DEFIANT • kylo ren (18+)

32 - What?

You hadn't exactly lied to the knights. Telling them that those men are dead was the quickest, easiest, way to keep them from digging up information about you and your past.

The knife was coated in blood. Your hands shared the same sticky, deep red, substance. The floor. The table. The wall. The men. The strippers. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. It was everywhere. Sticky. Sickly.

You were at a standstill. The blade in your grasp had done it's damage. The ones in the Suit's hands were held at the throats of naked women.

Now, their lives lay in your hands.

It was you or them.

You're half asleep on Kylo's lap, eyes drooping. His large hands are holding you so safely, at the waist, your thigh, and your head resting against his chest is rhythmic. The steady heartbeat and warmth of his body had lulled you into your half-present state.

He let you sleep. Or not sleep. He must know that you're somewhat conscious. Or maybe he doesn't, and you're blocking him from that just as you are your thoughts. You're never actually sure of anything with him.

He's speaking to the knights lowly, their voices merging into a husky murmur of collective speech. They've been talking for an hour or so. Maybe longer.

Vicrul was knocked out, but is now awake, and your feet are touching his leg slightly. Usually that would make you nervous, but with Kylo here you don't care at all. Vic was grumpy at first, but ultimately, Ren is his master and he had to let it go.

The alcohol had hit you with this wave of tiredness. You tried to fight it, but now you've given in and the closer Kylo's hand drifts up your thigh the warmer and happier you feel.

The tip of his pointer finger is practically touching you between your legs, and though you're tired and drunk you wish he'd just touch you properly. Caress you. Stroke and plunge and rub and - Gods, now you're squirming and trying to reposition, but it's only adjusted his finger closer to your core.

"Commander," you mumble, but it's more of a sigh, and you hear the knights finish their conversation to let you talk.

"Yes?" The dark voice returns, quiet enough but gruffer than you'd hoped.

"Stop that." You press your face into his chest and move your hands to his hand, large as it holds the width of your thigh easily. The span of his fingers have allowed him to tease you, openly, without it being too obvious. You tug on them, but he does not budge.

"Stop what?" The hand previously holding your waist disappears, fingers weaving into your hair instead and pulling your head back from his chest. He tilts your face to look into his eyes, dark and unforgiving. His features are almost regal. You're frozen, eyes wide at the sight of him.

"What?" You've forgotten what you wanted.

"Good," he praises, "exactly." His finger slides over the fabric of your boxers, lightly, but this time directly over the front of your pussy. Your breath gets caught in your throat and makes a gasping noise.

You tug at his wrist to stop him, cheeks blushing, as your eyes flick to Ushar and Trudgen, who are sat across from you - watching.

Both of them are wearing an expression you've never seen on them before. Darkened eyes. Ushar has the back of his hand over his mouth casually, as if struggling to talk, or not talk, and the Force rushes an overwhelming sensual feeling from them. Sexual. Turned on. T has his eyebrows raised, looking at Ushar, who ignores his wide-eyed expression.

You next look to Vicrul, who is staring ahead like he's trying to ignore you. You look back at Ushar, trying to understand, all while attempting to ignore the hand between your legs.