darththalia (darththalia) wrote in tpm_flashback, @ 2004-09-05 14:51:00 |
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Current mood: | accomplished |
Anchor by Ladonna King
Original poster: marzilla
Title: Anchor
Author: Ladonna King
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Q/O
Warnings: non-con between partners, violence
Link to story: http://masterapprentice.org/archive/a/a
Reasons for recommending: "Anchor" is dark, hot, sweet, bizarre, and utterly compelling. Ladonna's writing is vivid and unique, and this story will stay with you long after you've read it.
Obi-Wan was very glad that his frequent lack of an erection failed to bother his Master. There was only the huge, thick cock spearing him, big hands canting his hips just so as his Master's knees kept his own braced wide, the feathering of warm breath against his nape and shoulders. Only the relentless surge of his Master's body into his own, filling him, possessing him, remaking his flesh around the steely length that pierced him.
He was being opened up in ways he'd never dreamed, his body relearning the meaning of touch, that a palm curling around the back of his neck was command, not congratulation. The hands that adjusted his position knew him from the inside out now, and they were completely unconcerned with katas and fighting forms. For him, those hands knew desire and need and little else, which was strange when he considered how eloquent they were... They were mute for him, hungry and rough, and that hurt him, almost...when he forgot.
Another hard thrust caught his breath in his throat as something like pleasure arced up his spine, and he let strong arms twine around him, pulling him back into a hot, slick chest, gasping as the cock inside him shifted. They were sitting up in the wreck of their bed, Obi-Wan sitting in the other's lap, wide eyes staring up into the featureless darkness of the ceiling. His Master's hips flexed slowly, and Obi-Wan couldn't choke off a groan in time as each deep stroke slid across the treacherous place inside him that welcomed this invasion, that could take pleasure in anything. A low growl stuttered across his skin as his Master nuzzled at his throat, his shoulders, his sweat-damp hair, tongue darting out before teeth latched home.
Hissing in surprise, he felt his whole body constrict at the bite, heard his Master's pleased growl as his inner muscles tightened on the other's cock. The arms around his chest tensed, and before he knew it, he was being shifted forward, reaching out instinctively for the headboard and bracing himself as his Master pounded into him with greater strength, rocking him forward with each thrust. It didn't hurt anymore...he'd gotten used to it days ago, but it frightened him, that wildness, even when he knew...
"Master," he breathed, but the other's stroke never changed, ignoring the meaningless babble of his voice. "Please...Qui-Gon, if you can hear me..."
Anchor