Very strong M coming up. Then one more chapter.

Seven: Surrender

Rey feeds him a lie and a truth with only a breath in between: "I'm not afraid. I trust you."

His lips skim the furrows of worry etched across her brow. Unlike the lines on her arms, these marks melt away beneath his mouth as she extends her trust like an open palm. Every cell within him shakes as he accepts the delicate gift, fearful that he will damage it unintentionally, knowing he could break it with one wrong move.

His cock aches with the swell of blood. When it grinds against the soft skin of her inner thigh, they groan in unison.

Around them, the air billows with energy. It teems with vibrant light, shimmering around the act of propagation - the most ancient ritual of creation. Kylo has never felt so awash with the Force. That he and Rey generate such power on their own fills his mind with heady daydreams.

While he's caught in cosmic possibilities, Rey's base desires take the lead. She closes her hand around him; the cool touch against his heated skin yanks him back to the present moment. He tries to escape by leaning back on his heels, but Rey refuses to concede his freedom.

Her fingertips just overlap as she curls them around his shaft. "You're so big."

Kylo bucks into her careful hold, croaking, "Rey - "

He had been prepared to see fear in her eyes when she saw him, all of him, but her regard is full of admiration and hunger. She alters her grip, pumping him in a firm way that is nearly his undoing.

Through the fog of his growing desire, he reaches for her. She's slick and warm on his finger. His touch elicits a sound that's part gasp, part cry, and she drops her hand to claw at the sheets.

The sight of Rey beneath him is balm for the neglect: with her hair splayed against the mattress, eyelids hooded, mouth parted, and legs spread, she is more than he ever dared to dream of.

She isn't an ethereal goddess to which poets and lovers dedicate cantos. Her skin bleeds and bruises; her hands are calloused and strong; her throat growls what she can't articulate. She is no enchantress, yet she has bewitched him.

Slowly, he runs his fingers along her again, spreading her wetness. Rey cants her hips, circling in the opposite direction of his movements, then grunts, frustrated.

He'd smile except he senses he's doing something wrong. "What - ?"

Rey cuts him off, snaking her hand down her toned belly to join his. "Like this."

She guides him to her most sensitive spot and increases the pressure of his touch, rolling her hips to test the new angle. Kylo repeats the pattern she shows him and is rewarded with a smile and a breathless, "Yes, just like that."

As he follows her directive, unerring in its execution, her breathing becomes increasingly unstable. Deep inhalations are punctuated with short pants; there are moments he isn't sure she's breathing at all.

It's at such a pause when he inserts his middle finger, pushing until his knuckles rub against her folds. Rey arcs off the mattress with her head thrown back, a soundless moan wailing in his mind. Her hips move restlessly against him, and Kylo's unoccupied hand soothes her with a promise of more.

He may lack experience, but he knows she needs this before they can go any further. She's still too tight, too unprepared for what's to come. Mindfully, he adds his index finger, rotating the two digits to stroke her inner walls, stretching her.

"Kriff," she swears. With his body out of reach, she gropes the fabric of her breastband.

Kylo watches as she wrestles herself free while using his thumb to rub her swollen clit and curling his fingers inside of her. Rey's nipples are rosy beads, their color matching the deep pink hue of her lips. She plucks at them, pinching and fondling with no predictable pattern, but in a way that makes her bite down on her bottom lip.

Refocusing his attention, Kylo splits his fingers, then begins to test the tip of a third. He makes it just past the rim of her opening when Rey cries out, clenching around him. Shock, pleasure - they mingle in his chest as they radiate through her body.

She's finally ready.

A whimper protests his withdrawal. Kylo strokes himself a few times to spread the pearled precum over his length before grasping her hips and shifting them both into a better position.

When his head rubs against her, it's no longer a surprise that her response is to inch forward. Rey rocks back and forth, taking him in little by little. He scrapes his teeth along the column of her throat, trying to warn her go slow, trying to tell her how desperately he needs to go faster.

At one point, he feels stuck, barred from going any further though he's only halfway in. Kylo draws back slightly, dragging an audible moan from her lips, before he pushes forward and past the internal barrier.

Everything goes still.

"Ben."

The stars could fall from the sky and all he would know is the whisper of his name drifting from her lips. He's lost in the haze of light surrounding them, in the searing heat which engulfs him as he feels the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his, as he maps the hard lines and soft curves of her body.

Exquisite. Every inch.

"Ben. . ."

At her behest, he begins to move. She laments each loss and sings with each return. Kylo rocks into her with as much measured grace as he can, but he picks up the pace too quickly.

A flat palm pushes against his chest as she cringes. "Too much."

He slips from her completely, panicked and mumbling incoherent apologies against her neck, fighting the dark thoughts invading his mind: she was wrong to trust him; he knew it in his bones.

Rey tilts his chin up, brushing tender kisses on his cheeks while her knees squeeze in an unspoken instruction. He tilts to the left, sliding beneath her, watching the pain in her eyes fade back to unquenched desire.

"I never said stop," she says, forgiving him with a smile.

Before he can respond, she's taken him in hand and aligned him with her entrance. Once she's found her seat, she places her hands on his shoulders, supporting herself as she grinds down and against him. Kylo's breathing stutters at the image. His hands grip her sides, steadying her as she undulates at her own pace.

When her movements become sporadic and she flutters around him, Kylo uses his thumb to stroke the spot she showed him before. It makes her spasm and collapse, burying her head in the crook of his neck as she calls out his name.

Fingers threaded through her hair, he holds her against him, thrusting up until he shatters and joins her in oblivion.