Omera walked into the cantina, with shaky hands, and anxiousness running through her body as she approached him. It hadn’t been difficult to find him. She knew they’d be stopping before nightfall and this was the only known establishment in Sorgan that also offered food and lodging.
She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t verbally chastised herself over the course of the half day journey there. She was acting like a love-struck ingenue—unlike the mature, level-headed woman and mother that she was. Omera knew she should’ve been ashamed of herself for acting out of impulse instead of thinking things through. She was being irrational. But the truth was, she wasn’t satisfied with the way things had ended between her and the Mandalorian.
Everything had taken place at an accelerated pace. Those weeks had been like a fleeting fever dream that she couldn’t just lock away and pretend it didn't happen. From the very first sight of him entering her village, to the vision of his silhouette disappearing against the backdrop of the deserted road he’d embarked on with his son—the memories haunted her. Every single moment from those days spent by his side were permanently inked into her memory. Triggering a flutter in her stomach and a sharp rise of temperature in her core every time she thought about him.
She’d stood there almost frozen as she delved into that warm, inviting reverie. Catching the attention of the bartender who had noticed she’d been staring blankly at the aloof stranger seated at the table.
“Friend of yours?” He asked the Mandalorian, causing him to snap his head up and turn around in his chair, the armor clanking against the wooden backrest.
Omera’s chest felt like it was going to burst, her heart beating rapidly at what she could only assume was sustained eye contact.
She noticed the child wasn't with him, which was a slightly alarming discovery on its own.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, and even through the sound of his monotone voice she could tell he'd posed the question softly—almost delicately.
"Where's your boy?" Omera continued toward him, closing the distance between them.
The cantina had become silent the moment he questioned her but at the sight of no trouble the guests promptly resumed their bustling activities.
"He's asleep. We ran into a bit of trouble on the way here with a group of rogue hunters. He was... quite spent after that." He explained vaguely, getting up from his chair.
"He's okay." She said, not quite a question.
"He's fine. He slurped down a bowl of soup bigger than him and then fell fast asleep." He paused for a moment, beckoning to her to take a seat. "He'll likely be out until sunrise."
“I’ve been sitting in a carriage for a while.” Omera smiled, showing gratitude with her gesture but opting not to sit down.
"You still haven't told me what you're doing here.” He crossed his hands in front of him, leaning back on the table just enough to make himself comfortable.
She looked away sheepishly. “I’m not quite sure, actually.”
“You’ve come a long way to not be sure.”
Her eyes flicked to him again. He was quiet for a while, turning his head to look at the back door that led to the corridors of mostly-empty chambers. He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea but he was sure she’d appreciate the privacy.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” He offered.
Omera nodded, walking beside him as they made their way to the enclosed courtyard.
It was a fairly chilly night. The weather an obviously unlikely culprit for her heat.
The torches that lit the walkways made the place almost look like a monastery. Green vines were intricately rambled in the trellis archways as they began their stroll around the perimeter. She was amused by a little pond holding an array of colorful little fish that hid when they got too close.
“You could’ve stayed, you know?” She said, walking close enough to brush her arm against his armor. “You could’ve stayed… one more night.” A bit of color graced her cheeks and she hoped that he wasn’t able to read too much into her words.
But there was also a part of her that wished he would, so she wouldn’t have to try so hard at this. She wasn’t very good at it.
“I’m grateful for what you did for us.” He sighed. “We both held up our end of the bargain.”
Omera's lips twitched into a tiny smile. He had a point. They'd made a deal and they’d both honored it. That’s all it had ever been, right?
“So why do I still feel indebted to you?” He added, catching her off guard.
She looked up then, her pace slowing down until she finally stopped.
“Indebted? How so?”
He shifted his body so that they were standing face to face. His head slowly tilted downward to get a good look at her, and then right back up again. The gesture made her chest tighten, and a warmth began swirling in her belly, spreading straight into her core.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
Omera became aware of her quickening pulse as she reached her hand up to touch the side of his helmet. She was past her breaking point, the sensations coursing through her body and the insufferable pining making her ache surge.
“Perhaps, I can show you.” She muttered, feeling a satisfying twinge deep in her core in anticipation.
She returned from the cantina with a key in hand. The journey there had been tiring and she had intended on staying for one night, regardless of the outcome. But seeing as it had been more than favorable, she wasn't disappointed in the least.
They walked into the room and she closed the door behind them, tugging at his hand and guiding him closer to the bed—wasting no time beating around the bush.
She knew this would be different from all her previous times. Not being able to see his face, to touch it with her hands, to kiss him. It was a challenge she'd been prepared for, and maybe she’d been contemplating those fantasies more often than she cared to admit.
The Mandalorian for his part, wasn’t a stranger to basic human needs and lustful deeds. He’d had his share of meaningless lays and senseless nights over the course of his adult life. The outskirts of the dome cities in Mandalore were home to a not-so-secret brothel which he and others of his kind were keen to visiting from time to time. After all, what else was there to do to blow off some steam after a particularly rough bounty?
However, Omera standing right in front of him with those mesmerizing brown eyes, so eager to unmask him and claim a piece of him that had been hidden for so long, was vastly different from all those other times. This was anything but an ordinary encounter. He was well aware of that, and so he did something he’d never done before.
He removed his gloves. A nervous ripple rising in his stomach at the first act of exposure.
Omera trembled at his touch, one hand leisurely trailing her beautiful olive complexion. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the way his fingers caressed her cheek and then continued to outline the soft edges of her jaw.
A tiny puff of air left her lungs, a gasp she didn’t even know she’d been holding in until it was too late.
“You asked what I was doing here.” She murmured, placing her hands on his arms, fingers wrapping around his biceps. “But why does it matter?”
She looked down, her long black eyelashes hiding her eyes from him as his left hand found a home in the bend of her hip and the other began gliding down her neck and over the collar of her dress.
Through it all, Omera found the strength to continue speaking. Short pauses after every statement.
“Why does anything happen? Sometimes we just feel things, without reason. At first sight. Without explanation. Without having enough time to even process it.”
There was no hesitation for what followed. She ran her hands over his arms, clutching the parts of him that weren’t covered by an impenetrable barrier.
He could feel his cock responding eagerly to her, becoming engorged with every touch of her fingertips, as if they were burning right through the fabric of his sleeves and into his nakedness underneath. Every time her hand ran over a piece of clothing that wasn’t shielded by metal, his body became struck by an overpowering sensation that made his whole being resonate.
“Is this what you want?” He asked, already untying the back of her dress—because that’s what he wanted.
“Yes.” Omera said, firmly tugging at the cloak around his neck and then at his breastplate. Truth was, she knew she wanted him out of his suit, she just wasn’t sure where to begin.
He helped her out by removing them himself, moving on to the other parts of his armor with great dexterity and swiftness. A laugh escaped him as she stared in awe at how intricate the mechanism was. It was a sound that she was not familiar with until then.
“I didn’t know you could laugh under that thing.” She said, smiling at him.
“I don’t do it for just anyone.” He admitted, throwing his vambraces on the floor and then taking off his shin guards—the last of the remaining pieces of armor.
He returned his attention to her then, gently sliding the dress off of her shoulders and gradually disrobing her. Each article of clothing carefully peeled off of her like it was the first time he was undressing a woman.
Omera kicked off her shoes, shimmying out of her pants just before her dress fell to the floor. She quietly snickered, stepping out of the clothes pooled around her feet. She was almost entirely naked, save for her underwear.
The long strands of her dark brown hair fell over her shoulders and onto her chest, leaving just enough skin uncovered for him to see how perfect she was.
“You’re very beautiful.”
She smiled bashfully, eager to see all of him too. Her hands pulling off his top, stretching it enough so that it’d come off over his helmet—not an easy feat but manageable, delightfully clumsy at best.
Omera touched his chest, hard and defined beneath her digits, goosebumps appearing on his skin as she skimmed over it with the palm of her hands. Her heart was beating so fast it was making it hard for her to think. The tips of her fingers coming in contact with the raised edges of his battle scars and softly caressing his light bruises. She could see how his breathing quickened and then suddenly stopped whenever she got too close to his neck.
“I can’t.” He said, refusing to remove his helmet even though half of him was already naked.
She wanted to kiss him and he was rightfully denying her that need. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make to be with him.
“I understand.” She replied, a similar tone to the one she’d used back home. She bit her lip and then lowered her head into his chest, her mouth pressing into his warm, taut skin.
He gasped, his fingers in her hair, clutching her close like he was afraid she was going to retreat without warning. Omera’s lips enclosed around his skin, brushing his nipple with her nose as the faint taste of salt and sweat invaded her tongue.
She felt his chest tremble, his breathing hitching for a second as she kissed him over his ribs and across his torso. His hands, tough and calloused, trailed down her spine to the small of her back, pulling her hips toward him, pressing her body against him. Yearning to have her closer still.
“Can I just say, I’m very glad I decided to bathed as soon as I arrived?”
Omera laughed. “You’re pretty funny for someone who normally gives off a brooding vibe.”
“If you say s…s…so.”
The Mandalorian stammered in the delivery, a result of her hand running down the front of his pants, bravely brushing his hardness over his clothes. Her own breathing fastened for a moment as her fingers continued their exploration. His imposing size undeniable even under its restraints.
He fell back into the bed, managing to get his boots off as his legs hung over the side. Omera climbed onto the space next to him. Her hand once again rubbing his throbbing cock as she nestled into his side.
She flipped her long hair back, her longing eyes reflecting her unrelenting hunger.
He groaned, imagining how sweet she’d taste if he could just kiss her. If he could just use his tongue to lick her soft, tan skin, like she’d done to him. His hands groped both of her breasts, trying to relieve the unquenched thirst he was experiencing. Fingers pulling at her hardened nipples, twisting her little nubs until she was moaning and out of breath.
“I need you.” She muttered, taking off her underwear in haste. “I need all of you. Please.”
He pushed himself up enough to remove the last piece of clothing he had on. With her help, the pants came off in a matter of seconds, finally letting her see his fully hardened length.
Omera’s center was pulsing, aching heat making her increasingly more wet as she took in the sight of him climbing back on the bed. He hovered over her, parting her legs and dipping his fingers between her glistening folds. She panted, lifting up her hips to meet his gentle strokes.
After a few moments of teasing, he finally settled between her thighs. His tip finding the heated confines of her wet entrance and slowly filling her up. Her mouth dropped open, chest fluttering and mind in a total frenzy with each passing second.
The grunts coming from him were exhilarating, her entire being completely focused on just him and the delicious pleasure he was instilling in her. The initial discomfort, a reminder that she hadn’t done this in a long time. But her body responded to him with ease—warmly welcoming him, increasingly becoming more saturated until he was easily gliding in and out of her opening.
He fucked her nice and slow at first until they both fell into a natural rhythm. Her body trembling with every touch, plump lips always searching for new skin to brush up against.
Once they’d both discovered their perfect comfort level, she took the liberty to snake her body around him till she was on top, with her legs strapped to either side of him. She smiled, letting out a little sigh and then a louder moan as she lowered herself onto him. Her walls expanding once again to grant him entrance.
He lifted himself up a little higher on the bed, pulling her with him. He rested his head against the headboard in a semi-seated position that didn't look very comfortable but one that he seemed happy with. He was making all kinds of noises under that helmet as she bucked her hips into him, undulating her lower body as he gripped her hips.
Omera was so close to finishing, she could feel her body heat rising, her veins pumping vehemently as she continued to ride him. She tried to slow down just enough to calm the ache but it was too late. The loud moans triggered by her release erupted from her lips. Her dark hair whisking over his thighs as she threw her head back and basked in the intense rush.
The Mandalorian touched her face, loving the way her warm skin felt against his. Once her high had subsided, he didn’t make an effort to keep going. On the contrary, he helped her get off of him so he could get up from the bed.
“Is everything okay?” Omera sounded worried.
“Everything is fine.” He paused. “I want to do this again.”
She smiled, giving him a dubious look.
“I mean, I want to do it now.”
“You want to keep going? Yes. That’s kind of the point of this.” She teased.
He took a deep breath.
Her eyes were unable to keep their focus, instead roaming up and down his naked body. Revving up her center once more.
“I would like to take my helmet off.” He said, catching her surprised look when she heard him. “But I would like you to keep your eyes covered.”
“You want me to close my eyes? The whole time.”
She heard his muffled laugh before he explained. “I will need to blindfold you.”
"Oh." A little wave of disappointment rushed over her as she nodded. "Okay."
"Okay." He repeated, muscles contorting as he paced around in all his naked glory until he found a piece of cloth he could tie around her.
Omera trailed her eyes over him one last time, knowing she'd be in total darkness in just a few seconds.
Her eyelids closed as the cloth came over her, and she felt the tightening of the blindfold as he securely tied it on.
"I will be right back. Don't move." He ordered.
"Where are you going?"
“Even though I bathed, I have been wearing this helmet for a few hours."
She laughed. "Oh, how very considerate of you."
Every sound became heightened, even his bare feet over the floor as he retreated. Omera heard the clanking of alloy atop of a hard surface and then the water splashing in the washroom. Her heart was beating fast just from knowing he had taken off the one thing that always kept him hidden from the rest of the world.
A couple minutes later, he returned, reaching for her hand to help her up. She smiled, thunderous chest unable to stay calm as her hands instinctively trailed up his chest and her fingers slowly crawled over his jaw. She touched the stubble on his face like she was trying to decipher a hidden meaning behind it.
"I like this." She said, gently moving her fingers over the fullness of his lower lip and then tracing the little dip of his Cupid’s bow with care.
Her hands moved higher up to touch the rest of his face. Caressing the bridge of his nose, his closed eyes, his eyebrows, and finally his hair. It only went down to the nape of his neck but it had a messy quality to it, thick and with a light curl to it.
"You're very handsome. Shame that I can’t see you.” She tilted her chin up slightly, lips parting with need, longing to be kissed by him.
"You don't know that."
She heard his voice for the very first time. The sound of him without a voice amplifier, without any kind of change in his pitch or any resounding echo, made her center reverberate like some kind of magnetism had jammed all her senses.
Omera knew she would never forget the sound of it.
"Oh, but I do." She smiled wide.
A moment later she felt the brush of his nose against the tip of hers. His lips pressing against hers, taking her mouth in his with unrestraint need. He groaned into the kiss, his warm tongue coming in contact with hers, wrapping around it as he hungrily nipped at her lips. At last, being able to taste her. She was even better than he imagined.
Omera didn't want it to end. She wanted to live in this perpetual state of kissing and moaning, and breathing each other's air. Forever.
And it did last for a long while, because neither she or him wanted it to stop. But after those delirious long minutes, he took her by the waist, turning her around and backing her into his pulsating cock as it wedged between her ass.
She turned over her shoulder instinctively and in vain, trying to see something she was being deprived of. With one foot he moved one of her legs, spreading them a few inches more so he had enough room to work with.
Her walls were still dripping, wet enough for him to slide right in. He pushed his hips into her, his shaft buried deep in her confines once again. Omera whimpered, the sensations almost too much for her to take. He'd definitely found that sweet spot that was making her unravel faster than she could think.
"You like this." He said. It wasn't a question, he could tell she was vastly enjoying what he was doing to her.
He kissed the side of her neck, breathing her in as he licked her supple skin.
She didn't have time to reply with words. Her moans and little grunts did that for her. She bent over on the bed, taking in wave after wave of her elated undoing.
He carefully turned her over, not giving her enough time to come down from her high this time. She gasped as her back hit the soft mattress. He lowered himself to the ground, kneeling before her like he was worshipping at an altar.
The moment his tongue came in contact with her flesh, Omera felt a staggering rush of pleasure overtake her. She whimpered, having felt nothing like it before in her entire life.
“Oh. My…” She said shakily, not being able to formulate the words.
The feeling of his mouth over her center, the vibrations of his humming, the loud sucking noises he made as he tasted her, it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. His tongue brushed up and down her slit over and over, gently flicking her throbbing little nub until she was practically screaming. He continued his ministrations for a while longer, eventually bringing her over the edge for a third time.
Omera’s chest rose and fell as she caught her breath. “That was. Amazing.”
“It sure was.” He said, wiping his mouth as he smiled.
He remained standing by the edge of the bed, propping her legs up on his shoulders and slipping inside her quite effortlessly this time. Her beautiful, perky breasts moved in tune with his thrusts. He was convinced he'd never seen a more beautiful woman before in his life.
He continued to pump into her at the same speed, his hands sliding over the length of her legs. The way she felt her walls wrapped around him, stroking his cock so perfectly, quickly put him on the verge of release. He could feel himself getting close.
A loud groan left his lips and his heart pounded with more force in his chest. From one moment to the next losing control of himself and giving in to the sweet release that made him fall apart. His whole being shattering in euphoric relief as he moaned.
Moments later, Omera felt his lips on her again. A long, drawn out kiss that was veiled in both happiness and sadness. He was getting ready to pull away when she drew him in one more time, knowing this was probably it. One last kiss to last her a lifetime.
He cleaned up and gathered his things, not bothering to put on his full armor this time, just his clothes and his helmet. Omera pulled the blindfold off once he was done, getting dressed herself after she'd washed up.
Neither of them wanted to say the first words, knowing this would likely be the last time they'd get to be this intimate. But she knew that whatever she said to him had to be meaningful enough for him to remember her. That's all she really wanted. To be remembered. To be thought of fondly. Hoping he would smile every time he did.
"Where are you going next?" She said, her voice dwindling.
"Not sure yet." He replied.
"Thank you. For this. For making me feel something that I thought had been frozen in me long ago.”
“No need. I don’t think you realize how much you did for me.” He said. “I won’t forget you, Omera." He added. "I'll carry you with me, always.”
She smiled, her heart breaking slowly, aching a little at the thought of losing him forever. But she knew this is how it was supposed to be. She approached him, wrapping her arms around him in a warm, tight hug.
"Have a good night, and take care of that little one of yours.” She beamed through her glossy stare, slowly letting go of him.
He nodded. “Likewise. Have a good night.”
She took a seat on the bed. Trying to come across as calm and collected as possible as he walked to the door and turned to look at her one last time before shutting it behind him.
Omera kept herself from crying. She wanted to keep holding on to all the joy and feelings he'd gifted her with during their short time together. She was truly thankful for him and what they'd shared and she didn’t want to be sad about it ending.
She slipped under the covers, resting the side of her head on a pillow. It still smelled like him. A deep sigh left her lungs. Yeah, she was incredibly grateful for that unforgettable night, and especially for the feelings he’d awaken in her.
She would always be indebted to the Mandalorian for being the one to make her love without reason.