Chapter 17: Unmasqued
Summary:
Here it is. The chapter that 99.99% of you were waiting for ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
[excerpt]:
He dropped the washcloth back into the bowl and set it to the side. He brought his hands back, his fingers tentatively tracing the margins of her abraded skin, needing to feel her, reluctant to let go.
She stilled his hand. Her fingers gently curled around their trembling lengths, and she raised his palm until it rested against the softness of her prettily flushed cheek.
"Rey," he groaned. She turned into him, soothing the roughness of his hands with a gentle brush of her lips. His body hummed with desire, its intensity spreading from the depths of his chest and stealing his breath.
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
I possess so much, but my love for her absorbs it all. I possess so much, but without her I have nothing .
-The Sorrows of Young Werther, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Rey stared at Tyran's visage, his masculine beauty twisted grotesquely by his cruelty. As his lips curled into a mocking leer, she wondered how she could have ever made such an egregious mistake. Although they both shared a strong nose and full lips and eyes of the same shade of mercurial gold, the vindictiveness with which the young noble delighted upon seeing her distinct disadvantage would never have befouled the Earl of Alderaan's face.
Rey winced as Tyran tightened his iron-clad grip, restraining her against his broad chest. He breathed harshly as he adjusted himself between her legs, and there was no mistaking the hardness which suddenly pressed up against the back of her thighs.
"Why?" she whispered. She clenched her fists, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her tears.
She let her question linger. It wavered in the night, like a plaintive plea. The answer came in the shape of a figure which emerged from behind the trees. Its features were hidden behind the lengthy shadows, soaked in the cloying scent of wild myrtle, and enveloped by the swish of rustling silk.
"I am surprised that you have yet to figure it out, Miss Kenobi. Naughty children must be punished when they take things which are not there own," purred the Duchess of Silesia, her face slowly unveiled under the moon's pale light.
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
There was a buzz of anticipation amongst the rowdy crowd as the midnight hour neared. Thanisson scanned the room, enjoying the last minutes of anonymity with the rest of the revelers before their excuse for impropriety was taken away.
"Oh, bother!" There was a moment of confusion as a distintly feminine voice and an even more feminine form careened indelicately into his side. Thanisson found himself facing a statuesque beauty dressed in a pirate's outfit not dissimilar to his own. His jacket, however, did not have the same flare at the chest, nor did his breeches have the same curve to the hips, as did they did with this mysterious rover.
She was dabbing furiously at the punch which had spilled from her glass and onto her thigh. He took out his handkerchief and gallantly held it towards her hand. She took it gratefully, bestowing him with a sheepish grin as the remnants of the spirit seeped into the cambric muslin, turning it red.
"My apologies, my Lord," she offered, her blue eyes bright behind her mask. "But it appears that your handkerchief is now in as equally a sorry state as my dress."
He gave a gentle shrug. "Think nothing of it. Any buccaneer worth their salt should have the wounds to go along with it. An appropriate part of the costume, if you ask me."
"So this would be yours?" she asked cheekily as she returned the stained piece of cloth.
Thanisson faltered briefly as he thought about Rey. He gave her a valiant smile; indulging in a bit of harmless flirtation would seem to be the perfect remedy for one's wounded pride.
"Well, I am hoping to avoid the one to my vanity if you were to refuse my company at the unmasking."
She laughed, a deep, throaty sound that fell unfettered from her lips. She bent forward, her body sweeping into a low bow.
"I would be delighted to. Ann Bonny, at your service." Thanisson's lips crinkled into an appreciative smile as she whipped out a blunderbuss and brandished it with a skillful flourish.
"And who are you supposed to be, My Lord?" she asked as she holstered the weapon back at her side.
Thanisson arched his brow. "That depends. Does your Bonny happen to have a Calico Jack?"
The woman laughed. "No. Although the thought of finally putting out to sea certainly has its appeal."
"In that case, you are looking at Jack Rackham." He mimicked her bow. "At your service."
Thanisson peered into her eyes as he stood. They twinkled mirthfully, a gorgeous, cornflower blue. Her confident posture was somehow familiar, her energy infectious and reassuring. He frowned. The flutter of recognition skated at the edges of his consciousness, but before he could pursue it further, his attention was suddenly thwarted by an imposing figure in a black domino who grabbed the mysterious buccaneer by her hand.
"Have you seen Rey, Phasma?" Ren asked. He had removed his mask, and his eyes reflected a trace of urgency.
Thanisson stared in disbelief as Lady Phasma removed her silver-gilded, ivory disguise. "Not for at least the past hour," Phasma replied. She frowned as she scanned their immediate surroundings, searching for a flash of red, or the glint of gold.
"I thought she was with you, Lord Ren," Thanisson piped up. The Organa-Solo siblings looked at him with surprise. He removed his own mask, flushing dully at Phasma's shocked expression and Ren's darkening scowl.
"Am I to understand that you left Miss Kenobi alone, Thanisson? While you stand here like a hell-hound, trading sweet trifles with my sister?" Kylo took a step forward menacingly. In that moment, Thanisson wondered if he would forever remain the recipient of anything but Ren's thunderous glare.
Thanisson shook his head, uncertain of how much to say as Lord Hux and Madame de Montespan pulled up by Ren's side.
"It is not what you think," the young man said hastily as Ren took another step. "She-well, Miss Kenobi and I-decided that we are better suited as friends. We both felt that it would be foolhardy to encourage my courtship, given the circumstances."
Thanisson's face took on a look of consternation. "In fact, that is what I believed she was on her way to tell you."
Kylo did not advance further, but his face still held a frown. "But that does not answer the question of why you let her wander off alone."
"This is a masquerade, Ren," Thanisson answered defensively. "As I am sure you can see, there are plenty of young ladies who are currently mingling unchaperoned." Ren's eyes darted towards Phasma, who blushed. "We parted near the Chinese Pavilion. She was heading up the hill towards you; you could not have been more than five hundred meters away. I did not accompany her further, nor delay my presence because..." He broke off, coughing delicately. "I believe that what she wanted to tell you would have been inappropriate in mixed company. Especially in the presence of her former suitor."
Hux and Isabelle exchanged knowing looks while Phasma tried to suppress her growing smile. Ren, however, was suddenly overtaken by a cold fear.
"That would have been all well and good," he growled, trying to keep the growing anxiety from his voice. "Except that I was never near the Pavilion tonight."
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
"Don't feel too badly, Miss Kenobi. It is an understandable mistake." Bazine purred. The look in her eyes bordered on madness as she savored Rey's mutinous expression.
Bazine leaned in, laughing wickedly as the younger woman flinched. She reached across and brushed Tyran's jaw affectionately before fingering his hair. She twirled a glossy strand, staring at its ebony color in fascination, coiling it around her finger before it loosened and fell back into place.
"Sir Tyran is very handsome, is he not? It has often been said that he and Lord Ren could be brothers. Twins, perhaps, if not for the color of their hair."
"He is nothing like Lord Ren. In fact, neither of you are worth the polish it takes to blacken his shoes."
Bazine arched a delicate brow.
"What an interesting choice of words." She inclined her head towards Tyran's raven locks. "Shoes are not the only things which can be blackened, you know. A little bit of gallic and acetic acid added to iron sesquichloride was all it took for this transformation to take place."
"You're mad," Rey whispered. "Lord Ren refuses you, so you create a mockery of his image in his stead?"
Bazine gave her an inscrutable look. "Are you not pleased? I created him for you, after all."
"Me? You created-" Rey's confusion slowly turned to horror. "What does any of this have to do with me?!"
Bazine's eyes hardened. "It has everything to do with you!" she hissed. "Kylo was supposed to be mine! We were always meant to be together, ever since we were children! Yet you insinuate yourself into his life and steal his affections-a ragged, uncouth, ungraceful girl, with nothing of her own..." She choked on her rage in disbelief.
Rey stared. "Lord Ren is not an object for you to own. And the unfortunate situation in which you find yourself has nothing to do with me. It is true that he loved you, once. Yet you destroyed that love when you shattered his hopes, and along with them the remaining threads of his dignity and grace. Have you any idea of how much he suffered, of the damage you caused with your callous disregard?"
"How much he suffered?! You foolish girl, you have no idea!" Bazine's voice climbed in her fury. "You have no idea of what I had to endure, of what it means to live a life filled with physical and emotional pain."
Rey bit her lip. She unfortunately knew of these things all too well.
"It doesn't matter now," the Duchess said, her voice dangerously soft. "Although Kylo may be lost to me forever, he will never be yours. As you have felled my last chance at finding happiness, so I shall destroy yours."
Tyran looked around nervously.
"Your Grace." Tyran's voice was loaded with warning. "Perhaps we should proceed with your plan?" The music was playing in the distance, and the buzz of the moving crowd lent an intensity to the air. It would not be long before the guests spilled out of the Rotunda and back onto Ranalegh's well-manicured lawns.
Bazine ignored Tyran's cautionary stare. "Poor Kylo. Despite the benefits of his entitlement, he is unfortunately too predictable when it comes to matters of his dress. He was never one to find pleasure in the novelty a masquerade, always choosing to wear the same uninspired costume, year after year."
She turned suddenly.
"I am sure you are aware by now just how much Kylo values loyalty. He cannot abide by the thought of betrayal." She grimaced. "A betrayal of any kind would cut deep. But for him, a betrayal of the heart is akin to an irreparable wound.
"I wonder what he would think, should gossip of an improper dalliance reach his ears? How would he react, knowing that his little bird was discovered in the midst of an amorous congress? Sir Tyran is not only attractive, but I can tell you first hand that he has his own considerable charms. I believe he would take great pleasure in bending you to his will."
"I would never participate in such a thing," Rey retorted.
Bazine let out a shrill laugh. "Ahh, but you already have. How easily you played into our hands. It was you who sought out Tyran, so easily fooled by the black of his hair and the shape of his cloak. It would take even less to sully your reputation. A gag on that pretty mouth and a glimpse of your costume as Tyran spins fanciful expressions of love to you in the dark. The convenience of a gossipy crowd; how rapidly those whispers would spread of your indiscretion, a Banbury story sowing the seeds of his doubt."
"I beg of you, Your Grace. We need to move, lest we attract unwanted attention." Tyran removed his hand from Rey's waist to grab Bazine, pulling her to the side.
Rey spun away, taking advantage of Tyran's momentary distraction to reach under her skirt. Her fingers curled around the well-worn handle of her sgian-achlais. Its honed blade slipped out from its gartered scabbard, its metal surface glinting menacingly as it flashed in the moon's light.
Tyran's disbelief quickly turned into anger.
"You dare to threaten me?!" he snarled, reaching out towards her weaponed arm.
Although Rey was woefully outmatched by his towering height and strength, her experience on the streets gifted her with a both slight of hand and speed. She feinted, batting his arm away. She brought the dagger forward, the weapon arcing dangerously towards him in warning.
"Stay back," Rey exhorted, her trembling hands belying the bravado in her voice.
Tyran pushed Bazine aside and lunged. Rey side-stepped him, reaching across and striking out from underneath his outstretched arm. The weapon's sharp point tore through the sleeve of his shirt, the steel blade piercing his skin. Tyran retreated, reeling as the heel of his boot caught on the exposed root of a massive oak. Rey watched in horror as he fell, his leg flexed beneath him at an unnatural angle as his arms circled overhead, only to stop as his head hit the trunk with a sickening thud.
Rey drew a sharp breath at the sight of the blood which began to pool from behind Tyran's ear. She took a step forward to peer at his form, breathing a sigh of relief upon witnessing the rise and fall of his chest.
"Stop where you are!" Bazine's eyes were unfocused and wild. Her reticule had dropped to the ground, and she held a boxlock flintlock in her grasp. The end of its dainty barrel was wavering unsteadily, and Rey felt a frisson of fear wash over her as the safety slid into place and the pistol became fully cocked.
"Get away from him," Bazine hissed, the double-crossed scepters on the Staudenmayer proof blurring rapidly in her shaking hands.
Rey stepped back slowly from Tyran's unmoving figure.
"He is hurt, Bazine, and requires attention." she said quietly. "Do you wish his blood on your conscience?"
"It is your own conscience which needs to be appeased. Drop the dagger!" Bazine ordered, directing the pistol's movement towards Rey's hand. "Make haste! I assure you that I am more than a fair shot."
Rey closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her life flashed in front of her in rapid bursts. Images of her family, and of their love. Of their ambitions, and their ill-fated journey. Of her days spent hungry and cold. Of her loneliness, and Plutt's tutelage, and his greed. Of the shock of her capture, and of Hux's wager, and of Kylo's opulent world. Of his cynicism and of his rapidly growing stares, and of the way he held her against him as they danced, and of the aching vulnerability on his lips when they finally kissed.
Of the moment when she had fallen hopelessly, and helplessly in love.
She opened her eyes, at peace with the knowledge that even as she stood in front of a madwoman, she would choose Kylo again and again. She stared resolutely ahead and awaited her fate, as her fingers slowly loosened from the sgian-achlais' hilt.
"Rey!" Kylo's guttural cry carried through the night. His long legs bridged the distance with their furious strides, with four other shadows trailing at his sides.
Bazine wailed upon hearing his call, the keening sound an inhuman mix of anguish and fury. A shower of sparks and the smell of sulfur sprayed forth from the flintlock's muzzle as she pulled the trigger, her target none other than Rey's heart. But her roiling emotions caused her aim to falter, and the lead ball sailed wide of its intended mark.
As Bazine peered from behind the smoking gun in disbelief, Rey took hold of her dagger and threw. It flew through the air, the blade entrapping the hem of Bazine's gown as Rey charged, knocking the gun out of her hand and pulling the screaming woman onto the ground.
The gun skittered out of reach. The roaring in her ears subsided as Rey heard the approaching shouts. Thanisson and Phasma ran towards Tyran, the viscount checking the downed noble's pockets for any concealed weapons while Phasma trained her blunderbuss on his stirring form.
"Rey." Kylo choked. His eyes were suspiciously wet as his strong arms pulled her up. He held her against him, needing to memorize the scent of her hair, and to feel the beating of her heart.
"You Cytherean!" Bazine shrieked accusingly at Rey, her face livid at the sight of Kylo's affection.
"You whore! You who set your cap on him, playing to his sympathies with your faradiddles and cutting shams!"
Murmurs rippled through the growing crowd. The Duchess' eyes were glazed, her once–glorious locks loosened from under their hold. Her clothing was shredded and torn, a match for her sanity as she succumbed to the depths of her hatred.
"What kind of creature are you, that you would continue to torture me so? You take what is mine, throwing a rub in the way of my best attempts to impugn your virtue. And yet you still taunt me, flaunting yourself in his arms!" She wailed, reaching up to claw at her hair in frustration and devastation, before throwing herself at Rey.
"I wish I had killed you!"
Kylo took a step forward, his face filled with fury, his hand ready to strike. Hux quickly wrestled her to the ground, and the next words he spoke were laced with a spiteful satisfaction.
"I warned you, Bazine, that such machinations and treachery would only lead to disgrace and scandal in the end." He smirked. "Perhaps your charms are not as potent as they once seemed."
Bazine squirmed furiously, spitting on the his cheek as she struggled to break free.
"If you ever valued your life, do not continue to play the fool," Hux sneered. "You have already admitted to your deceit in front of the ton. I have the benefit of a loaded British Holster at my side. And although I may not be Ren's nursemaid, as you had once so accused, I am a soldier who has spilt blood for my country, and would not hesitate to do the same for my friends."
Hux pulled the belt from his costume as Bazine reluctantly stilled. He wound the fabric around her wrists, unable to resist knotting it tightly as he gave one last forceful tug. When he looked up, he spotted Rey, his expression suddenly changing into a concerned frown.
"Perhaps you should attend to your bird, Ren. It appears that she may have been winged."
Kylo loosened his hold on Rey's arms. She shivered, bereft from the loss of his touch. For the first time she noticed the crowd's curious looks and pitying stares. She began to shake, her sobs wracking her body as they hurtled against her ribs. She reached out towards Kylo, and was almost felled by the pain which lanced through her shoulder as she grappled against him for support.
"She needs to be looked after, Ren," Hux said softly. "Why don't you take her home? The Duchess and Sir Tyran are currently incapacitated. The horse patrol will be here soon. There are plenty of witnesses, and you can follow up with the Bow Street Runners to press charges in the morn."
Rey pulled into him tightly and squeezed his hand. "Please, Kylo." she begged.
Kylo looked down at Rey. Her face was wan, her body trembling, and her breathing too shallow and quick. His throat choked with emotions, he quickly nodded his assent. He swept Rey into his arms, her head resting against his heart, as he headed towards the exit to find the nearest coach.
~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~
He had not let her out of his arms from that moment forward. He cradled her against him, striving to protect her with every last bit of his reserve. He accosted the first available coachman, paying him quadruple the standard rate for the privilege of privacy as the carriage headed towards the Grenier's Hotel at a breakneck speed. He held her always, refusing the driver's assistance as they disembarked, holding her weary form against him until they reached the safety of his room.
He lay her down on his bed. She stretched, her aching body welcoming its softness as she settled against the linens, enveloping her in his scent.
"Kylo."
His heart ached. Never had he heard her so vulnerable, the notes hovering and breaking over the letters of his name.
"I'm here, Rey," he murmured, his large hand clasped reassuringly over her own. He rubbed his thumb against her trembling skin, keeping the movement slow and steady until the shaking subsided.
He brushed the hair off her forehead and graced it with a gentle kiss.
"I need to look at your shoulder," he said apologetically. He stood reluctantly, removing his jacket and waistcoat as he rolled up his sleeves. He quickly lit the candles before returning to her side, armed with a basin of water and a cloth.
He looked at her shoulder tentatively. The fabric of the choli was torn, the skin underneath reddened. Its abraded edges had already begun to thicken and congeal, causing it to stick painfully against the fibers of her blouse.
Rey grimaced at his inelegant attempts to access her damaged skin. He took a deep breath, dampening the edges of the cloth repeatedly until it finally loosened its grip. His hand hovered, and there was a hint of a faint blush as he made a request.
"Rey. I need you to remove your top so that I may properly attend to your wound." He turned around, unbuttoning his shirt and handing it to her blindly.
"You may put this on to cover yourself. Leave your shoulder exposed, however, so that I am able to clean and dress it."
He felt her take the shirt from her hand. Her silence was soon followed by the tinkle of her beads, and the swish of the fabric gliding across her skin as the top was drawn overhead. He took a deep breath, unable to suppress a shudder and the direction of his traitorous imagination upon hearing the creak as she adjusted her position on the bed.
When she finally spoke, her voice was resolute.
"You need not fear for my modesty, Kylo. I have spent much of my life in the company of others, where it was a luxury too scarce to afford. Moreover, 'it does not follow that modesty is a virtue; it is built upon shame, a passion in our nature, and may be either good or bad according to the actions performed from that motive.'
"I have seen enough good and bad in my life, to be well aware of the difference. I know that when I see you, I see so much good that my heart nearly bursts from its overwhelming radiance and generosity."
Her voice softened, caressing him with her love and acceptance.
"I am ready, whenever you are."
Kylo turned slowly, and when he finally saw her, his mouth went dry at the sight.
She sat bathed in moon's rays, proud and guileless, as prepossessing and glorious as Selene. Wisps of her hair framed her face, a milky, chocolate brown which morphed into spun gold. She looked at him expectantly, her hazel eyes wide framed by the lengths of her lashes. His shirt draped over her enticingly, the outline of her curves and the dusky tips of her breasts plainly visible against the thin fabric which was rendered semi-transparent by the nocturnal light.
Kylo swallowed heavily. He sat down, the bed dipping down under his added weight. The sleeve slipped further under his watchful gaze, exposing the graceful line of her neck and the curve of her shoulder before the tantalizing glimpse of her bared skin disappeared back into the folds of the fabric.
He kept his eyes focused ahead. The water tinkled against the smooth porcelain as he brought up the wash cloth and began to clean. He dabbed gently, slowly washing away every trace of the angry redness and the debris.
He dropped the washcloth back into the bowl and set it to the side. He brought his hands back, his fingers tentatively tracing the margins of her abraded skin, needing to feel her, reluctant to let go.
She stilled his hand. Her fingers gently curled around their trembling lengths, and she raised his palm until it rested against the softness of her prettily flushed cheek.
"Rey," he groaned. She turned into him, soothing the roughness of his hands with a gentle brush of her lips. His body hummed with desire, its intensity spreading from the depths of his chest and stealing his breath.
He tilted his head and shifted against her as she let out a breathy sigh. The traces of her magnolia perfume mixed with his woodsy scent, reminiscent of Caserta's gardens after a glorious summer rain. His lips pressed against hers, so sweet and wondrous in its innocence and strength, until they parted in invitation and he leaned in for more.
She wound her hands around his neck, burying her fingers into his long locks, pulling him further in. Her tongue darted out, licking the edges of his mouth teasingly until his tongue captured hers as his body trembled in response.
She felt the slow flush of heat as it suffused her body. Every part of her ached, and she couldn't prevent the soft whimper which escaped as he reluctantly pulled away.
"Kylo, please."
His name was salvation, her plea like mana dripping from her honeyed lips. His breathing was ragged as he took in her hazel eyes, their color darkened by her desire.
"I—I can't," he rasped, cursing the remnants of his moral fiber even as his gaze raked over her silhouetted form. "With everything that you have been through tonight. What kind of man would I be, were I to take advantage of you, when you may not be in full control of your emotions, or-" Kylo flushed as he watched the way her body was wantonly responding to him. "Your reactions."
Rey stared.
"But I am in control," she said adamantly. "At least as much as a woman who has fallen in love with all her heart could remain so."
She moved closer to him. Their thighs touched, their chests so close that each breath caused her shirt to brush against his skin.
"I have been more than once intoxicated; my passions have always bordered on extravagance. I am not ashamed to confess it."
He bowed his head, overwhelmed by the memory of their banter on that glorious summer morning, as well as her acknowledgement of the statement's truth. His resolve broke with the realization of all that she was offering. The magnitude of her gift rushed through him, nearly bowling him over and knocking him to his knees.
He took her hands in his own, his eyes shining with the emotion of his words.
"For the last ten years, Rey, I have been drifting at sea, lost in my anger and drowning in the bitterness of what had become of my life. With you in it, I have finally found the shore. You complement me. You inspire me. You fulfill me. You do more than occupy my every thought; you have become the very essence of my being. You not only captured my heart; you made me whole."
He inhaled, dipping his forehead until it rested upon hers, placing her small hand over his racing heart.
"Think of you! I do not think of you; you are always before my soul."
His breath grew ragged, as her hand splayed across the planes of his chest. She drew her thumb in, circling his nipple, the darkened nub hardening rapidly underneath her touch as he let out a moan.
Kylo reached out for her greedily in response, his hand fisting into the shirt's folds. The borrowed clothing hung huge over her slight frame, its cotton material more intoxicating than the finest gossamer silk. He lowered the voluminous fabric hastily, letting it puddle around her waist.
Rey sat, her cheeks coloring under his appreciative stare. She held her head high as his hands worshipped each magnificent curve and lingered over every sensitive crook, until she was finally free of every habiliment and completely bared to his gaze.
His chest burst, filled with disbelief at the image of this sublime creature offering herself unabashedly to him. She was magnificent. She was glorious.
She was his.
He let out a shattered groan as he kissed her ravenously, her body arching into his embrace. Her nipples peaked, their friction rough and exquisite against his skin. He cupped her breasts and kneaded those fleshy curves, grinning in satisfaction upon hearing her whine as he took her into his mouth.
Her body was on fire, its intensity bubbling up and consuming her as he laved her with his tongue. Her belly throbbed, and she ached with an emptiness that she knew only he could fulfill. She pulled at his trousers, tearing at the buttons of his placket impatiently, nearly sobbing as his hot and heavy cock sprang free.
He was beside himself with desire as he tore off his pants and toed off his shoes. Kylo gasped as her hands slid tentatively over his considerable girth. She began to stroke him, delighting the sounds she elicited from his panting mouth. She grew bolder, her grip tightening as it moved rapidly on his rigid shaft, flushing with a heady power as it began to twitch and leak.
"You must be a witch," he rasped with a shuddering breath. He could come like this, with her experimental innocence and seductress' intuition, the combination more potent than all the tricks of the most practiced courtesan. He snaked his hand between the softness of her thighs, curling his fingers against the softness of her curls, as his thumb sought the warm and dewy jewel which lay hidden beneath.
She moaned, the delicate line of her neck arching in pleasure, exposing her fluttering pulse. He circled the area slowly, feeling the wetness seep against his hands, their dewy sweetness signaling her growing readiness for something more. He circled faster, pressing gently against her quim and dipping the tip of his finger into the warmth of her walls as she rolled her hips in response.
"I need you," she urged breathily, pulling him upwards. There was such an ache, a heat in her belly, which was yearning to be filled. "I want to feel all of your passion. Show me what it is to love, in the most intimate way."
He positioned himself over her, his strong arms shaking from his need. As he hovered, he drank in the sight of her beauty. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting her in a glowing, luminous sheen. Her lips were red and swollen from their kisses, her cheeks pink, and eyes dark with yearning. He growled with a sudden pride and possessiveness, even as his conscience warred with his lust one last time.
"Rey. I do not wish to sully your reputation. The gift which you offer is both singular and precious." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I am no longer a boy of eighteen, with a need to sow his oats. I do not mind waiting until we are properly engaged. That is, I...I mean, you are well worth-"
He sputtered at the loss of his usual eloquence. She smiled knowingly, and leaned forward to capture his lips.
"I love you," she murmured. "For so long, my life has been devoid of happiness. I see no need to deprive myself of such joy or pleasure, now that I have found you. I want to share this-tonight, and always-with you."
She angled her hips towards him, the downy softness of her curls teasing his cock.
"Make love to me, Kylo Ren."
He sank into her, unable to resist any longer. She gasped at the incredible fullness, her muscles tightening instinctively as the hint of tears pricked her eyes.
He kissed her dewy lashes, murmuring words of comfort and love. She slowly relaxed as he stroked her sides, her legs eventually spreading open as she tilted her hips up to take him further in.
He could sob at her perfection, his past dalliances merely pale imitations and temporary substitutions for all that she was. She kissed him as they began to move, their lips and tongues full of wonderment and passion. Her heart burst as she felt him move inside her, his strokes growing more fervent, faster and stronger, until his pistoning hips matched the tattooed beat of her heart. The heat spread from her groin like a bird taking flight, soaring and blinding in its beauty, the fluttering of its wings growing louder as it approached the sun and embraced its white light.
Rey. My true Love.
The air shimmered as he chanted the mantra in his head, the words blurring in their sound and meaning until it spilled over him in a flood of emotion. He groaned as he gave one last thrust and she keened, filling her with his seed, her name the last thing on his lips as he came with a shuddering breath.
He spiraled downward in the aftermath, listening to the thudding beat of his heart and the exhale of his breath, his lips tasting the sweaty salt of her skin. He held her tight, unable to let her go as his lips traced the delicate curves of his face. He continued to kiss her as her lids drifted closed, and he did not fear the glorious truth of the words he softly whispered into her ear.
I love you, Rey Kenobi. Mind, body and soul.
.~O~.
Notes:
OK, so all those chemicals were ingredients to make lamp black. This was an actual recipe which was used in the 1800's to make a hair dye as put forth in the book "The Arts of Beauty" by The Countess of Landsfeld.
I hope that this ending makes up for that red herring! *ducks quickly*