#regency!kylo

Dearest Lords and Ladies of London,

After the first event of the season last night I’m sure we are all wondering what scandal or excitement awaits our hungry appetite! This writer has heard from her sources that while the ball seemed to be laden with the typical talk(Miss Philippa Featherington danced with no one, Lady Browning indulged far too much in champagne and had to be removed from the party by her son, Lord Linfield was rejected by countless ladies for a dance…despite his sizable fortune-perhaps it is the lingering oder of cabbages and onions that accompanies him wherever he goes) there was one bit of excitement that stood far above the other more typical anecdotes. The most scandalous young lady of this season so far, Miss Huntington, seems to have caught the eye of the most coveted (and reluctant) bachelor of the season, the Prince of Alderaan.

Prince Kylo Ren of Alderaan spent much of the evening avoiding the dance floor and was seen to scurry away from many very suitable young ladies including Miss Bridgerton-Queen Charlotte’s choice of the season. While he resisted strongly(and some might even have called his actions rude) most of the young ladies he encountered he seemed to be unable to keep himself away from Miss Huntington. Miss Huntington, still fresh off of her family’s embarrassing gambling scandal last year did not do herself any favors at the Danbury Ball. She danced with a number of men who would have been perfectly adequate for her, but she seemed to have had nothing but contempt for them. Showing no more interest in them then a horse shows a fly and this mare perhaps should not be brushing flies away too quickly, no matter how much their buzz annoys her.

But perhaps the Prince sees something in Miss Huntington that society as a whole does not, because after ignoring the Queen’s choice of the season all night, the Prince and Miss Huntington came together for, by all accounts, a most heated dance.  I will be interested to see if Miss Huntington has a royal caller today and what that could mean for her prospects later on. Perhaps the Queen has chosen the wrong girl for the diamond of the season this year, perhaps we have all put our eggs in the wrong basket. But—perhaps not. Only time(and this writer) will reveal.

Yours most sincerely,

Lady Whistledown

“Contempt?” You gasped as you paced back and forth in front of the piano in your sitting room. Mama was sitting in front of a table holding the latest Lady Whistledown, a quickly cooling cup of tea completely forgotten sat on the table in front of her. “I didn’t show any of those men contempt! I was perfectly polite, Mama!” You complained. You were affronted to hear what that wretched Whistledown had written of you, written of you and the Prince.

“I understand that, but the members of the ton might not now that they’ve read this.” Mama sighed. Nerves clenched at your stomach, how could your status seemed to have gotten lower since the Danbury Ball? “Not all of what she wrote of you was terrible, dearest.” Mama said, trying to perk up. She set the paper down next to her tea on the table. “Don’t you agree, Ella?” she continued, looking to your lady’s maid who stood nearby.

“Oh, yes, not all of it was-“

“She compared me to a horse.” You said, turning around to face the two of them, frustration and irritation plain on your face. Ella’s face dropped and she nodded, looking away. “Sorry, Ella. I do not mean to take my own frustrations out on you.” You said.

“She did mention the Prince being taken with you-“

“Yes, what was the word she used to describe our dance?” You asked, “Oh yes, heated. That’s a scandalous word if ever I’ve heard one.” You said. You strode over to the table and picked up the copy of Lady Whistledown Society Papers that now sat on the table beside your Mama. You found yourself wanting to rip it into a million pieces, that of course would not be a proper display, even just in front of your mother and lady’s maid.

Your Mama reached out and took your hand, running her thumb along the backside of  it in a comforting way that only a Mama knew how to do. You looked down at her and found yourself for what felt like the millionth time, wishing things were different. Wishing things had not exploded for your family last year. How much easier would life currently be if your father had not indebted himself to so many people, not made a mockery of your lives? You tried to brush away the thought but anger pulsed through you. A most unlady-like feeling, anger. It caused you to think of actions you wanted to take but never could, words you wanted to speak but never would allow yourself to. It made you long even more for a different world wherein you could do and say those things. And longing wasn’t ladylike either.

“Dearest, she also compared you to Daphne Bridgerton and said the Queen herself may have been wrong in her choice. That the whole ton might have been wrong in thinking the diamond of the season was Miss Bridgerton, and she means that it could be you.” As your Mama spoke a whole knew vista of opportunities, and chances seemed to open up before you. You could, no, you had to prove this true. That you were more eligible, more likable and just…more than anyone else. The Prince could call on you and he could court you, and ask for your hand and marry you. Then all this worry, all this anger and pain and scandal would be for naught. It would be forgotten about because you will have made the match of the season. Even if he was rude, cruel and you became irritated at the mere memory of his mocking voice, you would still become a Princess when you married him and that was exactly what your family needed. Yes, that was the goal and you were heartened by it.

“My guess is you will have quite a lot of callers today, suitors ready to vy for your hand.” Mama said and you smiled because you really did agree with her.

*

Your mood dissolved as the day went on, you spent the entire day in the sitting room awaiting on callers. You paced, and no one called. You sat on the sofa and tried to read, and no one called. You  played piano and no flowers or gifts arrived. You talked to Ella about other things to try and distract yourself and no one called. You picked out fabric for your next dress from the swatches the Modiste had sent and no one called. Not one suitor. You had been so  convinced that the Prince would call, or at least send flowers that in the afternoon when there was a knock at the sitting room door you were sure it was the Butler there to tell you that he was there but instead the door opened and your eldest brother walked in with his wife and your niece and nephew close behind. Matthew was jovial as he greeted you and your Mama,

“Did you read Lady Whistledown today? That woman has a knack for writing compelling stories does she not?” He asked as he grabbed a biscuit and sank down at the table. His wife, Rose sat down next to you at the piano as the children ran about already causing havoc. You rolled your eyes, had they not read the same thing this morning? Why would he think it compelling?

“She compared me to a horse, Matthew.” You found yourself saying once again, turning to look at your elder brother who attempted and failed to hide a smile.

“I told him not to bring up Lady Whistledown.” Rose sighed, reaching over to take your hand in the sweet and gentle way that she did.

“Ella, can you call down to the kitchens for more tea, please?” Mama said, looking to Ella who said,

“Of course, Ma’am.” She curtsied and left them. Matthew watched her go from the room, and leaned back against his chair.

“She may have made a few brash statements, my dear sister but she also reminded everyone that their choice of Daphne Bridgerton for the diamond of the season could be false and it could be you.” Matthew said, delicately selecting another biscuit from the tray in front of him.

“That is precisely what I pointed out out to your sister earlier.” Your mama said approvingly glancing from Matthew to you over her teacup.

“That was before absolutely no suitors came to call this morning,” You reminded your mother, irritation coloring your voice once again.

Your nephew sped past the table his father was at, grabbing a biscuit as he went.

“Simon, where on earth are your manners?” Rose asked. Simon stuck his tongue out at his mother and continued his game of chasing his sister around the couch with the biscuit in his mouth.

“You had no suitors this morning? None at all?” Matthew asked, and the shock in his voice made you want to shrivel up and die. It was unfair, unfair that Matthew was there to bare witness to  your suffering, unfair that he should be here with his happy wife and children watching you fail at your only duty in life. Your mama shook her head to answer for you because you were looking anywhere but at your elder brother. Rose squeezed your hand and your chest flooded with sudden emotion. The tiniest gesture made you feel as though you were not alone. Had she once felt like this? Had she too wondered if anyone would want her? Had she wondered if she would amount to anything more than the hated title of ‘spinster’? No, Matthew had been there from the start, he had been interested and active in seeking her out.

Matthew was  frowning as if in thought, “Does father know?” he asked, trying now to hide some of his shock by asking pointless questions. Of course Father didn’t know, Father wasn’t home, how would he know? Mama answered in a more polite fashion than you would have,

“Not yet,” She said.

“Hm. Well. There is still time.” He said shot you a quick smile, perhaps you weren’t entirely useless. Your mood did not improve, even when you retreated to your room to get dressed for walking in Hyde park. You knew you could not get discouraged. You knew you had to prove yourself as the best. Lady Whistledown might have helped along the No Suitors Situation but she herself had also said you could be the rightful Diamond of the Season and not Daphne Bridgerton. Everyone had already said this to you today and now you had to remind yourself. You had to convince yourself because it would take that confidence to pull it off. As Ella helped you dress you found your mind floating back to the night before, at the Danbury Ball and how flat every dance had felt, every look between you and a man had had no significance, every touch was dull and expected. It had all been nothing. All except one—the Prince. The rude, cruel, infuriating Prince Ren who had called you improper, even though he had been the one staring at you. Kylo Ren, who had…touched your skin. Your heart pounded at the mere memory of his fingers grazing against your back. It made you ashamed but not nearly as much as it should have, because it also was the only memory from the Danbury Ball that exhilarated you. He had sought you out, and you alone, it had to have meant something. And yet when he danced with you it seemed as though all he wanted from it was to humiliate you. You wished it wasn’t possible. You wished it hadn’t worked. And you very much wished you still weren’t thinking about it.

***

Your thoughts of Prince Kylo Ren didn’t abate when you left your house for the short carriage ride to Hyde Park. You were still thinking about him as you strolled along the walking paths with your Mama and your Lady’s maids. You were trying to work out what exactly he had meant by his behavior, why choose you to be the only young lady he danced with and then be nothing but rude to you? Perhaps he did not think himself rude? Perhaps he just spoke his mind very bluntly. You considered this as the best option for a while, barely noticing where your feet were carrying you as you walked alongside your Mama. But a memory resurfaced from that night, that made it very clear to you that this could not be the case. It was the memory of the smirk that seemed to hang even in his voice as he said, “You stared at me, my lady.” Your insides twisted at it. That and the way his eyes burned. He knew precisely what he was doing, he knew he was trying to humiliate you, trying to make you feel as if you had done something wrong. “How improper,” those words sent a spark through your body, something akin to anger and embarrassment. His voice had been dark and intense, your mind was absorbed in it…accompanied with the feeling of his gloved fingers against the bare skin of your back. It wasn’t the correct place for him to place his hand while leading a dance, it was slightly too high. Yet, he had done it. Accidentally? It must have been. He just had not been used to dancing with someone quite that much shorter than him, perhaps. Those fingers blazed through your memory, leaving little room for anything else in your brain. You could imagine his fingers there again as you looked out across the Serpentine River, which was little more than a shallow man-made pond that cut through this section of Hyde Park.

Your mind was so wrapped up in the feeling of those fingers, and the burn in his eyes that it took you far too long to notice you were staring directly at the real thing. It took your mother taking your arm and hissing in your ear,

“Staring at the Prince is not very lady-like.” She squeezed your arm and you blinked. She, of course, was right. Across the lake, the prince was standing arm in arm with the Queen Regent of Alderaan, his mother. Someone he had not been seen with years. As you took him in you realized he had not noticed you yet,  you should look away, being caught staring at him yet again would surely end in more humiliation. He paused in his walk with his mother, his expression was irritated, lips tight, body stiff and upright as she spoke to him. His eyes flicked up and you were very suddenly caught in his gaze. Caught wasn’t quite the right word to describe it, trapped was probably more accurate. A shiver ran up your spine, it was that same blazing glance, a whisper of the memory of a hand on your skin. You watched as humor suddenly joined the irritation on his face, recoloring it. He turned to look at his mother, spoke and then pulled his arm away from her. He began to walk to the foot bridge nearby. She called something after him but he ignored her, she turned to her Lady’s maid who was standing nearby but your eyes were following his Grace as he walked over the bridge.

“The Prince is headed in this direction,” Mama hissed to you quite unnecessarily. You were about to hiss back that you knew but you started to feel not only his eyes on you, but many eyes on you. Everyone who had gone for a late afternoon stroll through Hyde Park seemed to be looking at you.  All because Prince Kylo was stepping off the foot bridge and striding over towards you. You found yourself having the insane desire to run away. Perhaps it was because you couldn’t face him after he had caught you staring, or perhaps it was because of your disastrous dance at the Danbury Ball…or perhaps it was because of the persistent and scorching thoughts of his hand in yours, his fingers on your back. You wanted to hide from all of that and hide from his gaze but he walked up to you a moment later and inclined his head respectfully,

“Miss Huntington,” He said and then he turned slightly towards your Mama. “Lady Huntington,” He said.

“Your Grace,” Your Mama said, dropping to a curtsey. When you finally remembered how to move, and curtsied as well.

“Your Grace,” You mimicked your mother.

“What a pleasant thing, to meet you here.” Mama said, smiling almost adoringly up at Kylo. “Were you escorting your mother?” She asked. Something shifted slightly in his face, the subtle shift was enough to make his face go from mildly polite to the beginnings of irritation.

“Yes.” He said. “But I happened to see Miss Huntington across the Serpentine and thought she looked as though she could use a companion this afternoon.” He said. He offered his arm to you. You didn’t move. You were unsure if you should take it, unsure if you even wanted to take it. You knew you should and something inside of you did long for it, longed for his gloved hand in yours so that you could again revel in the memory of it against your bare back. Shock swept through you  at your own thoughts, and with that shock was the realization that the prince had his arm held out to you still, “Would you care to walk with me, Miss Huntington?” He asked. You took the proffered arm as gracefully as you could manage while you still recovered from your own thoughts and the longing that still drove you to consider his hand at such length.

“Yes, of course, Your Grace.” You said. You watched him give your mother a tight smile and nod, before he turned you away form her and began walking.

It was quiet except for the sound of your steps as you walked along the Serpentine, you listened to his heavy footfalls and your lighter ones keeping pace. Was he going to mention the rude things he had said when you had last spoke? Should you bring them up? You were about to ask him if he planned on insulting you again on your walk when he spoke,

“I thought you might have learned your lesson about staring the last time we met.” He spoke casually as though he wasn’t attempting to wound your pride. “That does not seem to be the case.” He said. You looked about, wondering if anyone was within earshot, but no, Mama and her Lady’s maid were the closest people to the both of you and she was at least twenty yards back.

“First of all, Your Grace, I did not realize I was looking at you this afternoon.” You said, turning to look up at him. He was so much bigger than you that it felt as though you had to lean back to see his face. “Secondly, I maintain that the last time we met, I was only looking at you because I had caught you looking at me.” You insisted, and again the memory of that evening filtered into your head. The way you had felt his eyes upon you and how you looked back with curiosity.

“Hm.” Was his answer, and for a long moment it seemed as though he was going to leave it at that, then he spoke with no humor in his voice, “You presume to know better than I?” He asked. Your body felt tight and if you had not been holding on to his arm, your hands would have been shaking. Was it just because he was a prince that he was this intimidating or was it more? No, it had to be more, there was something about him that screamed at you to be nervous, to be afraid. You had to take a deep breath before you spoke to him again,

“I presume to know when I am being looked at across a ballroom, Your Grace.” You said, turning your face away from him so you looked forward at the path in front of you instead.

“Do you know so acutely what that feels like?” He asked, you felt his eyes on you again, that intense gaze that had burned into your across the ballroom at the Danbury estate. He was mocking you again, because he knew you did not know what it felt like.  You swallowed and your eyes flicked up to him and then away again as you tried to recover.

“Perhaps not, but I knew I could sense your gaze.” You insisted.

“Perhaps I could sense yours.” He said.

“That’s impossible because I was not looking at you yet.” Your voice was colored with anger now and you wished you could take back the words, your frustration only seemed to spur him on.

“I think you might have been.”

“I was not.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” You almost ripped your arm away from him but you knew deep down that you could not. Not only was it impossible because you knew it would cause a scandalous scene but you could not because your body would not allow you to pull away from him. It felt like you were glued to his side.

“You seem unreliable to me,” His voice was humorless, irritated at your refusal to accept his version of events. You walked in silence next to him, not wanting to give him more fuel to flame his suspicions that you were an unreliable source, or a hot tempered girl. “Did you have many callers this morning?” You were so surprised by the question that you stopped walking, or you tried to because with your arm in his he simply towed you along with him.

“Excuse me?” You asked, breathless. It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable question for a friend to ask but you would not consider him a friend or even a potential suitor at this point. He had made it quite clear that he thought of you as nothing but an improper, unreliable, little girl.

“Lady Whistledown wrote that you might surprise everyone by making the match of the season,” He explained as he continued to tow you along with him. You turned your head to gaze up at him again, he was shocking in so many ways. Not only did he follow no real social protocols, but he spoke his mind and was too handsome to be reasonable. You wished you did not think it true, but as you looked at him you couldn’t help but notice again every pleasant thing about his face. Full lips, dark eyes with their fire-gaze, straight nose, and skin that was kissed with beauty spots in all sorts of delicate places. You blinked a few times, trying to beat back all the feelings that rose with appreciating his beauty,

“You read Lady Whistledown?” You asked, hating how stupid you sounded.

“Doesn’t everyone?” he asked. Your brow knit, you didn’t like being reminded of that fact. It must have shown on your face because he raised an eyebrow and his lip twitched towards a sardonic smirk, “I thought you would appreciate most of the things she wrote of you, Miss Huntington.” He observed. The idea that you would appreciate the things she wrote of you, of your family irritated you more than anything else he could have said. You let out a long, slow breath, trying to not let the anger towards Lady Whistledown effect the way you spoke to him. You were about to answer when he continued, cutting you off yet again, “You should appreciate that she’s willing to speak of you at all,” The frank way he put that boiled your blood and again you found yourself wanting to rip from his arm and march off but your body betrayed you once again and you remained stuck next to him.

“She…I can’t believe- that woman…she compared me to a HORSE!” You exclaimed, your voice dripping with contempt as you tried to not speak too loudly. Kylo frowned in thought a moment,

“I had not recalled that.” He said easily ignoring your fuming. “So, did you have callers this morning?” he asked again. You felt deflated, you had been so angry only seconds before and it was like it had been a soap bubble that he had burst. You swallowed and forced your eyes down, away from him. You felt your cheeks burn and you hoped your embarrassment didn’t show too much,

“No.” You said in the most dignified voice you could manage, lifting your chin. You weren’t sure why you were telling him the truth, but lying about it made it seem more shameful.

“No?” He confirmed, sounding surprised.

“No.” You said again, “No callers, no flowers, nothing.” He had walked you down the Serpentine to the next footbridge and now you were beginning to cross it. As you reached the middle of the bridge he stopped and looked down towards the water, you paused and stood on your tiptoes to look over the railing on the bridge as well, there was nothing but shallow dirty water below. Nothing of interest, but it was a good way to avoid his gaze.

“That surprises me. You danced with others at the Danbury ball I presume?” He asked.

“Yes,” You finally did look back towards him and again were struck by his handsome face. Your heart started to thrum faster in your chest. “I did think that perhaps you would call,” You admitted in a rush. The silence that fell seemed like the longest silence in your life. You wished you had not said anything. The words hung in the air and you wished they were physical so you could grab them and press them back inside of you, into your chest where he could no longer know them.

“Why would I call on you?” It was the emphasis on ‘you’ that hurt more than the sentiment itself. You let out the breath you had been holding and tried to replace the hurt with the frustration you had felt towards him earlier.

“I was the only young lady you danced with at the Ball,” You said, “And now you’re standing here, walking with me and asking if I had any callers. Forgive me, for thinking that might mean some form of interest, Your Grace.” You said.

“I am not interested, Miss Huntington.” He said so easily that you felt that same hurt as before. Why was he here then? Why was he walking with you now when you could have been walking with someone who was truly interested. Perhaps it was rude but at the moment you didn’t care,

“Why are you here then?” You demanded, you were finally able to pull your arm away from him now. “If you want so little to do with me, why walk with me?” You placed both hands on the railing of the bridge and turned fully towards the water once again. You tried to even your breathing, it was unbecoming to be gasping for breath even if it did feel like you had been kicked in the stomach.

“To irritate my mother,” He answered. Now it was easy to replace the hurt with anger, he was using you for his familial issues and it was at the expense of the rest of your life. How were you to have any suitors if he took up all your time with stupid walks that were only to his benefit.

You turned slowly towards him, feeling like anger was swelling up inside of you like the soap bubble from before, only you doubted it would be as easy to burst this time.

“To irritate your mother?” You asked, your voice dangerous and quiet. He was unapologetic. “How dare you? You think just because you’re some…some Prince that you can use me however you would like for your petty problems with your mother?” You gasped out, you were shaking now. Your whole body was responding to the indignity of what he was doing to you. His face darkened slightly and he stepped towards you, towering above you. Anyone watching might have mistaken this for something romantic if it hadn’t been for the loathing that was apparent on your face.

“You speak to a Prince like this?” he growled.

“When this Prince has acted anything but gentlemanly and has insulted me repeatedly-“

“Even when what I’m doing will help you in the long run as well?” He asked, his voice lowering even more.

“-by blatantly disrespecting me and my—what?” You pulled up short when he asked you that. “How on earth could this help me?” You paused, and then added with as much sarcasm as you could muster, “Your Grace.”

“Have you not noticed how many men have been watching you since I took your arm for this walk?” He hissed, leaning down closer to you. You could smell him now, and his scent with the overwhelming power of that dark gaze was enough to make you lose your breath for a moment.

“I-What?” You asked again, hurriedly looking around towards the other groups of people in the park.

“Don’t look now, stupid girl.” He growled. “Yes, my interest in you has piqued the interest of quite a few other men. You need suitors. I need my mother to stop pushing for me to marry…and I also need some peace from the idiotic Mama’s who push their daughters on me at every event I attend.” He said.

“I…I don’t understand.” You said softly, but you were beginning to, you remembered the way you had felt eyes on you when he had first come over to you. It hadn’t just been the eyes of gossiping old ladies, no, it had been the watchful daresay jealous eyes of men. He was proposing something to you, not something you would have thought of…but something almost as helpful.

“If you and I are seen together…seen as an item. Seen as if we were courting, you would become the most appealing girl in the ton. You would also become a challenge and men love nothing more than a challenge.” He said.

“And you…”

“Well, I would get exactly what I want as well-“ His eyes flicked to the other side of the river and down back where they had come where his mother was still walking with her Lady’s maid. You felt as though your heart would beat out of your chest, if he was right, if this worked it could very well get you a match by the end of the season.

“Do you think it would work?” You asked.

“If Lady Whistledown believes it. The whole ton will follow.” He said. “You just need to stop making scene of us in public.” He said. “Now take my arm again,” He instructed. “And walk back with me.”

It was a commonly known truth that an early summer evening provided the perfect atmosphere to induce single men, skittish and reclusive creatures such as they were, out from hiding and into the company of eager and beautiful young women. For, of course, it was also common knowledge that no man could find happiness in his own company alone, and could only be made whole once he found a woman to walk through life by his side. 

As such, evenings like this one in early June of 1815 provided a wonderful excuse for the large estates of the county to host balls. The combination of the welcoming weather and the mood it imbued, that of brimming warmth and blossoming potential, allowed for conditions ripe for new love to bloom. 

Or, as was often the case for you, provide the opportunity for a line of unimpressive ‘gentlemen,’ if the term could be so liberally applied, to hound after you for the duration of the evening. Such events had at best, the habit of gifting you an evening of humor and lighthearted laughter at the expense of a troop of young and fumbling boys and, at worst, an evening of frustration and disappointment at the lack of men who held any appeal to you whatsoever. 

Dancing light from hundreds of candles refracted off pendulous chandeliers in the large ballroom. A soft glow illuminated men with high-cut coats, snugly fitted vests, and handsomely tied cravats, dancing with women in empire waisted gowns in all colors of the palette. In groups, couples spun and exchanged partners as they circled around the floor. Jubilant music and laughter filled the cavernous room, floating to the ceiling like incense. 

Leaning one shoulder casually against the ballroom wall, sipping at your drink, you watched the ball from its periphery, preferring to observe rather than partake yourself. 

You smiled at the sight of an awkward young man stepping on the dress of his dance partner, who made an admirable attempt at hiding her annoyance. Your attention was drawn from the spectacle before you by a rich baritone voice booming from close behind you.

“Women wear colorful gowns and dance, like flowers on display,” you overheard, as you turned to see the source of the deep voice. 

Your eyes were met by a tall, broad shouldered, strikingly handsome and darkly countenanced man, clean shaved with pale unmarred skin and a shoulder length mane of raven hair. He wore an officer’s uniform complete with a sword, his enormous left hand resting casually on its hilt. 

The man’s pompous observations were directed at Lord Hux, a ginger-haired man with whom you were acquainted through your families.  

“Yes, the ladies are blissfully ignorant of the violence necessary to allow them such indulgences, to wistfully display their beguiling smiles at balls such as these. The blood that must be spilled to enable such frivolity,” the dark man continued.

As if feeling your scornful appraisal, the man’s eyes darted to meet your own, gleaming amber with a practically savage undertone. He held your gaze for an impolitely long moment, neither of you allowing yourselves to look away first. When you failed to balk under his scrutiny, his lips twitched in the barest of grins, yet his eyes still bore into yours, inviting you to make an attempt at challenging him. 

Little did he suspect that you would always accommodate such a challenge. Especially from a man who assumed that you were nothing more than a pretty face, a meek constitution, and an ignorant wit. 

“Tell me, sir,” you interjected, taking a step toward the large man. “How many unfortunate women have met their untimely ends by failing under the harshness of your perusal or by falling from the mountaintop of your lofty ego?”

“I merely state a truism regarding the different experiences of men and women,” he calmly declared, stepping closer to you. Towering over you, his shoulders squared and spine rigid, his right hand moved to lock in a fist held behind his back. Confidence exuded from him like a fine cologne. “You live comfortably in your small corner of the world, rarely venturing outside of it. Your lack of awareness is not your fault. You simply have not seen the world, gained experience, as I have.” 

“Am I to understand, then, that because I have never myself hunted lions on the savanna, that I cannot conceive of their claws and fangs?” You asked, moving another half step closer, raising your chin defiantly at the imposing man. “I suppose that you have experienced every and all manner of things this world has to offer, to allow yourself such a range of insight.”

“To your point, Miss, you may conceive of claws and fangs in the abstract. Although, I doubt that you can understand the fear that would grip your heart when a lion prowls outside your tent at night, hunting you mercilessly and relentlessly.” The man’s sharp eyes held yours, his attention singularly and intently focused on your countenance. 

“There you are gravely mistaken, sir,” you said with a smirk. “I know very well, perhaps better than you, what it is like to be stalked like prey. A trophy to be captured.”

At your words, the man grinned slightly, sideways and wolfish. 

“Clever, Miss,” he conceded. “However, there are evils in this world for which your experience does not account, and in this sense, your ignorance is bliss. The world is full of unpleasantness that hunts after you and your peaceful little ballroom world every day like a lion in the tall grass.”

“I have been told that women are chartered to find large strong men to protect them from such nefarious happenings,” you teased, pausing to look around the room pointedly. “Although, I see very few Achilles incarnate walking amongst us.”

“That is because such men, like myself,” he also paused, matching your dramatic intonation. “Are loathe to attend frivolous dances and balls. We are too busy fighting with knives and swords and cannons, spilling our blood, to keep the lion caged. And your pretty eyes are all the prettier for it, for being spared such haunting ugliness.”

“Then I thank you, sir, and I presume that I speak for all women,” you said with an icy smile. “When I thank you for depriving us of your cheery presence at frivolous events such as these.”

“I aim to serve, Miss,” he replied sarcastically, his jaw clenching at your slight. 

“Of course, I only jest, sir. No woman could possibly conceive of affairs of war and strategy.” You waived a hand dismissively, emphasizing your words. “I’ve no doubt that Queen Elizabeth herself believed that when the Spanish Armanda sailed to England, they only transported the finest silks and jewelry from the East. Until a man whispered the truth in the Queen’s ear.”

“You simply fail to appreciate the power of the right man whispering in your ear,” the man told you haughtily. “What is your name, Miss? I should know my adversary.”

“Oh, I should not reveal my identity to the enemy. Such would be an ill-advised act in a time of war,” you teased him lightly. “For now, you may refer to me as Queen Elizabeth.”

As the man’s plush lips turned in a smile, you turned abruptly from him. Depriving him of your attention, you allowed yourself to be pulled away from your conversation and disappear back into the crowd. You knew he would find you again. After all, it is never healthy for a man’s ego to give him too much attention in one sitting. 

Later, when the formidable man indeed found you once again, sought you out amid the sea of girls who flounced and preened excitedly in an attempt to steal his attention, his stoic expression was only slightly betrayed by the raised corners of his lips. 

“Queen Elizabeth, may I have this dance?” He asked cordially, extending a large hand to you.

“Are you quite sure that you wish to risk being seen consorting with the enemy, Captain, Lieutenant, or whatever you are?” You asked coyly. 

“Admiral,” he corrected in his heavy tone. “I am brave enough to hazard a dance with the enemy. We did not finish our discussion.”

“Is that what that was?” You asked, still considering his outstretched hand with a raised eyebrow.

“I am far from an impressive dancer, Miss.” His grin widened as he leaned down closer to you, “However, my earnest advice in this time of war is that you take my hand. Should you wish to continue our battle of wits uninterrupted.”

Upon placing your hand in his, his enormous warm grip swallowed it whole, as he led you onto the dance floor. A respectable distance separated your bodies as you began the series of steps and maneuvers, which the large man had trouble following.

“I see the dance floor is not a country you visit often on your military adventures, Admiral,” you noted lightly, as he stood next to you before the next temporary exchange of partners split you apart.

“It is rare that I find myself coerced onto the dance floor by a strategist as fine as yourself,” He replied when he returned to you, your hand again resting in his, he replied, “Additionally, you have me at a disadvantage. Women have more natural adeptness at trifles such as dancing.”

“Oh, so you do concede that women may possess more knowledge than men, but only when it concerns the trifling and unimportant things in life?” You challenged.

“I must choose my words more carefully around you. The smallest of openings and you strike,” he observed, a hint of fondness creeping into his proud tone. “Gender is not the issue, Miss. Experience is. If women managed countries, they would be obliged to substitute their knowledge of dance steps for that of strategy and the rules of war.”

“On the contrary, Admiral, I believe that if women ran countries, there would be no wars at all,” you corrected. 

He spun you powerfully in step with the dance, his great strength apparent in his unrefined motion. “Perhaps. Wars would instead be fought by malicious gossip, venomous glares, and deathly silences.”

“Touché,” you responded. “Nevertheless, the fashion industry would supplement weapons as the leading source of trade. As it should.”

“Women and their obsession with fashion and aesthetics,” he condemned with no malice, shaking his head. 

“Women and their obsession?” You retorted with a faint huff before deciding again to tease. “That, too, is due to the fault of men, as are most unfortunate happenings.” 

“I am on edge to hear your explanation as to how men are guilty of such an egregious offense,” he told you amid handing you off to another intermittent partner. 

“Tell me, Admiral, when was the last time you heard a man praise a woman for her conversation or her intellect, as opposed to her smile or her figure?” You asked upon returning to his arms. 

“Well, I must confess,” he declared, handing you to another partner, continuing his words upon your return, “You are a rare creature who could reasonably be praised on all fronts. You are tolerably intelligent. You also present an engaging conversation. I am surprised, in fact, that a woman in possession of such agreeable features would be so.”

“I am happy to be agreeable, at least tolerably so,” you quipped. With that, feeling the sting of his backhanded compliment, you released him and left the dance floor upon the end of the dance.

“No. Wait,” he said, racing a few steps after you, “You mistook my meaning. I stated myself poorly.”

You easily slipped away through the crowd. Making your way to the entrance of the great manor that hosted the ball, you fortuitously found your party outside, ready to depart. 

Climbing quickly into the carriage, your thoughts were soon consumed by conversation with your friends and tales of pleasant dances and tolerably enjoyable company. 

As you talked, your hair fell free from its intricately fastened style. Reaching to feel for your pins and barrettes, you found the absence of your centerpiece. Missing from your hair was your hair comb, a finely crafted lacy floral design forged from rose gold. 

Whether it fell from your hair due to the jostling of your dancing, the haste of your exit, or your slightly clumsy entry into the carriage, you cannot be sure. You were also unaware that when the large Admiral rushed out onto the steps, in search of the beautiful woman he had lost in the crowd, he spotted her rose gold hair comb shining up at him from the ground. Retrieving it, he placed it inside his inner breast pocket, resolved to keep it safe until he could place a smile on your lips by returning it. 

Fate, it seemed, had other plans. The Admiral was not permitted to search for you nor given an opportunity to redeem himself. All of the enlisted and able-bodied soldiers and officers had been recalled, sent to the Netherlands. Unfortunately for all, Napoleon was waging war in a place called Waterloo.

*******************************************************************************************

Fortune turned sour not only for the Admiral, but for you as well. The battle of Waterloo tore your own family apart, taking all the remaining men in your family as casualties of battle.

Given the state of the law, you could not inherit your family’s property nor even the estate that had been your home since birth. You were forced into the position of either marrying for the sake of preserving your assets and placing them in the hands of whatever undeserving man deigned to take your hand, or allowing your property to be forfeited. Between the abysmal options, you chose the latter. 

This, of course, resulted in the changing of your station. You were no longer a respected young lady. You were rendered part of the working class, those poor unfortunates who had to toil in order to maintain themselves. 

In what you were assured was an act of great charity, you were employed by your acquaintance Lord Armitage Hux to act as the governess to his two abominable, motherless children, twin red headed boys aged ten. 

Hux’s motive for employing you was thinly veiled. Naturally, he wanted you for his own, convinced that he could while away at your resolved aversion to him if given adequate time. He had, however, refrained from being unduly overbearing with his advances. 

You were given a room in his manor, allowed a modicum of privacy, while serving your role as governess. You learned many things listening to the gossip and rumors that flitted through the estate of Lord Hux. 

Among the inconsequential bits of trivium, you learned a few items that piqued your interest. Notably, was the identity of the mysterious Admiral. 

Admiral Kylo Ren was, by all credible accounts, a monster. The black sheep of his lofty family in both deeds and countenance, he had been disowned. However, by the same twist of fate that cruelly removed your station, his was restored. As the only male heir to the great Skywalker fortune, he inherited everything upon the deaths of his parents and uncle, becoming the richest and most esteemed man in the county. All having transpired while he fought against Napoleon’s navy, spilling his blood for his country and cause. 

During his time in the military, he carved a ferocious reputation for himself, written in the blood of countless enemies. It was rumored that his savagery was beyond compare, that he raged unchecked in battle, winning the un-winnable. A more notoriously dangerous man did not exist, not in polite society anyway. On his very short list of friends was Lord Hux. 

Word of his return in the fall of 1816 spread quickly. Although it had been nearly one and one-half years since you had seen the man, the impression he left was distinctly memorable. You, it seemed, were not the only lady who was eagerly anticipating his return. Whereas Admiral Ren had left as a veritable disgrace after being disowned by his family, he returned a prize, a man of influence and great fortune. 

News spread like wildfire through the eligible young women. Among them was Hux’s sister, Rey. A pretty enough, slightly built brunette woman with questionable motives. She was entirely convinced that she could not only steal the Admiral’s heart, but also refine and reform him to fit into her molded conception of a gentleman. 

You and she had been rivals when your stations were equal, although you had always easily been her superior in both beauty and intellect. Now that you were decidedly beneath her, she took pride in reminding you at every turn how fate had placed her above you. 

Rey induced her brother to host a winter ball at his estate, ushering the return of Admiral Ren. 

*******************************************************************************************

December began with the ball in celebration of Admiral Ren’s return. In attendance were countless sycophants and social climbers who now wished to make the acquaintance of the powerful man about whom they had always spoken nothing but derisory bile. 

Hux had informed you during casual conversation that he was only able to induce the elusive Admiral into attendance on the promise of making new business connections, while downplaying the extent to which the Admiral was walking into a trap filled with conniving young women, his sister among them. 

The thought of seeing him again both thrilled and worried you. While the man had scarcely left your thoughts since you left his arms that night on the dance floor, you could not stomach the thought of seeing him again now that you were so disgraced by your loss of standing. After all, he had lightheartedly condemned you before. Now, with his elevated social rank and your diminished station, an insurmountable gap separated the two of you. You also had no delusions that the man had given you a second thought after that night. A man of his standing and vocation had better things to occupy his mind than silly women at frivolous balls. You had kept your thoughts of the Admiral, as well as your shared conversation and dance, a secret from all; known only to you, and only to be revisited in your memories and dreams. 

You had not attended a ball since that fateful June evening when you danced with Admiral Ren. Nor would you be allowed to attend this one. No, you would be delegated to managing the children and keeping them suitably entertained so that they stayed quietly away from the gathering. 

On the day of the ball, you were hidden away, stories above the merriment and festivities, shut in a room with the Hux boys and a few other children. Fortunately, the children were largely able to amuse themselves amongst each other and required little oversight from you. 

As the manor filled with music, voices, and laughter, all the sounds of the event from which you were excluded, you pictured the Admiral dancing among a sea of smiling woman. 

Admiral Kylo Ren was indeed in attendance, as he had promised Lord Hux. Unbeknownst to you, he was, at that very moment, enclosed in Hux’s private study, avoiding the ball entirely and speaking to his friend. 

“These women hold no appeal for me, Hux,” Kylo spoke, waiving his hand dismissively. “I cannot get the thought of a singular woman from my mind. From that last interminable ball I attended at your behest, I might add.”

“I know of no woman who matches your description, Ren,” Hux replied, lighting an imported cigar. “‘Beautiful beyond compare and with a wit more impressive still,’ you say? Perhaps, your memory has been clouded by your time at sea. Or by nearly being killed in battle. You’re clinging to an exaggerated vision, Ren.”

“Yes, I am a man prone to flights of fancy and romantic idealism,” Kylo scoffed sarcastically. “I tell you, Hux, she was beautiful enough to stick in my mind like a thorn, witty enough to make me question my convictions, and to top it all, she was fearless enough to engage me in debate, whereas even men of war are too frightened to do so.”

“Such a jewel would likely have found a husband over the course of a year and one-half,” Hux pondered, to be met with an icy glare from the larger man. 

“Upon my return, I inquired after her from the noteworthy estates in the county to no avail,” Kylo gritted, pouring himself a scotch from a heavy crystal tumbler. 

“She cannot be so singular, Ren. Beautiful women abound. Even the governess for my boys is remarkably beautiful herself.” Hux moved to refill his own glass. “Surely, you have been charmed by women and their wiles before.”

“Never for longer than an evening.” Kylo smirked before his thoughts again returned to you. “No, I have never before been ‘charmed’ in a way such as this. Nor is it charmed so much as goddamned bewitched.”

“There you have it!” Hux exclaimed, patting a hand down onto Kylo’s broad back with a laugh. “A witch! Transformed into a beauty for one night to ensnare you.”

“An angel is possible,” Kylo joked. “Sent to earth for only one night.”

“And she spent it with you?” Hux laughed. “Poor girl.”

Kylo huffed a deep laugh at his own expense along with his friend. 

“How long will you persist in abstaining?” Hux inquired. “A man possessing of your considerable appetite must be miserable indeed.”

Choosing to take a drink of scotch instead of respond, Kylo’s jaw clenched when he swallowed it down. 

“Will you not at least peruse the fine selection of ladies I am hosting this evening? You are the man of the hour, after all.” Hux returned his glass to the table. 

With a vaguely annoyed growl deep in his chest, Kylo downed the remainder of his drink and placed his glass down. Silently glaring at Hux as he ran a large hand through his unruly hair, he allowed himself to be ushered back toward the ballroom. 

The following morning you could not keep the smile from your lips when you overheard Rey lamenting to her brother over breakfast about the events of the ball. 

“Why should Admiral Ren even attend a bloody ball if all he intended to do was stand as still as a statue, speaking to barely anyone, and dancing with no one at all?” Rey pouted at her rejection. “The man outright refused to take my hand for a dance!”

“Dancing is not the man’s strength. I have only seen him dance on one or two occasions,” Hux tried to console her. “Perhaps, sister, you need to revise your tactics.”

*******************************************************************************************

It was not that you loathed all of the duties of being a governess so much as you loathed your demotion to the status of governess. Some days were not entirely terrible. Some days you even found yourself enjoying your activities with Hux’s boys, chasing and playing outside with wooden swords. 

Today was such a day. It was a crisp, unusually warm December day, the ground damp and muddied from several days of rain prior. Capitalizing on the weather, you had herded the boys outside to burn some energy after having been shut inside for days due to the weather.

Each of you had a wooden sword, just in case of any dragons lurking on the property, of course. Swordplay, however, was abandoned in favor of visiting the horses and other livestock they had missed since being inside. 

While the children chased after the animals, you chased after the children. Slipping and sliding through the mud, you caroused with them. By the time you ushered them back toward the manor for lunch, your plain navy dress was woefully covered in mud that splattered up to your thighs. You did not even wish to appraise the status of your hem, caked in mud well above your ankles. 

Upon reentering the manor through one of its side doors, you were informed by the head butler that Hux had been looking for you all morning. Company had arrived to whom Hux wanted to present his children. 

An admirable attempt was made to lead them upstairs to change out of their disgraceful clothing, but they evaded your grasp, running instead through the long halls of the manor. 

The boys erupted into the library with you hot on their heels at a jog. 

Mud slinging from the hem of your dress, your hair disheveled, and your chest heaving for breath, you burst into the ornate library. 

Nearly colliding with the expansive chest of Admiral Kylo Ren. 

Having turned toward the direction of the commotion from the hallway, the Admiral faced you squarely, his black clad frame towering above you where you halted mere feet from him. 

Your racing heart sank in your chest and your breath came as a sharp inhale that felt as though it would be trapped in your lungs forevermore. 

Your widened eyes met his, and for the briefest of moments, surprise matching yours was reflected in his own eyes. 

Confusion quickly consumed his features, as he took in your appearance and made the connection to your vocation. 

Behind the Admiral, both Hux and Rey, nicely dressed, watched your plight with amusement. 

Although all the heat in your body rushed to your chest and cheeks, you refused to disgrace yourself further by turning away and hiding. Instead, you used your wooden sword to mock his rigid military bearing from the night of your dance. Placing your right hand in a fist behind your back and left hand at your hip, gripping the hilt of your sword, you cast him the slightest shy smile. 

“It’s you...” Kylo began, but his voice trailed away. 

Hux and Rey addressed him in turn from behind, only to be wholly ignored. 

“I was expanding my knowledge of warfare just this morning, Admiral,” you joked at your own expense, indicating the sword. 

Although the same darkly handsome Admiral from the ball, the man who stood before you now had changed. Most noteworthy was an angry ragged scar that trailed from above his right eyebrow, down the side of his cheek to disappear beneath his collar. You wondered if he had sustained it at the Battle of Waterloo shortly after your last meeting. He now also wore a goatee matching his forest of ebony hair. His body was even impossibly larger, thicker than you remember. Everything about him seemed more hardened now, as war does to all men who survive it. 

“An accomplished lady, indeed.” At his reply, his fiery eyes burned into yours with something you could not place. 

“Accomplished?” Rey snorted cattily, moving closer to Kylo to stand beside him, eyeing your muddy bedraggled appearance. “Farm animals achieve the accomplishment of rolling in mud daily.”

“Beauty does not reside in fashion nor other accoutrements some ladies apply to enhance that which is not present naturally,” Kylo replied sharply, holding your gaze, without sparing so much as a glance to Rey. “True beauty shines through whether its bearer is covered in mud or diamonds.”

Your smile widened at his words and Rey’s accompanying scoff. 

Kylo took a step toward you, opening his mouth to engage you further, when he was halted by Hux’s impertinent children, rushing to his front. Their merciless questions bombarding him. 

Gritting his teeth, he tried to hide his visible annoyance at their intrusion. However, when one of the twins referred to him as ‘Uncle Kylo,’ his entire body tensed. Turning to Hux, he glared violently at his friend.

“If you persist in instructing them to call me that, they will be orphaned in short order,” Kylo growled loudly, his voice echoing through the library. 

Oblivious to his irritation, one of the children extended his hands, wanting a hug. 

“Uncle Kylo does not hug,” Hux told his son, smirking as he walked closer to the fray. “He only looms.”

You had never seen an expression as murderous as the one with which Kylo affixed the ginger haired man. 

“Miss Y/N,” Hux continued, ignoring his friend. “Perhaps you can see to the cleanliness of the three of you. At once.”

The Admiral’s eyes followed you when you directed the children out of the room, even going so far as to pull him forward a step after you before he composed himself once more. 

After your routine squabbling to make the twins bathe, you sent them back downstairs for lunch with their father, aunt, and his guest. 

You knew that you were not invited to such an affair anymore. It was just as well, however, because your appearance would not be quick to render presentable. Instead of concerning yourself with such matters that you could not affect, you decided to use your free time away from your charges to take an indulgent bath yourself. 

Once submerged in a searing hot bath, surrounded by floral scented bubbles and bath oil, you felt the tension leaving your muscles. The bright sunlight of high noon filled the room with a crystal vibrance as only a crisp winter day can. 

Your relaxation was short lived, however, interrupted after only a few minutes by a firm knocking at the door. 

“Am I at the correct door to call upon Queen Elizabeth?” Kylo’s voice boomed through the wooden door into the room. 

“Excuse me?” You almost laughed at the title. 

“You still have not given me your name,” he continued, unconcerned that he addressed you during your ablutions. “Give it to me now, so that I may implore you to join me downstairs for lunch.”

“Need I even address your frightening lack of decorum?” You teased, a smile on your lips. “I am in the bath, Admiral.”

“I have seen enough of you to know that however lacking my decorum may be, it is surely not enough to frighten you.” He laughed faintly, muffled by the door. 

“It would not be proper for me to join you. I am now nothing but a governess,” you said bitterly. “You spoke to me once of the harsh truths of the world. This is one such truth.”

“As you correctly observed, Miss, I do not stand on decorum,” he told you firmly, his tone almost commanding. 

“It would be shameful, Admiral,” you continued resentfully. 

“Shameful?” He huffed at your words. “If you ask me to break down the door and carry you down myself to take a seat at the table as you are now, I would not be ashamed to do so. Nothing you could possibly do could shame me.”

“What could my company possibly add to your luncheon?” You asked, drawing a sponge across the back of your neck, wishing it was his large hand caressing you instead. 

“Beauty,” he answered immediately. “The promise of a conversation that does not bore me. A pleasant debate.”

“A debate?” You laughed. “You desire more abuse, Admiral?”

“If it comes from your delicate hand or your soft lips,” his tone deepened. 

“Perhaps at another more appropriate time, I shall abuse you until your heart’s content.” You adjusted yourself in the bath, certain the sound of sloshing water carried to Kylo and hoping the image of you did as well. 

Another voice sounded from further down the hallway. That of Lord Hux. “Bloody hell, Ren, you have resorted to harassing my staff? We are all waiting on you.”

“Tell me your name and I shall retreat,” a sigh accompanied his words. “For now.”

“Why do you not inquire it of Lord Hux?” You poked him further. 

“I wish to hear it as spoken by your lovely lips,” he replied decisively. 

After telling him your full name you heard him repeat it from the other side of the door. 

“Very well, Miss Y/N,” Kylo said, his hand resting on the door frame. “I shall not be so easily deterred at our next meeting, unless you deign to tell me directly that you have no further interest in my attention.”

As his heavy steps carried him back down the hallway and away from you, you found it now much more difficult to relax in your bath. Not with your heart threatening to break free from the cage of your ribs.

******************************************************************************************* 

The holidays passed uneventfully and without word from Admiral Ren. Lord Hux threw another ball for Christmas, as was his tradition, drawing an impressive gaggle of young women, all hoping to lave the Admiral with their obsequious attentions. To the great disappointment of all, the notorious man chose not to attend the ball, depriving the ladies of his menacing bearing. 

It was not until early January on the day of the first snow of the new year that Admiral Ren made good on his word to find you once again.

You awoke to frosted windows and a glistening white wonderland outside your window, a large snowstorm having passed through during the night depositing several healthy inches. The storm had cleared by morning, only a bright clear sky greeting you above the sea of fresh snow. 

Excitement flooded you at the sight of the beauty outside. The rest of the household was similarly afflicted. The children were wild with anticipation, and even the adults could not help but be enticed by the snow and its beauty.

After pulling on a navy wool coat over your petal pink dress, you set about bundling up the children for the anticipated snowball fight and other wintery games. 

You started at the sound of a deep commanding voice resounding through the manor, your entire body jolting with enthusiasm. As you hastily finished with the twins, you could hear Admiral Ren speaking to Lord Hux near the main entryway. 

“My friend,” Hux welcomed, his eyebrows raised with curiosity. “This is a pleasant surprise. But a surprise, indeed, given the conditions.”

“Clear snowy days like this are a rarity,” Kylo spoke as he beat some snow from his overcoat. “I wish to capitalize on its charming atmosphere. I am sure you take my meaning.”

“Ah, you must mean that Uncle Kylo has come to play in the snow with his nephews!” Hux projected his voice loud enough for his children to hear, as he ribbed his friend. He lowered his voice again before continuing. “And not only to see their enchanting governess.”

Kylo scowled, but silently accepted the pleasure Hux gleaned from needling him.

It was not until you walked into view, following the children down the hallway toward the men, that Kylo’s grimace turned into a broad smile, the first genuine smile you had ever seen on his lips. 

Kylo’s amber gaze fell upon you as you approached and did not waver in the slightest when Rey bounded down the stairs from his opposite side. 

“Admiral Ren!” She keened, “I’ve wanted to see you again since our last luncheon. It seems you never have time to stay and talk with me.”

“The wolves do circle in the winter, do they not, Ren?” Hux teased further, poking at his sister’s enthusiasm. 

Ignoring them both, Kylo’s attention was fixed solely upon you. 

“Admiral Ren,” you greeted him, as he offered you a stately bow, a few flakes of snow falling from his thick hair with his motion. “This morning is full of so many pleasant surprises, it seems.”

“I am honored to be included among them, Miss Y/N,” he told you in that rich smooth dark chocolate voice of his. 

“Oh, I never said explicitly that you were,” you returned with a coy smile. 

Kylo sucked his cheek at your words, stifling another smile, eyes shining. 

“I would welcome the opportunity for my presence to be one of the things that pleases you this morning,” he told you, encouraging you to issue a challenge for him to meet. 

“A snowman, perhaps?” Hux suggested, raising cheers from his boys. 

“It is ghastly cold,” Rey interjected. “Come have a hot cup of tea with me first, Admiral Ren.”

“I have never been susceptible to cold weather, myself,” Kylo told her dismissively. 

“Uncle Ren could make an impressively large snow angel,” Hux continued, ignoring Kylo’s sideways glare and enjoying the opening to harass the Admiral.

“I have no doubt that a man of strategy such as yourself, Admiral Ren, will think of something engaging,” you told him over your shoulder as you walked away from the group, following the twins as they ran ahead. 

Instantly, Kylo’s boot-steps echoed down the hallway behind you as you walked toward the back of the manor, exiting out into the garden. 

Snow covered hedges greeted you almost immediately once outside. Close also was a large marble fountain and countless rose bushes, all similarly covered under a soft blanket of snow. 

As the boys ran ahead, disappearing in between the hedges, you quickly readied yourself for Kylo’s approach. 

Kylo stepped out into the bright morning sunlight in the garden. The glare from the snow was almost blinding after his eyes had adjusted to the indoor lighting. 

An explosion of cold wet white struck him squarely on his proud nose, the snowball you tossed showering his face in fresh powdery snow. 

Taken completely off guard, Kylo froze for a moment, shoulders bunched, before he wiped the moisture from his face to reveal a wicked grin on his lips as he looked at you. Every bit the predator eyeing his prey. 

You had another snowball at the ready. Launching it toward your target, you watched it explode on the expansive plane of his chest, as he bent down to gather two unfairly large handfuls of snow. 

A playful growl rumbled through Kylo’s chest when he straightened back to his full height. Drawing back his arm, he aimed carefully at your fleeing figure. He threw his snowball as you tried to duck behind a hedge, your beautiful laughter carrying back to him across the garden when it connected with your back. 

“You would shoot your adversary in the back?!” You shamed him good-naturedly from your place behind the hedge. 

“All is fair in love and war, Miss Y/N,” he returned, voice husky, as he closed the distance between you. 

Rounding the hedge, Kylo charged headlong into another snowy assault to his face by your two perfectly aimed missiles. Tossing one blindly back at you, he landed a lucky shot to the side of your face as you turned too late to avoid it. 

He was close to you now, within grabbing distance. He made a lunge for you, as you turned the corner of another hedge. Trying valiantly to follow your evasive movement, Kylo slipped in the snow, falling heavily down to his knee with a huff. 

His fall halted your escape. Instead, you turned to rush back to his side. Grinning up at you, Kylo collapsed onto his back in the snow, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“I surrender, Miss Y/N.” Kylo’s grin widened into a smile as he looked up at you. “You are indeed a formidable opponent.”

Kylo held his hand up to you, silently asking for you to help him up from the ground. 

When you took his large warm hand, feeling it enclose around yours completely, you paused at the sensation before pulling to assist him. 

You utterly underestimated the sheer massive weight of the man. Even though Kylo pulled your hand only gently, you were not braced for the large man. Your own feet slipped in the slick snow, bringing you crashing down onto Kylo’s enormous chest. 

His body tensed beneath you for the briefest of moments before deep laughter bloomed in his chest, jostling your body with each hearty laugh. You found yourself laughing too, staring down at the huge handsome man. 

Drawn by your shared laughter, the ginger twins ran through the hedges toward you. Upon seeing Admiral Ren lying on his back with you sprawled across his chest, they skidded to a stop. Both gasping at the lewd sight before them, they ran away back inside. No doubt to report your egregious transgression to Hux and Rey. 

“This is terribly indecorous,” you told Kylo, only half kidding. 

“I did warn you of my lack of concern for decorum, Miss Y/N,” he reminded you. 

One of his hands lifted from its place in the snow to rest gently at your back, supporting you as you pushed yourself up from his chest. When you again held a hand down to him, you braced yourself properly before Kylo took your hand to rise. 

Kylo brushed the snow from your coat before offering you his arm to guide you back inside. Prior to reentering the manor himself, he took off his overcoat to shake the snow free from it. 

Inside, Kylo led you into the sitting room in front of the large roaring fireplace. Moving behind you, he removed your wet coat, draping it over a nearby chair to dry. You rubbed your hands over your arms, warmth quickly returning to you in front of the fire. 

Kylo rested a large arm on the mantle when he moved back to his place beside the fireplace, facing you. When his eyes met yours, the embers in their depths burned with more than the reflected firelight as it crackled and popped. His mouth was turned in a fond smile, lips slightly parted as if to speak some secret truth to you alone. 

Before he was given the chance to utter a word, Rey burst into the room, announcing the table was set for breakfast. 

You knew that she would not permit you a moment’s reprieve to be alone with Kylo. 

Despite having to share him with the Hux’s, the snowy January day spent in Kylo’s company was the happiest you had felt in ages. 

******************************************************************************************* 

February brought with it a bloom of hope in your heart. Encouraged by the attention bestowed upon you by the handsome Admiral, you felt yourself being carried away by daydreams of romance and wistful fantasies. 

Having endured incessant nagging from the twin boys, you finally agreed to take them outside for an excursion once a day presented with tolerably decent weather. 

Wind caught at your dress and mussed your hair as you trudged behind the boys on the blustery afternoon. They had at least decided upon a suitable activity, kite flying. 

Lord Hux had a sprawling estate, its grounds encompassing fields, hills, and forest alike. Seeking shelter from the wind while you watched the children, you encouraged them to fly their kites close to a tree line that abutted an open meadow. An old stone fence, broken down in places, ran through the meadow, parallel to a road that ran from town through Hux’s property, snaking through his meadow. You found an acceptably comfortable seat on part of the collapsed stone fence, the road to one side, the tree line to the other. 

Tragedy struck only minutes after the boys begun flying their kites when one of them broke free from the child’s hand and found itself captured moderately high in the branches of a large tree near you. 

Immediately, one boy started crying, the other taunting, which of course precipitated a fight over the remaining kite. 

Realizing this tantrum would continue until you returned or solved the problem, you resigned yourself to climbing the tree to get the damned kite. It was less burdensome than squalling children and chiding aunts. 

The climb up the tree was relatively easy, its branches, although slick with moisture, were thick and sturdy. You freed the kite with little difficulty, some twenty feet off the ground. Only then you realized that you had to climb back down, which, looking down the tree toward the ground far below, seemed infinitely more treacherous. 

You began slowly, trying to find the same places to grip and step as you had on your ascent. Nearly halfway back to the ground, the branch you had trusted with your weight snapped. Your stomach flipped with gravity’s pull as you half-fell and half-slid down the slick tree. Clawing and grasping for any purchase, your hands fought to slow your fall. Before you fell fully from the tree, your left hand snatched out to grab a branch. 

Your grab halted your fall but immediately a sharp searing pain shot through your hand. Regaining your footing on the trunk, you pulled your hand off the pointed snag that had slashed into your palm. A deep laceration covered the length of your left palm, bleeding heavily. 

Wiping the blood off onto your dress where it covered your left thigh, you caught your breath and continued down. Every few seconds, you paused to wipe the newly collected blood on your thigh in an attempt to keep your hand as dry as possible for griping branches on your descent. 

In the distance, you saw a rider approaching from down the road along the stone fence. A black shadowy figure. That of a large man sitting tall astride a large black horse. 

It seemed Admiral Ren had a sixth sense for finding you in the most unflattering of circumstances. 

At the sight of him, you slid the rest of the way down the tree, falling to your knees on the muddy ground with your impact. 

Your movement drew his attention. Spurring his horse forward into a gallop, he charged toward you. 

Rising to your feet, you again wiped the blood away from your palm onto your dress before locking your injured hand into a fist. 

As you began to walk away from the tree, the black horse and rider jumped the stone fence, the animal not missing a beat of its stride upon its landing and galloping ahead toward you. 

Kylo reined his horse to a stop only yards from you, its obsidian hooves kicking mud wildly as it slid to a stop on the slick ground. Kylo had jumped down from the saddle before the horse stopped completely, walking quickly to you. He wore a white shirt today, paired with his otherwise completely black ensemble. 

At the sight of Kylo’s ferocious glare and forceful stride, a thunderous storm approaching, the twins ran in retreat back to their home. 

Slipping in the mud and falling fully onto your bottom as you walked to meet the Admiral was not the worst thing to befall you today, but it was certainly the icing on your horrid cake. 

Sighing dejectedly, you moved to push back up to your feet, but Kylo reached you first. Bending down, he hooked one hand behind your knees and the other under your arms, lifting you easily into a bridal carry. 

Carrying you as though you were nothing, Kylo gently sat you down on a nearby stone where the old fence had fallen away. He dropped to a knee before you. Concern was etched across his features that were now only slightly above yours. 

“You’re injured?” He asked, a frantic edge to his deep voice, as he looked over your body. 

“It’s nothing. Honestly,” you assured him, your pride hurt more than your body. 

“Where?” Kylo’s attention fell to the blood smeared on your dress, his hand ghosting your thigh over the stain. 

Sighing with displeasure, you unfurled your left fist, extending it slowly to Kylo. Impatient, he grabbed your hand, pulling it toward him and examining the wound that sliced through your palm. 

“This is deep,” he commented, brows knitting. His thumb cleared the mud and debris away from the cut. His thick fingers stroked the back of your hand while he held you gently. “What the hell were you doing?”

“Being a damned governess,” you said, your anger seeping out with your words. 

“They are remarkably horrible children, are they not?” Kylo lamented, smirking slightly. “Causing you pain, however, is truly unforgivable.”

A small laugh escaped your lips at his words, despite your pain and embarrassment. 

“I need to clean this. It will hurt,” Kylo told you, as he evaluated the severity of your wound. He grinned to himself before continuing, “If you must cry, I shall never tell.” 

“While your lack of decorum is indeed appalling, Admiral Ren, it is hardly enough to bring me to tears,” you teased, flinching as he removed a piece of bark from your hand. 

“Good. I would greatly prefer bringing a smile to your lips than tears to your eyes,” he told you as he rose to his feet. 

Looking down at you, he slowly unbuttoned his coat and shrugged it off. Reversing it in his hands, he draped it over your shoulders. Your heart jumped at the momentary feeling of being so close to being inside his arms. 

Without his coat, he somehow looked even larger. The movement of the thick muscles of his back and chest visible beneath his white shirt. Watching you as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up his forearms, he enjoyed the way your eyes followed his movements. 

Stepping to his horse, he retrieved a canteen from his saddle. 

Returning to kneel before you once again, his vibrant eyes seared into yours. Holding your gaze, he extended his hand forward slowly to the lapel of his jacket that engulfed you. Your pulse fluttered when he reached inside the jacket you wore to pull a white handkerchief from its inner pocket. 

Flicking it quickly open, he wetted it with fresh water from his canteen, and he again took your hand in his warm strong grasp. 

“I can clean it myself,” you said, as a trickle of blood spilled from your wound, not wanting to stain his clean effects. 

“I am no stranger to blood,” he offered softly, reading your concern. 

“You shall get blood on your shirt and this is the first occasion that I have seen you wear white.” Your right hand reached to the rolled cuff of his sleeve, caressing the material. 

“Perhaps now you understand why I avoid the color.” He smirked as he began to dab gently at your hand with the handkerchief. 

“I never assumed you would be capable of being gentle with anything,” you mused appreciatively at the softness of his touch. 

“You seem to have made many assumptions about me, Miss Y/N.” He refolded the handkerchief to cover the bloodiest spot with fresh cloth. “Perhaps, I can correct more of them, if given the opportunity.”

“Perhaps.” You smiled at him. 

“Tell me, Miss, how you came to be in the position of governess to the young Hux vermin,” Kylo inquired, distracting you from the pain of your injury. “Once I learned your name, I realized that I have been aware of your family by name for some time. You come from a family far better than your current station.”

“I no longer come from any family, I am afraid,” you explained, lowering your head with embarrassment. “The men in my family died in the war. Now, it is only me. And, as you know, women cannot inherit or hold property, unless they have a title. So, now I am reduced to a governess.”

“You could have married. Kept your estate,” Kylo correctly observed. “Did you not have suitors?”

“Many. One as distasteful as the next.” You shook your head at the thought. “Possessions can be restored. Honor cannot be.”

“Very true,” Kylo agreed. “I admire your conviction. I, too, value honor above comfort.”

Upon finishing with your hand, Kylo rinsed his handkerchief and squeezed it as clean as possible before wetting it again. 

Even more softly than he had attended to your hand, he brought the cloth to your cheek, swiping away some errant splatters of mud. Studying your features, Kylo smiled warmly. 

His hand lingered on your cheek, his calloused thumb caressing your skin without the barrier of the handkerchief. An unexpected wave of heat rushed through you at his simple touch. 

You had to restrain yourself from chasing the touch of his hand when he withdrew it. 

Straightening once again to his full towering height, Kylo held his hand down to take your uninjured right hand and lift you to your feet. Leading you back to his horse, he held your hand tightly. 

Without warning, Kylo lifted you up onto his saddle. You barely had time to adjust yourself before he climbed up behind you. A sharp intake of breath was your only response when his girthy thighs brushed the outside of your legs and his powerful arms surrounded you. Nothing, however, matched the feeling of his chest at your back, expanding against you further with his every breath. 

Spurring his horse forward, the momentum pushed you more firmly back against his chest, causing his arms to tighten around you in response. You wished the ride back would last for hours. 

******************************************************************************************* 

After personally ensuring that your hand was properly cleaned and bandaged, Kylo had to take his leave. However, he promised to call upon you the following day to inquire after your condition. 

Despite your assurances that you were completely fine and that such an excursion was unnecessary, Admiral Ren arrived at Lord Hux’s estate the following afternoon, declaring his intention to stay for dinner. 

After dinner, the moon hung high in the night sky, shining in through the expansive sitting room windows. You found yourself sitting on a plush settee, absently stroking the fresh bandage that wrapped around your left hand, as you traced figures in your sketchbook with your right. 

Standing in the center of the room, Kylo and Hux reminisced of battles together. The room echoed with Kylo’s booming voice, although you were certain that he believed himself to be speaking moderately. 

Rey busied herself by taking turn after turn about the room, exaggerating her motions in a fruitless attempt to draw Kylo’s attention to her figure.

Kylo very pointedly ignored her, shifting his position as she moved to always ensure his back was facing her. 

You watched the display with amusement, smiling to yourself. When your attention drifted to Kylo, you caught his eyes meeting your own, his lips matching your attitude in the barest of grins. 

Suddenly, Hux’s children charged into the room, bursting through the doors. Rushing to you where you relaxed on the settee, they crowded you with demands and cloying hands. As a nefarious unit, they implored you to play a song on the piano for them. It was your evening routine, to play music for the room. Although, the injury to your hand now rendered you incapable. 

“I, too, enjoy music in the evenings, but I am not capable tonight,” you explained. 

A shadow looming over you drew your attention over your shoulder. Kylo had come to stand behind you, glaring darkly at the two children. 

“If my playing would please the lady, then I shall happily indulge her.” Kylo looked deliberately to you, a ghost of his smug smile turning his lips. More than smugness, however, was something else. He was challenging you to implore him, even of something so simple, to give him a task to fulfill on your behalf. Asking you to allow him to do something, anything, to please you. 

“It would please me, Admiral Ren,” you told him with a smile before cocking your eyebrow, “but only if you play well.”

“I shall endeavor not to disappoint you, Miss Y/N,” Kylo assured you. 

Moving from behind you, Kylo shrugged his jacket off as he walked to the piano forte, laying his jacket over its cover. The man looked ridiculously large when he took his seat on the small bench. 

You very nearly started when he began playing, so shocked by the alluring harmony that resonated from the keys under his touch. Your attention was instantly captivated by the sound. It was astonishing, the way his huge fingers so adroitly keyed each note with precision and, even more so, the way he imbued such feeling into every tone. 

As the room filled with the beautiful melody, you watched Kylo gracefully stroke the ivory keys. Soon, your hand began to sketch his profile instead of the absent designs you had been forming. 

You moved to a chair closer to the piano to observe him in greater detail, eyeing him over your sketchbook. 

“With certainty, the room abounds with more pleasing subjects than I,” Kylo spoke amid his elegant keystrokes. “However, if you are decided upon using me as your model, you would be sensible to sketch my good side.”

Your eyes lifted to him for a moment, confused by his words. He met your stare only briefly before returning his attention to his hands. In the soft light, you watched as his jaw clenched under your scrutiny, tightening beneath the scar that streaked his face. You understood his meaning then. 

“I am sketching your good side,” you told him as simply as though you were observing a portrait, not wanting any other emotion to slip out with your words. “You are a handsome man regardless, but it is your scar that renders you dashing.”

Kylo’s eyes shot to you, his body tensing as though you had slapped him across the face. His reaction was camouflaged almost immediately by regaining his stoic composure. His lapse was too brief for most to see, but it did not escape you. Under your gaze, his chest rose with a heavy breath that he released slowly. 

Once your drawing was largely completed, you rose from your seat, taking a moment to stretch the life back into your muscles. It was not lost on you how Kylo watched you sideways, his focus seemingly on his playing. 

Walking slowly to the piano, you set your sketchbook down on its surface. Looking through your eyelashes occasionally at Kylo, you added some final shading. 

“I am impressed, Miss Y/N,” Kylo said lowly, speaking only to you, as he regarded your sketch. 

“I would be remiss to say that I did not enjoy the chance to admire your profile. The lines of your features lend themselves to sketching,” you told him, allowing your voice to soften. 

“I am glad my features please you,” Kylo told you with a mildly confused expression. “I have never been fond of them, myself.”

“My fondness can make up for your lack thereof. I am especially fond of your nose,” you said with a lilt to your words. “And I did not expect such dexterity from hands as enormous as yours.”

“Is that so?” Kylo smiled now, although it held a wicked edge that you had never before seen. “I will admit that the size and dexterity of my hands has applications beyond piano playing that I believe you would appreciate. As does my nose.”

“Your nose?” You laughed lightly. “Now that, you must explain.”

“That particular talent would be much better demonstrated than explained.” Kylo’s eyes glinted mischievously as he looked into yours. “Perhaps one day I shall show you personally.”

“Why wait?” You pressed. “Surely, you are not shy?”

“I am certainly not,” Kylo huffed a laugh with his words. “Although, I fear you would think me beastly if I were to demonstrate my prowess to you in this setting.”

“Very well,” you told him airily. “Keep your secrets all to yourself.”

Kylo stood from his seat at the piano, moving close to you. Resting his large hand on the top of the piano next to yours, almost touching, he leaned down to speak for only your ears. 

“If you desire it, Miss Y/N, I shall reveal all of my talents and my secrets to you and you alone.” His gaze burned into yours in that darkly intense way that you had come to know as his signature. 

Your reply was interrupted by Rey, walking near Kylo and intentionally intruding upon your conversation. 

“Who knew you hid such talents from me, Admiral Ren?” Rey simpered with an over-broad smile. 

“My talents are not lightly given, Miss Rey, nor are they displayed now for your benefit,” Kylo spoke coolly, his eyes on you. “I was otherwise inspired this evening.”

A sly smile turned your lips at his words, as his hand edged almost imperceptibly closer to yours where they both lay on top of the piano. 

“It is a pleasant evening, Miss Y/N,” Kylo mused. “Perhaps, you would join me for a stroll through the garden.”

At his words, Rey’s head jerked to you, sending you her nastiest glare. 

“Fresh air sounds wonderful indeed, Admiral,” you affirmed, reaching a hand to his proffered arm. Hooking it through the crook of his elbow, you allowed him to lead you out of the room and outside into the cool night air. 

Walking quietly arm in arm, you admired the beauty that surrounded you, the emerald hedges and ruby toned roses. Kylo’s arm was rigid under yours, his hand held in a fist matching the tightness in his clenched jaw. 

When he finally spoke, he chose his words carefully. 

“You are a clever woman, Miss Y/N,” he began, a hoarseness in his deep voice. “Surely, you must know that I have not made such frequent visits to this estate for the scintillating conversation that Hux provides.”

“Ah, then it must be his sister who captivates you,” you joshed, knowing full well the meaning behind his words. 

Kylo scoffed at your accusation, shaking his head and waving his hand dismissively before continuing. He could not have offered further non-verbal indications of distaste at the thought. 

“I know you tease me, Miss Y/N, which I have come to find most endearing,” Kylo told you earnestly, “but you should know that she is nothing to me. She has always been nothing to me.”

“Then it seems as though your frequent presence remains a mystery,” you mused, forcing him to speak to you frankly. 

“I have come for the pleasure of your company alone, you infuriating woman.” Kylo shook his head again, fondly this time, as he smiled down at you. 

“Infuriating?” You smiled back at him. “I would take that as a prized compliment coming from you, Admiral Ren.”

“Today, I came to return something to you,” he told you softly. 

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow as he reached inside his jacket. Withdrawing his hand, he held out to you the rose gold comb that you had lost nearly two years ago pinched between his thick fingers. 

“My comb!” You exclaimed, shocked. “You’ve kept it for so long?”

“I resolved myself to find the opportunity to return it to you.” Kylo moved closer to you, holding it out toward your hair. “May I?”

By way of assent, you turned your back to him. He gently placed the comb in position in your hair. His hands then ghosted down your arms with the faintest touch as you returned to face him. 

As his hands fell away from you, his left hand caught your right. Three of his fingers overfilled your palm as his thumb brushed across your knuckles. 

“Lord Hux has implored me to host a ball at my estate for Valentine’s Day,” Kylo told you, holding your hand in his. “I will agree on the singular condition of your attendance.”

“You wish to invite a lowly governess to such an affair?” You beamed up at him, scarcely believing his words. 

“Yes. As the lady of honor, herself,” Kylo told you confidently. “And as the only lady with whom I shall dance.”

“Are you not adverse to dancing, Admiral?” You squeezed his fingers with your teasing question. 

“I am. Unless my partner provides sufficient distraction in the form of a playful argument.” He winked at you affably. 

“Ah, well, if it is to be dancing and an argument, how can I refuse?” You approved. 

At your words, a broad toothy smile broke across Kylo’s features. He beamed wider and more genuine than you had heretofore seen, his eyes crinkling and parenthetical dimples revealing themselves, framing his handsome smile. 

Raising your hand, he brought your knuckles to his lips. Pressing his lips softly to your skin, he kissed you once, rubbed his coarse goatee tantalizingly across your skin as his hot breath warmed your hand, then he placed a second lingering kiss to your knuckles. 

When he lowered your hand, he held your gaze, looking as though he wished to say more, but checking himself. Instead, he settled for intertwining his fingers with yours and leading you hand in hand back through the garden. 

*******************************************************************************************

Time had never passed as slowly as those days leading to the ball. Minutes passed as hours and days felt as long as weeks. You almost resented the occasion approaching because you had not seen Admiral Ren’s dark foreboding figure in the interim. Whether his absence was due to overseeing preparations or born from a desire to heighten your anticipation, you had not decided.

Every molecule of your reserve was required to suppress your tongue when Rey ignorantly boasted of her machinations to secure the Admiral’s affection at the ball. You could hardly fathom her unawareness of his intent when he had made it known that, above all, he desired your presence. 

Although, the thought of seeing Admiral Ren at the ball, of dancing in his arms, elated you, a small sense of embarrassment flitted through you on occasion. You had no gown that was befitting of such an event other than the same gown which you had worn to the summer ball the night you met him. 

Valentine’s Day dawned beautifully pink and golden, a pastel sky painted in all the colors of romance. You had hardly slept, so elated at what the evening may bring, yet not daring to allow yourself to indulge too heavily in the hope of something remarkable. 

Frantic knocking on your door pulled you out from the warmth of your bed. Throwing on a dressing gown and tying it hastily, you flung open your door. 

Standing outside, similarly dressed, was Rey. 

“A package came in the early dark of the morning,” she told you. A guise of comradery, her excitement a mask for her prying curiosity. “It did not identify a sender. I cannot imagine who would be sending you a package, today of all days.”

“There is but one way to find out,” you said excitedly, rushing past her, down the hall and stairs. 

Rey was close on your heels when you burst into the dining room to find Lord Hux seated for breakfast, already dressed primly as always. 

A rectangular box sat on the large table. Studying the matte black box, wrapped with an elegantly tied blood red brocade ribbon, you smiled brightly. You knew at once the identity of its sender. 

Carefully, almost reverently, you untied the ribbon and lifted the box’s lid. Gasping excitedly at the sight of its contents, you pulled your gift from the box, lifting it high. The finest crimson fabric you had ever felt cascaded down from your grip, as you held aloft the most elegantly decadent gown you had ever seen. 

A small white card fell to the floor from its hiding place within the folds of the gown. Folding the dress carefully and returning it to the box, you bent to retrieve the card. Written upon it in graceful black calligraphy was a simple message. 

I eagerly await your arrival this evening, as my arm awaits the placement of your hand upon it. Kylo. 

Raising the card to your nose, your eyes fell closed when his faint lingering scent met your nose. 

Another gasp filled the room, more akin to a viper’s hiss. Rey looked at you venomously, eyeing you and your gift with dripping contemptuous envy. 

It hardly mattered to you. 

Nor did it matter to you when she turned her eyes to those of her brother, a silent exchange passing between them. 

Gathering your gift, you rushed back to your room, ready to busy yourself by making your beauty shine as brightly as possible for your rendezvous with your handsome Admiral. 

The Huxes had planned with you to depart once the sun had set. As evening approached, the sun dipping toward the western horizon, you made the last refinements to your appearance and donned your new dress. Material so fine had never before touched your body nor had a cut so flattering ever hugged your curves as the crimson gown did now. 

Before leaving your room, you took a moment to admire yourself in the mirror. Seeing the result of your planning and preening made you smile. You looked truly beautiful. Although you may now be nothing more than a governess, tonight your beauty would set you above every other woman from even the highest social strata. Your mind drifted to Kylo, picturing how you would look paired with the darkly handsome man. 

An ebullient skip in your step carried you swiftly from your room, down the winding staircase, and through the halls of the manor. 

The hall and foyer were vacant. Nor was there any sound emanating from the sitting room or dining room. 

Upon stepping outside to inquire of the footman your departure time, your heart sank down to your toes. The rays of the setting sun glinted off the spinning wheels of Hux’s carriage as it made its departure down the long road that led away from the manor. 

They had left without you. 

Tears stung at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, refused to give them the satisfaction of making you cry. Your hands clenched into fists, shaking at your side, and your jaw tightened until you thought your teeth would crack. 

Standing there, watching the carriage disappear into the dusk, you considered your options. You had nearly resolved yourself to saddle a horse and charge ahead, to arrive at the ball before their carriage. That idea was dismissed solely on the basis that arriving at a ball covered in dust and horse sweat would hardly be the way you wished to greet the only man who had ever made your pulse quicken. 

Realizing that there was truly nothing that you could do to correct this wrong was the worst feeling of all. You were not a woman who had ever accepted being powerless, and here you were, subject to the petulant whims of your ‘superiors.’ 

No fairy godmother would come to your rescue tonight. 

Staring down at your jeweled shoes and shoulders slumped, you returned back inside the manor. 

Part of you wanted to rip your dress off, tear it to shreds, and never think of it again. Another part of you defiantly resolved to wear it for the evening, keeping your appearance pristine, so that when the Huxes returned, they would see for themselves how they were unable to crush your spirit and how your beauty put all others to shame. That part of you won. 

Walking through the lonely manor, you visited the library, choosing a tale of adventure in which to lose yourself in the vivid escapades of a fictional character. 

The warm light from inside the manor shone through its large windows, penetrating the darkness beyond its walls enough to illuminate part of the garden. The light was sufficient for you to read by its faint glow from your seat on the edge of the fountain in the comfortably cool air, surrounded by fragrant bouquets and beautiful landscaping. 

The moon rose into the clear starry sky as you read, trying to escape the dreariness of your circumstance. 

Raising your eyes from the pages of the book, you looked up to appreciate the moon’s beauty. When you returned your attention to your book, its pages were covered in shadow. 

Turning your head to find the source of the mysterious shadow, you were startled by a monstrous wall of black. 

Kylo’s broad hulking body both blocked the light from the manor and brightened your evening more than a midnight sun. 

“Admiral Ren!” You exclaimed, jumping to your feet so fast that Kylo’s hands shot to your arms to steady you, warm and strong. “How? What are you doing here?”

“You promised me a dance,” Kylo told you in his rich baritone, the light of the moon reflecting in his eyes as he gazed upon you with a smile. “I’ve come to collect it.”

“You should be at the ball,” you scolded him softly. “At your ball.”

“I have no regard for such events, as you know.” Kylo shook his head as his hands trailed down your arms, one landing on the small of your back, the other taking your hand. “I hosted it exclusively for you. When I learned of your absence, I removed myself. In favor of seeking your company”

Your free hand lifted to rest on his dense chest, as he began to move with you. You had never danced like this before, alone with a single partner. 

“I shall take you there now, should you wish it. To the ball,” Kylo told you, his voice soft. “Although, I greatly prefer this setting myself.” Kylo smiled down at you, moving gently with you to a silent tune.

“I am loathe to admit that you are correct,” you raised your chin to meet his eyes, “but I am in agreement with you.”

Kylo’s only response was the broadening of his smile. You felt weightless as he swayed and spun with you in his arms. As you let him dance you into a state of incandescent happiness, you could feel the power and strength emanating from his body. Moonlight glimmered throughout his mane of ebony hair, clinging to its strands like morning dew, and when you gazed into his eyes, they shone brilliantly back into yours. 

“Manners dictate that I tell you how beautiful you look, but that simply will not do.” Kylo’s voice thrummed in his chest beneath your hand. “You look exquisite tonight, Y/N. Luminous with beauty. Lovely beyond compare.”

Beaming up at him with more elation than you had ever felt, you saw something new in his honeyed eyes that you had never before seen present in their depths. Kylo’s gaze was one of pure adoration, as he smiled down at you, holding you close and dancing with you under the stars. 

Slowly, his head dropped toward yours, closing the distance between your faces until the tip of his nose brushed against your cheek next to your own. Your eyes fell shut as you turned just enough for your lips to brush against his. 

When Kylo kissed you it felt as though every star in the night sky was pricking your skin, raising goosebumps across your flesh and sending a rush of heat through your body. His lips were plush and masterful, as he kissed you softly. Under the caress of his lips, you melted against him, desiring never to be outside of his embrace ever again. 

Kylo kept his hold around you tight when he pulled back from your kiss. Chewing his lip, his dancing stilled as he regarded you for a moment before speaking. 

“You must know...” Kylo’s voice trailed off before he took a heavy breath, continuing in a deeper tone, “Surely, you must know how fervently I love you. That I am drowning in the depths of my love for you.”

Your kiss-ripened lips fell open at his words, as you tried to blink away the moisture in your eyes. 

“My only salvation is to allow myself to be immersed entirely in it,” Kylo continued, a plea in his tone. “Give me your heart, your hand, so that I may be engulfed, consumed, by my love for you. I shall endeavor every day to deserve you and to keep your lovely lips smiling for me.”

Words failed you but your arms did not as they flew around his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips in another searing kiss. Kylo was already making good on his promise, burning his adoration for you into your lips with his own. 

*******************************************************************************************

Weddings are beautiful affairs. Few things are more delightful to witness than the celebration of love and unity that such a ceremony provides. 

Especially, when that is a wedding such as yours. A grand and elegant affair, the largest and most anticipated of the year. Guests travelled from across the continent to see what sort of woman was able to tame the beast that was the formidable Admiral Kylo Ren. All assumed that the rumors of your beauty were exaggerated only slightly less than the rumors of Admiral Ren being rendered a doting and loving gentleman by your presence. All who made such assumptions were shocked to find the rumors and whispers were not only well founded but that they were, in fact, rather understated. 

“Never since Hades found Persephone has one’s love for a woman brought so much light into the darkness of a frightening man’s heart.” As one elderly patroness of great esteem remarked. 

The grounds of Kylo’s estate where your wedding took place were vast and sprawling, composed of forests, greenery, manicured lawns, and elegant gardens. His manor itself was the largest in the county, an imposing stone monstrosity befitting its owner. You mused that it would take you weeks to learn your way around your new home. 

For your wedding, the most beautiful corner of his garden had been transformed into a romantic oasis of beauty and elegance. An arch of ivy and hundreds of vibrant red and pink roses had been erected at the head of his garden. 

Kylo stood under it now, sweaty hands clasped rigidly in front of him, biting a hole through the inside of his cheek, as he awaited your arrival. 

All eyes were on you when you walked down the aisle to give yourself fully to the man of your dreams. It is a pity, however, that no one but you watched Kylo, dashing and resplendent in his bespoke suit. Surely, no one would ever believe you, should you tell them, that Kylo’s eyes glistened wet as you walked toward him; that before taking your hands in his, he hastily reached to wipe some errant moisture away from his cheek. 

Even more so than Kylo ensured your wedding was beautiful, he did everything within his considerable power to ensure your wedding night was magical. 

When he led you into his bedroom, you were awestruck by its majesty. A spicy exotic scent that perfumed the air filled your nose as you took in the sprawling room. 

Flickering golden light emanating from dozens of candles illuminated your new shared bedroom. The dancing hue of firelight blended with the rays of the moon streaming in through your expansive windows, their heavy brocade drapes tied open. An opulent bouquet of pastel pink and crimson red roses sat on the enormous admiral’s style desk that was positioned near the windows, perfect for Kylo to keep watch over the grounds of his imposing estate while seated behind it. The circumference of the bouquet was so large that you doubted if Kylo could even wrap his arms around it. 

The room itself was lavish and decadent. Everywhere you looked was marble, gild, and molding. Even the vaulted ceilings were patterned in three-dimensional crown molding. The streaked marble floor was a few shades darker than the marble that formed a grand fireplace and mantle. A blooming fire filled the room with its glow and the soothing sounds of its crackles and sparks. 

Of course, the centerpiece was the bed. You had never seen a bed so large or a canopy lifted so high by its intricately carved walnut pillars. Matching the drapes in form, the canopy, too, was tied open, draping elegantly around the pillars. 

While your eyes feasted on every detail and nuance of the room, Kylo walked to his desk. He made quick work of undoing the buttons on his waistcoat as he walked. Shrugging his jacket away from his broad shoulders and following with his waistcoat, he draped both over the back of the leather chesterfield chair that sat behind his desk. 

Kylo then studied the large bouquet. After picking the finest crimson rose he could locate, he walked back to you. 

Holding the rose out for your approval, Kylo’s lips turned in a slight smile, as you leaned forward to inhale its perfume. Kylo took half a step closer when you raised your face from the flower, only inches separating your bodies. 

Instead of lowering the rose, he brought it closer to your face. You sighed when the silky petals touched your lips. Looking up into Kylo’s eyes, they were darker and more ravenous than you had ever seen, as he delicately traced the bow of your pout with the rose. 

With the closeness of your bodies, you could smell the masculine scent of him on the air mingling with the floral bouquet. Your eyes fell closed as the aromas consumed you. 

When the rose fell away from your lips, its softness was replaced with the heat of Kylo’s mouth on yours. He kissed you deep and slow, taking his time as he relished in the feeling of your lips. A taste of the passion to come.

Your movements were more urgent when you reached to unbutton his shirt and push it away from his body. Breaking your kiss once he was freed from his shirt, you stared at the magnificent expanse of his chest and shoulders. Your hands ran across the dense planes and ridges of muscle, feeling it firm as marble under your touch. His pale skin was beautifully decorated with a spattering of scars that your fingers traced and caressed. 

Kylo groaned with desire when your hand skimmed down his body to palm the intimidatingly large bulge through the fabric of his trousers. Once you clumsily worked his pants open, your hand dipped eagerly inside to feel his hot heavy cock, unable to connect your fingers around his girth. 

“You are woefully overdressed, my love,” Kylo huffed affectionately, moving behind you to begin undoing the laces of your dress. 

Standing at your back, Kylo brushed your hair aside, leaning down to inhale the fragrance of your locks before attaching his lips to the delicate skin of your neck. His mouth sent a rash of pleasurable goosebumps raising across your body as he carefully unlaced your dress and undergarments. 

Warm strong hands and long thick fingers caressed you as he pushed your dress down your body and away from you to pool at your feet. Your back arched when his fingers trailed back up your thighs. Pressing your shoulders back against his broad chest, you felt it expand impossibly further as he breathed in your scent, pressing his large nose against your neck behind your jaw while he continued to kiss and lick at your skin. 

A sigh of pleasure escaped your parted lips, praising the man at your back, “Kylo...”

Hot breath and plush lips contrasted with the sharp sensation of his teeth as gentle bites now mingled with the wet kisses he littered along the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

Kylo’s left hand smoothed up the front of your body to your breast, teasing your nipple between his thumb and finger. Once you were peaked, he accomplished both squeezing your breast and rubbing his calloused palm across your nipple in one sensual repetitive motion. 

The fingers of his right hand reached the top of your thigh, moving between them to skim the outside of your pussy, smearing the slick that had already collected there as his lips returned to your ear. 

“You’re dripping for me, my darling.” His deep voice thrummed through you from your ear down to pool in your abdomen. You inhaled sharply when he slowly pushed two digits into you, spreading you open around his girthy fingers as they curled inside of you. 

Moaning in pleasure, you dropped your head back onto Kylo’s shoulder as his thick fingers rubbed against your perfect hidden places. 

Kylo’s mouth found your pulse point as he kissed and sucked at your neck. He could feel your pulse quicken under his lips as he pumped his fingers into your pussy. His cock pressed against your ass through his pants, its veins throbbing in time with your pulse. 

Withdrawing his fingers from you, Kylo turned you to face him. His gaze raked your body hungrily, admiring every curve of your figure. 

A coy smile on your lips, you backed toward the bed. Kylo paused only long enough to shove his pants down his muscular thighs. Your breath caught at the sight of his giant cock swinging free from its confines. The ridge running the long length of its underside swelled prominently like the veins that snaked its girth, its fat velvety tip shining with precum. 

A proud smile turned his lips at your expression as he again closed the distance between your bodies.

Falling back onto the bed, your body bounced slightly on the mattress. Bending over you, he took a lingering moment to admire the sight of you, laid bare beneath him. His cock twitched and throbbed as his gaze fell to your pussy, glistening in the candlelight and flushed with your heightened arousal, a flower blooming for him alone. 

“I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you,” Kylo purred as he lowered himself over you, planting his hands on either side of your waist. “Nothing has ever compared to you.”

Dropping his head, he brought his lips to your breast. Lingering on your nipple, his tongue swirled around its peak while he sucked it lightly. His mouth then moved slowly down your body, trailing wet kisses as he traveled lower. 

Pausing to grin up at you and meet your eyes, he placed a hot wet kiss to the top of your pussy. Your legs trembled as he lifted them over his shoulders. Lowering himself further, he parted your folds with a swipe of his aquiline nose, leaving its tip to rest against your clit as he kissed at your lips. 

Talented indeed. 

The feeling of Kylo’s tongue when he licked into you was superior to any sensation you had ever felt. The feeling of pure bliss he elicited so easily with the strokes of his tongue along your folds was like nothing you had ever experienced. 

“You’re the finest delicacy I’ve ever tasted, my love,” Kylo groaned into you.

You were too enraptured to do anything but moan Kylo’s name. Your hands quickly found themselves tangled in his thick mane as your hips bucked subtly against his face of their own accord. 

Your husband’s amber eyes held yours in a burning gaze as he licked as deeply into you as he could, his eyes only briefly falling closed when he savored the taste of you. 

Merely the sight alone, of this dangerous and powerful man with his handsomely scarred face between your thighs, was almost enough to push you over the precipice. 

The gravity of pleasure was beginning to pull you over the edge when he brought his tongue to trace his name across your clit, before sucking it between his lips. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream when he sucked at you heavily enough to hollow his cheeks.

“Oh, Kylo!” You moaned loudly, as you felt yourself plunging into a chasm of ecstasy, fisting his hair roughly as you fell. 

A rush of heat flooded you, as you came on Kylo’s hungry lips and ardent tongue. He kissed and licked you ravenously as you pulsed and gushed, extending your pleasure as long as he could until your quivering subsided. 

Lifting his mouth from your throbbing pussy, Kylo kissed at your inner thigh as he looked up at you, smiling proudly. 

Even your thighs trembled with residual pleasure on either side of his face from the force of your orgasm. With an eager growl, he raised himself to crawl back up your body. 

You felt boneless as he moved over you, caging you inside his finely muscled arms. Your hands fell away from his hair, one holding his neck as an anchor, the other falling limp above your head. 

Lowering himself over you, Kylo’s lips met yours, his jaw working passionately as he smeared his adoration against your lips. 

You felt more than heard a low growl rumble through his chest, reverberating through your entire body, as his massive cock sank into your silken heat. Even relaxed and dripping with arousal, the stretch of him was intense. You moaned as he filled you with every long thick inch until his hips were flush with you, your pussy just the perfect fit for him. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” Kylo groaned. “So tight on my cock.”

The feel of you made Kylo shudder with pleasure as he thrust his cock into you. You felt his muscles tensing beneath your hand at the feeling of being surrounded by your tight wet pussy. 

Kylo bent to kiss you sweetly before his hips began rocking at first and then pounding into you, each thrust shoving your body further into the mattress beneath him. 

Reaching his enormous hand to yours that was flung above your head, he laced his fingers through your own, connecting every possible part of your bodies together. His other hand supported his weight as his mouth returned to your neck, kissing and sucking marks into your skin.

“You’re intoxicating, my love,” he purred below your ear. 

Kylo knew exactly how to elicit more pleasure from you, exactly how to angle his cock to hit the best spots inside of you with every slam of his hips. He withdrew nearly his full length with every thrust, pounding back into you with a force that made you shiver with his every movement. You could feel every ridge on his cock drag and rub against your stretched walls, sending blissful sparks shooting through your body with each heavy thrust. 

Soon, your breath was coming in gasps as your pussy tightened around his perfect cock. Only a few more pumps of his cock were needed to spring the coil that had tightened almost painfully in your core. With each thrust, your pussy tried to suck him in further as he drove himself as deep inside of you as he could reach and as deep as you could possibly take. 

“Cum for me, lovely,” Kylo growled deep and rich as he pounded into you. “I want to feel my wife cum all over my cock.”

At his command, you came a second time in heady waves of pleasure. An incoherent whine escaped your lips, while your pussy clenched around his thick cock in time with the pulses of your ecstasy. 

Kylo’s head fell back, pointing toward the ceiling like a wolf howling at the moon. Groaning deep and wholly lost in pleasure of his own, he fucked your tightened pussy through your orgasm. 

His eyes were wild with lust when he returned his gaze to you, his lips turned into a feral grin. Baring his teeth as he looked down upon you, his hair fell in jostling waves around his beautifully menacing visage. 

Fucking into you more roughly, he chased his own pleasure. He propped both hands on either side of your head to keep from crushing you beneath his powerful body with the force of his motions.

Kylo’s arms began to tremble, as his cock throbbed inside of you. A thunderous growl tore through his chest and out of his throat when he came. You could feel his heat spreading into you as he pumped you full of the thick ropes of his cum, grinding his cock as deep into you as he possibly could.

He kissed and licked along the side of your neck and throat as his cock softened inside of you. Holding you tight beneath his heavy body, he kissed you for several long minutes, not wanting to separate your bodies. 

Caressing you with his lips, he silently praised and soothed you when he finally lifted himself from above you, kissing his way down your neck. His mouth was hot and open when he reached your collarbone, leaving kisses along it as he withdrew from you. 

Rolling onto his back, Kylo pulled you with him onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you to hold you tight against him. His lips grazed your hair as he inhaled the heavenly scent trapped in your waves. 

As you lay, held in Kylo’s warm iron embrace, your head rising and falling with his chest as his breath steadied beneath you, you could scarcely believe your present happiness. 

Raising your head from his chest, you propped yourself up beside him, tracing a pattern on his chest with your fingernails. Kylo’s large hand stroked your back gently as he looked up at you with a soft smile. 

“Are you pleased with me?” You asked Kylo teasingly, knowing the answer with certainty. 

“I realize now that I have never before known either happiness or pleasure until you, my beautiful darling,” Kylo promised, smiling up at you. His eyes glimmered in the firelight, shining with reverence as he regarded you lovingly. 

“I shall always take pride in my role of providing you both happiness and pleasure,” you vowed. 

“And you, my love,” he continued, his voice softer. “Have I pleased you?”

“So much so that I never wish to leave your embrace,” you assured him. 

“You are my wife,” Kylo told you huskily. “My arms belong entirely to you. As does all of me. And you shall never leave my embrace unless you wish it.”

*******************************************************************************************

© safarigirlsp 2021

It took only a brief look inside for you to realise the book had nothing to do with baskets at all. Your cheeks grew very hot and you slammed the book shut, not wanting to be caught reading it, at least not here. And so in the end you returned to Mayfair with a very different sort of book.

Which lead you up to now, sitting in your bedchambers, awaiting your husband who should return from parliament any time now. You turned the book open to study the position once more. It was the most devious, most erotic drawing you had ever seen. The way the man’s wrists had been crossed over and snuggly tied to the bedpost, the way the woman on top appeared to be lowering herself onto him, you had to admit you hadn’t even known it was possible!

You slammed the book quickly when you heard approaching footsteps you knew belonged to your husband. You hid the book in the top drawer of your writing desk, beneath loose stationery, and pushed the door shut.

The Viscount used your first name to greet you, coming into the room just as you tossed the ribbons onto the bed.

“Hello darling,” you smiled turning to face him. You felt slightly nauseous as you watched his eyes flicker briefly to the ribbon on the bed. You made yourself take a deep breath as he turned back to you, trying to force your nerves to calm, he didn’t know what you were up to, he couldn’t.

“I did not expect to find you here at this time of day,” he spoke walking towards you. You hated when he looked at you this way - like he already knew all of your secrets, but you knew you couldn’t look away, that would be as good as branding yourself with the word “guilty”.

“I was hoping we might enjoy each other’s company for a while, before dinner,” you did your best to sound innocent, snaking your arms around his neck.

“Is that so?” He queried, his hands coming down to grasp your waist.

“Yes,” you breathed, tipping your face up to meet his. He kissed you briefly, before pulling back.

“And what might be the occasion?” 

“No occasion,” you shook your head, tugging slightly at his cravat. He hummed thoughtfully but didn’t reply, allowing you to pull the material free. You knew he was suspicious, but he didn’t push, allowing you to pull through his layers. His hands roamed you, undressing you at a much slower pace than you were him. And so when you finished you splayed your hands across his chest, and leaned forward, kissing slowly up his torso. 

“You’re very eager,” he noted, finally removing your drawers.

“Is such a sin to want one’s husband?” You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping to replace his curiosity with lust.

“Not at all,” He smirked, pulling your now naked form closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you had to be careful here, one wrong move and you would end up below him, and then you might as well forget your plans. You let your hands roam him a moment longer and slowly, slowly backed him up to the bed and then-

“I know you left Mayfair today,” He broke away, speaking down to you. Your brows furrowed.

“How did you-”

“I gave him five pounds.” 

He then took you by surprise, dropped back on the bed, and pulling you along on top of him. This was good, now he was right where you wanted him. 

“Five?” You gasped, trying to linger on the topic of staff rather than your unauthorised outing. “We shall be out a coachman when he runs off with his new fortune.” 

His fingertips grazed the flesh of your hips, tracing your skin, his touch was sinful but you couldn’t allow yourself to bask in it now, you needed his hands higher up. Your situation was still quite precarious after all, he might flip you onto your back at any moment.

“I don’t know what was more foolish, you leaving Mayfair or thinking I wouldn’t know,” he admonished. You grasped his hands, feeling pleased when he cooperated, and dragged them up slowly.

“I did bring Daisy along,” you pointed out, frowning innocently.

“I’m beginning to believe I allow you too many liberties, perhaps I ought to take you in hand,” He spoke suggestively, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes were darkening, you were running out of time, if you were going to act it had to be now.

“Actually,” you leaned in.

All at once, you took over. In a speed even you hadn’t known you possessed, you snatched up your hair ribbons, which were already within arms reach, and shoved his wrists against the headboard, tossing one over the other and tied them to the spot, quickly and firmly. You prayed it was tight enough.

“I should like to take a few more liberties before the day is through,” your lips ghosted over his, your stomach lurched at the boldness of your actions but you held your composure.

“You devilish woman,” he pulled his head back from you, leaning against the pillow to look up at your handiwork. He survived the bonds for a moment but made no effort to yank free, instead he sighed.

“That was very clever of you darling,” he admitted, turning his gaze from his hands to meet you again. “But what do you plan to do now that you have me?”

“A great many things I should think,” you spoke boldly. You reached down and grasped his length, first loosely, then you tightened a bit, give him a few teasing strokes. You watched proudly as his already partially hard cock grew firmer in your grip, fully standing at attention now. Still in the first bloom of marriage, you hadn’t mastered his body yet. You were still learning the best ways to touch and tease. 

A few drops were beginning to collect at his tip so you swiped your thumb along his slit, collecting the moisture, the contact making him hiss. And then, feeling incredibly vulgar, you lifted your thumb to your mouth and licking slowly. Kylo let out a shameless moan in response, watching you with great interest. This was going very well indeed.

“And where might my sweet little wife get such a wicked idea from?” He quirked a brow, watching your hand work him. Even now, bound to the bed he looked calm and collected, and perhaps even somehow still in control. In fact, he looked almost as if he was lying in the garden of your country home, basking in the summer sun. 

You didn’t answer. He was fully and entirely erect now and so you pulled away, leaning up on his thighs and looking down at him with determination. Your hand slipped between your legs and you touched yourself, pushing two fingers inside of yourself and moving them in a sort of scissoring motion the way Kylo always did before he took you. It wasn’t the same of course, your fingers were smaller and you couldn’t work yourself open the same way, but you did your best given your position. 

“If you need help wife, you need but ask,” he chimed, watching you touch yourself. His demeanour was still collected but there was a hunger in his eyes, clearly you weren’t the only one who wished it was his fingers plunged inside of you.

“That’s quite alright husband,” you shook your head, pulling your fingers away and moving above him. You grasped him again aligning himself to your opening and taking a deep breath.

“Go ahead, darling.”

Perhaps he was asking you to hurry along because he was eager, but it was also possible his words were encouraging, and you couldn’t have him thinking you were nervous, so you briskly lowered yourself all the way down, filling yourself to the brim. You both moaned loudly at your action. 

You hadn’t been able to open yourself up as well as he does, so the stretch of him burned more deeply than you were used to causing you to wince. Being on top you knew you had all the time you would like to adjust, but you couldn’t give your husband the satisfaction of knowing how affected you were.

And so you adjusted slightly and, -consequential soreness be damned- you began rocking yourself on top of him, up and down. The third time you moved you went too far and he slipped out of you. You nearly cursed but instead you simply repositioned and tried again. 

It took you a few tries to set a rhythm, and Kylo, knowing when and when to not tease his wife, kept his amusement to himself as best he could while you gathered your bearings. Finally, you slipped into a fluid pattern, bouncing on top of him rather pleasantly.

Whenever Kylo bedded you, he fully sheathed himself with every single thrust, knocking against something deep inside of you, and he couldn’t help but notice that now that it was your turn you made sure to never drop all the way down. Not because you didn’t enjoy the feeling, he knew you liked it quite a bit, but rather he realised it was too intense for you to subject yourself to. 

It felt wonderful to have him this way, but it was taking quite a bit of energy to maintain your pace and you were beginning to develop a newfound sense of respect that he was able to ravish you so frequently and for so long. You knew you’d be able to finish this way, and you were fairly sure he could too, and so you willed yourself to carry on. It wasn’t until you begin to pant softly that Kylo couldn’t resist speaking up.

“You seem to be overexerting yourself, dear, shall I take over for you?” He cooed, his voice sweet and heavy like honey. It was a tempting proposition, to roll over and let him have you, but you finally held power in your grasps, and who knows when you might have it again?

“N-no,” you shook your head violently, picking up the speed even though your muscles were screaming, begging you to stop.

“Very well, come here then,” he nodded once, urging you toward him. You complied, sliding your hands further up his chest and leaning down to kiss him. Once he had your mouth on him he began to move beneath you, rocking up in time with you so that the next time you came down he slid farther inside of you knocking against your cervix making you screech his name, and then he did it again, and again.

“Touch yourself for me,” he groaned against your mouth. And so you did without thinking, having to shift in the process so you could reach, which only allowed him to further space to thrust up into you. You couldn’t believe it, he was topping from the bottom? 

“Oh Kylo!” you exclaim, jolting when your fingers found your own little bud.

“That’s it darling,” he groaned, his own composure beginning to cripple, “come with me.” Your chest tightened, your rocking had grown sloppy and he was doing the bulk on the work now, he pushed up into you once, twice more and then your world shattered. Your eyes squeezed shut and your head tilted back, your mouth falling ajar. You felt him finish inside of you, gushing around your walls. 

You were breathing heavily, even after the effects of your release had faded, feeling utterly and completely exhausted.

“That was excellent my love,” he spoke, and before you had the chance to free him, he tugged away from the bonds all on his own. The ribbons fell to the bed and you realised he had merely been allowing you to believe you had him subdued. He leaned up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you down to the bed. In instant, you were lying on your back and he on his side, holding you tenderly and wrapping you up in sheets. 

“But in the future, I should think it better suited if you were the one in bondage, dear wife.” He dropped a swift kiss on your cheek. “And we will be having a discussion later about your little trip.”

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