The firm muscles of his arms, hard and supple beneath her desperate palms.
Manna got out of bed.
The single, shocked crackle of static that shot out of his helmet when she imagined what he might feel like inside her.
Manna got into the shower.
The smell of black leather.
Manna got dressed.
The delicious shock of realizing he was human, and that her hips were bucking against a very real erection.
Manna ate her breakfast rations.
The growl of his modulated voice demanding she open her eyes.
Manna saluted General Hux.
The sudden, sweet pressure of his hard cock against her as he slammed their hips together.
Manna did her job.
The sudden, sweet pressure of his hard cock against her as he slammed their hips together.
Manna did her job.
The sudden, sweet pressure of his hard cock against her as he slammed their hips together.
Manna did her —
"General Hux." The synthetic growl came seemingly out of nowhere. She snapped her head up from the complicated (yet monotonous) task she'd lost herself in and was shocked to see Commander Ren standing beside her supervisor and the General. She hadn't even heard the telltale clicking of his boots, she'd been so deep in her own —
Oh.
Shit.
"Commander," the red-haired General responded briskly. He barely turned from the system he was analyzing with another tech and her supervisor, sending a quick glance in Ren's direction.
Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Stop thinking.
Manna ducked her head down and continued her duties without skipping a beat, though the same could not be said of her heart. In fact, it was kind of in her throat at the moment.
"MN-8486." He wasn't facing her, he was addressing her superiors, but the sound of her stormtrooper ID coming from that mask sent a shudder through her body. Not a good one. Not like —
The sudden, sweet pressure of his hard cock against her as he slammed their hips together.
He was only visible out of the corner of her eye, but she could've sworn she saw the Commander's body jerk... just slightly.
I have to stop. Stop thinking. Look. Look at that piece of tech there, the Weapon will never perform as it should unless you set it just so.
"I would have reprimanded her properly yesterday, Commander," said Hux, his lip curling as he addressed Ren in a cold sneer, "but I do believe I was interrupted." The cockpit supervisor looked between the two, wisely keeping silent.
"Yes. Well. The commands of the Supreme Leader are ours to follow." Manna could almost feel the empty eyes of his mask on her. She forced herself not to look.
It won't fit like this. You know better than that. Really look at the damn thing. You need to adjust it.
"What do you want with my systems technician, then, Commander?" Hux let out a sharp breath that might have been meant to pass as a put-upon sigh. "She has work to do."
Adjust the piece. Yes. Now put it there. Look, it fits. It fits like —
Commander Ren pressing her naked body up against the window, buried inside her to the hilt —
Suddenly there was a gloved hand crushing her wrist, wrenching her out of her seat as the piece of tech fell to the ground and broke.
"I'm sending her to reconditioning myself," the Commander's synthetic voice barked. Everyone in the cockpit looked up from their work, startled. Manna knew better than to struggle against him but she was too afraid to look at his mask. Reconditioning. Oh, how she'd fucked up. She'd fucked up bad.
His leather-bound fingers gripped her tighter, yanking her away from the console to stand next to him like an admonished child with a stern schoolteacher. Her wrist was beginning to ache but what was worse was the thought of going through the whole process all over again, being broken down only to be broken down again and then once more for good measure... she wasn't sure she could take it.
Manna held herself as high as she could, given the circumstances. One thing they taught you in conditioning was to accept your punishments with grace.
"Reconditioning?" Hux echoed, incredulous, as though the idea he'd proposed himself sounded absolutely insane coming from the Commander.
"Reconditioning." Without waiting for a discussion he forced Manna ahead of him, placing his other hand on the back of her neck to control her like an unruly dog, and began to steer her out of the cockpit. "You will need to find a replacement for her position until the process is complete."
Hux called out something containing the word 'ludicrous' and then they were gone, too far down the hallway to hear him protest.
"I tried," Manna whispered, hoping he could hear her through his cowl. In her panic she had forgotten she didn't need to speak for him to hear her. "I tried to stop, I really did, but —"
"Silence."
They wound their way through the cavernous metal halls in silence aside from the clicking of his boots. Her face burned hot with embarrassment. The things she'd been thinking... they weren't just unprofessional, they were wrong. She supposed she deserved this.
Manna had nearly come to terms with the punishment fitting the crime when Commander Ren pushed her past the reconditioning quarters.
Her head snapped back as they passed it to watch the formidable cell block fade in the distance behind them. Where were they going?
He was going to kill her.
The realization set in like a heavy stone sinking to the bottom of a black pond: he was going to kill her.
The hand on the back of her neck dug its fingers into her skin; had he not been wearing gloves, he might've drawn blood. The other hand gripping her wrist dropped it to wave at a heavy black door at the end of the hall.
It wasn't a normal door, not like the rest of them on the base. It appeared to have much heavier security, much more advanced tech, and yet it slid open as easily as the door to her measly little quarters with a flick of Ren's wrist.
The Commander forced her inside. As the door shut with a heavy clang behind them — almost as though he had bypassed its typical opening mechanisms in favor of using the Force and then just let it go — Manna had a brief moment to take in the room. Black matte metal walls in strange plated patterns, consoles with blinking red lights, the largest bed she'd ever seen. And then:
"It's not supposed to work this way," Ren's modulated voice hissed in her ear. The grip on the back of her neck was tight, painful, and not getting any looser. It didn't allow her to turn her head and look at him. Not that she particularly wanted to. "Our situation last night was simply meant to shut up that relentlessly racing mind. Not make it worse."
"I'm sorry," Manna gasped. He gave her a little shake, rattling her teeth in her skull.
"You're 'sorry.' How quaint. Do you realize I've spent all morning with that little show of yours playing in my head?" When she didn't answer, the Commander shook her again, harder this time. "It's one thing to hear your insipid thoughts about snow-covered trees. How am I supposed to focus on any task at all when you're..."
He drifted off, seemingly at a rare loss for words, then simply pulled her back against him. Her back pressed against his solid, muscular chest... and her backside into his raging erection.
He placed one hand around her throat from behind and squeezed.
"You're doing this," Ren growled, "on purpose."
"I'm not!" Manna squirmed against his grip, her hands instinctively coming up to try to free herself. The squirming was a poor choice; his other arm hooked around her waist and pulled her tight towards him. His cock pushed insistently against her struggling body.
Something emanated from the mask that may have been a moan.
"Yes. You are."
There was a pause as Manna figured out what she was doing; she swallowed hard and stopped fighting against his grip, letting her body go slack. She kept her hands at her throat but stopped trying to force his hand off.
She waited for his next move. His next move was key in determining hers.
Less than an hour ago she'd been eating her breakfast rations.
She didn't have to wait long for the leather glove to release her hip, take hold of her left hand and slowly bring it behind her, placing it on his swollen crotch. Manna swallowed nervously.
"This was your favorite part," Ren's synthetic voice murmured in her ear. "You kept showing me. Again. And again. Is that how badly you want it?"
When she didn't do anything, when she was too shocked to do anything, she felt the fingers of her hand suddenly begin to massage the bulge beneath his robes against their own volition. He was using the Force again. Showing her what he wanted.
There was no reaction until Manna bit her lip and took over the motions herself, mimicking how he had been manipulating her — and then there was a sharp, staticky intake of breath through his mask, a buck of his hips into her touch. It was the most she'd ever seen the Commander react to anything and she found herself utterly fascinated. Utterly... aroused.
Manna did want him. She wasn't so arrogant as to deny that, knowing he could hear and see inside her head as easy as breathing. He was powerful and he was intimidating and he had the strange ability to set her body on fire with lust and she wanted him but...
"There's something else I want first," she murmured. Manna kept her hand moving over his cock in slow, sure squeezes. The mask made no more noise but his hips were following her touch faithfully.
She closed her eyes and instead of telling him, she just thought it.
For a moment she wasn't sure if he was considering the request or simply hadn't heard her. Then the leather gloves left her throat, her hand. Behind her, something clicked, hissed out air. A heavy thump on the floor near her feet.
Kylo Ren's mask stared up at her, expressionless as always.
At her ear, a strangely familiar voice devoid of its static and modulation:
"And now what is it you want?"
