Author notes: If you are here for smut, I won't judge you. You will find it in: Chapter 1, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 17, Chapter 21, Chapter 24, and the Epilogue.

Enjoy the story, or the smut, if that's what you're here for!

She rounded a corner on the verge of breaking into a run. Somehow, she had avoided any encounters with Stormtroopers thus far, but she knew her luck was bound to run out. She heard the hiss of a door opening, and whipped around, her hand on the lightsaber at her hip. She scanned for motion, her muscles coiled for a fight, but she saw nothing. After a heart-pounding moment, she turned back to the corridor.

Her heart stopped as she found herself face-to-face with a dark figure. She struggled to draw in a breath as she scanned up to his face.

But she already knew who stood before her. She did not need to see his brooding face to know that, inches before her, stood Kylo Ren.

She started to back away from him at the same moment he started to step forward. He reached his arm out, and her heart strangled out a panicked beat. She heard another door opening, and before she could react, they had stepped through it.

The door closed, but she could not break eye contact. It was magnetic, demanding; his dark gaze held her as if in a trance and she felt unable to move, to breathe...

Together, they drew in a shaking breath, breaking the icy silence. Her eyes flitted across his face, traced his scar, his lips. His scent - masculine, clean, sharp - washed over her. She could still feel the cool metal of her lightsaber beneath her fingers; the warmth from his proximity was a sharp contrast. Her heart raced.

In a flash, the reality of their surroundings hit her - a supply closet, a few crates, the white glow of utility lights. They were alone.

How long had they been standing, staring, in silence? His lips parted as if to speak, and her fingers tightened on the hilt of her saber.

With a small step, he closed the gap between them. She stood firm as his lips met hers, his ungloved hand gently tipping her chin upward. She heard his gloves hit the floor half a second later, before she had realized he had taken them off. Her mouth opened to his kiss as she registered the soft warmth of his lips and her hand fell from her lightsaber to hang loosely at her side. For a moment that seemed an eternity, she was frozen in place, tasting arousal, desperation, loneliness, and even hatred on his lips.

The trance seemed to break all at once, even as he kissed her hungrily. Energy returned to her arms at her side, and the Force coursed through her fingers like electricity. She reached out with it, only her fingers betraying her intentions with rigid motion. She felt his saber in her phantom grasp, slid the Force around it like tendrils. The formless fist closed around it, lifted it -

A sharp clatter rang out in the heavy silence as both their lightsabers hit the wall and fell to the floor farthest from them.

He pulled away from her in surprise, his dark eyes searching her face, and then running down her outstretched arm. She could feel his gaze as if it were his fingers, slowly running from her shoulder, to her fingertips, to their sabers on the ground.

Her breaths were short and shallow as his eyes returned to hers searchingly. Her eyes slid across his shoulder to watch his arm raising to hers. Their breathing seemed in rhythm; neither could speak, could catch their breath. Her arm hung suspended by some invisible string, heavy and weightless at once. What had she done, disarming both of them? Was he reaching for his lightsaber or her hand? Her chest felt heavy, as if a weight was pressing on it.

Their eyes were fixed together on their hands, outstretched towards the lightsabers discarded on the floor, towards the other's hand.

She drew in a shuddering breath, the weight on her chest vanishing, the string on her arm snapping. His eyes darted back to hers, his pupils black and dilated with fear or…something else. Her ears filled with the hum of the ship, with their gasping breaths, with the blood rushing through her.

They crashed together like ocean waves. Their arms pulled inward in a frenetic embrace as their mouths met in a ravenous kiss. She pulled, he pushed, until her back hit the wall of the closet, knocking her breath into his.

Physical sensation overwhelmed her mind – his lips were soft, his mouth warm. He had the slightest hint of stubble on his face. His torso was strong and firm and energy coursed through his arms to his fingertips. Everywhere he touched her – her shoulder, her arm, her waist – he left hot traces, fingerprints. One of her hands entwined in his hair, the other pressed against the back of his neck, pulling him closer, closer.

He broke the kiss to move his mouth down her jaw to her neck. His hot, humid breath marked the path, leaving her prickling with goosebumps. His hands tugged at the neckline of her tunic, exposing more skin to his explorations. Almost as if on purpose, he kept his body from pressing against hers. He kissed where her neck met her shoulders, her clavicle, the triangle of skin exposed by her tunic. Her hands clasped the back of his head, her shoulders pressed into the wall behind her, allowing her to raise her chest to his advances.

Arousal burned between her legs like a bonfire. She felt herself quickly careening out of control. One thought bubbled to the top above all others. Kneel, she commanded him, pleaded him wordlessly.

As if he heard her, he sank to his knees in front of her, his plaintive dark eyes fixed on hers. She couldn't draw in a breath; each gasp caught in her throat. She was lightheaded with anticipation. Her hands fell from his head to press against the wall behind her for support. His eyes lowered to stare straight ahead of him, where she burned the most. Her legs supported her numbly as his hands reached up to the waistband of her trousers and slipped beneath it.

Sensually, he drew her trousers and pants down in one dripping motion. Against her will, a choking groan escaped her, falling somewhere between frustration and arousal.

His hands traced up her thighs lightly until they rested just inches from her burning clit. She sighed, and his eyes flicked up to hers as she looked down at him. Not breaking eye contact, he leaned forward, parting her outer lips with his thumbs. She let her head fall back on her shoulders and her eyes close, but she held her breath in agonal expectation. She lifted her leg to rest her thigh on his shoulder as she felt his breath on her desperate flesh.

His tongue found its mark just as she thought she couldn't stand it any longer. A wave of relaxation spread through her body as he reached behind her to pull her hip into him. One of her hands lazily found his head again as her fingers combed into his hair. She moaned softly, tentatively as she gave into the pleasure. Her legs trembled but his firm grasp on her hip provided stony support as she searched for a handhold on the wall.

"Ben," she gasped, surprising herself. Her whisper hung in the air between them, the first word either one of them had spoken since the encounter in the corridor.

Her knees threatened to buckle as his tongue became more aggressive. His fingers dug into the flesh at her hip, blanching the skin beneath them. Her thigh pressed down on his shoulder, pinning his knees to the ground. He pressed her clitoris into her pubic bone with his mouth.

Pleasure rose within her, surging from her cunt to her gut and beyond. The wave built through her chest and into her throat, bringing delicious and unbearable pressure. Energy coursed through her as if she were a tightly coiled spring, ready at any moment to explode in a violent burst. Electricity boiled in her chest, teetering on the edge of lightning. She wanted to scream, to push him away, to pull him closer.

She collected the sensation within her like water in cupped hands, desperately trying to keep it in. She was quickly losing control and groaned with the effort of fighting the cresting wave.

Silence hit her like a blow to the head. For an eternal second, as warmth spread through her in a lazy tide, there was nothing she could feel but pleasure.

Sound rushed back – the pounding of her heart in her ears, her own gasping breaths, again the soft but ever-present hum of the ship – as she relished each pulse of her orgasm as it came. Her knuckles were white in his hair, and his mouth was warm and wet on her as he ceaselessly tortured her. Her surroundings took on a halo of warm gold. The wave coursed out her fingertips in a final crescendo, and the crates against the wall with her shuddered audibly.

He pulled away from her with a subtle, knowing smirk on his face. Her legs gave into their weakness slowly, and she sank to the ground with him as he tore off his shirt. She struggled to catch her breath as he stood to remove his trousers and pants before returning to sit next to her on the ground.

He watched her tentatively as her eyes ran over him. She examined his wide torso, his strong arms, his solid legs, before finally allowing herself to examine what she had to pretend didn't interest her.

He studied her face as she looked at his cock. He was hard, she presumed painfully so, and the sight of him like that awoke in her a yearning like nothing she had ever felt. Her eyes lingered a long moment before returning their gaze to his face. His eyes were simultaneously vulnerable and closed-off, he was torn between hope of more and fear that their moment would end as suddenly as it began.

She straddled him as she placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him gently but insistently to lay back. It was his turn to tremble, and she felt the ripple of gooseflesh as it passed down his arms.

This time, she smirked knowingly as she took his erection in her hand. He groaned as she guided him into her.

She braced herself with her palms on his pecs as she lowered herself onto him. His hands clutched her waist as if anchoring himself in the present. His eyes were closed as she started to move her hips back and forth.

He seemed to realize gradually that he was still frozen in place. He drew his feet up to plant on the ground for leverage, and he shakily started thrusting up to her.

She swallowed as he started thrusting faster, deeper. Her eyes shut firmly as she struggled to not be overwhelmed by sensation. One of his hands crept upward to her breast and she whimpered as he for a moment grasped her too hard. His eyes flew open to examine her face and she managed a fleeting smile of reassurance.

She didn't feel her second orgasm coming until it was upon her. Her feet hooked onto his legs as her toes curled, and her hands clenched into tight fists, leaving temporary red scratches where her fingernails scraped his chest. She grunted with the impact of the pleasure, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She pressed her hips down onto him, slowing his short frantic thrusts.

As quickly as the second orgasm had hit her, it was gone. She was breathless, slow to react, and he startled her by rolling suddenly so that he was on top.

Her legs wrapped around him and she snaked her hands up under his arms to his back. Each thrust was going deeper than before, and each time he thrust into her another aftershock hit her.

He leaned down to kiss her neck, and the feel of his mouth was too much to bear. Her fingernails dug into his back sharply as she struggled to draw in a breath.

He pulled away from her suddenly, his eyes closed. His breathing was ragged, interspersed with strangled groans.

He exhaled in a rush, and she watched his climax take him. His eyes were closed, his lips parted slightly, as carnal pleasure washed over his features. His strokes became slow, deliberate, strong until his breathing evened out. He stopped, and a moment later, rolled to the side of her.

They lay there, on the floor of the closet, struggling to catch their breath. Neither of them could bear to look at the other. Panic started to grip her as she wondered where this left them, as she realized they could be caught at any time. She was acutely aware of their lightsabers on the ground and how, in seconds, either one of them could be armed.

She realized that the hand closest to her was reaching out, and she held her breath, ready to summon her own lightsaber in defense.

Instead, his hand took hers, softly, and gave it the shyest squeeze. A moment later, he let go.

She sat up, reaching for her trousers. He sat up just slightly onto his elbow and watched her as she dressed. She smoothed her clothing and her hair, and then reached down to retrieve her lightsaber. She did not let him out of her peripheral vision, even though he did not move. Her heart pounding, she reached for the door, but something stopped her.

She glanced back at him once more, still watching her from the floor, sweat still glistening on his form. For a second, when she looked into his dark brown eyes, she wanted to stay.

The moment passed, and she slid out the door, not turning from his eyes until the light of the corridor jolted her back to reality. She darted off toward her escape pod, but not before she heard the door close behind her, leaving the reminder of her weakness and his pleading brown eyes only in her memory.