Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! My lovely anonymous guest users who fill me with joy at their kind words. I really appreciate it. Here's the next chapter. Please keep in mind, this one is a little, erm, rude towards the end.

(warnings, mentions of violence, references of animal death/hunting, a bit of dub-con on the basis of paid prostitution work and definitely rated E)

Chapter 5 - Head On

The light above the brothel door remained off, the dim crimson bulb lost against the charcoal walls. Rey rushed to the entrance, head bent as she tapped her dying phone. She had forgotten to plug it in last night and it was almost spent.

The sun had dipped below the city dwellings, dragging the day's warmth away. The light replaced by biting gusts of wind screeching through the streets. She pulled a grey woollen jacket around her shoulder, trying to keep the cold away as the wind buffeted her hair and sent spirals of leaves whirling down the laneway.

A man dressed in a thick grey scarf and brown leather jacket leant against the wall. His hands were cupped to his mouth, blowing warm air into his fingers as though he had been waiting in the cold all afternoon. He had wavy dark hair streaked with silver, a shadow of stubble pricked at his jaw. He looked up at Rey as she came closer, brows raising curiously.

She avoided his gaze and hastened to the door.

"Hey!" he called out after her with an assertive voice.

She buried her head further into her chest, quickening her steps.

"Wait!" His voice trailed close behind her."Do you work here?"

"The brothel isn't taking customers until after six."

"I'm not a customer, I wanted to ask—"

"I can't help you, sorry."

She charged to the door, hoping to get away from him but he intercepted her path, bullishly blocking her from going any further.

Unable to get past him without creating a scene, Rey sighed and folded her arms.

"What do you want?" she huffed.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

Another sigh, but this time she added a roll of her eyes for good measure. "Yes."

He smiled, exposing a line of perfect white teeth. He was a good-looking guy. One of those cocky, self-assured types. In other circumstances, she would have considered him handsome, but here outside the brothel, she didn't care what he looked like, as long as he left her alone.

"I'm a reporter for the Hosnian Herald. I wanted to ask you some questions."

"No way." Rey pushed past him, but he remained planted where he was, still blocking her from opening the door. He was determined, she'd give him that.

"Look, I just started here. I can't give you some sex-worker sob story, or whatever else you're after."

"Ha! You're good." He pointed to her with a charming smile, his presence exuding a nervous energy and excitement. "I'm not after your story, I want to talk to you about your boss, Alexander Snoke."

Coldness. It flooded her body, showering her from top to bottom. Her jaw stiffened as her memory flashed of that boney finger, calling her forward, the way he touched her, like he owned her body …

"... and the fact there's a disturbing number of people who have disappeared after having dealings with him…" Poe rushed his words, as though he knew his time was running out.

Rey lowered her head again and pushed past him, edging him away from the door just enough to force it open.

"... and countless witnesses have accused him of being a violent loan shark who…"

She yanked the door back, forcing the reporter away from her and slammed it shut behind her, locking the deadbolt as she did.

Could this day get any worse? She slumped her back against the door, dragging her hands down her face.

"Is that Poe Dameron still out there hounding everyone?"

Rey searched for the source of the voice, as her eyes adjusted to the dimly-lit foyer. A black head of hair popped up from behind Phasma's desk. Rey startled, confronted with a short Asian woman wearing pigtails and a bubbly smile.

"Oh God, I thought you were Phasma!" Rey panted as she clasped her hand to her heart.

"I know, we're so alike. People confuse us all the time," the girl chided with a laugh. "I'm Rose, Rose Tico—or Rosebud was the terrible name they gave me here, but that was just some sick joke of Snoke's. You must be Rey."

Rose held her hand out and Rey gave it a sturdy shake.

"Or Desert Flower was the terrible name they gave me," Rey said with a sly smile.

"That's not too bad. It could have been worse," Rose replied.

Rey took off her jacket and hung it by the coat rack over the door, peeking behind the heavy-set crimson curtains as she did. "So, that Dameron guy out there. Does he come around here often?"

"He's always digging around for some dirt on Snoke." Rose shook her head and added in a whisper. "Not that he'll ever find it. Snoke never does his own dirty work, but you didn't hear it from me."

"Who does then?"

"He calls them his Knights. Some of them are ex-military, others are masters of martial arts. Trained killers either way. We're not supposed to talk about them. They come here, every now and then. He likes to keep them satiated . "

Rey's thoughts immediately flashed to Kylo. He had barely flinched when she had attacked him today, so he knew how to take a punch. And the way he commanded her, confident, like he was used to authority ...

"But I thought you would have known about them." Rose continued. "I mean, you're sleeping with the master of the Knights of Ren himself."

"What?" Rey asked her voice going hollow

"You're Kylo's girl, aren't you?" Rose interrupted her thoughts.

"Uh, I—"

Rose smiled knowingly. "How's that been for you?"

"Umm…" Rey struggled to find the words to say out loud—infuriating, confusing …

"Bad, hey?. The others say he's an emotionless robot. Never gives any of the girls any pleasure. I don't think he even enjoys it himself, to be honest. I have no idea why he comes here, apart from the fact Snoke expects him too. But honestly, the guy doesn't even like touching people. If you ask me, he's a bit fucked in the…" She pointed to her head, tapping on it pointedly.

Rey nodded. So it wasn't just her then. But something Rose had said piqued in her mind. He had certainly taken time to take care of her—her cheeks prickled with heat at the thought. Was that unusual then? Had he stuck to the rules with everyone else? She wasn't sure how she felt about that, flattered, concerned… curious?

"Be careful around him, okay? Snoke didn't make him Master of the Knights of Ren because of his chivalry."

"What do you mean?" Rey asked, her voice betrayed with a hoarse whimper.

"He's dangerous, Rey. He works very closely with Snoke, and that can't be good for anyone. Just be careful."

Rey nodded, not feeling comfortable with the conversation anymore. She was about to go upstairs to her room when her phone vibrated, warning she was down to 10 per cent battery life.

"Hey Rose, is there somewhere I can charge my phone. I'm down to one bar."

"Yeah, come with me," Rose beckoned her to follow, leading her to a door tucked away in the darkest corner of the room. When they reached the door, Rose hesitated, taking a deep breath and then knocked. "Mr Snoke?"

Rey's blood froze solid in her veins, as her stomach hardening into rock.

Not Snoke, Please not Snoke.

She waited for his gravelly voice to answer, for those frosty caustic eyes to pin her in their sights, but there was no answer beyond the door.

"There's a charging station in his office. He isn't here most of the time," Rose said.

"And what if he is?"

"Then I suggest you walk the other way," she said darkly.

Snoke's office was colder than the rest of the building and far darker. Rose flicked a switch by the door, a red silk lantern with crimson tussles lit up the room in a gentle glow. The room was ostentatious and cluttered, with ornaments from different parts of the world scattered on every surface. A heavy mahogany desk was in the far end of the room, just behind a zebra skin matt. Rey screwed up her nose at it, and even more so at the lion's bust centred directly on the wall behind. The beast stared at her with hollow eyes and teeth bared, its own blood still stained the fur along the neckline.

"Gross," Rey muttered, as she took in the glorified self-portraits of Snoke bundled over various animal corpses, hunting rifle in one hand and knife in the other. All of them rare or exotic animals, hollow and broken, bleeding out upon the African grassland. So he loved to slaughter innocent things, she mused. Not surprising.

"I know, right? That's not even the worst part of this room." Rose strolled over to a pair of large heavyset cabinet doors against the far right wall of the room. Giving Rey one conspiratory glance, she released the catch holding the doors together with a click.

Rey came closer, curiosity overcoming her more than any true desire to know what lay at the heart of Snoke's sick fetishes.

Inside was a wall lined with what looked like torture devices to her, handcuffs, whips, chains, knives, dog leashes, ball and chain, face muzzles and belts of leather dotted with steel studs.

"What is this?" Rey whispered, her voice failing her.

"You haven't had to be with him yet, have you?"

Rey shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat like it was a piece of coal.

"Keep it that way if you can." Rose closed the doors quickly. "It's not … pleasant."

Rey remained fixed before his personal collection. What the hell she had gotten herself into by agreeing to this job? She should have faked or death or fled the country instead, or ...

"Hey," Rose placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't stress. Phasma is way into that stuff so he usually gets his fix from her. Just keep off his radar."

Rose bent down beneath the desk, pulling out a handful of different phone charger wires.
"Here, you can plug in here."

Rey knelt, pulling the charger cord towards her with trembling hands. The vision of the muzzles and the knives still creeping around in her mind. She needed to get out of this. Maybe it was worth facing those men who had threatened her if she didn't pay her first installment. They would just beat her, and she could take a beating. What Snoke had planned for her thought … she wasn't sure she'd ever get over that. She tried to think of something else, focussing instead on Rose's bright smiling eyes. She was like a breath of fresh air in here.

"You seem normal, are you normal?" Rose asked.

Rey laughed, despite herself. "That depends on your definition of 'normal', but I guess so?"

"Oh, thank God. Me too. So what got you into the oldest profession in the world?"

"I owe money," Rey admitted. "Or, I should saymy parents owed money. I inherited the debt from them, and now the people they owed it to want it back. I've got a month to pay the first instalment."

"That blows," Rose said, her head dipped in a show of concern.

Rey turned away, she hated pity. She had travelled through life without it so far and the mere feeling of it pulled her chest tight.

"It is, what it is." Rey shrugged. "How about you?"

"I have a daughter." Rose's fingers toyed with a crescent moon charm around her neck as she spoke. "Well, she's not technically my daughter. She was my sister Paige's kid. She was killed in that bomb blast last year down by Resistance headquarters. Did you hear about it?"

Of course Rey had heard about it. July 22, the same day she had handed in her resignation at university. She had been walking home, vision blurred with pooling tears, when the blast had gone off. She had heard it from four blocks away, a shuddering thunder that made her duck for cover. The terrorist attack had killed 120 people and injured countless others. No one had ever claimed responsibility, but police officials suspected a rival political faction.

That day Rey had stared dumbfounded by the window of an electronics store, watching the scene play out on a dozen television screens, fire and smoke, body bundles hidden beneath bloody sheets, people crying wailing their stories to reporters with cut foreheads and red rivulets dried onto their skin. Rey shivered at the memory.

"I'm so sorry," Rey whispered. The words were inadequate, but she meant every word.

Rose's eyes misted with sorrow. There was love there, deep, immeasurable love. The kind she could never even hope to experience.

"I'm just trying to do the best by her. I want to be there for her during the day, you know? To make her feel like she's not alone." Rose clutched her hands together, as though she were pleading her case.

"I know, Rose," Rey answered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're doing a wonderful thing for her. She's lucky to have you. I wish I had a mother that loved me as much."

Rose stiffened at her touch, lips pressed tightly together while her nostrils quivered. Rose held that pose until at last she broke, a few stray tears running away from her measured composure.

"Gosh darn it, you've gone and made me cry, Rey!"

They laughed, the tension and emotion of the day shaking loose.

"Anyway, it's not all bad. Most of my clients are quite sweet. They just want someone to share with, you know? Loneliness is a bitch."

Rey nodded, eyes wide with a new appreciation of the woman before her. They had just met, but somehow Rey suspected she would come to love Rose like a sister.

It was then that the door handle rattled and the imposing stature of Phasma glared at them.

"Get out," she hissed. "What do you think you are doing in here?"

"Nothing, Phasma. I was showing Rey where she could plug in her phone."

Phasma inhaled a sharp breath through her nose and took a step back, allowing the two girls to exit. They did so in silence, heads downcast in order to avoid their madam's steely gaze. Phasma returned to her desk and began to sort tonight's client files.

"Rose, you've got a new one tonight, Dathomirian Zabrak."

"Okay, well that name sounds more than a little creepy."

Phasma ignored her. "And Rey, Kylo called. He's going to be late, but when he comes in he's asked that you warm up with a head job."

"Ugh! I hate head jobs!" Rose exclaimed. "And since when does Kylo Ren want anything other than a quick fuck."

Phasma glared at Rose, lips tightening, and Rose backed up with an apologetic smile.

"He's also asked you to read through the rules again."

She slipped the well-worn list to Rey, who took the sheet of paper in her hand. He would make her pay tonight. Whatever warped theory he had about her working with Snoke had made him pissed as hell. And then there was the small matter of her kneeing him in the groin today…

"Well?" Phasma asked, her tone clipped.

"No kissing, no hugging, no questions. Got it. "

"And no eye contact," Phasma added, testily. "This is your last chance tonight, you understand? Give him the best damn night of his life or you can find a new brothel."

"Fine," Rey said through gritted teeth, and for a moment the women just stared at each other, cobalt against amber, cold steel against fiery determination.

She began to back away, never taking her eyes of the sharpened owl-eye gaze of madam.

"Wait a minute." Phasma threw her a pink paper bag and Rey caught it instinctually. "He dropped these in for you this afternoon. Make sure you're wearing it when he comes in."

"Great," she muttered under her breath before she turned and marched up the stairs, each foot crashing with a dramatic thump on the step.

When she got to the black door that was her usual room, she yanked the handle down and kicked the door open, throwing her backpack in for good measure.

This fucking, stupid, revolting job. She leant back against the door and bashed the back of her arm hard against it. The movement had stung, but she didn't care. Pain was good. It gave expression to everything she was feeling. Sure, she had a temper and that spit-fire attitude had gotten her out of a lot of scrapes — and into them. But this feeling was something else, a seething, black rage, reserved in the vault in her mind for the most antagonising moments of her life.

Kylo fucking Ren . Her emotions pulled tight like a bowstring waiting to release. She whacked her elbow against the door again, adding a bang of her head in frustration. The pain cracked through her skull in an easing catharsis.

And that's when it caught her eye, peering down at her the same way it had two nights ago. That stupid ceiling mirror. But this was something she could focus on, and more than that, it was something she could control. She looked back to it again, lips curling in a growing smile.

—

He came to her just before nine. She had been waiting idly, doodling swirls in the rug by the fireplace when she heard the key turn.

The door cracked open, slowly at first, until the outline of Kylo Ren filled the door frame.

He was puffing, hair dishevelled like some stupid goth rock star. Rey had jumped to her feet, arms folded, a specially manufactured scowl she had designed just for this moment. Their eyes met and hers narrowed threateningly. She had meant to look formidable, but then the fact she was standing there in her knickers, lessened the effect somewhat.

He smirked at her. Looking as though he'd just won a bet that she was not privy to.

"Hello, Rey." That voice, that low intoxicating grow.

She didn't reply, instead glaring at him as she tightened the line between her brows.

"You look—" he paused for effect, making a point of grazing his eyes along her wiry sun-kissed body. "Lovely."

She snorted, ready to hit him with a sharp barb when he started unbuttoning his shirt in a rush.

Rey's body clenched . He hadn't even shut the door. Her heart reverberated in her chest, an empty drum pounding away, loud enough that she felt it drumming in her ears. Once he had finished, he pulled his shirt off his shoulders and threw it towards the bed. She followed it with her eyes and felt a small glimmer of triumph when he missed his mark.

And there they were again, standing in the same places. This time he was bare-chested and brazen. His torso heaved with every slow breath and she found herself focussing on the way his trtrapeziususcles framed his long neck, the sculpted bumps of his abs and the narrowed-waist, and the small trail of hair that disappeared beneath his belt.

He was ripped. Most girls would have been into that. But not her. She swallowed before pulling her eyes up to his face again. She wasn't affected by any of it, not his body, not his lips that were far too soft, the gentle line of his jaw, the beauty marks dotted like stardust across his face, or the dark energy that always seemed to radiate from him.

His eyes were ravenous and darker than ever, feasting on her every feature. The underwear he had bought for her to wear was … okay . She had held her breath as she peeked in the bag and was surprised to find a dark ivory bra and panties made of natural cotton with a little bit of lace, and no padding. They were comfortable, simple but elegant. Flattering the natural shape of her body, rather than pushing her into something she wasn't. She wondered if she was allowed to take them home with her, not that she wanted them she reminded herself.

Anyway, he clearly liked them, because as he is eyes burned over her body, there was a flicker of movement in his pants, the material tenting below his belt.

Rey looked away indignantly, but her body responded differently, she felt her abdomen tighten and her nipples peak into tight buds, and then there was that feeling in her core, deep within, pulsing and hungry. Traitor! She hissed in her mind.

He strode towards her, that uneven gate noticeable out of the corner of her eye. He was awkward, she thought. Like he'd never gotten used to the size of his body. Those slow heavy steps stopped before her, waiting.

"Look at me."

She stiffened, raising her chin to glare at him. Ignoring the way the corners of his mouth twitched at her petulant teenage-scowl.

"What about the rules ?" she asked, impertantly.

"I doubt you were ever one to follow rules."

She rolled her eyes. Who was this guy and how dare he assume he knew anything about—

"Now, when you're finished acting like an audacious teenager, you can take off your bra."

She gaped, grappling for an insult to cut him down with.

"Take it off." he said with a menacing rumble. An order, and a warning.

Rey inhaled. Crossing her arms tightly around her chest. Probably not the best idea since it forced a cleavage on her chest that wouldn't otherwise have been there.

"Go on," that low voice melted into her.

She pulled her arms back, unclasping the bra from behind and letting it fall off her shoulders.

"Give it to me." He reached forward.

Rey threw the bra as hard as she could. He snuffled a laugh as he caught it, bringing the delicate material to his face. Breathing in her scent.

He came closer. "Now take off my pants."

She hesitated, and he dropped his head lower, dark hair falling around his face, his eyes pinned to her, daring her to obey or refuse—either way, he'd win.

Rey came at him, and reached out to unbuckle his belt. She tried to ignore the way his body obviously hungered for her. Once the belt was unclasped, she yanked his trousers to the floor. There was a fleeting flinch on his face but he hid it quickly.

He lowered his voice to a whisper.

"You know what to do, Rey"

Fucking hell .

She felt the blood rushing around her brain, mind roaring with a wave of anger as she stiffly lowered onto her knees. He looked at her from above, waiting patiently with that satisfied smirk looking over her.

"I'm not swallowing."

He the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. "We'll see."

Rey pushed down the lump in her throat, face to face with his cock, peeking out at her like some moray eel. She took him in her hands, not too gently.

"Easy tiger."

She glared at him again, and this time his lips parted in a wide smile that flashed uneven teeth. It was a transforming expression, making him look younger, kinder even. An illusion.

"What's so funny?" She huffed, pulling back from him.

"You," he said. "You're shit at this."

"I haven't even started yet."

"You do get what a sex worker does, don't you?"

"Of course I get it," she spat the words at him. This was not going well, Phasma would kick her arse onto the street if she could see them now. She took him again in her hands. "Now hold still, so I can…"

He strained out a laugh and Rey slammed her hands hard against the floor. "What's the problem?"

"You hate being told what to do. The whole point of this job is to take orders from clients, listen to their sexual desires and then, surprise , give it to them—all the while acting like it's just what you want, or did you miss the memo?"

"It's a bit hard to pretend you want it when you're dealing with a—" she caught herself from releasing the insult.

"What was that, sweetheart?"

Rey groaned. "Would you just let me get this over with already?"

She kneeled closer to him, gently putting both hands on his sides and directing his body closer to her. Softly, her fingers gripped the base of his shaft and she leaned in, the whisper of her breath brushing against him. His cock twitched at her closeness, engorged and hungry. She dipped her head forward, sliding her tongue around him and he groaned at the feel of it.

So, he thought she was shit at this? We'd see about that, she thought.

Rey parted her lips, sliding him into her mouth, taking as much of him as she could. His fingers worked their way into her thick brown waves. She rolled her tongue along him with every thrust. His hands kneaded into her hair, guiding her head as she pushed forward and back against him.

He sighed with a heavy breath.

"Fuck, Rey," he whispered, voice hoarse and pushed to the edge.

Encouraged by his reaction, she fell into a steady rhythm, all the while he massaged his fingers into her hair, releasing her buns, pulling her harder against him. His breath coming in steady, wanting heaves.

"Slow down, it feels too…"

She ignored him, taking him further into her mouth.

"Rey…" His voice was barely above a whisper, strained with control.

Shit indeed , she thought triumphantly. She built the inttensity as he clutched at her harder.

"Rey!" he said more urgently, pulling her back a little, but not enough to stop the act.

"Whaa," she asked, her voice muffled with him in her mouth.

"What happened to the mirror?"

She shrugged her shoulders, continuing to work on him.

"The mirror above the bed. Where is it?"

She pulled back as his dark eyes consumed her with a wild hunger, just held back from the brink of going mad with it.

"Are you seriously asking me that right now?'

"Forget it." He cupped her face within his hands, staring at her with a wild yearning in his eyes. "Keep going."

She parted her lips again and circled around his head, his hands wantingly clutching at her curls, moving her head along the waves of her motion.

"I took it down," she told him between thrusts. "And I ditched the hidden camera too."

"You what?" he pulled her head back again.

"I said I pulled down the camera behind the mirror. I didn't agree to being filmed."

"There are no cameras in these rooms."

"What do you call that then?" Rey pointed to the small coffee table by the fireplace. She had spent a good 45 minutes pulling the overhead mirror down. Not caring about the consequences in her seething rage. You're probably getting fired tonight anyway, she thought bitterly.

And, that's when she had found the tiny convex glass pointed down at the bed—at her and him. The discovery had made her ropable. The thought that Kylo could watch them after … But now it seemed, he was not the one watching and the realisation of that was a thousand times worse.

Kylo pulled away from her, storming over to the table. Rey was amazed he had the discipline to stop, hanging over the cliff of his own personal pleasure. She didn't think she would have had the strength had their roles been reversed.

"How did you know it was there?" he asked, scooping up the small device within his hands, the wires cascading through his fingers.

"I didn't," she pulled herself to stand.

He turned the parts over in his hands (and yes, she had disasembled it too). His whole body seeming to shake as he met her eyes.

"This shouldn't be here…"

"Well, somebody's watching—and I'll give you one guess who it is."

"Yeah," his voice was muffled.

He turned back to face her. Their eyes meeting across the distance of darkness.

"You didn't tell Snoke anything, did you?"

Rey shook her head and Kylo's jaw tightened as he faced the moon-stained window, face crossed in shadows. His lips parted, exposing the way his teeth gripped together.

She could almost feel his heat and rage, tactile and visceral. He returned, her own dark sun, smoldering with liquid fire with gravity that tied her to his orbit

Without a word, Rey began to kneel again.

"Stop." He stepped back from her. "It isn't necessary. It was—a misunderstanding."

Rey got to her feet again, eyes brushing over his face once more. Haunted and lost. How could he look so terrifying and vulnerable in the space of a few moments? She got lost in the expressions of his face. Wondering how he'd gotten himself into this twisted mess too. Was there a chance he was a victim, just like her? .

A burst of heavy metal music erupted between them and they jumped. Kylo grabbed his pants from the floor, searching through the pockets before he extracted his phone.

"What?" he demanded brusquely, as he walked towards the window with the phone pressed against his ear.

Rey sat back on the bed, trying not to look at his naked form silouetted against the window. He certainly had no shame about his body, not that he had any reason to. She fidgeted, straining to hear every word.

"No, I told you, I'm not working tonight."

Kylo began to pull his clothes on while holding the phone against his ear.

"Well, get Hux to do it."

Another pause. He looked at her, his scowl softening as their eyes met.

The voice on the other end grew loud enough for her to hear muffled yells and Kylo hissed.

"Fine, I'll be there in a minute."

He hung up the phone and slipped it back in his pocket. "I have to go."

"Right, okay," Rey fumbled the words. He had a habit of leaving her alone here, and for some reason that made her feel—she didn't know what it made her feel but it was unsettling. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Relax. Do what you want. I'll be back later. Then we can—" His cheeks burned as his words trailed off.

"Sure, whatever you want," she answered in a rush, equally feeling the heat in her cheeks..

His lips experimenting with an uncertain smile and then closed the door behind him, leaving Rey alone.

The room fell silent in his absence, somehow lighter but at the same time colder. She prodded the fire with a poker, embers dancing furiously before her. Rey lost herself in that fire and darkness, her thoughts moving erratically like the smouldering spots of floating flames.

She thought about the baleful look of shame on Kylo Ren's face, the gentleness of his words and then there was the way he looked at her with simmering desire. No one had ever looked at her like that. In fact, no one had even found her desirable before. It was a strange thing to be wanted, even if it was just in a sexual way.

But was that all it was? There were times when she thought there was something heavier in his gaze, a starvation and depravity of companionship, of touch… of love, of all the things she lay awake at night dreaming of.

She hadn't pulled him to the brink of ecstasy just because he told her so, or to prove him wrong. There was something far deeper buried beneath her motive that she dare not address, an abyss in her heart that had been longing for so much more than what she had. Despite her words and actions, a sleeping desire had surged in her as she pleasured him.

She wanted to do it. She wanted to see him crest, and peak, and break because of her.

Those thoughts were wrong, stray and wild, she thought. An animalistic desire she had never known before. She pushed it away.

She didn't want him. Not in that way. Not in any way.

And yet … her eyes lingered on the door, waiting and wondering if he would come charging back in here. She drifted her fingers down to her pants and felt the moisture pooling there.

Indeed her body was a traitor. A wild, unquenchable traitor who did not understand that Kylo was the enemy.