Bonds
He knew the moment he saw her: she was the one. The One. His. She was perfect for him, perhaps just a stroke of luck, or maybe created by the Force itself. His ultimate foil.
Her pupils dilated when he moved his helmet and he knew he had her. She felt it, too. And she was strong, a quick learner, turning his own power back on him, leaving him shaken in her wake. When she escaped he’d been furious, less for the information in her mind than for the loss of her.
But he could still feel her out there in the Galaxy. They were connected now.
Kylo had not entertained that sort of relationship before. There was little room for romantic entanglements in his life, not even more practical partnerships. But what he felt with her, the tie that now somehow bound them through infinite space, it was a marriage as much as any he had ever seen. It was surely stronger than the feeble joining of his mother and father.
The Force had drawn to him the perfect wife and joined them irrevocably.
How much more powerful would it be when he finally had her?
She was beautiful, his little scavenger, now clothed in soft, gauzy white. Her sun kissed flesh nearly glowed golden in the moonlight. Oh, she was a goddess. She trembled, her fingers curling and uncurling where they were secured together at the head of the bed.
“Don’t be afraid.” His voice was soft, whispering across her flesh like the drapery around the bed. It was all white; white bedding, white marble walls and floors, white moonlight streaming in through the arched windows open to the night. The breeze fluttered her soft hair across her forehead.
Her throat worked through her fear. “That’s difficult when you're being hunted by a creature in a mask.”
Gloved fingers released the lock of his helmet and he pulled it from his head, setting it on the side table with nary a tap. The buttery leather then trailed over the underside of her arm, setting gooseflesh to dance in its wake. She flinched away from him, and the corner of his mouth twitched up.
“You know I can take whatever I want.”
Her hazel eyes glimmered with unshed tears.
Kylo slipped the gloves off, spidery fingers long and pale as they smooth up her flesh. “You feel it, too.” Her head snapped back and she stared at him, meeting his eyes so close, an echo of the past. His eyes darted to her lips. “I know you do. We’re bound together.” He could feel the faintest brush of her breath twining with his own, tightening the threads between them. “We belong together. Rey.”
Her breath hitched and he knew that he had her then. His lips met her own, a gentle linking of passion that soon stirred to something greater. Kylo draped himself over her, holding his weight on a forearm and staring at the shock lighting on her features.
“You are so beautiful, Rey. Beautiful and powerful and mine.” His forehead pressed against hers between eager kisses.
“Kylo--” her voice was breathy, her brows knit, but her cut her off with another kiss, his tongue now sweeping across her bottom lip before exploring her mouth. She began to struggle in her bonds, protests dying between them.
When he pulled back once more he was shushing her. “It’s alright, everything is as it should be. Don’t you see? We’re meant for each other.”
He was tugging the white cloth from her breasts, revealing little handfuls for him to pluck and mold. His mouth dove to one dusky nipple rapidly tightening in the coolness of the night. Her words died on her lips as he overwhelmed her. “We need to consummate.” He tore through her undergarments and she quaked beneath him, slim body so frail.
“I don’t understand. Consummate?”
Fingers slipped along her slit, meting out some of the slick between her folds to rub at her clit. “The Force has bound us. As husband and wife.” His index finger entered her, pumping in time with the swirl of his thumb still stimulating her. Her back arched as his middle finger joined and the two fingers curled to find that spot inside of her.
Wetness drenched his hand and Kylo groaned, rushing to release himself. It was too early; she was tight and he was not small, but the scent of her sex permeated the air and he couldn’t wait. His head nudged at her entrance.
“Kylo, wait--” She choked as he started to push in, face crumpling in pain. It was still beautiful. She was still beautiful.
He looked down at where they joined, pushing into her until his length was sheathed, pulling back and moaning at the mix of excitement and blood staining his cock. “You are perfect, Rey, perfect. And all for me.”
He was overcome by her, radiant and writhing beneath him. His hands plucked her prurient nipples, and the image of them swollen and leaking milk flashing through his mind.
A child.
A family.
“Say you’re mine,” he murmured into her neck. She resisted, despite her toes curling in pleasure and knotting up her stomach. One large, pale hand encompassed her throat, squeezing in warning. “Say it!” Her tears flowed freely now, mouth agape as he choked her. It wasn’t until he heard the barest gasp of her attempts to speak that he loosened his grip.
“--Yours.”
“Again.” His mouth were paying homage to her throat, kissing, biting, sucking his ownership and worship into her flesh.
She hiccuped pathetically before whimpering, “I’m yours.”
He came inside of her, unable to resist the insidious words and her gripping walls. He was nearly sobbing as he collapsed on her, hands running over her smooth skin. “Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Rey woke, gasping for breath and choking on her tears. When she looked down at her aching core she saw blood.