Craving: A Kylo Ren Tale

Twenty-Seven

"Such a very good girl," he praises.

He's standing in the doorway to my room, eyes slightly glossy from a night out. As his gaze is wandering up and down my body, his hands are removing his clothing.

I watch as he watches me.

First his jacket, large clasps being undone by much larger hands. His boots and socks. His black dress shirt, hands trailing the buttons from collar to waist. Then his belt, undoing the buckle seamlessly. And now he's unzipping his pants, tossing them to the side.

God. I can tell how hard he is from here.

"How long have you been wearing them?"

I glance to the clock and then back to him. "Three hours."

His face isn't remorseful or penitent. He's pleased.

It's always a game for Kylo, and the deck is always stacked in his favor. I know he was out drinking with friends or colleagues or god knows who, getting off on the idea that I was dutifully waiting for him in chains.

And I am ever obedient.

He walks to the bed, standing over me, staring down at me. Eyes glittering with liquor and lust. He devours me with his stare, and the intensity on his face is enough to cause my heart to beat wildly between my thighs.

Instead of joining me on the bed, he reaches out and grabs the handcuffs between my wrists and yanks me upward. The metal digs into my skin, stinging in a tantalizing way, as he roughly drags me from the bed and into the living room.

It's only dimly lit, the entryway lamp is on but the seating area is mostly dark. He pulls me by the cuffs with one hand, throws open the curtains with another.

We're standing in our undergarments, backlit and shadowy, in front of the giant picture window. If anyone happened to look up to our hotel suite, they'd see Kylo placing both hands around my wrists and click click clicking the metal tighter. They'd see him pushing me to my knees before him.

"Show them who you belong to," he commands.

I'm feeling a heady mix of shame, thrill, nervousness, lust, submission, voyeurism. Knowing that at any point someone could look up and see my bound hands reaching to lower his boxer briefs and pull out his stiff cock.

He stares down at me, doesn't glance towards the window like I do every so often. I can tell he's loving my reaction- he's always pushing my buttons and pushing the boundaries of where I feel comfortable.

When I use both hands to stroke up and down his length, the metal cuffs clink against one another.

My eyes stay on his when I slowly lick my tongue up the underside of his shaft. The sensation causes him to shudder and his hand finds my hair. His grip is unkind and my scalp is on fire, but in this moment it feels incredible.

His free hand grabs my jaw and my lips part reactively, he wastes no time putting his dick in my mouth and pushing the back of my head down his length until I gag slightly.

"That's right baby, show them," he croons while I slurp and suck. Both of his large hands are tangled in my hair, bobbing me up and down as he fucks my face.

I come up for air, gasping as spit dribbles down my chin and my hands continue to stroke. They're twisting the base of his cock while my tongue swirls across the tip, and whenever I glance up at Kylo he's staring down at me unblinkingly. Transfixed.

I can tell he's close, can feel his neediness in his thrusts. But instead of cumming down my throat, he pulls out and stands in front of me.