Ooohhhh I like this.
The prisoner wasn’t cooperating, but that didn’t really surprise anyone.
“I’ll only speak to Rey.”
He’d said it a dozen times today alone, and it seemed like he meant it. It was understandable that General Organa didn’t want him to be alone with Rey after what he’d tried to pull in the past, but people were getting anxious.
So they escorted Rey in.
Kylo Ren had fallen far since she’d seen him last. His hair reached past his shoulders and his mask was long gone. The scar across his face was accompanied by another one through his top lip and his black robes were little more than rags.
He’d turned himself in to them, and no wonder. It seemed there was nothing left for the First Order to give him.
“Here’s Rey,” one of the officers said. “Now talk.”
Kylo Ren laughed. It was an awful sound.
“I’ll talk to Rey alone.” He motioned to the corner of the room. “No cameras, either.”
The officers looked affronted at this, their hands going to their weapons, but Rey held up a decisive hand. “Go. And cut the feed.” Her head cocked as she looked down at the fallen knight before her. “He’s not going to hurt me.”
The officers exchanged glances and murmured their reluctant agreements. The powering down of the camera was loud in the room after they left, Kylo continuing to sit on the low metal bench and look up at Rey.
When he finally lifted a hand, it was to crush the camera with his hold on the Force, the manacles at his wrists seeming to do nothing to dampen his power.
“How long ago did you disengage the cuffs?” Rey asked, the slightest smile on her lips.
“Three days,” he answered, and Rey had to admit that she was impressed. His hair-trigger temper didn’t usually allow for such displays of discipline. She should be frightened that he had his full facilities about him and that he could crush her as easily as he had crushed the monitor. But she wasn’t. Nothing about him in this moment made her feel afraid.
He had a funny look on his face, like he were gazing at something truly special. A shrine to the great Orders of the past, perhaps, or a long worshiped hero. His mouth was slightly agape and his eyes shown in admiration. It was a bit uncomfortable. And a bit exhilarating.
“Well, I’m here. What did you want to talk about?”
A blurred flash of images flickered in front of her eyes. Blood on the snow, and a searing pain across her–across Kylo’s–face. Rey standing with a lit saber in her hand, her teeth bared and her breaths coming in ragged pants.
The words Beautiful. Powerful. Stunning. tickled over her scalp and she swatted her hand to try to get the sensation to stop.
Rey snorted. “You fancy me. You turned yourself into the Resistance because you fancy me.”
He didn’t say anything, only continued to look up at her.
“Say something,” she hissed, and his spell seemed to break.
“I’ll tell you everything.” His words were rushed, not at all his usual careful cadence. “Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you. Only you.”
She tipped her chin up. She’d grown up on Jakku; Rey knew what the first half of a bargain sounded like.
“In exchange for what?”
A noise rippled out of him, like a groan caught in the base of his throat.
Rey laughed. “You’re sick. Pathetic.” The words were razor sharp but Kylo…he seemed to like them. “To think you could ask me to get on my knees for you– We don’t need you that much, you know?”
She turned to leave and he spoke, his plea sounding like a blaster shot in the small cell. “Wait!”
She did, but she didn’t turn around.
“That’s not what I want. Not exactly.”
She whirled on him, marched over and laid her hand pointedly on his crotch. He was hard. “Don’t you?”
But he squirmed from beneath her touch, his voice breaking on a sob. His chains kept him in place however and he wasn’t able to move far from her. She removed her hand nonetheless, her eyes narrowing in confusion.
He shook his head, and words like Worship. and Pleasure. and Venerate. and Extol. seemed to shake from him with the motion.
Rey watched him, not completely understanding, and not wanting to understand. She reached a trembling hand to her hair, to the single, messy knot she kept it in now, and slowly took it down. It fell heavily to her shoulders, as long as Kylo’s, and he fell to his knees before her as it did.
It was an unnerving sight. She stepped toward him, slowly, tentatively, and she could see his white tipped fingers digging into his own thighs. He sat back on his heels the closer she got to him, becoming smaller in front of her. She reached out a hand, touched it lightly to his cheek. He leaned into it with a broken groan, his full lips trailing wetly from her palm to her wrist.
She reached further, fingers raking gently through his hair until they reached the base of his skull. Then, slowly, kindly, she gathered him to her. He needed no coaxing and settled his face heavily at the joining of her thighs. A sound like relief flowed from him and he exhaled hot breaths on her clothed skin. It took her a moment to realize that he was working his mouth and tongue on her, even through her leggings and underwear. She shook, sure that if she gave him the chance, he’d try to bring her off without even asking to access her skin.
“You–you can pull down–”
He did, with a rattle of chains and cold, callused fingers. He seemed desperate to get the now damp fabric out of the way, dragging her pants down her legs in one impatient yank.
She had to bite her knuckles to stop the moan that tore through her when he met her, skin for skin, wet for wet. His hands gripped her thighs and his groaned into her, hot and vibrating.
He was…oh, Maker he was sloppy. Focused and determined and messy. His noises were obscene and his thoughts were as loud as canon fire.
Wet. Slick. Soft. Tart. Sweet. Sharp. Hot. Everything. Everything. Everything.
When her knees began to shake, he guided her gently to the bench, his mouth never breaking contact. He was delving deeply, wetly, lewdly. He was moaning louder than she was.
He seemed to sob when she came, her thighs clenching on his face and her still cupping hand tugging at his hair.
She had to kick him off after. He was still going, still lapping at her and slipping his tongue inside of her. He backed off, kissing the inside of her shin with warm, slick lips. He massaged her calves, one in each wide hand, and his lips continued to trail over her skin. Her still-booted feet rested on his chest and the upper half of her body was hanging off the bench at a ridiculous angle.
“Please. Let me–again.” Rey was panting, but she didn’t sound as breathless as Kylo. “I want to again. Please let me.”
“Give me–give me a second to breathe, Kylo!”
He helped to lay her on the bench fully at that, brushing her hair from her face and placing the scratchy blanket afforded him under her naked bottom half. He pulled her leggings and boots from her and kneaded at her feet with strong, steady hands.
She kicked at him again.
“Knock it off. I’ll let you blow me again. Don’t suck up.”
He uttered something like Yes, Miss. and Rey threw her arm over her face with a groan. This was kriffing embarrassing.
“Will you tell me everything now?” Rey asked from beneath her arm.
He kissed her inner thigh, fingers ghosting over her hipbone and pubic hair. “Not yet. Please, just a little more–”
Rey sighed and spread her legs for him. She flapped her other hand in dismissal.
“Oh, go on then. But just once more.”
He didn’t answer, only buried his face in the slick he’d already created.
Rey peeked out from under her arm at the ruined camera in the corner, just to make sure, before she licked her lips and relaxed into the feel of him.
Just once more.