Title: Narrow It Down To One
Author: Jenny Dare
Archive: Go for it, Crysta!
Series: Sort of. Falls in my Imperial timeline as a prequel to
everything, including Chain Of Command. All my Imperial Stories
can be found on the Sith_Chicks archive, plus my other fics are on
my (somewhat neglected webpage:
http://home.earthlink.net/~jensden/warning.htm)
Characters: Grand Moff Tarkin and...moi! (Hey those new to my Tarkin
obsession, don't knock it till you try it...I've got several people
who dig on my rendition of GMT!)
Author's notes: Have been bending my brain so much lately creating
original stuff, tonight I just wanted to play in someone ele's world
for a few hours...)
Feedback is devoured! (it's totally un-betaed tho' so it may suck!)

Narrow It Down To One
by: Jenny Dare

It must've been the mechanical sound of the droid's voice that woke
me; that or perhaps it was the gentle whoosh of the door as it slid
open and shut. I could hear the hiss of an authoritative "shh!" as
a familiar Imperial Commander silenced the droid who had undoubtedly
carried in his things from his transport, and a shuffling as it
walked across the rug in the entryway, then exited. I willed my
eyes open to look at the window and through the slightly parted
drapes I could see that it was not even light outside yet. Had I
fallen asleep while waiting for him to get here? The light was off,
so if I did I must've roused up enough to turn it off sometime in
the middle of the night. The pale glow of pre-dawn crept through
the skylight in the slanted ceiling above me, and I could just
barely make out the shadowy shapes of the furniture in the room.
      The heavy footfalls of thick-soled boots walked along the
foyer, across the living room floor of my apartment. Inspecting it,
was he? I wondered as I allowed the excitement to seep stealthily
into my stomach. How long had it been? Six weeks, maybe seven? I'd
not been called upon for any services while he was travelling
inter-planetary, and he'd not been to Coruscant for almost two
months. Duty had encompassed him of late, duty to the secret weapon
that he'd spoken of when pillow talk was whispered, of plans only
select few were privy to, select few that surely shouldn't have
included me, a mere transcriber. But certainly it wasn't my station
in the fleet that gained me this position of knowledge; rather, my
various positions in one esteemed Grand Moff Tarkin's bed that
granted me access to secrets only a mistress has the privilege of
knowing.
      The footsteps came closer and I counted them as he walked
down the hall toward my bedroom. The air seemed fuller once he'd
entered; full with power and command, full with the presence of this
man that carried an aura that fueled me like oil to a flame. He was
standing beside my bed I knew, even though my face was turned away
from him on the pillow. Inspecting again, perhaps? I'd fallen asleep
on top of the bed, wrapped in a short silk kimono-styled robe, and
it barely covered the tops of my thighs in the position I was laying
in on my stomach. I felt a large, warm hand on my lower back,
slipping to my side and I rolled over in response.
      "Shall I say good morning or good evening?" I whispered,
getting my first look at him as he stood over me. He was still in
full uniform, and in the muted light from the coming dawn he was
mysterious and incredibly exciting to glimpse. Even though I could
barely see his eyes I knew they stared at me with the intensity
they always had, steel blue and unyielding.
      "You shall say neither," he replied. Hearing his voice made
me tremble slightly under his caress, and his palm hooked over my
hipbone, willing me to come to him. I slid my legs over the edge of
the bed and sat in front where he stood and he pressed my face into
his stomach, tangling one hand in my hair, the other pulling my
shoulder close to him. "You shall say nothing at all."
      His voice was measured, controlled and direct, quiet and
low. I could never resist anything he said to me, would never think
of ignoring a command either in the briefing room or in the bedroom.
I kissed the fabric of his uniform, the tunic thick and rough under
my lips, bit against the hard leather of his belt as my hands
urgently wrestled the buckle open, undid his trousers and parted
them, sliding them off his hips. The clean scent of his skin rose
from his clothes, the smooth, warm flesh ecstasy to feel against my
lips. The fine trail of hair that led from his taut belly tickled
deliciously under my tongue as I laved it on a downward path,
hooking my fingers over his briefs and pushing them toward the floor.
His hardness jutted out when released, slapping against my cheek,
and he pressed my face so tightly against him that I couldn't move
for a minute, could just celebrate in the feeling of his cock
sandwiched against my nose and lips. When he allowed me space to
move away I slid my open mouth against the length of his shaft,
down further to the juncture of his legs. One hand gripped his firm
backside and the other toyed with the tight pendulum of his
testicles, and his breathy sighs from above urged me to move along,
to stop the teasing. But I knew he secretly enjoyed the teasing,
enjoyed feeling himself pushed to his limits, enjoyed testing his
control. It was always I who gave in first anyway, who could no
longer bear to be the vixen, who longed for the ritual, the motions.
I moved my head back and sunk his cock into my mouth, sheathing it
deeply and he inhaled sharply, holding his breath. Slow withdraw;
slow while looking up at him, feeling him knot his fist against the
back of my head. Lingering, sucking wetly on the engorged tip while
watching his hypnotic reaction, seeing the underside of his jaw
because his head is tipped back. Setting a rhythm as his hand pushed
my robe from my shoulders, looking back up to see him staring down
now, watching his eyes as my tongue swirls around the swollen head
of his cock, tasting a drop of his salty fluids. One hand travels
down his thigh, pushing his clothing further out of the way, not
losing my rhythm as I bend to feel the hard top of his boot.
He is a vision standing before me in the shadowy light, his uniform
tunic still in place, the pants and undergarments pushed aside, an
Officer, a Commander, and a man. A man under my sucking lips, a man
as he slides my robe to my waist, and I slip my arms from its
constraint. An Officer, a Commander as he reaches to unbutton his
own tunic, as he steps away for a moment to slide the boots off his
legs, his firm, slender body now revealed to me, elegant and sinewy
despite his age. His hands grab either side of my head as his mouth
covers mine hungrily, he guides me back and down to the bed as he
bites against my lips, my neck, urgency beneath his polished
exterior. He has huge hands, they fall across my breasts as he
fondles them, kisses and suckles at them and I am merely a writhing
beast under his command. The slick shaft of his harness slides
across my thigh, down the inside of my knee as he moves down, his
mouth pausing at my navel, the bottom tip of my pelvic bone, pausing
to nip, to bite with his lips. The thick, exploring flicker of his
tongue flashes across my swollen nether lips, parting me, his thumbs
pressing into me like he is pressing a ripe peach. His long, strong
fingers probe gently, are slickened with my juices as I arch into
his mouth, and he holds my hips down with one big, powerful hand.
My fingers pull at his hair, displacing its neat, combed appearance,
and moans escape my throat like a starving animal, unashamed and
uncontrolled. His feeding lips latch firmly to the swollen bundle
of nerves hidden within the burning crevice on which he sucks, a
finger, or perhaps now two, press rhythmically against my inner
walls, slowly, oh so slowly like torture though I'd rather have him
pummel and piston like a madman. But no such ceremony with this man,
this commander. His control, his rhythm. His methods. It is maddening.
      He suddenly moves away. I groan loudly in protest, sway my
hips toward him as he leans up on the bed. My eyes, heavy lidded,
look down to see him moving up the length of me, watching the top
of his head as he slowly sucks and bites my stomach, again the stiff
shaft brushing against my thighs. My leg wraps around his, moving
under him so that he will move into me. His face nestles into my
shoulder, biting hard, His fingers claim one nipple, the other hand
holds my head to his liking, moves it so he might kiss my mouth.
His cock slides against my slippery folds, parts them with its
swollen tip, and I thrust up to catch him inside me but he thrusts
away, above me, grinding hard into my pelvis. I clutch his head,
move a hand to maneuver his hips against mine, to sheath him within
me, but he strategically keeps his distance, teasing me still. With
a calculated move, he slides himself beneath me, and at once has both
hands on my hips. My back arches as I lean to sit astride him, place
my palms flat on his thighs behind me. Perfectly in sync with one
anther, my hips buck slightly forward as his hips arch under and I
am filled with him, the length of his shaft delightfully intruding,
like his hands, long and strong and powerful. I shudder at the depth,
at how he maintains his control for a savory moment, a moment when
our bodies reacquaint themselves to being joined, little spasms of
pleasures quivering through my thighs and groin. Then his hands
begin to move me.
      In seconds, it is a riot of feverish thrusting. Somehow he
is moving me, causing my legs to pump furiously against the bed as
he slams my hips on and off of him, meeting my downward thrusts with
his upward ones. His mouth is slightly parted but his eyes are
focused, focused on my face, on my body, moving one hand off my hips
to slide across my belly to squeeze one quaking breast. I slide my
palm along his inner thigh, moving my hand between his legs and
stroking his sac in rhythm with our lovemaking. In seconds I am
accustomed to our maniacal pace and my muscles clamp on his
thrusting cock on each stroke. He is close. With my free hand I
stroke his chest, gently pinch a hardened nipple. Cries of pleasure
escape my throat, escalate on every plunge his stiffness makes.
He too is captured in the moment, groans of ecstasy and unbridled
lust rising with my own.
      As my body stiffens I cry out to the sky, gasping loudly as
the shudders wrack my limbs, my thighs convulse with heat. Pulsing
warmth washes through me, and with a swelling, Tarkin groans long
and deep, impaling me and pushing my hips down hard against him, the
thumping twitch of his cock erupting with his thick, sticky climax.
Rocking slowly together, riding the final throbs I reach to pull his
hand from my hip, kiss it and press my face into his palm. His other
hand pulls my shoulder down, wraps around the length of my hair and
draws me to him. Straddling him still, our mouths meet, feed lazily
and languidly on one another. As he softens, I clench to keep him
inside me, enjoying the intimacy of our physical connection. He
tastes familiar, like himself, like me, and the warm, lined skin
of his face is comfortable against my cheek. His jaw is hard, hard
with age, hard with the stability of his command. His eyes are
closed, luxuriating in the deep kisses that I plant across his
forehead.
      "Is there something you wanted to say?" he asked quietly,
taking me somewhat by surprise.
      "Mmm..." I hum against his ear. "Welcome back. I'm very
pleased to see you."
      "And do you treat all your guests that you're pleased to
see in this same manner?"
      "Only the Imperial commanders of genius caliber."
      "Well then," he whispered. "That narrows it down
considerably." His tongue rolled on every 'r' and I smiled as I
rested atop him.
      "Some might say it narrows it down to one."
      " Ah, sweet words." His eyes were still shut but he opened
them as he began to speak. "I suppose you think your tongue will
lure me into disclosing all sorts of military secrets."
      "I only suppose from past experience." His fingers absently
stroked my shoulder as he looked at me.
      "The Emperor has discussed with me a grand opportunity," he
began, then turned his gaze to the skylight above my bed, staring
through it to the fading stars. "Would you like to hear about it?"
      "Absolutely," I said, and settled against his bare chest as
he began to tell the story...

*fin*