The Last Knight

Ch. 9: A BB Unit

She had gotten into his head again, just like that. All she had to do was turn around, drop her book, and look up at him with those wide, pleading eyes. She had called him Master Ren. Instead of knocking her on her ass when he stepped through the doors, he was actually relieved to see that she was safe on Starkiller Base. He had known his knights had kept her from running away, but he was still somehow shocked to see her there, simply lounging and reading.

His desire to harm her had suddenly been replaced by a desire to... possess her. He wanted her on her knees again, gasping and crying as he pounded into the back of her throat. After all, he had made it clear that she was his. He wanted to remind her though, just for good measure. How dare she try to leave the First Order? Leave him? After she had fought so hard to stay at the beginning. His rage had begun to morph into something even more wild and untamed, shifting to form a new kind of monster that he had never seen before. This strong and intense desire had washed over him like burning lava, forging an invisible connection between them. He felt it when he was around her, and he knew that she felt it too.

The control he had experienced while watching the flames overtake the village on Jakku was gone. Ripped from his grasp by an orphan girl. And the only way to regain his upper hand was to feel her sighing into his mouth as he ran his hands over every inch of her body. He needed to taste her. He wanted her to scream his name. He wanted to split her open and fill her to brim. He had to have her.

So he did.

He had wanted to be gentle at first, to take his time with her. He told himself that tonight would be the last time that he would allow himself to succumb to this behavior, so he needed to be patient. He needed to savor the moment. Savor her sweet, blissful sighs. Unfortunately, the whole ordeal hadn't lasted very long at all. It was all he could do not to tear her clothes off her body and bend her over the table immediately. The way she whispered "I hate you" had sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He relished in the taste of her as she spasmed on the table from the work of his tongue, his length aching as it pushed against his pants. He had made a conscious effort to slow down after that, but hearing her ask for him had simply sent him over the edge. He had absolutely pounded into her as her tight little hole clenched around him. It was almost too much to bear.

The way she looked at him as he filled her up drove him crazy. He didn't just want to teach her how to control the force, he wanted to show her other things too.

And now, as he watched the rise and fall of her bare chest as she slept, he regretted all of it. He cursed himself over and over again for losing his control. He cursed her for doing this to him. And most of all, he cursed himself for continuing to lie there, feeling the invisible string that had somehow tethered him to her.

He could have done more. He could have went on for hours, teasing her and hearing her beg before driving her over the edge again and again. He would never get tired of the way that she became absolutely soaked for him. He could have made it hard for her to walk the next morning. At least he had tried to warn her... tried, in his own way, to ask permission. At least he had forced himself to stop where he did, before he had made a complete mess of her... that was something to be proud of, right?

He decided he would give himself the rest of the night, taking the time to memorize the curves of her body in the soft glow of the dim fire. Her legs entangled with his on the couch. And though he hadn't slept in days, he forced himself to stay awake. He knew very well that the only thing that would ever keep him company as he slept were his nightmares. He would never dream of sharing that vulnerability with another living person. He hated even to think that the stormtroopers patrolling the halls at night could hear him from his quarters, waking himself up with his own screams.