Archive of Our Own

Every echo of your footsteps off of the black tile of the Finalizer deepened the crimson in your cheeks. It wouldn’t be a big deal, you’d told your mentor--a simple check-in and drop-off--but your lies did nothing to steady your shaking fingers or quell the rapid beat of your heart. And when you finally stopped in front of Commander Kylo Ren’s quarters, your skin was vibrating.

“Medbay,” you called, impressed with the even tone of your voice. As you drew in another soothing breath, the blast door slid open in front of you, revealing the dark, empty hallway leading to his rooms. Chin quivering, you swallowed and stepped inside.

The moment your feet cleared the threshold, the hatch snapped behind you--it was only out of sheer will that you didn’t scream. Your muscles ground together like stones, so stiff that the movement of your limbs could be confused for a droid’s. It’d only been about 30 seconds since you’d entered, and you were already prepared to bolt back to the hall. Perhaps you could leave the bag and just--

“You’re still here?”

The voice was stark and deep in the dead air, and you flinched, only growing stiffer when the owner turned the corner into the hall. Well--stiff wasn’t the word, really. Moreso paralyzed. Kylo Ren stood, massive and imposing so, so... beautiful. Far more beautiful than you’d anticipated or dreamed--and you’d dreamed a lot.

It was strange. Your daydreams of seeing his face had always involved his praise of you: commending you on a job well done, or perhaps even offering you a promotion. Typical fare that might go along with your respect and veneration for a superior officer. Those dreams had never involved the hair on the back of your neck going stiff, never involved the skipping of your heart.

“I asked you a question, officer.”

You wished he would stop talking. Every word out of his mouth restarted the timer to regaining your sanity. Nibbling your lip, you blew a sigh through your teeth. “Y-yes, sir,” you replied, finally. “I was asked t-to deliver the painkillers. Sir.”

He frowned. “I informed the medbay director I wouldn’t be needing them. Take them away.”

“Oh.” You blinked, a lump in your throat. You’d upset him. “Well, s-sir, I could just leave--”

“Away,” he spat, and crossed the hall, disappearing into another room.

Your pulse shot out of your veins, and you fumbled with the bag on your shoulder. Of course, you couldn’t upset him further by disobeying his orders and simply leaving the bag there, but you also couldn’t return to the medbay after with his medication still in tow during your first week in training. You thought of maybe just dropping it in the garbage disposal, but the chance of being caught--by cameras or otherwise--made your stomach twist. So you tiptoed behind him, breath held in your ribcage, and found him sitting on the edge of his bed, wincing as he shifted.

“P-please, Commander,” you said, “I understand you don’t want them, but I think you should take them.”

“No.” His eyes, blisteringly cold, met your own. “I do not need them. Eliminating pain is detrimental to my training.” He turned his gaze to the floor. “I am not weak.”

Your face fell, something in your chest clenching tight. He was hurting. He wanted to recover. He wanted to do it on his own. And you--you wanted nothing more than to make him happy.

“D-don’t worry, C-commander.” Your face was on fire, your fingers fiddling together. You couldn’t look at him. “You’ll--you’ll get better soon. And you’ll be back to being the Commander we all, um, admire so much.”

A short lull. You heard him shift again, heard his footsteps grow near. Your blood beat in your temple, sweat trickling down your nape.

“What do you mean, soon?” His tone sent a cold chill up your back. “Do I look weak to you?”

You cowered, wincing. “No, no! Not at all, sir, please, that--”

“Do you not respect me?” The toes of his boots breached the edge of your sight. “Is that why you believe you can defy orders?”

“N-no!” Crumbling, you shielded your face with your hands, your palms almost catching flame from its heat. He was so near. The pulse in your ears nearly swallowed the sound of your own voice. “Never, ever. I… um, I... “ Nothing would leave your tongue. It was drier than dust. “Um… stars…”

Kylo Ren stopped, sniffing in disdain. “Look at me, officer.” With all of the reluctance in the universe, you did. He was inscrutable--and he cocked a brow. “What is wrong with you?”

He could see it--the trembling of your fingers, perspiration on your brow. But you imagined the visible warmth in your cheeks was new, a thought you found horrifying. He probably already knew what was wrong with you. Probably already knew how often you dreamed of standing close to him, just like this, of maybe smiling at him--

“Officer. I asked you a question.”

The words came tumbling out before you could stop them. “I’m sorry, sir, I just, I really admire you, and--” No! That hadn’t been what you’d meant to say. You squealed, burying you face in your palms and turning. “Oh, stars, I’ve got to go. I’m so sorry, Commander, forget I said anything--”

“No.” The certainty in his voice froze your joints. Shuffling behind you, rustling--he’d returned to his bed. “Stay.”

You peeled your hands from your face, stuffing the lump in your throat when you faced him. His feet were wide, his elbows resting on his thighs. He was watching you like a raptor. A beautiful raptor. A beautiful raptor that--that made your heart do weird, fluttery things. That was a thing people said, right? Yeah, definitely.

“Sir?”

The edge of his lip quirked, his gaze roaming your figure. Every inch he appraised further stoked the blaze in your belly, brought a strange and foreign feeling in between your thighs. You squirmed, uncomfortable with the sensation.

“Tell me what you like.”

Heat flashed through you. “W-what I like?” Your knees threatened to buckle. “About you?”

“Yes.”

Gods, you wanted to smother yourself and wake up on another ship. You couldn’t imagine a more mortifying situation than the one you were in now. What were you supposed to say? How could you possibly articulate the stream of words that had been winding through your head for months? Or, perhaps, that’s exactly what he wanted.

Staring at your hands, you drew in a deep breath and exhaled through your nose. “Well, sir,” you began, teeth chattering already, “I think you are a very good leader. You, um, make me want to do my best.”

His smirk grew wider. “Come closer,” he said. “What else?”

“Oh.” You dropped your bag and took a step, examining your feet. “You’re, um, really smart. When I hear you on the bridge, you always make good points.” A smile formed on your face, unbidden.

“Hm. Closer.” You stole another step. “What else?”

His proximity was making this increasingly difficult. “Uhm…” Your throat was tight. “You’re so strong and powerful, Commander. I really like that.”

“Do you?” There was a lilt of amusement in his voice. “I ordered you to come closer, officer. Tell me more.”

You whimpered, moving forward. He was arm’s length from you, now. A short inhale hiccuped in your lungs. “Well… you’re… you’re…”

“Closer.”

“Stars,” you whispered.

If you had been lightheaded before, you were ready to pass out, now. Even still, you obeyed, your final steps placing you between his open legs, just inches from his body, your brain spinning with the heady intoxication of his presence. Words were glue in your throat, every syllable caught in the web of anxiety that had woven itself in your larynx. Even focusing on him was a task--rather than meet those eyes, you found it far easier to study your knuckles, the seams in your shoes. You were magma, cooling and petrifying in the ice of his gaze.

“And I think… um…” Even your throat had solidified to rock. “I think that you’re very, very handsome, sir.”

“Really…” His words were syrup, thick with a darkness you couldn’t name.

Then you felt it--a strong, warm hand at your side, a gentle and curious pressure, sliding down, down, over the curve of your hip, catching on the fabric of your trousers, stopping just on the side of your thigh before trailing back up. Something inside of you was tight, hot--you were magma again, spilling out over his feet, wanting to collapse into his lap a boiling red puddle. His touch left a brand in its wake, tensing muscles like strings, searing your skin with a longing that you’d never before known.

“Oh,” you breathed, trembling to the marrow, “Commander…”

A leather finger pressed into your chin, forcing you to meet his stare. “Kiss me.”

The oxygen was sucked from your lungs, the uncomfortable space between your legs growing more and more frustrating. You couldn’t understand what was happening with your body--couldn’t identify the growing urge to grind your thighs together.

Kiss him? Kiss your Commander? The thought had never even crossed your mind--but now that it had, it wouldn’t leave. Is this what respect was? To wonder if it would feel good? If you would like it? You couldn’t even begin to imagine. And you couldn’t do it, either. Your face was paper, embers of embarrassment eating away at your skin. The words wouldn’t leave your lips, stuck to your tongue by a wad of sticky anxiety. Kylo Ren’s eyes drifted over you, blinking slowly.

“Hm.” That same leather digit traced the edge of your jaw, making your chin quiver. “Where are you assigned?”

You swallowed, forcing out your answer. “T-the medbay, sir.”

“And yet…” His finger trailed down your neck, over your racing pulse, drawing a lingering line down your arm until he reached your ribs. Two large hands moved in unison, then, caressing your sides, stealing your breath, threatening to bend your knees. “Medicine, and you’re this naive…”

Air rattled inside of you like stones. “W-well…” His lashes fluttered--soft, dark wings that followed his traveling eyes. “I’m in t-training, sir. I just s-switched from communications…”

“Is that so.” He blinked again, something warm and soft gathering in his irises. His hands stilled, and he squeezed, exhaling as your flesh gave way to the pressure of his grip. You heard the muffled knock of a swallow in his throat, and he locked onto your gaze. “Then let’s start…” Leather fingers drifted to the hem of your top, toying with the bottom button. “Here.”

“Here?” Blush bloomed on your cheeks. “W-what’s here, sir?”

The button slipped free with a gentle nudge of his thumb. “Removing this.”

Your breath hitched. No one had ever seen you without clothing before. “O-oh…” you said. “B-but…”

“Shh.” He tugged at your top, and another button popped open. “Go on. Do the next one.”

The ache between your legs was gaining a pulse, and the next breath that left your lungs rolled out in a trembling whine. Your skin wanted to fly off of your body into the next star system. It was becoming apparent that your admiration for your commander went well beyond the boundaries you’d previously established. The steam in your blood made it impossible to deny. This was something more. Something… like hunger.

Of course, you knew what sex was--knew that it was typically done without clothing, knew that it was some type of intimacy involving genitals. But you’d never thought about it, not even once. You weren’t sure what to expect or what to feel--the most you’d ever done was daydream about holding Kylo Ren’s hand. Never kissing. Never stripping. Never…

Fingers shaking, you reached for the next button, perspiration already attempting to make your task more difficult. You set your jaw and pushed it through, exposing your belly button to Kylo Ren’s hungry gaze.

“Mm.” The corner of his lip quirked. “Keep going.”

“Yes, sir,” came your voice, alien to your ears.

Keeping your eyes locked to your hands, you watched yourself through a dizzied mind while you pulled apart another button, and then another, until you had reached the edge of your bra. There, you paused, unable to make yourself continue. Even your breath had stopped.

“That’s right,” said Kylo Ren. “You’re doing perfectly. Go on...”

A shudder gripped your joints, and you nodded, pressing your thighs closer still as you revealed your bra, button by button, too embarrassed to look for his reaction. Instead, you undid the final fastener, leaving your top open, your torso exposed. Patches of goosebumps swelled to cover your naked flesh--and he must have seen it, because you heard a soft laugh.

“You look so beautiful…” All blood must have rushed your face in that moment, staying there while he reached to your shoulders, sliding your top to the floor. You whimpered. “Shh. That’s good. Let’s see the rest, hm?”

This was, honestly, torture. You wanted to collapse into a mercurial puddle, both eager and terrified to take another step. There was a need inside of you that you were finding increasingly difficult to ignore, but the thought of satisfying it brought too many questions. You imagined peeling off your bra, baring your breasts to his eyes. The thought was horrifying enough to make you want to call it off--but then you imagined him liking it. Liking your breasts. Liking you. And you found your hands reaching behind your back.

You swallowed, pushing open one hook, then another, then another--this was it. He’d see you. Holding your breath, you closed your eyes and let your bra drop to the floor, nipples puckering with excitement and chill. You didn’t want to look. You couldn’t. But the fantasy of Kylo Ren being enamoured with your body was enough to pull you from the hiding place in your mind and open your lids.

His honeyed eyes were latched to your tits, his plush, pink lips parted as he placed his palms on your stomach. Without meaning to, you mewled--a strange noise you hadn’t meant to make. You found yourself wanting his hands on your breasts, squeezing, massaging, acting out all of the desire you saw written on his face.

They were new, these feelings, and you were drowning inside of them.

Smirking, he met your stare. “Gorgeous,” he murmured. “Let me see the rest of you.”

Stars, you might as well have been wax under his heat. Something inside of you clenched, part of this new, throbbing ache dominating your thoughts. Pulling your lips between your teeth, you glanced at the floor, your hands falling under his and fussing with the fasteners of your trousers. Like skinning a fruit, you pried them down your thighs until they gathered at your ankles, bunched on top of your shoes. Kylo Ren’s eyes followed your hands, down your hips and then up again, fixated on the plain undergarments that concealed the last of your dignity. You didn’t have to know what he was imagining to know it involved him touching you there. You shivered. What would that feel like?

Gloved palms skated over your skin, leather tugging at the flimsy fabric of your panties. His thumbs hooked into the hem, easing it down, and he met your stare, asking your permission. You debated--it’d be easier to let him do it, to allow him to just get it over with. After all, your hands were quaking, your palms slippery and hot. But you’d come so far. And you wanted him to want you more--to your own surprise. You shook your head, pushing him away.

Kylo Ren released you, and you steadied yourself, looping your own fingers under your panties. Something clenched again, your thighs stiffer than stone. You were barely breathing, drunk on whatever feeling had decided to hijack your neurological system--could you really do this? Stealing a glimpse of his face, a face focused entirely on you, you decided, hastily, that yes. Yes, you could.

Wincing, you pushed them down, revealing your flushing, swelling sex, and they fell in the pile at your feet. “Oh,” you heard yourself saying, noticing how hypnotized Kylo Ren had become.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Perfect.”

He reached for you, but stopped himself, leaning back on the bed. His eyes scanned your figure, tongue wetting his lips while he admired you. You were about to combust.

“Lie on the bed.” He stood, stepping aside to allow you room, observing you expectantly.

“On t-the bed?” you asked, looking between him and the large, soft mattress. “Now?”

“Would there be a more appropriate time to request for you to lie naked on my bed?”

Flames seared your cheeks. “No, no sir.”

You kicked off your shoes and stepped out of your bottoms, climbing onto his bed with all of the grace of a wounded bantha. The sheets were cool and smooth on your crackling skin, and you spread yourself out on the center, turning your head to him, waiting for your next command.

“Good,” he said. “Close your eyes.”

Holding your breath, you did.

“Now,” he breathed, his voice like smoke. “I want you to take your hands and run them down your sides.”

You bit your lip, silent while you glided your own palms over the soft skin of your stomach, the curve of your hips, down to the middle of your thighs. You felt another clench, and you were now aware it was your sex, its ache for touch so desperate that it throbbed at the prospect of your own fingers.

“Back up, now.”

His voice had almost made you jump. Nodding, you dragged your hands away from your thighs, noting the warmth of your flesh, the heat and gentleness of your touch casting goosebumps down your arms. You squirmed, whimpering as you fought the urge to grab at yourself--an urge you found strange and embarrassing.

“Good...” Kylo Ren had moved, settled somewhere to the side of the bed. “Does it feel good to touch your stomach?”

Breath left you in a shameful gasp. “Yes, yes sir.”

“Move higher, now.”

“Higher?” To your breasts?

“You heard me.”

Not wanting to upset him, you nodded, holding another breath while you skimmed your palms to your breasts, taking handfuls and squeezing, testing, marvelling at how strange your body seemed. You’d touched your breasts before, of course, but only in the clinical settings of the shower or your wardrobe--and you couldn’t remember wanting to moan, couldn’t remember dragging your teeth over your lower lip, couldn’t remember delight sparking from your fingertips as they grazed your nipples.

“Good. Good…”

His praise drew a reluctant moan from your mouth, your gentle squeezing evolving into rough groping, your thighs pinning themselves together out of instinct, out of a desire for pressure, for friction.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he said. “You like it.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “I do.”

“Good.” He paused. “Let me see between your legs.”

Air hiccuped in your chest, and you pressed your thighs tighter, the thought of displaying your most intimate parts to him making you light-headed. Your insides throbbed again, the longing within you bubbling at the thought. Your fingers teased over your nipples, and you whined, the sensation feeding the demand to appease him.

“Go on. Spread your legs. Show me.”

The galaxy spun behind your closed eyes. You gulped, nibbling at your lip as you pried your thighs apart, centimeter by centimeter, your heart slamming your sternum. Your chin trembled, your hands shaking when you spread your legs wider, wider, until cool air brushed at your sex, chilling a strange, sticky fluid that had, horrifically, leaked out onto your skin. What the--

“Oh, stars,” you groaned, covering your flushing face. How could this have happened? What had
you done wrong? You couldn’t believe the betrayal of your body. “I’m so, so sorry, Commander.” You eased your legs back together. He’d definitely seen that terrible mess. He’d never want to touch you, now. “Please, forgive me…”

He was silent for a moment that stretched out long beyond your tolerance. “You’ve never touched yourself there, have you?” His voice was quiet. You must have really screwed up.

“N-no. No, sir. And I’m sorry, I don’t--”

“Enough,” he replied. “You’re getting wet. It’s natural.”

“Oh…” You swallowed, removing your hands from your face. “What… is that?”

He chuckled, and you clenched again. His eyes glittered with something wicked. “It means you want me, little girl.”

Your heart skipped with excitement, blood running hot. “Oh.” It was true.

“Close your eyes and spread your legs again,” he said, and, anxiously, you obeyed. “Good. Now take your fingers and run them over the outside of your cunt.”

A shiver raced through you. You’d never heard that word used like that. It made you ache. Terrified of disappointing him, you caught another breath in your lungs and crept your digits down your belly, each kiss of skin sending arcs of electricity through your nerves. You neared the mound of your sex and stroked it, leading the tips of your fingers up and down the soft, supple flesh. Without even knowing what it truly meant, you were certain that with each second, you were growing wetter, your yearning for him swelling to soreness.

“Very good,” he purred. “Lower, now.”

You dipped lower, petting your outer folds, tiny gasps escaping as pleasure bloomed from between your legs in response. You’d never felt anything like it--and you wanted more, more. Whimpering, you dragged your digits to your inner-thigh and back again, basking in the delicious novelty of what was happening to you.

“How does that feel?”

Anxious, you replied, “It feels good…”

“Yes,” he said, “it does. Now be good and spread yourself. Touch the inside.”

A whine hitched in your throat. In some system, on some planet, this was criminal. Keeping your eyes closed, you pulled your slit open and slid your fingers along the slick, sensitive inner-lips of your sex. With your vision in darkness, you could only focus on your unsteady breath and the enrapturing complexity under your digits--your body was so alert, so responsive, that you were wilting from your mind’s own machinations. You squirmed again, sighing in content.

But Kylo Ren had other plans. “Move your fingers up. Higher, now… higher…”

They followed orders, dragging toward the top of your slit, over your crevices and wetness and growing ache, until--

“Ah!”

You’d grazed something--something small and warm and exquisite and slipping from your grasp like water through a sieve. What was that? Where had it been and why and how and you needed more.

“How does that feel?” He knew. Somehow, he knew.

You swallowed. “Really good, sir.”

“Yes,” he said. His voice was dark. “Do you want to touch it again?”

Nodding, you winced at your own desperation. “Yes, Commander, please…”

“Do it. Play with it for me.”

Though you didn’t want to appear too eager, it was difficult to temper the ravenous curiosity that had begun to engulf your brain. You teased your fingers over the spot again, gasping as waves of pleasure rolled out over your thighs. Another tease, and you found it--a tiny nub, stiff and sensitive, at the top of your slit. You circled your digits around it, testing, toying with it, your muscles tightening with every ripple of bliss. Back and forth, back and forth you stroked it, unable to stop, that warmth back in your clutches, growing closer and closer. You switched your pace, swirling around it, and there was a tug, deep in your belly, pulling you to another plane of pleasure. It was maddening, addicting--your mouth fell into an open pant, shameless moans flooding the air, your hips twitching as your fingers raced toward something you couldn’t define.

And in the background, you heard it: “Fuck,” breathy and low, and following it a rustle of something--fabric, you guessed. Then another noise: fleshy smacks, rhythmic, coming faster and faster, accompanied by a deep, quiet panting. This was Kylo Ren, of course, but doing what, you weren’t sure, all too engrossed in the heat pouring over your nerves. It wasn’t until you caught the desperate, growling moan from his chest that you turned and opened your lids--and something nearly exploded inside of you.

Kylo Ren was seated near the bed, his eyes trained on your sex, his lips parted as his breath quickened, his face beautiful and voracious--but all of that wasn’t enough to make you snap, no. It was his naked hand, wrapped around what you could only identify as his erection (not that you’d seen one before to know), pumping it furiously. You were in awe of it--it was massive, thick and long, its tip red with blood and shiny with fluid.

“Fuck,” he murmured again. “You like this?”

It only spurred you further, awakening a fire within you, and you watched him stroke his length, rubbing yourself in time with his own hand. And he knew it, too, his mouth curling in a smirk before it was swallowed by another one of his groans. You were close to something, so, so close, like a boulder on a knife-edge, waiting for--for what?

“Oh,” you whined, “oh, stars, Commander…”

“Fuck!” He released himself, his erection wagging against his still-clothed stomach. “Stop.” He couldn’t have meant you, right? Not when everything was feeling so, so, so incredibly good. “Stop.”

Whinging, you pulled your hand from between your legs, your skin tingling in protest, your brain screaming. Your chest heaved with anxious breath, your thighs clamped together to provide some relief to the ache between them.

“I want your first to belong to me.” His eyes scanned your body. “Sit up.”

You didn’t want to. You were in flames.

“Sit up, girl.”

You scrambled up, pressing your palms into the mattress while you watched him. You couldn’t take your focus from the leaking head of his member--you wanted to feel it between your hands. Wanted to--maybe--press your lips to it. Kylo Ren fisted it again, teasing himself with long, slow strokes.

“You’ve never seen a cock before.”

“No, sir.” You wondered if they were all like this.

He huffed. “Good. Come here. Sit at the edge of the bed.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you scooted forward until your feet could touch the floor, and he stood, bringing his length only inches from your face. You were hypnotized, memorizing it, all of the tiny, pulsing veins, the slight curve of the shaft, the bead of fluid at the slit, threatening to slip and entice your tongue. Unknowingly, you wet your lips, your heart pounding in your throat.

“Mm.” Kylo Ren wove a hand through your hair, and you shuddered, scalp tingling. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

You nodded with a frown. Had you done something wrong? “Yes, sir. I’ve really never… um, never.”

He craned your head to meet his gaze. “And already so eager.” His free hand gripped his cock. “You want to kiss it?”

Gods, how could he be so forward? “Um. Yes, I do, Commander.”

Smirking, he urged your head toward his length. “Then do it.”

You glanced between his eyes and his member before taking a breath and placing a chaste kiss to the head. It was hot. Smooth. Biting your lip, you kissed it again, and Kylo Ren’s breath hitched, the hand in your hair tightening its grip. Injected with a shot of confidence, you mouthed at the underside of his shaft, grazing your soft lips over the ridges, kissing your way up, up, tasting his skin, until you reached the cloudy droplet at his tip. What would you do with this? Nervously, you sought out his gaze.

He huffed again. “Clean it.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes locked with his, and drew your tongue over the salty bead, humming in your chest.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and tugged at your scalp. “Filthy girl. You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir...”

You licked at him again, relishing the tensing of his body, the smothered groans, and you inched forward on the bed, watching him watch you press sweet, tender kisses to his throbbing cock. They were sloppy, your movements--unskilled--but his full mouth was parted anyway, his hips rocking toward you, asking you for more.

“Take it.” Kylo Ren’s voice was breathy, his grip tore at your hair. “Take it in your mouth.”

Any hesitation you might have had in the past had dissipated, forced out by the haze of desire consuming your brain. You were enamored, completely and totally, with Kylo Ren, and wanted nothing more than to feed your new, greedy appetite.

So you dropped your jaw, and, guided by his hand, wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. His fingers coiled in your hair, his eyes stuck to you as you pushed your tongue against the shaft. Growling, he shook his head, holding you still.

“No,” he said. “Suck it.”

Suck on it? Lowering your eyes in embarrassment, you shifted, and started suckling on the tip. He grunted, drawing in a breath through his teeth; so you took the entire head in your mouth, groaning onto his cock while your jaw adjusted to the size, and sealed your lips around the shaft, sucking and bobbing your head. A moan rumbled in his chest, his hips snapping toward you, and you whimpered, the heat between your legs clamoring again for release.

“Shit,” he groaned, “you like that? Hm? You like sucking my cock?”

You whined, nodding to the best of your ability as you pulled in your lips around your teeth, sucking harder, wondering if you needed to sit on your palms to keep from touching yourself.

“Of course you do…” Another hand clutched your head, and before you could protest, he shoved the rest of his length into your mouth, fucking into the back of your throat. You retched and heaved, certain you were about to vomit, tears stinging your eyes while he thrusted. “Fuck--of course you do…”

Determined to appease him, you swallowed your bile and his cock, gagging and drooling as he plunged into your mouth. His deep, musky scent filled your nostrils, your cheeks burning as more tears spilled over them. Sick squelching noises echoed through his room, nearly drowning the panting groans that left Kylo Ren’s chest--and he glimpsed your eyes, gasping when he ripped himself from your throat. Your jaw was numb and spit-soaked, lungs chasing air.

Without another word, he bent forward, meeting your swollen lips with his own, groaning as he held you in a deep, harsh kiss. You weren’t even given time to close your lids before he pushed you back onto the bed, crawling over you, one of his hands pushing apart your thighs. He was frenzied, his gaze darting over your figure, his breath quick and shallow. His robes covered your calves, his presence suffocating you. All you could do was stare into his face, speechless, bewildered, unsure of what to do next, of what he even wanted. Well, perhaps that wasn’t completely true. You knew, from the twitching of his member and the pulsating of your own core, that you were about to have sex, that you wanted to have sex. You just didn’t know what that entailed.

Kylo Ren reached down, jerking his cock while he spoke. “Do you remember how good it felt to play with yourself?” he asked, and you nodded. He lowered his lips to your ear, purring, “This will be even better.”

You mewled, and he prodded your folds with the slick head of his length, swirling it around your swollen nub before parting your slit. It slid to the center of your desire, where your heartbeat throbbed, where you were wet and waiting and wanting. He pinned you further into the mattress and rolled his hips into you, the tip of his cock pushing you open like a sword.

“Ah!” you cried, and squirmed away from the edge of the pain. But he pulled you closer, hushing you, his mouth fluttering along your skin.

“Shh,” he cooed, “that’s right.” Another thrust, and he worked another inch into you, the thickness of his length pulsing against your entrance. “That’s right… fuck, you’re so tight…”

“C-commander…” Your entire body quaked. “It hurts…”

His lips were a salve for your fear, pressing soft kisses to your jaw, down your neck, his long nose nuzzling into your shoulder as he rocked deeper inside of you. “Relax,” he murmured. “You’re doing so well… you feel incredible…” You clenched around him at that, and he gasped, snuffing a growl in his chest. “It’s taking all I have to control myself, little girl.”

You shivered, now a verifiable mess underneath him. Despite the pain, the drag of his cock against your walls was a new, extraordinary sensation--and so was the feeling of being stretched, of being pried open and filled to bursting. Your nervous system had been replaced with network of firecrackers, sparkling pleasure and pain with every centimeter.

“I knew you’d have a tight little cunt…” His voice was laden with lust. “But I didn’t think it would feel this good…” He bucked his hips, fully seating himself inside of your core, and pulled back, wincing. “Fuck.”

His injuries. You’d almost forgotten. “Oh, no, Commander!” you said, grasping at his shoulders. “Are you--are you okay, sir? Please don’t hurt yourself--”

Kylo Ren glared at you. “Quiet,” he said. “I am not weak.”

The corner of his lip twitched while his eyes raked across your form. Silent, he leaned back over you, tugging you against him and pulling out of your entrance before sinking back in with a growl. You moaned, head falling to the side when he plunged into you again, sucking in a breath through his teeth. The pain was beginning to recede, making way for a warm bliss that tightened your walls around him.

“Yes,” he said, “yes…” Another thrust, his pace picking up speed. “Tell me again what you like about me.”

You chewed your lip, embarrassed, but the motion of his hips on yours inspired words anyway. “You’re so smart, sir… you’re--oh--so strong…”

He grunted, his teeth grazing your ear. “More.”

“Stars…” You groaned, curling your arms around him, your fingers hooking into the fabric of his robes. “You’re so powerful… I’d do anything you wanted.”

“Anything?” Kylo Ren growled, sucking hard on your neck, so hard that you squealed from the pain. “Tell me--fuck--tell me--”

A deep thrust, and he collided with a wall inside of you, sending shockwaves of pain echoing through you. “Gods!” you sobbed, a sound quickly silenced by his mouth.

“So good,” he said, and pulled away with a smack, “so warm and wet...”

You whimpered as he pumped into you, faster, harder now, splitting you wider than you thought was possible--and before you could speak, you felt his hand fall to your nub, flicking and teasing it. Your walls spasmed, clamping down on his cock, words failing to find your lips. All that could escape were cries of complete, utter ecstasy.

“Does that feel good?” he snarled. “Hm?”

“Yes, Commander!” you said. “Yes!”

“Then tell me more.”

His hips didn’t stop, his cock pounding you now with a force that jolted you underneath him, making you babble, sentences spilling from you, free from inhibition. “You’re so beautiful, sir, you’re--ah!--you’re perfect--” Your own pleasure cut you off, words morphing into garbled pleas for more, more, more, so close, so close to--close to--

“Fuck,” he groaned into your ear. “You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? That’s it…” His fingers sped their pace, and you choked on bliss, sobbing as you were pitched over the peak. “Cum for me, little girl.”

The next moments were fuzzy in your memory--all you could recall was white light eclipsing your vision, bursting forth through your skin like spears. Every nerve, every cell inside of you sang, your muscles twitching, your walls milking his cock as it slammed into you. From across the galaxy, you heard Kylo Ren moan, felt his muscles harden, his hips stutter--and when you returned from the stars, you realized you both had collapsed in a heaving pile of breath and sweat, your fingers still tingling.

He eased himself from you, his member slipping from inside of you, pushing away the dark tendrils of hair stuck to his forehead.

“That was…” you said, nearly breathless. “Commander, I…”

His stare fell to between your legs, and you blushed, averting your eyes. Huffing in amusement, he reached to your slit, scooping the fluid that leaked there before raising it to your lips. It was white and viscous--his seed.

“Taste it.”

You glanced between his fingers and his face, craning your neck to take them into your mouth. A thick, salty tang coated your tongue, and you groaned, sucking them clean, fixing your gaze to his as you swallowed. His lips parted, a devious smirk twisting them.

“Already hungry for my cum,” he said. “Good girl.” His digits combed through your hair as he pulled you forward. “How did it taste?”

You were weightless in his grip. “It tasted good, Commander.”

He leaned into you, his free hand skating down your sensitive, naked skin. “Kiss me.”

Lips trembling, you threaded your hands into his hair. And you did.