There's the satisfaction he was looking for. He finds it in the way Ronan submits so much more than simply willingly— proving with every breath not just that he knows he is owned, but that he wants to be. Needs to be. Here is the pleasure only he can give him.

"Who else could possess you as I do," Kylo murmurs, allowing Ronan to nuzzle softly against him in the sweet, aching space between one surging thrust and the next. How distant and foolish his earlier misjudgment feels, now. "Who else could satisfy—"

He cuts off with a low groan, surging deep, drinking in the relief threading through Ronan's pain. His teeth sink into Ronan's shoulder as his arms coil around his body. His possession. His treasure. His chosen one.