TWHLAY 1:4
HereForTheFanficsAndRomance Presents:
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The Way He Looks at You
Book 1
A Cal Kestis Fanfiction
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Summary:
After a devastating breakup with her Jedi boyfriend, a grieving Rebellion pilot is captured by a ruthless, yet alluring, Inquisitor. He offers to protect her secrets in exchange for her loyalty. Torn between the duty-bound Jedi she lost, and the Dark-Side enemy who wants to possess her, she must decide where her heart truly belongs.
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This story is available in First Person and Second Person points of view.
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Song for the Book: Do It All The Time by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME
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Chapter 4: The Way He Changes Me
Chapter Summary: The Inquisitor has requirements for keeping another.
Trigger Warnings: None
Song for the chapter: Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter
The moment my hurried feet touch the dull metal of the fearsome ship’s interior, the covered loading ramp shuts. I watch the bright daylight disappear, leaving me trapped in the small quarters of the Inquisitor’s standard-issue Scythe.
The Thirteenth Brother stands beside me, watching my face as I reconcile with the irrevocable fact that I can not escape him. Amusement paints his fine features, making me feel like prey he intends to toy with.
Upon facing him, I receive a once-over and a smirk. My body tenses to prepare for the worst. Will I receive my desire? Or am I about to die?
“What do you intend to—”
The Inquisitor’s face drops into a scowl, cutting off my line of questioning without words. Fear stirs in my gut. Unsure how to behave, I bow my head, hoping to appease him.
“Do not address me unless spoken to. When addressing me, you will use my proper title,” he says. “Any public display of disrespect and I will make an example of you.”
“Yes, Inquisitor.”
This was supposed to cure my unmet desires. Freedom from the strict rules on intimacy in my previous relationship. Now I am under new, unforgiving rules and no guarantee of receiving my desires.
His finger comes to my lowered chin, forcing me to look at him again. My fearful eyes meet his now-soft features, drawing me back in.
“However, in private,” he says, “I permit you to call me by my old name, Cal.”
He’s giving me this novel privilege to ease my fear. A chance to address the man he was before becoming a terrifying monster. A promise that he won’t hurt me.
“Cal,” I say, feeling its weight on my tongue. “Would you like my name?”
His hand drops away as he shakes his head. “I have no interest in your name or anything about you. If you speak aloud your past, I am expected to carry out my duties swiftly and without hesitation.”
My breath hitches at the implication—he’ll kill Theo. I want to confirm he is protecting Theo for me, but I know at best he will scold me for requesting he elaborate.
Cal moves out of the small cargo hold and into the odd cockpit, taking the pilot’s chair. There is no co-pilot seat in a Scythe. The strange triangle formation of seats accommodates a single Inquisitor and two Purge Troopers. There is no second in command, the choice is leader or subordinate.
I choose the rear seat on the left. My curiosity about this new craft outweighs my good sense, and I lean forward, trying to observe the console and features while he inputs the destination coordinates.
I get as far as confirming the number of laser cannons before Cal blocks my view. His expression reminds me that this is not a training opportunity. I open my mouth to explain that I wasn’t snooping, but close it. He’s heard my thoughts already; he’s not happy with my behavior either way.
I settle into my seat, watching as his long fingers wrap around the yoke, applying practiced force to ease us past the atmosphere and into the stars above.
It has been months since I last piloted a craft. I had to give up my prestigious role when Theo offered me a place at his side in the safe house. A life trapped on the ground took its toll on me. Every morning he left our shared home, and I would deteriorate. Upon his return each evening, his simple presence soothed my constant lack of purpose. But some nights he was distant, and my chipper outlook washed away. Leaving me painfully empty and making me reconsider my decision.
Cal engages autopilot as I avert my gaze. He rises from his high-backed seat and pulls me to my feet. His larger body herds me from the cockpit towards the small cargo hold. I stumble backwards, trying to find my footing in his swift movements.
“Eavesdropping is a quick way to shorten your life,” he says.
Cal hits a nearby control panel, and a thin door slides out, separating us and the cargo hold from the cockpit. Without space for reinforced doors inside this intimate craft, I can hear his muffled voice as he places a holocall.
They’re discussing my fate behind these thin panels. He must be getting orders for our next location. I can’t stand more unknowns, not after months of Theo leaving me in the dark.
My instinct is to press my ear to the barrier, to steal information from the Empire as he has stolen from the Rebellion. But his threat rings in my head. I turn away from the temptation, investigating the walls of the limited area.
There are fold-down seats tucked in between a series of O-ring anchors. The placement of the anchors allows for cargo to be secured—or prisoners. Despite my disgust at the prospect, I pull down the hard seat and sit.
Being alone on the ship of an Inquisitor forces me to reconcile with my new and terrifying future. My thoughts return to the events of last night. The beautiful memory sours as I remember how different Theo seemed when looking at me this morning. I was no longer the understanding girlfriend he had loved; I was instead a symbol of his failure.
Doing my best to tuck my feet up onto the small seat, I lean my worried forehead against my knees. I weep for my lost relationship and the man I had pined after. I mourn the loss of my old life. Not only have I lost Theo but also the community I had built to replace the loss of my family.
Hours pass, and I am recovering from the latest bout of tears as the thin wall slides back open, retreating out of sight as it folds away. Cal’s smug expression falls to one of obvious annoyance at the sight of me. My puffy eyes and red nose give away my weakened state.
“You’re still crying?”
His tone sounds as though he can’t understand why I would waste my time with tears. I stare past him at the cockpit.
“I’m processing,” I say. “A lot has happened today.”
He approaches, looking unimpressed. I am ashamed as his glowering gaze scolds me. He leans over me, infiltrating my space and bracing himself against the dark-paneled wall. My heart flutters.
“You were crying when I found you.”
“I was.”
“Are you going to keep doing that?”
Anger bubbles at his dismissal of my recent pain, and I glare up at him. “Are you ordering me not to?”
The outer edges of his eyes crease in amusement at my outburst. I yelled once at Theo, and his simple frown was all the punishment I needed to keep my voice soft. Cal almost seems pleased that I am angry.
I yield, not wanting to give in to the emotion further. I have no Force-sensitivity, but I understand that Dark Side Force users value intense emotions above all else to gain their immense power. If I’m going to become intimate with an Inquisitor, I could at least not fully give in to their teachings.
If Cal feels disappointed at my rejection of anger, he doesn’t show it. He drops into a squat in front of my bare knees; his fingertips brush my exposed skin. I watch his soft touch, hoping he’ll continue it up under the short hemline. He doesn’t give in.
“You keep up such a convincing act. Pretending as though you are not a passionate creature,” he says. “It’s rather disappointing; I quite like your passion.”
My heart leaps at his surprising words. He sees value in my emotions. He doesn’t want me to continue repressing the intense desire inside me. Cal wants me to feel safe being myself around him.
His nimble fingers trail up my thigh until he reaches the bunched hem of my dress. My lips part as I watch his slow movements. There is nothing I want more than his alluring touch. His calloused index finger traces the edge of the green fabric before dipping beneath with his middle. He flips his hand palm up, brushing my tender skin with the soft backs of his fingers. I let out a quiet sigh, earning a dark look as he flicks his eyes to mine.
As I shift, urging him to continue, he curls the exploring fingers with enough force to fold the material back on itself, prompting me to gasp. Cal stares up at me, tilting his head and searching my eyes. He glances at the hemline before returning to me.
“You’ll need new clothes; you’ve stored dangerous memories in these,” he says.
I struggle to keep up with his line of logic. Dangerous memories in my dress? Does he mean that by wearing it I am causing myself more pain?
“You’ll look pretty in black,” he says, shattering my thoughts with his blunt compliment.
He stands, straightening himself, and turns towards the cockpit, leaving me desperate for more. I consider asking. Begging if necessary. I hope he will give me what I want in his own time.
“Grab some seat. We’ll be landing soon.”
I stand to take my original seat, drawing deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
As the ship descends to the well-populated planet below, I find myself transfixed on Cal’s hands. My mind keeps replaying the abrupt moment he altered the state of my clothing. How he stroked my thigh with delicious indifference. The subtle claim in telling me I’d look pretty in black—the color he wears. The tantalizing eye contact he maintains when touching me.
His easy grip on the controls is mesmerizing; he applies the barest minimum force required to fly this imposing vessel. My imagination stirs up other circumstances he could use such unhurried movements.
Thoughts of his long and nimble digits pumping into my wet heat fill my mind. Cal beside me on a sofa examining a datapad, my eager legs spread and sprawled across his lap. His thumb brushes against my sensitive clit when he feels I am too quiet. He’s distracted and not caring to watch his effortless work, because his experienced fingers do not need the supervision of his eyes to draw soft sounds from my parted lips.
I let out a quiet sigh at the fantasy, and Cal’s head turns to give me a curious look. I blush and squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache while settling the lewd thoughts he surely heard.
We touch down, and I rise to my feet to follow Cal off the ship. I shift, now uncomfortable in my clothing from the buildup of arousal fluid between my legs.
Cal doesn’t look while addressing me, busy with something on the ship’s console. “Keep close unless ordered otherwise.”
I nod in acknowledgment, watching the loading platform creep towards the planet’s surface, lost in my earlier thoughts. His fingers brush mine as he passes, and as the touch lingers, I believe he will take my hand. He doesn’t.
Cal exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “I don’t suppose you can control your thoughts more?”
Embarrassment washes over me; controlling my thoughts is impossible and unfair. He could stay out of my mind instead.
“I can try,” I say.
He looks unimpressed, scowling at me. “So needy.”
I follow him into the empty streets of this city. I’m not sure where he has taken me, but based on the signage and security around the dock, I assume we are in the mid-rim. He must have business on this planet.
Fear flickers in my chest. Would he take me with him on his business? Would he force me to watch as he killed a Jedi? I feel sick at the prospect.
Cal doesn’t acknowledge these thoughts. He strides ahead, back straight and eyes forward, uncaring of my growing sense of panic. Is he ignoring me because I am about to watch him strike down another?
Painful memories of my father’s headless body crumpled on the ground fill my vision. His head rolling, lifeless eyes open wide, mouth agape.
I reach out for Cal’s hand to stop him; I need to beg him not to make me watch.
He whips around on me, his hand seizing my arm, and causing me to cry out. His face is fierce and tinged with disgust. The red Inquisitor’s face was the same the night she murdered my family.
Any kindness he showed me on his ship is long gone. Cal is no longer amused with me; he is furious. I bow my head, rattling off apologies and half-strung together explanations.
He shakes me once, silencing me. “Do not make me follow through on making an example of you. You will not embarrass me.”
I swallow hard, trying to find the right words to bring the gentle side of him back. But his ferocity is making it difficult to think straight. My mouth opens to scream, but I resist.
He glares down at me, and I shake my head, eyes wide, trying to convey my understanding. He releases me with a shove, and I stumble back before rushing to keep up with him as he continues forward.
Without his fearsome expression, I regain my ability to speak. “Yes, Inquisitor. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
Cal doesn’t respond, and we walk in silence. I scold myself for my stupidity. He had warned me to avoid disrespecting him, and the first thing I did when faced with fear was to disrespect him. The worst part is that I still don’t know if I’m about to watch him murder an innocent.
We come to a sudden stop, and I sidestep Cal’s body before colliding with it. He is facing a local eatery. Inside, a Togruta man wrings his hands behind the counter as he spots the Inquisitor outside the busy establishment. Is he Cal’s target?
Cal reaches for his utility belt, and I close my eyes. I brace for the sinister hum of his red blade.
Instead, I feel credits being pressed into my palm. “Feed yourself and do not leave this location. I will retrieve you when my business is complete.”
He works his warm fingers into his leather gloves while waiting for my verbal compliance.
“Yes, Thirteenth Brother.”
Relief floods my body, and I obey, stepping inside the eatery and approaching the counter. When I glance back, Cal is gone.
The orange-skinned man still looks nervous, touching his red and white striped lekku as though trying to reassure himself. I place my order and give my name for the meal. The man hesitates, giving me a look I can’t understand. He hands me change and a number for my table.
The food arrives at my table, and I eat like I’ve been starving, finishing the meal in less time than it took to arrive. I realize my mistake as I sit bored at the table with nothing to do but wait for my Inquisitor.
With plenty of time to kill, I visit the well-kept refresher, in need of cleaning myself after fleeing my home without even brushing my teeth. With the help of running water, I groom myself back to a presentable state. A few minutes of work return me to my normal appearance.
A small part of me hopes Cal will notice and find the change suitable—though I doubt he cares much about my outward appearance. The hunger in his eyes does not appear to be based on my looks. If it’s not my looks, then it must be the things I think. He wants me because I want him.
There is no sign of Cal as I return to my claimed table, and I’m out of ideas to keep entertained. I glance at the paper napkin dispenser and pull a few near see-through sheets from the shiny silver contraption.
It’s been years since I folded paper. The last time was on our off-balance kitchen table with my father. He would walk me through each step, his large hands demonstrating for my imitation. My fingers struggled with folding the edges into crisp lines. He would encourage me to try again, even if my paper wrinkled, until I ended up with something resembling a miniature model of my favorite starships. In the times I couldn’t succeed, he would give me his to add to my collection.
My fingers move through the basic folds with practiced ease. But on the more complicated steps, I can’t remember the tricks he taught me. Like time is stealing my memories from me.
After trying and failing to fold anything resembling the ships I once loved, I gave up. Now attempting to fold a Star Destroyer. I hate them, but they are just one giant triangle. But I’m still unable to make the paper look recognizable.
I toss my failed attempt onto my empty plate, knocking into my glass, which topples but doesn’t spill any liquid. I finished my refreshing beverage a while ago.
The few patrons turn at the sudden noise; a few even gasp. I almost roll my eyes. They’re acting as if I threw the glass across the room.
A pale hand touches my shoulder.
Oh.
It wasn’t I who was drawing their attention. I smile up at my unimpressed Inquisitor, glad to see he is relieving me of my personal folding hell. The silence of the eatery ends as everyone breaks into hushed whispers at the development. The Togruta man at the counter gives me a pitiful look. My smile falls.
Cal waits and I rise, glimpsing a flat, wrapped package tucked beneath his arm. I almost open my mouth to ask about it, but remember his rules. Opting to give him a look of acknowledgment, and bow my head as he leads me.
We walk single-file toward the Scythe. I’m looking around the mostly empty streets when Cal takes a turn I wasn’t expecting down an alleyway. There’s a trash compactor in the center, and I find myself nervous that it is my final destination. He is busy unwrapping not one, but two thin paper-wrapped parcels as I shuffle behind him.
“Take off your clothes and toss them,” he says without looking up.
My mouth gapes, and I make hesitant sounds of protest. A sharp look from him stops the unformed words, and I strip off my outer layer of clothing, tossing the pretty dress I had bought for Theo into the compactor. The delicate material soils as it flutters down to the garbage and filth below.
My hands move to hide my revealed body from view. Shame heats my cheeks and blooms across my chest as I stand exposed in the middle of the day. Cal glances up, and I stiffen further.
His gaze softens, and he pointedly eyes everything still on my body. “Those too,” he says.
“No,” I say. “I…I can’t be standing here naked in broad daylight.”
He stands tall, taking a threatening step towards me. I step back, bumping into the disgusting compactor and choosing to move back towards Cal. I cast him a pleading look. The rejection of my naked body this morning is still fresh in my mind.
His anger subsides into boredom. “Do you believe I am incapable of sensing another?”
His words don’t soothe the discomfort, and I linger, my fingers playing at the edge of my old undergarments. He rushes forward, grabbing me, fingers gripping the straps.
But he hesitates as we make contact, as if he’s realizing the onset of cruelty that is natural for his kind. His hand drops away. He doesn’t want to hurt me too.
Cal lets out a sigh, tucking the half-opened parcels back under his arm. He leans down to kiss the sensitive skin at the base of my neck, brushing the strap off my shoulder.
A moan escapes my parted lips as he chases the falling strap with a line of kisses, switching sides to mirror his actions.
He bumps his nose against my throat before pulling back. “I need you to obey.”
I hook my fingers over the edge of the undergarments, pulling them from my body and dropping them on top of my dress. No longer uncomfortable or hesitant, but desperate for more of his softer touch.
Cal tosses the brown paper of the parcels, holding black fabric in his hands. I breathe a sigh of relief. He brought me new clothes.
I step forward to retrieve the garment, but he steps back. My stomach drops. Does he expect more of me before clothing me? I search his eyes for answers.
He’s wearing the expression I like—the dark, hungry one that makes me feel desired. I want to step into his arms, to receive more of his mouth on my body.
I am not given the privilege, but he lets the heavy gaze travel down over the expanse of bare skin. His eyes washing away my prior humiliation.
Cal doesn’t make me feel I am disgusting when bare. The heat in his gaze, the lingering glances, the flick back to my eyes when he views my softer parts remind me that most men enjoy naked women.
Cal steps forward, allowing me to breathe him in. He pulls free a garment and passes the wide opening over my head until it catches at my waist. A flowy skirt flutters down to my mid-thigh.
His hands trace up my sides, holding me before seeking the armholes. He helps me fit my arms into the long sleeves that flare at the wrist, pulling it up to cover my torso and reaching behind my neck to tie it closed. Cal’s fingertips graze the skin as he ties a thorough knot, causing me to shiver.
He trails his touch down the plunging neckline—if it can be called that. His fingers slide along the edge of the deep V to where it ends just above my navel. I watch his fingers trace the thicker fabric over the swell of my breasts, wishing he would dip beneath. I feel more covered than before, but the backless dress is far from conservative.
Cal looks me over, humming in approval. “I was right.”
He revokes his touch and tosses the other heavier black garment over my shoulders, securing it in place. It’s a cloak to offer me some coverage in this otherwise very revealing dress. Cal pulls the cloak’s hood up over my head before knocking it back off.
His switch from touching me to dressing me leaves me breathless and quiet. I can’t help but look up at him, breathing in his coppery and strangely floral scent. My lips part, and I watch his pink lips as he finishes his work.
Cal takes note, stopping his movements, hands still resting near my throat. I’m holding my breath, afraid of upsetting him and losing this moment. He lowers his face until his parted lips are an inch from mine, making me dizzy with anticipation.
“Please,” I say, unable to resist him further.
His thumb and finger come to pinch my chin, holding me in place. My heart hammers, and he leans lower, his lips a breath away, before placing a light kiss at the corner of my mouth. My head tries turning to meet his lips, but Cal holds me firmly in place.
He smirks at me as I huff before pressing a symmetrical and intoxicating kiss to the opposite corner of my mouth. His thumb slides up to press into the center of my lower lip, tugging it down while his eyes burn into mine.
Cal leans in towards the captured lip and, without touching our lips together, slides his tongue into my mouth. My tongue greets him, but he ignores the gesture, swiping along the ridge of my upper teeth before pulling away.
He releases me and steps back, leaving me desperate for more. He turns to lead me back to the ship, and I break.
“Inquisitor, please, I need more.”
Cal appears victorious as he looks back at me. “I will indulge you, but not yet.”
I don’t care where he takes me; I hurry to catch up.
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