Chapter Text
In the past thirty five years, they had found countless ways to deal with the height difference. A small box, just a couple of inches high, had the desired effect of allowing Amilyn better access to Leia’s neck. It was rather spontaneous, as so often, taking advantage of the few short moments they had to themselves in the midst of a cold war. The general’s hands pinned against the wall behind her, Amilyn pressed her own body flush against Leia’s. She had her lips attached to her neck, mouth wide open and teeth gently scraping over soft skin, soon to be soothed by her tongue running over the irritated patches. Leia did not like her leaving marks, especially not while they were still on duty, technically. Yet, in this moment, Amilyn heard no complaints. Instead, heavy breaths left the back of Leia’s throat; over the years they both had mastered the art of stealth. When they were at home, however, things looked quite differently.
Leia squirmed, trying to free her hands from Amilyn’s grip, attempting to protest, only to be silenced by the admiral’s lips before words could form. Amilyn knew she wanted to touch, but this was not how they would do this today. With Leia’s bottom lip between her teeth, Amilyn looked into dark brown eyes, unable to suppress a smirk. Over thirty-five years passed since the two of them had met on Alderaan. Two years later they had spent the night together for the first time. Many things had happened since then - and many people, too, including Han - yet the adoration Amilyn felt whenever she looked into Leia’s eyes had never faded. In fact, it became stronger, more consuming than anything she had ever felt in her entire life. Leia was what made her feel like she was doing the right thing, day after day.
Ducking her head, Amilyn placed kisses along Leia’s jawline, leaving bite marks here and there. To Leia’s advantage, she had nothing to bind her hands with, and so she was forced to let her go when eager fingers began to unzip her overall, making short work of the decorative belt, which slid to the floor with a clank. With her lips attached to Leia’s neck again, slowly working her way down to her collar bone, her hands pushed the overall to the side, and slid underneath the shirt she wore, fingertips brushing over exposed skin. As much as she would have loved to linger there for a moment longer, the time they had available was, as so often lately, limited. While Leia’s hands were by now buried in Amilyn’s hair - a soft shade of turquoise currently - the admiral’s hand moved south, blindly finding her way between her legs. Leia still hadn’t said a word, only soft whimpers and sighs coming from her.
Regardless of how often they had done this in their lifetime, Amilyn never failed to be pleasantly surprised at how little it took for Leia to be ready. Granted, with passing age it took a little longer each time, yet that was nothing that couldn’t be helped in the long run. With Amilyn’s body still pressed against Leia’s, her hand nestled between her legs, circular motions starting to get the general all worked up, it became audibly harder for Leia to be as quiet as necessary. Amilyn unwillingly let go of her neck, muffling the sounds with her lips instead.
They stood there for a while, always feeling like a little eternity, and yet just a heartbeat; long fingers fluidly moving in and out in a steady rhythm, palm rubbing against the bundle of nerves. Always over sooner than each of them would have liked. Amilyn could feel her walls contracting around her fingers, granting her a few last movements to ride it out, before removing them to the sound of Leia’s heavy breaths.
Amilyn’s intention to seductively lick her fingers was, however, soon foiled by being quite literally unable to take the desired step back. She felt something tugging at her hair, and it took her a moment to realise that one of Leia’s rings was caught in coloured curls.
“Ouch! Could you…?” Amilyn winced a little as Leia tugged at her ring in an attempt to free it.
“I’m trying. Hold still!”
“Be careful.” The frown on Amilyn’s face soon turned into a pout, a relieved sigh passing her lips as Leia at last freed her ring from her hair. She looked at the general for a moment, the apologetic smile too irresistible. She leaned closer and kissed her, while zipping up her overall again. “No rings next time. You know the rules.”
“Yes, yes.” Leia stepped down from the box, took Amilyn’s hand into her own and brought it up to her lips, briefly sucking on her fingers while maintaining eye contact. “Next time it’s your turn,” she reminded her.