Forever His | A Kylo Ren Assassin AU

Consumed

TWs; mentions of violence, murder, and terrorism, dub-con, SMUT.

(Kylo)

He'd relived the sounds of your moans the rest of the night like a broken record; savoring the melodies, unable to forget even for a moment the way you felt around his fingers. The way you tasted on his tongue. With every passing hour he grew more and more consumed with you, and by morning he knew that if there had been any hope of extinguishing his need for you it was already gone. It should have bothered him more, this power you held over him. To some extent he supposed it did. Maybe a small part of him that could see you as the wife of his enemy who had no business haunting his every waking and dreaming thought every moment of the day. But that part was laughably overruled by the selfish impulse to spread the same wildfire in you that you'd unleashed on him until it scorched you both.

Self denial had been his closest ally for too long; he was tired of fighting it.

After he reluctantly left your room that night, feeling a physical ache at the loss of your warmth, he knew he shouldn't be so quick to reveal in victory. Yes you'd come - at his command no less - but he'd sensed the conflict in you. The guilt you felt at letting your husband's killer have his way with you. In the morning he was sure you would have a thousand justifications to explain why you reacted the way you did. He'd forced you, you were restrained the whole time, he'd threatened the lives of everyone from your parents to the hotel staff. All of which would be true to one extent or another.

They'd also be lies.

You didn't stand on display and follow him out of the bathroom because of the gun; you knew at that point you weren't in danger. How many chances had he had to hurt you by then if he'd wanted to? No, you didn't come with him out of fear. Maybe you were afraid of the side of yourself that didn't despise him, you might have even been afraid of where he was leading you, but your life most certainly hadn't been on the line.

But he could accept for now that you needed to believe you'd been forced. If that made it possible for you to give into him, give into your passions, it was a small price to pay. It wasn't like he was a stranger to being the bad guy.

What he was a first at was giving a damn about a woman the morning after.

He wasn't delusional; he wasn't in love. Love at first sight was a fantasy for children. But he was drawn to you. Connected to you somehow. Obsessed. He'd be the first to admit that painfully apparent truth. But it was more than that. It had to be. If it had been a fantasy, some especially twisted desire to send Dameron to the grave knowing he'd had his wife, it would have been done and over quickly.

Nothing about you had ever been so simple.

But admitting this weakness was only one component of a very complex problem you'd created for him. Even if he allowed weaknesses, he couldn't afford them in his line of work. Every attachment was a potential disaster. A sure fire way to end up with a bullet in the head or stuck under someone's thumb. He had no intentions of exploring either. After years spent a slave to special forces, subjected to one living nightmare after another because he didn't have the power to fight back, he'd sworn he would never go back to that. He might work for hire now, but he chose the clients. He set the parameters. And his reputation was lethal enough that no one argued.

Well, no one currently left breathing.

Even so, making all the rules came with a price. Keeping such a unique business running with legitimate work and staying off the radar of the feds was a near impossible task. Especially the more traction he and his team gained. Word had spread of their success, the impossible kills they'd pulled off. The good news was they had their pick of obscenely well paying jobs, but the more notorious they became the bigger the targets grew on their backs.