She was already feeling breathless, something pooling in the pit of her stomach. Lower. That tingle between her legs that made her crave getting scratched there.

Rey didn't truly undestand the mechanics of it. She'd seen glimpses in the corners of buildings, out in some tents, in the middle of no-where for those who didn't care to find any shelter. But she always pulled her gaze quickly, too ashamed to stare in for long.

Cupping Solo's face, she leaned in to press her lips to his. That, she did know of. Thrusting her hips, she tried to seek for friction. She knew something was supposed to go in and she had explored herself with her fingers, even with the tip of her staff once. That never got her off though.

She rubbed herself against him like she had rubbed herself against the seat he was sitting on himself. One of his hands came to her chest, kneading and squeezing, pinching it even like she did on her own privacy many times before.

The silence of Luke's hut was interrupted with another soft humm and a sigh. Rey was wet in a different way now.