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The lights were powered down in the ship's small sick bay. The facility was presently unoccupied and looked as if it hadn't been used in a very long time. Its paultry assortment of medical supplies were archaic and many medicines had expired. There was no bacta to be found.
Obi-Wan peered around the dingy room and frowned. It was the most pathetic-looking sick bay he had ever been in.
"It appears as if we'll have to fend for ourselves," he told Saloma, urging her inside.
"It's all right. I just want to wash up a little," she whispered roughly. She spied a sink across from the single examination table and headed towards it. Obi-Wan followed her.
"Try not to speak," he stated. "Let your throat to heal."
Saloma began rinsing a cloth towel under warm water. She glanced over her shoulder at the Jedi and smiled slightly.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she croaked.
"Sssshhh," Obi-Wan hushed her. He drew up beside her and took the cloth from her hand. Turning off the water, he gestured at the examination table. "Here, I'll do it. Sit down."
Saloma opened her mouth to protest, then promptly closed it. Slipping out of her coat, she sighed and obediently perched herself on the edge of the table.
Obi-Wan took her coat and placed it over a chair at the foot of the table. He studied the wounds on Saloma's neck, gently pulling back the collar of her blouse.
Saloma suddenly grasped his hand before he could begin washing her and signaled him to wait.
He paused and leaned back. "What is it?....Oh, of course," he relayed as she indicated the excess water dripping from the cloth. She began to unfasten the front of her blouse.
The Jedi stood watching her with his arms folded loosely over his chest. His face was void of expression, but his eyes followed the movement of her hands as Saloma slowly peeled back the blouse and pulled it off her shoulders. She tossed it over her coat and leaned her head to the side, exposing her long neck to him; her newly-bared skin tingling in the sharp coolness of the room.
Obi-Wan licked his lips and blinked several times as if coming out of a trance. He hadn't anticipated the possibility of her not having anything on underneath the blouse. She had caught him off guard, which made the sight of her acutely arousing.
"What's wrong?" she asked innocently in her gravelly voice, noticing he hadn't proceeded.
The Jedi had to drag his eyes from the mesmerizing swell of her breasts up to her face. He quickly shook his head and cleared his throat.
"Nothing...at all," he pronounced and refocused his attention on the task at hand. He pressed the wet cloth carefully against the side of her neck, but couldn't resist watching a drop of water slide sensuously down into her cleavage.
Saloma made a face of discomfort. "It stings," she gasped.
"I know. I'm sorry." Obi-Wan frowned sympathetically. He delicately dabbed the corner of the cloth on the wounds to lift away the sticky blood. He was pleased to see the scratches were mostly superficial. She had gauged herself fairly deeply just under her chin however, and chills ran up and down his spine as he examined the marks. From them, he believed he could piece together an accurate account of what had happened to her in that passage. He lifted her hands to wipe them clean and saw the jagged, broken nails on her fingers, confirming his suspicions.
"Saloma, are you all right?" he asked anxiously. "I mean, really all right?"
"Yes," she sighed. "I feel a lot better now." She offered him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. "Thank you for taking care of me."
Obi-Wan exhaled heavily, full of guilt for having gotten so angry with her just after she had endured something so terrible. He turned away from her and began rinsing the cloth in the sink.
"You're welcome," he murmured, letting the warm water run soothingly over his hands. "Get dressed. Then we'll go find something to eat."
"What if I don't want to?" Saloma replied, her voice barely audible.
Obi-Wan wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. He turned off the water and methodically dried his hands on a towel, still feeling unworthy to face her.
"Don't you want to eat?" he asked.
"No. I don't want to get dressed."
At that, Obi-Wan dropped the towel and turned around.
Saloma smiled slyly and crooked her finger at him. She was stretched out on her side, propped up on one elbow. The remainder of her clothes were discarded and scattered on the floor.
"Come on," she whispered. "I just had a brush with death. I need to feel alive again. I know I held your interest for a moment or two earlier. What do I need to do to get it back?"
Obi-Wan swept his eyes over her provocatively and took a deep breath. "You never lost my interest," he told her quietly. He took a tentative step towards her, her gaze beckoning him.
She sat up further and reached for him, pulling him closer to her. She leaned forward and kissed him, reveling in the soft sweetness of his mouth, as her hands strayed inside his coat and over his abdomen. The muscles of his stomach clenched beneath her palms as she tugged his tunic open, longing to feel his warm, silky skin against hers. She felt his hands slide over her sides and light on her waist. He kneaded her flesh and emitted a short, muffled moan of desire. Saloma pulled back from him slightly and busied herself unclasping his belt. Once undone, she slipped it off of him and leaned over to drape it on the chair.
Obi-Wan took the opportunity she'd given him to disrobe and shrugged out of his coat, letting it fall to the floor at his feet. He fairly tore the tunic from his torso and sent it sailing towards the sink; stepped on the heels of his boots and pulled them off, then reached for the waistband of his trousers.
Her eyes glittering with lustful adoration, Saloma layed back on the table to watch him strip. He locked his eyes on hers with a smoldering gaze as he unfastened the fly and opened it. His chest rose and fell with the hard rhythm of his deepening respiration. He took one long, steadying lungful of air, then slowly slid the open waistband over his narrow hips, down his thighs, and over his calves. His trousers pooled around his ankles and he stepped out of them and kicked them aside.
When Obi-Wan moved towards her, Saloma readily shifted to make room for him on the table, then rolled over on her stomach to push the pillow off to the side. She grinned, feeling the Jedi settle his body lightly over her back. His breath was in her ear as he nuzzled her cheek, whispering endearments and praising her glorious beauty. She sighed with desire and tucked her arms under her breasts to brace her upper body.
Obi-Wan rained soft kisses down the back of her bruised neck and tenderly nipped the skin on her shoulders, alternating the sensations she felt. He passed his hands over her arms and down her sides, delighting in her perfect form, kneading and tickling and stroking her everywhere he could reach. She began to writhe impatiently beneath him, her heart banging in synchronization with his. Her strong pulse spread a deepening heat through her body and made him ache with the need to be inside her. Aligning his body with hers, the Jedi raised himself off her and urged her to spread her legs farther apart by rubbing them with his thighs.
As Saloma felt the weight of the Jedi's hips against her buttocks, her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest. She closed her eyes tightly and buried her face in the table's padding to keep from crying out, but when he very slowly pressed himself into her and slowly eased himself back out, she couldn't resist whimpering in ecstasy. Each time he moved in her, he would push himself deeper, slowly pull out, then press back into her even deeper. Saloma thought she'd go mad from this exquisite torture.
Saloma's body was tightening around him and Obi-Wan didn't know how much longer he could maintain this pace without going insane himself, but he could sense Saloma's intense pleasure and felt the way her body responded to him. Maybe just a little longer. He leaned over and nibbled her earlobe, and then blew softly in her ear. His breath was hot and damp and she shuddered with delight at the sensation. Obi-Wan smiled.
Saloma's mind centered on her physical sensitivity. Obi-Wan's mind quieted as well as he steadily increased his rhythm and began to grind against her more powerfully. She found she could not stay still as he moved on her and began raising her hips each time he thrusted into her. Her back arched against his body wanting to feel him closer to her. She drew her knees up more and the Jedi growled sensuously, slipping his arm around her waist to hold her to him. His other hand closed over her breast and kneaded it savoringly.
Then Obi-Wan straightened pulling Saloma up with him until they were both up on their knees to make her body more accessible to him. Leaning her back against him, the Jedi slid his hands lovingly over her breasts, abdomen and hips. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened on her smooth dark skin, making her body tantalizingly sleek and glossy. He murmured 'I love you' over and over in her ear and kissed the side of her face as she stretched her arm up to run her hand through his hair. Saloma closed her eyes and smiled. She turned her head around to face him and he hungrily covered her mouth with his, kissing her so passionately she felt she might swoon. She knew at that moment she needed release before her mind imploded. She tore her mouth from his and bent over, bracing herself up on her hands. Obi-Wan immediately took hold of her hips for leverage and drove himself deeply into her. Saloma inhaled sharply and groaned softly.
Consumed with desire, Obi-Wan ground himself against Saloma with a fevered urgency. His body was screaming for gratification, but he wanted to feel her fulfillment first. He passed his hand over her back and around her side to her abdomen, then slowly slid his hand lower, and delved his fingers through the downy hair between her legs. Her body reacted instantly to his touch. He heard her breathing quicken and felt her muscles tightened around him. She became even hotter and wetter as he rubbed her. Her cries became more intense and she clawed the padding on the table. Within moments, her body spasmed and she threw her head back and released a long quivering breath.
Feeling her climax, Obi-Wan's body erupted. He wrapped his arms around her, clinging tightly to her as he pressed his face against her shoulder blade, scraping his teeth against her skin as he gasped for air.
Wriggling against him one last time, Saloma reveled in the sensation of his body so intensely locked with hers. She stayed up on her hands and knees until Obi-Wan was able to ease his grip on her; then carefully lowered them both down on the table and contentedly sprawled out beneath the weight of the Jedi.
Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes and lay his head down on the back of her neck, unwilling to separate himself from her just yet. He knew she didn't mind and waited until his respiration had slowed and his heart rate was just about back to normal before rolling off her and collapsing in a heap on the table beside her. He turned his head to face her.
Her eyes smoldering in the euphoria of her afterglow, Saloma slowly licked her lips, and nodded in approval. "I feel...alive," she breathed.
Obi-Wan smiled and nodded. "Yes," he agreed and leaned over to kiss her. "So do I."
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