Chapter Text
When it comes to sex, Rey doesn’t play games. She doesn’t “accidentally” run into guys at places she knows they frequent or panic when a Tinder match doesn’t message her back. She’s never bent low to flash a little cleavage when struck with the sudden urge for attention, and she finds the idea of playing hard-to-get so exhausting she wants to lay down and take a nap.
And when it comes to relationships, she keeps things casual. She doesn’t have time for anything serious, hasn’t ever felt tempted to make anything official, and she’s never, ever wasted her free time thinking about a guy.
Until she met Ben Solo.
Ben with his shoulders. Biceps. Hair. Shoulders—he has two of them, after all, and they’re… right. They’re right there, visible since he’s apparently incapable of wearing sleeves to lacrosse practice.
Which, fine, she’s wearing a tank top to practice, too, but she doesn’t have the audacity to flaunt her shoulders like that...
Gripping her lacrosse stick so tight her knuckles go white, Rey watches as Jannah confronts the men’s lacrosse captain about the field schedule.
Ben’s eyes flash to Rey, his mouth taking the shape of words Rey can’t hear. And when Jannah returns to the women’s team standing around waiting for their practice to start, she says, casually, “Solo said the guys just needed another five minutes to wrap up.”
Rey wonders if she possesses the strength to snap her lacrosse stick in two.
She’s read about it online—the ability of a mother to lift a car to save her children because the spike of emotion was so high.
That’s how she feels around Ben Solo. Like she could snap a lacrosse stick with her bare hands. Or maybe his neck.
“Relax, Rey.” Jannah smiles like Rey’s ire is amusing. It isn’t amusing. It’s real and raw and burning the tips of her fingers and low in her belly and— “Solo’s right. The men’s team needs the extra time. They’ve got a big game on Sunday.”
Solo. Rey rolls her eyes. It’s like the rest of the world fails to recognize Ben has a first name, too. And boys who don’t go by their first names are walking red flags. It means no one really knows them—that they don’t let people in, or aren’t considered human enough to deserve intimate acquaintances.
When it comes to Ben Solo, Rey wouldn't be surprised to discover it’s both.
Jannah calls the girls to start passing drills on the side of the field and Rey rotates her stick instinctively with each catch and toss.
Sports have always come easily to her. Other things in life—like making friends and remembering to study for all her exams and smiling while she admits that, no, she doesn’t have anywhere to go over the holiday break—are more difficult.
But lacrosse is easy. Like breathing.
“Field’s all yours, ladies,” Snap shouts as the men’s team begins to pack up.
“So generous of you,” Kaydel snaps back, but there’s an amused lilt to her voice that suggests she isn’t actually mad.
When Ben slings his lacrosse stick over a massive shoulder and pauses in front of Rey, she feels no ounce of amusement. Kaydel can joke and Jannah can see reason, but Rey is out for blood.
“Your shoulders are tight. Don’t arch your back so much and you’ll—”
Rey whips her stick in his direction, stopping it inches from his nose. “If you enjoy having both of your testicles, you will not finish that sentence.”
He shrugs a single shoulder, like his advice is precious and he can’t be arsed wasting his breath on people who don’t fall to their knees to be on the receiving end of his attention. And then Ben twirls his stick idly on his shoulder and shakes his head.
“See you around, Johnson.”
Rey watches him go, and Kaydel cackles.
“He’s right, Rey. Your shoulders are way tense.”
She exhales, relaxing her frame and trying to release her stick from its death grip. Her hands ache and she flexes them to relieve some of the tension.
“You’re our best player, Rey,” Kaydel continues, tilting her head to one side as Rey fusses with the hem of her tank top, “but damn do you get weird around Solo.”
She doesn’t get weird around him. She hates him. There’s a difference.
……
As if being the captain of the men’s university lacrosse team wasn’t bad enough, Ben is also a member of the most obnoxious, most pretentious fraternity on campus. He’s also a mechanical engineering major and they’ve somehow managed to share a class or two every semester since freshman year.
He takes his spot a few rows down from her in their shared Differential Equations lecture. Rey straightens in her seat, glaring across the room even though he doesn’t bother glancing her way.
She knows she has to stop. That he isn’t worth this effort. She could save that energy for studying or cleaning her apartment or learning how to make those elaborate charcuterie boards she’s always liking on Instagram.
But Ben is like a loose thread on one of her worn sweaters she can’t help pick at, tugging and yanking until it unravels.
Rey’s glaring is finally interrupted by Rose flinging herself into the empty seat at her side. Shaking her head, Rey quickly retrieves the spare aluminum water bottle she’d brought from their apartment and hands it to Rose.
“Thanks, Rey, I love you.”
Rey’s mouth twitches at the words. She and Rose had been lab partners their freshman year, and when Rey had pulled out a bag of Watermelon Sour Patch Kids during one of their study sessions, Rose’s eyes had widened as she exclaimed, like it was the most casual thing in the world, “Oh my god, I love you.”
Later, Rey had to slip into the library bathroom to dry her eyes.
And it was silly—of course it was. Rose was friendly and bubbly and tossed words like love around as though they weren’t impossibilities. But no one had ever told Rey they loved her before, and three years of friendship later, there was truth in those words.
“Huh. I saw Solo and Armie earlier. They were rock climbing on the outdoor wall by the gym.” Rose flips the lid to the water bottle but doesn’t take a drink. “Solo must’ve come straight to class after.”
“What were you doing by the outdoor rock wall?”
Rose wiggles her eyebrows. “The Phi Omicron boys always climb on Wednesdays. And that wall is not the only thing I want to climb…”
“You don’t want to climb any walls.”
Rose shrugs and lifts the water bottle to her lips. “I’m just saying, Armie can get it.”
Rey doesn’t think a boy named Armie deserves to get within fifteen feet of Rose, but she isn’t one to meddle in her friends’ relationships.
“Hey, next week before class, do you wanna go climbing with me?” Rose leans back in her seat, observing Rey as she opens her laptop to take notes, even though the lecture won’t start for another five minutes. “You’re sporty and stuff.”
Rey blinks at her friend. “Sporty and stuff?”
“I just mean, I could do some climbing, maybe ask Armie a question about my form?”
Rey will not think of Ben correcting her form at yesterday’s practice. She won’t. Instead, she looks up from her laptop and tells Rose, “You don’t need Armie for that. I can make sure your form is right.”
“Rey, sometimes you have to play the game if you want to get results.”
Relationships aren’t a game. And Rose doesn’t have to lower herself to get the attention of some vapid, wealthy frat guy…
Looking across the lecture hall, she locks eyes with Ben Solo. His lips twitch to a frown while she glares at him like this is all his fault.
One of his brows lifts high, a silent What’s your problem, Johnson? from across the room.
She narrows her eyes further as if to remind him: You.
……
Coffee smells better than beer, Rey tells herself as she stands in line at a cafe near campus at seven o’clock on a Friday evening.
Rose had gone to a STEM meeting because she had a “feeling” Armie would be there, Poe and Finn are on a date, and Kaydel and Jannah along with some of the women’s lacrosse team had gone dancing, but Rey was at a cafe.
To study.
Because she needs her scholarships—athletic and academic. She can’t afford rent and tuition and food without them, and she doesn’t have a safety net to fall back on if her GPA drops too low to keep them all.
So. Yeah. Coffee smells better than beer, and even if her friends are all having fun without her, she can enjoy her evening, too. She’s going to order the sugariest drink in the largest mug they have. This is like a party, but less loud. Less work, too.
But sometimes it’s hard, knowing everyone is having fun while she’s pouring away over Differential Equations notes on a Friday night.
And because the universe is unfair, she bets even Ben Solo is doing something fun. Maybe flirting with a pretty girl. A girl he finds attractive enough to take home.
Not someone who… what had he said to his friend at that party Freshman year? Those words she’s tried so hard to block out…
“You can do better than Johnson, trust me. She isn’t worth the effort.”
“You think, Solo? I guess I could go for a piece of ass with some tits on her, too, yeah?”
“You okay, Johnson?”
His voice is near, and she knows if she turns her head just a fraction she could see him. His pale skin and the moles and his stupid, perfect mouth on his stupid, arrogant face.
Rey inhales, and over the smell of lattes being made she catches a whiff of his cologne.
So she doesn’t turn around. She just sniffs and grips the strap of her satchel tighter.
“I’m fine. Why are you here?”
“It’s a coffee shop. I’m pretty sure it’s open to the public. I’m allowed to be here.”
She turns to face him, and looks up, up… Rey is tall for a girl, her height comes in handy on the lacrosse field and when Rose needs her to get something on a high shelf. And yet, somehow, Ben Solo makes her feel small.
She hates it most of the time. Even if sometimes she doesn’t.
“I just mean, it’s a Friday night. Shouldn’t you be doing keg stands and flexing at girls and… I don’t know, what else do frat guys do with their weekends?”
His mouth twitches, just a fraction, but it’s like he’s stamping down the urge to smile at her.
“I have a Differential Equations exam Monday.”
“It’s Friday night.”
“There’s a party tomorrow, and a game Sunday.” He shrugs, and she nods, feeling strange as she turns back around to face the barista who looks even less excited to be there on a Friday evening than Rey.
She orders a large white chocolate mocha with extra whip, and then grins at Ben.
“What are you having?”
He blinks, eyes tracking across her features as her smile stretches wider.
“Oh— Ah, uh, a large Americano.”
Rey rolls her eyes. He’s so predictable.
Ben looks at her, again, like he doesn’t quite know what to do, and then she winks and takes a step back.
“Thanks for the coffee, Ben. I really appreciate it.”
Rey settles into a small table shoved between the wall and a window. The coffee shop isn’t full, but there are a handful of students crouched over textbooks and typing away on their laptops. When Ben sets her coffee down in front of her, she swipes her finger across the fat dollop of whipped cream on top and pops it in her mouth.
“Here’s your… I’m not convinced there’s actually any coffee in that,” Ben says. He places his bag on top of an empty table nearby, and Rey takes a sip of her latte. It’s warm and sweet and delicious. She takes a second sip and realizes Ben hadn’t even complained that she’d made him pay for it.
Rey yanks her computer out of her bag and stares at her reflection on the screen. She can see the pucker of skin between her brows. Huh. She was kind of expecting him to fight her a bit.
She opens her notes and bites her tongue each time she has a question, because sure, Ben might be in her class but she isn’t going to rely on him.
And ever so often, when she feels his eyes on her, Rey shifts in her seat, determined not to look at him.
Because she hates Ben Solo.
She thinks.
…….
Despite her better judgment, Rey ends up in the crowded backyard of the Phi Omicron house on Saturday night.
She’s here because Rose wants to fuck Armie. And she’s a good friend. The best.
And now that Rose has found Armie, Rey’s pretty sure she can leave. Her “sure” to Kaydel’s earlier invitation to play beer pong was casual. Kay won’t mind if Rey slips out early. Nobody will mind, really. She could go home, change into sweats, play the new Assassin’s Creed DLC…
Instead, she smiles at a guy in a button down and orange chino shorts. He’s wearing a baseball cap even though the party is at night and there’s no sun blaring down on his head.
But he’s kind of cute, Rey supposes, and if she’s going to be stuck here…
The guy nods at her and then quickly ducks away, disappearing into the house and leaving Rey standing there, clutching her plastic cup of tepid beer and feeling like an idiot.
She looks down at her dress, making sure nothing embarrassing’s happened since the last time she saw a mirror. She subtly wipes her face. When she’s positive her night can’t get any worse, she turns and spots Ben Solo sitting around the bonfire chatting with a pretty girl who is laughing and tossing her mermaid hair over her shoulders.
One of Rey’s hands tightens around the cup until it cracks. The other digs half-moons into the meat of her palm.
She’s still staring at him when he looks her way. His eyes widen, and he jumps to his feet, practically sprinting in her direction.
Rey releases her hold on the cup, frowning as a trickle of beer slides down her wrist and arm from the puncture.
Ben stops in front of her. His shorts make his thighs look massive. His poor shirt buttons look as though they’re holding on for dear life.
“You’re here,” he says in lieu of a greeting. Some of his dark hair curls around his neck, and Rey’s fingers twitch with the urge to brush it back.
“My roommate is hooking up with you friend.”
“My friend?”
“Or whatever you consider the people you surround yourself with. He lives here, in this stupidly pretentious house with you.”
“Which one?”
“Uh, he walked Rose back to our apartment last night… Kind of surly, carries himself like he has a trust fund, red hair.”
“Hux.”
“No. His name was pompous.”
“Armitage.”
“That’s the one.”
In the distance, there’s a crash followed by cheering. Ben doesn’t look away from her. “His last name’s Hux.”
“Oh. Naturally.”
“What’s that mean?”
Rey grins. “Nothing, Solo.”
“You don’t call me that.” He takes a step closer. Ben is unfairly tall, and Rey has to crane her neck to look up at him. “You call me Ben.”
“Why are you talking to me? You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“You antagonize the women’s lacrosse team, glare at me across every lecture hall we’ve ever shared. You’ve never had a nice thing to say about me or to me—”
“Do you want me to say nice things to you?” he asks, and there’s a shadow of a smile pulling at his mouth. It makes her stomach feel strange. Or maybe that’s the lukewarm beer.
Either way, Rey falters a bit when she replies, “I want you to leave me alone.”
“Do you?” He inclines his head, watching as she narrows her eyes and purses her lips. “Ah, you do.”
Rey looks away from him. The girl with the mermaid hair is chatting to someone else now. Someone with shorts who are probably just as short as Ben’s. Rey watches them for a moment, sipping her beer.
“It’s your fault nobody here will fuck me tonight, you know.”
When she looks at Ben again, he’s frowning at her.
“I tried to make out with Snap at a party last year, but he said the whole team thought I was quote-unquote off limits. That I was somehow yours.”
Ben’s features don’t budge. He doesn’t look guilty or annoyed or even amused. “I didn't tell him that.”
“I know you didn’t. I heard you. Before.”
“Heard me say what?”
“Two years ago, I came to a party here.” She gestures around them. At the crowded bonfire and the makeshift dance floor and the beer pong table set up on the grass.
Ben stares at her. She thinks maybe he doesn’t even remember that night.
So she says, “I flirted with you.”
“You were drunk.”
“You flirted back.”
“I did.”
“I came back for my jacket and I heard you tell Mitaka not to bother with me. You said, what was it, that I ‘wasn’t worth the effort.’”
Ben looks like he’s suffering. Which is good. He should suffer.
“You told him he could do better.”
“Rey…”
“And when he said he could probably find a piece of ass with some tits, you laughed.”
Ben’s silent for a long time, and Rey takes another sip from what’s left of her beer. She should have left the moment Rose found Armie. She could be in her sweats by now, playing video games, not standing here, reminding herself that Ben Solo isn’t worth her tears.
“I was an idiot,” he says, his voice low and deep.
“Am an idiot.”
“Am an idiot,” he agrees quickly.
“Well, this has been fun, but I’m going to play beer pong now.”
Before she can step away, his hand is on her hip. It’s warm through the material of her dress, and Rey’s eyes drop to her waist. Just staring at the way his fingers look against her body.
“You have to know…” he says.
“Know what?”
“I was—am jealous of those guys.”
“What guys?”
“I didn’t want Snap or Mitaka to fuck you. I don’t want anyone to fuck you.”
She frowns at him, opening her mouth to speak, but he beats her to it.
“Just me.”
His hand is still on her, thumb moving in small circles over her hip.
“I told my team you were off limits. And the frat. I might’ve glared a bit at a guy who sat too close once in class. And I would’ve hunted down all your Tinder dates, if I could have.”
Rey blinks. “You’re insane.”
He smiles. Like he already knows.
But Rey’s mind is spinning. “And what was your plan? You thought, what, that I’d eventually be so horny from everyone staying away that I’d…”
“Didn’t really have a plan. Just didn’t want them thinking they could have you.”
She’s silent for a moment, clutching her empty cup close to her heart. “What if I didn’t want any of them anyway?”
His hand shifts higher, spanning her waist.
“Tell me what you want, Rey.”
This is bad. It’s good, so good, but also bad. Because it would be so easy to tell Ben Solo what she wants—but Rey doesn’t do this. She does casual. Uncomplicated. She doesn’t allow anyone to get too close, and she knows if she tells Ben Solo how much she wants him, he’d have too much power over her. He could shatter her, and Rey doesn’t like feeling breakable.
So instead, she looks up and meets his eyes and says, injecting as much strength into her tone as she can manage, “I want to play beer pong.”
He lets go of her hip and she walks away. She tosses her empty cup in the closest bin and finds Kaydel and Jannah beating a pair of frat guys at beer pong.
Rose is there, too, and she tosses her arms around Rey’s shoulders and they both laugh. Rey tries to focus on this—the joy in Rose’s smile, the cheers of Kaydel and Jannah as they win. Anything but remembering the feel of Ben’s hand on her hip. Of him saying that he ran guys away because he… wanted her? For years?
No. It was insane. And she was insane for the urge to look for him in the crowd.
So instead, she agrees to partner with Rose to play against Kaydel and Jannah.
And just like lacrosse, beer pong is easy. She can aim and line up shot after shot, barely ever missing.
Kaydel grumbles as she drinks the last of her beer, telling Jannah to remind her next time that Rey is amazing at this shit.
Poe and Finn take their spot as one of the Phi Omicron boys pours beer into another set of empty cups.
Rey can hardly manage a smile, even as Rose laughs when Rey sinks four balls in a row to end the game.
When Ben and Hux step up to the table, Rey frowns at him.
He’s good. She knows because she’s watched him play before. But she’s better.
Hux and Rose flirt a bit across the table, but Rey takes it seriously. She wants to crush him. Wants to make him feel small and insignificant, because even if he whispers stupid things like he doesn’t want anyone else to have her, he’s never… She glares at him, trying to remember a single time he’s ever given her a sign he was interested.
His friend had insulted her, and he’d laughed.
She sinks the final ball and the crowd cheers, but she knows her turn is over when Rose steps away to press a consolation kiss against Hux’s mouth.
Rey slips away from the table and walks inside the house. She’s only had a single beer all night, and if she’s sticking around, she needs to change that. However, Ben steps in front of her before she can make it to the keg.
“I didn’t think I’d wear down your defenses so you’d eventually fuck me. Rey, you’re… You’d never break. I know that. I’ve always known that.”
His hand moves back to her hip, and Rey decides to touch him, too. She presses her palm against his white button down. His abdomen flexes beneath her touch, and she bites her lip.
She’s seen him shirtless at lacrosse practice plenty of times. She’s pictured him shirtless with her vibrator shoved inside her cunt while she pretends to ride him on more occasions than she’d like to admit.
But for some reason, she’s never actually pictured herself touching him. Not like this.
And maybe the music is on this side of too loud, and there are a few too many bodies in the living room, but he’s staring down at her with his lips parted and his eyes dark, and… Yeah. Maybe all the energy she’s put into hating Ben Solo was always going to lead to this.
Rey lifts onto her toes and slants her mouth against his. Ben grunts in surprise, and then his hand tightens around her hip and he’s kissing her back. His lips are careful, almost gentle against hers. But Rey doesn’t want careful or gentle. Not now, not with Ben. She fists the fabric of his shirt in her hand and yanks him closer. She deepens the kiss, and Ben’s tongue is rough in her mouth, his teeth tugging at her lower lip and his hands moving to palm her ass.
He groans when she pulls away, pupils blown wide as he tracks her features.
“Rey…”
“You don’t think I’m just a piece of ass with no tits?”
He shakes his head, fingers skating up the ladder of her ribs toward her chest. “I love these tits. Think about them every time I get off.”
“I like it when you say nice things to me…”
He chuckles, touching her hair, fingers grazing her ear. “So needy.”
Rey hums in agreement. They’re in a room full of people, but she doesn’t care as he pushes her against the wall. Her hands trace the outline of his cock through his shorts, and fuck, he’s huge.
She shouldn’t be surprised, but still… Her thumb moves along the seam of his shorts and he grunts against her ear.
“You’re so perfect, Rey. Too good for me… Such a good girl.”
“I’m not sure good girls like being held by their throats while they’re stuffed with cock.”
His fingers spasm against her ribs. “Fuck, Rey.”
She stares up at him, smiling when she asks, “Do you want to…?”
“Yes.”
They move up the stairs, her hand in his, and the moment they’re inside his room, Ben slams the door shut and presses her against it.
“Wanted this since the moment I saw you.” His body crowds her, and his hands are everywhere, like he can’t decide where he wants to touch most. But Rey knows, grasping the shoulders she’s always wanted to sample for herself. “Never wanted anything like I want you…”
Ben pulls her dress over her head, leaving her in nothing but a black bralette and lacy thong. It isn’t a particularly elaborate set, but she’s glad it’s matching. And the way Ben is staring at her nipples through the lace makes her shiver.
His hands go around her back, searching for a clasp, and Rey laughs as he struggles with the fabric.
“It’s one piece, it— You pull it up over your head. Here, like this…”
But before she can awkwardly yank the bralette over her head, Ben hooks his thumb between the thin bit of lace between her breasts and tears the fabric in half.
Rey gasps, staring down at the bra now hanging awkwardly from her shoulders.
“I’ll buy you another one,” Ben promises, staring at her chest. “Or you can just stop wearing bras entirely.”
Rey laughs and then he dips his head and his mouth is on her nipple and fuck.
He rolls a nipple between his lips, sucking gently and letting it pop free of his soft lips with an audible smack. Then his hand moves to her other breast, palming it roughly, squeezing until Rey hisses between her teeth.
“I’m sorry you thought I didn’t want you.” He sucks a bruise on the underside of her left breast. “Sorry I’m a jealous bastard who didn’t want anyone else looking at what wasn’t even mine.”
She laughs as he kisses a path up her throat to her jaw, gasping when his fingers push beneath the lace of her underwear, dipping between her folds and gathering her slick.
He presses a finger inside, and she groans.
“Fuck Ben. Your fingers are huge. I think one of yours is equal to, like, three of mine.”
“Mm. Do you fuck yourself with three fingers, Rey, wishing it was one of mine?”
“Yes,” she whispers, drunk not on alcohol but on the feel of Ben. “I always pretend it’s you.”
He stills for a moment, mouth and hands frozen in place before a groan tears from his throat.
“When you play lacrosse, your hair gets all sweaty here,” he says, pushing a damp lock away from her brow. “When you argue with me in class, your cheeks get flushed.” His lips press a chaste kiss to her cheekbone. “When you force me to buy you coffee, instead of saying thank you, you bare your teeth. And every time, all I can think about is fucking you.”
He drops to his knees and Rey is grateful for the solid door at her back.
“You’re so fucking lovely, Rey.” His thumbs hook into the waistband of her underwear, tugging them down her thighs. “Dreamed of this…”
And then, his mouth is on her. One of his large, warm fingers pumping deeper than she can reach herself, while he licks her clit, sucking until she doesn’t recognize the whine tearing from her throat as her own.
Rey comes on his face. She shivers while he continues to suck and finger her, until she’s pushing him away and panting against his door.
When Ben stands, his tongue darts out, licking his plush, lower lip clean.
Rey grins at him—her smile quickly giving way to a yelp as Ben picks her up by her waist and dumps her on his bed in a single motion. She blinks at his ceiling, still coming down from the high of her orgasm while she listens to the sound of a condom package ripping open.
Rey rolls onto her belly and moves to her hands and knees, and when she feels one of Ben’s impossibly large hands rounding the curve of her ass, she smiles at him from over her shoulder.
He pushes inside her in a single thrust, stretching her as she holds her breath.
Ben is huge. And he’s deep. And as he fucks her, he talks.
Rey wants to roll her eyes. Of course Ben Solo can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.
She bites her lower lip as he tells her how perfect and pretty she is. Rey doesn’t receive a lot of praise daily, and the handful of hookups she’s had in the past didn’t know her well enough to say the things Ben is saying, so she was unaware that she has a kink for it.
But with each thrust of his hips, with each slap of his balls against her clit, and with each praise grunted in Ben’s low voice, she’s driven closer and closer toward something she’s positive she hasn’t felt before.
“You were made to take my cock.”
The angle changes and he touches the spot that has her seeing white.
“Fuck fuck fuck, Ben.”
“Yeah? You gonna come like this? On your knees, being filled with my cock?”
“Love your cock, Ben. You feel so good.”
He kisses the divots of her spine, leaving ten fingerprint bruises on the skin of her hips while his cock slides against the spot again. Once, twice–
“Want you to come. Want to feel it—”
She does. As she moans and shivers, he has to hold her upright as he fucks her through her orgasm.
“So perfect. Knew you’d be perfect. Knew you’d take me so well,” he says, his pace turning frantic as his hips slap against her backside. He comes with a grunt, and Rey looks over her shoulder to watch his face contorted in pleasure.
She wants to memorize it, to memorize the way he feels buried deep inside her. The way his breath pants heavy against her skin and the way his hands grip her hip like she’s the only thing tethering him to this world.
When he pulls out, Rey whimpers from the loss of him.
Ben chuckles and releases her hips. Rey falls onto his comforter, listening to the unsexy sound of the condom dropping into a waste basket. She pants, cheeks pressed against a blanket that smells like him, and then he’s beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss into her shoulder.
She rolls onto her side and smiles, pushing some of the damp hair back from his face because she can.
He smiles back. Crooked teeth and that damn dimple that makes her want to cry.
“Your ego really doesn’t need to hear this,” she whispers. “But that was the best orgasm of my life.”
His smile widens. She’s never leaving his bed with his perfect cock and hair and smile.
“I’m on birth control. If next time you want to, y’know…”
Rey doesn’t play games. She doesn’t think this is a one-time thing for him, not with the way he talked while he fucked her, but… well, she isn’t going to leave here and worry about if he’ll text her or if she should smile at him in class or pretend this never happened.
His eyes go wide. “Next time. Yeah.”
“If you want.”
He chuckles. “Rey, it’s all I’ve wanted from the first time you pointed your lacrosse stick at me and told me to shove it.”
She smiles into his stupidly broad, perfect chest.
His lips press into her hair. “Come to my game tomorrow.”
She pulls away slightly so she can look at him. “Yeah?”
“Wear my jersey.”
She laughs. “Only if you wear mine to my next game…”
“I want to. So much. I want to watch you play and know you’re mine.”
“Ben.”
“Hm?” he hums, kissing her nose.
She doesn’t have anything to say. She just likes saying his name.