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Rey sat comfortably in her private room at the new Resistance base, her legs tucked up underneath her in an armchair while she twisted two wires together. One of the blaster doors had been malfunctioning and, after checking all of the generators, she suspected a more localized electrical issue. She'd know soon enough.
When she felt the Force bond rumble back to life, she sighed. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with him. They were all still nursing their wounds from Crait. Rey stayed focused on the wires, keeping the twists even and flat so it could slide easily between the door frame and the locking mechanism when she was done.
He didn't speak.
Finally, Rey looked up to see him sitting. His posture was rigid and he was staring straight ahead, black cloak draped over his shoulders. His legs were spread wide, feet flat on the floor.
“One of us has to say something,” Rey told him, exasperated. He gave her a quick glance before returning to a blank stare like he couldn't see her. She'd prepared herself for about a dozen different interactions. This hadn't been one of them. After everything that had happened, he apparently had nothing to say. Not even a threat.
“Hey!” Rey snapped her fingers. He ignored her.
Finally, it hit her.
He wasn't alone. And only he could see her. Everything fell into place.
“Are you sitting on your new throne?”
Rey could see the muscles of his jaw clench and she almost had to stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. She tried to picture what he must look like in the throne room, elevated and alone while people approached him. She slowly put down the wires and got up out of her chair.
“Supreme Leader Kylo Ren,” she said. Saying that name felt wrong in her mouth, even as a taunt. It made something serious swirl around in the pit of her stomach.
His jaw clenched harder and he leaned forward to prop an elbow on his knee like he was looking down at somebody.
“Take two battalions,” he told them.
The strangeness of watching him make plans to, in all likelihood, kill Resistance fighters struck her. His expression was cold and unreadable. In spite of their connection, what he was doing was very real.
Rey shivered. Most of her wanted to reach for her lightsaber. But a small, secret part wanted to curl up in his lap. She moved closer to him.
He drummed his fingers impatiently against the unseen armrest.
“That's enough, General,” he said. He flicked his hand and gave a small nod to what she assumed were his guards.
There was a long pause.
Finally, he looked directly at her and it sent a jolt through her body.
“Don't call me that,” he said steadily. “Not you.”
“Isn't that your name now?” Rey felt like she was seeing him with new eyes. Maybe he'd always been like this and she had only imagined that he was Ben. It was possible she'd been completely wrong, driven by the naïve hope of a lonely woman.
Or maybe, horrifically, she'd known all along and Luke had been right. She hadn't even tried to stop herself. That maybe, deep down, she wanted that.
“Or do you prefer Jedi Killer?” she asked. “I've heard that one, too.”
His eyes darkened. She walked the rest of the way up to him and dropped to her knees. The wrongness was pulling at her.
“Rey—”
“I'm right here.”
She could see him swallow hard.
When he didn't move, she had an overwhelming, slinking urge.
Leaning down, she braced her hands on the floor in front of him. Rey pressed her lips to the smooth black leather of his boot. A gust of an exhale from him and she was dragging her tongue along the toe. Her body hummed with an intoxicating shame.
Over the clean taste of the leather was a faint metallic tang that she lapped up. A ripple of muddled emotions rolled off of him but the one that lingered the longest was a triumphant, consuming lust.
With long, slow licks, she moved up the shaft of his boot, following the seams and straps. She could feel the ridges gliding under the flat of her tongue. She stopped at the top, almost at his knee.
Rey looked up at him, his lips parted as he watched her. The more she told herself that it was wrong, the deeper she fell.
He carefully brought the sole of his damp boot to her shoulder and pressed, easing her back down to start on the other side. As she shifted, she could feel slick heat building between her legs.
What if somebody saw them? A hero of the Resistance, writhing and wet at the feet of the Supreme Leader of the First Order. She imagined the shock, the disgust, the betrayal. It only fed her. She knew it deserved all of those. A recklessness was building in her, something powerful and pitch black.
Rey kissed his boot, rolling her tongue and lips across it like it was his skin, like he could feel her through it. She moaned against the material, raised her shoulder so she could push into the foot he had kept there, holding her down. She could hear him unclasping his belt, the sound of fabric on fabric as he unfastened and pushed aside. His legs shifted as he moved. Rey scraped her teeth over the top of his boot.
Suddenly, the pressure on her shoulder was gone. An indescribable hunger engulfed her. She dug her fingers into his knees as she pulled herself up, desperate to get to him again. His cock was out and she didn't hesitate to drive him deep into the back of her throat. He choked out a gasp, shakingly clenching his fists on the wide arms of the throne as her mouth worked around him. Something predatory in her heard the weakness of it and she was flooded. She fisted her hands in his cloak and pulled him tight against her so he couldn't move away. She kept him there with small movements until she coughed thickly around his cock, ignoring the tears that came to her eyes with the gagging. Rey pulled off to take a panting breath and wipe the spit from her chin.
“Look at me,” he told her. His voice was hoarse.
She did. She knew he was taking in her wet lips and glistening eyes, her flushed cheeks and loosening hair. She knew he could probably feel the hurricane inside of her, the devouring abyss of want that was coursing through her as she raked her eyes over him.
“You know what it is, don't you?” he said.
It wasn't really a question because they both knew that she did. It was the darkness and for the first time, she was letting it truly take her. She didn't want it to stop.
“Touch me,” she told him.
She dropped her head back down, taking him in again with her tongue and mouth. When she ran the head of his cock along the inside of her cheek, he grabbed a handful of her hair close to the scalp. He steered her head, angling to slide hard and slow against her tongue.
Rey dragged her short nails across the skin at his hips, leaving red lines in her wake. He hissed and she sped up, sucking and swallowing rhythmically, feeling her throat contract around him. His hands dropped from her hair and ran over her arms and shoulders, lingered on the back of her neck. It wasn't enough touch but she didn't think anything would be. Rey took in a long breath through her nose, inhaling the smell of his skin and clothes. She wanted to climb into him, push until they were in the exact same place. She wanted him to offer her everything so she could say yes this time. She wanted to hurt him, to feel her lightsaber cutting into him again. She wanted to see his blood up close. She wanted to kill him and take everything he had, sit on the throne he was on. The images shocked her, even in the midst of lightless craving.
“I know,” he told her. “It's okay. Keep going.”
His breathing was coming faster, catching more often. She buried him in deep and fast. He rested his hand gently on her throat while she gagged on him. She was a bottomless ocean and she wanted to drag him down.
He groaned and she could feel him coming, pulsing hard in her mouth and filling the back of her throat, each wave moving through his body and into hers. She knew that he belonged to her and she took him with insatiable gulps until his hands fell limply from her. She slipped him out of her mouth and rocked back onto her heels.
He was staring at her lips until he leaned down and pulled her into a rough, quick kiss.
When they broke apart, Rey could already feel the ache of separation, like they were an alive thing that was being ripped open.
“Don't stay in it too long, Rey,” he warned her. “It never stops.”
And the connection was gone.
Rey had found a sunny meadow about an hour away from the base. Rolling hills made for an easy hike but it was still far enough away to be private. A steady and gentle wind off of the lake below made the wildflowers sway. In the past few weeks, it had become her favorite place to meditate and train. And after her last encounter with Ben, she'd needed privacy to rebalance. She felt connected and peaceful, sitting for hours just feeling the lush aliveness.
Several days after a ground-soaking rain, Rey returned. She arranged her hooded cape on the grass, pulled off her boots and waded into the cool, clean water of the lake, letting it lap at her calves. She looked up at the sky, marveling in the way the sun didn't immediately burn. She'd gotten so used to the harshness of Jakku that every day here felt indulgent.
Afterward, she sat in the meadow with her eyes closed. The wind pulled at her hair, tickling it across her face. She wiggled her toes. Her lightsaber and belt were next to her, just within reach. A slight smile spread to her lips.
The animal sounds around her faded and she could hear her own breathing echoing. Rey waited a few seconds to collect her thoughts before she opened an eye.
Ben sat in front of her. To her, it looked like he was slightly downhill but of course she had no idea where he really was. Rey took a slow, deep breath.
“Hello,” she said.
He was searching her face. She didn't have time for this. She let her eyelid slide shut again. The sunlight was warm and soothing and she didn't need to see.
She didn't jump when he touched her, lightly tracing her finger with his. The sensation was so delicate that she couldn't tell if he was wearing his gloves at first. She focused hard on where they were meeting and the tingling of skin against skin told her that he wasn't. The touch felt tentative, like he was asking a question. She didn't stop him. He carefully lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. Rey tried to keep her face impassive. He kissed her palm and the pads of each finger. Waves of happiness washed over her and she couldn't tell if they were from her or him.
Gently, he tugged at her arm wrap until it came untied. He trailed a line of kisses around her wrist and up her arm. Rey knew that what he was doing meant something, she just wasn't sure what it was yet. But the simplicity and reverence of it made tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. When he reached her shoulder, Rey held out her other hand to him, lifted each finger for him to kiss. She could feel his breath over her skin.
He unwrapped her arm, made his way with an awed roaming. Finally, he was on the edge of the band over her scar. At first, it had been too painful to look at the two forked lines that almost connected. It had hurt to remember. But she realized that, for a while now, she had accepted it as part of her fight. And his.
Rey nodded.
He unfastened the end of the leather strap and unwound it. When it fell off, she felt a staggering rush of gratitude from him. For him. He whispered something against her skin there and although she couldn't hear it, she could feel it and her tears started in earnest, slipping out from her closed eyes. There was forgiveness before the apology, understanding before an explanation. There was only peace.
He tucked an escaped wisp of hair behind her ear before giving her tear-streaked face a soft brush with his fingers. A lingering kiss on one cheek, then the other. Then her forehead.
And, finally, their lips met. Gentle and easy at first until she parted her mouth and let him in. Rey let the kiss push her onto her back. Heat built quickly and his flickering thoughts slid into hers. Him saying something to make her smile, her at the peak of an orgasm with her legs wrapped around him, him waking up in the middle of the night to reach for her. Rey moved underneath him, fumbling to get to her waistband.
He ended the kiss to slide down her body, stopping to bury his head against her neck while he helped her pull off her pants.
As soon as she was settled, his warm hands wrapped around her feet, squeezing and massaging. His thumbs worked into her arches. She moaned happily, letting her arms flop into the long grass above her head, the flexible stems weaving between her fingers. She could feel the breeze against her.
He pressed a kiss on the inside of her ankle, working his way up to her knee. He ran his hands over her legs and hips. Anticipation swept off of him, like somebody very hungry sitting down at a table full of their favorite things. He cradled the curve of her lower back, breathing her in. She finally glanced down to see his soft, dark hair spilling against her thigh.
A teasing, barely-there brush from his tongue made her move in his hands. Another, more firm pass that traced her lips and she was looking at the blue sky above her, lost in the moment.
She reached down to run her fingers through his hair, pleased to find that it felt as silky as it looked. He sucked carefully at her clit.
“Good,” she said. She could feel his pleasure wash over her.
His tongue flicked and she jerked up into his mouth with a gasp. He locked his arms around her, holding her firmly while she writhed. Once he found a rhythm that made her thrust, he was unrelenting. The delicious coiling of an orgasm started deep. She was shaking, every move of his tongue bringing her closer.
When she got there, she rocked against him with full-body shudders. Her thoughts were a white-hot light that burned away everything that wasn't him and her. With the last wave, the world came back. Sounds first, then the clouds and the faint daytime outline of distant moons. She was liquid in his arms.
Rey gripped his shoulders to pull him up.
“Kiss me,” she told him, trying to catch her breath. He reached a hand up to wipe off his mouth.
“No,” she said. His eyes snapped to hers. “Kiss me.”
And his lips were on hers in an instant, open and messy. She matched him, reveling in the taste of herself on him.
Rey pushed up with one leg, pressing into him until he rolled over onto his back. She followed, straddling him, not breaking the kiss. His hands wandered over her hips and waist, and she wanted him again.
She sat up, feeling his clothes against her bare skin. His mouth was soft and wet and she traced his bottom lip with two fingers. Then she slowly pushed them in, gliding over his teeth and tongue, watching the way his mouth wrapped around her until the memory of his mouth on her wasn't enough.
She moved her way up his body until her knees were spread wide on either side of his head.
Looking down, she felt nothing but delight surging from him.
She lowered herself until he could reach her with his tongue. He moaned immediately and she was grinding into it.
Yes. He eased the word into her mind.
As he breathed through his nose, she felt the warm rush of it against her, the sound amplified by their closeness and by the echoing bond. Their eyes met and held.
His tongue slid firmly between her lips and she could feel every tiny shift of it in her core. At the top of each pass, he lingered on her clit with a slow, circling rolling that made her sigh and reach down to stroke his hair absentmindedly. His hands ran over her stomach, up to her breasts. He cupped her through the fabric, a momentary roughness as he pulled her down harder against his tongue. Rey wriggled in his grasp. She had an awareness of being utterly wanted but the desire coming from him wasn't consuming. It was complete.
And he was locked between her legs. She felt strong when she looked down at him.
She slid herself over his face, controlling the movement with gentle thrusts. Soft lips, strong tongue, barely-there stubble. Everything wet.
She leaned back to rest her hands behind her, feeling his chest and stomach muscles moving under layers of clothes. She wished there was nothing separating them so she could feel all of him. His lips moved, then slowed as he latched on and sucked. Rey rocked into the pull of his mouth. A sharp heat started to build and she sped up to meet it.
He gripped her hips to help her snap forward against his tongue, like he was telling her she could go harder. Her toes curled, legs clamping around him as it hit. His fingers found their way to her clit, working with his tongue to wring it out of her. Shaking and silent at the enormity of it, she fought to keep herself upright. She could feel her own half-formed thoughts moving between them. That this felt like disappearing, that she didn't want to keep any of it a secret, that he was always inside of her. But the words guttered out like distant stars.
When it was over, she was left with an indescribable contentment. Rey rolled off of him and tumbled down onto the grass to catch her breath.
She let her knees fall open and the breeze prickled over her wet skin.
There was a strange kind of tension in the space between them, like there was something he wanted to say. There were things she wanted to do, too. She wanted to tuck herself under his arm and fall asleep against his chest. She wanted to lazily drape her legs over him and tell him about the strange animal she'd seen gliding across the lake the week before. She wanted him to read something to her.
Rey glanced over at Ben. He was staring at her, a tidal wave of emotion crashing out from him. It was so disorienting, so overwhelming, that it took Rey a moment to find the word for it.
Love.
Just love.
“Ben,” she whispered.
And she sent her own right back to him.
He found her hand, slowly intertwined their fingers.
Ben gave a little squeeze before the connection was severed.