Cruel Destiny | Kylo Ren

Belong

Once he kisses my neck my mind crumbles. After just a few delicate touches of his warm lips my hands will start to do his bidding, twining into his long hair and tugging lightly—urging his lips go harder and when he nips the flesh, I moan.

He huffs against my neck and I can feel his lips stretch into a grin against the skin. My face flushes momentarily but when his mouth returns to my own, I forget about any other warmth that isn't him.

With his hands along my hips, my own fall down his back as my head swims. Then, his fingers move up to my chest, and my heart threatens to jump into his grip for him to own as he delicately cups my bust, his thumbs grazing over the material as if to map out the skin beneath it.

I had never been touched this way before, but I never wished for him to stop until he actually did—pulling away and noticing now how he kneeled between my legs, he twists his arms around his back and pulls off his shirt from the bottom upwards.

I sucked in a sharp breath as his shirtless torso was exposed to me. I had seen it before underneath the harsh lights of the hospital ward, but I was still stuck in a moment of adoration at the litters of scars that looked as beautiful as the galaxy did. His body was drool-worthy. He had a chiseled chest and the skin on it was glowing healthily beneath the reds and purples. His abdominals were sculptured to perfection as if the God's had spent as much time on his body as much as they did on his wondrous face.

Completing his masterpiece, his shoulders, always covered by heavy black but now, round and protruding, give his whole look a new flavour. I want to extend my hands to touch and I am begging him mentally, hoping that it shows in my eyes—that he would be able to decipher my feelings.

There's a vulnerability in his eyes and I can't resist. Finding sudden confidence, I reach my trembling fingers to the buttons of my blouse, untucking the material from my lengthy skirt and peeling the material from my flesh.

My heart feels incredibly defenceless behind only bone and flesh that prickled in the open air, but my organ would bleed out dry for Kylo in this very moment.

He remains eye contact until they travel from my face to my collar bone, delicate in the semi-darkness, then to my exposed breasts. Without the tight blouse, they sit more natural, less close together and more moulded to my form. His eyes don't linger for too long, just enough for me to understand the cherish in his eyes—for his hands could tell me the rest as they return back to the flesh.

One inhale of his musky scent and I want the rest of his clothes on the floor too. His right hand drops to my thigh, pulling up the skirt that hangs so loose just above my knees. I couldn't move even if I tried, like his fingers have short circuited my mind in the best possible way.

Eyes searching mine. I smile and kiss him back as he knew I would. With my lips I feel his mouth stretching wider than it should, fighting between a grinning and kissing. We've done this so many times and it keeps on getting better.

I feel my back arch in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. My head rocks back against the pillow as he does, the first moan escaping my lips.

As his hands move over my most delicate area, swiping my undergarments to the side, the rest of my body has a transitory paralysis whilst my mind was unable to process the pleasure his fingers were bringing so fast.

His head moves around to my left ear and suddenly my body is off pause-mode and I turn my face for a kiss that's both soft and hard. Both of us move in an intoxicated dance of limbs.

"Are you ready?" He breathes, his voice shaky and the lust floods his tone.

I nod, my mouth going dry. I didn't know what to entirely expect but if his fingers can cause that much pleasure, than surely he can only bring more.