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Strangely, when Lucilla woke the next morning, the General was gone. He had left her to sleep; stolen glances over his shoulder from where he sat at the edge of the bed as he dressed. She looked positively heavenly. Dark butterfly lashes lowered over the deep blue pools, her breathing was totally at ease while the rich black curls were slightly tousled from where they rested against the pillow and contrasted with her pale skin.
At least he'd see her earlier than usual that day, intending to put her on his own transport at noon. One more glance back at the young female in his bed then he headed for the bridge. Going through her wardrobe to pack the single bag she had been allowed, Lucilla found herself with tough decisions.
"Dress appropriately." He'd told her before she fell asleep. "And dress warmly. It's going to be cold." Naturally, she would comply. She'd have to leave most of it behind her so only the essentials, unsure when she'd be back to being the rest or if she would be back. She packed the slips first; strictly no white as he'd instructed. Two grey and four black were carefully folded into the bag, several pairs of underwear and whatever dresses she could fit in.
Lucilla had always been a colourful dresser but since arriving on Finalizer, it seemed the bright colours were not appreciated. If change was required to please her master than change would happen. Luckily, it was only the colour of the dresses she wore rather than anything like her hair colour or something more difficult like that. She quite liked her hair colour.
So when the shy lieutenant (the one that stared every time he brought her something but never actually spoke to her) arrived just before noon to take her bag and bring her to the transport, she took one last fond glimpse back at the living area then left. Hopefully the long, dark green and slightly off the shoulder dress would be satisfactory to the General. As always, her hair was down and make up perfect; the lieutenant stared as usual.
As agreed, she would not speak nor interact with anyone. Her guide included. The hem of the black cloak whispered along the cold metal floor behind her, the fur trimmed hood modestly covering her head and casting a partial, humble shadow over her face as she approached where her General waited. Others waited with him but he watched her especially, ignoring the lieutenant he'd sent to fetch her and her bag. Did his colleagues know they were waiting on the General's plaything? Even if they did, what could they say? It was up to him if he wanted a personal companion on board and while it might have started that way, he was certainly more than happy to have her now.
Lucilla was greeted with subtlety though she still avoided eye contact with the General. As per routine. In an uncharacteristic move, he offered her his arm, a means to (in a gentlemanly fashion) escort her to the shuttle. Whether it was for show in front of his colleagues or not, she wasn't sure but she would submit as she was expected to do. It was up to him if he wanted to treat her like a lady or an animal. With that in mind, she took his arm and let him lead her.
The transport passed without incident. He helped her into the shuttle and helped her out again before escorting her to his quarters with her arm in his once more. It was unusual to say the least but she could not and would not complain. The General's quarters were bigger than on Finalizer. Similar but bigger. The layout was the same and the furnishings were almost identical, the only difference was the window the stretched almost the full length of the living quarters.
Lucilla's bag was brought in by Lieutenant Mitaka who seemed to only have two roles: bringing things to the General's quarters and breaking bad news to Kylo Ren. He certainly had a preference in those two duties. And it wasn't enduring a showering of sparks every time he needed to report to his superior. He didn't know her name, no one seemed to. He had seen her the day she arrived, like everyone else on board and since then he had been charged with ensuring she received her meals on time and that anything ordered for her was brought to her.
Again, it was a duty he didn't object to. He stood and watched for a moment as the hood came down; she was lost in the expanse of stars outside the window, every twinkling diamond greeting her to her new surroundings. Feeling he had outstayed his welcome, Mitaka took his leave with one last glance at the dark haired female; craving the day that he'd have risen enough to have a companion of his own. He was rather taken with this one though.
The General's usual homecoming time came and went. She was dressed, ready and waiting but no sign. So she sat on the windowsill and looked out, even the glass was freezing to the touch. She understood now why he'd told her to dress warmly, the walk from the shuttle to the base itself had been chilling. Still, looking out at the snow was oddly comforting. The bluish tint to it reflected from the sky relaxed her and the sight of so much of it alone was fascinating.
"Lucilla." Her name made her jump and she realized then that doors were quieter on Starkiller than they were on Finalizer.
"General, I'm so sorry. I…." Before she could finish the sentence, he finished it for her. She was already easing off his greatcoat when he did so.
"Got distracted. Yes, I can see that." He didn't sound angry or put out. Slightly amused by her fluster if anything.
"My conference ran a little long with obvious answers to tedious questions. I got back as quickly as I could." With his gloves stripped, he helped himself to the armchair to the right of the fireplace, closest to the window. "Whyren's tonight, Lucilla." He told her casually as he made himself comfortable. She'd know what that meant and so put down the bottle she had in her hand and picked up the most expensive and strongest one.
"It's been a long but essential day and I'd like to finish it right." The glass was poured and carried over as it always was before her place was taken on the floor to remove his boots. "Stop."
Lucilla looked up with an almost petrified confusion, fearful she'd done something wrong or she'd poured from the wrong bottle; she hadn't but where her master was concerned, the routine was sacred.
"Stand up." Wary, she did as she was told and waited. For a moment, there was nothing. He just watched her with his head tilted. "Take it off." Compliant, she removed the grey slip dress and passed it to his outstretched hand. Lucilla straightened herself, naked in the living area with the fire warming her back under the scrutinizing eye of her master. Again, nothing.
He just sat and watched her, eyes roving. It had occurred to him earlier in the day (during that draining conference actually) that while he had seen her naked, he'd never actually looked and appreciated it. So that had been on his mind on his way back to his quarters. His icy gaze swept from her shoulders to her chest, stopping at her breasts (the pert, medium size his father had specified) and rosy nipples then down her stomach and lingered on that familiar scar.
One would think that the garish mark would take away from the otherwise perfect specimen but no. It gave her character if nothing else. That dragged his attention to her hips. She might have been a small and petite female but her hips looked particularly strong for a woman of her size. A shame they were wasted though or maybe it wasn't, he'd had this fight with himself before.
Before he could take any more in, the com from outside the door buzzed. Lazily, he looked in the direction the noise had come from and rolled his eyes.
"Yes?!" Before Lucilla could even try to cover herself or to ease back the slip, he rounded on her with a growl. "Don't." The door opened to grant Lieutenant Mitaka entry and he took a few steps inside until he spotted the naked female he admired on a daily basis. Mitaka was unable to blink though he wished to the Gods that he could. He was just staring with his mouth dry. The silence spanned a few seconds until the General sliced it.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"G…General…. They've run the di…diagnostics again…. Everything is….Fine." Hux glanced over the arm of his chair and while Mitaka was nervous by nature, he usually had better control of that stutter. Lucilla seemed to be the reason he didn't. Lucilla's eyes stayed on the floor and her arms remained dutifully at her side; all attempts to cover herself forgotten.
"Is that all?"
"Y…Yes, General." His eyes flickered from his lieutenant to his naked companion. He reached out and dragged the nails of his left hand lightly down the soft, supple flesh of Lucilla's stomach, leaving four pink, vertical marks on her milky skin. It didn't hurt as such but she shuddered at the contact, his hand cold from the glass.
"She's beautiful; isn't she, Lieutenant?"
"Y…Yes, General…"
"Dismissed. I'm not to be disturbed again tonight."
"Yes, G…General."
When Mitaka left, Hux continued to examine his companion. He'd meant it; she was beautiful and the more he sat and marvelled at her, the more obvious it became. The glass was set down and Lucilla waited.
"Come closer." Obediently, she became fully within his reach and with a strength it didn't look like he had (he wasn't short on height but his muscle capacity didn't seem to match his rank), the female was swept up and adjusted so she was straddling his lap. They were so close now that every lusty breath he drew, she could feel it sweeping over her skin.
"I think we've established Mitaka has a soft spot for you." It was dangerously quiet and the reverberations of it in his chest could be felt in hers.
"He's always like that, General." She responded with a taint of nerves. Sometimes, his temper could be unpredictable. "He always stares but I've never heard him speak until just now…." Hux's eyes raked Lucilla's angelic features, looking for any ghost of a lie. He found nothing but worried devotion.
"I don't have to worry about what goes on when I'm not around; Lucilla, do I?"
"No, General. Never." His hand stroked up and down her spine possessively while his other hand went between her legs; he savoured her stiffening when she felt it.
"You know who you belong to, Lucilla, don't you?" One long, index finger found the crease at her opening and caressed it which made her answer falter.
"Yes, General…." Came the sweet whine that completed his evenings. Placing a light kiss in between her breasts, he stayed there.
"Who do you belong to, Lucilla?"
"You, General." She answered, gently grinding against his finger for some bare relief. "Only you."
Lucilla's back hit the new, firm mattress of the General's unchristened bed. He was on her without too much of a delay, shredding his uniform with urgency and fervour; tossing it unceremoniously over the side of the bed. There were more in the closet; she could attend to the one on the floor in the morning. He was panting with animosity as if going by pure instinct, almost like he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with her.
He quickly eased his mind by diving straight for her neck. She'd roused him in a way she never had with her whimpered pledges of loyalty and now, he needed her. The cries of pained enjoyment simply fed the primal burning at every suckling bruise, at every nip, at every bleeding bite mark; she'd feel it when she woke up. He held her chin to turn her and adjust her; a guarantee that no patch of skin would be unmarked.
Both naked bodies writhed; one exerting its dominance, the other accepting its submission and the two seemed to feed off each other, two sides to the same coin. It was clear he was eager to sate the carnal urges when he held her where he wanted her and drove himself in with little mercy or compassion for the tiny female. Automatically, Lucilla's face contorted as she took him all the way to the base; one would think she'd be used to such treatment by now but no. His hips swung back, withdrawing himself to the absolute minimum before forcing his way back in again.
His brutal barrage of quick, harsh thrusts was in full swing and he hadn't actually realized how satisfying it was to look at her face while he moved. Her leg was grabbed and thrown up over his shoulder, relishing the sob of pleasure he received both from the pull of the muscle in her thigh and the extra depth he'd gained by doing it. He leaned in as close to her as he could get, his forehead almost touching off hers.
"Do you know what he's doing right now?!" He was referring to Mitaka and she knew it.
"N…No, General." She quaked with every damaging thrust.
"He's in his quarters, thinking about what he saw! Thinking about you!" He wasn't jealous. At least that's what he told himself. But who did he have to blame? Who invited him in? He did. The boiling fuelled the savage movements; she would definitely be sore the next day. "He's touching himself, wishing he was in my position right now!"
Whether he was or not, it was impossible to know but Hux seemed convinced. He couldn't blame the alcohol either. He'd abandoned almost a full glass when Lucilla became too much for him. He was just tied up in the eroticism of the whole encounter that was the most likely explanation. He subsided into heavy groans of pure ecstasy, paired with her weaker whimpers and whines; combined, they reflected their enjoyment.
His hips knocked hard against hers each time they met but he didn't seem to notice. That soft, delicate skin would be decimated but he'd count every bruise with pride; marking his territory like some cruel alpha male. He didn't know how long he pounded her fragile frame against the mattress but he was suddenly hit with the realization that he couldn't hold on for much longer.
With that notion in his head; his hands balled into tight fists, his knuckles white as he pressed them down hard against the bed on either side of her. His last thrust was especially hard and was delivered with an almost agonizing snarl as he came in the barren female. His face buried in her chest for a moment, his own heaving and his heart hammering before rolling off and making himself comfortable; there was nothing quite like a ruthless fuck to blow off the steam of command. Mostly satisfied but not completely, Lucilla caught her breath and pulled back the sheets but her General stopped her.
"Get back in here." His eyes were closed but she did. "You're staying here tonight."
"Yes, General…." She answered, hoarse from moaning and the pressure from the various degrees of damage he'd done to her neck and throat.
"No make-up on your neck tomorrow." He'd nearly succumbed to slumber. "I want to be able to see every bruise."
" Yes, General."
"Go to sleep."