Chapter 3: The Lure

Rey knew hers was a dangerous path. Kylo Ren was no simple opponent and overcoming him had taken months of planning, and many failed attempts. She had never told any of the others of the true intent of her plan. They would never have agreed, would have told her it was far too dangerous. Bringing him to the side of Light was the only path forward for her, a goal she would never abandon. She hadn't planned on the draw of the Dark Side being so great, the draw through him. Their bond pulled in both directions she knew, but his was incredibly strong and growing stronger. At every touch of their skin, she had nearly been lost in him, struggling to hold in her heart the suffering of so many that she was trying to free. Every touch had formed a bond, another thread binding her to him. Surely he'd felt it, too, with each connection, each touch.

Now she came closer to him once again, climbing onto the iron throne, placing a knee on either side of his hips, his hands helpless to fend her off or to grab her knife or saber. She sat, straddled across him, feeling all of the hardness of his muscles, rigid and tense.

"No," he said, his head thrashing as he tried to avoid her touching his skin anymore. Her mouth caught his and crushed him back into the throne, his words now drowned by her mouth, her kiss. He dared not bite down, but instead stopped the struggle. Once he was still, she pulled back and ran her tongue from his mouth to his earlobe.

His lips were not at all cold like she'd imagined, but hot, swollen, and firey. She wanted to defeat him, to subdue him, to suffocate him with her power.

No, no, no, his inner voice screamed as his body ignored years of conditioning and buzzed with the stimulation, his ears flooding with blood and every fiber down to his toes on high alert. She would ruin him, despoil the perfection that he'd achieved, the detachment that bolstered his power, his relentless focus on his own wants and ambitions. Her look of smug satisfaction told him he was doing a poor job of hiding his reactions, and his horror of those reactions, from her. He mustn't yield his power so easily.

"You taste of nutrition bars, Kylo. How long has it been since you've eaten decent food, real food, not more protein drinks and nutrition cakes, but something that you would want to eat, grown on a farm, fed by a star? Can you even remember the taste, the feeling of the sustenance within you?"

She penetrated his mind as it flooded with childhood memories of fruits picked from the kang-kang tree that grew beside his home and meats his father cooked over a fire and shared with him, teaching him how to roast it properly, warm but not burned. "Such food is decadence, worthless gluttony."

"Even now, you maintain your discipline, denying the world to yourself even as you conquer it. And for what? To find the next planet, enslave its people, contaminate the land. Then you turn it inside out mining the metals to build more ships, manned with your slaves, to then attack the next. Endlessly." Her fingers now drifted downward, across his chest, stroking his nipples, now hardened with anticipation, sending waves of energy through him. "It will never end, Kylo. There will always be another planet, always another person plotting to bring you down. What kind of life is that?"

His words fell from his lips, shaking. "You and I, Rey, we aren't like others. We are superior, destined to rule. I would rather spend my life doing what it takes to remain as I am than spend a minute living under someone else's thumb!"

Her hand drifted back upwards, tracing the line of his jaw, until her thumb rested on his lip. He longed to bite it off, but dreaded what she might do. She meant it as humiliation, a reminder of her power over him now, but instead the touch set off a spark in him.

She felt the quiver of his lip at her touch, saw the confusion in his eyes, both his rage and resistance and his growing desire. She continued her exploration down his ribs, to his waist and hips. She scooted herself back a bit, looking pointedly at his crotch.

He resisted mightily the swelling of his cock, but it was useless. She grinned maliciously and gripped him through the fabric, a look of ultimate victory over an opponent plastered across her face as she violated him. He groaned in anger as his body continued to betray him, his erection growing under her fingers as she released the fasteners of his trousers, his full hardness now nakedly on display.

She stood then, and drew the dagger from her leg holster. She laughed, seeing his fear grow from resistance to a storm, his thrashing useless to protect any part of his body. She lifted her leg and put a foot on the seat of his throne, then drew the dagger slowly, carefully down the crotch of her bodysuit, the fabric yielding noiselessly to the sharp blade.

Her real intention clear, his fear broke over him. "No, no, never," he said raggedly, as she ran her hands up and down the length of him, furthering his erection to its fullest and most generous size. He could not stop her and could not stop his own reactions. She put her face next to his, the pressure of her body on his chest as he tried to calm his mind, to allow in some kind of thought that would save him, but none came. Her tongue in his ear only made things worse. He closed his eyes, tried to block out her presence, tried to draw from the Force, but her teeth biting his earlobe made him buck, sending his cock sliding into her warm, wet folds. Her bite subsided as she let forth with a moan of surprise and pleasure and seated herself more firmly on his pelvis. She arose again, dragging herself along his whole length, then plunged downward once again until he was buried inside her.

She hadn't meant to enjoy, hadn't expected pleasure only duty. But seeing his body, having him in her power was thrilling in a way that victory in a duel was not. Perhaps this was the lure of the Dark Side, enjoyment of other's pain, particularly that which gave you pleasure. She reminded herself that her goals required this, that she was fighting for freedom, but the fact that this struggle brought her such surprising satisfaction worried her.

He was being destroyed, his years of training, of fighting, of discipline being overcome. She continued to surround him, her hands stroking his neck and back, her kisses on his neck as he writhed, her body on his as he bucked, her muscles strong across him.

"Yes, Kylo, it feels even better when you fight me," she growled. He was at a loss, as he could not stop trying to wrestle away fruitlessly, but knowing at the same time it was exactly what she wanted. There was no way to win. He gave in finally, allowing the sensations of his body to simply flow over him, letting her kiss his mouth. She continued, stroking the length of his cock fully, as his breathing became more and more shallow, the pressure growing greater as she moved. He could feel her clench and he found it even more difficult to breath. The welling up inside him crashed over into an explosion matched by his own shout, part release, part dismay. She didn't stop, didn't rest as his climax burst, but instead rode him ever harder until she, too, screamed out, hers in pleasure, her insides clenching rhythmically around his still-throbbing cock. The rest of his body then fell, the tension subsiding into exhaustion.

Author's note: Your review, public or in PM, is most welcomed.