She thought about him, about his fiance, and then about her own man, so patient and sweet waiting for her back home. Yet here she was, betraying him at another 'late night' at work. She didn't deserve him, her hands caught her lovers, the soon to be married man, the words fell from her lips in a hushed dribble, "This is wrong,"
"Then why does it feel so right?" His fingers squeezed her exposed thighs, he always did this, pulled her further into the abyss of lust uncaring of her personal sacrifices and feelings.
It was supposed to be an arrangement, devoid of emotion and attachment, it wasn't ever lovemaking, it wasn't selfless, it was purely driven by lust and carnal need. Rey recognized this, it was just the meeting of flesh to satisfy an itch that others in their romantic bed could not. She knew that it was nothing more, she knew that he had a life of his own outside of her.
She too had a life of her own, a boyfriend, a cat, an apartment that she wanted to repaint and refurbish. There was no logical reason why she was upset when she learned he was engaged.
Perhaps it was the way she learned of it, a passing comment of gossip from one of her coworkers not directly talking to her. Maybe it was the confirmation that irked her, the nonchalant nod and grunt of verification. It stung inside, distracted her from the ruthlessness of pace, her fingers gripped the sheets so hard her knuckles were white.
Her fingers trembled as she buttoned up her white shirt, and he noticed, a raised eyebrow, nothing more, he didn't care to inquire about her mental or emotional state. It was just the pleasures of the flesh, nothing more.
Nothing more.
Going home to her boyfriend, her loyal and sweet boyfriend had been hell that day, torn up and conflicted over this pain in her chest that shouldn't exist. He could tell, his dark gaze soft and welcoming, he wouldn't ask, not because he didn't care but because he respected her privacy, that she would tell him when she was ready.
Over dinner when she couldn't stand his puppy-like imploring, he was too gentle, too patient, too contrasted to the two hours of pleasure and pain that she had experienced at an "office meeting". He was everything her boss was not, and she loathed that she wished he wasn't. She told him that there had been some schedule changes, that it looked like she was going to stay after more often like he could be so easily fooled.
What made her hate the feeling in her chest more was how easily he agreed, pushing her on toward success, her boss couldn't care about her future, only the now, only what she could give him.
She didn't know if she liked how she was controlled by her boss, or if she loathed it. Every time she returned to the gentle touches she'd recoil away, burned by the tenderness, confused by her body and its desires.
Then the guilt and the shame, the kind that ate at her insides as she hid in the shower from her patient boyfriend, one that knew the word "no", one that gave her space when she was tired.
With him, there was no tired, it wasn't over until he said. And if she dared to say no, to shy away when she felt it inappropriate, he'd grab her forcefully by the wrists and bend her over his knees, showing her just how little the word meant to him. He'd punish her in his own twisted ways until that soft coo of resistance became a mewling plea for more.
Rey slept on the couch that night, unable to spend a minute in bed with a man she had been betraying for over 4 months now.
She avoided her boss the next week, ducking into rooms with other associates that he wouldn't dare expose himself to, twisting around into elevators, shielding herself with phone calls with clientele and meetings.
Eventually her luck would run out, she didn't think it would be so soon.
It was that Friday, hardly 8 days for her to sort out the negative emotions clouding her logic. He was waiting for her, dressed in darkness by her car, she was supposed to go home early, but he had other plans.
She stopped in the streetlight, frowning at his imposing figure, at the dark locks of hair, at his even darker and hungry eyes, she didn't want to do this today, and her first thought was one of denying him the pleasure of even looking at her.
"Don't give me that look, Mrs. Kenobi," It was down to surnames, he was unhappy with her, and he would show her the might of it somewhere nearby. It was a promise in his tone, one she knew well from her early days and skittishness.
"What are you doing in front of my car?" Why won't you let me be?
"You've been avoiding me, Mrs. Kenobi, care to tell me why?"
"I don't feel like playing this game," I don't feel like sharing, knowing that I have to with any girl you choose.
"There is no game, what you and I do is more than that,"
"Is it more to your fiance? Does she even know?" Her words were a mistake, his fingers gripped her wrists painfully, pulling her body flush against him, crushing her to his chest and pelvis. She looked up with a lifted chin, bold and unafraid of his charms.
"Is the mouse jealous?"
"Fuck you-" Her body was pressed hard between the cool metal exterior of her car and his chiseled heat,
"If you ask nicely," His lips ghosted over the hollow of her throat, a long and torturous path to the shell of her ear, where he bit down. Rey squirmed at the mixed feeling of pleasure and pain, trembling against her captor, her strength waning.
She thought instead of the blonde woman she'd seen flow through the office, the one with a soft face, innocent eyes and a supple body he clearly didn't use the way he did with her. Recalling the intense burn of hatred in her heart for a woman who didn't know her, it was despicable, that one man did that to her. Rey wasn't the type to hate, yet he planted a seed of distrust and paranoia in her, possessiveness, their arrangement quickly becoming a power play of dominance.
She flipped, shoving him away by the shoulders and pulling open the door to her car, only to be shoved against it as it was closed again, her ass out against his hardening bulge, his voice low and hot on her neck, "It's always better when you're feisty," His hands traveled up the length of her inner thigh, fingertips brushing her core.
Her own fingers clipped against the door handle and she was in the driver's seat away from him. Pushing the keys to the ignition and about to pull away when he climbed into her car. Rey huffed a growl, "I don't want to do this anymore,"
"Drive," She did as she was told. Pulling out of the parking complex and around the city into darker more remote areas. She knew already where he wanted them to go. The entirety of the drive comprised of his fingers slipping into her panties, caressing in and between her moistening folds.
Her body was pushed into the back seat as soon as the engine was killed, her legs spread and shoes kicked off. She twisted, trying to squirm into a more dignified position, but his hand came down and gripped her hair, forcing her face into the leather of her back seat.
Rey thought again of her boyfriend, of his fiance, of the life she could have had if she hadn't met him. If she hadn't fallen for his charms and worked into his bed. She wondered what would happen if her boyfriend found out, if he ever did, sometimes she hoped that she might have an excuse.
She wondered if Ren would care, what of his fiance? What would happen between them? A sick heat swirled in her stomach, an uncomfortable feeling, regardless of how possessive Rey was of him, she would not be that woman.
Her pantie hoes were down around her knees, and her panties quickly followed, as usual, he wasted no time. Rey wondered then, would he ever be a considerate lover, had they met under different circumstances? She heard his belt click as he undid the leather, whipping it out from the loops with a single motion. His hands were on her then, sliding under her skirt, pushing it up, he was so close to touching her, so close to where her body burned for him.
"This is wrong," She mumbled, her fingernails scraping the seats to the back of her car. He didn't even take pause, "Then why does it feel so good?" She didn't have an answer. Perhaps there was an undeniable chemistry between them that outweighed logic and morality. Yes, that was it, she could blame it on simple pleasures of the flesh, it wasn't like she cared or anything.
He slid her shirt up and unclasped her bra, "Kylo," He stopped then, she wasn't one to say his name, she never had, even at work, always used his last name. She took a slow breath of air, "I can't do this anymore," She heard a huff of a laugh, she couldn't believe she was saying it either, her body was clearly sending another message, one that she had followed for months to no further development where it counted.
When she said nothing further and let the silence between them grow tense, he leaned back and slid her skirt back over her rump. Rey bit her lip and pressed her face into her forearms, "I don't want to see you anymore," She whispered, and in the deafening quiet of the car, she knew he heard her. She listened to the shuffle of clothing as he fixed himself, and she slowly slid closer to the door, pulling up her own undergarments and doing the same.
Her eyes flicked over to him, at how controlled and collected he was, all power and passion held back. Her lips twitched into a soft smile, one of sadness. He regarded her then, a strange look on his face, one of awe and something she had never seen on anyone's face before. She wondered what it was that made him look at her that way.
Rey pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear and crawled back into the driver's seat. Ren followed shortly behind, his face a mask of impassiveness. She drove him back to the car park, finding a spot and waiting. The vehicle hummed around her, and she found it comforting, "Ren-" She said, stopping suddenly, unsure of what to say, or how to say it. What did one say to their recently removed lover? He was looking at her again, a very unhappy expression on his lips, but his eyes said curiosity, they said sadness and disappointment, "Ren, do you love your fiance?"
"What kind of question is that?" He said with a scoff as if it were obvious. Rey squeezed the steering wheel,
"An honest one,"
"I'm going to marry her," He stated, a fact, nothing more,
"But do you love her?" She didn't know why she wanted an answer, maybe it was the desire that he told her yes. If he told her yes then she could pull away and say, 'oh he loved someone else,' rather than wallow in questioning, asking, what ifs. She pressed her lips together, he said nothing to her for a long time.
He got out of her car suddenly, eyes angry and filled with confliction. She wanted to reach for him, she wanted to ask what was wrong, but she was just his personal assistant and secretary, she was just an employee. Nothing more.
Hello, I'm creating a collection of Short Stories centered mainly around Rey and Kylo Ren, either of their relationship with each other or those around them. I am willing to accept prompts suggested in the comments, but I've never done requested writing before, so bear with me if it's not exactly as you envisioned. These shorts will range from K+ to M, thus rating it an M just in case I get too descriptive.
Thank you for reading, have a good day :)