with nothing but teasing licks of his skillful tongue and persistent lips. There is no time where you are going, no sense of reality. All there is his him--his warmth and his need.

His desire.

You're flying--you're falling. Every touch of his tongue against you, every sound he makes as he drives you beyond yourself, every brush of his fingers against your hips--everything combines into a tangle of sensations, each enough alone to push you over the edge . . .

And yet you hang there, trembling, crying out--fingers tangled in his hair as you beg with gasping breaths, plead with low moans and soft whimpers. You want release--need release--and still he holds you. Claiming you.

Taking you.

Finally you beg, the words tumbling over your lips as you arch your body up, promising him the world, promising him anything if he'll just take you where you need to be. Take you anywhere. Just take you.

And he does, finally, lips latching onto you as he finally gives you what he's been holding back, gives you the contact you need to plummet over the edge, falling with hoarse cries that echo throughout the room. You can hear his low growls, feel his purrs vibrate deep inside you as he continues to taste you, continues to drive you onwards.

Your back hits the floor with a soft thud, relaxing from the arch you didn't even realize you'd bent your body into. The world is a blurry haze, every nerve ending fizzling with the passion that still courses throughout your body.

You tremble as he pushes himself to hands and knees, stalking slowly up your body until his face is above yours. Wet lips glimmer slightly as he parts them, tongue sneaking out slowly to lick his bottom lip.

"Mine," he says softly, the air stirring around your face as his lowers his mouth slowly, catching your mouth in a soft kiss.

You moan slightly, eyes sliding shut. "Don't think I can . . ." you whisper softly, trying to shift your body, fighting the languor spreading out through your limbs. "Can't please you now . . . can't do it again . . ."

The lips return, more fiercely this time, and you groan as he somehow makes passion spike through you. Your arms feel like lead, but somehow you manage to lift them to tangle around his neck as he pulls back to kiss your throat. "You can please me," he rumbles. "Surrender to me . . . trust me . . ."

Letting your arms fall back to the floor you spread them out, tilting your head back and closing your eyes. "Yes," you say simply.

And then he's in you, hands locked on your hips as he pulls back to settle onto his knees, holding your body at the perfect angle. His first stroke shoots lightening through you, and you don't bother to pretend you're in control. Arms stretching up above your head you arch your body and scream, letting him hear how he affects you--letting him know that you are his.

Wanting to feel his body against yours you reach up, holding your hands out to him in a pleading gesture. Eyes glinting he leans forward, pressing his heaving chest against yours as he continues his slow, measured thrusts.

"Want you, baby," he mutters in your ear, his cheek rubbing against yours. "Want you so much . . ."

"You have me," you reply, legs tangling around his narrow hips as you arch up to meet each stroke. "You took me."

"Mine, my own one." His voice is growing harsh, his breathing shallow as his hips begin to pivot, circling against yours before pulling out to slam back in. You can feel yourself approaching the edge, feel him right behind you as his the grinding of his hips against yours becomes more desperate.

"Come for me," he pleads, lips on your cheek as he rocks into you. Tangling your hands in his hair you pull his face up, staring into his eyes.

"You come for me," you respond breathlessly, arching your hips up into his. His head falls back and you take advantage of the expanse of his neck, latching onto his frantically beating pulse and sucking as you tighten yourself around him.

He gives a hoarse cry and explodes within you, his body shaking as he continues to rock, giving you the added stimulation you need to follow him. Your cries mingle with his as he drops his mouth to yours, kissing you with passion and love and need--giving more than he takes.

You lay entwined for a long time, trembling arms and legs wrapped around each other. His face nuzzles lazily at your neck, lips brushing softly, comfortingly, against your love-bruised skin.

"I'm sorry," he finally mutters, propping himself up on his elbows to meet your eyes. "I told you--it wasn't a good idea."

"You're right," you respond, shifting with a wince and a smile. "Next time we do this, please--can we find a nice soft bed first?" Laughing softly as he blinks in surprise, you lean up carefully to brush a kiss across his lips. "Any time you want to bring me to three screaming climaxes in this short a span of time--I'm not going to complain. Just . . . like I said before . . . find us a bed first."

He returns the kiss softly, reaching up with one hand to brush a lock of hair away from your eyes. "I love you," he says softly. Smiling up into those beautiful green eyes, you chuckle.

"I love you too. And I insist on giving you all of your haircuts from now on, if this is how you'll respond."

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