Disclaimer: Star Wars and all associated characters, plotlines, and worlds (good and bad) are property and copyright © of George Lucas (aka The Richest Man in Hollywood). This is purely for fan entertainment only.

Also, the music in this chapter is copyrighted as well, for example, Crazytown.

This one, like all the others, is rated MA.

A/N: Oddly enough, another Anidala idea came to mind and wants to be written now. I have no idea how long it's going to be or whether it's going to have a plot or not, but I wanted to play.

Chapter 1

The dark room was packed with bodies gyrating to the loud music, the beat thumping in the floor. A mixture of alcohol, sweat and alluring perfume wafted through the dance floor. Glittery costumes and makeup flitted with the colored lights bouncing through the hall. It was the perfect place for a Jedi Knight and his illicit lover to let loose with anonymity.

She wore her hair pined to her head as usual, but this time he appreciated the view, watching the sweat glisten on the sweet line of her neck as she moved. Her normal regal gowns had been tossed aside, favoring much lighter- and skimpier- attire. The top danced above her mid-rift, a deep burgundy. It clung tightly to her and highlighted her cleavage. The skirt hugged her hips, completing the entire eye candy package.

He grinned as a favorite song came on, murmuring into her ear a few of the words, "Cum my lady, cum, cum, my lady." He smirked, pressing against her, his hand going to her hip. "I'll make your legs shake, you make me go crazy." He drawled, losing track of the music.

Padmé grinned and turned around, allowing her butt to rub against his crotch as she moved with the music, also giving him a shot of the back of her outfit. The top was laced together in the back, a few delicate ribbons the only thing keeping the flimsy thing on her. The bare skin taunted him, daring him to press heated kisses to it. He clamped his eyes, trying to shut out the image of bending his head to drag his lips over her shoulder and upper back as he took her from behind.

With a wicked grin, he projected the image to her, informing her of exactly what he wanted to do. She turned around, snaking a hand into his spiky blond hair. "Anakin, later." She murmured for his ears only.

He cocked an eyebrow, his eyes wandering down her, mentally undressing her, fueling his own frustration, "What, I can't take you right here?" he smirked, trailing a finger down the side of her face.

She shuddered, knowing Anakin had the guts to do it, no matter what the consequences. "No, that wouldn't do." She whispered.

He called on the images from last time, his hands wandering aimlessly as she straddled his lap, calling on her thighs to rise and fall over his hard cock. He projected these images to her, watching her turn bright crimson under the flashing lights.

Anakin's groin tightened as he watched her mouth part, remembering the gasps that he normally elicited from them. He sent her images of a time prior, but recent, in which she had thrown Sabé into the mix. "How about that?" The mere thought of the experience was enough to wipe his grin from his face and practically leave him drooling. Two Padmés…

Padmé laughed lightheartedly, remembering the time herself. "No, that was just a one-time experience, my dear lover."

He leaned closer, tracing a line underneath her chin, watching her shiver, "But you handled it so well."

She shook her head, giggling with abandon as her hips swayed to the music. He watched, mesmerized. "I knew you were simply worshipping me through her. And I wanted you to have your little fantasy for once."

His grin returned, and she flushed with the implications in his dark eyes. "But what fantasy can I fill for you?" laughter crinkled his eyes as he suggested, "Perhaps you want Obi-Wan in our bed."

Her eyes widened, cheeks flushed. She looked around in the club, suddenly self-conscious. "Anakin! Even if I wanted that, he would never go for it!"

Anakin laughed, "Perhaps if he thought you were Sabé." A plan was already starting to formulate in his brain. Oh how he loved it when she blushed!

She grabbed his hand as the music changed abruptly, the rhythm reminding her of other uses for Anakin's gyrating hips. She looked up at him through lowered lids, "So are we going to get out of here and are you going to fuck me, or what?"

All you had to do was say "fuck me". He wouldn't stay in the club another thirty seconds.

I wasn't anticipating on writing another one, nor do I have an inkling of how long it's going to last.

Just let me know what you think, and we'll see. Where is all this Anidala coming from!