28. Chapter 28
Rey settles her weight over his lap, her knees framing his hips, and Kylo has to tilt his face up to look at her. He doesn’t mind. He would stop time if he could, stay like this forever. She’s looking down at him with an exquisite longing, reverential and awe-struck. Her eyes are wide and dark as she draws her fingertips over the scar slashing his face but there’s no sorrow when she presses her mouth to it. An acknowledgement, not an apology. She dances her hands down his neck, drags her palms across his shoulders, traces the lines of his arms.
She bends forward and her hair brushes his cheek. It smells like his soap, like her. He leans up, desperate to close even this small distance, and then she says his name. The way she murmurs the syllables against his mouth is obscene and he wants her to say it again, over and over, just like that. She keeps herself just out of the reach of his lips so that only the ghost of her breath caresses him. He would have never imagined that she’d be such a fucking tease. He surges forward, thrusts his hands up into her hair and pulls her to him. She responds in kind, grinding down on him experimentally. He tightens his hands in her hair, tipping her head back, kisses down her throat, all lips and teeth and tongue. Her skin is salty and hot, her pulse hammering against his lips.
She rolls her hips again and his brain short circuits, leaves him seeing stars as his head falls back, a feral moan ripping up from his chest. His hands move, almost without thought, under the hem of her shirt, his shirt . He drags his nails up her back, knows he’s leaving marks across her skin, and the feeling of the tingling sensation across his own back makes him harder still. She wants to lose control, is desperate for more and more and more. She snatches her hands off of him and for the briefest moment he thinks she’s going to stop and his world is about to end but instead she grabs at the hem of the shirt and tears it over her head in a quick, impatient movement.
His mouth falls open and he’s gaping at her like an idiot, hands still on her back, but she remembers how to move even if he’s forgotten. Rey arches her back, rubs herself against his erection again and, fuck, she’s so hot there. He can feel her even through all these layers of cloth. He whispers her name through split lips, a groan, a plea, a prayer. “Rey.”
The bond between them blooms at her name, her face bursting into a brilliant smile as he memorizes the swell of her ass, the curve of her hips, the soft plane of her stomach, the hard ridges of her ribs. She meets his eyes when his fingers hesitate at the edge of her breast band. The smile only grows when he dips briefly, teasingly, underneath the fabric and she lets out a soft, high sigh, moves against his hand. He reaches behind her, urging her body forward to his mouth, presses a long kiss to her sternum. Electricity crackles between her fingers and his scalp as she clings to him, electricity that collects and pools in his stomach when she pulls him up to kiss her mouth. She doesn't let him linger there, and he’d be disappointed at that, but her clever mouth skips down, sucks a mark on his neck, stops to tongue at the hollows of his clavicle before biting just hard enough into the meat of his shoulder.
Peeking up around his neck, she notes the bed behind him. The thought zips from her mind to his before he can voice it aloud. Rey laughs, shivering, delighted, when he rises with her still in his arms. It takes no effort, but he’d stand here all night with her ankles locked behind his back and his arms under her thighs, kissing her senseless, if it would make her laugh like that again. It seems a shame to drop her onto the bed, to break this connection, but he does it just to hear her indignant squeak of surprise and to see the cross look flash in her hazel eyes. He grins down at her and it feels almost as good to smile as it does to kiss her.
She sits, surprise at the falling fading back into desire , pushes his shirt up his torso. He takes the hint, pulls it over his head, lets it fall to the floor. The desire flowing through their connection is heady, intoxicating, and her eyes burn as she places a hand over his heart. She begins mapping the scars on his body, sketching over wounds long healed. There’s a rushing in his head as she runs her palms over his chest and down to the puckered mess of his side. The scar is still pink, still shiny, and Rey leans to inspect it, the tip of her nose brushing his ribs. Her breath tickles the hair below his navel, sends a shock straight to his groin. She looks up at him from under her eyelashes, snags him by the belt loops and presses a lingering, searing kiss over the bowcaster scar. Her thoughts brush against his, admiration at his strength, respect for his resilience, sorrow for his pain.
His mind races with all the other things she could do with her mouth, what he could do with his . Her eyebrow quirks at him and she sends a staggering array of suggestions to him through their connection. His cock jumps in anticipation and she huffs out a breathy laugh against his side. He cups the curve of her jaw in his palm, lifts her gently until she stretches up, flush against him. She kisses like a woman starved, hard and insistent, then hooks a leg behind his knees and falls back, pulling him down on top of her.
Kylo catches himself before he crushes her and adjusts his weight onto his elbows, hands framing her face, and shakes his head to flick the hair out of his eyes. She curves her spine, nudging her breasts up against his chest through the fabric of her underwear, tangling her legs with his. He kisses her into the pillow and she wants him closer, begging through the connection for more.
They always want the same damn thing.
Rey grunts, frustrated, as he pulls away, raises himself up on one arm. He wants to say something, but saying nothing feels even better. With his free hand he strokes across her brow, over the shell of her ear, across the swell of her cheek and nose. She nips at his fingers, her hands flying to the back of his neck, trying to pull him down to her mouth. He presses a kiss to the inside of her elbow and slides a hand down her shoulders to her back, searching for the end of the cloth binding. He finds it and she nods, her thrill shooting through their connection as she trembles beneath him. Kylo unwraps it with adrenaline-shaky fingers, releasing her breasts to the cold air of the room. Her nipples, dusty rose and perfect , pebble in the chill and he throws the cloth artlessly aside to free his hands. She preempts him, pushes away his palms when he tries to cover her again. She rolls her shoulders, gives an imperious lift of her chin, and leans back on her elbows, proud, on display. For him.
He flashes back through his dreams, his imaginings, and none of them compare to her reality. He lowers himself, licks down her neck to the space between her breasts, brushes the impossibly soft skin with his lips and his hands. A harsh flare of want shoots through their connection, burns from his mind through his veins to his aching erection. She presses into the contact, pulling him with her down onto the mattress, holding him in place. Her sharp gasp, the way she moans his name - “Kylo!” - both aloud and in his head when he takes a nipple into his mouth is utter, encompassing bliss. She needs this, needs him . It’s a revelation and it blinds him, blots out all other dreams or desires.
He crawls up her body to recapture her mouth and she rakes his back with her nails. His own need wraps around hers through their connection, twisting and dancing, escalating, always drawing closer together until they merge into a single indistinguishable demand. He is insatiable and his thirst is a visceral thing in his head that shreds his self-control. He pulls away, rests his head against her shoulder, watches her chest heave in time with his own, trying to cool his blood so as not to end this all before it really begins.
Rey cards her fingers through his hair again and Kylo pushes himself up to his knees. There are no questions between them now, no anger, no fear. Her pleasure streams through the bond as he slides his hands over her hipbones, down under the waistband of her trousers. She squirms, cooing and mewling, arching and caving as he curls his fingers into the damp of her underwear. His cock throbs he strangles another filthy groan. She is so wet and he’s never seen anything as beautiful as she is now, wriggling beneath his hands in frenzy, ecstatic.
She’s struggling with the cord that holds up her pants, pushing the trousers over her hips and down her thighs when the first subsonic boom rips over their breathless gasping. A second later the room shakes and she clutches at him as the holochron rattles on the shelf. Their eyes meet, noses almost touching, and they know.
The Resistance has arrived.
“Fuck !” She says it out loud and he thinks it, sharp and violent, at the same time. He disentangles his hand from her underwear and leaps off the bed, mind whiting out in panic. Tossing Rey her breast band, he shrugs his shirt back on, emerging to see her re-wrapping her chest with brutal, efficient twists. She curses violently as she struggles into her borrowed tunic, her hair a mess around her face.
“I fucking hate your friends,” he snarls, glancing at the chronometer that flips from 04:00 to 04:01. He tries to focus on the swirl of stars in her head, reaches deep into their connection as they dress and arm themselves: pants, tunic, belt, boots, lightsaber. Rey spares a moment to wedge Yali’s box under her belt as he pulls on his gloves.
This is all happening too fast, spiraling out of his grasp, and he takes a precious second to grab her by the shoulders as she raises a hand to the door. There’s no time for declarations or speeches, so he just takes her face in his hands once more and kisses her roughly, one last time. She stands on tip-toe, returning the kiss, ferocious, desperate. He sears the feeling into his heart as her fear and rage thrum in his veins, crystallizing into heavy, sharp things to throw against the world. He would rip apart the galaxy for her. She would put it back together, more perfect than before, for him. She looks him in the eye and he nods, just once.
Then she’s waving the door open and they’re running, feet hammering against the tile as they retrace the familiar path back to Snoke’s cavern. A plan forms as they careen down the twisting stairs. Their best chance is to surprise the old monster, attack while his guard is down, depend on distractions to break his focus. Not having to speak aloud to hammer out the details of the plan is a huge boon - it saves their breath, conserves their strength. They slow to a jog as they approach the passage down to the cave.
It’s an odd thing to go before the Snoke as something both more and less than the First Knight of Ren. The Supreme Leader is sitting on his dais, datapad in hand, working. Kylo’s never known him to sleep. Rey jogs beside him to keep up as they approach the platform. “My lord, we were on our way here when the rebel attack began!”
The broken face jerks up at the statement, nostrils flaring. “What? A Resistance attack? Why are you not leading the Knights against this assault, Kylo Ren?”
He raises an invisible eyebrow and Kylo nods. “The girl, my Lord-”
His eyes flick over Rey and he leans forward, eager, distracted. “Have you have done it then, my apprentice? Swayed her to our will? Let me see for myself.” Snoke cuts him off, crooks a finger at Rey.
Her boots scrabble against the tile as she’s dragged forward. Snoke means to touch her now. This isn’t what they had planned, but Rey seizes the opportunity, always looking for openings. A fierce joy, a silent clarion call to battle, an inescapable eagerness to fight surges through him. Rey’s battle meditation is far stronger now than in practice, and it surges through his mind. She’s accelerating as she skims up the dais, drawing in Snoke’s power to enhance her speed, lightsaber igniting as she swings down at the hand outstretched to reach into her mind.
Snoke's power flares as her lightsaber comes up, an ultraviolet strike flashing where the burning blue blade connects with his defenses before the saber bounces back. Rey twists away from the snatching fingers, tucks into a tumble down the stairs. The scrape of stone against her shoulders barely registers, and Kylo ignites the beams of his lightsaber as she rolls up to her feet, back on guard.
There’s a moment of surprise on Snoke’s face and then he laughs, thick and gravelly. It echoes in the chamber as he stands before his throne. “So this is your game? Usurpation under the guise of an attack on my temple? You don’t have the nerve, boy.”
Rey circles to the side as Kylo whirls his sword through the air, big flashy movements intended to keep Snoke’s attention on him. He swallows hard, trying to get his heart out of his mouth. Despite his nerves, it feels good to be here, to be acting. Even if he is killed here, he will die defiant, no longer a puppet.
He snarls at his old master, lets the anger flow hot and bright in his mind. “Don’t I?” He rushes at Snoke, Rey darting in from the back, lightsabers humming through the air.
Snoke deflects his strike and Kylo strains against the carmine heat, too close to his face. Snoke comes up to grab him and Kylo blocks with his blade. The beam shrieking against the power from Snoke’s palms, he digs his boots into the stone and shoves . Snoke skitters back under the assault, bowing under a blue flash as Rey’s leaps. The distraction works for a moment before Rey is bowled back, crushed under an invisible weight. She grunts and Kylo exploits Snoke’s distraction for all it’s worth, carving dark slashes into the shielded, skeletal back.
Snoke spins back with an animal snarl, traps his blade, leers down at him through froth flecked lips, forces Kylo off balance. “In all our years together, you never once tried to raise a hand against me. This is no courage of yours, boy. One soft touch from a kind hand and you were seduced, Kylo Ren. I wish I was surprised. Do you think she will be impressed by this little display?”
Rey opens their connection, pulls in their separate pains and rages, cold tempering hot, forging a well of power to cut through the weight crushing against her chest. She frees herself enough to deflect Snoke’s reaching fingers with needle jabs of Force at his face and neck. Kylo seizes the opportunity to twist is weapon free from where it steams, mere inches from Snoke’s fist, and endures a harsh swat of power that sends him skidding away as Snoke turns his attention back to Rey.
“No, I believe this is the design of our dear sweet Rey.” Snoke waves the stinging power away, reaches out to her. Rey falls to her knees, tears at the pressure against her throat. “You had so much promise, girl, and you’ve wasted it on him.” Dark bruises bloom on her throat and Kylo feels her righteous indignation burn through the helpless choking panic and the poison rolling off Snoke’s tongue. “He will turn on you in the end. You think you can use him? That is a delusion, you little idiot. You don’t even know what he is.”
Kylo pours his strength into her and with his help she is able to fight off the stranglehold, but something wrenches, pops, deep in her throat. He grunts, coughs in response, his own throat constricting. Staggering, she charges back at Snoke, drawing his attention away as Kylo raises his sword and charges at the newly exposed side.
The Supreme Leader twists like a worm, limbs twitching just beyond the range of their saber strokes and then lunging after them as they wind up for the next attack. Long arms whirl and the broken face doesn’t change expression as an arm flings out at Rey. She flies forward with a snarl, skimming past Snoke and only a hard fall down those goddamned stairs saves them from being impaled on the other’s saber. The cut in his mouth breaks open again and he flinches as her forehead collides with the stone. Her skin splits, blood sheeting into her eye. It’s a dizzying impact, and blood flicks from his mouth as he shakes his head to clear it. She pulls herself up the wall, blinking and wiping at her eye, growling low in her ruined throat as she turns back to Snoke, the blue glow of her saber unwavering before her.
The bond crackles with frost, an anger so cold it burns, and she charges. Snoke laughs, opens his arms as if to welcome her, and the floor beneath his boots ripples, a deafening explosion booming high above their heads. It shakes pebbles loose from the ceiling, sends shards hailing treacherously down onto their heads. It’s a necessary instant of distraction and her saber ejects a cascading shower of violet sparks as it drags against the Supreme Leader’s side. Snoke’s eyes flick up to her and Kylo opens himself to the endless void of this place, channels every bit of power he has to slow his master, to weaken the lashing limbs as Rey batters at Snoke’s Force shields, blade hissing as it breaks through his shields, sizzles where it finds flesh.
Get away from him! Kylo screams into her head around the ringing in his ears, flinching as a cobble comes loose from the ceiling and shatters a few feet away from him. She complies, leaps back from Snoke, and for a moment he’s weak with relief as Snoke tears at the restraining tendrils of Force and turns his fury to Kylo. Dancing blue-white lightning zigzags across the open space and strikes his chest, setting his nerves alight with blinding pain.