Purpose: A Kylo Ren Tale

Ten

"Where are we?"

"You are in your cottage. And I am in my personal quarters," says Kylo Ren.

I sit up in his bed, inspecting my surroundings. He's more dressed down than I've ever seen him, sitting cross legged on the other side of the mattress, watching me. His black sheets drape across my lap and I'm aware of the fact that I'm in nothing but my nightgown.

I do not feel ashamed of my appearance. I'm comfortable.

His large room is mostly bare. No personal items that I can see. Everything is either black or white, it's harsh and impersonal, and it couldn't be more opposite from my room. The only furniture is a bed, dresser, and bookshelf, and I sense that he's not the decorating type. My eyes land on the far wall. From floor to ceiling, it's clear glass. I look out into the universe. Nothing but stars.

"You're on a battlecruiser," I mutter to myself more than to him. "I've never been on one before."

He chuckles, which is a new sound to me, and responds, "Technically, you still haven't been on one."

I turn my attention back to him, equally amused for a different reason. There sits Kylo Ren, First Order Commander, Prince of Darkness, Apprentice to almighty Supreme Leader Snoke. In his pajamas.

Well, sort of. A black tee shirt and black sweatpants, but close enough. It's the first time I've seen him without the armor or gloves. His bare arms are muscular and luring, his hands are large and seductive. I drink up the sight.

"Meditation is going well, I see."

"Yes, Sir."

We're sitting on opposite sides of the bed, both of us in our night clothes. Exposed. There is an electricity in the air. For a few minutes we just sit, silently observing one another.

My eyes slowly trace his face. Trail along his jaw. Follow the crook of his neck to his muscular shoulders. Travel down his bicep, forearm, wrist. I settle on his left hand, palm down on his knee. It's only a few inches away from my right hand which rests on my own leg.

I want to reach out, touch his skin.

And then it dawns on me. During our encounters, I have never once touched Kylo Ren.

No parts of our bodies have ever met, in any way. I've been in close proximity to him, at times he's even been tantalizingly close. Fuck, he's been inside my mind. And yet we have never had any sort of physical contact.

I lift my hand.

"We can't," he says simply, before I reach out to him.

"And why not?" I snap. "I want you, you want me. Let go."

He looks back at me, and although I can't read his thoughts, I can see the gears in his mind turning. I see the pulse in his neck quicken ever so slightly. I see his hand clench into a loose fist.

"I believe you meant 'Why not, Sir.'"

His eyes darken.

I smirk.

I can play this game. He does not intimidate me.

"You still lack patience. Always demanding what you want when you want it. You do not tell me what to do, Witch. Control your impulses, or I will control them for you."

I wish he would control me.

"I heard that."

He stands from the bed. His eyes have that wild predatory look, and I know he intends to follow through with his threat. I decide in that moment that I am comfortable letting him do whatever the hell he wants with me. I crave him in all capacities. My fingers tingle with anticipation.