I couldn't sleep. The sheets chafed, so I kicked them off, tossing and turning for what felt like hours. I lay in the darkness, repeating every word we'd said to each other, cursing myself and what I'd told him I wanted.
I didn't want to have an arrangement. That was the last thing I wanted. But, I'd been so hurt, so angry that I hadn't stopped the venom I spewed at him. He was right, he hadn't broken any rules, and according to every report I'd ever gotten, he'd remained unwaveringly faithful to me, despite the fact that we hadn't...well, that we weren't…
My traitorous body ached for him, warmth and wetness pooling between my legs whenever I thought of him, of what we hadn't done. My anatomy books explained this as arousal, so I at least understood the reaction. But, the books never mentioned that wanting someone so badly could be physically painful, unbearable, or that it would keep you up at night.
Bloody hell, I'd told him I wanted an arrangement. And, he hadn't said...anything. He hadn't immediately rejected the idea, or told me that an arrangement wasn't what he wanted, he hadn't taken me into his arms and kissed me, assuring me that I was what he wanted.
He'd just said 'fine'.
I let my head fall back against the pillows.
Fine.
The room was smothering, suffocating, my body flushed, my breathing uneven.
A knock sounded on the door and I tensed, sucking in a breath. He was still in the sitting room? He hadn't left? I sighed in what could only be relief. He wasn't with Kateria, or Mayea, despite the fact that I'd given him permission to be.
I got out of bed, still in nothing but my white, cotton underwear, and pulled the lock back. My hands shook as I turned the handle, the hinges creaking as I pulled the door open a crack.
His russet eyes rooted me to the spot, breaking through my anger and defensiveness with their wordless plea. His face was pale, his hair ruffled, but he didn't move, he didn't break his stare. He was waiting. Waiting for an invitation that he would never ask for.
Because it was my decision. I knew that one word, and he'd leave. He'd let me shut the door, slide the lock back, and he wouldn't push it.
I was having difficulty swallowing, my blood rushing, my breathing still uneven, and that ache for him so deep, so insistent, it was an effort to focus on anything else.
If he sensed it, he didn't let on, staring at me with his hands braced on either side of the wooden frame, that silent question still between us.
I pushed the door open and stepped back, making no move to cover myself or stop him as he crossed the threshold.
"I'm sorry." He said, his voice a choked whisper. "Ovadia is a princess, and I don't know her situation, so I didn't know what the party would be, but I should have at least warned you of what it could be." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I told you when we first got married that I wasn't going to just throw you in and hope for the best, but that's exactly what I did tonight, and I'm sorry." He let out a breath, his gaze dropping. "I don't know who you met." He said. "Who I've…"
"Kateria." I answered.
He closed his eyes, sighing through his nose. Then nodded, swallowing thickly. "She's married to Rohlin, the King of Stewjon."
"Coradine."
"The Queen of Kamino." He muttered.
"How many are there?" I asked, pretty sure I wanted to hear the answer.
He kept his gaze down. "How many have I been with? How many was I seeing before we got married? How many did I have long term affairs with? I don't know what you're asking me."
I considered my question carefully. If I asked him, he would tell me the truth. But, what part of the truth mattered to me? "Did you love any of them?
"No." He answered. "We went into it knowing exactly what it was, it didn't mean anything. They were using me just as much as I was using them."
"Have you ever….made love to anyone?"
He looked up, and he left his eyes open, unshielded, left the truth that I could see as plainly as though it were written there. He'd never made love to anyone because he'd never been in love with anyone. Only me. "No." He said, with a slight shake of his head.
"How many were you...seeing….before we got married?"
"It's not that simple." He insisted. "I had a few long term arrangements, but most of them were just whenever we happened to be in the same place at the same time."
I flinched and it visibly hit him.
"I hate hurting you." He said, his voice a broken plea. "And, I'm sorry. If I'd known, if I had the slightest inkling that…" he let out a shaking breath, and I could see him trembling. "I didn't know that they'd force me to get married. I didn't know that it would be to someone as innocent as you are and I didn't know, would have never even dreamed that I'd..." He sighed, choking on the words he wasn't ready to say.
I realized then that in this, he was just as inexperienced as I was, despite being ten years older. He didn't know what to say or how to act, and it didn't matter how many people he'd slept with, because we were both in love for the first time, together. And, it was just as terrifying for him as it was for me.
"If I'd known that you were what was meant for me, if I'd known that I would….feel this way, I wouldn't have even looked at those women, I swear." He was beginning to crumble. "But, I didn't know. I...I didn't think that this was even possible." Of course he hadn't thought it was possible to love his wife, to want to be faithful to his wife. I hadn't thought it was possible to love the man I was married to, either.
I went to him, and put my hands on either side of his face, shushing him softly. When his eyes came to mine, they were red and glassy. "I don't care how many there were." I told him, and meant it. "I don't care what you've done, I don't need to know what you've done, just...warn me, ok?"
He nodded. "I can do that." But, he frowned, his forehead puckering. "Do you really want an arrangement?"
I shook my head, my heart breaking as I realized that what I'd said earlier hurt him. "No." He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. I rose up on my toes, putting an arm around his shoulders, and cupped his cheek with my other hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He looked at me, his arms going around my waist. "I only want you." I assured him. "It's only ever been you."
His lips caught mine with a groan and his tongue darted into my mouth when I relaxed my jaw, melting against him. Every thought eddied out of my head, all that was left, all that mattered was the taste of him, the heat from his body, his rough hands fanning out against the bare skin of my back.
He deepened the kiss, crushing me to him, and I dragged my fingernails down the t-shirt covering his shoulders, his back. He broke away with a hiss that turned into a moan, his body arching, and my eyebrows shot up.
He liked being scratched.
When his mouth found mine again, it was a clash of tongues and teeth, of pants and sighs. I gripped the tail of his shirt and pulled it up, breaking away just long enough to get it off.
I moved to kiss him again, but he pulled back, his breathing ragged. "What's ok?" He panted. The inevitable conversation about what I was comfortable doing.
My knees were surprisingly steady as I took a step back, then another, not taking my gaze from his. He watched me, his eyes darkening as the backs of my thighs hit the mattress, and I slowly sank onto the bed. I didn't break my stare as I pushed myself back to recline against the pillows, my heart thundering so loud, I'm sure he could hear it.
"Come to bed." I told him in a hoarse whisper.
He took slow steps as he obeyed, bending down, to put his hands, then his knees into the mattress, and crawled across the bed. My mouth went dry watching his arms, chest and shoulders, as his pale skin rippled over those powerful cords of muscle. His eyes smoldered as he stopped inches from my face, and I bent my knees to cradle him between my thighs.
I leaned forward, but he pulled back.
"What do you want me to do?" He asked, his voice so guttural I barely recognized it.
"I want-" My already flushed face blazed with a blush.
Something shifted in his expression. "We don't have to do anything." He said, gently.
I clamped my knees down on his hips when he went to back away, locking him in place. "No, I want to." I said, firmly. "I want this. I want you. I just don't know how to say what I want you to do."
He lowered himself, bracing his weight on his right side so he wouldn't crush me. "Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked, nuzzling my throat.
I swallowed. "Yes."
He pressed a kiss to my neck, my shoulder, sucking gently on my collar bone. I whimpered, the heat between my legs throbbing.
"Do you want me to touch you?" He asked, his lips against the shell of my ear.
I nodded once. "Yes."
He lifted his left hand, offering it to me. "Show me where."
My breathing hitched, and I locked my gaze with his as I took his hand in my own and lowered it to my breast. "Here." I said.
He hummed his understanding, dusting my jaw with featherlight kisses.
I pushed his hand down, brushing my stomach, my hip, then along my leg. "Here."
He hummed again, his teeth gently scraping at the skin of my throat.
I took a breath. I was going to combust, I knew it. I was going to burn alive with the need of him. "And here." I rasped, deliberately placing his hand over the mound between my thighs.
He went rigid, pulling away to look at me with wide eyes. "Rey, are-"
"Yes, I'm sure." I sighed.
His throat bobbed. "Over the panties or under?"
My heart stuttered, and I had to take a few deep breaths before answering with "Under."
He moved his hand up to my face. "Look at me." I did, locking eyes with him through my lust. "If it's too much, or if I hurt you, promise you'll stop me."
I nodded. "I promise."
His lips came to mine in a kiss that was both passionate and soft. I slid my arms around his shoulders and opened my mouth to him, caressing his tongue with my own. His hand traced a line down my jaw, my throat, along my shoulder, and finally cupped my breast. I arched into him, his touch sending shivers through my blood as he dragged his knuckles over my nipple, the sensitive flesh peaking.
He broke away, leaving me panting as he lowered his mouth onto that nipple and gently sucked. I gasped, my fingers knotting in his hair as I bucked against him. I wanted him closer, I needed to feel him.
His calluses scraped the inside of my thigh, and I couldn't breathe as he eased my trembling legs apart, couldn't breathe as he moved the crotch of my panties to the side, his fingertips stroking up and down. He let out a sound from the back of his throat. "Fuck, you're wet." He growled.
I tensed, clenching my legs together. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." He said, breathlessly. "You're supposed to be wet. It's your body's normal reaction to what we're doing."
I relaxed, and his fingers slowly slid down. I felt him spread my outer lips apart, my hips bucked, as he dragged along that throbbing, aching part of me.
Please. Please. Please.
His finger slipped inside, and I writhed the intrusion, a groan rupturing out of me. He swore, and began pumping in and out in soft, slow strokes. I closed my eyes, and just let myself feel. His warm hand between my thighs, his finger inside me, stretching me, filling me, his hot breath against my skin, and his lips as he peppered my neck, shoulders, and chest with kisses. I let myself feel the pleasure he sent through my body, opening fully to him as tiny moans poured out of me.
Something was building within me, something just beyond my reach.
"That's it." He breathed, as if he could feel it, too. I opened my eyes to see him watching me, his eyes now blazing.
I started shaking, not the anxious trembling from before, but an uncontrollable quake. Then, it was too much, the sensation almost painful with its intensity. And, I broke.
I bowed off the bed, crying out as I was swept up in a crashing wave of pleasure and release. Kylo crushed his mouth onto mine, swallowing my cries. I shuddered and twitched, clenching down onto the finger still stroking me, until I collapsed back onto the bed, limp and reeling.
My chest was heaving, i couldn't breathe fast enough, couldn't piece my mind back together. He withdrew, drawing one more shudder out of me. I couldn't move, couldn't remember how to move. I was vaguely aware when he pulled the blanket over me, and tucked me into his arms, barely registered the kiss he planted on the top of my head, and didn't hear what he whispered into my hair before sleep found me.