They never really talked—not about how Poe would do anything for her, or about how Leia needed everything from him, or at least from someone, and certainly not about the knife edge they both walked dark rooms. They worked out what they wanted by feel, by exchanged glaces, until she knew to touch every scrap of skin as she bound him then adjusted the settings on the maglocks and the padding under the manacles, and he knew that she wouldn't mount him until he was too wrung out even to beg, but he still needed to beg first. When he was spent and she looked free, she would unbind him with just as much care, and pull him into her embrace. She was a small woman, but Poe would fold himself against her and sleep in her arms.
He wanted, in those moments, to tell her how he felt, but knew that wasn't what she needed from him. She needed the best pilot and the best commander he could be; she needed loyalty and creativity and hard work; and sometimes she needed someone to bind and to hold. She did not need a lover; she had a husband for that. Or she'd had one once.
Later, after the Falcon had left, she caught his eye at a briefing. Poe was tired. He'd been flying all day—and had had a concussion the day before—and he didn't know if he had it in him. He did know that if she'd needed him before, admittedly or otherwise, he couldn't leave her now.
He showered as quickly as he could, tousled his hair and dabbed on his last drop of millaflower and amber scent, then went to her quarters. It looked like any of the dozen prefab rooms she'd lived in since he'd known her, but she was waiting in that blue dress that could still take his breath away, no matter how many times he saw it.
Poe reached for her hair, wanting to unbind it and comb his fingers through until it fell down her back or across the top of her breasts, but she closed her hand around his wrist. "Wait," Leia said, and he froze.
Had she asked him here to end this? He couldn't protest, but who would give to her if he did not? Who would he have left?
"Are you fit?" she asked instead, and his mind spun. Jakku seemed like a hundred years ago, not only a matter of days, but now the memories of it crowded back in. When he hesitated, she nodded slightly, and he thought she would have sent him away—if not forever then for that night—but before he could gather his words and plead, she reached up and pulled his face down to hers.
Her kiss was needier than he'd ever felt, almost violent, as she sucked at his bottom lip and her fingertips dug into his scalp.
Poe opened his mouth to let her take him, and steadied himself on her shoulders. She was still as straight and beautiful as a sapling, even today, and Poe needed that to lean on. He needed her to keep kissing him. He could hear her breathing hard already, and he put a hand over her heart to feel it pounding through her underdress.
He didn't think this would be a time they took it slow, but for the first time he asked, in case she didn't know he still wanted it. "Tie me up or tie me down?" he said with a half of his old cocky grin.
She paused, her hands stilling in his hair. She didn't ask, but he saw that he would have to reassure her.
Poe nodded, holding her look, but she frowned.
"When it was me, I couldn't," Leia said, searching his face. "Not for a long time after..."
After she'd been tortured and her world had ended. "Well I can," he said. "You know me, General: I'm up for anything anytime anywhere."
Leia smiled thinly, but she nodded again, with more assurance, and planted both hands in the centre of his chest, pushing him back toward the bed.
He let himself fall, the narrow cot—portable and temporary like everything else here—creaked under him but held. He sat up enough to peel out of his shirt, and reached up to take hold of the top of the bed frame. She watched him for longer than usual, eyes lingering on fresh bruises, and then brought the manacles.
She bound his hands first, the wide pads under the metal and maglocks holding him tightly but not painfully. He jerked his arms to test them, but there was no give. He looked up; Leia was kneeling beside him, looking down to study his face again. Poe grinned at her, and she relaxed, not quite smiling back, but moving again. Leia ran her fingers down the inside of his arm, ticking a little as she went, tracing a circle around each bruise as though to mark it. He'd been in Bacta briefly after Jakku, but not long enough to make him as new.
Poe wanted to reassure her that he was okay, but he didn't want to lie to her, so he lay back to let her find him as he was. All he'd ever wanted to do was make her smile and tell him she was proud and he was good, and he knew he had to wait for that.
When Leia's hands got to his shoulder, she touched his lips and again he opened his mouth for her and sucked at her fingers while her other hand ran down his chest and back up again. She tasted bitter and metallic from gripping the edge of the displays like she always did. Her breathing had slowed, and her eyes were narrowed and focused rather than wide, but Poe knew that this was what she wanted. He could see it in her parted lips and in the way her hand trembled slightly when she lifted it.
By the time Leia got to his belt, fingers damp from his lips, Poe was shaking too. He tried to breath steadily, but her touch undid him the same way that the maglocks held him down. If he hadn't been tied to the bed, Poe would have been flying right now.
He lifted his hips for her as she pulled his trousers and underwear off, having to stretch the band to get clear of his half-hard cock. Instead of touching him like he wanted her to—like he knew she wouldn't—she undid his boots and drew them off too before binding his ankles.
Leia undressed herself then, Her dress unfastened at a trail of her fingers down her back, even as her breasts pushed against the fabric, and fell into a pool on the floor. She stepped out and then bent to fold it. Her slip rode up to giving him a clear look at the backs of her thighs and the crease under her ass, and he'd have traded his X-Wing to touch her. Her body was soft and round, and Poe knew the strength of the muscles hidden underneath.
She turned, saw him looking, and smiled. She knew what he saw in her without him having to say a word. When she'd put the dress aside, Leia stripped the slip over her head, pulling her underwear off with it. She moved slowly, watching him watch the hem rise up. Her smile widened just before the slip covered her face and revealed her breasts. Poe swallowed and held himself rigid against the bed, knowing he couldn't pull away but unable to relax.
Naked, Leia stepped forward and touched his left ankle right above the manacle; her breath sucked in at his tension, and she ran her hands up to his thighs. Her fingers spread and dug into his muscles just below his hips, and Poe had to let out a sharp breath to keep from screaming. His cock was hard now, without her having touched it, and he knew that for all her care he wouldn't last as long as he usually did.
"Please," he said. I need you, he didn't, but he knew she understood that.
"Of course," Leia answered. Instead of drawing him out, she gave in, crawling up the bed until she sat astride his thighs, her belly nudging the head of his cock. She wouldn't be ready, he knew, but she wouldn't free his hand to let her touch him either. Instead she reached between them, each movement brushing her wrist along the underside of his cock and past his balls. She held herself so close, even here, biting her bottom lip as her fingers worked herself up.
Poe wanted to be the one to take care of her. He wasn't new at these games, and every other person he'd been with he'd been able to touch until they writhed and screamed, but not his General. He waited.
Leia moaned and closed her eyes, hand stilling between them. She took two long breaths and Poe inhaled in time with her. He didn't think she'd brought herself off, but just to the edge.
She knelt, rising above him, then took his cock to guide him into her before settling back. Poe stopped breathing as she slid down onto him, and didn't remember that he needed to until her hips were snug against his. His blood was drumming in his ears and his heart was singing with lust for her, but if his hands had been free, he'd have held her there and never let her move. He felt perfect and complete just like this. If Poe could suspend the galaxy in this moment forever, held in place just as he was, he would have.
But Poe didn't control time any more than he controlled Leia, and she rose up off him. He watched her breasts sway and tried to lean up to lick, but her back was straight, and he didn't have the reach. Leia smiled and gave him her fingers again as she fell. He sucked avidly.
She rose again, lifting just with her strong thighs, and he bucked to follow her until she fell back, driving him into the bed, and into her. Perspiration gleamed in the low light, burnishing her skin, and Poe strained against the manacles as he reached to take her hips, to touch her breasts, to wipe her clean. Unable to move, he let his head fall back and bit lightly at her fingers.
His body felt taut, over stressed like he was trying to pull against a gravity well too deep to escape. As Leia rose again his vision blurred and he knew that he would come soon, too soon, but could do nothing about it.
This time when Leia fell back, she bent forward and kissed him, wet fingers entwining in his sweat-soaked hair. The kiss was open mouthed and needy and had to break off because they were both breathing too hard. He pushed his hips up to drive into her, and to tip her forward on top of him so that he could feel the softness of her breasts, but Leia held steady, pulling his hair and flexing her thighs to balance herself. Poe jerked up again, this time without thought, and then again, while Leia rode him, kissing his face.
Poe came, gasping into her mouth, and she rode that out too. He never knew if she came or not, but she stayed on top of him longer than usual this time, their sweaty foreheads resting against each other, her hair starting to fall out of its coif, and the tiny room filled with the sound of their breathing.
At last, she reached up and hit the release for all the maglocks, rubbing first one wrist then the other, even though the manacles hadn't hurt him. He stroked her back, knowing that she liked the feel of rough hands on smooth skin.
When Poe moved to roll on his side, pulling out of her and curling into her arms, she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Leia met his eyes for a long time, searching him, though he couldn't tell what she was feeling. Finally she whispered, "Hold me?"
Poe's throat tightened and he had to blink hard, but he nodded and drew her into his arms.