A/N: Shameless

RATING: M

SUMMARY: Things get naughty on Ahch-To. This one-shot was written before the release of TLJ.

ELEMENTS/TRIGGER WARNINGS: shameless smut tease

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Isn't this always how it ends? She finds him in the night, grasping at rough fabric, sharp ridges, pent up rage defined in broad shoulders and taut muscles. Glittering eyes like velvet ash quickened by hard embers.

Where did it begin? Perhaps in between the savage heartbeats as they clashed. Maybe sooner. Maybe the moment his hulking silhouette found her in the green and sunlight, breathless and invasive—a beast cloaked in violence with a fiery blade at her cheek.

How dare he.

Rey touches his face, scraping her nails over his scar, marking him again. His growl is immediate, low and forbidden, the seductive touch of dark earth, the vulgar scratch of thorns. He tastes like bitter heat, all musk and agitation as his lips slant over hers, suckling as if a child starved. She indulges him only to tattoo his lower lip with her teeth, a surprised grunt vibrating from his throat.

His fingers clasp over her wrists, yanking them above her head and whirling her around, her back pressing to his chest. She plants her feet to pivot again, but his other hand stops her, fingers digging possessively into her hip. The sensation drives the heat from below her navel down through her thighs and she squeezes her legs together, mouth thinning to a defiant line.

His breath tickles her shoulder, her neck; then, a devilish flick of tongue just below her earlobe. "Always so willful."

Her teeth snap shut, begging for his skin to bruise.

The hot pads of his fingertips glide under her shirt, arousing a hitch in her breath, and she wriggles against him. She can hurt him, easily end this game with one swift backwards kick, though she won't. She'd rather bite and claw and mark him until he remembers exactly who it is he belongs to.

A hungry moan falls from her lips when his hand closes around her breast. He nibbles at her neck in the most delicious rhythm of teeth and tongue as he works his fingers over her nipple, teasing until it aches to the touch. She pushes into him, forcing him back a step and he releases her hands to take her other hip.

She bows forward as he jerks her into him and he takes the advantage, lifting her shirt up to her shoulders and raking kisses along her back. The cold of the rock sends an exquisite chill down her spine from her breasts and she arches forward, throwing her head back and angling her bum against him.

His own breath hitches and she can feel him growing feverish under all that black. She glances at him over her shoulder and his nostrils flare, eyes half-lidden with need and mouth parted over gritted teeth. Those lips—shamefully evocative of his most secret wants.

They always give him away.

She stands, letting her shirt drape back over her chest, and sliding her hands down his hips, firm and unrelenting at his thighs as she pulls him into her. He leans forward, inhaling her hair, her neck. If he wants to take her this way, he'll have to fight her for it.

With a single spin of her heel, she knocks him off balance and they are on the ground, her legs bracketing his waist. He exhales a pained huff and glares daggers up at her. She hikes an eyebrow at him in turn, rolling her tongue over her canines as she rotates her hips, daring beyond measure when it comes to driving him into madness. If nowhere else—the edge of sanity brings out the darkness in her.

With a flick of her wrists, his arms anchor above his head, pinned by her will alone. He blows a wisp of hair from his forehead, gaze whetted to black steel. She surveys him languidly, her hands trailing fire down his neck and chest. He should really reconsider wearing all these layers.

Kylo's teeth click shut, a snarl forming his mouth as he reads her thoughts.

She grins, tilting her head thoughtfully and pressing her tongue to her cheek. She remembers how it was the first time they made love, raining and wild in the lightning as she shivered against him. She'd been unsure then, as unsure as he was.

But not anymore.

She begins with her hair, releasing the buns slowly, torturously. He watches, his mouth a hard line of anticipation and the tendons in his neck drawn stiff. She shouldn't be so cruel, but seeing him below her, seeing the power she can wield over him summons a heat so deep in her bones she cannot ignore it.

Her hair fans out over her shoulders, longer now, and his tongue flits along his lower lip, reddened by desperate teeth. She combs her fingers through it casually, peering down at him. The sudden pulse of heat at her core is unexpected as he growls against her hold, his black gloves whining with the clench of his fists.

He's magnificent like this, all feral anger and stormy eyes.

She leans over and tests the muscles of his arms, firm, unforgiving. His glare drifts down to her wandering hands and back to her face, a huff of impatience leaving his lungs. It tickles at her cheeks as she bends close, but not close enough for a kiss. He jerks upward and falls back, exasperated.

"Let me go." A deliciously dark tone.

She bites into his neck before whispering in his ear. "No."

"Rey!" He exhales in a rush, his back arching. Let me go! his mind snarls.

She hovers over him, shaking her head. You want the lead? Take it from me.

His eyes widen at the challenge and she sits up, removing her shirt with agonizing slowness. It takes its warmth with it and she shivers at the coldness of the air, her nipples sensitive to the breeze. Kylo stares at them, hypnotized, and she feels a push, her hold on his body weakening.

She reinforces her power, earning a frenzied rumble from his throat. Try harder, she coaxes.

"Rey—

She covers his mouth with hers, swallowing her name and he bucks against her, caught between the desire to take and the inevitable surrender to her torture. The texture of his surcoat creates an exquisite friction that draws a surprised moan from her lips and Kylo presses forward, his tongue demanding—begging—as he tastes her fully.

Images flow into her mind, provocative images of him worshipping her, savoring her in ways that rouse a blush to her cheeks. His head between her thighs, hair tickling her skin and tongue doing things to make her scream unabashedly, eliciting incoherent strings of words and his name. Always his name, like a prayer lifted from her lips for him. Only for him.

She can feel the ghostly touches of the memory and her insides clench. Then, she slips, her hold on him loosening, and he has her, his arms chaining around her and they are rolling, his heavy body pinning her to the ground. She looks hazily up at him, his chest heaving and the anger in him brightening, dimming, flickering as a solitary candle.

"You're getting better." He comments huskily.

Rey pouts at him. "Cheater."

He smiles. "No such thing as cheating. Not with you."

And he worshiped her. Oh, how he worshiped her.