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It’s safe to say that you’re the happiest you have ever been–satisfied in more ways than you knew was possible. You couldn’t believe this was your life now, getting to see new planets, tinker on a real ship everyday and not just broken speeder bikes that you found abandoned in the alley, befriending the cutest green baby you’ve ever seen in your kriffing life and…Mando.
You fell hard and you fell fast for the Mandalorian, and since that fateful night when he finger-fucked you until you couldn’t see straight, a contrast from his sweet words and caresses against any part of your skin he could reach, he was somehow on your mind even more. Your encounters with him after that were more of what you had expected should you ever be able to get into the Mandalorian’s bed—fast, rough, with both of you wearing most of your clothes, him shucking off his gloves and easing that gorgeous cock out of his canvas pants, and you dropping your jacket and undoing your utility belt as fast as possible, sometimes pulling your breasts out of your shirt if you were feeling particularly cheeky.
The lack of helmet was new, though.
You knew how important it was to him so you never even thought to ask him to take it off, no matter how much you wanted to kiss him or feel his mouth on your body–kissing down your neck, sucking at your nipples, lapping at your cunt like you often imagined when you fantasized about him. However, and quite unexpectedly, he took that next step on his own.
One day, long after the baby was asleep, Mando had you pressed against the bulkhead of the Razor Crest while he fucked you, gloved hand covering one of your tits and you moaned at his low voice when he told you how much he wanted to taste you. He told you how he wanted you to soak his face in your cum, make you extra wet before he slid inside of you. You figured it was just dirty talk, just him babbling about your body as he tends to do when he’s deep inside you, after all he was about to go on a hunt and wanted his fill of you before he had to leave again.
Eight days passed, and you learned of his return in the middle of the night, passed out after a long day of chasing around the kid, extra fussy with his father gone, and doing a market run to replenish your sorry food supply. You were in his cramped cot, mumbling sleepily when he tried to talk to you, only half-aware of him until he pulled you from your nest of blankets into his arms, strong and sturdy even when missing his usual beskar. Your mind didn’t catch up to what was happening until Mando kissed your forehead, then proceeded to press kisses all over your cheeks before settling on your lips. You melted into him, surprised at his facial hair that you weren’t expecting, the curve of what felt like a large nose pressing into your cheek, and when you reached your hands up to his head you felt his hair, sweaty from the helmet and you wondered for the millionth time what color it was.
Since then, he’s had no qualms about taking off the helmet as long as the room was dark or your eyes were otherwise covered and that became the new normal. The darkness was usually for nighttime romps, but he was also partial to having the lights on while you wore a blindfold, telling you about how much he wanted to see your gorgeous body, a thought that was both sweet and made you feel very sexy.
You want to ask if he’ll try something new with you, something you’ve fantasized about since you first realized your attraction to him. You’re normally not shy about telling him what you want (unless he wants you to be) but you didn’t know if he would be up for this. This new development in your relationship gave you the courage to ask, now that you realize how much closer you’ve gotten, you want to be more open with him.
“Hey, I have something I want to ask,” you say late at night, playing with Mando’s hair as his head rests on your chest, both of you still sweaty from your orgasms, your jaw in particular aching from having him in your mouth.
You feel an exhale against the nipple that isn’t already covered by his head. “Yeah?” he rumbles against your skin.
“I was wondering if you wanted to try some roleplay. But I have something kind of specific in mind. You can say no, we can forget I ever brought it up if you don’t like it,” you rush to say, the hand playing with his hair moving to stroke it across his forehead.
You feel his brow furrow under your hand. “What do you have in mind?” One of his hands raises to tweak the nipple right in front of his face, unseen in the dark. He isn’t even trying to rile you up again, he just likes touching you, likes feeling the weight of your breasts in his big hands. You had quickly learned that after you had started sleeping together, and never complained when he got handsy.
“I…um,” your cheeks heat up as you curl the hand resting on his back. “What if I pretended to be your, uh, bounty?” you nearly squeak out.
You expect him maybe to scoff at the idea, but what you don’t expect is for him to chuckle and press a kiss to your sternum.
“So you want me to put you in stuncuffs and fuck you with my armor on while I call you a brat? Did I get that right?”
Oh, you clench hearing Mando say that, sure that he can feel the gush of wetness on his thigh that’s currently situated between your legs. He hums against your skin, now raised with goosebumps as he kisses across your breasts and takes your hardening nipple into his mouth, lightly kneading your surrounding breast as he sucks. You begin to grind against his thigh and he pops off your nipple, his hand snakes down your belly until it reaches its destination, his fingers ghosting over your mound then dipping under sopping folds to feel your pretty clit that finally perked up again.
“You think this pussy would get you out of trouble?” he asks, and you nod, delighted at the feeling of his cock hard against your hip again. Realizing he can’t see you, you answer verbally.
“Yes, I already know how much you love it.” You stop grinding for a moment, wanting to make something clear before you get lost in each other again. “So it’s not weird for you? Like, I know it’s your job, I don’t want you to think that I think that’s what you actually do. I’m not attracted to you just for being a ‘big, bad bounty hunter’…” you trail off awkwardly.
You feel Mando shuffle on top of you, his hands moving off your body, then see his shape in the dark hover above you before he bends down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, kissing and kissing and kissing you and all you can do in response is tangle your fingers in his hair. His tongue traces your teeth as his nose awkwardly knocks into yours but neither of you care. When he pulls away and you finally catch your breath, you feel him panting right over you.
“You know that’s not what this is,” he says quietly.
You love him. You haven’t told him yet but you know you do. You’re not always sure what this relationship is, but when he says things like this, holds you this tenderly, you know it’s not just sex, it never was.
Two thick fingers are suddenly between your legs, gathering the wetness there before sliding easily into your cunt. You throw your head back and push your chest up as your body arches when Mando finds that sweet spot in your pussy wall and mercilessly drags his fingers against it. You’re surprised how quickly it happens, soon enough you’re seeing stars, your legs are going stiff, you’re so close, so kriffing close and then—
The headiness in the room is broken by one very loud cry from a certain green baby, surely a blubbering mess in his hammock. You both curse and Mando slides his fingers from you while you wipe the spit from around your mouth and push your hair from your eyes. You sit up and mentally cool off before sliding out of bed. “I’ll get him.”
“No,” Mando tries to argue, “just give me a second.”
“My hands are clean. Or clean er ,” you counter while bending over to grab a shirt from the floor, not sure if it’s yours or his. You’re about to open the door to the hold when you feel a yank on the back of your shirt, your ass suddenly falling back into Mando’s naked body, now sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t forget these,” he mumbles into your neck before kissing it as he presses your balled-up underwear into your hand. Right…you probably want to cover up when you go tend to the kid.
So…you were probably taking this way too seriously.
You and Mando had talked a lot about this scenario, came up with a story for your character, established boundaries, a safe word, and general guidelines, planning on a loose direction for the scene but still with room to surprise each other. You made a day of it, landing in Gorse for the supplies that you needed anyway. You picked your clothes carefully, something smart that you would wear on the run but also something that you know the Mandalorian would find enticing: the tightest pants you own, a typical shirt with the collar undone low enough to show the tops of your breasts, a vest that you hardly ever wear because it doesn’t cover your midriff but might emphasize the taper of your waist. No panties, of course. The last step before your game began was getting the child away for a few hours. The Mandalorian had taken him to a local daycare for the day, promising to pick him up by supper. You hated being away from the baby for so long but this was good for him—Mando confessed to you that he often felt guilty that he didn’t get to spend much time with other children. He told you about their stay on Sorgan a while back and how the baby had made friends with the kids who lived there, how much they loved him, and how he hadn’t had an experience like that since.
You use that drop off time to get a head start, setting the scene by browsing the wares at an outdoor market. You would have to remember to ask Mando if you three can go back later to actually shop because you see a lot of things that pique your interest. You had already gotten basic supplies but now you find yourself eyeing a pair of earrings with striking green gemstones hanging off of them. You weren’t much of a jewelry person but these were handcrafted and very pretty–a decent price too. You look through racks of formal attire–various robes and dresses that look like they would be worn by royalty or in the Senate. You didn’t have very many nice clothes–you weren’t sure when or why you would need any but it seemed like something that would be useful to have. You see a deep blue dress on a mannequin and stare for a moment, wondering what Mando would think if you wore something like that. He had only ever seen you in simple shirts and pants, worn out clothes that you’ve owned for years. A nagging voice in the back of your head wonders if he would find you pretty or just think it would look silly.
Soon enough, you can almost sense the bounty hunter watching you. You turn your head ever so slightly over your shoulder to see a glimmer of beskar a few stalls over, shrouded by the smoke from the nerf being grilled at that cart. This hasn’t even started yet and you already feel a rush of adrenaline, thinking quickly about what you would do if you were trying to hide. You both agreed not to cause a scene, so you scan the open square, trying to find an alley that you could slip into, unnoticed. You keep your head down and walk briskly to the outside of the square, but not before stopping at a stall to compliment an old woman on the craftsmanship of the gloves she had strewn on the table. You briefly wonder if Mando needs any spare gloves but continue to the rendezvous point.
The alley is empty which is good news. You two weren’t going to start anything spicy out here but you didn’t want anyone to intervene either. You sit on the edge of a stack of crates against the wall and kick your feet over the stone ground, eyes darting everywhere to make sure Mando wasn’t already hidden here. He could be so quiet despite the pounds of metal strapped to his body, it almost defied logic.
The top piece of a nearby scrap metal tower suddenly falls and startles you, you jump to your feet at the noise, walking further into the alley, head whipping back and forth to find your intruder. No one is there and you take a few steps back to sit on the crate—right into a very solid, very warm mass of man. You gasp as you look down to see the orange fingers of his gloves pull your wrists together as you’re forced into his chest and all you can feel is the Mandalorian surrounding you.
“Stay still,” he grunts as you try to struggle, “I was told to bring you in unscathed.” You can hear his gritted teeth.
“There must be some kind of mistake,” you try to dive out of his grasp and your feet kick uselessly as he holds you up with little effort, “You have the wrong person! Let me go!”
Mando shifts your body so he has one arm wrapped around you, his free hand is outstretched, displaying a puck in front of you, a fuzzy holo of your face barely visible in the bright sunlight. You didn’t know he had that and you’re impressed at the artistic touch.
“Please,” you plead, “I can’t go back.” You squirm against his front, hoping your ass would rub his groin, so desperate to tease him while still playing the part.
“Save it,” Mando nearly growls before shoving you against a higher stack of crates, pulling your arms behind your back and working the cuffs over your wrists. You flex your hands, surprised at the soft inside of the cuffs. You two hadn’t used stuncuffs in any of your previous activities, instead using other types of restraints, so you were flattered that he took the time to pad the insides.
Mando grabs you by the back of your vest and pushes you towards the exit of the alley. Once you were outside of the structure that housed the market, he lets go of you but still hovers right behind as you start the walk back to the Razor Crest. You wonder if you should be extra bratty and try to make a run for it, but that might be a little much. Still, you’d love to feel his whole body against yours again, but you knew that would happen soon enough on the ship. You could wait till then.
You spend the whole walk pretending to be terrified, turning your head behind you to gaze into the Mandalorian’s helmet with sad eyes. You even manage to shed a few tears, but you know full-on crying would definitely kill the mood. Your cunt clenches around nothing as you scan his body while he walks, taking in his confident stride, those broad shoulders only emphasized by the pauldrons, the way his hands keep clenching at his sides. You wonder if he’ll leave his gloves on when he fucks you.
Eventually you end up at the Crest and you wrinkle your nose as Mando opens the ramp. “What a piece of junk,” you grumble as he pushes you up the ramp and into the hold, you frown as you take in your surroundings. The bounty hunter is still behind you, and you whip around to face him, getting close, tilting your head up to see as close to eye-to-eye as is possible with the helmet. “You can’t take me back, please. I can pay you—whatever my husband is paying, I can double it.”
Mando is still for a moment, then you see his shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath. He’s intimidating like this and it’s so kriffing sexy. You’re already impatient and you just want to get to the part where he makes you scream while he splits you open.
“Okay. Where are the credits?” His voice is low and it makes your clit throb as you swallow in faux-fear.
“I…I don’t h-have them with me. But I can—” he cuts you off by roughly grabbing your arm, dragging you in the direction of the carbon-freezing chamber. “Wait, wait!” you cry out. “I’ll let you fuck me,” you say, pressing against him with your whole body now. He stops his movement but keeps a firm grasp on your arm.
He looks you up and down and scoffs. “You think your pussy is worth that much, you brat?”
“Only one way to find out,” you challenge him. You’d give anything to have your hands free, to be able to palm his cock, but this made the encounter better—made it more authentic.
“I don’t think your husband would like that,” Mando says, though there’s no genuine hesitation in his voice, and you feel his grip loosen, his hand traveling up your arm and to your shoulder.
“He’ll never know,” you insist. You didn’t even have to act anymore, you knew the lust in your eyes was apparent because it was real.
The Mandalorian grabs your chin in one hand and pulls you so your face is inches from his helmet. “When I’m done with you, he’ll know. You’ll be full of my cum and begging your husband to give you back to that bounty hunter because no one else made you feel like he did.” You’re sure that there’s a stain in your pants by now, yet another pair ruined by Mando and his unbelievable dirty talk.
You look down between your bodies and see the bulge in his pants, the image breaking his aloof façade. “You look like you need help with that. Do you want my mouth or my pussy?”
Instead of answering, Mando lets go of your chin and grabs the front of your shirt, walking you backwards until your back hits the bulkhead and you positively squirm in anticipation while he stares at you, the hand gripping you eventually opens and you look down at your chest as two fingers tug your collar as low as it will go, which admittedly isn’t very low, but the fabric snaps back into place when he removes his fingers.
“First of all, I want to see what you’re hiding under there.”
A large, gloved hand smooths over the bare part of your chest before his other hand joins it to undo the clasps hidden by the fold on your shirt. The beige fabric parts asymmetrically and Mando lets it hang at your sides while he considers your bra, presumably figuring out the best way to free your breasts while your wrists are still cuffed: good thing you planned ahead.
“It opens in the front,” you say, breaking character to tell him, not sure if he would notice that on his own. The bulkiness of the gloves impedes him slightly but Mando eventually unclasps it between the cups and lets them fall along with your shirt. Your nipples are hard from the cool air in the Crest as well as your arousal. The Mandalorian’s visor is tilted down as he watches your breasts move from your deep breaths, and you feel another gush between your legs as the beskar helmet in front of you tilts to one side.
Orange leather surrounds your left breast as the man in front of you feels the weight in his hand, pinches the plump of it before rubbing his thumb over the peaked nipple. He rolls it between his fingers hard enough for you to gasp and you look down at your chest with your lip between your teeth, turned on by how sexy the sight of his gloved hand playing with your tit is.
“Huh,” Mando said, continuing to inspect you, “your puck never mentioned that you had fucking perfect tits.” Your face flushes at his words and you gasp when he slaps one lightly, watching them bounce now that they were free from their confines.
His hand travels down your body to cup your hip, his other hand joining on the opposite side, fingers grasping the flesh there. “Has your husband put any kids in you yet? With these hips and those tits you would be perfect for it.” Your belly feels like it’s on fire from Mando’s dirty words, you can’t believe how turned on you are from him talking about you like you were some orbak he was going to buy for breeding. There wasn’t a part of your body that the Mandalorian hadn’t told you that he loved but hearing it phrased in this slightly degrading way was…something.
“You can slip your helmet off and have a taste. I promise I won’t look,” you reply, attempting a confident smirk. You knew he wouldn’t do it for the roleplay, but you were already thinking about asking him to go down on you later tonight, sad that you would have to go without it for now. Mando takes a step forward and presses himself to you once again, making sure there was no mistaking how hard he was before gripping your chin, forcing your mouth slightly open and running his thumb across your lower lip.
“I’m more interested to see what this mouth can do. If it can suck my cock half as well as it can talk back then I’ll be very satisfied.” You shiver at the thought. You aren’t very confident in your abilities to go down on him without the assistance of your hands so this might mean he was going to fuck your face instead and fuck if your clit didn’t throb at the scenario—the bratty little bounty, desperate to take the Mandalorian’s huge cock in her mouth while her husband waits for her at home.
Your faux-captor gives each breast one last squeeze before forcing you onto your knees in front of him, shucking his gloves off and gathering a fistful of hair to force your head to look up at him in the visor. His thumb rubs over your lips again, but bare this time, you let him probe into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit before he pulls it out. You watch in awe as that same hand goes to his crotch, rubbing the erection that’s straining through his pants. “Fuck, your lips are soft,” Mando grunts quietly. It’s such a tender thing to say that you almost wonder if he broke character by accident.
You watch intently as he unfastens his pants, pushing them down enough to pull out his cock, almost fully hard and you feel your mouth water at the sight. You remember your role and widen your eyes, acting shocked at his size. You picture a satisfied smirk under the helmet.
“Too much for you sweetheart? Think you’ll choke on it?” He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls you closer to him and your tits bounce with the movement, heaving as you breathe in loudly through your nose. His other hand wraps around his cock, pulling back the foreskin to reveal the leaking head, giving it a few strokes before guiding it to your face, poking the tip against your lips until your mouth opens.
“You can take it,” he coos, mockingly, “I know you can.”
You can only look up at him with watery eyes as your jaw stretches, you focus on breathing through your nose, groaning around his dick until it goes as far as it can and hits the back of your throat. You feel like you’re about to gag but manage to tamp it down, move your tongue as best as you can around the massive intrusion in your mouth. You pull your head back to sloppily swirl around the glans, the sound your mouth makes is very unattractive but Mando just holds the base of his dick and stares down at you, keeping in character by not stroking your face or neck like he usually would.
“I want to come down that throat so bad but I want to fuck that wet pussy even more,” he rumbles, voice so deep under the helmet. You moan around his length, thinking about how soaked your own pants are by now, you must be dripping. “Fuck, you are wet, aren’t you?” Mando says, finally keeping your head still while he thrusts into your mouth. “I knew you would get wet from sucking dick, you filthy little girl.”
If you could smile around his cock, you would, heat already blooming in your chest. You loved when he was mean to you. You focus on your breathing, in and out through your nose, giving him your best doe eyes while he fucks your face. When Mando pulls away from you, you want to whine when you see the long strand of saliva that still connects him to your lips, but let out a few heavy breaths instead.
“Pretty girl, pretty mouth…” he hums while stroking your hair back with one large hand, “I bet that cunt is real pretty too.” He suddenly fists your hair and hauls you up onto your feet, making you genuinely wince at the unexpected motion. At least he doesn’t drag you by the hair after that, instead opting to walk to a large metal crate that was fastened to the opposite bulkhead–supplies the two of you have been too lazy to unpack yet. The Mandalorian’s stiff form molds into your back and you gasp when you feel his dick, still wet with your saliva, pressing against your lower back, making you squirm in his hold, but he just holds you tighter, one hand moving up to grab onto one of your breasts that are still exposed.
You feel his helmet press against the side of your face, but you don’t turn to him, instead looking down at the hand playing with your nipple once again, rubbing before twisting hard enough to make you yelp. “Do you think bratty girls deserve to have their pussies played with?” His low voice is right in your ear, even through the helmet. You shiver and wiggle your hips, hoping to grind your ass on his cock, make him get on with it.
“I don’t want it played with, I want you to fuck me like a man.”
That gets his attention and the upper half of your body is shoved down onto the crate, your cheek pressing into the metal. You had made it very clear to Mando earlier that you were fine with being thrown around like a normal bounty and would be very vocal if it was too rough. He pauses after this particular action, waiting to see if you were okay to keep going, and when you say nothing he continues on, unfastening your pants and shoving them down to your knees.
You squeak much higher than you mean to when you feel a sharp crack against your ass, his large hand resting over the sore flesh afterwards.
“You want me to leave bruises for your husband to see?”
“Yes… fuck yes…” your voice is muffled by the crate as you turn your head, squeezing your eyes shut.
Smack after smack rains down on your poor, tender ass and you fucking love every second of it. Before you met Mando, you had been with a few men, but not many, most of them teenage fumbles. You never thought about being spanked until you and the Mandalorian were having sex one time and he smacked your ass a bit harder than he meant to while taking you from behind. It made you cry out and he immediately apologized, but was delighted when you assured him that you were okay and even asked him to do it again. After coming in you, he spread you out over his lap and spanked you until you had tears running down your face, staining the blindfold that at this point you were accustomed to wearing. Mando told you later that he wasn’t sure what the better sight was, the shape of his handprint bruised into your pretty cheeks, or his cum that slowly dribbled down your thigh as he disciplined you.
The tears come again this time as you cry out, delighted at the idea of feeling him every time you sit down for the next several days. Fuck, you are soaked and you wouldn’t be surprised if your slick was visible to Mando at this point. He finally stops, giving your ass one last caress before he spreads your pussy open using his thumb and forefinger, almost clinically, and fuck you can hear how wet you are.
“You are fucking dripping ,” you hear Mando growl as he inspects you. “You’re such a whore, getting this wet from sucking dick and getting your ass spanked.”
You surprise yourself that you even have the mental capacity to respond when you quip back at him, “Is my pussy pretty enough to let me go?”
He spanks you again hard and you stiffen in shock, not even yelping, your mouth opening but no sound coming out as you press your forehead into the crate, sucking up a large breath through your nose. You feel a bare hand run under your shirt and up your back, genuinely soothing.
“Are you okay, was that too much?” Mando asks, using his normal voice, not the gruff one reserved for bounties. You hadn’t used the safe word but your reaction must have worried him enough to make him stop.
You turn your head so your voice isn’t as muffled. “I’m fine. That last one was just a bit too much. I’m okay but just take it easy there.”
“Do you want to keep going?” The hand on your back starts rubbing small circles.
“Yes, please. Just no more spanking.”
You practically hear Mando smile. “No more spanking.”
He removes his hand and for a moment you can’t hear any movement, no indication of what’s happening. A low moan comes from the helmet and suddenly all you can hear after that is some wet sounds, and your face heats up as you realize Mando is getting himself hard again. Or harder, you’re not sure if his erection ever completely flagged. Soon enough, you feel that heavy cock press against your entrance, Mando expertly slipping it through your folds, getting it nice and wet. You’re nearly vibrating with anticipation when he finally enters you, that thick, beautiful cock breaking you open as he pins your cuffed wrists against your lower back, keeping you from wriggling against him.
“Fuck, this cunt is tight,” Mando groans, breathy, “Not even sure how I fit.”
“Please, please, please fuck me…fuck me and I’ll do whatever you want,” you plead out, pretending to sound out of breath, like you were struggling to take the Mandalorian’s cock for the first time. You’ve taken it many times but it still is always a bit of a stretch.
“Dirty little girl likes getting fucked by bounty hunters…don’t worry, I won’t tell your husband,” he says mockingly before he starts a rhythm, the first thrust so forceful it nearly makes your feet come off the ground, your tiptoes brushing against the floor.
You try not to act too fake but you make every sound you can, you whine and moan and curse as you get pounded, your cries slightly quieted by the sound of his hips slapping against your ass, blooming with bruises. He feels so good, he always feels good, he hits spots you didn’t even know you had, gives you pleasure that you didn’t know existed, makes you feel things that you’d never felt for any other man.
“You poor girl, you’ve never had good dick in your life, have you?”
“No-no! Never…”
“Such a shame,” he tuts, trying to sound cocky but is just as dazed and out of breath as you are, “Your husband doesn’t appreciate this amazing pussy. The way you’re squeezing my cock, fuck , maybe you are worth those credits.”
“P-please, Mandalorian, I’m so close…” you trail off with a gasp when you feel his fingers slide along the mess where you two connected before rubbing your clit in quick circles, just the way he knows you like it. Your nipples are hard both with arousal and from the cool surface of the crate you’re pressed against. Your bound hands itch to play with them–something Mando loves watching you do in particular. He always loves watching you pleasure yourself whenever his own hands are occupied.
Your nose smushes into the crate below you as he pins you down with a particularly deep thrust, his cock feels like it’s in your stomach and you recognize the moan he makes when he’s about to come. The warmth that releases inside you is paired with the slight pain of his nails digging into your already bruised ass, unable to help himself as he makes sure you take all he has to give. Your orgasm, so close just a moment ago, starts to slip away from you when Mando pulls out. You’re a bit disappointed, but maybe that was just part of the roleplay–he was just using you and not giving a thought to your own pleasure.
Your disappointment quickly turns to surprise as you feel a big hand on your shoulder, turning you onto your back where you’re greeted with the most beautiful sight of a fucked-out Mando. He’s softening, but you can see the glisten of your wetness coating the coarse hair above his cock and you especially enjoy the peek you get of his belly as his shirt is rucked up. His broad shoulders are moving as he catches his breath from his release and for a moment his visor just stares at you before one of his messy hands grips your fluttering cunt, easily pushing two fingers in and thrusting, thumb resuming his motions on your clit. Your thighs clench around his hand and it doesn’t take long to work you up again to the orgasm you were chasing, trying to ignore the slight discomfort of your hands still pinned behind your back.
“C’mon pretty girl…” Mando says in his low, post-coital voice and you're gone–gripping his fingers as you squirm in his hold, head thrown back while you cry out.
When you finally come down, you feel fingers ease out of you and he holds up his hand for you to see–his own cum that was inside you now coats his fingers and you whimper at the sight. You startle slightly as that same hand grabs your breast, kneading it briefly before pinching your hard nipple, spreading his cum on it as he swirls his thumb in a circle.
“What are you doing?” you ask, not sure whether you two were supposed to still be in character or not.
“Your tits are just so pretty…I missed looking at them while you were facing down. But fuck , look at you now with those tits out and your legs open…this pussy looks so perfect all messy. I just want to keep looking at you.”
And look at you he did, caressing your breast in a way that felt strangely comforting rather than overtly sexual. When Mando is done with that, he skims his hands over the length of your body, over your curves and the tops of your thighs before bringing his hands back to his own person to tuck himself back into his pants and fasten them.
He walks out of sight for a few moments and you’re left laying half naked in your cuffs, your lower body a mess, wondering where Mando is going with the scene from here, but he returns quite soon and sits down on one of the seats attached to the wall across from you, his legs spread out, making himself occupy as much space as possible. You notice his gloves are back on and he’s holding something in his hand that you can’t make out at first, but he presses a button and you see a small projection of your face again–your puck. You immediately bite your lip and close your legs, attempting to sit up with your hands still bound, imagining the mix of arousal and humiliation that this bounty might feel.
“I have three pucks left after this before I have to make a trip back to drop everyone off and get my payment. That will probably take me…” he pauses, tilts his helmet like he’s thinking, “a few weeks. Maybe more, maybe less.” The holo of you disappears and he holds the puck up, “I will destroy this on two conditions–the first being that you pay me double what was on your head. The second…” he stands up and stalks towards you, a gloved hand running up your bare leg before suddenly grabbing your chin, turning your head to look him in the eye, or what you assume is his eyes, “is that you stay with me on this ship until I finish collecting those quarries, and let me fuck you whenever and how ever I want. Then I’ll drop you off wherever you please. How does that sound?” He lets your jaw go and you swallow hard, very conscious of your nudity.
You flutter your eyelashes and curl into yourself slightly. “Just let me know when you’re ready for round two, Mandalorian.”
You lay in bed later in total darkness, exhausted and content. You were being held tight by the man you love, surrounded by his warmth, and you had never felt safer.
“Hey, Mando.”
“Hm?” he hummed.
“Can we do that again?” you ask sheepishly, already thrilled by what may be to come.
“I was just about to ask you that, too,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss below your ear, nose bumping against one of your new earrings. You giggle from the tickle it gives you, and hold his hand tightly in yours.