The Mandalorian's Slave

The Inn

Y'all have suspiciously quiet lately😔if my writing is shit or there's anything you'd like to see, please tell me🙏🏻

Trigger warning: this chapter will contain sex. Sorry if this is terrible🤠

This shower feels heavenly. The ice-cold water washes away the blood, sweat, and dirt that have become a part of me as I generously lather jasmine-scented soap onto myself.

I run my fingers through my tangled hair, desperate to get the knots out. It's grown since the last time I was on Jakku.

With much sadness, I force myself to turn the water off and get out of the shower. My body feels pleasantly cool as the warm air greets me. I wrap myself in one the thin, threadbare towels provided by the inn.

I was surprised when Din said we would be staying the night in an inn. To me, it seemed like an unnecessary splurge of money. But, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't enjoying every minute of this.

I rub the healing salve that the Mandalorian bought earlier at the market into my shoulder. It stings fiercely, but it's fast-working. By tomorrow my shoulder should be healed.

I shrug on one of the Mandalorian's shirts. It hangs loosely on my frame and billows down to the middle of my thighs. It's not exactly the sexiest nightgown, but most of my other clothes are blood-stained or destroyed.

I exit the small bathroom and enter our room. The inn we're staying at is half run-down, but to me, it's a palace. One large bed occupies the limited space in our narrow bedroom. On the right side of the wall is a battered door that leads to a crumbling balcony.

Din isn't on our room. He's probably at the marketplace, searching for any traces of other Mandalorians.

I glance at the pram. The Child is fast asleep. He, just like myself, seems to be blissfully unaware of his Jedi status.

I walk out onto the ancient balcony and sit down, letting my legs dangle off the edge. I glance up at the darkening sky. When I lived on Jakku before, I used to stare up at the stars and dream of traveling amongst them. Now I do. That itself seems unreal.

I hear the bedroom door clank open.

"Aster?"

"I'm out here," I call over my shoulder.

The balcony door creaks open as the Mandalorian approaches me.

"You shouldn't be out here," he warns. "A bounty hunter could easily shoot you from a distance. Or you could fall."

"You worry too much," I tease, but I stand up anyway.

"Being a Mandalorian means always having a target on your back. It makes you cautious."

I follow Din back into our room, watching him firmly latch the door behind us.

"You look so much better in my shirt than I ever could," the Mandalorian says. "And although I wish I could see you wear it every day, I'd get too jealous knowing other people could see you like this. So I bought you some new clothes."

"My other clothes are salvageable," I protest.

The Mandalorian wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me close. I'm suddenly aware of the way his shirt rides up my thighs and clings to my breasts.

"All this talk about your clothes, when all I want to do is see you with your clothes off." Din's voice is hoarse and sends shivers down my spine.

"The Child..." I begin to protest.

"Is fast asleep." The Mandalorian finishes for me. "Although I'd love nothing more than to wake the whole town with the sound of you screaming my name."

My Master reaches up and removes his helmet. I'm still not used to seeing his face. I study his warm brown eyes, the stubble of his beard, the slight curl of his hair.

The Mandalorian leans down and kisses me. It's different from our other kisses. It's ravenous and desperate. It sends waves of heat coursing through my body, begging for more.

Without warning, Din picks me up. He holds me at eye level with himself, planting kisses down my neck. I throw my head back in ecstasy as he leaves a trail of hickeys leading to my chest. I wrap my legs around him as the Mandalorian stumbles toward the bed.

He gently lowers me on the soft blankets. I stare up at him, my heart hammering in my chest.

"You're mine," he whispers fiercely, leaving another hickey on my neck. I gasp, feeling the prickle of his beard against my soft skin and the eagerness of his lips.

The Mandalorian pauses momentarily to remove his gloves. He carelessly tosses them aside, as if this moment is all that matters.

His hands greedily run up my thighs. His shirt offers little resistance. For a moment, I'm self-conscious. But then I see the way the Mandalorian is staring at me. His brown eyes are glazed with lustful desire.

He continues the push my nightgown up, over my stomach and breasts. The Mandalorian runs his hands over my curves with a desperate roughness. His mouth meets my chest, desperately biting my soft chest, leaving dark hickeys behind.

I pull the shirt off myself completely. The Mandalorian pauses, gazing down at me.

"You are perfection," he says softly. "And you are completely and utterly mine."

Din Djarin snakes down to my thighs. He plants wolfish kisses on my legs, each kiss bring him upwards. He smiles as his mouth reaches the center of my legs.

"Look at you. So wet, so needy for me." Without waiting for my response, his lips meet my clit.

I tilt my head back and moan, unable to contain myself any longer. My fingers grip his hair as his tongue causes my legs to shake.

"Fuck," I whimper, melting because of him.

I gasp as the Mandalorian pushes a finger inside of me. His hands work in the same rhythm as his tongue. The effect has me devastated.

"Beg for me," the Mandalorian commands. "Beg for my cock."

"Please, Master. Please. I need you." I don't just want him. I need him.

"Good girl." The Mandalorian obliges to my pitiful begging. He undoes his pants, his stiff cock eager to pop out. "Tell me if this hurts. I don't want to hurt you."

I feel a slight pressure and then...pure bliss. I cry out as he enters me, my fingernails clawing at his back. The Mandalorian props himself up on his elbows, still planting hungry kisses on neck and jawline.

My body responds to his thrusts, rocking my hips in motion with him. Each movement is ecstasy. His ragged breath in my ear sounds like a heavenly symphony.

"My needy girl," he murmurs in my ear. Wrapping one arm around me, the Mandalorian flips me over on top of him.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure what to do. The Mandalorian places his hands on my hips and guides me up and down. I throw my head back as moans escape my lips. The Mandalorian's hands skim over my body, grabbing at breasts and ass. His rough fingers caress my nipples, his touch sending shivers down my body.

Which each movement, my breasts sway up and down. Din stares at them as if they're hypnotic. His hands trail from my ass to my clit again. Using one thumb, he begins to trace circles.

I gasp, feeling the heat rising within me. My pace increases as I become desperate for more.

"Fuck," I moan as a climax shutters through my body. My thighs shake and my legs feel weak as I gasp for air.

The Mandalorian continues to guide my hips as I ride him for a few more moments. Then, I feel his cock spasm inside me. I'm shocked to feel a warmth inside me as he shoots his cum inside me.

He pulls himself out and we pause for a moment. I'm on top of the Mandalorian, my hands on his armored chest. We're both gasping for air.

"I love you," the Mandalorian says roughly, reaching up to push an errant curl out of my face.

My heart leaps at his words. We make eye contact. It's so rare for me to see his face. In a way, it feels more intimate than anything else we've done before.

"I love you too."