Kylo catches her hands in his before her limbs can turn into a flurry of blows against him.

"You're keeping me here," Rey hisses, thrashing against his grip with what he knows is only a small portion of her strength.

Clearly not a full-hearted effort at resistance. That's very intriguing. Not just the notion that she thinks so much of him that he might actually be strong enough tokeep her here against her will, but also that she was very much not truly trying to leave.

"I'm not," he promises. "I didn't create this. Not this time."

"You did."

"I didn't."

He didn't, actually. Since Crait he'd been trying and trying and trying to open up a connection with her, his now rather malice-filled favorite scavenger, but up until he'd felt the familiar thrum of her presence besides him in the elevator he'd been completely blocked out of her side.

He lets go of her hands, his palms tingling from their brief moment of contact. Then he steps back to give her the space she demands, but she stops him with one hand balled on the center of his shirt and the other held aloft in unspoken threat. But she doesn't strike him, or at least not yet.

Something has changed between them in those brief moments of contact. Before, during their earlier Force connections, it had felt like an echo. A close echo, as if Rey was speaking in an adjoining room, but there had always been several degrees of separation. Now it feels real. As if he had somehow pulled her through time and space and literally brought her to him.

The moment grows along with the silence. Rey glares up at him, but she's standing so close it's as if he can hear her heartbeat in his own veins. Kylo, for his part, can barely control just how delighted he is to finally see her again.

He smiles. Her eyes narrow.

The static of the ruined elevator control panel hisses, then sparks twice before finally fully burning itself out. Neither one of them so much as blink.

"Kriff."

This time Rey kisses him. She yanks him forward with the Force which is something she absolutely shouldn't be able to do through the unique nature of their connection. And then her hand, her free hand, grabs him roughly by his collar and drags him chokingly down to meet her lips.

Her kiss is very messy and angry. Clearly she doesn't know what she's doing and that makes him grin and their kiss quickly degrades from an angry smacking to a rough and abrasive press as she grinds her lips against his own.

When she pulls back his mouth feels bruised and her face is flushed so deeply it looks like she's wearing rouge.

"There," she says, "I won. You did it first, but I did it better. Take that."

...perfect.

He doesn't say it aloud but he doesn't have to. Her eyes widen in outrage, but her protest suddenly dies out in a skid of half-formed words as their bond begins to wrap itself around them, transforming from an invisible wire to a heavy, insistent embrace. Rey stumbles, apparently caught off guard, only to literally fall into Kylo arms.

This touch feels nothing like the last. Every part of Kylo that contacts with Rey tingles, electricity shooting across his skin even through the layers of both their outer garments.

He expects retaliation. Or maybe an even worse a silence that stretches forever as their connection fades.

Rey closes her mouth. Both his brush over her mind and her new expression give him nothing.

"You kriffing idiot. You're sick in the head, aren't you?"

He blinks. She's just figuring that out now? But when she slaps him again, he smiles.

"You're not leaving."

That was the final clue. Kylo had begun to suspect something was amiss, but Rey's rather out of character reaction to his advances had eradicated every shadow of a doubt.

This was a dream. His dream, obviously, but that meant little. He was here, and so was she, and if this was his dreams than he was free to manipulate it however he sees fit.

"Kiss me again," he orders, leaning down to ghost his lips over her own. "Kiss me or leave, because I don't have time for you if you don't want this like I do."

He catches every nuance of the decision as it forms inside her. It starts with her trademark scowl. Trademark when it comes to regarding him, at least, though right now Kylo chooses to interpret that he's been granted his own expression as an odd sort of honor. Then her lips turn down but there's a soft sort of pout to them, the kind that makes him want to do something about it. Finally there's the hitch in her breath and the feeling of her shoulders tightening up under his touch as she prepares herself for-

For kissing him again. That's apparently the decision she comes to and it must be as much of a surprise to her as it is to him because her breath catches in her throat and all Kylo can hear is the rapidly spiking pace of her pulse as she runs her lips over his.

It starts off as a wet sort of press of mouth to mouth. Pleasurable thanks to the enthusiastic momentum of their bond, but not the most compelling. She seems uncertain, and that thought alone is enough to make Kylo inwardly crow as he takes the lead and she lets him.

He lets go of one of her wrists, switching his other hand to hold them both in a gesture that's more about a show of dominance than any way of effectively keeping her from running. Rey squirms, pulling away by just a hair to pant and blink up at him. The look in her slitted eyes is everything he's ever fantasized about.

"Like this, Rey. Follow my lead."

He cradles her chin, drawing her face up again. Rey shivers, a glimpse into her mind opening up for just long enough to feel both her nerves and her anticipation.

Kylo can't decide how he wants to kiss her again. He starts to dominate, starts to push her in little ways to give in, but the moment Rey sighs into his mouth something inside him breaks.

He has her lifted and pinned to the wall before he can stop himself. Rey hangs there, supported by both the force and his thigh rudely shoved between her legs, and she tries in a rather dizzy and half-hearted looking manner to glare up at him.

"I didn't say you could do that," she whines.

Kylo grins. He can feel her weight, slight though it is, leaning against him. Exactly like she was really here with him, now so much more than a Force projection or a conjuration of his mind. Something real and solid and so very enticing that Kylo can't resist it anymore.

He lets go of her to wrap his arms around her waist, lifting her up higher so he can slot himself between her spread legs. Rey squeaks, her knees coming up to circle his waist but she resists his next effort to push himself into her mind and find out what she really thinks about all of this.

Right. Dreams don't have minds. Pity.

"Rey."

He presses his lips to hers sweetly, the urge to devour her slowly pushing aside his earlier frantic need to possess.

This time her lips meet his equally, trying to match his kiss move for move. He nips at the flesh of her mouth and she opens willingly for him, shivering slightly as his tongue works its way along her own. And then she pulls back, her breath still fogging in the air between them.

"Camera," she whispers.

Kylo frowns, too little blood entering his brain to make sense of the strange hieroglyphs she speaks of.

Rey rolls her eyes and he kisses the bridge of her nose.

"The security camera," she clarifies. "I think it's still on."

It takes a few beats to register. Oh. Right. His last memory before falling under this dream trance had been going down from his private chambers. The elevator had a security camera and he'd smashed the floor control but not it. Which means that, right now, ship security was probably getting a candid view of their great Supreme Leader acting like an idiot while French kissing and dry humping the thin air. It's not like they exactly respected him before, but still…

Kylo smiles lopsidedly, letting go of Rey with one arm to raise his hand in the air between them. Rey makes the most adorable little 'yip' noise he could ever imagine and her arms wrap around his neck to support herself.

He snaps his fingers, crushing the camera in a instant. Rey raises her eyebrows, the left one lofting much higher than the right.

"You really have no problem with trashing your own ship, do you?"

Kylo's face isn't especially used to smiling. That's probably why his cheeks hurt as he grins, wolfishly, down at her.

"It's just us now," he says, earning himself his biggest eye roll yet.

Next he bounces her, testing both her weight and his grip on her. Rey huffs, whether impatient or annoyed with him or undoubtedly both, but she falls relatively slack in his arms. One of her hands even flexes in its grip around him, now balling up the fabric of his cowl tighter in her grip.

"You're wearing too much," she comments dryly.

Kylo laughs. It hurts his face even more, but every part of this is perfect and worth it and he'd give anything for.

"You're very demanding for a dream, aren't you?"

He'd always assumed Rey would… well, in his fantasies, he pictured her behaving many different ways. The angry dominatrix Rey. The oddly matter of fact mistress Rey. The sweet, innocent, exquisitely tight and fresh virginal Rey.

This Rey, however, was none of those things. What she was, was very true to his last memories of her. He supposes that makes sense, but when one of her legs kicks out only to hit him firmly in a sensive part of his backside he starts to wish he could sway her to be a little more agreeable.

"Shall we start again?" he offers.

Up goes the eyebrows. Kylo bites back the urge to kiss the vertical lines pressing itself between them.

Rey looks down, appearing to consider the nature of his clothing. She tugs on his cowl. Tugs harder. The fabric of it rasps against his neck, and he lets her go with one arm to help her untie the shawl before she chokes him with it.

They drop it together and her hand moves to his collar, her nimble little fingers darting under the band of it and, for the briefest of moments, a rather erotic choking fantasy flutters around his mind before he can contain it.

"Your turn next, Scavenger," he says, bouncing her again to make her hand withdraw.

Rey sighs and pouts. Her breath washes across his face and Kylo either can't or doesn't try to stop himself from kissing her again.

This time it's better. Sweeter. Somewhat sweeter. Still angry and messy, but with more of a pleasant attempt behind the movements of their lips.

Then Kylo remembers that this is his own damned sex dream, and he should at least control the pace of things if not his fantasy parteners responses.

Rey squeaks into his mouth when he bites her lower lip, and he wastes no opportunity to plunge his tongue inside and run it along her own. He wills, commands, her not to bite him back but she seems too distracted by his hand stroking along her arm and collar.

Hesitantly, she starts to kiss him back. Timid, uncertain moves like he's always imagined from her. Good. That part is going to plan, at least. When he pulls away, the edge of her coat trapped between his fingers, she even follows him with her mouth before catching herself.

"Why is it like this?" she asks.

There's a breathy tone to her voice that hadn't been there before. Maybe it had been a better kiss than he'd realized.

"Gods Rey," he murmurs, his lips skimming over hers as he glides her coat free from her. "If this was real, things would be very different right now, do you know that?"

She looks up at him then. Even as a figment of a dream she remains an enigma, the expression on her face neither one of anger or passion but somewhere caught in between.

"Would it?"

One kiss. Simple. Sweet. Too soft for the occasion.

"Yes."

"How?"

This time, this time, there's no mistaking the slight lilt in her voice. It's a dare. A challenge. Show me.

Well, it's not like the 'becoming her teacher' fantasy had been one of the most regular scenarios in Kylo's backlog of dirty thoughts of his scavenger. Perhaps his subconscious is finally catching up, providing him with the most vivid dream he's had of her to date.

Hands and lips tangle together as he pins her against the wall, separating only to peel off one layer of clothing at a time. It's both frenzied and deliberate, with a careful detail spent on warming Rey up to the idea of this.

Warming up a dream? What a ridiculous notion. But it feels right for the moment. In his mind Kylo has had her in nearly every way, but he always embarrassingly seems to fall back to a space like this. It's like memorizing how the pieces of a puzzle fit together. When he kisses or strokes the right spot, he knows Rey would gasp or shiver, so that's what she does in his mind now.

Kylo had meant what he'd said. If she was actually here, this would have gone very differently. They would be screwing properly, in his room where he could find a way to keep her afterwards. And he would be much, much slower with everything.

He sets a fast pace to their initial lovemaking, but even that too becomes sweeter by the minute. Sometimes, when he allows it, Rey takes charge and grind or buck against him in the way he assumes women would like.

Some part of the back of his mind acknowledges how ridiculous he would look now, undulating naked against the wall. But he's also the Supreme Leader, and he's earned this. If he wants to sleep sex his fantasy girl not one of his crew, not even the General, would dare utter a word of protest.

Rey climaxes first, though it's no surprise with the constant-yet-erratic edges of pleasure he keeps trying to send to her through the Force. If he were more focused, less distracted by seeking his own release, Kylo was quite confidant he could have kept her teetering on the edge for so long she would have been gasping and begging him for release. And then he would have kept her there for longer still, until she was little more than a whimpering mess of need for him.

How lovely, but that's not how things worked out. Rey's orgasm feels exactly how he's always fantasized about it. Tight and warm and set to a backdrop of high pitched pants and muted pleas and curses muffled by her lips mouthing along his collar bone.

He finds his own release soon afterwards, imagining the far more pleasing fantasy of him filling her body and not the more likely truth of simply making an embarrassing and unexplainable mess across the elevator walls. He guides her throughout all of it, though. Through his own deep and then irregular thrusts to her own second wave of powerful climaxes as he uses the Force to bring her over the edge again so they can finish together.

Then he slumps to his knees, dragging her body along with him, and even in his sex fantasy his face still burns from the rude sound her sweat-slicked body makes as it slides against the durasteel behind her.

"Rey."

He nuzzles her neck, trying to think of any way he can extend their time together. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she whimpers into his waiting mouth as he withdraws himself. it's not a real pain, of course, but more of an echo of how he would have expected her to react if any of this debauchery had actually been real.

"I need to go soon," she whispers when they finally break apart from their kiss.

Part of him wants to believe these are really her words. Maybe the Force has become fed up with her dodging their connection and has chosen to link them in their slumber where she can't run from him.

But then, of course, he just fucked her against the wall of an elevator and the real Rey, failed attempt at a Jedi or not, would never have allowed that. Not even in her dreams and especially not after the events on Crait.

"I guess my alarm is going to wake me up soon?" he asks, attempt to content himself with nuzzling the top of her now very messy hair.

Dream Rey snorts indelicately, shaking her head against his chin.

"Kylo, nerfer, you do realize you actually did just black out in here, right? Like you're not in your own bed? And that stain behind me-"

"I'll destroy it. Slash it into oblivion."

It was a start. If his mind's projection of Rey was right, and he had no reason to think it wasn't, then his crew would be tirelessly attempting to reactivate the oddly malfunctioning elevator and at some point they would succeed. It would hardly do to find him naked, cuddling the air, and- and with other damning evidence on the scene.

Rey nods, apparently following his thoughts or at least guessing at them, and she begins to pull away. She looks at him with a mild of expression of pity, but that's also a frequent element to his fantasies so that makes sense as well.

"Still smashing your own ship like a child, Ren? Does your crew always fix it for you, or do they simply send in sanitation to deal with the aftermath?"

Kylo shrugs, picking up the first piece of his discarded clothes so he doesn't have to look at her.

"It's been known to happen," he admits.

Another indelicate snort, and he looks up to see Rey's deadpan expression greeting him again.

"No wonder Finn quit."

Her clothing is back on, he notes. All of it in the blink of an eye. He's still standing there buck naked and she's fully dressed, putting her at quite an irritating advantage.

Kylo steps forward, looming over her, and catches her chin in his hand.

"Until tonight, Rey. I'll dream of you tonight if you'll dream of me."

She stays silent. Her answer of a yes or no would have been very telling if any of this had really happened between them, but her silence leaves every question unanswered.

And she fades like sand in the wind when he leans down to kiss her lips one last time.

With a deep sigh Kylo starts to get dressed before activating his saber and working out his frustration on the walls to both cover up the evidence and literally hack his way out before his own men have to come and rescue him.