Kylo Ren, the fearsome leader of the Knights of Ren, crouches, poised between your legs. One hand pressed into the tender flesh of your thigh, the other tangled in the folds of your skirt, which has since been pushed up to your waist.
The two of you have been like that for several days. Things were becoming very hot and quite heavy when your writer was seized with an acute case of Writer’s Block and abandoned you. Arousal has given over to tedium as you both wait. You twitch your nose, partly in irritation and partly to stave off the itch building there.
Kylo’s once lustrous hair has become dull and flat. You watch as he rolls his head onto his shoulder. “Neck cramp?” you ask. He nods and you frown in sympathy. It hasn’t been comfortable for either of you
You both jump at a sudden sound. “Is she…” Kylo asks, “She opening the document!” Your head lifts off the pillow in anticipation. Finally some action! You both wait. “Just editing.” Kylo’s voice is hollow as he moves his hand a quarter inch to the left, fingers still splayed on your inner thigh.
Disappointment and frustration wash over you as you allow your head to fall back onto the pillow. “Can you cover me a little bit?” you whisper. “I’m freezing.” Kylo obliges, reaching up and flicking the fabric of your shirt across your bare breasts, fabric that he, himself had unbuttoned nearly a week earlier as he pressed kisses into your flesh. “It can’t last forever, my love,” he tells you, giving your stomach a reassuring pat. “She’ll find her muse again.”
You squirm on the bed, trying in vain to find some level of comfort. “I certainly hope so,” you sigh. “You know I love you, but I’m getting very tired of looking at the top of your head.”
He looks up at you and levels you with a stare, a hint of a smirk teasing his full lips. “I can see up your nose.”
“Shut up!” you gasp, nudging him with your knee and knocking him off balance. You can feel him smile as he hides his face in your thigh. Together, the two of you wait.
