sololoquy | open post

[ Something almost fearful flutters in her stomach as he pins one of her hands overhead. She allows him, all the same. A timorous form of trust, extended gradually. The ensuing vulnerability prickles her the back of her neck. Her breath comes shorter, even as she relaxes incrementally to let him deeper, the distraction of his mouth on hers and his fingers at her breast allowing for it.

This continues until, with a whine, she starts to rock her hips with his. It starts with a squirming. A minute back-and-forth, micro-movements which ease the stretch and glide of his gradual thrust. But then he is seated within her, and Rey is left breathless, amazed that he has fit after all, but also quickly realizing that stillness is the enemy of her arousal.

She needs friction.

Coiling her legs around him, Rey tries to seize some kind of control, nudge him forward. She doesn't know how to give the reins over to him entirely. If she's not moving, if she's not doing, then she'll get bogged down in all of the things that Rey tries so hard not to slow down long enough to think about. That's the fear, at least, which drives her instincts. She tries to rock back and forth along him, but she can't get much wiggle room. Not pinned under his weight. Not with such a thin and unforgiving mattress.

The nature of their joining demands she actually speak instead of just acting. It's probably good for her. But it's uncomfortable and foreign. ]

Do you want to move? [ She hedges behind soliciting him for that. ] You can. [ She's red in the face. A fraction of it is embarrassment, but mostly it's arousal. She tries again. ] I want you to. [ Anxiety has started to tremble at the boundaries of her mind, the urgent hope that it be good for him too as the pain starts to lessen. ]

Move?

[He is moving. He doesn't understand. There's a look in his face that says it, even if not for his confusion on the other side of the bond. But it only takes a second of breathing and another pointed thrust for him to key in on the problem.

He is too big, but not in the way they had feared. She can't help with him pinned beneath him like this. And for a moment, he perhaps makes it worse, hesitating in trying to figure out a solution before he starts to pull back moving his hands to instead reach down for her. He does not pull out entirely -- truthfully, he feels something uncomfortable when he does, like their bodies aren't quite ready for the separation, and it ramps up his anxiety.

But then Kylo Ren sits and rests Rey on top of him, his own thighs now pressed into the mattress. It's not entirely comfortable, and he has to shift to make sure he isn't sitting on his balls, but he is hoping it will give Rey the room to move that she needs.]

Is--this better?

[ They don't really know what they're doing, either of them.

If it weren't readily apparent, it is now, when even the bond has failed to clarify what either of them needs from one another. A faint hint of shame rises at that, but it doesn't last. Ultimately it doesn't matter — the shift over his lap spreads her hips open in a way that eases him in deeper, makes the slide easier, and Rey's breath shudders out of her, eyelids drooping. The discomfort fades away, and it feels good. Blissful, whole, transcendent. All the ways it's supposed to feel.

So even if it hadn't been what she intended, she gives a nod anyway. This will work. ]

Yeah. [ Breathless, reedy, it comes out as if she's rallying herself, and then she manages to brace herself on either side of him, begins to rock her hips in gentle yet awkward movements. Slow at first, and uneven, inexpert, she nonetheless finds herself short of breath, a satisfied noise spilling out. ] Feels good.

[ He'd asked. Now she can give him a good answer, one that isn't discouraging or declaring failure too early. Her voice sounds thick and unfamiliar, even to her own mind. ] Full. [ The cramped space feels hotter, damper for their sweat, as she resolutely rocks onto him. ]

[Kylo's hands slowly move to grasp at her hips, assisting her in rocking over him at an angle he enjoys. He tries once or twice to rock himself into her, but the positioning simply doesn't work for it. She will no doubt feel his frustration building at the other end along with the pleasure -- when it crests, he shifts on his knees to allow one sharp thrust upward that takes the breath out of his lungs.

Afterward, he presses his forehead to her collarbone and pants softly, slick with sweat. He mumbles nonsensically against her skin, mouthing desperately until his teeth join the effort.]

Good.

[He echoes her, but groans when that feeling doesn't immediately return.]

Rey, it's--so good. More. Please.

[ The sudden stab as he lurches upward, burrowing deep into her, jolts Rey to dig her nails into his shoulders as she holds tighter to him, seeking support against the force of it. Her whimper is like an aftershock, as is the dull throb deep inside of her, in the dark space he'd burrowed to.

More, he appeals, but she hardly knows how to give it.

Except that she can feel his satisfaction pouring over into her like an overfull cup, bleeding at the edges of the bond, and she seizes upon that. Again she makes an attempt to slip one hand between them, the other hooked around the back of his neck to steady her while she moves. Her fingertips search out her clit, a gentle brush, something to rock against with each downswing of her hips as she tries to set a steadier rhythm at the angle he settles her at, which is awkward and unfamiliar.

Like before, she can feel how her body squeezes around him, the stimulation driving her muscles to clench, compressing tighter and tighter like a spring ready to pop. The pain is gone this time. The angle better, her body more relaxed, more prepared to accept him. ]

Do you feel that? [ She asks against his temple, burying her nose against his sweat-soaked hair. ]

[His grip on her tightens when she finds that rhythm, eyelids drifting shut while he tries to bury himself in the feeling it provides him. His breathing turns deep and heavy, his head rolling to rest against her's while she buries herself in his now tangled black hair.]

Yes.

[It starts as one word, breathed out like an afterthought. And then he starts to repeat himself every time she comes down on the proper angle until the words melt into groans and his muscles contract with effort. When he finds a moment to relax, he is practically boneless, and yet every few seconds, he will predictably tighten like a wound spring without fail.

The periods between the two grow shorter by the second. Something is building, but it feels -- too soon.]

Rey--

[She must feel it. He doesn't want to tell her to stop -- but he doesn't want it to be over either.]

Not yet. [ She's begging him, even as her body constricts around him. ] I'm not ready.

[ But her pleas are pointless even before they leave her lips. He's not the only one fighting against his own pending climax. Rey tries to push back against it, tries to draw that satisfaction out longer. When it's over, when they're lying in a heap together, will he regret it? Will he hate her again? Will he turn his back, like he did before? There's no way of knowing. Only this moment, and she's desperate to stay in it.

It can't last, of course. Or more to the point, she can't last. Rey crumbles, comes apart violently in a series of shuddering spasms which twitch through her shoulders. Her muscles pulse around the intrusion of his cock, a wild and rapid seizing that verges on painful. But she tries to keep moving through it, to savor that feeling. Her fingers can't coax anything else from her clit; it's too sensitive to touch, but clutching at his ribs gives her better leverage to keep moving her hips.

To ride out the feeling, clinging to him, gasping. ]

[He loses the ability to hold himself upright when her muscles clench around him, though he desperately tries to hug her close to him, digging his nails into her spine. When he collapses back, she is dragged with him, and his hips jerk one last time as his back hits the mattress. Kylo Ren's breath comes in a soft wheeze when his spend finally stops flowing, his eyes fluttering shut in a moment of vertigo.

But when he opens them again and finds himself staring at Rey, also spent and looking used, he gropes upward for her neck to try and coax her down to his mouth, as if that will somehow keep the momentum going in spite of their exhaustion.]

[ The warm red swell of his lips welcomes her back in, stealing her breath before she can properly catch it. Her legs catch under her, stiff and bent and keeping her crouched atop him instead of comfortably sprawled. It takes several moments of loose, aimless kissing to gather the energy to press her heels downward, to stretch out across him, careful to keep him inside of her as she shifts.

She isn't ready to separate. He's too precious.

Whining, Rey even ruts against him then, searching for something more. She should be sated. Her body is worn out, leg muscles grateful for the reprieve of extension, for respite from the steady flexion of riding him. But it's her chest that tightens, still, bottomless in its hunger for that connection. Desperate to savor the closeness she has with him.

So her teeth scrape lazily at his lip, and her sweaty body continues to writhe ambiently against his, lethargic but intent. The inevitable result, of course, is that he slips out, making a sloppy, slippery messy of them both. ]

[He makes a startled sound against her lips when she slides off of him, and there's a moment where he stiffens when he feels their bodies slide together as what is left over from their coupling smears around their hips and thighs. He can't quite decide what to do with it, and it results in a full body pause --

But, in an uncharacteristic display, Kylo Ren reaches between them to slide his hand across the nest of hair between Rey's legs, curiously probing despite the over-sensitivity he can feel on the opposite end of the bond. Once his fingers are generously coated, he drags them back up, purposefully catching one of her nipples as he goes.

Once his hand is close to their faces, he breaks the kiss to observe the viscous mixture of their fluids in an almost studious manner. And then, in a moment of daring, he lets one pass between his lips. The taste isn't quite what he expects -- but its also not something he'd actively pursue again without proper motivation.]

Thank you.

[ Watching him suck their fluids off his finger stirs her unexpectedly. Watching him savor this, she's less afraid of what might come next. She turns her head. The sticky mixture of his spend and hers has coated two of his fingers, and he has only cleaned one. She cleans the other now: a lewd, indulgent lap of her tongue. The taste is incomparable. Tangy and bitter. It tastes like communion, and makes her feel light. Then she kisses him, her tongue pressing into his mouth. So she can taste it on his lips and he on hers. ]

For what? [ She asks finally, when the kiss breaks. and her forehead is pressed against to his temple, her nose crushed against his cheek with the effort of drawing closer. In the absence of his erection, she's taking every chance she can get.

For the life of her, she can't figure out what he'd offer her gratitude for. Not when this was as much for her as him. If anything, she feels thankful--that he has finally made it possible for her to have this, when she had feared losing it. And now they're lingering in it together, rather than flinching away. ]

[When she asks him that question, he suddenly feels foolish for having vocalized his gratitude. After all, she hadn't really forgiven him for his prior reactions -- not really. It had simply been automatic, expected, even when he knew that he was the one keeping this from her. Anxiety grips his chest for being caught out on his reflex, teeth subconsciously sinking into his lip. His heart starts to beat faster.

But he has to say something, so he offers the truth.]

For permitting -- [No, that's not quite right. What was it that he was afraid of again?] -- you could have refused me. I thought you might. To teach me.

[Because that's how he's always learned, any time he happened to learn.]

[ To teach him?

She wonders at it for a moment, picks at the feeling of his anxiety in the bond. She can feel his heart pounding out of sync with hers. Not an athletic rhythm—a fearful one. She kisses him again. This time, it's urgent, trying to salvage the calm, to assuage, this one is soft.

She chases it along his jaw. ]

I didn't want to. [ Refuse him, that is. It makes the whole thing sound very simple, even though it's not at all. He'd apologized. He'd declared an intention to do better without making excuses for himself. These things matter. ] I want you to hold onto me instead of your fear.

[ The honesty of it burns her. It gives him the power to turn away from her again, to be left behind. But he's promised her that she's important to him. Over and over again, he has tried to insist it. It is only fair she should let him prove it. ]

[The distraction works wonders to calm him. He is not unlike a child in that way — so blindly seeking validation and acceptance that he leans into what is offered with his whole body. And he does as he is bid, but not for leaning down to clean her chest of the fluid he had left there. He leaves behind a light mark of his teeth upon her breast before leaning back down, wrapping his large arms aroubd hwr to press her body against his.

He has to wriggle his hips some to keep her from crushing his softening cock, now nestled just a few inches below her ruined cunt.]

I know. Sometimes, I am not sure that matters.

[One hand reaches up to comb through her hair.]

I was...taught that sometimes, that is the only way to learn.

[ Her pleasure flutters across the bond, shared with him. It's not just the sensation itself of his teeth and tongue exploring her sensitive breast, but the attention itself, and what it signifies. Rey makes quiet, satisfied sounds in answer, letting her eyes drift shut. This is the Ben Solo she sees, has always seen. Attentive. Curious. Needy and vulnerable too, yes.

She leans her head into his hand, savoring the soft scrape of his nails against her scalp as he carves a clean path through the tangled, sweaty mess of her hair. It tugs. She isn't discouraged, nor does she stop him. ]

I prefer this way of learning. [ Shamelessly put. She settles her head down against his chest then, near the shoulder. And she reaches up with one hand to trace the slope of his neck down over his collarbone and over the curve of his deltoid, idly, possessively. Like she's appraising her newly acquired property. ]

[He hums softly into her scalp, taking to breathing deeply until they are in sync with one another.]

I think I do too.

[One of his own large hand begins a quest down her back slow, and adding nails as he goes.]

...punishment isn't always so bad, you know. It can be a good teacher.

[ Like a contented cat, Rey answers the scratch of his nails with some stretching, though she's careful not to crush any of his soft bits as her hips shift with it. The bond, at least, had communicated his caution. Relaxed and growing gradually sleepier, she offers her most honest answer first: ]

I don't want to punish you, Ben.

[ Because she doesn't. That's of no interest to her. She wants him to improve; she doesn't take joy in the process to get there. But something nags at the edge of her awareness, that maybe it's not what he means, and her eyes open back up. The bond prickles with her heightened scrutiny. Like she's waking back up. ]

Do you ... ? [ She isn't sure which question to ask: does he want her to, or does he want to be the arbiter of it? He had, after all, offered to teach her a number of times, and apparently this was his method. ]

[Kylo Ren wets his lips, dodging the look she gives him when she asks. The shame goes to the tips of his ears, turning them red. She doesn't need to say it -- even if they hadn't just had sex, the bond is open between them. He can understand that she doesn't know which question to ask. Fortunately, the answer to both is the same.]

Only...if you wanted to try.

[But something is already stirring in his belly. She will no doubt feel him getting warm with it again.]

[ This, certainly, is what Poe and Loki and Finn and Keith would call twisted. But Rey watches his tongue press out, watches the color reach his ears where sweat has mussed his hair away from them. The uptick of his heart as his blood warms with the insinuation.

On its own the notion holds some appeal. But more than anything else, she responds to the vulnerability he exposes in offering this. He isn't afraid of her anymore. At least, he isn't afraid of revealing himself to her. His wants and needs. Something clenches and releases inside of her. ]

Teach me.

[ Her mouth feels a little dry. She wants to give this to him in whatever way he needs it. But she needs a guiding hand, first. ]

[That answer surprises him some. He pushes her upwards off of his chest so that he can look her in the eyes. His ears are still red. It's moved to the high points of his cheekbones. His pupils are blown again, and he is searching her.

She had said she didn't want to. But she was offering.]

Are you sure? You--we don't have to.

[The anxiety comes back. It is not as strong as before, but he knows well of what Rey thinks of Kylo Ren and Ben Solo.]

I'm sure.

[ Stubbornly put, with just a hint of panic as she sits up more fully on him, feeling rebuffed by the space he puts between them. He's reddening, and she can feel the hunger opening up in him, chasing the offer, but instead of succumbing to it, he's — He's trying to give her a way out.

Rey's frown deepens. ]

Stop that. [ 'Just stop being anxious,' Rey says convincingly, curing all of Kylo Ren's mental illnesses with the power of gumption and her light side vagina. ] I said I want to try. [ He'd shared something with her, here. She doesn't intend to let it flounder and die. And anyway, it would be a lie to say that the prospect didn't excite her on its own. Something rough and firm. It's just unfamiliar. ]

I've never -- I don't know what I'm doing. [ That's all. All of her punishments have been natural consequences or from Unkar Plutt's closed fist. ] Show me. [ She doubles down: ] Punish me. [ Then, maybe she would know what to try to extend to him. ]

[This would be a good instruction. The way she issues that command makes something in his cock twitch. She would be a natural at this, if he steered her the right way. But now that he's been tasked with it--

It feels wrong to want to pursue it this way. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to get it. But it involves something Ben Solo isn't capable of. Something that Kylo Ren is.

And as much as he argues that they are the same person, a part of him must switch off to allow that sort of engagement.

Stop that, echoes in his head again, and the switch flicks off. But not before he kisses her one last time.]

Alright.

[It takes considerable effort to gather his strength to lift her off of him so that he can sit up. There is a bass quality to his voice that had not been there previously.]

Get on your knees. Here.

[He swings his legs over the side of the bed, spreading his legs and pointing between them. As much as he knows what he wants, this is not something he has done before either, and he does not know how to prepare her. So he just launches into what first comes to his mind.]

[ Rey savors that kiss. Its gentleness. Its warmth. He gives it willingly, and so easily now. She's still getting used to that, to the idea that she wouldn't need to ply every intimacy out of him. So she lingers in it too long even after he moves her aside to shift his own position. She sprawls out as if he were still there, sucking on her lower lip and humming under her breath.

Then, the sound of his voice makes her body tense, and her eyes snap open. She would be a fool to miss the shift in him. She is twice the fool, because somehow the implicit danger it suggests excites her. ]

Here?

[ She slides off the edge of the bed fully, settling on her knees in front of him, her hands planted on his bare thighs. The grip provides a steadiness which offsets only some of the strain of her muscles, which are still weak from working in this position to ride him. The fatigue has set in, making her own thighs tremble with the effort of holding her at certain angles of flexion.

A thin undercurrent of fear runs through her. Will it hurt? Will he be cruel? Will he stop, if she asks it? She chooses to set them all aside and trust him, and that alone feels good. Unfamiliar, difficult, but relieving. ]

That's right.

[Kylo Ren has to take a moment and assess his own fatigue. He can feel a heavy weight in his back that needs addressing, and the bones of his hips feel oddly numb now that he's sitting upright. So he is forced to lean on one hand some, pushing his long, sweat soaked black hair out of his eyes with the other so that he can watch her.]

We're not going to get very far like this.

[One hand slides up to his cock, purposefully pulling it upward into his hand to offer its length to her.]

Go on. Take it. In your mouth.

[Hopefully it won't be too obvious that he is feeling this out as he goes.]

[ She can see the evidence of their coupling slick and sticky along his cock and his hand as he holds himself, urging her to it. Reaching out, she slips her hand up over the shaft to replace his, taking him in her grip. He's not as solid as he was. Smaller, too. But she isn't dissuaded by it. In fact, ]

This is your idea of punishment?

[ Offered gently, with the warmth of good humor and a sly eagerness that she has made little effort to disguise. It would not surprise her to know that Ben had not realized, somehow, that she would gladly do this for him. That she would savor the taste of his skin and the sounds and expressions that he made.

To further her point, she sets promptly about her obvious task. She starts with her tongue, laving up the side of him, lapping away the bitter traces of their cum. This she does to the tune of satisfied noises, like she is grateful for the taste. When she has made passable work of that, she does close her lips around the head. But dehydration makes her lips somewhat dry, and it takes some deliberate slurping at his skin to work up enough slick that she can take more of him in. ]

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