kingdom come undone | Kylo Ren x Reader

part one | chapter eight

It was not gentle, not a romantic first kiss where both of you hesitated before moving into a tender embrace, slowly exploring how it feels to finally connect with the other.

It wasn't like the other kisses you'd experienced in your life- some awkward, some tentative, even some that had a modicum of mutual desire. But not quite like this.

No, this was something different.

Kylo Ren kissed you like a man starved. He kissed you as you had imagined he would- rough, devouring, like he was trying to claim his rightful ownership over you. Or, perhaps, trying to remind you of his ownership.

Whether or not you wanted to argue that point didn't matter. You could restart your bid for control once his hands were no longer in your hair, holding your head in place while he took over you, once your body was no longer his.

Your heart was still hammering from your previous argument, from the lingering effects of being in his presence and not knowing what he was thinking, feeling, from the endless waves of emotions you had moved through in the past ten minutes. It took a moment for your thoughts to catch up with the moment, time having lost all meaning. Every second that passed felt like twenty light years and twenty milliseconds at the same time. But once your thoughts did catch up, and you fully comprehended that yes, this is real, you eagerly returned the kiss. Gasping into it, electricity running through your veins.

The durasteel was firm against your back, allowing him to completely press you against it. You raked your hands through his hair, feeling each strand as it passed through your hands- so that's what it felt like. He had to arch himself over you slightly, his frame towering over yours.

You wished, briefly, that you could have an outsider's view, so you could see what he looked like right then, pinning you against the door and completely overtaking you. Were his eyebrows furrowed, his shoulders tense as he concentrated on you? What did he look like as he bent himself so he could properly reach your lips?

What did you look like?

One hand moves from your face to your neck, drawing you upwards, deepening what was already an intense display of desire. Your pulse was rapid, and he had to feel it under his touch, feel what he did to you. A rush of heat shot between your legs, and you moaned into the kiss.

A brief moment of clear, rational thought broke through your hazy mind. You shouldn't want this. You really shouldn't want this. The sensible part of your brain- the part of your brain that you've been consistently ignoring lately- reminded you who exactly it was that you were letting touch you right now. But you were too turned on to care.

You bit his bottom lip, drawing a deep groan out from the depths of his chest, reverberating against you. And you would do anything to hear that sound again, hear more from him. You reveled in the knowledge that you were the one that could do that to him.

He broke away from you, and you tried to chase his mouth, not wanting to stop kissing him yet. You don't think you'd ever be ready to stop kissing him.

He pushed your head back, his grip on your neck tightening for a moment before loosening some- but not all- of the pressure. It was a warning, a reminder of the imbalance of your power. The imbalance that you had succumbed to, if just for the time being. The imbalance that- whether or not you liked it- made your heart race with a longing, a deep need for him to hold you down and fuck you.

You rubbed your thighs together, attempting to alleviate some of the pressure, unsure if this was going to go in the direction you wanted.

He examined your face, lips red and wet from his abuse, eyes wide and pupils blown. Or, at least, that's what you assumed you looked like, seeing the state he was in. His gaze was hungry, drinking in your dazed expression, as if- instead of satisfying him- your kiss had awoken something deep in him.