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What Happens on Corellia Stays on Corellia	By : LexiLupin Category: Star Wars (All) > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 4057 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars; I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for LoriLynn, who wanted something a little extra for the special day. ;-) Happy birthday indeed.

What Happens on Corellia…

Wedge Antilles- General Wedge Antilles- cursed as he exited the hovertaxi and found his boot entrenched in mud. As the speeder fled away down the street and Wedge threw his bag over his shoulder, it occurred to him that Coruscant- usual home of his boring desk job- did have its advantages over the home planet he had not seen nearly enough in recent years. For one thing, to find mud on Coruscant, Wedge would have to venture far lower to reach bedrock level than he had ever been on the gigantic metropolis. For another, it rarely rained on Coruscant, where the temperature and weather were generally controlled by orbital mirrors that focused and directed the heat of the system’s sun in very specific and pre-determined ways.

On Corellia, the brief dash across the street to the entrance of a small but chic apartment building sufficed to thoroughly soak his clothes, his traveling case, and Wedge himself, and so he found himself in an uncharacteristically grumpy mood as he entered the lobby, found the resident guide, located the proper apartment number and buzzed the comm.

“Wedge?” a static-laced voice asked.

“It’s me,” he verified, frowning a bit; the voice sounded a shade too deep to be Mirax’s, but perhaps it was simply the effect of the speaker.

“Come on up.”

The turbolift doors opened and he entered, trying to minimize the mud he was undoubtedly tracking into the nice complex. Without a command from him, the lift rose smoothly nine levels and then deposited him on a quiet, dimly lit floor with two doors on either side of the hall. Nine one five… he found the correct door and tapped twice.

It slid open almost instantly, and he opened his mouth to greet his former squadron mate and his childhood friend- and then stopped short, mouth hanging open ridiculously in his surprise. “Oh- hi, Iella.”

Iella Wessiri smiled lightly and glanced him over. “Hello, General,” she stepped back from the door and allowed him to enter. “How are you?” Her lips quirked as she took in his decidedly damp state, and he offered a resigned grin.

“Wet.”

“So I see.”

“Where are Corran and Mirax?”

“Ah,” Iella said briskly, “sorry. I guess they got held up with Booster, but they said they’ll be back in another hour or so.”

Well that was unfortunate; Wedge didn’t much fancy making himself at home in the unfamiliar place, but he needed to at least find space to sort out his luggage and find something suitably dry to change in to.

“Guest room’s through there,” Iella pointed after a steady pause, her eyes flickering about the room before meeting his briefly and then darting away again. If Wedge hadn’t known better, he’d have said that she almost looked… guilty. “Don’t mind my stuff if it’s in your way, just kick it aside.”

He made it two steps towards the indicated door and then stopped and turned. “Oh- are you staying over too? Sorry, I just didn’t realize you’d be here, I must have missed it…”

“No,” she assured him, “you didn’t. It was sort of last minute… Corran found out that I’d be on-planet, and when he finally wrangled it out of me that I didn’t have plans for Independence Day…” she flushed and looked down, and Wedge felt a pang of sympathy for the younger woman whose last family had been her late husband, and he had died some six years prior. “They tried to drag me to visit with Booster, but it seemed that only forcing him to deal with one former CorSec agent would be the nicest gift I could give him.”

Wedge grinned. “You might just be on to something there,” he conceded. “But if you’re staying, you should take the guest room and I’ll-”

“Wedge?” she cut him off. “Are you planning on changing in the middle of the living room?” He looked down at his forgotten, soaked vestments. “Then go change and worry about selfless acts of chivalry later, alright?”

“Certainly, milady.” She shook her head ruefully and watched him disappear through the door.

As he unpacked his travel case- finding much to his relief that only a few things were wet- Wedge pondered Iella’s presence. Sure, he’d fancied some years ago that he was attracted to her and, he hoped, that she might be to him. Complications of various natures had ensured that nothing ever come of the idea, and it had now been well over a year since he’d even seen her. Last he’d heard from Corran though, the younger pilot seemed to think that his former CorSec partner was still affected by the traumatic demise of her husband, so this hardly seemed to be the time to contemplate rekindling the interest he’d once held in Iella Wessiri.

But she looked as good as ever.

When he’d changed out of his wet jumpsuit and into a pair of black trousers and a grey tunic- and after running a towel futilely through his hair, succeeding in little besides making it stand up in every which direction- Wedge returned to the living room where Iella was curled up on one side of the sofa with a glass of what might have been some form of Corellian whiskey or brandy. She gestured to the table next to the far end of the sofa where she’d left out another glass of the amber liquid, and Wedge sat and joined her, sipping lightly at the aromatic drink.

“So how long have you been here?”

“Just since this morning,” she told him.

“And you’ve been amusing yourself adequately in the Horns’ absence?” Wedge smiled. Her eyes flickered again and her lips quirked. “Going through their things, undoubtedly, like a good New Republic Intelligence agent?”

Iella bit her lip, looked away, put her glass down, and then spoke in a rush, like she’d been trying to hold something in for hours. “Wedge, you have a sense of humor, right?”

He blinked. “I, uh… yeah, I mean we’ve known one another a while, Iella…”

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you much since your promotion. General-hood hasn’t sucked the life out of you? You still take pleasure in simple amusements?”

“When I find the time for them.”

She grinned, and the change was astounding. Not a minute ago, she’d been quiet and subdued, and now she looked, quite frankly, mischievous. Standing quickly, she reached for his hand and pulled him off the sofa; Wedge hastily set his own glass down before he spilled the liquid everywhere. “Come here,” she said breathlessly, “I want to show you something.”

“Okay…”

There was a cupboard across the room, sitting catty-cornered to the holoscreen console, and when Iella opened it, it was obviously filled with assorted holodrama disks. A quick glance suggested that it was more or less arranged by genre, with some historical documentaries on top, some dramatic-sounding titles in the middle, and some titles on the bottom that he had to assume were Mirax’s, based on the mushy images evoked simply from titles like Love at Last and One Final Kiss.

Iella turned to face him. “Mirax told me to settle in, find a couple of holos to watch while they were gone and while I was waiting for you. So after they leave, I come over here to start perusing the collection, and am about to watch something when I notice the drawer at the bottom of the shelf there.” Wedge glanced down and, sure enough, there was a small, almost hidden drawer that had previously escaped his notice. “I didn’t think much of it, and I looked inside and… well, I think Mirax forgot to lock it because…”

She giggled and handed him a disk. Still mildly perplexed, he turned it over to read the title, and then gaped.

“Tales from the Inner Rim, Volume five: Thigh-fair-a,” he read aloud. “Wow.”

Iella winked. “There’s also Volume nine: Kriff-u.”

“Ah, that’s clever.”

“Not least because both Thyferra and Kiffu are, in fact, in the Inner Rim.”

Wedge handed her the holodisk back and shook his head. “Congratulations, Agent Wessiri- a right treasure trove you’ve stumbled across here.” She laughed and replaced the two disks carefully. “So… did you watch any of them?”

Her mortified face got him going, and then they were both sitting on the floor by the small cupboard, laughing and wiping at tears of mirth at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. “You figure these are Corran’s or Mirax’s?” Iella finally managed, gasping for breath.

“Hm,” he glanced down at the hidden drawer again, considering titles. “Difficult to say from the names.”

“Maybe we will just have to watch one,” she teased. “For scientific purposes.”

“Research.”

“My thoughts exactly. Most ridiculous title wins?”

Their eyes met and the challenge was on. Hunched together over the drawer, shoulders pressed together, they scanned titles and murmured some of the more interesting ones aloud. “Oh,” Iella exclaimed, “how about this: Grand Orgasmal Thrawn.”

“Maybe…” Wedge murmured. “Tales from the Outer Rim, Volume three: Tongue’l.”

“I liked Thigh-fair-a better,” Iella muttered back. “Tales from the Deep Core.”

“What volume?”

“That’s it.”

That set them on a whole new bout of laughter, and they giggled furiously as they dug through, looking for more and more outrageous names. “Oh!” Iella exclaimed, “Thrawn’s got a set- Grand Orgasmal Thrawn and the Emperor’s Secret Whorehouse.”

“As long as the Emperor doesn’t have a supporting role,” Wedge shuddered, then spotted something and straightened. “Oho, I have our winner. Part three of the Thrawn collection: Grand Orgasmal Thrawn and the Battle at Bilbangi.”

“Winner,” she declared instantly, and Wedge slid the disk from the drawer and stood. He was about to insert it into the holoscreen when Iella got his attention. “Wait a minute… what’s this…?” He glanced around. “There’s one here without a title. What do you think?”

Wedge considered carefully. “The way I see it,” he decided, “it’s one of three things: mis-sorted, really bad, or really good.”

“I’d say that gives us a two-thirds chance of hilarity then.”

“Agreed.” He swapped disks with her. “In case of miscalculation, Grand Orgasmal Thrawn can be our backup.”

“Agreed; a fine partnership we make, General Antilles.”

As they settled back on the sofa, much closer together now, Wedge had a sudden thought and, chuckling, he turned to Iella who seemed to be trying to contain her laughter once more. “You know, there might be a fourth possibility we need to consider.” Her brows quirked curiously. “But… nah,” he shrugged, looking back towards the screen as the disk loaded, “they wouldn’t…” he stopped, eyes going wide. “Sweet Force, yes they would.”

“And did,” Iella supplied cheerfully, and then paused. She cocked her head to the side. “Jedi training is really doing wonders for Corran’s physique…”

“Turn it off, turn it off!”

“Well that’s not very nice, I think I’d be insulted if- wow, Mirax is flexible.”

Wedge groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“She’s got a pretty nice body too,” Iella mused.

Muttering to himself, it took a moment for her words to catch up to him, and he glanced up dumbly. “What?”

She laughed and then turned off the holoscreen. “You men. You’re shocked and appalled until I make a simple and innocent comment, and suddenly you’ve got images of me and Mirax floating in your tiny little brain.”

“That’s not fair, I never-! Shavit,” he swore, “now I have that image in my head!”

Iella smirked and winked. “In your dreams, flyboy.”

“Hey,” he pointed an accusing finger at her, “that’s General flyboy to you.”

“Which volume?”

“How many do you need?”

“Tales from the Fleet: General Flyboy and the Death Star Wench Run?”

He grinned. “Sadly, General Flyboy only had a supporting role in that flick. It was Luke who did all the delicate, ah…”

“Insertion?”

“Death Star Two: It’s a Trap.”

She frowned. “Well that’s not very dirty.”

“Oh,” he looked at her in surprise, “I just think it’d make a fine holo.”

Iella smacked his arm. “You’re utterly shameless.”

“You’re the one looking through Corran and Mirax’s collection of dirty holodramas!”

A look of consternation flitted across her face. “Hm- you’re right. I hate it when I’m rightly contradicted by space jockeys.”

Wedge smiled at her winningly. “But I haven’t been a space jockey in a few years, you know…”

“Maybe you are worth my time then,” she teased him softly. Their eyes met, bright hazel against deep brown, and Wedge swallowed thickly; the apartment suddenly seemed a bit hotter than it had been a minute ago.

He placed a hand gently on one of hers. “If becoming a general doesn’t make me respectable, I suspect nothing will,” he assured her quietly. Her large eyes blinked slowly, unsurely, and he reached a hand out to brush a loose lock of hair out of her face. “I’ve missed seeing you around, Iella.”

Slowly closing the remaining distance between them, he brushed his lips against hers; when he started to pull away again, she jolted into action and pulled him back, kissing him more firmly, sending little tingling sparks racing along Wedge’s every nerve. And in that moment, as she scooted closer and his arms went around her waist, as he held her lithe body against him, he knew that he’d been waiting for this for years, knew that he’d been a fool to let the distance come between them in the first place.

Abandoning all caution and pretense, Iella pulled herself up into his lap as she deepened the kiss; his hands came up to stroke her back and her sides as he lowered them back on the sofa, their lips never separating while their hands did all the exploring. And as he felt warm hands slide under the hem of his tunic, making him gasp in surprise…

“Oh, no- not the Jedi!”

“Do you know the punishment for smuggling ‘round these parts, Ms. Terrik?”

“Please,” Mirax’s pleading voice begged, “I’ll do anything! Just don’t send me to Kessel!”

“Well…” Corran’s voice was unnaturally deep, “Anything?”

Wedge groaned. “Turn it off!”

Iella was laughing, still straddling him, her face buried against his shoulder. “You’re sitting on it.”

“What?”

“The controller, Wedge- you’re sitting on it.”

“Oh.” His face went pink and he reached for the hard lump against the small of his back; something he probably would have noticed, under normal circumstances. He, however, did not find having Iella Wessiri pressed up against him to be normal circumstances. “Right.”

“I’ve always heard that the Jedi are very… impressive.”

“That’ll be enough flattery from-”

The screen went mercifully blank again, and Wedge threw the control device onto the table next to his long-forgotten drink. For a long moment, the two stared at each other, still in a highly compromising position, but the lustful need of the moment broken. He was about to suggest that it might be prudent to resume their former seating arrangements, when the sound of voices outside the door sent Iella scrambling up and off of him. Wedge threw a quick glance over at the cupboard and saw, to his great relief, that Iella had shut it properly when they’d finished going through it.

When Corran and Mirax walked into the apartment, the two of them were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa in complete silence, unconsumed glasses of whiskey in their hands, looking steadfastly in any direction save at one another.

Wedge hurriedly set his drink on the table once more and got to his feet. Mirax smiled brightly at him, and Wedge smiled back while trying to banish from his mind the brief glimpse of Mirax in less-than-adequate attire from the holo. “Sorry we’re late,” she apologized to them both. “You know how my father can be.”

“I do,” Wedge managed as she pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s no bother though.”

“Good thing Iella was here to let you in,” Corran agreed as he came forward and gave Wedge a firm handshake and half-hug. “It’s great to see you, Wedge. How’s Starfighter Command treating you?”

“Having flown a starfighter in an unruly squadron, what do you think?” Wedge countered. “How’s the leave of absence treating you?”

Corran had left Rogue squadron several months prior to undergo Jedi training and hunt down his kidnapped wife. Now, the two were enjoying a half year of the simple life to refocus on their marriage after those stressful events. Apparently, Wedge thought idly, they were focusing especially on certain… physical aspects of their relationship.

And then he tried desperately to remove the thought from his head before his Jedi friend picked up on it.

“So we, of course, have a ryshcate,” Mirax continued, oblivious to Wedge’s momentary discomfort, “and plenty of Whyren’s to celebrate our first Independence Day back on a Diktat-free Corellia.” She smiled around at them all. “I know that the rest of you haven’t been able to see much of your home planet since becoming involved in the Rebellion and the New Republic, and I’ve not seen it much more… but we’re all fortunate enough to be able to be here together now, free from the fear of Imperial persecution.”

“Or CorSec persecution,” Corran commented lowly.

Mirax grinned. “He’s just stressed out after dealing with my father’s snide comments all afternoon.” Corran nodded wearily. “So you three just get comfortable,” she pushed her husband over towards the sofa where Iella was still sitting, “and I’ll have dinner ready to go in no time.”

Iella moved to the center of the sofa so that Wedge and Corran could sit on either side of her. “So,” she tilted her head up to look at her former crime-fighting partner, “is this going to become an annual tradition? The Horn family holiday gathering of exiled Corellian misfits?”

“Hey,” he sounded hurt, “you two are like family, after how long Wedge and Mirax have known one another…”

“And how well you and I know one another?” Iella poked his stomach and he grinned winningly.

Wedge eyed the two of them curiously for a moment. It was a side of Corran and Iella’s long friendship and partnership he’d never considered… but just how well did they know each other? Well enough, he supposed, for her to realize that Corran had shaped up since becoming a Jedi. Wedge found himself scowling slightly with that thought

Iella glanced and him and laughed. “Wedge Antilles, you should see your face. Anyway… what happens in CorSec stays in CorSec.” His scowl deepened.

“Iella,” Corran tilted his head and regarded her strangely, “when did you get to be such a tease? Leave Wedge alone. And,” he added in a loud aside to his former commander, “she’s pulling your leg- while the façade of a relationship was required for certain aspects of undercover work, it was strictly for public appearances.”

“You don’t let me have any fun,” Iella pouted while discreetly sliding a hand over to rest on Wedge’s thigh. “Anyway, I suppose it’s only fair; after all, we wouldn’t want to suddenly hear about how Wedge and Mirax’s relationship wasn’t always that of innocent sibling-like affection, now would we…?”

Laughing lightly, she stood and sauntered off to the kitchen, leaving Corran staring suspiciously at Wedge and Wedge staring at Iella in betrayal.

Dodging out of the way as Mirax carried a bottle of Whyren’s Reserve to the table, Iella leaned against a counter and crossed her arms as she watched the dark-haired woman. “Need any help?” she asked, looking around at the sizeable quantity of food she, Mirax, and Corran had concocted earlier than day before the Horns went to visit with Mirax’s father.

“Can you just grab that tray of endwa kabobs there…? Yeah,” she said breathlessly, rearranging a couple of serving dishes on the table. “Thanks. So,” she wiped her hands on a cloth and brushed her hair out of her eyes, “have any trouble passing the time with Wedge while you were waiting for us?”

Iella’s mouth went dry as she tried to answer the question without sounding guilty. “Oh- no, of course not. I mean, I haven’t seen that much of him since I went into Intelligence and he finally accepted his promotion, but he’s still… you know…”

“The same old Wedge?”

“Something like that.”

Mirax gave her a knowing smile as she poured drinks for the four of them. Iella smiled right back, wondering just how the other woman would feel if she’d realized that her houseguests had stumbled across the hidden collection of holos… the hidden collection of holos with that one unlabeled one that was…

…still in the holoscreen. She froze.

“…ella?”

“Hm?” she turned and stared dumbly.

“Will you go and get the boys in here?”

“Oh,” she blinked. “Sure.” She went to the doorway and smiled sweetly. “Dinner is served.” Corran still looked suspicious, though Wedge just looked helpless, and they both stood and headed to the little dining area on the far side of the kitchen. Iella stopped Wedge in the doorway though and muttered under her breath, “The holofilm, Wedge.”

“Huh?”

“The holo, Antilles,” she ground out. “It’s still out.”

His eyes widened, but a quick look over her shoulder showed Mirax watching them in mild confusion, so he leaned down and kissed her cheek quickly and steered her around to enjoy dinner. They could worry about this potentially embarrassing… potentially catastrophic… realization later.

X---X---X---X

Two hours and several glasses of Whyren’s apiece later, the four of them finally retired from a messy and cluttered kitchen, leaving the cleaning up for a more sober time. Corran sat down in a squashy armchair, and Mirax clambered boldly into his lap, relaxing comfortably against him and sighing contentedly. On the sofa, Wedge was pleasantly surprised when Iella leaned cozily against him, and his arm went automatically around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“I forgot,” he murmured, voice heavy with tiredness induced from too much food and too much alcohol, “how good a home-cooked Corellian meal could be. Myra, you outdid yourself.”

“Hm,” she sighed, “I had my helpers… who bickered over whether a proper ryshcate contained three or four grams of vweilu nuts when everyone knows that it’s five grams…” Corran and Iella looked appropriately subdued; indeed, the pastry had been delicious and baked to perfection. “No, you’re right, Wedge- I’m pretty much the best, aren’t I?”

“Modest too,” Corran kissed her cheek. Mirax turned her head and snuck a quick kiss on the lips, her cheeks pink as she grinned lovingly at him.

Wedge cocked a sardonic brow. “I’m glad they invited someone else along,” he commented in a loud whisper to Iella. “Now instead of feeling like the odd man out, I have someone to make fun of the lovebirds with.”

Corran gave them a half-hearted glare, even as he drew his arms tighter around his wife. “Fine, fine- if that’s how it’s going to be-”

“We could always compete,” Mirax offered brightly. “Who can be the most sickening lovebirds.”

“Ah,” Iella held up a finger and spoke solemnly. “You’re married; Wedge and I haven’t even seen one another in more than a year. I think you have an unfair advantage.”

Wedge didn’t bother pointing out the unfortunate fact that, not only were Mirax and Corran married, but he and Iella weren’t even a couple. At the moment, having her curled up comfortably against his side was doing wonders for his libido and his decidedly hazy mind could wander wherever it pleased.

“She has a point,” Corran conceded. “So going back to my more reasonable suggestion as, apparently, the only remotely sober person left here…”

“Jedi,” Mirax muttered darkly.

“…why don’t we put in a holo to fall asleep to?”

“No!”

Mirax sat up and she and Corran stared in confusion at Wedge and Iella, who looked guiltily at one another, glanced to the vidscreen, and then over to the married couple in the armchair. “Sorry,” Wedge shook his head to clear it. “It’s just that Iella was watching a really bad romance holo when I walked in. That one with the stupid name… something about a sunset…”

Iella glared at him, but Mirax considered a moment. “Twilight?” she asked.

“That’s it,” he agreed readily. “Anyway, the acting was so bad,” Corran nodded weary agreement, ignoring Mirax’s scowl, “I forbade her from watching any more in my presence.”

Corran nodded bemusedly. “That’s fine and all but… why don’t we just pick out a new one?”

He clapped his hand to his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I’ll just-”

“I got it!” Iella declared, dashing up and crossing over to the holoscreen to remove the offending holodisk. Opening the cupboard, she mimicked putting it back somewhere towards the bottom, though Wedge thought he saw her slip it into her pocket and supposed that she’d return it to the proper drawer in the middle of the night or some such. “What should we watch?”

X---X---X---X

Mirax was asleep in under half an hour. Corran chuckled and turned off the holodrama, suppressing a yawn of his own at the same time. Iella twisted around to peer up at Wedge from where her head was resting by his knee, dislodging the hand that had been absently stroking her light blonde hair for the past fifteen minutes. “Are we going to have to duke it out now, Mr. Chivalry?”

Stretching his arms out over his head, Corran laughed. “Even a Corellian wouldn’t put a bet on the outcome of that argument; or maybe I’m just too tired to think it through. In any case,” he gently positioned Mirax so he could get a hand under her knees and another around her shoulders, “whichever of you ends up sleeping on the sofa, there’s a set of blankets and pillows in the closet in the spare room there.” He stood with his dozing wife and headed for the other bedroom. “You know where the kitchen is, in case of emergency.”

When they had disappeared, Wedge gestured forlornly in the direction of the Horns’ bedroom. “Looks like I’m outdone in the chivalry department; Corran uses his super-human Jedi-strength to carry his wife to bed.”

Iella sat up and cocked her head a moment, considering him. Then she stood and pulled him up with her. “I don’t think we need to worry about it.”

“Oh?”

“No,” she led the way through to the guest room. “A few years of sitting behind a desk haven’t wreaked that much havoc on your figure.”

“Sorry?” he frowned bemusedly.

She pushed the door closed behind them and smiled softly, looking up at him through long lashes. “It’s a big bed, Wedge. I think we’ll both fit quite comfortably on it, don’t you?”

He had to admit that she had a point.

For a brief but ridiculous moment, Wedge wondered what Mirax and Corran would say if either left their room in the middle of the night and realized that Wedge and Iella had solved the question of who got the bed by both taking the bed… but then he remembered the very important fact that they weren’t a couple of trouble-making teenagers sneaking off under their parents’ noses. In fact- when Corran returned to Rogue squadron, he’d have Wedge to answer to, which, as the general saw it, meant that he could pretty much do whatever he damn well pleased.

And as Iella reemerged from the refresher, he changed that thought automatically to whomever instead.

She was in his arms in an instant, and he wasn’t entirely sure which one had initiated the contact as he held her face gently and pressed his lips to hers, as his hands snaked down to the small of her back and pulled her flush against him. The hem of her sleeveless sleep shirt was just a shade too high, revealing the slightest bit of her midriff above the waist of shorts that would have been on the cusp of indecently short in public. His fingers ghosted across that small strip of bared skin, making her shudder under his touch.

“You,” Wedge groaned, “have been a shameless tease all evening…”

Standing on tiptoes, she brought her mouth close by his ear, tongue darting out to lick around the edge before she nibbled lightly at the lobe. “I could go, if you’d prefer…”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, turning them so that her back was to the bed. He tilted her head back and seized her lips in a bruising kiss before pushing her lightly back, so that her knees hit the bed and she tumbled down, giggling lightly. Impatient with the clothing still in the way, he pulled his tunic over his head and cast it aside before following her onto the bed, pinning her body with his heavier weight, one hand holding her hip firmly, the other caressing her stomach and teasing along the underside of her breasts.

Quickly frustrated by the barrier preventing him from seeing more of her, he stood again and pulled her to a sitting position so he could pull the hem of her shirt up over her head; the sight of her half-naked body, lust-hazed eyes, disheveled hair… Wedge groaned again as he stared at her- and then nearly lost it when she reached for the belt of his trousers and deftly undid it before attacking the fastenings.

Not to be outdone, he stopped her before she succeeding in fully divesting him of his pants, and pushed her back to the bed, more gently this time. His lips sought out her neck and throat, and trailed kisses down her body as one hand slowly massaged her breasts. After kissing his way to her navel and back, he took one nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly as she gasped and writhed beneath him, movements furthering his own need and desire for her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Wedge told her lowly when he finished lavishing his attention across her breasts, hips, and stomach. “I’ve always thought so. Beautiful and smart and fun-”

“Wedge?” she managed.

“Yes?” he asked huskily.

“I appreciate the sentiment, truly,” she told him in a strained voice. “But the timing is awful.”

“Right,” he acknowledged, fingers playing with the edge of her shorts. He was about to slide them over her hips, when a sudden unfortunate thought occurred to his lust-addled mind. “Are you drunk?”

She licked her lips and frowned. “Buzzed,” she answered after a moment of serious consideration. “Maybe a bit tipsy still.” She sat up and rose to her knees so that they were almost at eye level. “Why?” she asked softly, hands creeping down his chest, going back to their abandoned earlier work of ridding him of his trousers. “Afraid I’ll…” she brushed her hand across his erection, “…take advantage of you?”

He bit his lip to stop the groan. “I’ve just never seen you so… inhibition-less,” he told her honestly.

“Oh,” a brow rose smoothly and she peered up at him from under hooded lids, “that has nothing to do with the alcohol. The truth of the matter is…” she began shimmying his pants over his hips and he knew he didn’t stand a chance, “…I just want you, Wedge Antilles.”

“I can work with that,” he decided an instant before the hot moisture of her tongue darting out to tease the tip of his length drove any potential for further intelligent speech from his mind. For maximum efficiency and time-effectiveness, he assisted her endeavors of ridding him of what remained of his clothing, and then turned to sit on the bed, pulling her to stand between his legs, hands caressing down her sides as he leaned forward and planted fluttering kisses across the flat, smooth skin of her midriff. His fingers found the waistband of her shorts once more and he pulled them slowly down her legs, kissing his way slowly down to her pubic bone, breathing in the musky scent of her arousal.

Her hands on his shoulders pushed him away, but his objections were quelled when she slowly climbed up on the bed, straddling his waist. There was no pretense between them, and Wedge sensed that Iella’s pent-up frustration- probably originating from some three hours prior when they’d briefly lost control on the sofa- made her impatient and determined to just take what she wanted.

Not that he saw any problems with this- especially not as she lowered herself slowly onto him and he inhaled sharply, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arms around her slender frame as she adjusted to the size and feel of him and he struggled to maintain a semblance of control. His hands came down to cup her ass and he found his mouth soon occupied with a thorough kiss as she began to slowly pull herself up and sink down again, sighing softly when she buried her face against his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin as she playfully nibbled at him.

“Have I mentioned,” Wedge gasped out as Iella forcefully rode him, grinding her pelvis against him with each downward motion, “how glad I am… that Mirax and Corran… made you come over?”

She grinned playfully at him as she slowed her pace once more. “You didn’t have to,” she whispered. “It’s, ah… pretty obvious.” She punctuated the last word by again sinking forcefully back down on him, and he growled deep in his throat, tightened his grip on her, and rolled them around so that they were fully on the bed and she was pinned beneath him. The part of his brain that was still functional enough to care about such things was impressed that he executed the maneuver without once unsheathing himself from her delightful tight warmth. “Pretty aggressive of you, General flyboy,” she commented breathlessly as he gripped one of her legs under the knee and drew it up, allowing himself to thrust deeper.

“You,” he grunted, “have been the aggressive one tonight, Miss Iella.” She let out a small shriek as he took her deeper and harder, and then put a hand to her mouth as she laughingly tried to keep quiet, lest they wake their hosts. “Perhaps I’m simply… ungh… teaching you… a lesson.”

She wrapped her free leg around his hips and struggled for control, preventing him from continuing to thrust at the furious pace he’d set, drawing him down to her instead so she could murmur in his ear. “I’m a pretty bad student, General Antilles. The lesson might require some extra hard work- on both our parts. Perhaps some remedial tutoring at a later point in time.”

“You better believe it.”

Her fingernails scraped lightly down his back and across his buttocks, making him shiver involuntarily as she claimed his mouth once more, her tongue flickering out to move against his, and to run sensually along his lower lip as he moved with short, deep thrusts. Releasing the leg he’d been holding, he ran a hand across her body, teasing and pinching her pert nipples, tickling along her ribs and belly, finally sliding between their bodies and finding that little spot…

Iella tried desperately to curtail another shriek as his fingers moved against her deftly even as he continued driving her higher with hard and deep thrusts. Her eyes narrowed and almost closed as she threw her head back against the pillows, mouth working soundlessly as her hands pulled at his hips, urging him faster and deeper.

Wedge obliged, almost withdrawing from her completely before slamming back and burying himself to the hilt. After the third such repetition, he felt the tensing of her muscles, saw the shudders beginning to take hold of her as he rubbed her center gently, slowing his movements as he felt the contractions of her inner muscles beginning to pulse around him, urging his own release with hers, threatening to pull him over the edge too.

He stilled inside her as she cried out softly and writhed wantonly beneath him, gasping when he lowered his mouth to her chest and gently sucked at one taut and sensitive nipple, free hand teasing the other with the pad of his thumb. He did not relent in his ministrations until she stopped shuddering around him and lay back, wide-eyed, slack-mouthed, and exhausted.

Such as it was, Wedge wasn’t done with her yet. For the moment, she seemed oblivious to most everything around her, but once he withdrew, it seemed to register to Iella that he had not yet found his own release, and she blinked up at him, still at a loss for words. “I don’t think the lesson is learnt yet,” he told her softly, reaching under her body and turning her to her side, lowering himself onto his side behind her and drawing one leg up over his to grant him better access to slide inside her once more.

She cried out, nerves incredibly sensitive from her still-receding orgasm, and Wedge held himself still, buried deep inside her, and drew her into his arms, snaking one arm beneath her body as he planted soft kisses along her shoulders and upper back before slowly taking her, a wholly different type of passion fueling him than the frenzied desire which had defined the beginning of their encounter. Pulling her golden brown hair over her shoulder, he leaned over and ran his tongue lightly along the outer shell of her ear before whispering lowly to her, “Why did I ever let you get away?”

Iella moaned as their bodies moved in tandem, as each thrust of his hips sent a new jolt of desire through her. “Because you cared about me,” she murmured back, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. “Because you knew it could never work between us, back then.”

Sensing that he’d be unable to hold back much longer, Wedge abandoned the potentially-vital conversation in favor of having it during a time he might actually remember what was said- in other words, when he wasn’t approaching his climax during his first sexual encounter with a woman he’d wanted for years. “I’m close,” he murmured against her, pace of his thrusts growing faster and more erratic.

She twisted her head around to kiss him full on the lips, and he pulled her hard against him one last time, gasping into her mouth as he stilled and his cock pulsed deep inside her.

For a long minute, they lie like that, her back pressed up against his chest, leg still thrown over his, breathing heavily. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on both of their bodies, even as Iella shivered against him- a shiver that Wedge suspected had little to do with the temperate of the room, hot or cold. Sighing contentedly, he pulled away from her and pushed gently on her shoulder, urging her over onto her back. She lay there, staring up at him with wide, brown eyes, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, still trying to control her breathing once more.

Wedge propped himself up on one elbow and brushed sweaty locks away from her face before leaning down to kiss her forehead, her cheek, along her jaw line, the tip of her nose, finally pecking her lips lightly before asking lowly, “What about now? Will it work between us?”

“Well,” she murmured quietly back, “we still seem to mesh mentally, we’ve both got a decent sense of humor it seems. We have common roots, something that will always allow us to relate to one another at a most basic level. We both live on Coruscant, which gives us the virtue of proximity to one another. Which just leaves… physical compatibility. What do you think?”

“About our physical compatibility? It certainly looked alright from my side of things.”

She grinned. “Just ‘alright’? Hm- perhaps we’ll have to further investigate that matter… just to be certain, you understand.”

“Research?”

“Quite right,” she closed her eyes and smiled easily. “And I can be a very devoted academic, when the situation warrants it.”

“And I look forward to witnessing it firsthand,” he promised. “But for now…”

“Sleep?” she suggested. He nodded and tried to suppress a yawn. Iella closed her eyes and relaxed back against the pillows.

Wedge watched her a moment- she was beautiful, lying there relaxed and carefree, yet with her hair disheveled and a soft smile still touching her lips. He settled down beside her, one arm thrown across her waist, and nuzzled into her hair. “’ella?”

“Hm?”

“So which of us gets the bed tonight?”

She playfully elbowed him in the stomach.

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What Happens on Corellia Stays on Corellia