Party Foul
Summary: It was just supposed to be a party. A party that Ben coerced you into going to, but a party nonetheless. So what’s the harm in knocking back a few drinks and curling up in Ben’s bed? A lot, apparently. (Or: RC gets plastered and Ben puts her to bed in Kylo’s room because other people were using his, and Kylo takes it as an invitation)
Word Count: 11,776
Warnings: Innocence Kink, Concept of Virginity, literal rape, non-con, coercion, intoxication, abuse of alcohol, creepy and manipulative, unprotected sex, rough handling, so much dirty talk, all the praise and petnames in the world. Reader has awful intrusive thoughts. Ben is a good boyfriend and Kylo is a terrible person. Dead Dove, Do Not Eat
Pairing: Female!Reader x Kylo Ren
A/N: I started this fic way back in like, 2019, right around the time my hyperfixation with Star Wars was beginning to peter out. Since then, it took me a year and a half to get to finishing, and longer still to get around to finishing editing. I’ve rewritten portions over and over again, and basically edited the thing into the ground - honestly I can’t even tell if its quality anymore. The sex is hot though, and I wanted this fic to sort of be my last kiss goodbye to the Star Wars fandom. I’ve finally decided to just put it out there in its current state. If even one person enjoys it, that’s better than letting it rot in my drafts.
I could wax all sorts of poetic as to what this fandom meant to me when I was desperate to cling onto anything good. I could talk about the people that I grew so close with, the ones I regret drifting from and miss every time I get around to checking my Tumblr. But this author's note is long enough as it is.
Please enjoy.
Anna, I’d like to dedicate this fic to you. Stay monstrous.
Read her works at @kylorengarbagedump
It wasn’t like you meant to get trashed.
If anyone was to blame it was Ben, the rat bastard. He brought out your competitive side with a ferocity that no one else could manage. With that sugar-sweet half smirk, he kept pushing drinks into your hands, always following with a snarky comment about not being able to keep up. Or something. It was hard to remember correctly right now, especially with the lights swirling behind your eyelids with vibrant colors constantly threatening to shift the ground out from beneath you.
At some point it had gotten late (or maybe even particularly early, depending on how you looked at it). The dip in energy was palpable- the thriving undercurrent of exhilaration had since petered out to a dull thrum, and splashes of moonlight crawled lazily through the windows, resting in beautiful geometric figures on the walls. A group loitering next to the front door booed heartily when it swung shut with a loud slam, warm summer night air chased away by the chill of the air conditioner as the gaggle of drunkards lamented the loss of their friend. As if he’d been laid to rest instead of tucked away inside an Uber.
A contemplative expression stole over your features before you decided, yes, you were grateful that you didn’t have to worry whether or not you’d actually make it home. No need to fret about putting your blind, drunken faith in some stranger that happened to have a car, even if you couldn’t crash in the comforts of your own sheets tonight.
Ben had promised you a bed here, and hey, it wasn’t a couch, so yeah, you’d agreed to come over to their end-of-summer house party while Ben dangled free booze and all the cuddles you could stomach in your face. You’d given him a hard time, pretending to mull the decision over like it was something that pained you to think about (as if you wouldn’t follow Ben to the ends of the Earth). Eventually those puppy-dog eyes of his broke through your facade, and the genuine grin that stretched across his face when you finally lamented your supposed loss was pretty much worth it.
That’s not to mention the hot twisting of your gut, warring within itself between the anxiety and the excitement of sharing a bed with Ben under privacy only the dark and a heavy quilt could harbor.
An arm snaked around your waist, pulling you backwards and interrupting the thoughts you were working very hard to string together. You stumbled back with an undignified squeak and swatted the large hand resting on the belt that looped around your middle.
“You look so cute when you ponder.”
“Be-en!” you scolded, shaking your head in a poor attempt to steady the room as it shifted around you. “You startled me!”
Ben’s low chuckle sounded in your ear and he began to sway behind you, your back plastered against his chest. “Sorry ‘bout that, kid.”
Your eyelids fluttered to a close for a precious moment, your whole body swaying with him in time to the music. At some point, a slow song had infiltrated Matt’s mix of aggressive techno-pop that had been blaring from the speakers not too long ago. The beat of the music trickled through your intoxicated state, and you turned around to throw your arms around Ben’s neck, locking your wrists together. In the process, you ended up dropping the red solo cup you’d forgotten was in your hand and spilled sticky booze down the back of Ben’s jacket.
“Oops!” you laughed, pulling back to snicker at his grimace. “Sorry ‘bout that, Bennie! Hey- that’s what you said to me!”
Ben shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it onto one of the plush sofas pushed to the edge of his massive living room. His hands found yours and wound them back around his neck before they settled on your hips, tilting his chin to peer down at you.
“That’s alright. I didn’t like that jacket anyways.”
Ben’s smile was effortless, and your blurry world turned a lighter shade of pink that had absolutely nothing to do with Matt’s precious LEDs. Weightlessness stole over your body, bubbly emotions springing to the surface and churning a pleasant warmth in your belly.
“You love that jacket,” You accused with a grin.
“Mm, yeah…” He seemed to think hard on his next words before he flashed you with his classic dazzling Ben Solo smile, said, “Yeah. But I love you more,” and leaned in to steal a kiss, much to your silly giggling chagrin. Between Ben and the booze, your system was verging on dopamine overload.
Your fingers wound themselves into the hair curling at the nape of Ben’s neck, drawing a devilish light in his eyes. Warm hands burned through the fabric of your dress and he tugged you closer by your hips, his nose coming to rest on your forehead. Your eyes closed in another stolen moment of appreciation at his warmth; he murmured your name in a puff of air, musing the hair on the crown of your head. It tickled, and you failed to suppress the tinkling laughs that bubbled up from your throat. With a burst of confidence, you slotted one of your thighs between his and pushed against him, pressing together from calf to chest. It still felt like too much space between you and him- a strange desire to crawl inside him and use him as a second skin stole over your thoughts and you blinked them away, deeming this utterly ridiculous and labeling it nothing more than a drunken thought. Ben must’ve seen some flash of your depravity in the light reflecting off of your glassy pupils, because he let out a troubled sigh and groaned out, “Oh, kid.”
Pinned under his heated gaze, visions bubbled to the surface of your consciousness unbidden; fantasies of Ben hovering above you, cradling you and entering you slowly while whispering sweet nothings into your ear in between his little grunts- it was almost too much to bear. Thoughts like these were dangerous. Very, very dangerous. Without your permission, echoes of a conversation you’d had with Ben months ago rang in your head, when you’d finally swallowed your pride and told him.
His laugh, rumbling and rising in pitch with his incredulity.
“I’m sorry? What was that?”
Hot. Too hot, your cheeks burning.
“Don’t make me repeat it.”
“No, really, I totally-” The strange strangled sound he made when he held back a laugh with no small effort. “I didn’t catch that.”
“... Isaidimavirgin.”
“What?”
“I said I’m a virgin!”
“Well jeez, no need to tell the whole coffee shop, kid!”
White hot embarrassment as the weighted gaze of every other person in the shop lands on you, dragging you down to the table to drop your head in your arms and groan.
“Christ, you’re a fucking asshole, y’know that?”
Ben had cracked some joke about fucking your asshole, to which you spluttered and actually spit your coffee out on the table, much to his fucking amusement. He was very lucky. Lucky he was so goddamn cute, and that the mischievous air about him really did things to you. It made you want to fall for his antics and yell at him and forgive every time, just so he’d kiss you like he did when he went too far, both an apology and a reward for putting up with his bullshit wrapped up in one delicious moment.
It was in that moment, swirling together under the soft yellow glow of the LEDs, suspended in your own little bubble and wrapped up in the mouth-watering fantasies of Ben’s face just before he came, his lips quirked to the heavens and eyes rolling back in his head, that you decided. If Ben would have you, you would let him take your virginity tonight.
Honestly it was about damn time- both you and Ben were absolutely fed up with having to bring your heavy petting sessions to a jarring halt before anything got too out of control. He’d never complain to your face, but you were pretty sure Ben could go for never having to take another cold shower in his life. There would be no looming boundary, nothing in your gut telling you stop, stop, stop, nothing to keep you from finally getting your fucking rocks off good and proper.
A shiver of exhilaration ripped through your body, and you imagined this to be what kerosine feels like just before its set ablaze. Liquid courage and newfound confidence boiled in your blood as you ground your hips against his, sultry desire pouring into your expression. Ben let out a stifled groan and firmed his grip on your hips. For a moment you thought he may grind back against you, your fingers tugging in anticipation at his hair. He gave a stuttering sigh and guided your hips back away from him, peeling his leg from the inside of your thigh, his eyes darkening with a note of seriousness that drew an exaggerated pout to your lips.
“Whatsa matter, Bennie? Don’tcha wanna dance?”
His smile, when it comes, is sad.
“I do, believe me, I do. But we need to get you to bed.”
You sniffle, searching his eyes for any sign of a joke. Something cold and sinister rattled against your ribcage, snaking up and around your spine to whisper in your ear.
He doesn’t want you.
That’s not true.
Why would he?
Because he loves me.
He’s only dancing with you out of pity.
Pity?
He could have anyone at this party.
You’re right. Look at him.
You stupid, stupid bitch.
Ben drew back (drew you out of your stupor), releasing your hips and using his left hand to snag your wrists and bring them back from over his head. He brought them to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the backs of your fingers, then held them close to his chest, the thudding of his heart drawing a sleepy blink and a contented sigh from your lips. The soft, even rhythm from under his ribs felt louder than the slow music in the background, a beautiful lullaby that pulled your eyelashes closer to your cheek and threatened to bring you under the blissful cover of rest.
“But Ben- ‘mnot even sleepy…” you whined through nearly closed lips, suddenly sagging against his chest, your head tucked under his chin.
“Yeah, sure thing kid. Let’s just go lay down then. I’ll sit with you, and we can talk about that candle store you like, huh?”
You nod against his chest, inhaling the scent of Ben’s collarbone: a mouthwatering cocktail of booze, cologne, and Ben. On a whim, you snake your tongue out to lick at the skin above his collar. The taste of his sweat sparked a flurry of embers in your belly, and you hummed against his skin. Ben barely suppressed his next groan, and instead pulled you back to look you in the eye.
“You better be careful with that tongue, kid. You’re gonna land yourself in trouble if you keep at it like that.” His words are scolding but the mischievous glint in his eyes suggests otherwise. You flash him a grin back, sticking your tongue out at him. He returns to favor, sticking his out at you, the both of you stuck making the same silly, childish face at one another. He’s quick; in a disorienting second, he jerks forward and licks the tip of your nose, sending you into a shrieking laughing fit.
“Be-en! Gross!!”
It’s then that Ben leans over, places his shoulder on your belly and grabs your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder. Your weight is no match for his muscles, and he carries you easily on his broad shoulder, his biceps flexing as you pound on his back.
“Put me do-own!”
Predictably he didn’t, not until the backs of your legs met silky sheets, your dress hiked up considerably from the ride. Ben leaned down at the waist again and you flung your hands out, one on each of his shoulders. Wariness etched itself into your features.
“Relax, kid, I’m not gonna pick you up again. I just want you to be comfortable.” He knelt to unhook your heels from your ankles, then bent to unfasten the belt around your waist. His deft fingers slid the belt off easily, despite your lethargic squirming.
“Ben, you- if you wanted to get me undressed, all you had to do was ask.”
His chuckle was little more than a puff of air. “Alright, drink lots of water and get some sleep,” The comforter felt blissfully soft against your skin as Ben tucked you in, his strong hands fluffing your pillow and then cupping your cheek. His palms were calloused but still soft, drawing a low hum from your chest as you closed your eyes. Plush lips met your forehead, warm and soft against your flesh. Your heart stuttered, lost in the glow of affection.
“G’night, Bennie,” you mumble, barely awake at all anymore.
The smile is audible in his voice.
“Goodnight, kid. Sleep well.”
Your dreams, when they come, are vague: brief flashes of lights and colors. Pop music seeps into your subconscious as the party continues with what’s left of the partygoers. Occasionally a face focuses into view, but before you can reach out and touch it, it twists into smoke and vanishes in the middistance. Your dreams glow vivid champagne pink every time it appears, so if you had to harbor a guess, the face belongs to Ben.
Pressure on your forearm brings some focus into your vision, allowing you a glance down at your floating body to pinpoint the source. Nothing visible is touching you, but the sensation seems to travel up your forearm, to your shoulder, over your jaw, and to your forehead, sweeping away locks of fallen hair. It leaves a trail of murky black haze in its wake, leeching the chill from the air and replacing it with a pleasant warmth. A delightful sigh loosens itself from your chest, and the next inhale draws you back to reality, your dreamscape twisting away in splotches of gray and black.
“Ben?” you mumbled, your throat constricted with sleep. His hand came into view, cupping your cheek like before but he felt… different. His palm didn’t hold the warm, fuzzy quality of Ben’s. There was a callus where Ben’s palm was smooth. His face, looming over you, leaned down to your side. A hot, wet trail wound itself along the shell of your ear, drawing a thick giggle out of you as arousal, fiery and tingling, spiked through your abdomen.
“Ben- what, aah- whatcha you doin’?”
A dark chuckle crystallized your vision - that’s not Ben’s laugh. It was cold. Detached.
Ice water slammed through your veins, your heart freezing over with a paralytic panic. Fear gathered in your mouth like spit and trickled down the back of your throat, settling deep into the pit of your gut. The instantaneous transition from arousal to terror seized your stomach in a way that made you think throwing up might not be out of the question.
“Not Ben, sweetheart.”
Shit.
It’s not Ben. His hair was too long, his nose just this side of too big, his eyes a much darker hickory color. To anyone else, he would look nearly identical. But to you, to anyone who has spent as much time as you have mapping Ben’s features, this man looked nothing like him.
“I know you. You’re Ben’s latest plaything.” Kylo made a rumbling noise in the bottom of his chest- a laugh? Your name was soft on his tongue but it sounded all wrong coming out of his mouth. His lips twisted where Ben’s curled up into a smile.
“If that’s the case, then I have to ask,” The mattress shifted beneath you as he pushed off his hands to sit on the edge of the bed, directly between you and the door. His knee knocked clumsily against your thigh where it sprawled out from under the comforter. His profile was a study of light and shadow, silhouetted in the moonlight. “What are you doing in my bed?”
You opened your mouth to speak but the stale taste of booze and sleep reared up the back of your throat, the nausea swirling in your stomach clashing with the disorienting sensation of vertigo. Your teeth clacked together noisily as you snapped your jaw shut, the jolting sound in the otherwise quiet room making you cringe. With no small effort, you managed to push yourself up onto an elbow. If you had to guess, you were only out for a couple hours or so- just long enough for your blood alcohol content to level out from smashed to buzzed. There was a clarity to your vision that wasn’t there earlier, but it still wasn’t enough to relieve the lightheaded tingling behind your skull, not too dissimilar from TV static.
A thick fog settled over your brain, smothering your judgment and slowing your processing abilities to a crawl. The entirety of your cognitive motor functions were fully dedicated to keeping the contents of your stomach where it belonged.
“What’s wrong, Princess? Had a little bit too much to drink?” Kylo cooed, derision leaking through his voice. “You know,” He started conversationally, idly brushing his hand up and down the comforter. “Ben wont shut the fuck up about you. Talks about you all the damn time.”
“All good things I hope,” You finally managed to retort, swallowing back a mouthful of spit and wishing Ben hadn’t put you on the side of the bed furthest from the door, its frame nearly encompassed by the looming image of Kylo’s sternum. “Ben brought me in here, I... I needed to lay down.”
“There is one other thing I’m curious about,” Kylo carried on, his eyes raking down the portion of your body not cloaked by the comforter: mainly your upper half down to your right calf. A mortifying heat singed across your skin; you’d managed to ruck your dress up to your hips in your fitful sleep. He bared his teeth in a wicked saccharine-sweet smile, and they glinted stark white in the light of the moon. “Ben says you’re a virgin.”
The word held no small weight of reverence in his voice, his eyes sparkling with dark intent. He must’ve seen some twist in your expression because a startled laugh tore itself from his throat, the noise jarring enough to prompt your flight response. Unfortunately, your muscles didn’t seem to get the memo; instead of leaping from the bed and tearing to the door, you shied further into the mattress. Kylo must’ve found this amusing as well, because his lips curled into a menacing smirk as his chuckles died down with your fleeting adrenaline.
“So it's true.” His voice was breathy and heated, something wicked crowding behind his eyes. “I’ve never fucked a virgin before.”
Exhaustion dragged your eyes shut and pulled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in from deep in your chest while every survival instinct in your mind revolted- never take your eyes off of a predator. Clearly, from the look in Kylo’s eyes, you were nothing more to him than prey.
“Let me sleep, Kylo,” you demanded weakly, scrubbing a clumsy hand across your face.
To your surprise, the mattress shifted and firmed back into place from where it gave way under his weight. For one shining moment, you actually believed you were in the clear.
And then the mattress dipped again, one large knee finding purchase as he wrenched the comforter from the bed. It settled forlornly across the floor and Kylo let out a soft grunt, swinging his other thigh up and over to bracket your hips. Panic seized your muscles in a tight grip and reared your hips upwards in a crude attempt to toss him off of you.
Kylo’s face softened as ice-cold dread seeped in your gut. He didn’t have to say anything- it was crystal clear. He’d misinterpreted your escape attempt as interest. Kylo’s retaliation came in the form of grinding down on your hips, pushing you deeper into the memory foam and groaning out something low and unintelligible. His white teeth were visible in his sneer, reflecting the muted moonlight streaming in from behind the sheer curtain. His knuckles were back on your face, the back of his hand sliding from your forehead down to your jaw. His thumb lingered on the joint there, the rest of his fingers traveling to the other side of your face and angling your head to the side.
“Nngh- Kylo- I,”
“Much as I love hearing my name come out of your mouth, little girl, you ought to be quiet. Still a handful of people out there. Matt really knows how to throw a party, huh?”
With a surprising amount of struggle, you managed to jerk your chin out from his grasp and toss your head away from him, glaring daggers into the bedroom wall as you fidgeted uselessly beneath him.
“Kylo, get- get off of me.”
A tinkling sound and a flash of light drew your attention to his waist, moonlight glinting off of his belt buckle as he pushed his shirt up his abs. A sliver of his pale abdomen sent a traitorous shiver up the back of your spine, which Kylo, still straddling you, definitely noticed.
“Getting excited, are we? Patience, Princess.”
This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. No, no, you didn’t stop every one of your ex-boyfriends from shoving his hand down your pants for this. This was supposed to be special- this was supposed to be Ben hovering over you, raking his eyes down your body. Not Kylo. It was supposed to be Ben’s soft palms slipping your dress up over your hips, running up your body and rubbing light circles on the fabric over your nipples.
Ben doesn’t want you.
Yes he does.
Then why isn’t he here?
He-
Why is it Kylo?
I don’t-
Why do you think he put you in Kylo’s room?
It must’ve been an accident, he-
What’s wrong with you?
I don’t know-
Why does it feel good?
It doesn’t!
Why aren’t you throwing him off?
I can’t!
Why are you enjoying this?
I’m not!
You are.
It should have been Ben. Instead, it was Kylo’s cold, rough hands that gripped the fabric of your dress too hard, that ran over your abdomen and up your curves, cupping your flesh. It was Kylo that leaned over after his blind inspection of your body was done, one of his hands braced on the pillows above your head, the other cupping the bulge growing in his pants, that nuzzled against the side of your neck. Full, soft lips pressed against the underside of your jaw and parted, suckling the flesh into his mouth and leaving a trail of broken capillaries in his wake. Fire flooded sluggishly through your veins as he continued his assault, every two or three stopping to bite into you. Attempting to flinch away from the sting of his teeth draws your hips up closer to his, his bulge brushing against your thigh with every pitiful jerk.
A husky chuckle washed over your neck as he breathed against you, his tongue laving over a bite that happened to break through the skin, swirling away the bead of blood pearling above your flesh. His breath was hot and wet when he spoke into your ear.
“Feel that, sweetheart? That’s what you do to me.”
A scream built in your chest, simmering with rage and panic, just waiting for your lips to slip open enough to let it out, to alert Ben, someone, anyone on the other side of that door that something terrible was happening in here. Kylo must’ve seen this in your eyes, because his hand lifted from the bulge in his pants to slide up your side and fan his fingers along the sides of your throat with enough pressure to pull a ragged gasp from you, the scream dying in your throat before it ever got a chance. The sadistic smile he’d been sporting the entire time slipped off his face and left behind a cold scowl, ten thousand times more anxiety-inducing. For a strange moment you actually missed the grin. He speaks before you can ponder this any more, baritone voice rumbling with a snarl.
“You think I like having to take you this way? You think I like having to watch you grind up against Ben out there? Hm? You think I like having to force myself on you for you to notice me? Answer me, girl.”
There’s a slack to his grip that wasn’t there before, demanding a response.
“Get off,” you mumble instead, face half-buried in the pillow.
A feral growl ripped from his throat; his hand clamped with crushing strength, cutting off your air completely with a sickening choking noise.
“Wrong answer.”
He sat back on your thighs, the hand above you coming to jerk down his zipper and unbutton the top of his black jeans. As your oxygen supply waned your desperation grew, your own much smaller hands flying up to claw at the one prohibiting your breathing. Once his jeans were undone, he shoved them halfway down his thighs and palmed his cock over his underwear. His shadow filled the room, casting an abysmal black against the far wall. His eyes glowed, a once soft brown now washed out into a strangely fascinating depth of honey-whiskey, his pupils a blown-out expanse of night dark enough to rival the midnight depth on the other side of the headboard.
What do you do when the boogie man is in your bed, instead of underneath it?
Kylo levels you with a look that scorches you from the inside out, pins you in place, and sends an entirely unwelcome rush of excitement towards your cunt. A whimper the size of a mouse eeks out from around his fingers and the sound seems to go straight to his cock, his eyes rolling back in his head for just a moment, the whites of his eyes unnaturally bright.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Jesus, you’re gorgeous. I can’t believe Ben hasn’t fucked you yet. What a fucking idiot. What the hell was he waiting for?”
The question doesn’t seem directed at you so much as Kylo just enjoying hearing himself talk. And besides, with his fingers still crushing your windpipe, there was no way you could answer. Inky darkness began to creep in from the edges of your vision, your hands losing their urgency in favor of grasping at his wrist with waning strength.
Kylo takes in the way your eyes begin to unfocus and leans in close, his spine curling over you like a cat until his lips brush against the shell of your ear, stray wisps of black hair tickling your face.
“Don’t even think about screaming.”
A tongue, delicious and terrible and blistering lavs against the skin just under your ear and a sharp whine filters out from your throat when he releases his grip, followed by an inelegant coughing fit while you fought with your own lungs to drag enough air in to chase away the awful light-headed dizziness.
“What’s to stop me?” You spit once you’d finally regained control of your vocal chords.
Kylo pulls back to sit on his calves once more, and examines this question with his lips screwed in a tight scowl until an idea takes place in his head. It spreads over his features in slow-motion, his eyes lighting with a spark so mischievous he almost looks like Ben- and that thought sends another wave of nausea rocketing through your system. His smile is razor-sharp and just as deadly.
The hand that settled on your collarbone after releasing your throat trails a burning path down your arm and circles your wrists, bringing them up to pin them above your head, your chest heaving with fear. The mattress shifts as he leans over and digs for something under the bed blindly. Frustration rolls off him in waves when he can’t find whatever it is he’s looking for, before his whole body jerks with delight and he fishes a black shoebox out, bringing it up and dropping it next to your left shoulder.
“You’re so lucky.” Kylo comments, rooting around in the box with his one free hand. He seems content to wait until you respond, but when its evident by the set of your jaw that you will be doing no such fucking thing, he only smiles wider and pulls something black and silver from the box before shoving the it off the bed where it slips down the wall. Your eyes strain in the darkness, but can’t seem to make out what it is he’s holding so gingerly. “Lucky you, you get to have me as your first.”
Kylo swallows hard, drops whatever is in his hands on the bed, and his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your white-lace panties, eyes wild.
Reality crashes down on you like an arctic waterfall, ice cold and aching in your joints, jerking you from your dream-like passive allowance of this tomfoolery. This isn’t a nightmare. This is real, way too real. Your hips bucked wildly in a blind panic, one knee coming up to nail him in the back while a litany of “no, no, no, no” fell unbidden from your lips.
The sudden strike sends him tumbling forward, his grasp on your wrists grinding the bones against each other as he supports his weight to slow his momentum. Indignance flares behind his eyes as he re-settles himself lower on your flailing knees, the joints groaning in threat of hyperextension.
It only takes one smooth motion for him to yank your panties down your legs. The cold chill of the bedroom hits your cunt with stark immediacy, the shallow sucking sound of your gasp echoing off the walls as your entire body trembles beneath him, tears welling up your eyes. Rapid blinks do nothing but push the tears over your cheeks, and the sight of them sends a brutal shiver up Kylo’s spine. His eyes stay locked with yours as he brings your panties to his nose and inhales deeply, eyelids hooded and heavy with the weight of his arousal.
“Fuck,” he groans again, dragging the word into two distinct syllables. “Ben is a fucking idiot.”
“B- Ben respects me,” you murmur demurely, eyes wildly scanning the room for anything to land on other than the sharp rise and fall of Kylo’s chest as he breathes in the smell of your cunt. A derisive laugh splits his face, the sound ringing through your head and confirming all your worst fears, your barest insecurities. All the air left your chest in one defeated exhale.
“Oh please, how naive can you be?” he mocks. “Ben was just waiting around for you to fuck him so he could say he bagged a virgin and move on.”
“That- That’s not true.” It sounds like a lie, even to your own ears. The overwhelming desire to hold yourself settles deep in your bones and you jerk your wrists against his grasp, gaining nothing but an inch of leeway before he tightens his grip and looks you fully in the face again, apparently snapped out of whatever trance your panties put him in. “Ben loves me.”
Kylo paints an expression of pity, one that looks so seamless that it must be staged.
“Oh, baby. No one could ever love you.”
Hearing those six words from someone other than the familiar voice of your own internal monologue hit you like a freight train to the chest, punching a hole through your heart and knocking the breath from your lungs in an audible exhale. Kylo took advantage of this, holding your chin still with his thumb and shoving your panties directly into your open mouth. The tangy taste of sweat and arousal clung to your tongue and sent you gagging, moving desperately to spit them out. His hand reached for whatever it was that he dropped earlier, used one move to push the panties back in where you’d managed to dislodge them and seal them in with a solid sized rubber ball between your teeth. Realization dawned on you like the daybreak as he dropped your wrists to secure the leather strap of the ballgag around the back of your head, snagging locks of your hair in the clasp. Kylo was fast, too fast, and your wrists were back in his hand before you could lift them from the pillows, his other hand snagging his belt buckle and pulling it free from his belt loops with a decisive motion. The pshwoop of leather dragging against denim echoed deafeningly in your ears. He brought the belt to your wrists and wrapped them once, twice, three times, four times, five, before he looped the leather through the wrought iron frame of his headboard and secured it with a sharp tug that showed no showed no give in his makeshift restraints.
Apparently pleased with his work, Kylo sat back on his heels and gripped your left thigh hard enough to leave five little bruises that were sure to make an appearance tomorrow morning, rocking forcefully into his own palm with the other hand.
“Fuck, you look perfect like this. God, your eyes-” Kylo cut himself off with a guttural groan. “You’re afraid of me. Shit, that’s so fucking hot. Yeah baby, look at me like that. Like you hate me.”
“I do hate you,” you mean to say, but it comes out muted and garbled behind your gag and he laughs at you again, laughs at the stain of red splashing across your cheeks and spreading down your neck, laughs at how you try desperately to hide your face in the pillows to no avail.
“Such a sweet little thing. Why do you think he put you in my bed instead of his? He doesn’t care about you. If Ben didn’t want this to happen on some level, he would’ve done something about it.”
His words are bad and wrong, you know this, you know Ben loves you, but he sounds so convincing. And it’s impossible to refute his words. Because what if he’s right? What if Ben doesn’t care about you? What if he only cared about what was between your legs, and doing whatever it took to get there? What if he just stuck you in the first open room he could so he could go find some other drunk girl and feel her up, tell her she’s special, give her your Special Ben Smile? The image is too painful to bear, so instead you bury it deep in your vault and turn pleading eyes on Kylo. He cooes to you with a sickening noise, and you're disgusted with yourself to find it actually undoes one of the knots cramping your stomach, a bit of tension melting from your shoulders.
“Such an idiot.” You’re not sure if he’s talking about you or Ben this time, but both answers feel equally as valid. “But it’s okay, baby. Wanna know why?”
He holds your gaze with burning eyes, the words resting just on the tip of his tongue while he waits. Fresh tears spill over your cheeks, burning and damp, getting caught in your eyelashes and slipping into your hair. Slowly, agonizingly, you nod, reaching out for anything to hold onto while your world and everything you know spins behind your eyes.
“Because I want you. I want you, even though you’re inexperienced and naive and pitiful. Even though you follow Ben around like a lost puppy. Even though you know absolutely nothing about anything. Even though you’re blind enough for me to have to do this. If you would’ve just-” Kylo makes a strangled noise, gripping himself firmly through his boxers, a dark stain of gray beading on the charcoal fabric. “If you would’ve just fucking paid attention, we could’ve done this the right way. Could’ve had a nice date, a wonderful dinner, seen some god awful romcom in the theater and laughed about how dumb people in love are. I would’ve had candles and music. I could’ve made your first time special. But no. You ignored me. Kept your eyes trained on Ben. And now we’re here. So who’s fault is that?” He clicks his tongue, his eyes trained on your wet, blushing cheeks, stroking himself with increasing fervor until his frustration reaches a fever pitch.
Your fault.
My fault.
You let Ben string you along.
I let Ben string me along.
You let him convince you he loved you.
I did.
You ignored Kylo.
I did.
Now he feels like he has to go to these lengths to get your attention.
He has it.
Why are you enjoying this?
Because I deserve it.
Self-hatred races through your bloodstream, eviscerating any fight you had left in you as you slump back bonelessly against the mattress. A great sob rumbles in your chest and breaks past your gag, splitting the air with a muffled wail when the tidal wave of emotion sucks you under.
Kylo’s grin is breathtaking. It’s then that he releases your thigh, the rush of blood sending painful tingles all the way to your ankle. His fingers linger on the skin and brush up, up, until he cups your hip in his palm, rolling the flesh between his fingers. A deep, satisfied groan steals from his lips as he watches you squirm in his grasp, ragged breathing lighting a fire in his chest.
“You’ve played with yourself, right?”
A part of you wants to spit at him. To buck him off your hips and bash him over the head with the heavy-looking alarm clock that sits on his nightstand. You don't exactly go about not getting dick on the regular for so long without touching yourself in the meantime. Fucking obviously.
But a bigger part of you, a scarier part, wants to cling to him. The broken, miserable part of yourself that calls you all those terrible names, that tells you it's always been your fault and that you are everything that is wrong with you desperately wants to see a genuine smile break his lips, to hear sweet words from his mouth, for him to tell you that he’s not like everyone else. He won't leave you. He’ll love you, even if you are a blind, naive, pathetic, stupid girl. If you can make him happy, maybe he’ll stay. If you can give him this, release the resistance that sent so many before him running away, the barrier will no longer stand in your way.
“Because I want you.”
It’s nice to feel wanted.
So instead of rebuking him, you give him a soggy nod.
Kylo is thrilled with your answer.
He rewards your willing honesty with a finger rubbing slow circles over your clit. Your entire body jerks, sharp pangs of sweet pleasure ripping up your spine as shame curls in hot over your cheeks and deep in your gut.
It shouldn’t feel this good. Kylo’s touch should be repulsive, should send you shrinking back against the headboard, but instead you cant your hips up to meet his palm, grinding against it with an unexpected fervor, eyes plastered open wide and burning holes into the ceiling, hands jerking against their restraints and rattling the bed frame against the wall.
“Christ, the way you move,” Kylo mutters, forgoing any rhythm in his ministrations to alternate speed and pressure, watching the way you writhe back in his sheets with each upstroke and curl in on yourself on the downstrokes, eyes hungry and searching for more, devouring you whole.
A desperate noise claws its way up your throat, but dies quickly in the face of your now thoroughly drool-soaked panties and ballgag.
“What?” Kylo asks, his hand stilling and his gaze flashing from your heaving chest to your eyes, locked with his and absolutely pleading. As though you hadn’t learned from the first time, you repeat yourself but all that came out was a muffled ‘phuhuhh’ and a frustrated groan.
Annoyance flares in his eyes with a startling ferocity and you shrink back in the pillows, screwing your eyes shut and wishing for all the world you’d just kept your stupid fat mouth shut.
“Oh, baby- no, no,” He rushed to hook a finger into the gag at the corner of your mouth and yanked until your head jerked forward and the metallic snap securing rubber to leather gave way, the rubber ball springing from your mouth as you spat it out. The same finger fished around in your mouth for purchase and snagged the damp waistband of your panties, pulling them from your mouth until they sat wetly in his hands. The pure look of reverence in his eyes as he took in the image of your soaked, crumpled underwear threatened to knock you sideways, and he let loose a breath that rattled his ribcage. “Fuck.”
Kylo shoved them into his back pocket, ensuring that a proud inch or so hung loose over the denim. He wanted people to know. A delicious shiver stole down your spine, scattering your synapses and flooding your head with a haze of delirious desire.
“What did you say, sweet girl?”
And like that, your confidence was dashed. Now that the gag was gone and he’d be able to clearly hear everything you were to say, the words withered in your throat. Wrenching your gaze away absolutely ached, but suddenly you were no longer able to look him in the eye, instead boring a hole into a poster of a beautiful woman splayed across a mustang convertible.
Kylo’s plush, swollen mouth twisted into a dangerous frown, his canines glinting sharp and stark white. His left hand circled your neck again, thumb and index finger squeezing the sides of your throat until you whined, his right coming back to resume the lazy strokes of your clit, taking the time to teasingly dip down to your folds but never where you wanted him- never where you needed it the most.
A low keen slipped between your lips, the adrenaline of having a hand at your throat mingling with shots of electric pleasure straight from your clit to your brain was thick and heady.
Hot breath fanned against your neck when Kylo leaned in to pant against your skin, his teeth finding purchase in your earlobe and tugging in a way that sent your hips jerking into the air, gasping when this dragged his calloused finger directly over your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Answer me when I speak to you.” His voice brokered no room for argument.
“I said- please!” You spit, screwing your eyes shut again and waiting for him to rebuke you, chest trembling. His hand stalled and your heart failed for just a second, skipping a beat before staggering to catch up to its own rhythm.
“Please. What?”
“Jesus, Kylo, please, please don’t make me say it,” you sobbed, your hips searching for his hand on their own accord. Kylo kept out of reach, even going as far as to use the hand that once toyed with your clit to hold your hip in place against the bed. Red hot embarrassment flooded you from head to toe, your blush burning down your collarbone and up over your ears.
He gave a warning squeeze to your throat.
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Kylo-”
“Or should I go get Ben? You’d tell him if he asked. Bring him in and show him how you're tied up in my bed and writhing in my sheets, already begging for me. Are you sure you’re a virgin, little slut?”
“No- no, no, no!” You panicked, eyes blown wide and searching deep into Kylo’s for any hint of a bluff. You met the cold indifference of his poker face with a wail. He cracked a grin, a teasing light flooding into his eyes as he tightened his grasp on your hip.
“No, I shouldn’t go get Ben? Or no, you’re not a virgin?”
“Kylo, please! Just- I can’t wait anymore, just touch me! Put something inside me!”
And then the hunger was back. A breath softer than swan feathers dripped from his lips like honey, pooling right between your legs.
“You sound so sweet when you beg for me, Princess.” Kylo’s fingers danced back to your core, dragging along your folds as anticipation warred with shame within your gut. “It almost makes up for how stupid you are.” He spread his index finger and pinky away from his ring and middle and dipped just past your barrier, a shudder stealing across the tight line of his back as he drank in your kitten whines. Your eyes screwed shut as you tugged against the leather restraint at your wrist, the bedframe creaking in protest. “Almost.”
Probing warmth and clenching fingers dragged against your walls as stars shot from behind your eyes, sick licks of pleasure rippling up your spine as he inched further inside of you, exploring territory no man or woman other than yourself had ever trod. A groan leaked from his throat as his palm hit the flesh of your folds, his fingers fully sheathed within the spasming walls of your blazing cunt.
“Jesus Chirst,” Kylo breathed, his voice raw and heady, “you cannot be real. How the fuck are you so hot and tight, I swear to God I’m about to bust my load just from feeling you.” His words were downright filthy and you were surprised to find the place inside of you that should’ve been humiliated purring at his praise. “I’m going to ruin you.”
And then his fingers were moving, dragging against your walls like they were searching for hidden treasure, pulling in and out not too dissimilarly from the swelling tide of pleasure that washed over your entire body with each minute twitch. Twisted moans that would make a nun combust banged against the back of your teeth and demanded to be set free, but by the clench of your jaw and the aching tightness of your throat, you would not let that happen. Would not give Kylo the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart just from his fingers. You were stronger than that.
Or so you thought. Hot fingerpads grazed against your front wall and fireworks erupted behind your eyes, a gasp and an ear-splitting whine snaking through your molars as you gaped and arched off the sheets.
“Holy shit. Do that again,” Kylo demanded, attacking the spot he’d found with a violent sort of glee as you writhed and whimpered beneath him, your whole body trembling with a vulnerable sort of tension. A calloused thumb, warm and insistent, pushed its way into your mouth and held down your tongue until your moans rang against the bedroom wall, unfiltered by your waning resistance.
Tears pinpricked at the corner of your eyes and Kylo was quick to coo, lean in to swallow you in his shadow, and trail his tongue along the teartracks they cut down your cheek. A rumbled growl tickled your eardrum as your chest heaved with inhale and your ribs shuddered with a repressed sob. “That’s it, that’s perfect, cry for me babygirl.”
So you did. You allowed the tears to fall unbidden while he swiped them away, cradling your cheek as delicately as he would a newborn chick. You nuzzled into the warmth of his hand and breathed hot pants of wrecked whimpers into his palm, tongue wriggling beneath his thumb. Kylo leaned back to watch his fingers sink into you, his eyes glazed over with a possessive intent.
“Look at you, you pitiful little thing. You need someone like me to show you, huh? You don’t have a coherent thought behind those pretty eyes of yours with my fingers inside you, sweet girl. Isn’t that right?”
The only thing your smooth brain could focus on was the tactile sensation of fingers probing from the inside out, hyperfocused on every jolt of pleasure that spasmed from your core. Against all self-preservation, you nodded into his hand.
How long had Kylo been waiting for this moment? The moment when you finally gave in, submitted yourself to him, and accepted the fact that you were his wholly and entirely? He knew you were a virign but fuck, he didn’t expect you do be so goddamned sensitive. Every push and drag of his fingers had you writhing against him, the incessant throbbing of his cock drowned out by the sweet noises of your begrudging pleasure.
“What?” Kylo asked, breathing the word across the ether and into your hypersensitive ears as he blinked out of his momentary trance and pulled his thumb from your mouth.
Had you said something? You wracked your brain for the traitorous syllable that managed to escape but came up utterly empty until his fingers spread to hold you open and you bucked, gasping out a crude, “More!”
Your plea was met with a bewildered laugh and a thumb that curled up to rub the sweetest circles into your clit, showers of sparks threatening to white out the edges of your vision. The wrought iron of his bedframe creaked dangerously as you arched, tugging against your restraints in a shoddy attempt to stay grounded in the wake of overwhelming ecstasy that lapped at your shores until he tightened his wrist and speared you with his fingers and it was all over for you.
Bliss, white-hot and dizzying knocked you sideways as your pants turned into moans that dissolved into hiccuping cries while Kylo rode your through your first ever orgasm at the hands of another, each joint in your body zinging with a crackling energy that surged through your entire nervous system.
Eventually the heaving of your chest brought you back to reality as your back settled against the sheets, feeling utterly boneless and content, your eyelids relaxing from a deathclench to a pleasant rest. A sigh, honeyed and softer than any noise Kylo had ever heard in his life fell from your lips and your wrists relaxed against leather as you basked in the post-orgasmic glow.
For a while, there was nothing. No sensory input could reach you where you drifted, no corporeal body to hold you back, just a soul floating through the inky black of the back of your eyelids, awash in the fresh memories of new experiences.
Here, in this ethereal state, it was blissfully quiet. There was no mean voice to criticize your every move lingering in the back of your head. No insecurities that had wishing you were anywhere else. No worry, no thought, no nothing.
Kylo. He brought you here. He showed you what it could be like, the wash of all encompassing pleasure and the glorifying expanse of nothingness that blacked out every sensation other than tranquil peace. A bloom of gratification petaled into existence in your chest, unfurling across your rib cage and expanding up your throat until your vocal cords vibrated with speech and somewhere back on Earth, you breathed out the smallest “thank you” the world had ever seen.
“Oh, baby,” a rolling baritone answered, cutting through the nebulous black until you slammed back into your body in a jarring transition, fingers flexing uselessly above you. Rough, calloused hands gripped at your hips and dragged them down until your wrists strained against leather and your shoulders stung with tension. “Don’t thank me yet.”
When your eyelids finally peeled open to take in the image of Kylo, cock out and fisted roughly in one hand, the other wrapped around your hip in a deathgrip, his eyes glassy and predatory, a fresh lick of fear crept up your back and ignited a wave of goosebumps across your rapidly chilling skin. Heat blossomed at your core as Kylo pressed the head of his cock against your folds and your left leg gave a futile kick. He was big. Like, big, big, bigger than any of the few toys you’d played with before and your head reared against the pillows, a terrified whimper eeking out from your throat. It was going to hurt, and in the moment the impending pain outweighed everything else.
“Kylo, no, please, wait-”
“I’m done waiting.” Finality radiated from his voice and your chest shuddered with a fresh wave of sobs as your teeth chattered together, your body feeling the utter drain of intoxication, soberance, terror, come up, and come down all at once as you sank deeper into the sheets and flitted around dreadful acceptance.
Kylo groaned as defiance melted away to submission in your eyes, his fist drawing a rough path up the shaft of his cock as it nudged insistently against your entrance.
“Jesus, you’re fucking wet, huh?” He asked with a prideful grin as mortification drained the color in your cheeks. “You know what that means? It means you want this. You can’t hide it from me, little girl, and you can’t hide it from yourself either.”
And he wasn’t wrong. A part of you did want it, a part of you that had been hidden safely away under lock and key until Kylo tracked it down, ripped the door from the hinges, and took it hostage as if it had belonged to him in the first place.
Silence hung in the air like iron curtains as heavy hips pressed you further into the mattress, the head of his cock swiping across your folds to gather your own wetness as lubrication.
The first shallow thrust of his hips knocked the air from your lungs in a wail of a squeak, your entire body seizing up at once as every fiber of your muscle rebuked the intruder within your walls. Kylo let out a sharp hiss and retracted, the drag of his cockhead on the tightness of your entrance sending your back arching skyward as another whimper crawled its way out from your throat. The crushing grip on your hip finally relented, skin springing back into place as he snaked his hand to rest his palm against your cheek.
“You need to relax for me, Princess.” The length of his dick rested hot and heavy against your cunt, soft thrusts probing against your clit and spiking your breath with every gentle nudge. Kylo’s spine curled once more to press his forehead to yours, noses slotting against one another as his breath fanned hot across your face. “You’re so pretty when you come babygirl, remember how nice my fingers felt? Remember how well you took them? You’re going to love this, I promise. You need to get out of your own head and let me in. Let me take care of you, sweet girl. Just let me in.”
Honorifics and praise swirled around your panicked mind, tugging at the knot of apprehension that kept your muscles so stiff. Slowly, achingly, your body relaxed, back shrugging back onto the mattress and nose nuzzling against his in compliance. The vibrations of Kylo’s chest rumbling at your submissive gesture curled deliciously in your tummy as the pad of his thumb swiped across your cheekbone. Your eyelids fluttered to a close and you nodded, willing your thighs to fall open and giving yourself over.
Kylo’s warm hand retracted from your face and you mourned the loss for only a moment before the head of his cock was once more pushing against the entrance of your core. Your fingers flexed uselessly, searching for anything to grab onto before they found the leather of his belt once more and gripped until your knuckles turned white, willing the muscles in your lower body to relax until he slipped inside properly for the first time.
Kylo’s gasp echoed your own as your walls fluttered around his cock, pleasure like a lance shooting through your stomach and twisting the breath in your ribcage. He groaned low and sweet, something primal within him awakening the part of you that wanted to hear that noise again. Your hips moved with a mind of their own, twitching forward and pulling him in further until the entirety of his head was sheathed within your hot cunt, a delicious stretch edging out the pain until only ripples of pleasure reverberated through your entire body. Kylo sucked in a sharp breath and anchored his hand to your hips, locking you in place with another half-broken groan.
“Oh my God,” He breathed, burying his head into the crook of your neck and panting against the sensitive skin. “Don’t move, don’t fucking move, you feel so fucking good. How are you so tight- Christ, baby, if you keep clenching around me like that I won't be able to hold back.”
Oh. It seemed so obvious, the thought emerging from the scrambled fog of your mindscape. He was holding back. He didn’t actually want to hurt you. He really did want you to enjoy this. A spark of affection flickered to life within your lungs, taking up too much room for your breath, which came shallow and too thin to clear your head.
Time warped as he held himself taut, allowing you to relax around his intrusion before he slipped further within you, lighting up new places within you that you never knew existed until the veins of his cock dragged against them. A mewl, small and pitiful, slipped past your lips as you buried your nose in his hair, inhaling the heady scent of him and pulling a broken groan from his throat in return.
It felt like an eternity before he bottomed out, the entirety of his length buried to the hilt within you, his hips pressing flush against yours as your chest arched up into his, needy, pathetic whimpers painting his bedroom walls. Strong, steady arms came to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into him until every inch of your body was as close to his as physically possible, the heat emanating from both of you was stifling as you panted against each other. The stillness of the moment was absolutely unbearable, your hips fighting for room to move and finding none, until you tugged on your restraints hard enough to loosen half an inch of give and managed to grit out a simple, “Please.”
Kylo’s restraint evaporated into the swell of your breath. His hips pulled back and snapped into place, knocking against your cervix and drawing a delicious yelp from deep within your chest as your entire body came to life beneath him, your mind succumbing to the haze of lust and intimacy, as if the loss of your virginity meant the awakening of the part of yourself that you’d held dormant by force for so long.
Sweat dripped down your temple, whether it was yours or Kylo’s, neither of you could say. With no small amount of effort, Kylo peeled himself off of you and sat back on his heels, his hands skimming down your body until they landed on your hips, his thumbs moving to spread you apart so he could see for himself just how prettily you took him in.
“Fuck,” He cursed, low and heady, drawing your eyes open to drink in his appearance. The lightest dusting of red in the moonlight danced across his cheeks and traveled down to his collarbone, his skin shining with a sheen of sweat. His eyes- oh god, his eyes. They were wild and manic, reverence dripping from every pore in his face. You watched with bated breath as he stilled and drew his left hand up to press against your stomach, as if he could feel his cock buried within beneath the layers of tissue and organ.
His gaze raked like coals up your body, leaving a tangible trail of fire in its wake as he locked eyes with yours and let out another animalistic rumble. What a picture you made: glistening with sweat, eyes full of submission and unadulterated lust, body responding to every minute movement of his own, muscles trembling beneath his hulking frame as he pinned you to the mattress and speared you open.
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
Your mouth opened to respond but all that fell out was a wicked moan, a noise you’d never made before but felt utterly right in your mouth, your walls fluttering erratically around him as your eyes rolled back in your head.
His hips withdrew, every inch of him dragging against you as your own fought to chase after him and your shoulders screamed against their restraint. Panicked whimpers fled from your lungs- he couldn’t leave now, not when it felt so good, not when he had you wrapped around his finger. What legible thoughts you were able to conjure screamed one simple truth at you: if he left you empty and pleading, it would wreck you.
Your arms moved of their own accord, fighting against the belt until something in your wrist popped and drew a pained yelp from between your teeth.
Kylo laughed at your shameless display, something dark and terrible, and continued until the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance once more. “Don’t worry, sweetness. I’m not going anywhere.” And then he snapped his hips forwards, driving himself halfway into your weeping cunt and eliciting the lewdest noise you’d ever heard from your lips as stars shot from behind your eyes, something warped between a cry and a moan freed from the prison inside of you. The fire was all-consuming, pain and pleasure leaking together until white crept into the edge of your vision as he pistoned the rest of the way in, absolutely enraptured by the sight of your cunt taking him in.
“Taking cock for the first time and already head over heels for it, are we? Oh, my sweet girl. We’re going to have so much fun.” That was all the warning you got before the box spring groaned under his shifting weight, one hand coming to wrap both your wrists and pin them to the bed, the other moving to support his weight somewhere off by your shoulder. His next thrust was followed by another in quick succession as his hips picked up pace, setting a brutal rhythm as he fucked you into the mattress. A melody of noises rang clear through the still air of the bedroom: the high soprano of your whimpering moans countered in measure by the baritone rolling of his own, punctuated in time by the staccato noises of skin slapping against skin and the wet squelch of sex.
“That’s it, babygirl, that’s it, fuck, you take my cock so fucking well- look at me, baby. Look at me.” His voice brokered no room for argument and your eyes scanned the room wildly before they landed on his, locking with an electric tension as you writhed against his sheets. Kylo leaned in close and hissed between clenched teeth, “Ben could never make you feel this good.”
Time froze. A millisecond stretched into eternity as his words sunk in, past the lust, past the pleasure, past the monster inside of you that rose to meet his own.
Ben.
This was a betrayal. You loved Ben so much, and yet here you were, fucking his own brother in his own home. You’d asked him for this. The broken sound clip of your “please” echoed in your head like cannon fire as a fresh wave of sobs wracked through your chest. The demon that terrorized you with the iron-fist of insecurities reared its head full force, chiming in with every stroke of Kylo’s cock as he punctured deep within you, somewhere Ben would never reach. Kylo paid no heed to your emotional shift, only nudging your thighs with his knees to open you up for deeper, punishing thrusts.
“That’s it, cry for me.”
You miserable sack of shit.
“Oh, my perfect girl”
Terrible waste of space.
“God, you’re beautiful.”
No one could ever love you.
“The way you move, fuck.”
Everyone will leave you.
“Christ, sweet girl, sweet thing, that’s it.”
This is what you’re good for.
“You’re so perfect- it’s like you were made for me.”
This is what you deserve.
You were rending in two, splitting between the hate-spewing internal monologue and his whiskey-sweet praises, each half of you refusing to give to the other as you fought tooth and nail to rise to above it all, to retain the essence of you, rather than let it slip to one side or another. You were losing yourself and you knew intrinsically that the victor would claim you for good.
Kylo’s grip released your hands to travel down to your folds, swiping up the middle until he landed on your clit and you shrieked, TV static fizzling across your vision and chasing the thoughts from your head as you arched into him. The shock of movement gave you another inch of give from the worn belt and your wrists sprung free, arms flying down to lock around his neck and pull you closer to him, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders as he came crashing down to bodily pin you to the bed. The momentum drove him against your cervix and you sobbed into his neck, chasing the blinding pleasure and running from the thoughts that threatened to pull you under.
Only this could make them go away.
Only Kylo could get the flood to stop.
“Fuck me harder,” you begged, the trembling in your muscles doubling as you faced the fear of yourself.
Kylo let loose a growl that shook the bedframe and pulled out to flip you over, strong hands manipulating your limbs until he had your hips propped up and your face pressed into the pillows, cock sliding home once more.
“There’s my good girl.”
This new angle opened up a fresh stream of white-hot pleasure, his fingers returning to rub small, tight circles into your clit as you spasmed against him, crying out into the plush of pillow and stringing together half-pleas and half-moans as he brutalized your cunt.
“Who’s making you feel this good?” Kylo grunted between thrusts, pulling nearly all the way out and bottoming all the way in with each movement of his hips. Your empty cries were not enough of an answer, his fingers drawing painfully slow strokes on the flesh around your clit in punishment.
“You are! You, Kylo, it’s you!” You managed, hiccuping sobs ricocheting off his bedroom walls. He rewarded you with a pinch to your clit, every synapse in your brain lighting up at once as you buried a twisted shirek into the mattress, fists balling into the sheets.
“That’s it, Princess, come all over my cock. Come for me sweet girl, my good girl.”
Your core tightened in response, already attuned to the sound of his voice, until it felt like your entire body would come apart at the seams with the tension building within. The litany of pleasure crescendoed to a boiling point with each snap of his hips taking you higher, higher, until you were face-to-face with the precipice, so close to tumbling over the edge.
And yet, a still, small part of you fought tooth and nail to back away from the brink. It refused to let you get any closer, seizing your muscles and refusing to give in. You howled against it and thrashed into the sheets, agonized in this endless purgatory of too-much and not-enough. Behind your shoulder, Kylo let loose a feral growl as he sensed this lingering resistance.
“I said,” He leaned in until his chest was plastered to your back, the rumble of his growl feeding directly into your ear, “come.”
Teeth like daggers sunk into the tender junction where neck met shoulder, the flesh giving way to his canines as you cried out- the last remaining thread connecting you to yourself gave way as you tumbled headfirst over the edge, your head rocking back on your neck as you cried out to the heavens.
Pleasure, hot and white and overwhelming licked at every inch of your body, inside and out, as the flames of ecstasy consumed you whole. They stole your hearing first, clarity giving way to a buzz of creaking bed springs and far-off wails. Your vision went next, whiting out until only splotches of reality remained and the room spun around you. It took your tactile sensation then, your body lost to the onslaught of sensations.
Truly and irrefutably, no part of you was left unconquered. The fire razed you whole, searing your nerves and leaving nothing unmarred, until your body slumped bonelessly against the grip at your hips, floating through an ether of thoughtless bliss.
The rocking continued without your presence, your eyes fluttering to a close as you allowed your body to be manipulated, until it stilled at once and a fresh wave of fire spilled within you, painting your insides with a load of heat that had you toppling into earth-shaking aftershocks.
You came down slowly, begrudgingly, as you felt your body slide limply against the silken sheets. A groan stole from your lips, something wet and sticky dribbling from between your legs as your brain struggled to rebuild neural connections, as if there were a lag in processing time while it filed away these new sensations and realizations.
Kylo’s shadow stole over your body as he leaned over, rooting around in the nightstand until he pulled away and flopped next to you in the bed, the telltale sound of a lighter sparking into existence. He puffed once, twice, then let out an exhale as a sickly-sweet cherry tobacco scent perforated your senses. You groaned, low and weak, and he chuckled, his hand coming to wrap around your jaw and pull you up to face him. Slowly, you blinked back into consciousness, just in time to catch his lips as they met yours, his lungs contracting as he forced the smoke of a cherry clove into your own.
You coughed and sputtered on the inhale, pulling away to bury your face into your elbow as your entire body convulsed. Kylo let out one last laugh, thoroughly amused by your reaction, and stood from the bed to examine the state of his belt with a click of his tongue.
“You’re stronger than you look, sweet girl. Next time I’ll have to use actual restraints.”
Next time?
Exhaustion tugged at the corners of your consciousness, your body collapsing into a boneless heap.
Next time.
