Chapter Text
The Jedi pushed her hair to one side, pressing delicate kisses to the back of the Duchess’s neck, his beard tickling her skin as she fumbled with the code to her room. The hallway was empty but far from private, the Jedi seemingly unconcerned by the idea of other party guests seeing them like this. Rationally, she knew he was likely able to monitor any movement around them, though, for a moment, she wondered if perhaps he was just a bit drunk.
“Having trouble, Duchess?” He asked smugly, smiling against her skin as he placed one hand on her thigh, pressing his fingertips into her flesh through the fabric of her skirts, Satine failing to stop her hips from reflexively rolling back against him.
“I am perfectly capable of opening a door thank you,” she said more to herself than to him, stifling a victorious squeal as the door hissed open and the very impatient man behind her pushed them inside.
It was impossible to know if he closed the door or the distance between them first, whirling her around and pulling her into a surprisingly tender kiss. He held her like she was precious, one arm around her waist, the other climbing her back, his touch trailing up her spine until his middle finger pressed deliciously at the base of her skull. He tasted like electricity and the whiskey he’d been drinking all night, his beard rough and tongue soft.
She whimpered when he pulled away, a pathetic note caught in her throat, his eyes soft and almost hesitant as she found his gaze, “I’m sure your security already swept the room—,” Obi-Wan said, clearing his throat when his voice came out hoarse. He’d been so bold in the hallway, so sure of himself in a place where seemingly anyone could have caught them, but now that they were here, alone, safe in her room, the sweet, nervous Padawan she’d fallen for was showing through his cool Jedi Master exterior.
“Go,” she insisted before he felt the need to explain himself, her voice soft, placing a gentle hand on his chest, her heart singing at the vulnerability in his eyes, “it will give me peace of mind as well.”
The kiss he pressed to her lips made her shudder, so sweet and adoring, his fingers wrapping around the back of her neck, pressing lightly into her skin before he pulled away, giving her a quick wink and disappearing into the dark, unused rooms of the suite as Satine turned to the primary bedroom, kicking off her silver heels and sitting herself down at the vanity.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she nearly laughed, realizing, the last time she’d seen her reflection, her skin had been dewy with sweat, her features contorted in pleasure, Obi-Wan buried deep inside her. There was something undeniable about the woman looking back at her, cheeks rosy, mouth still pink and pouty though her lipstick had long since faded, eyes bright with something that looked like youth.
She was in love.
Collecting herself enough to remove the silver crown of vines from her head, she untangled the circlet from her curls, placing it on the tabletop in front of her, picking up the brush there and combing through her golden hair, allowing her eyes to flutter closed as she breathed, working to slow the excited race of her heart. When she reopened her eyes, she found Obi-Wan’s reflection in the mirror, her Jedi standing stoic behind her, his gaze fond and almost mesmerized.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathed, shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief, wetting his lips absently, his fingers curling around the back of her chair. He had already done away with his gloves, his knuckles paling where his hands gripped the hard surface beneath them, looking at her like she was the only woman in the galaxy.
“Come here.”
It wasn’t a command, his voice breathless as he stood patiently behind her. It was a request. A want. A need.
Slowly she got to her feet, standing a few inches shorter without her heels, looking up at him through her eyelashes, her heart skipping a beat. Long, battle-rough fingers curled around the back of her neck, his thumb brushing hypnotically beneath her ear. Gently he pulled her closer, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, the sound of his shallow breathing making her vibrate.
“I love you, Satine,” he breathed into the air dividing them, sincere and sweet like he’d wanted to say the words all night. Her heart stuttered in her chest, a wondrous tingle prickling down her spine.
“I love you, Obi-Wan,” she echoed in a nearly silent whisper, her voice apparently lost to the night. The fingers on the back of her neck tensed at her words, his other hand on her waist pulling her even closer.
Softly, sweetly, his lips dropped to hers, butterflies swirling like a hurricane in her stomach as he hummed against her mouth, his entire body relaxing into her as if she was the only thing in the galaxy that gave him relief. Wrapping her arms around his neck she wove her fingers into his hair, sucking gently on his lower lip, enjoying the way his breath caught in his throat, taking the opportunity to lick into his mouth.
Quickly, heat began to build between them, soft loving kisses growing passionate and needy as if he hadn’t already claimed her once that night, desperate to feel his body on hers, to hear the sounds of his pleasure, to taste the salt on his skin, his very essence wrapping around all of her senses, holding her tight, making her crave more.
Making quick work of his belt, Satine began to pull at his clothes, their kiss deepening the closer she got to bare skin. Finally, she unfastened his tunic and pushed her hands inside, her knuckles grazing against the silky green lining, her palms pressing eagerly to the burning warmth of his body, her fingers trailing over his ribs, pulling him in, and dropping her mouth to his collarbone.
Rolling his head back, Obi-Wan moaned quietly as she nipped at his skin, his hands roaming her body, fingers pausing to run up and down the buttons lining her spine.
“Turn around,” he whispered, his grasp on her tensing as she pressed her teeth into his shoulder.
With a small grumble, she detached her mouth from his skin, pulling back to look at him, watching as he shrugged out of his tunic. For a moment she considered telling him to just rip the dress off, but after quick consideration, acquiesced, begrudgingly turning her back on a very shirtless Obi-Wan.
Nimble fingers fell to the line of tiny buttons as he pressed his lips to her hair, humming in appreciation when she pulled the golden locks to one side, giving him access to delicate skin. He accepted the invitation graciously, placing hot, open-mouth kisses up the long column of her neck, licking that sensitive hollow just below her ear, as the last button gave way.
Slowly, Obi-Wan trailed his fingers up her body, pulling her back to press firmly against his chest, his hot breath stuttering in her ear as she rocked her hips back against him. Finally, his hands reached her neckline, gently hooking his fingers beneath the fabric and urging it over the gentle slope of her shoulders, his lips eagerly pressed to new skin as it appeared. Arms freed from the sheer sleeves, Satine reached behind her, looping her arm around his neck to thread her fingers into his thick copper locks. With a soft hum, he urged the skirt over her hips, the dress cascading to the floor, pooling at her feet like rolling green pasture.
Naked but for the lacy silver panties still clinging to her, Obi-Wan moaned into her skin, one hand coming up to massage her breast, flicking a saber-rough thumb teasingly over her nipple, the other traveling lower, dipping below the band of her underwear.
“Ben,” Satine whimpered as he trailed his fingers through the wet heat between her legs, pressing his middle finger just barely inside before pulling out again.
“Yes, my love?” Obi-Wan purred, continuing the maddening play of his fingers, the feeling of his smile against her skin making her feel dizzy.
“Bed. Now.”
The command came out much less eloquent than she’d expected, most of the words in her mind getting lost on their way past her lips.
“Do not call me impatient,” she added hastily as she grabbed his wrist, whirling around to look up into those incredible blue eyes, swooning at the fond smile on his mouth, the rumbling laugh emanating from his chest.
“Lead the way,” he said warmly, as if following her was the easiest thing he’d ever been asked to do, trailing effortlessly behind her like he floated on air, his feet seeming to barely skim the floor.
The remaining layers fell quickly, Satine completely unable to suppress a giggle as she pulled the soft green underwear down his legs, just as she had promised him she would.
When he settled over her, his naked body pressed against hers, his eyes bright and loving and certain, she felt her breath shudder in her lungs, her only concern in the galaxy, was how long he would make her wait before he gave her everything she ever wanted, and so much more.
“Don’t call me impatient,” she repeated, reaching down between them and wrapping her fingers around his stiffening length, pumping him slowly in her hand and lining him up with her body, rolling her hips until he pressed, hot and eager to her entrance.
He didn’t make her tell him what she wanted. He didn’t make her call his name. He didn’t make her beg. There was no tease in Obi-Wan’s body as he dropped his mouth to hers, pressing slowly into her warmth, syrupy sounds of want falling from Satine’s lips as her body stretched to fit him inside.
A low hum vibrated against her lips as he moaned her name, low and needy, rolling his hips until he was sheathed fully inside her, the Duchess and the Jedi breathing each other's air as the world outside fell away completely, nothing but them and the soft sheets surrounding them.
It was slow and decadent, almost lazy in the way his body filled hers, again and again, his mouth hot on her neck as he groaned openly and wantonly against her soft skin. She could feel his desire in a way she never had before, as if finally, finally, after all this time, he was letting his guard down, opening himself to her fully, letting her see him and feel him and hear him for the wild and passionate force she’d always known him to be.
Time passed in unknowable increments, Obi-Wan and Satine wrapping endlessly around one another, stealing kisses and devouring moans as they simply enjoyed the unhurried slide of their languid lovemaking. His fingers wove between hers against the mattress as he pulled back to look at her, his eyes hooded and sparkling, cross faded on an intoxicating blend of lust and love, licking his lips before diving in for another hungry kiss.
“You are mine,” Satine whispered into the desperate cavern of his mouth, her teeth sinking into his lower lip. There was an irony in her words, her body loose and pliant, her legs wrapped around his waist, swaying languidly with the patient grind of his hips. But Obi-Wan wasn’t dominating her, he was worshiping her. He wasn’t taking her, he was giving, giving, giving, his body, his heart, his life.
“I am yours,” the Jedi agreed with a low rumbling growl, his fingers tensing in her grip, his body filling hers with adoration again and again.
And I am yours, she did not say.
Maybe one day he would say those words, stake his claim, call her his.
Maybe one day he would realize that ignoring the fact did not make it any less true.
She belonged to him, just as he belonged to her.
He couldn’t deny that.
Even if he wanted to.
Slowly, he withdrew one hand from her grip, slipping his long calloused fingers between their bodies, his thumb finding her center like it was second nature, a destination he traveled so often he could do it in his sleep. Weeks and months and years and decades couldn’t erase the map he’d made of her body, the one he’d spent countless nights drawing and redrawing, tracing every mark and crease until he knew her completely.
When he increased his pressure just slightly, Satine cried out, realizing he must be close by the way his body tensed, keeping the rhythm of his hips fixed, not wavering from that luscious languid pace, relishing the slow slide, each scorching inch bringing her closer to the stars.
The moment her body began to shake apart she felt him let go, spilling inside her, hot and needy, her muscles tightening harder around him in response, their combined pleasure ringing softly through the vast suite, followed shortly by the intimate harmony of their panting breaths.
They clung together for several minutes, Obi-Wan’s face buried in her shoulder, his beard tickling in a way she couldn’t be bothered to dislike, far too busy enjoying the gentle press of his body to hers. She smiled as he began to place delirious kisses to her neck, humming softly, letting his tongue run over her skin, tasting the salt that lingered there.
Nipping at her collarbone, his lips began to travel down her chest, both of them making small noises of loss when he pulled his body from hers. “I’m not done with you yet,” he purred in response, pulling one sensitive nipple between his teeth, pressing lightly before continuing his steady march down the plane of her stomach.
She was lost.
Lost.
Floating through space on a dream, nothing in her mind but the trail of his scorching mouth over her hip, his hands ghosting appreciatively over her skin.
When he sucked a bruise to the inside of her thigh, Satine began to return to her body, her fingers twitching where she hadn’t realized they were buried in his hair. He nipped at the same spot, the delicious pain bringing her attention to his tongue on her skin, the slow realization of his intention dawning.
“Wait,” she breathed, her body suddenly going tense beneath him. He looked up to meet her gaze, his mouth open and eyes glazed, “but you just—”
“Yes,” he laughed, the sound warm and fond, “I am aware.” He placed another kiss to her inner thigh, his beard rough against her skin as he nuzzled against her, “would you like me to stop?”
She didn’t. She really didn’t.
“No.”
“Good.”
The moan Obi-Wan breathed against her center, low and needy sent a wild shiver through her body, her fingers tightening in his hair as her head rolled back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open. He gripped her tight, fingertips almost bruising where he held her, groaning as he lapped at her folds, tongue soft and flat, savoring her like a sweet treat, the sensation of his beard rough and exciting against her skin.
“We taste incredible together,” he purred between her thighs, his voice wrecked and starving, a violent tremor rocking her body in response to his ragged tone, “I suppose I have you and your impatience to thank.”
Any protest she considered was lost in a loud moan as he dipped his pointed tongue deep inside, the coarse hair on his lip tickling that bundle of nerves between her thighs, her body already begging for a second release.
“Feels so good—,” Satine choked, the hand not in his hair gripped fiercely in the sheets, “Ben—,” his name sounded thick and desperate, “so good.”
She was certain she heard him laughing as he dove back in, hungry and wild, slipping a single finger inside as he pulled her clit into his mouth, sucking lightly, careful not to overwhelm, listening to her breath like the sound of her labored gasps were instructions to her pleasure. Curling his finger once, twice, three times was all it took, the Duchess smashing into orgasm with a strangled cry, her fingers gripped so tightly in his hair she would have been worried she might hurt him, had she been able to worry at all.
When finally her eyes reopened and she gathered her courage, Satine looked down. Obi-Wan looked feral and filthy, his hair sticking out in every direction, auburn strands plastered to the sweat on his forehead, eyes somehow blearily focused on her. The smile on his mouth was obscene, open and toothy, panting, his beard wet and matted, covered in the evidence of their lust.
He was stunning.
Immediately she was clambering for him, pulling him back up in a desperate plea to taste his lips, the eager Jedi licking into her mouth without a moment’s hesitation. It was bitter and beautiful, intimate in a way she couldn’t describe, like some primitive ritual, sharing in each other’s bodies on a level they’d never before indulged.
The feverish kiss seemed to stretch into long, endless minutes, the pace becoming slow and lazy until beguiled smiles and adoring laughs broke their lips apart, foreheads pressed together, Obi-Wan’s thumb brushing her cheek as they simply enjoyed the moment, both of them still floating in the afterglow.
There was no time to mourn the loss of his body on top of hers when he rolled away, her Jedi immediately pulling her to lay across him, her head resting on his chest, his fingers combing softly through her golden hair.
As the haze subsided, Satine’s mind began to wander through the evening. The look on his face when he’d turned around to see her for the first time, eyes wide and mouth open. The way he fixated so quickly on the stone around her neck. The way she’d felt when she caught his gaze across the room, letting the eye contact linger, a tempting smirk on his lips. They hadn’t been subtle, drawn impossibly together, powerless to resist every glance, blush, and smile. No, they had been far from careful, and she’d seen it all over his apprentice's face.
“Ben—,” Satine whispered, her head laying on his bare chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, “I think he knows.”
Beneath her, Obi-Wan stilled, the way he did when he sensed danger, his muscles tightening and his breath hitched in his lungs.
“Ben?”
Shaking his head slightly, he cleared his throat and Satine could feel his muscles relaxing from their sudden tension. “I’m sorry, Darling,” he said with an easy breath, threading his fingers through her hair, urging her to relax back into him, Satine realizing she had gone rigid as well, “could you repeat that? I was— somewhere else.”
She took a deep breath, willing her body to mold back to his, “I think he knows.”
“And I told you, I don’t care,” he replied, the laugh in his voice dancing over her skin, “would it be better to know that he knows? I will go tell him myself right now.”
A laugh broke from her lungs as Obi-Wan shifted beneath her, pretending to get out of bed, the man falling back down with a chuckle when she punched him lightly in the chest. In one swift move, the Jedi sat up, pulling her into his lap, her legs slung over his knee, capturing her mouth with his as she let out a small excited squeal. Circling her arms around his neck, she leaned into the kiss, her anxiety relaxing ever so slightly.
Tangling his fingers farther into the hair at the nape of her neck and angling her head away, Obi-Wan moved his lips to carve a blazing trail down her throat. He nipped at her collarbone, scraping his teeth along her skin, humming when she let out a soft moan. “I mean it,” he growled against her, pressing his fingertips into her flesh where he held her, “I will tell him in the morning.”
There was a serious, insistent note in his voice, honest in a way that made her shiver. He had wanted to tell Anakin everything, even when she had been unsure, but when the conversation hadn’t gone as he’d hoped, Obi-Wan had been exceedingly tight-lipped about his former Padawan. They had both hoped the young man would come to his senses, but so far, he had been determined to keep his secrets close instead of confiding in his Master. Maybe it would be best to just tell him. Maybe the young man would see it as an olive branch. Maybe he would continue to hide. Maybe this was not the time to make such decisions.
“Are you really set on the beard?”
It was a clumsy segue, the only thing she could think to say when the anxiety in her stomach seemed to strangle her throat, reaching out to stroke his furry chin. When her hand rested on his cheek, he pressed against her palm reflexively, his eyes shutting for a brief moment. The subtle gesture made her muscles relax and her heart swoon. It didn’t matter how much they’d changed, some things still felt the same.
“You said you liked it,” he complained wryly, offering a wide, cocky grin that Satine recognized.
“I said no such thing,” she replied defiantly, pulling her hand from his face and giving him an offended stare, her mouth open, and her eyebrows pinched.
“Maybe not those exact words,” he conceded, “I believe it was ‘Oh Ben, that feels so good.’”
Satine scoffed at the mocking impression, his voice pitched high, wiggling his shoulders, batting his eyelashes in a way she couldn’t help but smile at.
“That had nothing to do with that thing on your face,” she lied, feeling heat pool in her stomach just at the memory of him between her legs.
“Of course not,” he allowed, pulling her in and placing his lips gently on hers.
The soft kiss deepened quickly as Satine slung one arm around his neck, brushing lazily over his collarbone with the thumb of her free hand. Obi-Wan let out a rough groan when she opened his mouth to taste his tongue, his hands running over her skin like he needed her closer. Humming a note of desire, she moved in his lap, bringing her knees to either side of him, straddling his hips and rocking against him as she pulled him ever closer to her.
“Darling,” the Jedi smiled against her eager mouth, “I am not such a young man anymore, I’m going to need a little more time to recover.”
Easily, she returned his smile, kissing him again and biting his lip softly.
“We used to go at it like Boglings, didn’t we?” Satine laughed, rocking her hips again despite his protest, seeing the way his open smile ticked to one side. He had been like an addiction when they were younger, seizing any opportunity to delight in the pleasure of one another, something that didn’t seem to have changed much now that she thought about it. “Maintenance bays, broom closets, a river bank, several caves…” she smiled coyly, listing off a handful of their past exploits in a playful tone.
“Speeder bikes, pilots chairs, countertops—,” he added with a smile.
“The nest,” she breathed with a soft sigh.
The blush that broke across his cheeks made her heart swoon, the Jedi Master beneath her suddenly looking very much like the Padawan who had sheepishly led her to that tent the first time they’d had sex. The adoring lengths to which he had gone to make her feel comfortable, to make that night feel special, she should have known then that it was love. She should have known then that she would never be able to shake him from her bones, his body etched so deep inside of hers.
“Oh, to be young again,” he mused, his hands brushing up and down the delicate trail of her spine.
“I’m not so sure,” she breathed, leaning into him, placing a delicate kiss on his waiting lips, “I think I like old Ben Kenobi.”
“So you do like the beard,” he joked, a wide charming smile curling his lips.
“I didn’t say I liked everything,” she clarified, rolling her eyes, noting the way he seemed to soften, smiling at her almost in bewilderment. When she sat back in his lap, placing her hands on strong shoulders, she felt the distinct pressure of his stiffening desire. Raising her eyebrow suggestively, Satine rolled her hips in a small circle, biting her lower lip and moaning softly. Looking him in the eye, she lifted her hands from his shoulders and pressed her fingers into his ginger strands.
“I like this,” she purred, her lips ghosting over his, scratching her nails through his copper locks and down the back of his neck. He seemed to press into her touch, craving the scrape of her claws. She pressed harder into his skin as her fingers grazed over the sturdy line of his shoulder, “and these,” she added, spreading her fingers over his biceps, firm and swollen beneath her grip, “these are bigger than I remember.”
“So is this,” Obi-Wan retorted, his lips pulled in a roguish grin, his arms wrapped around her, fingertips pressing eagerly into the flesh of her ass.
“Excuse me?” Satine gasped, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
“Believe me, Your Highness,” he hummed against her mouth, “it is a compliment.”
Pressing his fingers into her backside, Obi-Wan dropped his lips to her neck, covering her in honeyed kisses, licking along the line of her jaw, rolling his hips, a still growing hardness pressing between her legs. Before she could get lost in his sugary ministrations, Satine pressed her hands to his chest, pushing the Jedi back into the mattress, hitting the bed with a soft sound of surprise which she muffled with a sweet, adoring kiss, leaning back before she wanted to, looking down at him splayed out beneath her, smiling and gorgeous, his bright gaze alight with something unknowable.
She did not feel the soft smile fall from her face as her eyes trailed down his body, taking in the expanse of his chest. His skin was marred with marks and scars, evidence of the life he didn’t ask for, the war that stole his future, a deep aching anger writhing in her stomach.
“There are more of these too,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers running over his chest, pausing on a scar when he flinched beneath her touch. His eyes screwed shut, the Jedi still and breathing deep, trembling ever so slightly. Satine’s heart hammered in her chest, worried she’d said something to offend him, touched on something he wasn’t ready to share with her yet. She didn’t move, unsure what to do, her mind rushing with a million possibilities, one strange thought screaming louder than the others.
Could this be…
When his eyes opened, staring up at her, she felt her worry begin to evaporate, anchored to that sparking blue ocean in his gaze. Slowly he nodded, his heart racing beneath her touch still lingering on his chest, a small sweet smile curling one corner of his mouth. Her hands began to wander again before her attention fell back to his chest, her fingers roaming over his skin. With a delicate touch, she moved from scar to scar, pausing briefly at the peak of each raised line and mark, noting them like constellations in the night sky.
“I remember this one,” she breathed, her fingers stopping on his ribs, a small round mark beneath her touch, a horrible pit in her stomach “I thought I would lose you.”
For a moment she felt as if she might be sick, her eyes squeezed shut, the memory gripping her body tight. She could see it clear as day, Obi-Wan turning pale in her arms, blood pulsing out beneath the desperate press of her hands to his ribs as she screamed for Qui-Gon, his grip on her only growing stronger as his head began to list back, his eye lids struggling to stay open.
“You thought I had been shot, you were so determined to save me that you didn’t realize you were dying in my arms,” Satine recalled, her voice breaking as she remembered the scent of his blood on her skin, “you clung to me so tightly, Qui-Gon had to use the Force to pry me from your grip.”
The name of his old Master on her lips made her heart hurt, wondering for a brief moment if he would be happy to know they had found each other again.
“Not even the Force could pull you from me now,” Obi-Wan said, placing his hand on top of hers where it lingered on his ribs, his eyes shining up at her in naked honesty, “I’m not letting go.”
Drawn to his lips like a magnet she dove down to meet him in a deep, passionate kiss, her Jedi humming against her mouth as his fingers tangled in her hair. His body trembled almost imperceptibly as she allowed him to pull her closer, melting against the hot plane of his chest.
He’s not letting go.
“Say it again,” she whispered, her mouth moving greedily against his, one hand still on the blaster bolt that had threatened to take him from her, the other curling around the back of his neck, feeling the strong muscles of his jaw slide and tense as he spoke the only three words she needed to hear.
“I love you,” Obi-Wan breathed, his voice trembling beneath her kiss, swallowing something that sounded like a sob.
“I love you, too,” Satine replied, her heart seeming to burst into a million fluttering beasts as the stoic Jedi pulled her forehead to his, fingers trembling on the back of her neck.
“I love you,” he repeated, shaking noticeably now, his voice choked and bright, a strange smile on his mouth, “I was made to love you.”
He sounded so certain, comfortable in the fact as it fell from his lips, a delighted, almost hysterical sob quaking in his chest. Mind racing, Satine clung to him, her heart thundering in her chest, nothing but frantic love radiating from the usually composed man beneath her.
Breathing her name, Obi-Wan pulled her gaze back to his, those big blue eyes glistening and cheeks streaked with salty tears. She had never seen him cry, Satine realized, it might have torn her apart but for the dreamy smile on his lips as the tears continued to fall. Somehow she understood, a sweet insistent tugging in the back of her mind, a quiet whisper telling her that this moment was next to divine.
“Your dream.”
Obi-Wan nodded, drawing in a shaking breath, his fingertips digging into her skin, his gaze so open and vulnerable, shaking slightly with an odd combination of tears and laughter.
“I saw it— that exact conversation,” he sounded dazed, his voice coated in elation and disbelief, “when I was shot— I saw us just like this, then I woke up in the crew quarters, you were asleep—.”
She hadn’t known the details of the dream, and she hadn’t wanted to, knowing full well that if there was some chance to prove to him that the Force actually wanted them together, she would go much farther than simply memorizing lines if it meant she could recreate what he had referred to as a vision.
Somehow it had never occurred to her that it would actually just… happen.
But it had.
“Satine.”
Vaguely, she heard him calling her name, his thumb brushing over her cheek. When her eyes refocused on him, he was smiling so warmly she thought she might melt.
“I did not need a sign from the Force to know that I love you,” he said it slowly, each word falling thick and sweet from his mouth, “to know that this feels right.” The way his fingers pressed into her flesh on the last word made her skin prickle beneath his possessive touch, “Satine, you were the dream from the start.”
There was nothing to say, nothing to do but press her lips to his, whimpering quietly as tears began to stream unbidden from her eyes, salty joy running down her cheeks, their kiss wet and sloppy and dripping in love.
It was an impossible thing to process, a thing like destiny, a thing so abstract as fate. It was unknowable by nature, and yet, Obi-Wan had been given a glimpse of his. Simple and mundane. A moment of time that showed him the way back to her. It was an impossible thing to belong to someone. And yet.
“I am yours,” she whispered before she could stop the words, delighting in the way he pulled her closer. Obi-Wan moaned into her mouth, shuttering beneath her before finally saying what they both knew to be true. What had been true for a very long time.
“You are mine.”