Sweet Blame
By
RavenD ravendreams@earthlink.net

Archive: master_apprentice, anyone else, pls. ask
Author's web page: http://www.ravenswing.com/ravendreams/
Category: PWP
Rating: NC17
Warnings: none
Pairing: Q/O
Spoilers: none
Summary: Two Jedi and a bowl of honey. 'Nuff said?
Feedback: Waited for with bated breath.
Disclaimers: I have some honey in the kitchen. Lucas owns everything
else.



I blame it on him.  He sat there, bare-chested and footed, freshly
showered, eating the melon, slowly dipping it in a bowl of thick,
golden honey. One piece after another, his tongue flicking out to
capture the fruit off the fork,  cradling sweet drops in its curve.

"Would you like a bite, Master?" his voice flowed across the table
to me, sticky, almost cloying, like the single drop of honey caught
in the corner of his mouth.  I could taste that mocking voice, and he
knew it.  I could see his surety, his belief in his false safety.  He
believed my control would never allow me took take that which he
so carelessly offered.

What he did not understand was the depth of my hunger.

That single drop called to me, glowing in the gentle light soaking
through the room.  I went, pulled, needing to taste the sweetness on
his flesh.  With the quirk of his lips, my resistance snapped like a
wire pulled between two irresistible forces.

His eyes flashed once, quickly as I left my chair, watching as I bent
towards those lips.  The honey was sweet, sweeter than his mouth,
which held darker notes, reflections of the man I now held in my arms.
His tongue was soft against mine and when he moaned, that first time, my

remaining reasons for restraint, for patience, for self-denial were
washed
away.  I needed to lick, to taste, to feed on his body and to be fed
upon in
return.

As our mouths learned one another, my hands mapped this oft-studied,
but newly discovered body.  His stomach muscles rippled underneath my
hand, his entire body undulating, seducing.  I traced the shape of his
hardness
through his pants, first gently, then with a more definitive pressure.
His moans,
or were they mine, filled the air around us as we slipped to the floor.

I discovered the hollow of his throat tasted slightly of soap, that his
skin
warmed easily to my touch and marked quite deeply to the touch of teeth.

His hair tickled soft against my cheek, his eyes glowed, indescribably
mutable.
His hands did not fumble with my clothes, as I thought they might.  When
his
lips caressed my nipples, my navel, my hips, I discovered he was not as
innocent as he tried to appear.

I grabbed him up, not willing to relinquish control.  After all, he had
offered himself up to me, had he not?  Capturing up his mouth again, I
removed his pants, smoothing my hands against his warm thighs and
calves.
With a gentle push, I deposited my tempter on the floor, cradled by my
tunics.

He was breathtaking, lying there, muscles tensed with desire, cock hard
and
weeping, for me.  I had to pinch my lip hard between my teeth, so not
bend
over and take him as he was, to slip inside him, mark him as mine.  I
wanted
him to know, though, that there was a price to be paid for teasing a
Jedi Master.

Reaching up, I pulled down the bowl of honey.  His eyes narrowed,
focusing
on the clay dish in my hand, "Master..."

"Padawan."  I waited until his eyes met mine, questioning.  "You asked
me..."
I dipped my fingers in the bowl, covering them with the thick liquid.

I circled his darkened nipples, feeling my fingers drag, moving the
flesh, teasing.
He arched into my touch, graceful, powerful.  His eyes darkened.

"...if I wanted..."

A quick lick to a nipple, a not-quite gentle bite to another and then I
gathered
up more of the golden syrup, feeling it warm in my hand.

"...a bite, and..."

I let the honey drip from my fingers, leaving a trail of tiny droplets
down his
stomach.  His moans filled the air, coloring it with our desire.
"Please, Master...
Qui-Gon..."

"...my answer is..."

I spread the remaining honey over his erection, mixing his taste with
the sweetness
as I nipped the hot flesh of his hips, his thigh.

"...yes."  I whispered this against the weeping head as I enveloped him,
sucking
hard.

He tasted so sweet, felt so perfect in my mouth.  His hips moved,
jerking into my
restraining hands. His musk surrounded me, As he quickened, I slowed,
keeping
him on the edge.  When his cries lessened, I swallowed him again,
feeling the wiry
hair of his groin against my cheek.  I was devouring this man, the man I
love.  The
man who loves me.

I heard him cry out my name, combined with pleas and words of love.
Then he
thrust, deeply once, twice.  His seed was warm and salty and I drank of
him hungrily,
not stopping until he was clean and soft, slipping from my lips..

I licked my way back up his body, gathering errant drops of honey on my
way.  He
was boneless, regaining his breath.  His lips were soft and warm as I
shared the taste
of Obi-Wan and honey with him.  We kissed for an eternity before he
wrapped his
hand around my hardness, before I felt his warm tongue against me,
before I let him
take me, thrusting into me slow and deep.

As we lie here on my bed, warm and satiated, my beloved Padawan curled
around my
body sleeping, I feel no regret.

After all, I blame it on him.