Wolf

You knew some of the others would be discreetly rolling their eyes or inwardly scoffing at you. You’re well aware of how they see you—as his pet, the pretty thing he tugs around with him to keep himself company, but you don’t care. The only opinion that’s ever mattered is his, proven when he lays a heavy hand on the top of your head and there’s an automatic low chirp of appreciation in your throat. You can feel him relax after he inhales your pheromones, letting it soothe the worst of his rage. That’s why the officials of the First Order don’t throw a fit over you being in the room anymore; you manage to keep him from choking anyone to death, or running them through with crackling red plasma, and as long as you wear your shiny collar and keep to yourself, they really can’t be bothered. They used to sneer at you and call you names, but Kylo was quick to put them in their place.

After one general makes a final proposal and there are murmurs of agreement throughout the room, Kylo moves his hand to your neck and tugs on your collar, silently telling you to get up. You do your best not to stumble, the numbness in your legs making it difficult to walk and follow your alpha into the endless halls of the Steadfast. This is what most of your daily routine consists of—tagging along to his conferences, waiting quietly next to him like a good omega, and then trailing behind him across the rest of the ship. You recall a time when you would’ve been listening in on every conversation, every scrap of a battle plan that you could use if you were to escape, but you gave up on that dream a long time ago, and have since stopped listening. You tune out the statistics, the growing numbers of the dead and conquered because there isn’t a single thing you can do to help them, especially when your own people are lost amongst the digits somewhere.

He’d saved you. He didn’t destroy what minuscule, inconsequential family you’d ever known, he didn’t raze your home, Kylo had saved you. You recall being told that same string of words over and over for months in a lonely cell that they called a bedroom until you’d begun to believe it, until you didn’t lurch away from his touch with a hiss, until you’d let him bring you food and watch you eat because he needed to know his omega wasn’t starving herself to death. After so much work, you’d let him ghost his fingers over your glands without biting like a feral animal, and you started craving his scent all the time despite the way it made a part of you that you were steadily losing hold of sick. It was at that point when he’d taken you out of confinement and brought you to his rooms, given you proper nesting materials so he’d appear ever so generous, so it was easier when your heat finally rolled around and you let him fuck you until you couldn’t object to his teeth indenting the conjecture of your neck and shoulder and tying you both together for eternity.

It’s better this way, you know that. It’s better to have an alpha to watch over you and make sure you’re safe, to feed into the primal instincts you hardly have control over. You struggled on your home planet, or at least you think you did, you can’t really remember. So yes, this is definitely better.

You didn’t realize you’d reached your shared quarters until the hydraulic doors opened with a beep from the bioscanner. Your combined scents wash over you when you step into the main room, every inch coated with the musk of wood and maple over a fire, a layer of strong, spiced cinnamon just underneath. You discovered that Kylo is what people would call an apex alpha, essentially meaning he has dominion over any others, and he can give commands to other alphas and they’d practically be forced to obey. His scent is cloying and thick because of it, sometimes being so strong that you can’t think past it. It’s made you wonder why someone of his stature chose you out of any other omega he could’ve had.

His boots thud powerfully against the tile with each step he takes before he stops and turns to you, yanking roughly on your collar. It’s made from fine, dense leather, with a lock on the back that only Kylo has the key to. It’s to keep your glands protected around the ship, to keep them hidden so nobody has to properly acknowledge what you are. “On your knees,” He tells you, his voice deep and robotic from behind his helmet, the red veins coursing through it catching the light. You can’t see his eyes, but you can feel how intensely they’re watching you, and it unnerves you. It always has.

Your lashes flutter, your only sign of hesitation, before you’re sinking to the floor in the same way you had just an hour prior, bringing you level with the erection that’s been steadily growing in his pants. You glance up at him, your next swallow difficult, and his head tilts. “Go on,” Kylo says, scent getting headier by the second. The hand he puts on your head is rougher this time, gloved fingers digging into your scalp, void of the warm thanks he’d given you during the meeting.

You reach forward, undoing his clasp and zipper, pulling the waistband of his boxers down enough so his cock springs free. He’s half hard already, the heavy weight of him bobbing in front of you, a bead of precum waiting on his tip. The pure alpha smell of him overwhelms you, makes your core ache and clench around nothing at just the sight of him, slick already beginning to drip into your underwear. Kylo can scent your reaction to his lust, and it quickly gets him fully erect without any other help from you, his chest heaving with his labored breaths. You take him into your hand, the heat radiating into your palm, pulsing under your touch, and begin to pump while you kiss along the shaft.

Your thumb comes up to swipe the precum from his slit, using it as lubricant to make things easier. You lick a stripe from the thickened base where his knot would grow to the head, the salt of him settling on your tongue, before taking him into your mouth. His groan from above you encourages you, swallowing him as far as he’d go until his tip hits the back of your throat, and you fight not to gag. You circle the part of his cock you can’t fit with your fingers, flicking your wrist in time with your movement up and down his length. Spit drools out from between your lips, dripping onto the tile that reflects what you’re doing back at you in such clarity that it’s demeaning. Your pussy throbs with neglect, and you widen your knees so you can attempt to get whatever friction you can from the floor.

You use your free hand to cup his balls, massaging the scrotum while he twitches in your throat, his grip on your hair tightening to a near painful degree. He uses his hold on you to push you down the rest of the way on his dick, and you have to hollow your cheeks to avoid choking and ignore the sudden lack of airflow. He fucks your mouth with abandon, obscene noises quick to fill any empty space in the room as spit and precum coat your chin. Tears burn in your eyes, and at some point you feel his hand release you, though he uses the Force to keep you right where he wants you. You distantly hear the latches of his helmet come undone and then the hunk of metal gets dropped to the ground, and past your watery vision, you can just barely see his flushed face, red dusting his angular nose, slack-jawed as he pants.

He takes your head and keeps you against his pelvis, his hot cum shooting down your throat, forcing you to swallow and breathe through your nose so you don't suffocate. He waits until you’ve taken every last drop, until the aftershocks are finished, before letting you go. You sputter and cough, gratefully taking in lungfuls of air, the taste of his spend lingering on your taste buds. Your jaw aches, your throat burns, and your underwear is sticking to your cunt from how wet you are. He walks by you and you wonder if he’s going to leave you like this—he has before—but then he sits on the couch, leaning back, not bothering to tuck away his softening cock.

“Come on, right here,” he orders, patting his thigh, “you know what to do.”

You’re quick to stand on unsteady legs, to straddle the meat of his thigh and sink onto it with his hands on your waist to steady you. The pressure brings an instant relief that has you mewling, your sweetened scent exploding like pollen, your hips rotating to drag your clothed pussy up and down his pants. There’s a wet spot already forming with how much slick you’ve produced, with more still flowing from your needy cunt. Kylo keeps one hand on you while he uses the other to jerk himself off, already at half-mast again just from seeing how desperate you are. “Did you think I’d leave you unsatisfied?” Kylo teases, watching you eagerly work for your own pleasure. You shake your head, but he knows it’s a lie. “After you were so well behaved during the meeting, I figured you deserved something, right?”

“Y-yes, Kylo-” You moan. “Please- want you inside me.” If he would just fuck you properly, he could get the spot inside you that makes it impossible to think, he could knot you and-

“No. I can’t have you stuck on me, I have things to attend to after this,” He says, much to your dismay. You whimper, grinding your clit roughly against his thigh. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning on a week-long expedition. The Knights will look after you.”

If you weren’t so close to an orgasm, you would’ve stopped in your tracks. “N-no, alpha, please- take me with you-” You beg. “I don’t like them.”

Kylo huffs a laugh, quickening the pace on his cock. “It’s too dangerous for you, omega.” He says, his tone taking on an edge as he nears his own climax. “The only way I can trust you here alone is if they’re watching you. You’ll be good for them. Agreed?”

You want to object. You want to plead that he bring you along, even if he’s fighting deadly monsters or raiders because you can be quiet, you can stay in the back of the ship if it means not having to stay with those six alphas who look at you like you’re their next meal—but you can’t do that. You heard the beginnings of a command in his voice, and it’ll only turn into a full one if you go against him. So you nod, even as frustrated tears fill your waterline. “Good girl,” He says breathlessly, head falling back, his scent covering you like a blanket as his dick jumps in his gloved palm. “Lift your shirt.”

You do, keeping it just above your tits with a shaky hand so he can cum on the soft skin of your belly, globs of white dripping down and pooling in your waistband. You whine, the knot in your gut finally unraveling, your orgasm washing over you and making you feel weak. Gods, you’re a sweaty, nasty mess, covered in one too many fluids. You stink of sex and Kylo, and your inner omega is rather pleased about it.

“Get cleaned up. I’ll be back later,” Kylo says, removing you from him and plopping you onto the cushions. You stupidly want to ask him to stay, to curl up with you in your nest, but you keep your mouth shut to avoid the inevitable humiliation when he refuses. So instead you watch him disappear into the bedroom to change his robes, grab his helmet, and exit your quarters so the only thing you have to keep you occupied is your own self-wallowing at the fate that awaits you when Kylo’s off on his trip.

You really dislike the Knights of Ren. They’re loud, rude, and cruel, and none of their scents are nearly as good as your alpha’s. They treat you like free game, and you’re sure that if it wasn’t for the rules Kylo put in place, you’d spend every second of every day on one of their knots. They had been told by their master that they were allowed to do anything with you except knot you or cum inside you, and under no circumstances was your collar to ever come off. So when you’re unfortunately left alone with them, you often find yourself bent over so they can rut against you through your pants or with a dick in your mouth. Sometimes, when they were feeling especially nice, they’d lie you over a surface and eat you out until you begged them to stop because you couldn’t cum anymore.

When this dynamic was first introduced seven months ago, Kylo had watched with a hard-on as one of his Knights played with you. He needed to make sure they could restrain themselves with a pretty omega like you, ensuring they wouldn’t wreck you like they would a common whore that they’d find on one of their controlled planets. You still remember how Ushar had looked at his master when he was brought into the room where you were lying bare on the bed, cunt glistening with slick, and had been given permission. Ushar had thought it was a trap and he’d get sliced through as soon as he got near your pussy, but Kylo had encouraged him instead. He’d told him how to lick you, where to press his fingers to make you spasm, and after Ushar was done and ordered to leave and go jerk off somewhere, Kylo had plugged you with his knot and his cum so you didn’t forget who your true alpha was.

Your one small mercy is that Kylo allowed you to lock the bedroom door if you truly wanted them to leave you be. You ruminate on that while you dry your hair after your very thorough shower, then collapse onto the bed where your nest is located. You rearrange it so that everything is closer together, so you have either blankets, pillows, or Kylo’s clothes pressed against you from all sides. His scent, much calmer here than it was when you were sucking his cock, is like a balm to your frayed nerves, and it lulls you into a fitful nap.

» ☆ «

Kylo leaves you before zero-six-hundred the next morning, scenting you one final time while you were half awake before you heard the bedroom door shut and lock behind him. You’d easily gone back to sleep, ignoring your impending doom until later.

When you wake again, multiple hours have passed and your mouth is disgustingly dry. You regretfully force yourself out of your nest that’s still fresh with Kylo’s scent and drink from the tap in the bathroom, refusing to leave the solitude of your bedroom just yet. Kylo had taken two of the Knights with him to whatever backwater planet his mission called for, so that meant there were four of them left behind with you. It’s better than six but still four too many, you’d say. You wind up spending the entire day’s cycle in your room, wrapped in your nest, only moving when the smell of food wafts in through the door. As much as the Knights hate you being cooped up in there, Kylo would have their heads or other extremities if they let you go hungry, so they leave meals for you just outside in the hallway. You dart out and grab it quickly like a rat, sometimes getting a whiff of whatever alpha left it there.

You similarly wasted the second cycle. You would’ve continued this all week if you weren’t miserably bored out of your mind and Kylo’s scent hadn’t begun to go stale. By the third day, you decided you needed something to do, since your alpha had left you with no holopad, books, or games to keep you entertained. You figured the archives would be your best solution, with all its copies of old legends and information on every living thing you could imagine. Getting to read all the articles and reports was the one thing you truly enjoyed about being here, and it was a treat when Kylo would make time to take you to the vast rooms full of digital records. You hope one of the Knights will bring you there without it costing you something.

You peek out of your bedroom, finding the hall empty but still laced with a mix of scents, so you venture further. You still don’t see anyone when you reach the living space, which you briefly think is odd, and carry on. The main door is unlocked, so it would be very easy for you to slip out and find your own way without an escort, and you’re about to do just that before firm hands grab you and smack you against the wall. You yelp at the force of it, as Ap’lek’s scent floods your senses while he glowers down at you. He smells like steel and burning coal, harsh and intense, and you can feel it sticking to the roof of your mouth.

“What were you doing?” He demands. Strands of dark brown fall loose from his slick-backed hair, tired hazel eyes alight with an anger that never seems to go away. He’s usually clean-shaven, but now there’s stubble lining his jaw. “You think just because your alpha is gone that you can misbehave?”

You shake your head. “No, I just wanted to go-”

You don’t get to finish before you’re getting pushed to the ground. “I don't care,” He snaps. Your knees get nudged wide, your ass up and your face pressed against the cold floor. “You want to go somewhere, you ask one of us, you hear me?”

“Y-yes, alpha,” You mumble, your outward sigh of defeat fogging the tile.

You hear the jangle of belts coming undone and armor being shucked away, Ap’lek’s pants brought down just enough to free his bulge which he presses against your cunt through the layers between you. You whimper at the contact, the warmth of him bleeding into you when he folds himself over you, grinding his cock with rhythmic moves of his hips. The stimulation quickly has slick wetting your underwear, your omega body always so fast to do whatever it can to please whichever alpha has decided to have a turn with you. When he ruts at just the right angle he brushes your clit, and you can’t help but moan at the sparks of pleasure igniting your limbs. His scent has become so thick around you, covering you in it, kicking over the fading traces of Kylo. You know how much Ap’lek enjoys that, especially as the undeclared leader whenever their master is away. He must love to pretend that something of Kylo’s is his for a brief moment.

“Oh fuckin’- even like this you feel so good, omega. That wet fuckin’ pussy, wish I could be inside-” He growls, the tinge at the edge of his scent betraying his jealousy of his master, and his desire to knot you. He reaches back to fumble with his boxers, yanking them out of the way so he can rub his bare, aching cock through the soaked outline of your folds. He buries his face in your neck, nosing at the collar, trying to get at your glands in any way that he can. His pace picks up, jostling you with each snap of his pelvis, your knees threatening to buckle.

“It’s not fair, I should get to fuck you like Master. Show that cunt what a real cock feels like,” He rambles. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re such a slut I think you’d love having all of us in you. Hell, one of us would knock you up and then Master would have to let us claim you, yeah? Wouldn’t that be nice?” He’s spurred on by his own fantasy, ignoring the way you try to disagree because no, that would not be nice. Having all seven of the alphas as a mate would be a nightmare, tied to them forever, constantly feeling their thoughts and emotions, and you can only imagine the kind of fights that would start.

You startle at how quickly his weight falls off of you as he abruptly stands. “Come on, up. Pull those down,” He orders, frantically pumping his cock in his hand, motioning to your pants. When you hesitate, barely comprehending his orders through the haze of a denied orgasm, he snarls. “Now, omega.”

You oblige this time, knowing better than to disobey, shimmying your pants and underwear halfway down your legs, spreading the fabric for him. He steps closer until his tip is nearly against your clit and then he’s spilling into your panties, rope after rope of cum dripping off your pussy and onto your underwear while he groans in relief. Your face burns while he tucks himself back into his pants and pulls yours back up with a self-satisfied smirk. You can feel the way his seed smears along your slick-soaked cunt, making an utter mess of you, your nails digging painfully into your palms in an attempt to ignore the discomfort. “Keep my cum right there unless you want me to use your mouth like last time, okay? I know how much you hate to swallow,” He purrs, patting your cheek demeaningly. He takes his helmet off the kitchen counter where he’d left it and brushes by you, pointedly locking the main door after he exits.

You pitifully retreat to your nest, too humiliated to do anything else. You lose track of how much time passes with you doing your best to avoid thinking about the sloppy wetness between your thighs that you clench together as your pussy flutters around nothing because some awful part of you is turned on by this. You hate it—the submissive, disgustingly omega side of you that loves when they claim you, when they cover you in their cum. You groan to yourself, wishing the week was over already so that Kylo would come back and you could be in his strong arms, surrounded by smoky wood and cinnamon maple.

You jump when the door to your bedroom opens because damnit you thought you’d locked it. Vicrul stands there, his helmet and most of his layers off, his curly dirty blond hair almost falling in front of his deep green eyes. His face is angled and yet soft, though the scars marring his neck and cheek betray his true nature. “I’m tired, Vicrul,” You say, sounding extra pathetic on purpose in hopes he’d turn around and go.

“You left the door open, sweetness, that means you wanted a visitor,” He says and you pout, knowing that technically he’s right and still abiding by the rules. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

You could scoff at that. None of them are nice. They all want something from you, whether it be having their scent on you for the day, their cum, or making you orgasm so many times it turns you stupid—none of them are innocent. Being nice would involve giving you a bath, or hot food, or gifting you soft nesting materials, not ruining yet another pair of pants after they humped you raw and decided to spill wherever they saw fit.

Vicrul pulls you by your ankles to the end of the bed, kissing your belly when it’s exposed by your shirt bunching up. “Smells like Ap’lek got to you first, huh?” He says, taking the waistband of your pants and underwear and gently pulling them off, watching as strings of semen go with them. He tuts. “Poor little thing. I bet he didn’t let you cum either, hm?”

You tearfully shake your head, glad to be free of your soiled clothes. “Sounds about right,” Vicrul coos. “He’s always been terrible about taking care of his things. It’s okay, baby, I’m here.”

His scent and demeanor manage to calm you, smelling like fresh rain on blooming trees, with the undercurrent of hardy leather that all of the Knights seem to have. He slings your legs over his wide shoulders and goes in, licking a fat stripe from hole to clit, collecting his comrades’ cum along the way. You moan when he presses the flat of his tongue to your bundle of nerves, swirling it around and sucking it into his mouth, your body tingling with the pleasure of it. A content rumble echoes in Vicrul’s chest as he laps up the slick that’s begun to drip out of you, making sure to gather every bit of it and Ap’lek’s release. You’re already shiny with spit and arousal, and it coats the lower half of Vicrul’s face, the noises of his slurping filling your ears. After Ap’lek teased you earlier, your orgasm comes fast, and before you can prepare yourself, you’re gushing into Vicrul’s mouth with a cry.

“Good job, baby. Doing so well for me,” He says, giving himself just a moment to catch his breath. Then he brings one of his hands around, cold and calloused without his gloves in the way, and collects your slick before pushing his second and third finger in to the knuckle. You let out a breathless mewl at finally being filled after getting relentlessly teased, your pussy weeping from being empty for so long, your body writhing on the bed. The alpha hums. “Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it? That’s it.”

He slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of you, letting you adjust despite not really needing to given how pliant and ready you were. He adds his tongue, focusing it on your clit, writing letters you can’t comprehend with his saliva. Your cunt sucks him in, begging him deeper so he can press against the soft spot of your walls that makes you arch up with a high-pitched noise you didn’t know you were capable of. Another orgasm is steadily building, still riding the high of the last one, a pleasant buzzing having encompassed you from your head to your toes. You cum again without much work, clenching hard around Vicrul’s fingers, soaking the sheets and blankets underneath you.

“Just a few more, baby, alright? Need to make sure I get it all out of you,” He says, even though you already feel spent and frayed like a live wire with his digits still working your pussy. “What do you say?”

”Th-thank you, thank you-” You gasp.

“Thank you…?” He prompts.

“Thank you, alpha!” You sob, heels digging into his shoulders, his other hand clamping you down to keep you from getting away.

He brings you to climax three more times, relentless with his ministrations, his scent perfuming when he sees the tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. You’re shaking when he’s finally done with you, your limbs twitching and your mind blanked out. He licks his fingers clean, and when he stands, there’s a wet spot on the front of his pants from when he came while rutting against the bed. He knows you don’t have the ability to form words at the moment, so he merely pats your leg and leaves you there to collect yourself.

He at least has the decency to lock the door for you on his way out.

» ☆ «

You can’t recall much of the following days. More often than not, you’d find yourself out of your bedroom and in the common rooms, surrounded by one or multiple of the Knights. It was hard to get away from them, your omega enticed by their overwhelming alpha scents, especially with Kylo out on business. You let them do what they wished, knowing it’d be pointless to resist, and made yourself lean into it instead. You sat on Trudgen’s face while Ushar fucked your mouth, you followed Vicrul into his room for a night because he told you he wanted your scent on his bed, you sat in Ap’lek’s lap for hours and didn’t say a word about how much the buckles and straps of his armor bit into your skin.

There was a point when you were lying against Ushar’s chest where you felt him bite into the leather of your collar, undoubtedly leaving teeth marks as he seemed to test its durability. For a panicked moment, you had considered what would happen if it managed to snap off. The four alphas left behind would probably take their chance, knotting you so you couldn’t squirm and leaving their marks on your neck, right next to Kylo’s. All of them would do it without Kylo here to stop them, successfully cementing their places, knowing that Kylo wouldn’t be able to kill them because of how badly it would mess you up. It would send you into a depressive psychosis if four of your mates died so suddenly, a fate worse than death for an omega. Though beyond your biological designation, you’d be glad to get rid of them.

You’re lucky Kylo didn’t get a collar that flimsy. The one he gave you is expertly made, reinforced under the tough leather with a very thin metal that makes it nearly unbreakable. Ushar had seemed to realize this and gave up on whatever ideas he had in his head, leaving you and your collar alone.

When you get up one morning and find all of them gone, that’s how you know Kylo is coming back. You excitedly wait for him, feeling no different than a pet wagging its tail while waiting for its owner to return. At least an hour goes by before you hear the hydraulic door activate and open with a hiss of air. Kylo’s scent is what hits you first, so strong and consuming that it could bring you to your knees. Smoked wood with maple oozing from its center, dusted with the spice of cinnamon that makes your mouth water, heightened to an extreme degree. You piece together what it means—his rut started. You’re sure that’s why all of the Knights fled, knowing how at risk they were of getting ripped in two if Kylo saw them around his omega while he was in the peak of a rut. He gets dangerous and volatile towards those around him, more so than he already is, so for the safety of the ship, the two of you lock yourselves away until it’s over.

“Kylo-” You start when you finally see him, his presence sucking all of the air out of the room, commanding you to look at him, only him. He reaches you in quick strides, his helmet coming off halfway so you can see his eyes that have been swallowed by his pupils, the rosy tint to his face. He kisses you before you can say another word, crashing your mouths together, and reaches behind you to unclip your collar for the first time in over a week. You chirp gratefully for it, for being free of the way it would scratch your glands, your scent now fully uninhibited and swirling around his.

He picks you up with ease, your legs coming to wrap around his waist, his hands assuredly leaving bruises on your thighs. He takes you to the bedroom, lying you stomach-down on the freshly changed sheets and his weight presses you entirely into the mattress, his crotch rubbing against your ass with each shift of his body. One hand crawls up your neck to firmly grip your jaw, forcing your lips open to stick his gloved index and middle against your tongue. The leather is rich and dry, instantly soaking up the saliva that pools in your mouth. He noses at your scent gland, a displeased growl rumbling in his chest that makes you freeze. “You fucking reek of my Knights. I can tell they covered you in cum,” He says lowly, a shiver traveling down your spine. He knows how much enjoyment they derived from having their scents on you, from pretending that you were only theirs for a brief moment, that it wasn’t his teeth indented on your neck. You were a perfect little toy for them, he can see it in your memories. “Should I fuck you in front of them? Show them who really owns you?”

Your responding objection is high and keening, your nails digging into the blankets as you try to worm your way out from under him. It’s ultimately unsuccessful given how much heavier he is and corded with muscle, and it only serves to get you pinned further. “What’s that? I can’t hear you,” Kylo taunts, finally releasing your mouth so you can gasp for a full breath.

“No, no, please- I only want you Kylo, please-” You beg. You’ve been put through a lot this past week, and you think being spread and knotted in front of those six hungry, depraved alphas like a bitch in heat would be your breaking point.

“That’s what I thought,” He snarls, inclining his head downwards to take your mating gland and bite. Oxygen is punched from your lungs, your hands scrabbling uselessly at the thick arm next to your head as your bond is renewed. Your mixed scents burst together, your senses overloaded so the sole thing you can think of and feel is him. You feel your arousal begin to drip, your body so desperate for your mate, silently pleading with him to give you his knot. His teeth release you with a pop, your mark now nice and fresh, small beads of red coming to the surface where his canines have punctured. He licks over it instinctually while yanking your pants down, taking your underwear with them, and tossing them with abandon.

He tilts your ass up, giving him better access so he can plunge his first two fingers into your cunt. You make a choked sort of noise as he scissors you open, slick lazily oozing out around his knuckles, preparing you for the girth of his cock. “Still so tight, even with my Knights keeping you busy,” He mutters half to himself while your cheeks are on fire. You open-mouth pant as he puts pressure on your gummy walls, as the heel of his palm grinds against your clit. Tears well in your eyes with the sensation of an oncoming orgasm, your pussy spasming, your moans growing in pitch. They quickly switch to a frustrated groan when you find yourself abruptly empty, your hips shifting backwards in an attempt to chase his fingers.

”Need to feel you on my cock,” Kylo says roughly as some sort of explanation, flipping you over onto your back so he can see your flushed face. He tosses your shirt off, and his is quick to follow, though he has a few more layers to deal with than you do. While he throws his tunic over his head, your nipples pebble in the cold air of the room, goosebumps rising along your arms. He rips his gloves off so the entire upper half of him is bare, every scar and sculpted muscle presented to you. He doesn’t bother with his pants, instead just undoing them enough to free himself. He encompasses you with his wide body, your nails digging into his shoulders while he brings a warm palm up to grope your tits. He massages the soft skin, occasionally pinching your nipple between his fingers, liking the way you arch into it.

Kylo uses his other hand to guide his cock, dragging the head through your folds to collect your slick and then bullying himself inside. Your legs fall open around him, your noises barely more than breaths as he fills you to the point you think you can feel him in your gut when he bottoms out. “Shit,” He hisses, his back rippling as he props himself up on his arms, fingers digging into the blankets on either side of you. The only thing on your mind is his scent, his face, his body, his cock hot and pulsing inside of you, and how happy your omega is about all of it.

He drags himself out to the tip and then slams back in, doing it a few more times before quickly finding his pace. He fucks deep into you, kissing your cervix with each stroke, letting your pussy mold itself around him. Your wet heat swallows him, his rut-addled brain unable to think beyond this, beyond needing to claim, claim, claim. It eases the unbridled rage he’d been simmering in ever since his rut began halfway through the expedition, Kuruk and Cardo giving him a wide berth the entire time. He’d done his best to take it out on the rogues he was fighting on the planet he would take for the Order, but when he was out of the battle and alone with his thoughts, every primal instinct within him screamed about how badly Kylo needed his omega and the fact that you weren’t there. Knowing the Knights he left behind were probably all over you made it worse, getting so bad that at one point he brawled with Cardo, beating the other Knight bloody just to release his tension.

He inhales sharply when you cum around him, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice, making it difficult to pull out, the rush of slick splattering your thighs and staining his pants. You tremble underneath him, your eyes glazed over, your tits bouncing as he pounds into you harder, chasing the release he can feel at the end of his spine. “This is all you wanted, isn’t it? Just wanted your alpha’s knot after having to spend so long with those brutes?” Kylo says, grunting with the effort. All you can manage is a pathetic nod and a slurred moan of his name, too fucked out to properly respond. His next words are said against your collarbone, his dark hair falling around his face and tickling your skin. “My poor omega. Just needed me to fuck you right.”

His knot steadily inflates at the base of his cock, and his thrusts become more erratic, jerkier. Kylo twitches and throbs in your cunt, and he can only manage a few seconds longer and then he’s stuffing you with his knot until you wonder if you’ll break, utterly stretched to your limit. He paints your walls white with a seemingly endless gush of cum, some of the excess managing to leak out and drip onto the sheets. You swear he came straight into your womb, filling you to the brim, pushing it in further as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, shallowly rolling his hips. He stays propped above you for a moment more, collecting his breath, before gathering you up and turning over so you’re lying on his chest.