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Something in the Force tells Kylo Ren he can bare his face to this nobody girl. He obeys, not wishing to question the Force save for its small, incessant urges for him to return to the light. Even so, he cannot begin to guess exactly how much it would compel him to get close to her.
Kylo spends some time turning over the memories in the girl’s mind on his way to extricating the map. She too has felt loneliness and desolation in no small amount during her time as a scavenger on Jakku.
But she is just that, Kylo reminds himself, a scavenger from a backwater planet. He will discard her once she is no longer useful.
The pragmatic nature of his thoughts belie the way his gaze lingers on her as he works. Hers is a subtle beauty compounded by the fear and anger she exudes. The light dusting of freckles prettily sprayed across the bridge of her nose are nothing like the dark, raised moles that dot his face. The way her slight chest heaves beneath the rags she wears with the stress of him in her mind continually draws his eyes.
Kylo feels a primal stirring in his guts that he attempts to crush with his usual single-mindedness. He is not here for the girl, he is here for the map.
Still, he can enjoy the earthy, dusty scent she gives off and the way it makes him feel, he reasons as he leans in closer to get a whiff. She glares, then turns away when he gets too close for comfort. At the same time, his probe gets closer to her core. Her mind gives a figurative thrash in an attempt to dislodge him. He only immerses himself further, allowing the dark gouts of her emotions to swallow him up. This proves his undoing, as he feels something in her mind that he should not.
His hand twitches and his fingers draw back almost imperceptibly.
The sudden thread of energy that he detects between his mind and hers does not go away. If anything, the harder he tries to push it away, the more it twists in and compounds on itself until it is thick and taut. He recognizes the thrill that runs through his body and it sickens him.
The light burns, twisting and charring his guts. And yet… there is sudden clarity that accompanies the sensation. Something clicks. He had known the pain of being rend apart by the light, but he had not yet experienced having it fit like a missing piece inside of himself. In a way, knowing that it took as much to complete him is almost worse.
And yet, he cannot resist. These feelings pouring into him are addictive, completing what he had not known was missing something in his withered heart and battle torn mind.
Kylo sucks in a breath and shudders. He feels… good. Better than he has felt in quite some time. He is whole in a way that he had never felt in his attempts to fuel himself with the light or the darkness.
Who is this girl?
A similar experience runs through her mind. He can see it in the way that her eyes widen and fill with tears until the very stars seem to shine in them. How can she be upset at something so beautiful? Can she not feel the Force willing it?
He reaches out to wipe away a tear that slips down her cheek, but she turns away and wipes her face on one of the wraps slung around her shoulder.
“What are you doing to me?” Her voice, continual ferocity notwithstanding, trembles as if he has struck her.
“Don’t be afraid, Rey,” he says, rolling the monosyllabic name over on his tongue.
He detects her shock at him knowing her name despite her controlled expression and he has to smother a grin. After sloughing through her deepest, darkest fears, plucking the name from her head is almost a joke.
“Stay still,” Kylo says.
This is all the warning he gives before unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and thumbing it to life. He takes hold of her clothes at the neckline, pulling them away from her body. The top half of her shirt and wrap are cut apart with one slash neatly down the middle. Rey is no worse for wear save for where some of the errant sparks caught on the skin of her belly. Even so, she shakes a little and tries to set her jaw as she blinks back more tears.
“I’m not going to kill you,” he says, shaking his head a little at the absurdity of the idea as he shuts his lightsaber off and attaches it back to his belt.
Whether for the sake of the map or for their newfound bond, Kylo could not even begin to consider it. He pushes some of the interest he feels for her at her mind, then gives Rey a calming stroke on the cheek with his knuckles. He almost earns a bite on the hand for his troubles. The same hand moves to push the ruined pieces of her shirt aside.
“Don’t,” she says.
Kylo pauses. He purses his lips and tilts his head, then decides to indulge her for the moment. Reluctantly, he tears his scrutiny from the strip of flesh already laid bare and glances up to meet her gaze.
She looks surprised that he complied with her, but her expression hardens before long. “Don’t you dare touch me, you vile creature.”
“Beg me not to.”
Rey’s eyes narrow and she lifts her chin.
“Didn’t think so.” Kylo shakes his head. “Where did a scavenger get so much pride?”
Rey spits in his face. Kylo’s cheek twitches as the gob of saliva runs down it. He whips out his lightsaber once more and directs all of his anger at the closest wall. Once the fury has bled from him and his brain stops throbbing, he wipes the saliva from his cheek on the back of his glove. He turns back to Rey to find her a shade whiter.
“Now, where were we?”
He reaches down to push apart her ruined top and wrap, jostling her nipples with pointed shoves of his fingers. His other hand joins its partner as he cups her breasts. The barely-there mounds of flesh are only enough to fill his palms. Nevertheless, he takes a great amount of pleasure in alternating between massaging and squeezing them until the flesh bulges between his fingers. Rey twists and tenses in her restraints with the worst of it, shifting to the point of her ribs just below standing out.
No one has ever touched her this way before. Her thoughts run rampant with it, erratic and afraid and angry that he is the first. She succeeded in fighting off anyone who has ever tried up until this point.
Kylo, meanwhile, resolves to make her first sexual encounter memorable. His desire suffuses with the fire of her resistance until it is a hot welter of emotion.
He pulls off the glove on his right hand to better feel her chest’s squashy-soft consistency. Using his teeth, he tugs each of the fingers of his glove off by the tips so he does not have to remove his other hand from her and the glove falls with an unceremonious slap on the ground.
Kylo’s hand, lily-white thanks to being kept sheathed from natural sunlight for years, looks all wrong cupping the curve of Rey’s breast next to its dark twin. He knows the varying textures of his skin and the leather will do wonders to her senses, though, so he keeps his left glove on for now as he kneads her meager tits.
He thumbs at her nipples and eyes her face. She has twisted her head to one side and shut her eyes, so she does not expect it when he envelops the tip of her breast in his mouth. It is plushy-soft against the roof of his mouth and his tongue. He sinks his teeth in the slightest bit as he begins to suckle, pulling exquisite whines from her throat.
He can feel his own nipples tighten in sympathy as if there are phantom hands and a mouth pressed to him, caressing him. Somehow this feels far better than if he were actually touching himself, because he gets to have a handful and mouthful of a fiery, filthy woman.
With an obscene pop, he lets go of her breast, leaving the nipple flushed and taut and shiny with saliva. He goes on to kiss the other. Kylo gives her suggestive thoughts, coercing her to accept the pleasure, the dark side, and most of all him. She resists it all with declarations far too dramatic for his tastes, making sweeping judges of his character even as he so tenderly lavishes affection on her.
Kylo leaves her breasts to dip lower, kissing the protruding outlines of her ribs as he braces his hands on either side of her waist. He makes a silent promise that she will never go hungry again, not so long as she is with him. To his slight consternation, this promise is what she finds most enticing thus far. Her thoughts are open to the idea for a long moment as the muscles in her belly clench while he kisses her navel. The jut of one of her hips is visible just above her pants. He moves his mouth to her hipbone and kisses the sharp point. As he does so, thinking that her thoughts and body are reasonably distracted, one of his hands drifts to the spot between her legs. He is intent on cupping her no doubt swollen and throbbing mound through her pants—
Kylo winces at sudden pain in his scalp. His lip curls as he realizes that by leaning down he got close enough to her hand for her to grab him. She knots her fingers more securely in his hair and tugs, hard. He glances up at her through pain-scrunched eyes.
“You’re revolting,” Rey spits.
“Does it upset you how good it feels?” Kylo turns his head back to speak against the side of her hip so his lips brush it, then flicks the tip of his tongue against it. “I know that it feels wonderful, just as you can no doubt tell how much you’re hurting me by—”
She pulls on his hair again. He is caught between a scowl and a wince. Rey has a similar expression on her face, but she does not loosen her grip.
“Get off. Now.”
Her accent makes the command sound regal. The knight in Kylo hastens to obey even as the rebellious, chaotic creature in him bares its teeth. He pulls himself away from her and simultaneously extricates her fingers from his hair with a bruising grip on her tricep. Her fingers spread more out of pain than consent to stop hurting him. He examines the fabric tied around her arms and wonders at the purpose of the filthy rags before determining that he wants them off.
Kylo decides that the rags must be meant for protection from Jakku’s sun as he unwinds half of them by hand and with the same thought uses the Force to telekinetically loosen the others. Within the dark confines of Starkiller, a place Kylo has decided Rey shall stay for a long, long time, she will not need them. He pauses when he gets to where the cuff holds her arm and then lets it drop, leaving her with alien extensions of herself that hang like tattered, dirty flags from her wrists. He slips off the loosened cloth on the opposite arm, baring more of her skin made patchy by irregular exposure to sunlight.
He nuzzles the downy hair on her arms once exposed, kissing along the length of one arm. With each kiss, he projects unto her the heated passion that he feels. Their minds and bodies will it to be true. It is the intent of the Force, surely, that he takes her this way. If she will only accept him—
“I might be more accepting if you let me out of these restraints,” Rey says, turning her head away from him as he kisses up her shoulder and neck.
“Scavengers like to bargain, don’t they?” He says, hovering his mouth next to her ear. “I might consider taking the cuffs off if you give me a kiss.”
Rey shudders. Her mind oozes fear and disgust. Kylo frowns, pulling himself away for a moment to scrutinize her.
She should not be afraid of him. She does not understand. She will. He will make her.
In a decision he comes to regret, Kylo leans down and presses his mouth to hers with a clash of lips and the hard wall of teeth behind them. Almost at once, he gets bitten. Kylo draws back. He rolls his tongue over his lips and around in his mouth but does not detect the metallic sting of blood. Either she just did not get enough purchase to bite hard enough, or she was not intent enough. He wonders whether or not she knows she did not inflict as much damage as she may have based on the knowledge that she experiences the same pain that he feels.
Rey must have thought the sharp pinch from her teeth cutting into his lips for a moment was better than the idea of kissing him. Kylo cannot help the bitterness that rises in his throat. He has done far worse to other prisoners. Surely she must realize he is being nice to her by comparison. Perhaps he should give her some memories of others who have suffered in his presence while they were being interrogated. The image of the bruised, bleeding, screaming Resistance pilot is still fresh in his mind.
Unaware of his musings, or perhaps aware of them and attempting to distract from them, Rey says, “Now take the cuffs off.”
“You didn’t give me a kiss,” Kylo says, shaking his head. “I gave you a kiss. Not the same thing at all.”
She glares. Kylo meets the look with one of his own.
“Fine,” Rey says in a clipped tone that belies the shuddery breath that she takes.
Kylo senses at once that she is only agreeing to as much because she believes she can escape once he uncuffs her. How optimistic.
He leans down again, but pauses half an inch before their lips meet, forcing her to be the one to close the distance. Their lips brush in a much softer iteration of what had transpired before. Her lips are sun-chapped, but her tongue is velvety-soft once he nudges her mouth open.
The bond between their minds tingles with the gentler physicality.
As he pulls away, Kylo waves his hand and the shackles click open. That is to say, he just opens the ones holding her ankles.
It only takes a moment for her to figure out what he did. Rey’s snarl might be terrifying to him in another context; one where she was armed and dangerous, maybe. But now… now he has to resist laughing at her, the very picture of helplessness.
“You—” Rey says through her teeth, wriggling her still-bound arms.
“Should’ve specified which cuffs.”
Rey tries to kick him with her freed legs. She manages to catch him in the thigh, dangerously close to his groin.
Kylo takes a few steps back until he is out of her reach. His erection has been throbbing for quite some time under various layers of clothes. Rey’s face contorts as he takes a moment to frame and stroke the bulge through his clothes with his fingers. Her revulsion only encourages him. It takes some doing, but he rearranges his clothing to bare his engorged erection to her. Between the slits where his surcoat and tunic part, his dick rests to one side, the pale skin flushed dark.
“Look what you’ve done to me,” he shakes his head at her as he runs a fingertip down the swollen veins in the shaft.
Kylo wraps a hand around his dick and strokes himself with his gloved hand, smearing around the precum gathered at the head. The leather of his glove is too harsh and dry even with the lubrication, but he cannot help but enjoy the bit of pain that comes with the sensation. Similarly, he enjoys the sight of Rey’s discomfiture as she looks at him, biting her lower lip. Kylo jerks into his hand at the sight, then lets go.
He approaches once more. Kylo grabs one of her legs as it lashes out again, then the other, holding them against either side of his hips. With them trapped in the crooks of his elbows, it is an easy matter of closing the distance, then, and spreading her legs wide so he can rest his body between them. He does not bother using his lightsaber to remove her pants, instead reaching up with one of his hands and tearing the crotch open. The well-worn fabric gives with satisfying ease, and Kylo is left staring at her exposed pussy.
After a touch of the Force, her legs are left frozen where he had braced them with his elbows. Without preamble, he spreads her lips and slides his middle finger inside of her with an obscenely wet noise. She clamps down on him out of fear, the same reflex her mind had when he invaded her consciousness, but it works so very hard against her. Kylo crooks his finger against her tense inner muscles until she has a muscular spasm. She loosens for him, more out of surprise than anything else, if the flash of confusion in her mind is anything to go by. He pulls his middle finger halfway out, then adds his pointer and ring finger as he shoves it back in.
Rey’s walls lock around Kylo’s fingers with tenseness that does not allow him much movement beyond crude thrusting motions as thumbs at her clit. Kylo senses where she is most tender; he draws out moans when he kisses her belly, teasing the hidden nerve endings sprawled there. He lowers his mouth further to kiss the inside of each thigh, then gives a rough, wet kiss to her clit, sucking on it hard as he curls his fingers upward.
Her abdomen shudders under his lips and tongue and the aftereffects are clear from how her cunt spasms around his fingers. The sudden blankness from her mind and the sweet shuddering from her body indicate her orgasm.
All too easy.
“You understand now, don’t you?” He spreads his fingers once he has pulled them out, showing her the glistening evidence of her arousal stretched between them. “I know you feel it too.”
Rey makes a revolted noise deep in her throat as he puts his fingers back together and slides them into his mouth to suck them clean.
“I…” Rey shudders, but it does not take away from the rage-filled glint in her eyes. “I’m never giving in to you.”
Kylo has to make an effort to restrain himself from biting down on his fingers. He removes them from his mouth with a saliva-slicked pop.
“You already have,” he pronounces, then grabs hold of her legs again and lets his hold on the Force over them go.
Once he gets close enough, Kylo’s hands slide from her thighs to the area between her ass and the interrogation table. He lifts her up, forcing her to expose more of herself to him. He licks his lips as he rubs the head of his dick in the soft tangle of hair between her legs, then the even softer skin of her labia. Her juices and his saliva make him slip easily against her.
“No, R’iia, no—”
Kylo does not recognize the name, but the prayerful desperation that radiates from her mind indicates a deity. He imagines that her voice sounding that desperate saying his name instead and has to stop himself from relinquishing his hold on her to grab his dick again. Instead he makes do with rutting against her.
For her part, Rey thrashes her hips and attempts to wrestle her legs away from him so she can close her legs. Kylo can feel her sinking her untrained powers of the Force into his mind like barbed spines. He lets it come, concentrating on their physical state rather than the chaos of their conjoined minds. Her fighting makes it difficult to line himself up, and in the end he has to use his hand to guide the head of his dick into her.
But once he does, it is complete bliss.
Rey lets out a scream followed by a filthy curse as he fills her up. Kylo can only groan. She feels so hot and tight. The fact that she is tight due to her prolonged fear is not lost on Kylo, but can let that go. Having her cunt hugging his dick makes her momentary discomfort worth it.
Inhaling deeply, Kylo grabs on to either side of the interrogation table, keeping her legs spread and simultaneously anchoring himself in place as he thrusts his hips. With a brush of his thoughts against hers, he lets her know how she looks as he fucks her. A hot red blush has spread from her face to her bared neck and chest. Her ruined clothes shift in time with her breasts.
He can feel the strongest sensations he inflicts upon her, particularly the pain when he gets too rough. Even then, Kylo does not understand the tears that slip from Rey’s eyes in response or the ramshackle shields she puts up in her mind in a last ditch attempt at blocking him out. Her attempts at attack have long since withdrawn. He shoves the barriers aside, exposing her but at the same time also exposing himself to her. He may not be bodily naked as she is, but his mind could not be more vulnerable as he lets her see him.
The continual temptation of the light, his fears, his insecurities, his anger, his family, his former name—everything. He trusts her not to use it against him. But when she does, since she seems to have a long history of being against him in the short time they have been together, he will simply turn the knife in her wounds, too. The loneliness, the ocean, the island, the traitor, his fath—Kylo sneers as he corrects his thoughts—Han Solo. The mere mention of those things turned her into a mess.
For now, though, he can be nice.
As if to contradict him, there is a sudden, snapping pain deep inside of Rey. Kylo experiences the same pain in full force, and he stops moving for a moment to take it in. The dark side lent itself to pain. In spite of his surprise, he funnels it to be a part of his power after only a moment’s hesitation. It occurs to Kylo as he sucks in deep breaths and lets the pain flow into his well of anger that Rey is not channeling it as he does.
Leaning forward, Kylo gives her a small kiss on the forehead. With it, he sends soothing feelings along their bond; warm, affectionate feelings. Rey stares up at him, more tears slipping down her cheeks. Her mind has gone into a state of mute shock. Kylo glances down at his dick as he pulls it partway out and sees a thin film of blood on his shaft.
“Don't cry, don’t worry,” Kylo soothes, kissing her mouth. “You're supposed to bleed the first time.”
Rey tries to shove her shoulder at his neck in an effort to keep him away. Evidently she does not appreciate the implication that he will make love to her again and again and—
She slams her forehead against his chin. It impresses and infuriates him that even now she will not submit.
“This isn’t you,” Rey insists when he draws his face away, when his thrusts lose enough of their tempo for her to form words instead of just noises. “Ben, stop it—”
The last word is drawn out as he angles himself in such a way as to hit her most sensitive spot inside.
“And how would you know?” Kylo asks through his teeth, pounding his dick into her with more fervor.
His snarl grows with the awareness that he contradicts what he recognizes to be true: she now knows him better than anyone else ever has before. Their minds are as close and intimate as their bodies.
Rey does not know much about sex, but her side of the bond insists that this is not intimacy. This is cruelty and pain that he tries to fool himself into thinking is something different. That deception has not worked on either of them.
Deep, deep down, Ben knows she is right. Unfortunately for her, that part of him, the tiny light that would never lay a hand on her, much less do this much, is buried beneath too many dark swaths of Kylo Ren.
Too much monster. Too much Vader.
The thought delights him as much as it disgusts her.
When he comes, Kylo sinks fully into her, hugging the interrogation table, crushing her body under his, and mashing their lips together. Rey’s responding bite is expected at this point and almost enjoyed.
Kylo does not move for some time, keeping his scum trapped deep inside of her. His mind is a warm, muzzy haze. He feels drunk. It numbs him the rest of the way to their shared pain. Despite her struggles, Kylo has never felt more powerful than he does with Rey against him.