Breeder ~ A Kylo Ren Fanfiction

12

My nerves for the sessions with Kylo Ren had pretty much dissipated into nothingness after a couple of weeks. Other than the time he'd interrogated me about Anika, he'd never hurt me. Not even his sudden, dry penetrations caused me discomfort anymore. He also rarely said more than two words, which was fine by me.

One morning, after the first truly enjoyable night of sleep I'd had since I got here, Ren entered the room with unusually slow strides, taking his time removing his gloves.

"Astrid," he said, and I thought for a moment that he was unsure of my name.

"Yes?"

"What planet are you from?" he asked, as though this were the perfect place for small talk.

"Maslot, sir," I said. "It's a marshy farm planet, we grow rice and water vegetables there, mostly. It's near the Hosnian System."

"And you had a husband, I'm assuming."

This made me falter. Right now, at the edge of the table, skirt above my waist and legs apart, was not a time I wanted to think of the love of my life whom I'd been forced to leave behind. But the image of him tying string around bundles of cloth and plant shoots to make dolls for our sons came into my mind, and tears pricked my eyes. "Yes sir, I did have a husband. And two little boys as well."

"What were their names?" he asked, seemingly unaware of the cruelness of his questions.

"My husband was called Greyson, and my sons were Klint and Farrow." Klint would be turning four soon. Farrow was only one and a half when I left; he'd still been nursing a few times a week. I wondered how they were managing without me.

His hand touched the backs of my knees hesitantly. "Is this how you... created your sons. In this position."

"Um, yes, this was one of the positions we used." My face felt hot, and I was glad my skin was too dark and coppery for it to show a blush.

"Did you do this one specifically when you were trying?"

"Well, we weren't actively trying, it just sort of happened, so there weren't specific positions we were keeping in mind for insemination."

"How magical," he muttered, and I could tell he rolled his eyes, which, for some reason, I found slightly offensive. "I'm just trying to get this done and out of the way for the sake of us both. I'm sure you aren't clambering to come here every day and be ejaculated in."

That was such a strange thing to say. Even if Ren was gay, which I wasn't convinced of, he still should've thought I loved every second of this, that's just how these guys with massive egos think. It was an oddly considerate statement for someone I'd written off as a total piece of shit. 

"Do you know what you could try?" I said. "If you put something under my hips, like a pillow or something similar, and then enter me from above, gravity will help bring the seed deeper into me." He took off what I realized was his cloak from the sound of it flapping, and, with one hand, lifted me up by the small of my back and shoved the bundled up fabric underneath me with the other in a very bizarre and probably unintentional show of strength. "You should also stay in me for longer after you finish."

"Watch your mouth," he snapped out of nowhere. "I won't be ordered around."

"Sorry sir," I said with as much respect I could manage (there wasn't a lot left). "I was only trying to be helpful."

He didn't say anything, just inserted himself into me. Because of the angle, he had to put one hand by the side of my waist to steady himself, but used the tips of his fingers so that he could still stay as far away from me as possible. 

I'd meant what I said, that going from above would, by all logic, help with making babies. I had no idea, however, that such an angle would be much more stimulating to me. It wasn't good sex by any stretch of the imagination (nothing like what I'd had with Greyson), but, just by good old physiology, this point in my vagina he was reaching was far more arousing to me than whatever he'd been hitting before. And, I guess since there was no way for him to forcibly assert control, Ren was having a hard time getting off, leading us to repeat this same motion at a steady pace for near on twenty-minutes. About fifteen in, he even mumbled a "sorry about this" out of shame. Those last thrity seconds were almost blissful.

But, of course, it came to an eventual end with him sheathing himself as deeply as he could, remembering what I told him about staying inside longer. Due to his exhaustion from the effort combined with all those loopy hormones his cock sent to his brain, he could hardly hold himself up, dropping down both arms, palms flat on either side of me. For the first time in all our sessions, I was looking him in the eyes.

I didn't flinch away and neither did he. His face was sweaty, sweatier than I thought it would be, fat droplets above his upper lip and at his temples. He examined my face like he was reading a map, and I realized I must look hideous from this angle, my neck bunching up in a second chin, curly hair splayed everywhere like an angry sea monster, lips dry and chewed raw from the lack of moisture here (and anywhere compared to Maslot).

But he didn't look at me like I was hideous, or like I was pretty, or like I was a human being. Kylo Ren looked at me like I was an especially confusing science experiment. When he realized he'd been caught staring, he seemed visibly ashamed and moved backwards like he was going to leave.

"No," I said, grabbing his upper arm. "Not yet."

His bicep muscles tensed, I could feel them even through his uniform, but he didn't shove me away, so I left my hand there. Slowly, out of a morbid curiousity, I reached my hand higher, sliding up until I reached the bare skin of his neck, continuing until I laced my hand through his long, black hair.

"Do you like that?" I asked. My voice contained no sexual innuendo, no flirting. I was genuinely asking him if he liked it- if he was capable of appreciating human interaction.

"Yes," he whispered.

I brought my hand down to his face, my thumb rubbing circles along his cheekbone causing his eyelids to flutter closed. "Do you like this?" I asked, to which he only nodded. "What about this?" I asked, before wrapping my legs around his waist, intertwining my ankles. 

Whatever strength he had left gave out and his arms buckled causing him to slam down on his elbows, breath shuddering out of him. But he didn't feel pain; he felt relief. That emotion poured off of him in waves, but it couldn't stop my racing heart. When he looked into my eyes again, he saw only one emotion: fear. That noise, him falling on me, it made me remember that he was the predator and I was the prey.

Through gritted teeth, he hissed, "That's enough," and pushed himself off me, his penis leaving me with a sickening squelch. 

Without warning, he ripped his cape out from underneath him causing my pelvis to knock against the table painful. "Ow," I whimpered, but he didn't apologize or pay attention. He simply shoved his cock back in his pants, grabbing his gloves and leaving without putting them on or even redoing his buckle.