Reylo: These Violent Delights

Chapter 2: Rabid Cur

WARNING: Sexually violating situation. Kylo fantasizes about Rey while she is unconscious.

—

Kylo Ren stood in front of his prisoner, Rey.

Ideally, he would have woken her by now to initiate the interrogation, but after a grueling few hours since her capture, he decided he needed this time to collect himself. The things he had done alarmed him, humiliated him, and in the last three years he had been the Supreme Leader of the galaxy, not once did he experience what this insignificant scavenger from Jakku had just put him through. Even in his reflection, he still didn't know what the fuck had happened.

All he knew was the pull to her was instantaneous, his feet carrying him across the hangar before the steam billowing around the ramp even had a chance to settle. He could have brought the Resistance shuttle down to capture the others, but no. Kylo had felt an immediate fixation with Rey, and her only. While the first glimpse into her head left him confused—how could a mangy-Kanjiklub-assassin and scavenger turned self-righteous-Resistance-fighter be of any use to him?—the deeper dive into her mind convinced him that the Force had brought him to her for a reason. That it wanted to reveal her affiliation with Skywalker so that he could collect intel on his enemies and crush them once and for all.

Oh, how painfully wrong he was. The moment Kylo swooped down to pick her up, carrying her in his arms to his command shuttle, there was a shift. A violent one, and that tug of intrigue cascaded into a full-blown obsession. All at once, the importance of her interrogation eluded him. The need to question Rey about why his mother entrusted her with Skywalker's place of exile paled in comparison to this response of being so near to her. And with each passing step his obsession got stronger, and even as he entered his onboard quarters to lay her down on the cot, Kylo hesitated to let her go. It was only when he finally found it within himself to set her down that he was able to breathe again. He had to step back, trying to understand the visceral reaction she had elicited from him, but his attempts had proven futile.

It had left him with no other choice—he thought he'd have to kill Rey before they even returned to the Finalizer. So, breaths erratic and pulse thrumming, the Supreme Leader had thrust his hand over her to collect intel with the intent of killing her right after. But when she curled up into a little ball to sleep like a fucking angel, he dropped his useless hand and took a step back. When he stayed to admire the soft rise and fall of her frame with each gentle breath, that's when his true descent into madness began.

Laying on her side with her dainty hands clasped together under her chin, Rey looked so innocent as she had slept, but the things racing through Kylo's mind were anything but innocent. They were filthy and violent and vile, and after only thirty seconds of being in such close proximity to her, he had become breathless, aching and salivating at the thought of having her. He wouldn't dare to touch her while she was unconscious, but did that stop him from thinking about all the sick things he wanted to do to her?

Of course not.

As he had stood above her, Kylo couldn't stop himself from thinking about laying her on her back, spreading her legs open and hooking a finger under her panties, sliding them down and watching the fabric slowly pull away from her cunt. He had imagined falling to his knees to position himself between hers, toying her clit with his gloved thumbs, flicking up and down to see what pressure she'd respond to most. He'd slide his hand up and down the length of her slit, spreading her slick all around, before dipping a finger in just to see how he could make her squirm.

All those disgusting, perverted thoughts? Yeah, that was all within the first two minutes after leaving Mos Eisley. The trip back to the First Order headquarters had been long, granting Kylo too much time to spiral deeper into the pit of his filthy, depraved fantasies. His need to have Rey became all-consuming, so much so that he had to make an urgent stop at his chambers the moment the shuttle docked. While it was protocol for the Supreme Leader to oversee the intake process for high-priority prisoners like her, at the time, the only thing he could possibly manage was to oversee the freeing of his aching cock from his pants.

Kylo's hands flexed behind his back. Now that it was all said and done, the urgent, fervent desire he had felt was what shamed him the most. A pathetic desire, one fueled by imagining how her pussy would taste and all the noises he could pull from her. And even though he knew it was a disgrace, it didn't stop him from dropping to his knees on his bedroom floor, fully clothed and still masked, to stroke himself. He had tried to quiet his groans and the way her name bled through his lips. Rey, Rey, Rey. But saying it aloud only made his cock spasm and throb harder as he came, his head snapping back as his seed spilled through his gloved fingers. It wasn't until Kylo's breathing settled that he heard the soft drip drip drip of his cum hitting the floor, forcing him to face what he had just done.

While his lapse in judgment cured that incessant fucking pull toward her, it still made him livid that someone as worthless as her resurfaced all the traits of the rabid cur he used to be under his late Master. He thought he had taken his power back the day he killed Snoke, and yet, in Rey's presence, he had found himself scrambling to maintain self-control once again. And she had been such a distraction, she almost made him forget everything he had accomplished as the Supreme Leader, including something that no other ruler had done before.

As though the universe was listening, a tap, tap, tap rang out from behind him. "Supreme Leader, I have an urgent report," General Parnadee said, an excited edge to her tone. "The final page in the Book of Sith has been decrypted."

Kylo took a moment to respond, keeping his eyes on Rey. "Whose entry?"

"Palpatine again, sir. The Master of Linguistics believed the entire last segment consisted of his personal writings, including the two missing pages."

He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Even though the late Emperor Palpatine had assembled the Book of Sith, the entries weren't all his. Recovered in Snoke's chambers after he was slain, Kylo discovered it was a compilation of ancient philosophies and teachings from many different Sith Lords. Since they began decoding it three years ago, it had offered a wealth of knowledge regarding the Emperor's artifacts and relics, and Kylo had hoped it would lead him to his grandfather's Jedi lightsaber.

Even though he was disappointed, he kept his tone light. "About?"

"It's a continuation of the page before, sir, about his diseased kyber crystal."

Kylo kept his back to her, but he tilted his mask to the side. "Show me."

"Yes, sir," General Parnadee said as she approached. Standing beside his prisoner, she extended her device to him.

Kylo took the datapad from her hands. He took a moment to scroll through the page, studying the Sith language of ur-Kittât, before reviewing the translated version. "Coordinates."

"Yes, sir," she said, nodding with pride. Responsible for managing the Order's archival database, discussing historical findings put General Parnadee in her element. "At the time of this entry, these coordinates belonged to the Emperor's throne room aboard the Death Star, which now lies in ruins on Kef Bir. Upon cross-examining reports in the Empire's holoarchives, there is reason to believe he stored all of his relics—including the crystal—in that location."

"Excellent work, General," the Supreme Leader praised, passing the datapad back to her. "Summon Hux. A division will accompany my knights to the wreckage."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," she beamed, dipping her head in a bow. "Can I do anything else for you, Supreme Leader?"

"Yes." When Rey's breath caught in her throat, Kylo dragged his gaze to her, speaking distractedly. "Send the Master of Linguistics to me. I require her hypothesis on the missing entries."

"We...we lost this one, too, sir," she said, her regretful voice low and soft. "Shortly after the final translation."

Kylo's voice was emotionless as he placed his hands behind his back. "Insanity or disappearance?"

"Neither, sir." Kylo saw Parnadee shuffle in his peripherals. "Suicide."

"Ah. A shame," he mused, but Kylo didn't find it to be shameful at all. He found it to be par for the course, since Albrekh—the ancient Sith alchemist who had been employed to dismantle Palpatine's sorcery—even refused to translate the text within the Book of Sith. He said that unraveling the protection spell around it was dangerous enough and that decrypting the actual text inside would result in tragedy. This message was reiterated to every Master of Linguistics the Order employed, but the lifetime supply of credits and the privilege to work alongside the Supreme Leader always got the best of them.

All 89 of them.

Parnadee cleared her throat. "If it pleases you, Supreme Leader, I will compile what she left behind, or—"

"Yes. Send it to me within the hour," Kylo muttered, taking a step closer to his prisoner. She had stirred in her restraints, causing her hair to cover her eyes, and he moved to brush it out of the way. When his fingers lingered on Rey's face to glide down her cheek, Parnadee shuffled her feet again, and Kylo didn't look at her as he granted her dismissal. "You're excused, General."

"Yes, Supreme Leader," she said, eagerly making her exit.

As he listened to General Parnadee's receding footsteps, Kylo dropped his hand and took a step back, his eyes wandering the length of the scavenger's body. She had a petite build, borderline malnourished, but he could tell that she was strong, and the dark bruises staining her ivory skin implied that she didn't shy away from a fight. Her sun-kissed brown hair was disheveled after coming loose from the three buns in the back, falling in her face and framing her gentle, feminine bone structure.

He sighed. It was a shame he had to kill her; Rey did look so pretty like this. But when he found he wasn't distracted by just how pretty she was, the Supreme Leader was confident that he would never experience such uncontrollable madness over her, or any prisoner, ever again.

Not only did he not feel the pull to her—even after touching her face—but after hearing Parnadee's report, Kylo felt normal again. In charge, in control. Optimistic, even, knowing that his knights could recover the kyber crystal in the Death Star wreckage. While he didn't find the relic to be a pressing concern with Skywalker in hiding, he knew better than to let his vigilance wane. If he had learned anything by studying his predecessors' mistakes, it was that complacency was the biggest threat to power.

Throwing one last glance at Rey, Kylo retrieved his datapad from his pocket and began to pace in front of her. He opened his commcenter to send a message to his knights.