She had gone too far. That was pretty obvious. What had started as some harmless sex and a plot to kill Kylo Ren had metamorphized into something else altogether, because she'd seen something in the wall of mirrors she hadn't realised was there.

'How are we going to kill Kylo Ren?' Poe had returned to his favourite topic over breakfast. 'Rey? Any ideas?'

She shook her head. She no longer wanted him dead. Or at least, not right at the moment. Not until she'd figured out what all of this meant.

'I don't think we can kill him,' she mused. 'Not unless he makes himself vulnerable. Not unless he has a weakness.'

'You're his weakness,' Poe told her, with a confident grin. 'He wouldn't have killed Snoke for you otherwise.'

'He did that for himself,' she demurred. 'I don't mean anything to him.'

She thought quite hard about what to say to him all that day and into the next, wanting to get the words right before she launched herself into another encounter for which she was badly prepared.

He didn't come to her immediately when she entered the dream, she had to wait for quite some time, spending it building a hotel room with a balcony, a scenic view of an ancient castle surrounded by tiny sidestreets. He didn't speak straightaway, just joined her outside as she gazed out over the city.

'Where are we?' he asked eventually, when it became clear she wasn't going to speak. He stood an arm's length away and made no move towards her.

'Somewhere I saw in a picture book. I don't know where it is.'

He was silent for a minute. 'Sarcos Three, I think. I've been there. It's nice.' He took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry about last time. I went too far. '

She eyed him carefully, spoke the prepared words. 'Make love to me.'

He released a breath with a nervous laugh. 'Is that all? I thought you were going to say you didn't want to see me again.'

'Make love to me,' she repeated. She didn't want his apology, or his guilt. 'You said I could ask you to do anything, try anything and you wouldn't judge. That's what I want. I want to know if it feels different if you pretend you care.'

He winced at that, smoothed his face. 'Then I'll give you the bad romance novel experience. For which we need candles.' He waved a hand and the lights in the apartment went out, to be replaced by the flickering glow of melting tallow.

'And music.' From somewhere out in the street a string quartet began to play, a low and melancholy tune.

'A dress with a very long zip.' She glanced down to find that the outfit she usually imagined herself wearing had been replaced by a floor length, shimmering silk number with shoulder straps and a low neck.

'And a backstory.' He tapped a finger on the balcony. 'How about this – Supreme Leader Snoke is dead, slain by the hand of his disgraced apprentice, Kylo Ren. On the run from the First Order, Ren find his way to Sarcos Three, where he forges a new life as a …fencing instructor. By lucky chance, Ren meets Rey, the beautiful young Jedi who risked everything to save him from the dark side, only for him to betray her at the last moment. Desperate for her approval, Ren tricks Rey into a meeting. Thinking that she's waiting for her lover, the fucking annoying and surprisingly short-lived Poe Dameron, Rey finds Kylo Ren in his place instead. She turns, and says…' He beckoned to her with an expectant expression.

'You?' she offered, not really buying into the whole roleplay idea.

He tutted, 'Not very original but I can work with it.' He cleared his throat. 'Yes, me. I know you don't want to see me, but I couldn't stay away. I'm sorry let you down. I'm sorry I hurt you. Can you give me another chance?'

She wasn't completely sure if this was roleplay after all, or something more serious disguised as a joke. Testing, she said, 'What have you done with Poe?'

'Killed him. He deserved it. I am still Kylo Ren, remember.'

She turned away, wrapped her arms around herself. 'Never once have I forgotten who you are.'

'I've forgotten who I am,' he said softly. 'I killed Snoke for you. I left the First Order for you. I threw everything I had away and ran halfway across the galaxy to be with you.'

She shook head, unable to maintain the pretence. 'You killed Snoke for yourself. And the rest of it – that's what I wanted you to do. It's not what you actually did.'

'No,' he agreed. 'But I should have.'

She glanced at him sharply, but there was no hint of humour in his face, and she couldn't tell if he was joking or not. 'It's not too late.' She kept her voice light, not stupid enough to hope that he'd agree this time. 'You can still do all of that. Throw it all away and live with me on Sarcos Three.'

He came to stand beside her, propped himself on the balcony. 'I might. If you give me another chance.'

She dismissed that with a shake of her head. 'I trusted you once. I believed you. I won't make the same mistake again.'

'Then at least let me make love to you. So you can feel how much I care.'

He reached out and took her hand, curling his thumb into her palm and stroking it. She frowned at her hand in his, shot him a look, uncertain.

'Rey could feel her treacherous body respond as the dashing Kylo Ren held her hand,' he narrated, flipping back into the roleplay following that brief intermission of what felt like something else.

'No, I can't,' she whispered.

'She'd wanted him from the day they met in the forest, when she'd swooned away in his arms, dazzled by his air of dark mystery and enigmatic charm.'

She nearly smiled. 'I think you missed the word 'dead' out of that sentence.'

'Her bosom quivered and her knickers grew damp as he drew her into his arms.'

'You haven't imagined me wearing knickers.'

He pulled her against him, lowered his mouth to pour the words into her ear. 'She knew he'd be the best lover she'd ever had. She couldn't wait to feel his throbbing member enter her box of delights.'

She laughed at that. 'Throbbing member? Where are you getting this stuff?'

He pulled back, made a disapproving face. 'Chewbacca is not as innocent as he looks. There were always piles of this sort of trash in his room. I used to steal them when he wasn't looking. Is it alright if I kiss you now?'

She nodded, twined her arms around his neck, and stayed locked in that position for a very long time. It was like a first kiss, tentative, exploratory, a little rough around the edges. He spent a long time just getting to know her lips, imprinting soft and tender touches across every available surface, avoiding the temptation of her open mouth until he was done with being chaste. Then, when he finally did make use of his tongue he encouraged her to kiss him back, opening himself to scrutiny in turn. He itemised the inside of her mouth, learning how she liked to be kissed, and she returned the favour, finding him willing to demonstrate, with a sigh, or a tilt of the head, or an encouraging squeeze what he liked from her.

This was something that they should have done before, she thought, tight in his embrace and kissing now with both knowledge and passion, taken the time to get to know each other properly before jumping into bed.

When he broke the kiss with a gentle sigh and a significant look and tucked her hand beneath his arm to escort her into the bedroom, there was still a lot more exploring to be done. He stepped behind her, sucking lightly at the exposed flesh of her neck in a place he'd realised made her shiver and unzipped the dress from back to floor, the material whispering to the carpet in a long glide. He did not, for once, move straight for any of the obvious places, preferring to take his time kissing her neck, her shoulder, the inside of her wrist.

She undressed him slowly, carefully, her lips engaged in finding and investigating every muscle, every sinew, every square centimetre of flesh. He took over before her curiosity was exhausted, laying her back on the covers and starting from her toes up, touching, caressing, lingering over her body until her skin was tingling with the aftermath of every place he'd kissed. She relaxed into it, sank beneath the welter of responses he drew from her with lips, and hands, closed her eyes and let go. Every time she'd been with him before had been all about faster, and harder and more extreme, whereas this went on for hours, a slow, smooth swell of feeling that built in her head as well as her body.

He took her through a range of positions, all of which involved looking deep into her eyes, and during most of which he was able to kiss her, and she spread her legs for him and kissed him back. There was nothing in her consciousness but him, by the end, nothing of her life before or after this time in bed, no thoughts or desires or plots apart from the need to hold him tight, to run her fingers through his hair again, feel the muscles of his jaw work under his kiss.

Her orgasm was a different kind of climax, one that had no need for manual stimulation, a feeling that grew from her heart and her head and suffused her whole body with contentment. He was smiling by the end of it, rested his forehead on hers and breathed deeply a few times as he found his own release.

He put his arm around her and she cuddled against him, candlelight reflecting strange shadows off his chest, the music from outside a lilting lullaby.

'Who was the first person you did that with?' she asked, drawing idle patterns with the tip of her finger on his stomach.

He kissed the top of her head. 'She never told me her name. Not her real name anyway. I was young, sixteen maybe. I met her in a bar. I shouldn't have been there, but I'd had a fight with my parents about something or other, and I was looking for an excuse to make them worry. I went back to her ship, didn't come home for four days. Slept for about a week afterwards as I recall. I was exhausted.'

'And are you seeing anyone now?'

'Does it matter?'

She considered that from all directions, could find only one answer. 'Yes. It matters.'

He sighed, squeezed her a bit tighter against his chest. 'I have an arrangement with a couple of women. I see them if I need to. They're very discrete about it.'

The confession made her uncomfortable. 'How often do you need to see them?'

'Hardly ever. Not since I met you, anyway.'

The bundle of tension in her stomach dissolved somewhat. 'And what do they do for you?'

'Whatever I ask. They don't judge. Why are you so interested?'

'I'm not.' She retreated quickly.

His fingers stroked her arm. 'I'm flattered that you are. And are you seeing anyone? In real life?'

'I wouldn't be here with you if I were,' she pointed out.

'And who was the first person you had sex with? I've told you about mine.'

She attempted an airy laugh. 'He was no one.'

'From Jakku then, not one of the Resistance pilots? No one I've met?'

'Why are you so interested?'

'I'm not,' he said, but she could see the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. 'I'm not.'

'I'm flattered that you are.' She raised herself onto his chest, put her chin on her hand so he'd know she was being serious. 'Thank you for this. It was nice. I appreciate it.'

He ran a finger down her cheek. 'My pleasure.'

She fell asleep in his arms.

The Car Crash Bride and The Postman's Daughter by Sally Anne Palmer are available on Amazon.