They moved swiftly through the twining base, down one passage then another that were assuredly empty of all else save them. And it didn't matter where they were, the heat of his gaze never left her for more than a moment. And as they made their way into familiar passages, Rhiasen couldn't help but to become lost in her own observations. Becoming the captive to his scrutiny meant she was constantly aware of every detail of his face, or at least those details she could see without the need of craning her neck. The slope of his nose, the shade of deep crimson tinge across the ridge of his cheeks. Whether it was his particular lineage, the power granted to him from the Force or whatever else in his past, Scourge was distinct in a way she had never noticed in others. Beautiful. And he certainly radiated the fire of a mighty inferno, that would melt ice and kindle a forge. A deep ruby burning so bright it was impossible not to feel the heat of him, to be engulfed by it, to fall within the intensity until she could breathe nothing else but the air between them.

What she wouldn't give to let that desire burn her alive. But his gaze, interspersed between fleeting glances, promised much more than that. It whispered of warmth, of slow presses of his body over hers. Then faster. Harsher. Heating her blood as it coursed underneath the press of her fingernails along his neck. Or perhaps she'd prefer softness from him, his strength channelled into the gentle rock of his hips. Into the delicate manner in which he might explore every inch of her figure with his curious tongue, as if learning her being through taste, mapping her pleasure as easily as cartographers map planetary systems.

Oh stars...

She'd likely kill a man for this to end sooner, or tear through anything necessary if it meant hastening their ascent into his bunk. The only thing that tempered that sharpening edge of her need was Scourges own demeanor. Contained. Disciplined. Such composure could endure the unrelenting pressure of a collapsing star. Rushing him, challenging that patience and watching him come unhinged.. was an unspoken and forbidden temptation to be ridden slowly. It couldn't be wasted.
And yet like oil on flames, his stare, the slow strokes of his palm over the fabric that covered the length of her thigh, it all fed into this mounting madness, twisting her need into something no more easily satiated than a beast driven into a frenzy.
But something felt amiss, buzzing just incoherently off to the side, just out of view.

The door opened, its heavy metal swish the only sound in an otherwise empty space, but when the noise had stopped it left the air around them so silent that Rhiasen could hear her own heartbeat, thudding steadily as anticipation made her chest tight as it began to shut, but not entirely.

His spartan quarters greeted them both. Much smaller than her own, far less space given over to comfort and yet she hardly spared anything more than a glance as he pressed her back and she wrapped her legs around his waist, as if urged. Not that they required much urging, Rhiasen's ankles pressed together behind the dip in his lower back, holding him tightly against her growing pit of longing. The barrier of clothing did nothing to conceal his growing readiness and as she felt him nuzzle into the skin along her neck she did little more than close her eyes, slipping her hands along the surface of his smooth scalp in response and tracing the angled divets upon his shoulders.

Then was a pause as if he'd been struck. And he was loosening his grip upon her, her ankles sliding from their perch and setting her boots flat against the solid surface once again, his hands hovering precariously near her waist. Scourge looked at her, stared for a moment, the rubies of his eyes shrouded as if by a gathering darkness. She'd have known his expression well enough to understand how badly he wanted this as well as she. His visage was set upon hers and it told of desire, want. It had a name and it was hers alone. But there was still a pause. A question that demanded no voice and yet its intent could not be missed as he spoke.

"We can stop this if you desire it. You only need say it."

"Scourge," The voice that left her throat was unexpected. Light. Barely above a whisper. Her throat went dry. Unable to form another word to express her own adamance.

Instead she took his hands, removing them from her waist, moving their fingers to entwine one about the other and stepping back as she kicked her boots free. Pulling him away from the door to let it close them away and allow the base on the other side to forget their presence. At least for now.

She took his gloved hands and kissed the back of each one before peeling them off, letting her lips caress the naked palms beneath. Then she brought his right up to her face, pressing his hand against her cheek, letting herself lean into his warm skin, "What I desire," her voice a heated whisper, "is this. With you."

Rhiasen looked up at him. Hoping he understood that this was not some misplaced act of passion. That this was not something fleeting or the result of an unfortunate slip-up in her emotional fortitude, "I need you. Do you still need me?"

"With an intensity you can scarcely imagine, Jedi." Scourge's words held none of the distancing that his old pet name, 'Jedi' often had. Instead he leaned down, letting their height difference vanish into the space that separated them as he tilted her chin up and kissed her lips softly.

It lasted for only the span of a moments before the kiss transformed, its nature taking on the faint edge of desperation, of restrained need as he crushed their lips together. Desire, over three centuries old and now unfurling, unrestrained and relentless. And yet Scourge was still the type of man who considered each movement carefully, as if such moments were only a luxury he could afford in the rare hours they could be stolen away in such privacy that it must be exact.

He set the rhythm. Letting each motion follow a short cadence to which he listened intently to each of her sounds as if following the score of her body with each press of their mouths. It was intoxicating, allowing him to dominate and indulge the exchange in this way. It was in no means a submission to weakness, as a matter of fact, it felt much akin to wielding a weapon. Whereas he could dictate the terms, set the tempo to test what drew forth hissing sighs, moans of pleasure. Rhiasen could turn on a single note. Shift the narrative, from sweet nothings to deep, rasping groans.

A small gift from their mutual trust. And the further he went, the more Scourge revealed just how little he had truly considered his own needs to be. Or at least, so limited in options and opportunities as they were. So there was time now, even if it was limited, Scourge could have this. Have her. As many times as he desired.

They inched back across the room towards the sparse accommodations and Rhiasen's knees met the firm edge of the bed behind her. It creaked gently when they slid atop the sheets, pulling each other down. Scourge remained over her, leaning his weight on one elbow as he dropped the other to trace over her face, mapping over her features as he'd done before in their stolen hours together. Only now there was a different hunger in his touch.
But even as their embrace found its footing the tempo faltered. Hitting an uneven beat. Perhaps it was too long since last time he'd tried, but Scourge, even while lust found him and he grew beneath her touch, his mind resisted. A black tide dragging him down. Anxiety. 'What if-'

There was a faint furrow upon his brow and a sour note to his next kiss and he pulled away. Even his chest which Rhiasen could feel press so deliciously upon hers, ceased its slow climb.

"Scourge?" Rhiasen spoke his name as a question. Propping herself up on her elbows. Her loins practically cried not to stop this, but his clear hesitation told that he needed this moment. Something was bothering him and that came first.

The frustration was easy to spot. He gave up no chance of appearing strong, composed and rational when the sour look lingered. But as was often true with this Sith, it was never easy to pry from.

"I... desire your embrace. I yearn to bring you pleasure," Scourge spoke with his back turned towards her, leaning up and sitting upon the edge of the mattress, the tense clench of his jaw matched that of his hands, "Pleasure that I cannot provide. Not with the damned effects of-" Scourge's words faded and his head turned away from her. He had been certain that his performance would not have suffered so, if the tightness of his robes was an indicator. It had been so long, to be able to taste that stimulation after three hundred years.. of course that had woken parts of himself, of his senses, long thought to be extinguished. He wanted this. But his mind, not his flesh, was the traitor here.

Rhiasen shifted and came to sit up beside him, wrapping an arm around him and leaning her head on his shoulder. This wasn't her specialty. This wasn't like advising a crew member on how to manage an uncooperative engine or an elicit contact who was no longer being honest with their business. But she couldn't bear to see him look so.. despondant.

'What do I do here?'

A lot hung on her response here. She was worried that a wrong word, an ill placed comfort, or a failure to get him to relax would send him to the galactic north of this solar system with the rate in which his anxiety and frustrated longing spiraled. But the simple truth was, Scourge didn't want platitudes or sweet nothings, he wanted a reason to believe he would be enough. And the answer, despite its complexity, was rather plain.

She came in front of him. Put a hand on his cheek and guided his chin so that they were face to face again. She started this way, soft, testing the waters to make sure he would respond and then put both her arms around his neck, bringing them flush together. Rhiasen made sure their foreheads pressed together lightly and kept the contact. It wasn't a kiss. But something deeper, quieter, as their breaths intertwined and all her focus went to communicating her every intention to him.

Scourge did not fight her. Instead he leaned into her and closed his eyes. Inhaling deeply and drawing his arms to slide up her sides and hold her delicately around the middle, almost uncertain whether he should go further, or draw his hand back and lose her warmth, her contact.

Then without much warning, he gripped tighter and laid back on his bed. Bringing her down to lay atop him, curling her in his hold. The position reminded him of the first night they spent together in one anothers arms. Quiet. Peaceful. And filled with nothing save each others breathing.

Together they lay without so much as a word, minutes dragging, though how many she did not know. Nor did she care, as slowly his fingers carded through her hair and with his chest under her ear, Rhiasen felt his heartbeat settle into a steady cadence of calm. He sighed softly, seemingly without meaning to, and Rhiasen tilted her head so his chin came to rest atop the crown of her head.

"Scourge.." she whispered into his chest and with all the patience and softness she could muster, said, "Can I- we try something?"

There was a short moment, where he seemed to consider. Whether for him or her was unclear, but nevertheless she lifted herself up, perching an arm either side of his shoulders as she hovered above him, "What would you have of me?," He asked, hands coming to rest upon her hips as she had moved to sit up, looking at her inquisitively, searching for her cues and her signs, and she, his.

"I would like to see you, to touch you." she began.

It was then he found his objection, "There is no pleasure in it, for you."

"That is for me to decide," she rebutted immediately, "This is new for me, just as it is for you." Rhiasen reassured, as his objections became less certain in his features. "I will stop if you don't find it pleasing."

And, in all his ire and determination, he answered with the barest nod, leaning back and sitting up. In that instance, the fire had returned to him. Or had perhaps just been sparked again, to illuminate the lurking darkness that had lulled him earlier in that black tide of anxiety, "My body is yours." Scourge spoke low and clear. And his voice, one so used to issuing commands, cut through the air.

He followed the cues. Let her take the reins and begin. For Scourge was tired. So very tired from the back and forth within his own mind. Let this decision, this action, become something outside of himself for a time. Let someone else shoulder his burdens and show him the path forward. Oh, to be selfish and submit his body and soul entirely. Only if for a night.

Her hands started slowly, easing him back and helping him strip the confining garments away. Scourge wasn't sure how she managed to divest him of his belt, robes and other layers, and yet in the span of what felt like mere heartbeats he'd grown accustomed to the cooler air in the space of his quarters, laying back, propped on his forearms and staring down at his bare figure, no more clothing concealing his body save a simple pair of gray briefs.

Her eyes roamed over him. From the broad expanses of his shoulders, trailing down the dips and ridges of toned abdominal muscles, carved by time and extensive physical exertion. So utterly masculine in form and contoured with age, and experience. There were marks all over his body. Cuts, gouges, and other scars of ages past, mingling and weaving their own history across his skin. Some shallow, barely noticeable. Others long, and deeply carved. The galaxy had tried to cut Scourge down and, despite its most bitter efforts, it had failed.

"Beautiful." she whispered and leaned down, peppering gentle kisses from the ridges of his face, trailing them lower, running over his collarbone-

"Wait." Scourge called and Rhiasen hesitated. Her lips resting on the upper point of his chest, pulling away.

"Are you alright? Was I doing too much?"

"No," Scourge let out a slow exhale, his body's anticipation could be seen plainly. "I wish to savour you as you savour me", he stated and drew up to meet her eye level, bringing his hand to cup her chin, brushing over the flushed curve of her cheek. "Let me see you. All of you." he finished, sliding his hand along the clasp of her cloak, a question which she replied by reaching up and opening it and letting it fall loose around her shoulders, pooling around them, making it that much easier to cast off to the ground and join the growing pile of discarded clothes.

Where he was jagged, hers was the curved flow of the river's ripples. Her figure a gentle wave that did little to hide a warriors shape. She lacked the bulk his form boasted, but he saw a strong set of legs that had ran for miles, miles which they had ran alongside each other. He saw arms strong enough to defend those in need, but still soft enough to soothe him with nothing but a touch. He saw her. And she saw him.

"Now.. let me continue?" she teased lightly and she was given a slight nod as Scourge settled back and Rhiasen leaned down to press her lips against the expanse of his skin once more, this time drawing a line down his sternum, bringing his breath to catch in his throat. Then she did something he hadn't expected. Rather than follow the trail downwards, towards the tell-tale twitch and heaviness beneath his briefs, she instead traced the muscles of his abdomen with the light brush of her fingertips, hand ghosting downwards before retreating. Scourge, whose eyes had drifted to half lidded, fluttered open at the loss of contact. And he didn't get a chance to ask about the detour she took, for her answer came in the way she began trailing kisses across his chest.

With feather soft presses, her lips mapped his contours. She explored him in ways he didn't quite recall having experienced with previous partners. Every inch of skin was fair game. Fingers mapping a trail where lips did not travel. Those same hands working the hem of his briefs, gradually lowering them and revealing his length which jumped to life as it was freed from its confines and soon became so solidly erect. His desire was undeniable. Yet, Rhiasen barely gave him any thought, instead, her sole aim appeared to be to devour him whole. Her attentions were insistent and almost desperate, and for a brief moment she didn't quite look like the fallen Jedi Master who was known for her collected exterior, but instead, the woman she truly was inside. A Sith. This moment of freedom and open, unbridled passion. She lavished her affections upon him, her own form almost as hot as his skin as she left not an inch untouched.

Suffice to say, his need became near tortuous. With the constant attention, every brush of her hair, her breath, even the smallest sighs and mewls had the effect of kindling him, raising him higher. The deliberate choice in her actions, to stimulate the whole of him, even parts which weren't strictly erogenous, only succeeded in ratcheting his sensitivity and need. Soon, the very anticipation of what she would do was enough.

"Rhiasen.." the name spilled from his lips, sounding strangely alien with how little he actually used it, instead going mostly by 'Jedi'.

As much as Scourge wished to close his eyes, surrender his sight and simply feel, to indulge in the raw pleasure and simply exist, he forced them open, unable to truly do anything save stare down the expanse of his form, where his Jedi laid worship at his body and her hair trailed the sharp grooves that carved his belly, a mess of crimson, wine and midnight, so close to his length. Her mouth wandered the entire plane. Tongue lapping where a lifetime of service had marred him, fingers following closely behind.

Scourge did not know this flavor. He had lived long, but never had his needs ever taken form for something like this. Such things as love, romance, and... the satisfaction it brought, he had never conceived a world in which he could experience them for himself, again. Yet his Jedi did. In the simplest way imaginable. She simply sought to show him. Through the mists of his indifferent shell, her purpose came into focus.

He could not hide his panting now, however. Her mouth drew lower and lower. Parting and settling with her palm cradled between his thighs, the slow drag and brush of skin becoming her true instrument of torture, that kept his senses grounded to this room. To this moment in time and his stomach pulled inward when finally she kissed her way from his thighs to the base of his length. His arousal so evident from her wandering lingering mouth. Rhiasen finally looked him straight in his eyes, a question forming within that orange gaze, a want within her that was unadulterated and completely shameless. The answer came to him easily. With his brief nod, he gave his consent to proceed.

And proceed she did, as the heat and wetness of her mouth encompassed him and she dragged her tongue, lavishing him in that divine sensation, sending a fierce tremor up his back. The purest essence of sin, a perfect mix of carnal pleasure, intimacy, and even love.

From her, it was his undoing.

The grip of his hands in her hair were that of instinct. Even as he grunted softly, he guided her at the pace he knew and recognised best. Although initially uncertain, Rhiasen took to the experience easily. She listened closely to his signals, to his tone and pace. Unhurried, patient. Afterall, there would be many, many times for them, as Scourge had hoped there to be. He was simply content. Here. Now. Feeling his Jedi so close, her head between his thighs, and his hands stroking through her hair.

At first, she merely caressed and flicked the underside of him with the very tip of her tongue. Meandering, languid and enjoying the taste and sensation of her lover, no doubt savouring every hitch in his breathing and quiet sigh, that built until her pace quickened, sucking him down and slowly dragging herself up the rigid heat of his shaft and this repeated. A slow build into a steadily climbing rhythm of pressure. He closed his eyes, indulging, submitting, focusing on nothing more than the rising tide that began in his core and tightened and clenched around his spine and-

No.

Not like this.

He wasn't going to finish, not like this, not alone.

Although his arousal was near excruciating, Scourge desired far more than the relief she gave him. He wanted their pleasures and releases to be in synch. He was adamant, and his plan set. Three hundred years he had waited for a love like this, for a love like her, he would not finish yet. Scourge knew this moment and its importance, his mind already prepared, as a war raged between his arousal and his brain.

Gently, and perhaps a touch regretfully, he shifted and grasped her. "If we are to finish this, then we finish together." he rasped, his breathing short from their previous endeavours. But his voice held that conviction she was so used to, one which meant the matter was sealed. And although, as Scourge himself could hear, the frustration of his arousal seeped into his words. Yet, all that seemed unimportant in the moment, as her thoughts were suddenly drawn to his intentions, and his goal.
Her skin was burning with arousal, and the aching heat within her had begun to intensify, near painful in its urgency.

"Up here, Jedi." Scourge's growl was not meant as a command, but came as such anyway, and Rhiasen did not hesitate, parting from her position between his legs, and straddling him properly. Yet he insisted on dragging her higher. Further and further, up the ridge and furrows of his chest, the expanse of her slim form looming over him. It wasn't until her core hovered inches from his face, did Scourge lower her gently, his hands guiding her down, and ensuring her stability. But this didn't satisfy her. Rhiasen awkwardly readjusted, shifting her position the opposite direction so they could both give and recieve.

Only when that was done, did Rhiasen's senses erupt as she felt the wet and broad flick of a tongue lick into her heat and tease her folds. But it wasn't long before the same heat, followed by her lover, came upon her like a storm, as if a fire ignited the blaze and passion within Rhiasen. Scourge couldn't stop himself even if he had the power or inclination, it felt as though something had been unleashed within him, some inner beast long caged and dormant was woken and it came roaring out in force, making Rhiasen shiver and writhe, pinned and forced to the same pleasurable torture she'd made him submit to before.

But just as his intentions had been plain and his words a promise, Rhiasen promised too, to ensure both their pleasure and relief tonight.

Her pace and ferocity came almost instantaneously. Not merely relishing in his length, she used both mouth and fingers in tandem. Coaxing him. Delighting in every grunt, every little tremor, she felt running through the planes of his stomach, and thighs beneath her. It was an effort to concentrate now, and keep track of every caress, every stroke. His tongue was everywhere, inside her, swirling and tasting her and laving against that bundle of nerves with a fevered desperation she'd never seen in Scourge before, as if it was their last time together. The moment he pulled back, to utter her name and cry out from the intense sensations, Rhiasen redoubled her efforts and his sounds were music to her ears.

It felt like a delicate dance. Like two opponents standing in a room, coming closer, and closer, circling around one another as their instincts led their bodies. Only a moment's notice to grasp eachother by the waist, and tug, drawing one another to meet at the center, pressing, exploring. Their needs clear and urgent as they fought with teeth and tongue, hands groping and roaming with wanton abandon. Both yearning for more. For as much as was possible. For this to never end.

Never end.

Never-

A moan shattered the calm, and the inferno that had come in his wake consumed them. Rhiasen stiffened and arched, crying out softly and bearing down, the first trembles of climax rocking through her. But Scourge held her firm, guiding and soothing her through the release, continuing to nudge her along, drawing that peak out even further. Her cry quickly transformed into a moan, the tension releasing from her shoulders and Scourge's head fell back, his whole body stiffening and bucking his hips, a hot white heat radiating from within, up his back, spreading the shockwave to every part of him.

It was then Scourge saw stars as an overwhelming amount of emotion slammed into him as his climax hit him like a speeder. He released, throbbing and grunting into her with no control, no sense or feeling besides pleasure. And she swallowed every bit. The world faded. Or perhaps, his consciousness did. What were seconds felt like hours to him, his release so forceful and debilitating and he almost forgot to breathe as his hands desperately grabbed onto the body above him for something. Anything, to hold onto in order to anchor himself. It wasn't until the warmth began to dwindle, did he begin to drift back, but only after an intense and almost agonizing wave of ecstasy.

Even as it ebbed, those lingering memories remained. Still vivid, and oh, so clear. It was a mercy then, that his Jedi had slipped from atop him, settling to sit, facing him and straddling his waist as she leant over him and brushed her locks aside so she could properly kiss him. Their tastes intermingled, saline, sweet and yet, rich and slightly bitter all at once.

A finger slipped beneath her chin, and, with a gentleness Scourge had not quite demonstrated previously, he met her gaze with his, his words a promise and declaration, "I am yours. For now, and as long as our fates are intertwined."

Rhiasen did not hold the same formal, elegant air about her as they spoke. Rather, she appeared utterly disheveled, in a way only Scourge got to see, "As long as the galaxy lets us be," her reply was immediate. It would have sounded romantic and endearing had she not followed it with, "-So, round two?" a playful quip, not yet finished, but obviously wanting more. Her words were cut off when Scourge leaned and began pressing tender kisses against the delicate column of her throat, trailing down to her shoulder, moving at an easy, deliberate pace, taking his time to enjoy this.

"Hnn.." it came from somewhere in the back of his throat, low and husky as his large hand spanned the fullness of her hips and his kisses reached her neck once more. "What have you awakened inside me, my Jedi?" he growled softly into her ear, voice dark with lust, his other hand smoothing a path down her spine. She wasn't quite the woman he'd met in the Emperor's fortress years ago, or even the Jedi he'd seen from his vision anymore, this one was fierce and fierce in love. With their noses barely touching, Scourge parted his lips and inhaled deeply, filling himself with her essence. "This could keep us occupied all night..." his words drifted lazily, giving in and losing himself to her scent, his desire returning with even more power. He wondered, how long had she kept these passions in check, just waiting for the chance to come free and he smiled against her neck. His sly smile a secret between lovers, and the night their own.