Star Wars: Dark Angel, Dangerous Games

"Not likely. Too easy, and not very satisfying. Xizor's enemies merely disappear. Many of them are sold to the Kessel spice mines or the Corporate Sector as slaves." Pause. "Black Sun's influence spans across the galaxy, and Xizor has almost as many agents as I have. You must understand that, despite my position and resources, there is the distinct possibility that I would never find you again. And then there is the Emperor—"

"I get it." Again, a hollow chuckle. "Then it seems I really don't have a choice, do I?"

Vader turned away from the window and stepped down to the foot of her bed, where he adjusted his cape and sat down. The labored breathing of his mask only seemed to make the moment between them that much heavier. "I know you are not...her," he finally said, quietly. "You are something...very different."

"Yes, I know. Padme was your queen. I'm your property."

"Lylla," he sighed with a hint of exasperation, "you must understand what is at stake here. What I said back at the palace was true—everything you do, everything you say, even your beliefs are all a reflection of me. It would only take one error in judgment on your part to undermine my status. It is vital that, in public life, you conduct yourself in a manner conducive to your new position."

"So the way you choose to make your point is to trick and humiliate me?"

"It was necessary. I had to know that you could manage the intricacies of court life without constant guidance from me—"

"You mean you had to know if I could stay faithful."

"Yes," he snapped before regaining his composure. "But I can assure you, I did not orchestrate any of this. I merely took advantage of a situation."

Lylla frowned. "What do you mean?"

"This was the Emperor's doing, not mine," he told her. "He incorporated Xizor into his plan, for which I'm sure he more than eagerly complied." He turned his mask to face her. "I warned you the Emperor would use you against me. It was his intention to show you unworthy of my favor, to humiliate me and expose you as a common whore. I...we proved him wrong."

She smiled a bit, but then her face clouded. "He'll retaliate, won't he?"

"Undoubtedly, which is another reason I want you to come on this mission. You will be safe with me."

Safe with me. Words never spoken to her before, they caused her stomach to flutter. But Lylla wasn't about to give in yet. "And what am I to do for the next year on your ship? Take up needlepoint while I wait for you to call me to your bed?"

"Hardly. You will be the Chief Inquisitor of the Executor."

Her brows went up in surprise, but she remained cool. "I see."

"And my personal linguist."

"Linguist?" she asked. "You know more languages than I do."

"And I will have no time to master any others. That will be your responsibility. I have also decided to grant you the title of Baroness."

That did it. Her indifference disintegrated as she sprang upright in her bed. "What!?"

"It is an honorary title in the aristocratic elite, and holds no real power within the hierarchy," Vader stated in an even tone. "However, seeing as you are now—"

"Why do you want to make me a Baroness?" Lylla asked, her tone sharp as a blade.

Vader raised a brow under his mask. "This is not agreeable to you? I don't give out titles everyday."

"You didn't answer my question. Why do you want to make me a Baroness?"

"It is only fitting that my mistress be titled," he replied.

"No!" she snapped. "That is not the reason." She flung the covers aside and bounded off the bed, falling on her knees before him. She clenched her slender hands in frustration, and her white eyes pierced into the lenses of his mask. "First you threaten to kill me, then you threaten to send me back into slavery, and now you want to make me a Baroness! I don't know where I stand with you from one minute to the next! Why do you want to make me your Chief Inquisitor? Why do you want me as your personal translator?" She grit her teeth. "Why do you want me on your ship at all, Vader? And do not say it's for my protection. Tell me the reason! The REAL reason." Her voice cracked into a forced whisper. "Please. I need to hear you say it."

She obviously couldn't see his face, but when his body tensed and he turned his mask away, Lylla knew at that moment she had just asked him for the impossible. He abruptly rose and stalked away from her, planting himself in front of the balcony doors with his back to her. Lylla sat back on her feet, and her shoulders slumped. Tears formed in her eyes, but she would not let them drop. Even as hopelessness knotted her gut, she felt strangely numb. A small, defeated smile tugged her lip. She would have power and privilege, she would never want for anything. And she would have his lust, his desire, and her place in his bed. She would just never have...well, did she truly believe that a whore such as herself would ever be entitled to such a thing...

"You have asked me for only two things since I met you," he suddenly said, jolting Lylla from her thoughts. "What were they?"

Lylla blinked. "What?"

"What were they?" he repeated.

"My dress for this evening."

"And?"

"And...what I just asked you now."

"Did you ask me for any of this?"

She frowned. "I don't understand."

Vader glanced around him. "These apartments, your position, your servant, your new title. When you came to me on the Death Star, did you expect compensation for your...services?"

"No," she answered, then sighed. "Well, yes. I...I was hoping for a little money." She swallowed her shame down hard. "So I could buy my freedom."

"You didn't even ask me for your release. You intended to earn it yourself." He paused. "You have these things because I wanted you to have them, Lylla. So I will not have you thinking of yourself as my whore any longer. You did what you had to in your past to ensure your own survival. If you want to see a true whore, look at Xizor." He smiled a bit under his mask when Lylla chuckled, but his tone became serious again. "You want to know why I want you to come with me. Very well, I will tell you." The words came softly, and with some difficulty. "I want you to come with me because...If I ever lost you, the fury I would unleash upon this galaxy would incinerate every living thing into ash." He finally turned to face her. "I swore to the Dark Side all those years ago, as I lay there on that soot of Mustafar and witnessed my own flesh peel from my body, that if I survived it, I would NEVER lose anyone again. And I never will."

With her white eyes huge and her lips agape with astonishment, Lylla suddenly jumped to her feet and rushed to fall at his, throwing her arms around his legs and burying her face into his leather-clad thigh. Vader reached down and softly touched her hair before moving his hand to her arm, gently aiding her to her feet. He cradled her face as he brushed her tears away. "You have given me a reason to go on with my plans, Lylla. And when I bring them to fruition, your place will be at my side."

She opened her eyes. "What plans?" she asked breathlessly.

Subtle amusement laced his tone. "Do you really expect me to believe that what you said to Xizor was a complete fabrication?" He chuckled as he watched her expression change. "I was there when you said it, Lylla...and your ambition blazed around you like a solar flare." He tipped her chin up with his fingertip. "Why do I want to make you a Baroness? Because that title will bring you just that much closer to your deepest desire."

She looked at him quizzically, unsure what he meant, until understanding slowly illuminated her white eyes. "You mean that?"

"I do."

Even through the tears, Lylla's ambition reared its head like a krayt dragon, and that hungry smile that always inflamed his loins spread across her sharp features. "When?"

"Patience," he soothed. "When the time is right." He returned her gaze for a moment before his eyes drifted down her body. Although she was undeniably ravishing at the ball, the way she was now, nude and fresh before him, made his groin tighten. He reached for her face and ran his thumb over her lips, then let his hand slowly travel down her shoulder toward her breast. She moaned when he squeezed his hand around the firm circle of flesh. "Now I have something to ask you."

She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Anything, my dearest Lord."

"Did you want Xizor?"

A flash of panic coursed through her as she pulled back. "I thought we already discussed this—"

"I'm not angry, Lylla." He ran his hands over her shoulders. "Just ...envious."

"Nothing happened, Vader, I swear—"

"That's not what I meant." He looked at his gloved prosthetic hand. "I'm envious because...I'll never know the feel of your skin under my touch. And Xizor does." Lylla tried to turn away, but Vader caught her chin and gently turned her back. "Do you miss having a whole man, Lylla?"

"No."

"Don't lie."

She met his eyes. "No," she repeated, firmly and truthfully. "Yes, Xizor is handsome, I'll grant him that. And a very smooth operator. But it was a trick. It wasn't real."

"Still, the feel of his smooth hands on your flesh," he palmed her breast again, "a warm body pressed against you. You must have found it... pleasurable." Lylla opened her mouth to deny, but then stopped, averting her gaze to the floor. "I thought as much."

She lifted her intense white eyes back to his mask. In the filtered light, they almost glowed. "When you held that blade to my throat," she whispered, "I was ready to die for you." She grasped his robes and pulled herself closer. "Do you really think it matters?"

Vader lightly smoothed his leather-wrapped fingers up her neck, letting her quiver at his touch, before he fisted a handful of her hair and yanked back. Lylla gasped, but not in pain or fear. Rather, a sensuous smile crossed her lips. His hand slid down her back to clamp the cheek of her buttocks. Gods, how she craved to feel his broad body on top of her, his cock deep inside of her. "Take me to bed, Vader."

"I can't." he said, his voice hoarse with lust and frustration. "I can't take this armor off here."

She slid her hand to his groin and slipped a finger between the fasteners of his codpiece. "Not even this?" she purred.

He considered the question. "We've never tried."

Her smile grew even wider. She sank to her knees and undid his codpiece, never taking her eyes from his. Peeling it away, she nuzzled against his growing erection, reveling in the scent of leather and manliness. She teased the underside of his cock with her tongue before capturing the head with her lips. Curling her hands around the hard shaft, she moved them up and down in a primal rhythm in perfect sync with her practiced mouth, taking him deeper in her throat with every suck.

The growl that came through his vocoder was that of a roused lion. He attempted to crane his head back to thoroughly enjoy the sensation, but his helm and gorget limited his movement. He threaded his fingers into her hair, but found the gesture clumsy through his leather gloves. It was then the image of Xizor dancing with her in garden emerged in his mind. The way he ran his damned perfect hands over his woman's shoulders and back, the way he held her in his smooth arms, the way he moved his body, free of scars and agony and limits, and how he completely took all of it for granted...

Vader grabbed Lylla's arms and jerked her up and against him. She winced as the hard controls of his breastplate dug into her breasts. He spun her around and pinned her to the heavy glassine door. Clamping his hands around her thighs, he lifted her off the floor, forced her long legs around his waist, and impaled her with one thrust.

The gasp she sucked in was hard and pained. Vader crushed her even harder against the door. Effortlessly holding her by her firm ass, he moved her up and down on his swollen shaft. She fought to breathe between cries and grunts; He was so huge and so hard inside of her, she feared he would split her in two as he slammed her against the glassine. His breather roared like thunder in her ear. Her Lord had always been an aggressive, passionate lover, but he had never taken her so brutally, so possessively before. His ferocity frightened her a little, but aroused her even more. She then realized that anyone speeding by could look and see Darth Vader, in full cloak and armor, fucking his naked mistress against the window. His guards may even be watching. The very idea made her wetter.

"You are MINE, Lylla," he hissed into her ear. "Your name will be feared throughout this galaxy, as is mine. But NEVER forget who your TRUE master is."

"Never," she moaned. She threw her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him even deeper into her, and bucking wildly. "I swear it, my Lord!"

He slipped a hand from her buttocks to grab the back of her neck. "Who do you belong to?"

"You," she whimpered.

He thrusted. "Again."

"You."

Thrust. "SAY IT."

"You, my lord, I belong to YOU!"

"Show me!" He savagely pistoned into her. "Come for me. NOW."

His cock battered the delicate ridge of ecstasy buried deep within her. She flung her head against the glass and arched her back, submitting to his fervent drives, her groans escalating into howling cries. She felt the power surge from her core, pulsing through her entire frame, her sex stretched so wide by his impossible girth ... until the explosion tore through her and she erupted into a scream so primal and brutal that it shook the glassine doors. Juices burst from her sex, drenching her thighs and soaking the Vader's leather-clad legs.

A depraved smile twisted Vader's lips under his mask. He had no intention of yielding—he kept her there, pounding into her, trapping her in her violent orgasm and demanding more. But that smile soon faded as he realized that the armor could not provide him the same stamina as his hyperbaric chamber. His breather could not pump enough oxygen into his lungs to relieve the exertion he forced upon himself. He felt trapped, and was beginning to tire.

Deep-seeded disgust proved almost too much for him to bear. To hell with this blasted armor, this maddening weakness! He couldn't even savor the feel of a woman underneath his hands, or taste her sweetness, or even smell her scent! What was the point of possessing her if he couldn't EXPERIENCE her!

Suddenly, an idea broke through his frustration. He slowed his frantic rhythm, allowing himself and Lylla a desperate rest. He rolled the thought through his mind: It was only something he'd done with prisoners to extract information during torture, his last subject that insufferable Princess of Alderaan. And it was what his Master had used on him for his punishment after the Death Star's destruction. He had never tried it on a willing participant, and certainly never for the sake of pleasure...He regarded his bewitching mistress, felt her quivering around his shaft and whimpering, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her pale skin. "Lylla," he rasped, "do you trust me?"

She whispered through labored breaths, "Yes, of course I do."

Still holding her against the window with his weight, he ran a finger through her cropped locks before he gently cupped her head and murmured, "This will hurt."

A blade of blackness stabbed into Lylla's brain, and her screams pealed off the vaulted ceiling. She struggled, but Vader held her firm. "Don't fight me, Lylla," he instructed, his voice strained. "Open yourself to me, like all the times before. It will be over soon."

She forced air into her lungs while trapping her screams into her throat. The blackness snaked through her mind, wrapping around her senses and through her intellect. But just as the pain threatened to shred her mind apart, it disappeared completely, replaced by nothing less than utter bliss. The darkness coiled and twined down her spine until they emerged from her like two black wings that lifted her out of her body. Lylla gasped as she was flung from reality, careening into a forever night. A sound filled her head, so sweet and sensual that she feared she would go mad from its beauty. She opened her eyes, and they were there, the shadowy ones, the dark angels who always seemed to be there for her, calling her with their hymn, their slim arms beckoning her, to wrap her into their wings and stay with her, forever...

She felt a hand grasp hers. A voice penetrated their siren song, a voice young, and yet familiar. "No, Lylla," the voice said, "You will not heed the Sithalim's call this night." The young voice dropped into a growl. "Tonight, you are mine."

Again, she felt herself held against a wall. Muscled arms holding her, his hardness still filling her...but a new scent filled her head. Deep, warm, of desert wind. A body, lean and strong, pressed into her. Her lips were taken by a kiss that began almost chastely, but then deepened with raw desire. As she ran her hands over his shoulders and back, she suddenly realized that the suppleness beneath her palms and between her thighs was not leather, but flesh.

The kiss was reluctantly broken, and her lover pulled back to stare into her eyes. Wherever they were, the light was dim, and she could not focus at first. But, gradually, the faint light painted the curves and color of human skin, and she gasped as she gazed into the face of a young warrior god. Eyes the color of a desert sky bore into hers from under a strong brooding brow. His hair, the hue of a sand dune in the sun, subtly framed a face both chiseled and vulnerable.

"Vader?" she whispered.

His full lips were moistly parted, and his breath, sweet and fresh, tingled across her lips. "Yes."

"This..." She slid her fingers down his throat, her eyes wide and blazing, "this is you?"

"Was me," he answered. "Once."

"How...how are you doing this?"

"The power of the Dark Side of the Force in infinite, Lylla," he murmured. "The pain you felt was the bonding of our minds. Although you are Force-blind, I can now feel you wherever we may be, and you may partake in some of the aspects of the Dark Side with me." With a lion's strength, he slowly lowered to his knees, still sheathed deep inside of her. The wall had vanished like mist, and he laid them down on a raven-colored bed of breath.

He took her shoulders and gently pushed her up. "Let me look at you."

Lylla sat up, and moaned at the sensation. When she opened her eyes, she shuddered at the sight of him. So young and smooth, his skin kissed by the rays of twin stars. His body was slender, but hard and hewn from years of relentless training. She gazed downward, following the inverted lines of sleek muscle that ran from his abdomen to his slim hips.

He lifted his hands to his face. Flesh, yes, all of it, as it had been all those years ago. Slowly, he clenched and relaxed his fist, wearing an expression of unabashed ecstasy. "I remember now," he whispered. "The strength...the ease..." Vader pulled his gaze from his hands to rake over Lylla straddling him. With his undamaged eyes, he marveled at the sight of her naked body. Her breasts, small yet full, her nipples flushed and hard for his touch. His eyes followed her form, long and pale in the light, until they rested on the clipped scarlet hair of her mound. His awe of her ebbed away, replaced by seething lust, and his lips pulled into a hungry snarl as his cock grew even harder inside of her. In this body, strong and young and surging with power, he would take her in ways impossible for him before, in ways SHE never let him...

And Lylla would only beg him for more.

"Touch yourself," he commanded. With her eyes half closed and her lips agape in ecstasy, he watched her massage her breasts in little circles, and heard her moan when she pinched her nipples. "Touch your cunt."