Craving: A Kylo Ren Tale

Eleven

"I'll take another Moscow mule, please," I yell over the thumping bass to the bartender.

The tattooed woman behind the counter gives a friendly nod and starts mixing my fourth cocktail. I turn my attention back to the beautiful blonde at my side.

"Can I buy you a drink?" I ask, having to get right next to her ear so she can hear over the dance music.

"I think I've already had too many, but thank you, you're sweet," she replies with a smile. She has warm chocolate eyes and her hair is braided into a crown upon her head. She's stunning. The hairdo gives her a regal look, which is accented by her gold dress.

The bartender hands me a copper mug, I pass her some cash to settle my tab and tip, and down the drink in two swigs. My hand finds its way to the blonde's lower back, and I'm pleased to find it bare. Apparently the dress is backless, and the skin-on-skin sends electricity through my fingertips.

With the music too loud for conversation, she grabs my hand and leads me to the dance floor. The lights are dim except for the strobe of rainbow colors which pulse with the beat of the song, the air is thick with sweat and lust.

Women of all types are moving to the music, sensually interlaced with one another. She's in front of me, with her back pressed to my chest, as we grind to the rhythm. My hands find her waist and trail up and down her curves.

We work up a sweat, but neither of us care. Soon she turns around and we're a mess of tangled limbs, moving as one entity instead of two.

She looks at me with hungry eyes, lids heavy with the weight of the alcohol and thick eyelashes. Her hands are on my body, exploring my own curves. Mine are on her bare back, she's so fucking soft and smooth, and for a moment I forget we're in the middle of a club.

Grabbing the back of her head, I pull her hair gently so her mouth is angled perfectly for mine. She grabs my face and then our mouths collide. Her tongue tastes of vodka and cranberries, and her perfume is floral and intoxicating.

We're dancing and making out, both lost in the music and our buzzes. Eventually we pull ourselves apart and she says something to me but I can't hear over the song.

"What?" I yell back.

"My place. It's only a block away," she says into my ear.

I nod, and she takes my hand again as we head toward the coat check. After grabbing our purses and bundling up, we adventure into the night, arm in arm. Huddled together for warmth, we drunkenly make our way to her apartment.

Giggling and tripping over ourselves, we find our way into the elevator, and can't help but continue to sloppily make out on the way up. When the door opens on her floor she manages to find her keys and we start stripping as soon as we're inside, mouths only parting when necessary.

We each tear off our clothes, and she leads me through her home. I don't notice the details of her studio apartment, I only have tunnel vision for her bed. She's gorgeous half naked, in nothing but her lace panties, and her lusty eyes tell me she's pleased with my appearance as well.

I reach around my back to remove my bralette and then pull my underwear off so I'm fully bare. One small push and I shove her back onto the bed, and gently pull down the last remaining fabric covering her body. She moves to sit up and touch me, but I stop her.

"No, lay down. I need to taste you."

She lets out a small whimper and nods her head in consent.

Crawling on top of her, my mouth finds her lips again. We kiss passionately, our curves melting together. She's soft and warm and smooth and overwhelmingly feminine. I kiss her mouth, her chin, her neck, her collarbone.