Royal Imitation | Kylo Ren

Painted Affairs

He pulled away, "Princess," He purred, delight sparkling in his dark eyes.

Kylo's complexion was rosy and his eyes were glassy and dilated as they met mine. I exhaled slowly in response to his deep utterance, my brows lifting from a previous tensing and my mouth relaxing whilst his salvia mingled on the shine of my lips as mine did with his.

I stared into his deep, brown eyes, looking for an answer to my inner questionings, as to why I am so attracted to a dangerous and sinister man, who will most definitely tear this planet to shreds, and then ask me to assist him in doing the same with a thousand more.

But my head only tilted slightly against the paint, my hair surely ruined in pastels, and I surprised myself, when I smiled to him. His cheeks almost burned in my beam and I can tell that I caught him by surprise too. Who would have thought? A mere peasant girl, bringing one of the most powerful men to his knees, submerged in soft and gorgeous paints, rather than the coating of his enemy's blood.

When my smile gave way to the trembling of his intoxication, he only moaned once more, before returning his mouth to mine, whilst unclipping his murderous lightsaber off of his belt and throwing it to the side of the room, where it scrapped against the tarp like the clashing of rain against the arched windows of dreamscapes.

The next kiss warmed me up to the brim, smacking me so hot that I burned all over with need, but as quick as his tongue had forced itself back into my mouth, he pulled away and suddenly, the bitter taste of grotesque paint that was lapped over leather, prodded at my lips, tingling with an asking.

My cheeks burned bright red, with his left hand standing potently at my mouth whilst his eyes grew hooded above me, and in the golden stare I only grew more drunk to his gaze, that I had to glance away, focusing on the decorative tints that dyed the black leather so chaotically.

Kylo Ren smirked at my shyness, only using his forefinger to push lightly against my teeth, and suddenly, I got the message.

I bite against the tip of his leather gloves, and he pulls his hand away whilst I do so, leaving the gloves to fall of his hands, but only slap down against my chin whilst I keep it between my teeth, awaiting the next hand to prod at my lips.

His naked hand takes away the glove in my lips, throwing it to the side around the whereabouts of his forgotten lightsaber, and then I do the same thing with his other hand.

Kylo's lips parted for a second, when the brisk air of my breath fanned against the flesh of his other hand, and then he smirked, "Good girl." He praised, like he often would, but that didn't stop the litter of goosebumps to form along every crevasse of my skin.

Then pushing the skirt of my dress up, he pulled his hips away only to flip the fabric over my waist, which had become heavier than usual with the new stains of paint. Then, Kylo hovered back down between my legs, not before pulling down my undergarments along the sharp flesh of my exposed thighs, and then down to my ankles, where he unhooked the garment from one boot but left it around the other.

He only flickers his gaze up my legs, briefly over my delicates and then to my timid face, that cowered in sudden anxieties of his prying eye, but he didn't seem to care.

"Your beauty was often shared in words, but it is an understatement to your true enchantment," He purred, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

It stunned something in me alive and a squeak only erupted up my throat at his honesty.

But my conscience only ruined the fluttering of butterfly wings that tickled against my heart, as it clapped each wing between its hands and then hushed a wondering of what he would think if he saw the real Princess – Would he think she was more glorious than the slum girl, who truly wore old rags and was covered in grime, rather than paint and gold?