His Master's Voice

by Vermillion Flame (vermillion_flame@hotmail.com)

Series: companion piece to Secret Obsession, but it will stand alone

Archive: Yes to M_A; others please just let me know, I'd be flattered

Category: POV, Romance, PWP

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: none, just wholesome Jedi sex

Pairing: Q/O

Summary: Obi-Wan is trying to study, but his master proves to be a pleasant distraction.

Feedback: Any and all, please!!!

Notes: The first part of this story was a holiday gift for my sweet padawan, Calypte. She wanted to share it with the list, so here 'tis. Many, many thanks to my faithful beta-readers, michelle and Amber Biles (who beta'd despite being struck by the Sith virus).

I stare at the vidscreen, redoubling my efforts to concentrate on the study problem that has been taunting me for the past half of an hour. The problem itself is not difficult. I know I could solve it if I could only muster sufficient attention.

The difficulty lies in the distraction he presents. Even though I cannot see him, sitting at the work station in our common room filing a holo report, I can hear him, and therein lies my true problem. I am obsessed by the sound of my master's voice.

From the time I became Qui-Gon's apprentice, that voice has been at the center of my life. I have become conditioned to respond to its many nuances.

I have long heard the pride and support in his tone as he directs my training. When I hear the touch of exasperation, I know I am pushing the limits of even a Jedi Master's patience. I recognize the unique resonance anywhere when he calls for me, even amidst the chaos of our more dire missions. His voice has scolded, guided, encouraged and angered me. In many ways, it embodies the complexity of the Force.

But now that we are lovers, there is another dimension to my fascination. I find his voice to be the most erotic of stimulants. I lean my head back and close my eyes, giving up the fruitless effort at my studies.

I cannot make out the individual words he speaks, but I easily lose myself in the cadence and rhythm. The timbre cuts to my soul, touching the inner place where only he is allowed.

If I concentrate hard enough, I swear I can feel the sound waves as they reach me, enveloping my body like a second skin. They are an auditory caress, and I realize I am becoming aroused.

My imagination can easily turn the indistinct tones to the words of our passion. I shall never tire of listening to the voice strong enough to challenge the Jedi Council as it instead whispers words of love, just for me. I relish the moment when his smooth, rich tones turn husky with desire, preceding a demanding kiss. When he cries out in release, it is nearly always my undoing.

His voice stops suddenly, and I feel I have been deprived of a basic life element. I need more. Looking back down at the vidscreen, an idea occurs to me. If I am careful, he may not see through my manipulation.

"Master?" I call out, hoping I am not interrupting some important task, but too selfish to stop my little deceit.

Qui-Gon's large form fills the doorway to the bedroom as I am treated to both his voice and his presence. "Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Would you mind helping me with this problem? I'm trying to catch up on the radioisotope theory classes I missed while we were away."

He pulls up a stool and leans over the screen. "I will try, Padawan, but this was not my best subject."

After a moment's consideration, he begins a logical explanation of the concepts underlying the problem. I listen for a few seconds, but am soon lost in fascination, focusing on his lips and the sounds coming from them. I feel my degree of arousal increase.

Vaguely I am aware that he is wrapping up his analysis. I murmur the appropriate response. "I understand now. Thank you, Master."

Why do his eyebrows raise, silently questioning me? Qui-Gon's final words suddenly register in my brain with a shock. "...and that is why Master Windu had purple hair today."

I catch my breath as I blush all the way to the tips of my ears.

"Padawan? What is going on in that wicked brain of yours?" This is spoken in the 'I will be tolerant' tone I have helped him cultivate over the years.

I squirm in my seat, looking down at the vidscreen. I don't want to lie, but how can I tell him? Any excuse for my behavior sounds ludicrous even to me.

He can sense me casting around for an explanation, and pulls my chin up with one finger. His eyes penetrate mine. "Obi-Wan, sometimes the best answer is the simple truth."

I shiver when he says my name. I suppose it is time to confess.

"It's your voice."

I see the confusion on his face. He really has no idea how seductive he sounds. "What is wrong with my voice?"

"Nothing, Master! I find your voice to be ... erotic." My cheeks flame as I admit my secret.

He blinks, surprised. "Erotic? When I am explaining radioisotope theory?"

I can tell he is listening to himself now, trying to objectively assess his own words.

"When you say anything, Qui-Gon. It's the way you speak more than what you say. Your voice excites me like nothing else. I swear, I could come just from listening to you."

His eyebrow arches and a sly grin spreads across his lips. It's the sultry voice now. "Really, Padawan? That sounds like a challenge."

My eyes go wide, and all I can think is, 'Uh-oh.'

He thinks my voice is erotic? My ashes-and-gravel voice? Well, if this is his obsession, I am only too happy to feed it.

"Really, Padawan? That sounds like a challenge." His eyes flare.

"Stand up, Obi-Wan."

I see him shiver a bit as he rises, looking just a tad wary. Is that dread or excitement I see? Perhaps a little of both.

"I want you to do exactly as I say. Nothing more and nothing less. Understood?"

"Yes, Master." He is definitely quivering now.

"Walk over to the bed, turn and face me." He does, with just a hint of a saunter to his step. He just can't help himself, can he?

I let him stand for several full minutes as my gaze rakes over his form. He is excited, but unshaken by my examination, confident in his body.

"Even fully clothed, you radiate sexuality, my love. But I want to see all of you. Take off your clothes. Slowly."

He disrobes, gradually exposing more of his luscious skin to my eyes. He is definitely enjoying my attention, making this into a bit of a performance. He glances up as he progresses, thinking he is teasing me, but he will be the one to beg before the evening is over.

When his leggings come off, I see he is excited by the preliminaries. My own body is beginning to stir at the sight of him. I feel a small shudder work its way from my shoulders to my groin, turning into a spreading warmth.

"On to the bed, please Obi-Wan. On your back, hands at your sides."

He reclines gracefully on the edge of our bed. I move the stool on which I've remained sitting over to the side of the bed, and lean forward so that I am close to him, but not touching.

"Close your eyes." With a last hungry look cast in my direction, he complies.

I look down at his lovely, strong hands. I will feed his obsession, but there is no reason that I cannot first give myself a treat.

"I want you to move both your hands to your neck. That's right. Now, stroke down to your chest. Softly, lovingly." He follows my instructions, gently caressing his own neck, moving lower until his hands are passing back and forth over his upper chest. Strong hands on the muscular expanse.

"Now with the tips of your fingers, caress your nipples." He gives a sigh of pleasure as he plays with the nubs on his chest. "Pinch them." He gives a token squeeze to each, but not what I had intended.

"Pinch them hard! Like I would do it, " I command him. The tone of my voice makes him open his eyes to check my expression.

"I told you to keep your eyes closed, Padawan," I scold. "Now do as I say." His eyes shut and he does pinch hard - enough to cause a pleasurable pain. I hear a sharp intake of breath in response, and his chest arches. I know he is imagining my hands on him, and I respond increasingly to his excitement.

"Very good, my Obi-Wan."

He sneaks a peak at me again, and I must reprimand him. "The challenge here involves my voice, not my facial expression. If you can't keep your eyes closed, I shall have to blindfold you."

With that suggestion, his eyes snap open reflexively and a surge of lust travels across our bond.

I smile, leaning over until my face is very close to his. "Oh, you like that idea?"

"Yes, Master," he whispers coarsely.

I cross the room to the drawer in which I keep my older clothes, and after a moment's search find a piece of soft, dark fabric from a discarded tunic. I return to the bed, and tie the cloth around Obi-Wan's eyes, touching him only as much as I must to accomplish the task. I tie the blindfold tight enough to make him mindful of its presence, but not so tight that it hurts. He squirms a bit, excited by the unfamiliar.

"Now Obi-Wan, we can continue." I take my place back on the stool.

"I believe you were caressing your chest. Please continue." He hands snake across his chest, making his nipples peak. He begins to rock his hips.

"Is that good, Obi-Wan? Do the callouses on your fingers feel good against your skin?"

"Yes, Master," he sighs. He is right, I know. My own breath becomes harsh at the memory of his hands working their way across my chest. I love to feel their roughness stroking me to excitement. But I must focus on the challenge before me.

"Move lower now, to your abdomen. Rub hard across your exquisite tight muscles, and down along your hips. Show me how strong your hands are." He works his fingers brusquely across his well-toned stomach and hips. I watch as if hypnotized, enchanted by his sensuality. I wish those hands were working over me. After several long moments, I rouse myself from my reverie.

I can no longer ignore his full erection, which he has begun to thrust rhythmically as I direct his movements. "You are aroused, aren't you, my love? Do you want to move lower? Do you want to touch yourself there?"

He nods and moans.

"Very well. With one finger, stroke the underside of your penis. Rub lightly, moving up from the base to the tip." His hand trembles slightly and his pelvis undulates, trying to meet a greater need than one finger will satisfy.

"Do you feel the softness of your skin?" I whisper. "So wonderful to touch. The softest silk in the universe cannot compare to the feel of your cock, Obi-Wan. Now use that one finger to circle the head of your erection."

His movements get ambitious, and I must restrain them. "Softly, Obi-Wan. Just a touch to feel the craving that I know when I touch you."

I lean over for a closer examination. I know he can feel the warmth of my breath, even though the blindfold prevents him from watching. "Ah, I see a pearly drop at the tip. I want you to collect that drop on your finger."

I move back as he does so, his hand awaiting further direction.

"Now put it in your mouth. Suck your finger with your warm lovely tongue. Taste yourself, and know the intoxication I feel when I taste you." He sucks eagerly, moaning at the flavor of himself.

"Put your hands at your sides, now, Obi-Wan." He follows my direction, but continues a slight movement, rocking his hips as he licks his lips. He turns his face towards mine, even though the blindfold prevents him from seeing.

I sit back on the stool to get a fuller look at the vision before me. Now I will find out if I can meet this challenge, if my words can bring him to completion.

"Let me tell you what I see. You lie on our bed, your body exuding arousal. Your hair is tousled and your braid is damp against your chest. I want to pick it up and brush it against my lips, use it to caress my face."

My own hips have started a slight movement, matching his.

"Your cheeks are flushed. The color rises to disappear under the rough fabric of the blindfold. Your lips are parted, and I see your tongue dip out to wet them. Your breath comes harshly out of your body. The dimple in your chin calls to me, begging to be licked."

"I see the curve of your neck, covered with a sheen of sweat. I want to bite the delicate spot just where your neck meets your shoulder. I want to bite it hard, so that it leaves a mark."

His head tips back as I say these words, exposing himself to me. "Yes, Qui-Gon!" is his breathy response.

"The muscles of your chest and abdomen are hard. They show me your strength. They show me your dedication and discipline. I yearn to rub my rough hands across them, testing their firmness, knowing that you have the power of a trained warrior, but it is leashed under my touch."

"Your nipples are hard. I want to rub my tongue over one, take it into my mouth and suck it hard until you cry out and squirm. I would pinch the other harshly between my thumb and finger. Such sensitive spots on that beautiful chest."

He gasps, and little whimpers escape from his lips. I smile as I note my progress.

"Your hips move with the power of your excitement. I am fascinated by them. I love to watch them move, as you walk, as you run, as you rock here with your need for satisfaction. I am glad for my big hands because I can wrap them entirely around your hips, holding them, pinning them to the bed, or pulling them into me as I thrust."

His hips buck upward and he groans, long and throaty.

"Your legs are muscle and sinew. They are taut with your excitement, with your desire. I love to lick behind your knees and along your thighs, nipping and marking my way up to your groin. I love to kneel between your legs and feel them wrap around me, pulling me into you when you want it harder, deeper."

"Yes!" He is moving in earnest now, his hands kneading the bedclothes in rhythm with his hips as they pump into the air. He is close.

"I see your beautiful, hard phallus. It throbs with your excitement. It glistens with the drops that have escaped. I want to take it into my mouth, caress it with my tongue as I snake my hand between your legs, touching and teasing."

"I want to take you. I want to claim your body and bring us both to a screaming climax."

He hisses and cries out, but I hear a note of frustration in his voice.

"I am incredibly aroused just looking at you, Padawan. It is all I can do to keep from touching you ... or myself."

I realize his moans have turned to something more definite. He is trying to speak.

"Please," he finally manages.

"Yes, my Obi-Wan?"

His body tenses as he pants and begs. "Please, touch me!"

"Are you sure?" I ask, disappointed. "You want to give in?"

"Touch. Me." I know he is serious because he has thrown a bit of the Force into the words. I almost comply without thinking, but I catch myself and stop long enough to decide how to proceed.

I look at the man before me, beautiful, strong and vulnerable. The intensity of my feelings for him crest and almost overwhelm me. I pour my emotion into my voice.

"I love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

That is enough. Those simple words push him over the edge. His hips arch upward, bringing much of his body off the bed as he surges with release. I watch the creamy fluid pumping over his chest as he emits a scream that makes my throat hurt to listen to it. He rocks, gasping for breath. His hands pull the bedclothes loose from the mattress.

He whips off the blindfold before his orgasm is complete. He reaches up to grab my arms, pulling me forward with commanding strength.

"You. Inside me. Now!"

This time I am the one who almost loses control from the sound of my lover's voice. My urgency matches his as we both pull at my clothing.

Finally, finally my tunic is off and my leggings pulled down. I gather the semen from Obi-Wan's chest, quickly spreading it over my erection. I start to spread some across my intended entry, but Obi-Wan grabs my hand.

Through gritted teeth, he stops me. "I said now!"

I stare into his grey eyes as I position myself between his legs, then sink fully within his tight body. After watching his incredible arousal and climax, I cannot hold back. I pump madly into him, closing my eyes and throwing my head back to just experience the shear joy of our union. Never has it been like this with another. Love makes our joining an ecstasy.

"Only you, Obi-Wan!"

I can sense him watching as my orgasm comes rushing toward me. Sounds of pleasure escape my mouth as I revel in the feel of him, my Obi-Wan.

"No!"

"What?" The suddenness of his cry brings me back from the brink and I stop moving. "Why?"

"Wait. Wait for me." His words are breathless. I see now that he is hard again. He is stroking himself, and in a few seconds urges me with his hips to continue. "Yes, Qui-Gon. Take me."

We move without thought, thrusting, moaning, ancient animal rhythms piercing our veneer of culture. We are both senseless but for the primal drive for movement, pleasure and satisfaction. I find all three as my mind shatters under the explosion ripping through me. I hear Obi-Wan cry out moments later, and we ride the waves of our climax, his body an extension of mine. The joy of passion fills us both.

Finally, I collapse onto my lover's body, and his love washes over me.

Gradually, our heartbeats slow. Our breathing returns to normal. I slide to my lover's side, glorying in his face, flushed with satisfaction. I pick up his braid and stroke his cheek with the tip, teasing until he turns and smiles.

"As usual, Master, you live up to your challenges."

"Do or do not, eh, Obi-Wan?"

That earns me a short laugh and a quick embrace.

"Well, Master, now that I have confessed my infatuation with your voice, perhaps you have a secret you would like to share with me?" His eyes are dancing as he asks.

"And what might that be?" I reply, matching his teasing tone.

"Isn't there something about me that you find...particularly exciting? Arousing, even?"

I bestow my most enigmatic Jedi Master smile, staring directly into his eyes as I take his hand in mine. "Can't you leave an old man just one secret?"

His answer is a sweet kiss.

End