Contract With the Commander: Kylo x OC

Chapter 7

Quinn

Maker, two days can really feel like forever. But there's something to be said about anticipation. Even if the commander only fucks for twenty seconds, everything leading up to it is so electric, I can't even pretend to care all that much. It's been two weeks since I first spoke to Commander Ren, and so far I haven't gone more than a few minutes without thinking about him. I know the feeling will go away eventually. The sex will get stale and it'll become a chore. A contract fulfillment. But until then, I'll remain obsessed with his expert hands and the way that modulated voice exudes dirty talk.

Commander Kylo Ren. I have no idea who he is. Or what his face looks like. Or why he wears a helmet. Or why he needs to broker contracted sex with a seemingly random First Order employee. I get the feeling that he might just be the loneliest man on the Finalizer, but truthfully, I don't know the first thing about the guy. Other than what his hands feel like inside me. How his cock fills my mouth to the point of pain. That he plays my body like a well practiced pianist. That's not much to go off of as far as personal information.

At least I'm not late to the bridge this morning. The atmosphere is quiet and relaxed, though you'd never be able to tell by looking at all the perfectly uniformed, straight-backed personnel. It's just the feeling. The Finalizer, and its lesser two ships that always accompany it, are docked in orbit above Star Killer Base. According to the briefing, we'll be here for six days. I'm not looking forward to my work days feeling impossibly long.

"Sir?"

I turn to find my assistant nav officer before me holding out a datapad. With a confused frown, I take it and look down at the screen. What would I need to know, we're sitting ducks?! The document is titled 'classified' even though it isn't in a proper passcode protected file.

I got fired for drinking on the job...

With a horrified gasp, I read the next line a few spaces down.

They're strict about that sort of thing at the sperm bank.

Without any regard for the changing atmosphere around me, a loud laugh bursts from my chest. I look back up at my assistant officer to share the humor, but his face is devoid of color, and his eyes are looking at the bridge behind me.

The laugh grows cold in my chest, and my head whips around to see two men striding across the silent bridge toward us. General Hux wears a deep scowl on his harsh face surrounded by slicked orange hair. His eyes stare daggers at me as he approaches with a massive, broad man in all black and wearing a very familiar helmet.

I wipe the datapad clean of any evidence and turn back to my station.

"Sorry," the assistant officer whispers from his station next to me.

The hairs on my neck prickle at the sound of the incoming bootsteps.

"Navigation officer!" Hux's sharp voice pierces through the silent space.

My spine stiffens as I turn and look at the general. "Yes, General?"

His scowl makes me feel like a reprimanded child. "This is not a playground, officer."

The shadow looming beside the general begs my attention. My eyes dart up to the masked face and my cheeks burn with both memory and humiliation. Two days ago, I knelt before the commander with his cock in my mouth, and now I'm being humiliated in front of him.

I thought I would feel his attention on me like I have before, but it's almost as if he isn't looking at me at all. I clear my throat and return my gaze to my annoyed superior. "Yes, General. It won't happen again."