Teach me the dark side. The words rang in Kylo's ears like the sweetest music he had ever heard. Desire welled in his deepest parts like a river threatening to flood its banks — but the desire was tempered with a hesitation. "I don't know how," he whispered.
She looked up at him, still bound, except for one hand, by the restraints. It was as if she could see into his soul. With her free hand, she pulled him towards her. As if sleepwalking, he allowed it, letting their lips meet in a kiss that was so filled with passion that neither could breathe. She broke away from him, then stared into his eyes. "We will learn." she whispered. "We will learn together."
The force was so strong that Kylo almost fell backwards, but her hand was steady. The kiss, now resumed, became deeper and he felt lost in the tempest tossed waves. Her hand began to explore his hair, his neck, his back, his waist … "Rey," he breathed out, suddenly, then eased closer and closer towards her. One hand was doing its own exploration now, and one hand unfastened the restraint that bound her other hand.
But she wasn't letting this freed hand wander far. Instead she had found the fastenings of his shirt and was swiftly undoing them. His shirt fell away, revealing a smooth upper body, muscles rippling below the surface of his perfect skin. He broke away, to see her in rapturous wonder.
"How could the dark side have claim on you?" she breathed. "You are the most perfect being I have ever seen." His veins filled with liquid fire. Suddenly, ravenously, as she explored his naked torso, he began to kiss her, then made short work of her tunic, then her leggings … Their hands together marked uncharted territory …
Unsure of how to proceed but refusing to stop, they gave each other just enough time to admire the other's bodies. Rey took a moment to admire the strength of his core and could not help but marvel at each detail under his skin—his chiseled muscles, gorgeous pale skin, and everything she had simply looked over before seemed like the most important sight she had ever seen. Kylo appreciated her delicate skin that wrapped tightly around each curve of her body. Just moments ago, she was protesting in an interrogation chair and spitting in his face, but now she unashamedly wanted him and every sensation he could offer. She was beautiful in her earnestness.
Remembering everything she stood for—the resistance movement, the Skywalkers, everything he hated—Kylo felt his blood begin to boil. He felt something between rage and desire, or maybe a mix of the two, and grasped both of her wrists with one hand as he bound them back into the restraints with the other. The interrogation chair felt cold and hard on her exposed back and legs, but Rey enjoyed the force and strength of his actions in a way that was almost unsettling but also deeply satisfying. She understood that she was his and she wanted to belong to him. From her position of weakness, she looked up into his eyes as he stood over her helpless frame.
"This just makes me need you more," she hissed. Every fiber of his being was on edge. Her body was covered in delicate goosebumps now. He rested a hand on her abdomen possessively, but almost callously.
"What makes you think I will give you what you need?" With this he withdrew his hand, finger by finger. She gasped at the loss. "Kylo," she whispered. "Please."