Rey finds the warehouse easily, having arrived on Courscant with a very carefully laid plan as always. Sah'c Town, or sector H-46, was once known to be a hub of industrial activity- a bustling mess of droid and ship production. Now, after mass production of these parts had become more efficient and cheaper off-world, it had descended into a playground of criminal activity. She chose this sector on purpose, knowing that Kylo Ren would have a harder time finding her among the thousands of quadrants belonging to Galactic City. The scavenger took a certain guilty pleasure in forcing the Knight to play at a game she knew all too well.
She spent the first three days laying around, munching on Kashyyykian muja fruit and taking sips from a canteen of corellian whiskey she'd purchased in a marketing district on her way in. Rey truly didn't mind having time to just relax- the last year since the destruction of star-killer base had been a haze of Resistance activity and rigorous training, so the idea of being able to immerse herself in a sea of faces as one of anonymity was downright thrilling. She'd even found a crate full of old droid parts, forgotten and rusty, but interesting nonetheless. Tinkering with them became something of a game, fitting different parts together like a jigsaw puzzle, using the Force to levitate each separate piece onto another.
She tires of this on the sixth day, and by that time she's exhausted every attempt to entertain herself- including sending extremely illicit thoughts towards the other side of their connection, the side belonging to the Knight; only to find he has effectively shut her out for the time being.
That day, the sixth day of waiting aimlessly in a crumbling warehouse, she feels what can only be described as a ripple in the Force- like a Kylo-shaped stone had been dropped into her consciousness. The urgency and playful irritation bleed off of him in waves, and she knows he's ready to find her.
I'm coming for you. That voice; so low, so smooth and tense. Rey finds herself surprised at how empty her mind had felt without it for so long.
You have 5 minutes upon landing to find my location. After that, I will shut you out, and we are going to play a little game I've named Seek the Scavenger. The girl giggles to herself, admiring her own clever mind, as she begins undressing, hiding various pieces of her clothing in places she knows he'll think to look.
I think you're forgetting, my little paramour, that I make the rules. I won. Such is my right. His patience is thinning, and she knows she should acquiesce, but hearing him pout that way just makes it all the more of an adventure. She smiles that dimpled devious grin, the one he won't (can't?) resist.
Four minutes, eighteen seconds, Ren. Make your move.
Four minutes and eighteen seconds later, she finds her final hiding space in a small conference room towards the entrance to the facility. The pride swelling in her chest is only amplified as she catalogues all the stops she's pulled for him- she's half-drunk already, with another flask of whiskey just for him. One ripe muja fruit in hand, (ready to be eaten seductively as he walks in) another resting atop her thighs just for him. Shutting him completely from her mind, she sits in a chair at the dusty table, ankles crossed atop the flat surface where she knew he would take her as soon as he found her.
Fuck, I'm so good at this. The scavenger grins once more to herself, and patiently waits for her Knight to find her.
Kylo Ren, on principal, does not have time for games. Somehow, though, this little Jedi has managed to enthrall him to the point where he will gladly give chase, will gladly follow her to a formerly Republic occupied city, to a neighborhood where he could very well be in grave danger.
At the end of her five minute countdown during which he has followed the instinct he hopes won't betray him, he finds himself in front of a derelict manufacturing warehouse, windows long since blown out and boarded over. The door looks as if it's already fallen apart twice, and has been patched together with different types of adhesives too many times. He stops in front of it, taking a cursory glance around for any spectators that might be lurking around this seedy outlying sector. Finding nothing, no one, he pushes the doors open with his gloved hands, opening to a large hangar-like room probably once used to store finished product. Shutting the great heaving doors behind him, he drops his cloak and mask on a work bench to his left. And with that, he begins the hunt for his elusive little scavenger.
Thinking logically, the girl would be somewhere in the furthest reaches of the warehouse, probably thinking he'd check the immediate vicinity upon arriving. So he meanders quietly through three different hallways until he reaches what looks to be an engine building bay, judging by the incredible amount of grease stains on the floor, the racks attached to the high ceilings used to hold the machinery up. Walking around the perimeter of the room, his eyes land on a toolbox with a pair of ruddy-looking boots resting on top, probably some forgotten- Wait, he thinks, doing a double take, those are Rey's. Shaking his head, he picks them up and tucks them under his arm, resolving to drop them in the central product holding bay when he makes his way back there.
Working his way closer to the door he entered through, he finds himself going down another wide, musty hallway leading to a room stacked to the ceiling with crates of rusty forsaken mechanical parts. He resolves to do another sweep of the room, levitating a few different crates out of the way, when he finds a belt and pair of leggings whose owner he is certain of. A smirk pricks at the ends of his solemn mouth as he bends to pick them up, holding them in the crook of his arm along with her boots. His frustration grows by the minute, and the absence of her in his head, he thinks, is the worst part of this little game she's determined to play.
One last winding hallway leads to a room just off the main space, filled with long tables, conveyor belts, forgotten droids scattered throughout, ones that probably haven't seen a power cord in years. He somehow gets the sense that she is very, very near to this space, so he takes his time; peeking behind every crate, every piece of machinery, beneath all the production lines. When at last he comes back around to the doorway he came in through, he sees her tunic. The bandage-type sleeves are tied around it in a little knot, holding the tunic to a post near a stack of cabinets; a little note next to them, with the only one word written on it in loopy text:
"Gotchya."
Rolling his eyes, he unties the sleeves and takes her ensemble with him, pressing the fabric to his face, breathing in her scent: sweat, grease, but also earth, fruit of some kind, and a warm homey smell he can't quite place. A desire, latent until now, makes its home in his stomach, dangerously close to his belt line. The Knight shakes his head in disbelief, astonished at how easily she constantly manages to undo the stoic demeanor he's worked so long, so hard to maintain.
Upon walking back into the main holding bay, he spots a door and instantly knows she's there. The door is built seamlessly into the wall perpendicular to the one he originally entered through, what seems like hours ago now. Keeping his pace controlled, silent so as to not alert her to his presence, he stalks over to the little room, and forces it open with a wave of his hand.
Instantly, their connection blooms with a joy, a delicious disordered sort of elation, and thick veins of plain, heavy desire flood through his mind. Taking in his surroundings, he finds her there, biting deep into the red skin of a muja fruit, letting the blood-hued juice dribble down her chin onto an exposed breast. Only then does he notice his cloak. The one he dropped on the workbench as soon as he walked in. His upper lip twitches in indignation, eyes roving over the exposed flesh, teeth clenching at the contrast of her pale freckled skin against the wool of his raven coloured cloak. She turns her head, an expression of almost careless contentment dancing across her lips as she wipes the juice away from them with the back of her hand.
"Hey stranger. What took you so long?" The girl's head lolls to one side as she swivels in her chair to face him, legs crossed.
His breath hitches as he notices the piece of fruit nestled into the spot where her thighs meet. Walking toward her, he holds up the ball of her clothing previously tucked away beneath his arm, flashing her a grin rife with debauchery.
"Well somebody had to clean up your mess." She smirks up at him, looming over her. Her eyes are challenging, bright. The girl blinks twice, and offers up the muja fruit, exposing the tuft of brown hair that'd been hidden by it.
"Hungry, Kylo?" She purrs, twisting her lips into a dangerously seductive smile.
"Unbelievably so, my little scavenger." With this, his mouth moves to hers, crushing the space between them and igniting the air around.
Rey is kissing back, countering his tongue with her own, her hands fumbling with the placket of his pants while his own lace into her hair, gripping tight, pulling her to her feet. And then those same gloved hands have moved, to find purchase behind her knees- lifting her from her place atop the chair to rest on the table where he nudges her legs apart to stand between them. She breaks their kiss, her face hovering before his, searching his face with a certain hunger.
"You like chasing me, don't you? It drives you absolutely mad, the Master of the Knights of Ren having to sink to the level of a scavenger-turned-jedi, doesn't it?" Unintentionally, the words slip from her mouth in a low purr.
Kylo pauses, smiling almost patronizingly at this beautiful, lissome creature before him. Removing his gloves, he sighs with a certain resignation.
"I do, actually. And these little games you're so hell-bent on playing somehow keep me from stringing Hux up by his scrawny little neck often enough. The best part, though…"
The words that might've been are lost when he kneels below her, his face at the perfect height to be pressed so eagerly between her thighs. A delicious mix between a gasp and a moan falls from Rey's mouth as his tongue moves along the slick flesh already wet with desire. And then two fingers press inside her, moving, deep enough to send little white flecks to the edges of her vision. Closing her eyes, she leans back, hands forward so they can find themselves nestled in that mess of curls atop his head. He moans into her, a sort of vibration, and his pace speeds up as her chest heaves with the breath that now seemed so difficult. Their bond thrums each time those two fingers fuck up into her, as if each stroke was winding her desire into a tightly coiled spring, so unbearably close to release.
And then: hollow, aching absence. The Knight had removed himself entirely, arisen, and sat back down on the chair, legs spread apart. A defiant look twisted his features, and from between those smirked lips came a command,
"Come here. I found you, I played your little game, and now you'll give me what I deserve. Get down here. On your knees, Rey."
The use of her name mixed with the terse urgency in his voice was enough to make her obey any command, let alone one she would very thoroughly enjoy. The girl did as she was bid, climbing down from her place atop the table to kneel obediently between Kylo's outstretched legs. Then she took him into her mouth, looking up at him with all the innocence she could feign. Pausing after a few trips up and down his now throbbing shaft, she asked
"Like this, Master?" And the answer came, with an approving tone,
"Yes. just like that."
Entire star systems could've been reduced to dust, Hux could've blown up his comm device three thousand times over, Darth Vader himself could've somehow come back to life (okay, that was a bit of a stretch), and Kylo Ren thinks that with Rey's lips around his cock, he wouldn't have even noticed. Her tongue, warm and lithe, coursing up and down over him sent shivers rocketing throughout his spinal chord, eliciting some filthy noise the Knight didn't really know how to control. His hips buck up into her mouth on their own, and she backs off if only the slightest bit, gagging a little as she goes back down to take him into her throat to the hilt. That alone is near enough to send him over the edge, and, wanting this to be worth both their while, he places both hands on the girl's cheeks and lifts her face level with his own.
The scavenger blinks twice, lips parted, soft breath coming through them. His eyes rove over her features- her high cheekbones now flushed pink from effort, her hazel eyes slightly gleaming with involuntary tears, the barely-there sheen of sweat at her temples. Kylo tips his face up so that his lips meet her forehead and looks her dead in the eye once more.
"Stand up. I want you to bend over this table, palms flat against it. Do you understand?"
"Yes, but-" Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he stops her short by spinning her towards the aforementioned table, pressing one hand to the small of her back, and folding her body flat against it.
"I said," His voice comes out in a growl, "Do you understand?"
"Yes." The girl's voice is barely above a whisper, but he can still hear the coy playfulness behind it.
"Yes, what?" He prompts, squaring up behind and leaning over her body to rest his lips against her ear, "What did you call me earlier? I liked that very much."
Rey gulps down a moan as she feels his cock pressed up against her ass, hot and thick and there.
"Master. Yes, Master."
And in one swift motion, he is everywhere inside her, and she everywhere about him somehow, their connection going absolutely incendiary as she stretches around him.
"Very good, Rey. Very, very good. I'm going to fuck you now, do you understand? I'm going to fuck you very well; you've got to have something dirty to think about when you touch yourself, don't you? Since I can't do it myself?" He thrusts into her again, hard and deep.
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master." She gasps, eyes screwed shut, jolting forward from the impact of his hips flush against her ass. Kylo throws his head back, letting out a string of curses he barely registers thinking. He thrusts in and out of her, desperate, filthy, just the way he wants to. When his hand makes sharp contact with the soft, ample skin of her ass, he resolves to catalogue the sound as one of the most pleasing things he's ever heard, along with the little yelp that follows it.
"What do you say when I fuck you? Good girls say thank you, scavenger." Kylo says this as he leans over her again, keeping his rhythm while his hand snakes around her hips to caress the nub between her legs. She jumps at the sensation, but almost instantly after breathes her approval in the form of a fuck, yes, there, thank you, thank you, thank you
"Good girls-" she pauses to moan his name, twice, three times, "Good girls say thank you to their-" This time, the pause is longer, long enough for Kylo to interject,
"That's right. Who do you say thank you to?" He fucks up into her harder this time, needy and rough, until he feels her clenching around his cock, convulsing beneath him against the table.
"Master. Thank you, Master." As if they were magic words, he reaches his own peak, spilling himself inside her, twitching and gasping her name. The air around them hums, their consciousnesses melding together in a flurry of pleasure and relief, satisfaction, contentment until they are indiscernible from one another. The Knight pulls his member, sticky and still sensitive, from the warmth of her body while she gathers her bearings, breathing heavily, eyes fluttering closed. He watches her for a moment before smiling, saying softly
"You're welcome."
The world spins around her until she closes her eyes, and even then Rey still feels as if the floor beneath her feet may actually be spice jelly. Having caught her breath, her eyes open once more as she turns around to face Kylo, who, apparently, has already dressed himself and is fastening his cloak about his shoulders. The girl's cheeks bloom a rose colour as she takes stock of her own, very obvious lack of clothes. Gathering her leggings and tunic from the floor, she moves to dress herself again, feeling a little foolish (but ultimately pleased) at the events of the last 6 days. A gloved hand rests against her chest then, stopping her where she stands.
"Let me look at you a moment. I don't know when we'll get to play again." He says this with what she assumes is the closest the Knight can come to a smile. His eyes drink her in, and all embarrassment she'd felt before at her nakedness dissolves. His gaze is gentle, serene, not asking anything of her. Rey closes her eyes, smiles contentedly, hums a few bars of a song she'd heard ages ago at the cleaning station on Jakku. That gloved hand moves down to her hip, back up her side to her breast, then to her neck. When she opens her eyes, Kylo's face is a mere breadth from her own.
"Until next time, little scavenger." He kisses her between the eyes once, and with a turn of his heel, the twirl of that black wool cloak, he is gone again.