Chapter Text
It had been five months since the Battle of Crait. Five torturously long months of Rey trying, and mostly failing, to close off the Force-bond between her and Kylo Ren.
Ben Solo.
There was something different this time though, about how the connection decided to manifest itself into her day. Instead of interrupting her while she was training, or meditating, or just eating her kriffing dinner, it chose to catch her off guard in a completely new way. Because for the first time ever the bond opened up while Rey was asleep.
While they were both asleep.
She had wondered, feared, hoped, that it would happen eventually. That fate would intervene, forcing them to confront each other in the most intimate of settings, skin touching skin, but not in a violent way—or well, not an entirely violent way.
Their other encounters via the bond had left her rattled, white-hot with anger as she berated him for refusing to save the Resistance fleet—her friends—after Snoke’s death. For continuing his quest to destroy the Rebellion and impose his rule over the galaxy. For choosing power and the Dark Side.
For not choosing the path to her.
In contrast, he was usually so calm during their involuntary convergences, waiting for her temper to burn out like a dying star. Only ever striking his lightsaber against hers in defense when she got frustrated at his seemingly cool composure, at how unaffected he could appear.
Upon stirring, Rey immediately felt his presence and closed her mind to his, her instinctive reaction now whenever the bond would activate. She’d felt the connection growing with each encounter, as though the universe was intentionally pushing them back together.
They were still unable to use their powers offensively or to purposefully pry into each other’s minds, but the Force seemed to be doing that for them anyway. Each time she could sense his emotions more potently, could perceive his thoughts more clearly.
And the telepathic conduit flowed both ways, in equal measure.
When she roused fully, she saw that they were both lying on their sides facing the other, but not close enough to touch.
Yet.
He must’ve come to just before she did because he was staring openly at her, eyes full of wonderment and lust as they swept up and down, drinking in her mostly uncovered form.
Even in her dimly lit private quarters, deep within the massive cave that housed the Resistance base, the heat and humidity of Ajan Kloss was unrelenting, causing her to often sleep in only her underthings. At some point she had thrown off her thin blanket as well, leaving her almost entirely exposed to him.
Her chest tightened and her blood rushed, coloring her skin pink and pounding in her ears, but she also took her time, letting her eyes wander leisurely over the broad surface of his powerful body, clad only in his boxer briefs.
There was so much of him to look at, but something in particular caught her attention. Without thinking, her hand reached out to touch the scar on his chest, the one that she had put there, forever marking him.
As mine, her thoughts supplied, even as she tried to deny it.
He inhaled sharply at the contact, as though her fingers had seared him the same way her lightsaber had. Rey hastily pulled away, feeling rejected and ridiculous, but his hand was already there, bringing hers back to flatten against his chest, causing her to stare at him wide-eyed with shock.
“Tell me where you are.”
His low voice was an obvious attempt to sound authoritative, but a thread of desperation was laced into his command. When she didn’t answer he let go of her wrist to prop himself up on his forearm.
He gazed down at her intently, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She absolutely did not trust herself with words right now, didn’t trust her voice to not betray her into revealing just how much he had broken her heart in the throne room of the Supremacy that day.
How much it still breaks for him.
Defiant to the end, she set her jaw and turned to lie directly on her back so that she could stare him down in return, the heat in their hazel eyes a matching inferno.
How fitting, she thought, that their color, shades of honey brown or greenish grey, seemed to shift depending on his location or lighting, or perhaps even his mood.
Maybe it was just the soft glow from his own quarters, on whatever Star Destroyer he was currently residing, but right now they were a storm of murky grey, broken only by streaks of gold as he peered down at her, his breaths near enough to intermingle with her own.
She wondered if he would kiss her. She wondered if she wanted him to.
Yes.
And no.
With his tempting lips so close to her own now, she couldn’t help the glances she sent down to them, but then immediately regretted how easily she just gave herself away.
“Tell me where you are.”
His words were the same, but this time it was an urgent whisper, completely giving up the pretense now that he wasn’t outright pleading with her.
“You know I won’t do that,” she finally answered, her voice slightly hoarse from underuse in the dead of night.
Changing tactics, he responded to her body language instead of her words.
“And what will you do?”
His eyes flickered suggestively down to her lips and then to her breasts, but fast enough that she might have missed it if she hadn’t been studying his face as though she might never see him again.
Because what if she did never see him again?
It was a question, a possibility, that she couldn’t bring herself to examine further for fear of what feelings it might force her to come to terms with.
“Ben.”
His answering touch was light, tentative, as the pads of his fingers ghosted over her bare abdomen, causing her muscles to contract and her lips to open in a quiet gasp.
But she didn’t stop him.
And so his touch became less tentative, exploring the soft, but dewy skin of her stomach, hips, and waist. Feather-light caresses flirted with the edges of her underwear and breast band. All the while he was intently watching her reactions.
Reactions that she desperately willed herself not to have.
Her body had a will of its own though. Heavy breaths filled her chest, goosebumps shot out across her skin, and if nothing else, her face was a dead giveaway now, the desperate longing that laid deep within now brought to surface in her widening pupils.
“Do you want this?” he implored, not hiding the disbelief nor the eagerness in his voice.
She swallowed thickly, then took a deep breath, fortifying herself against the scorching heat of his brazen desire, while not considering what her answer would be, but rather how she would give it.
Because, stars, did she want this, more than she’d ever allow herself to admit to anyone.
Which was why she decided to send her own desire for him across the bond, creating the first weakness in her mental blockade—because she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.
His eyes flashed as though electrified, and his large hand curled possessively into her waist, all but confirming that his side of their cosmic link had been kept open, or at least more so than hers.
It was an unintended consequence of her reckless action, the realization of what it might mean. That he was still waiting for her, was still hoping.
We can rule together…
Join me.
Please.
A stab of panic tore through her gut, and so she made another rash decision.
“But don’t be nice to me.”
“Why not?” his brows furrowed. “Afraid you’ll see something in me that you don’t want to?”
She said nothing, other than to maintain his challenging gaze. It was soft, yet piercing, almost undoing her entirely in how he could see right through her no matter the state of their Force connection.
Leaning in closer, he splayed his hand firmly over one side of her ribcage while pressing his weight and his warmth into her—as well as his growing arousal. Her lips parted in surprise again, drawing his fiery attention to them.
Time stood still while she watched him look longingly down at her mouth, but a low chuckle, instead of a kiss caressed her skin.
“Afraid that if I make love to you, you won't be so ashamed of the things that you feel for me? Of what it would mean?”
Yes.
“No,” she jerked her head in defiance, holding her breath and waiting for what felt like a lifetime for him to reply to her obvious lie, his jaw working while he contemplated his palpable internal conflict over how to respond to her.
“This isn’t your firs—”
“No,” she answered harshly, looking away to feign annoyance at the presumption in his question, when really she was just loath to admit it to him. That after the Supremacy, and then Crait, she was so hurt, so angry at him, that she had slept with—
Turning her head back to regard the man before her now, the one she had really wanted, she saw that he was still just looking at her, a slight frown marring his features, like he couldn’t decide which bluff to call her on.
Unsure of what he might do or say next, she put forth her second requirement—if they were really going to do this—but her voice was back to its quiet tone, “Just don’t come inside me.”
He smirked out an amused laugh, and then moved his hand to palm at her breast, pulling the cloth band down to thumb at the hardened little peak.
“Don’t worry, I won’t come in your cunt.”
She whimpered at the sudden stimulation, and at what he was implying, that he wanted to mark her as well, but in an entirely different way. And Rey found herself wanting whatever he was going to give her—to do to her. She gave him a little nod and murmured, “Wherever else you want.”
A wolfish smile tugged at the corner of his sinful lips, right before he lowered his head and sucked her waiting nipple into his incredible mouth.
“Oh—!” she squealed, her hands making their way into that luscious hair of his that she’d dreamt of touching for so long.
He continued his attention at her breasts, kissing and sucking and teasing, all while the rest of his body moved to cover hers.
The fervor of his breath and his lips felt phenomenal as he progressed up her chest to her neck and then the underside of her jawline. His broad, strong shoulders formed a pale sky between her and the rest of the galaxy.
And it was absolutely perfect.
Too perfect.
Her eyes popped open and her heart constricted in fear. She didn’t want—didn’t think she could handle having even a drop of his tenderness, just to go back to the way things were, to go back to not having him at all. She’d rather have every ounce of his rage.
Bruises would heal much faster than a shattered heart.
“Wait.”
He pulled back immediately, panting and looking down at her, waiting, just like she had told him to.
“I said don’t be nice to me,” she whispered breathily, regretting it as soon as the damned words left her tongue.
Dread—and a shameless excitement—blazed a path through her veins as a cold darkness swept over his face like a mask, turning his voice to stone.
“Then get up, and get on your knees.”
*****
Without a word, Rey moved to obey his stern command, causing a lewd thrill to race down Kylo’s spine as he stood up on the side of his bed to loom over her. Seeing her, the scavenger, practically naked and kneeling before him—so willing, so obedient—was just as erotic and breathtaking as it was agonizing and infuriating.
Because it was all a lie.
Her submission wasn’t a gift, it was just a part she was playing so that she didn’t have to face her true fears—that he wasn’t Dark, and she wasn’t Light, but that they were both variants of Gray.
It was also an unintentional reminder of the way he had looked down at her in that little escape pod. When she had literally shipped herself to him.
When it hadn’t all been a lie.
And then, of course, when she had stared up at him and begged for her life, begged for him to choose her—and he did.
And this is what that choice had given him. A fleeting encounter that may or may not ever happen again, may or may not even mean anything.
So yes, he was going to give her exactly what she had asked of him.
But Kylo wasn’t so caught up in his whirlwind of emotions to not notice the amazing curve of her ass or the soft bounce of her perfect little tits while she moved from her back to her knees.
Kriff, he wanted to taste them again, run his tongue over the entirety of her once forbidden body. There was still a chance he’d get to, their Force connections were lasting longer and longer each time.
Or maybe, hopefully, next time.
Right now though, the pounding in his chest was threatening to crack him wide open, but somehow he managed to maintain a cool visage of indifference as she blinked up at him.
He raised an expectant brow down at her—and then to his obvious erection.
“Well?”
Sitting back onto her heels, Rey took in a steadying breath, keeping her eyes locked onto his while she slid her hands up his thighs. Slowly, she curled her fingers into the waistband of his briefs to pull them down.
Surprise, and mild trepidation, was evident on her face at seeing him, at seeing the size of him, and Kylo’s chest puffed up with a small victory, knowing that he was at least bigger than whatever prick she had given herself to before.
Her little hand couldn’t even fit around it as she brought the shaft to her mouth, licked a slow stripe up the underside and then swirled her tongue around the tip, closing her eyes and humming her enjoyment as she tasted his precum.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
His fists unclenched immediately to tangle into her hair, not caring in the slightest that he was bringing ruin to those three little buns that he loved and hated so much. A small but satisfied grin crossed her lips right before she took him into her mouth and started sucking.
And Force, it felt amazing, fucking incredible and surreal all at the same time. He still couldn't believe this was actually happening, that she was touching him, pleasuring him.
The warm bliss had his eyelids heavy and his head falling back in a low groan, but then he felt an unexpected flicker of pride mixed with lust and even a little amusement shoot through a tiny crack in the armor she always put up to keep him out of her head.
Moreover, the way she was looking up at him, watching him fall apart while she bobbed up and down on his length, confirmed it, telling Kylo that he had already fucked up. He was supposed to be the one in charge here. How easily he had let his control slip through the feel of her lips on him.
His fingers coiled tightly into her hair and he thrust into her experimentally. “You like that?” he rasped, “Like what that slutty little mouth does to me?”
Her eyes widened a fraction, before she let out a stifled moan, one hand cupping his balls as the other worked the base of him, where she hadn’t been able—or hadn’t tried to take him further.
And suddenly, Kylo was struck with an idea far too tempting to pass up.
“Put your hands behind your back, and keep your mouth on my cock—where it belongs.”
She complied, one hand taking hold of the opposite wrist behind her while her lips stayed where he wanted them, his hands having stopped her from pulling all the way off of him while she readjusted.
“I’m going to fuck that little mouth of yours, and you’re going to open up your side of the bond, just enough so that I can sense if—so at any time you can tell me to stop,” he paused, still tentative even as he tried to maintain his dominant veneer. “If that’s what you want.”
It was a wicked, brilliant plan. Having her gag on his cock was the first thing to cross his mind when she told him not to be nice to her.
But this?
Persuading her, however dubiously, to lower her defenses to him, even just a little bit, was supremely satisfying.
Though, also somewhat nerve-wracking too, as neither of them were even remotely ready to allow the other full access to their consciousness. This meant that Kylo would have to carefully rescind some of his own already intentionally feeble blockade in order for him to both feel her emotions and allow her to feel his—what he chose to let her feel anyway.
Easing some of her wariness and animosity towards him was a goal he’d been working towards for months, but it had proven futile no matter how well he kept his cool whenever the Force elicited to bring them together across space and time. This could be the first real step in convincing her to stop shutting herself off from him.
The first step in making sure he didn’t lose her forever.
He was going to push her though, her boundaries and her temper. See how much she would let him provoke her until she had to open herself up to him—or perhaps, she would get so lost in the moment that she would let her defenses slip naturally.
It was also practical, dammit, and really rather considerate, he rationalized with himself. He had no intention of being overly careful with her, per her very clear demand, but he didn’t want to actually hurt her. And he didn't want to give her cause to worry that he ever would.
At least, not again.
She blinked a few times, then after several beats that felt like an eternity, nodded in agreement.
So predictable.
“No, send me that thought.”
She glared up at him, face still half-stuffed with his cock—and it was the most beautiful and obscene thing he had ever witnessed.
Fine.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he smirked.
A spark of her irritation pulsed through just as he undid the ties in her hair, loosening the three knots entirely so that now he could have a fistful of her chestnut strands in each hand.
And then he thrust into her, grunting as his cock hit the back of her throat, but only enough to strangle the whimper it evoked from her. He worked his way deeper into her each time, letting her learn how to relax around him.
Finally, he pushed in until her nose was buried in the patch of black hair at his base. Then he held her there, just for a moment, savoring the exquisite feel of her throat swallowing around him.
“Fuck!”
A tiny ripple of nervous, excited desire made its way to his mind as he pulled her head back, stopping right before her lips met the tip, and right before he let go of all his restraint. He was already so close, this wasn’t going to last long anyway.
He bucked into her fast and rough. Over and over again, until she was crying and drooling and gagging.
But she didn’t stop him, not via their now marginally open connection, and not even with her hands after they left their nonexistent bonds to hold tightly onto the back of his thighs. Spurred on by her silent assent, his hands and his hips gave her no reprieve, and she moaned all the louder for it.
“Fuck—such a good little slut, surrendering to me, letting me—use that feral little mouth to—”
He grunted loudly as he pulled out, one hand still in her hair, the other tugging his release until his cum was shooting out, sputtering in time with his deep moans, painting her naked chest with his spend.
Just like he had promised her.