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Little Vices

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This place is so fucking disgusting.

Crushed beer cans thrown in the corners, mystery puddles on the floor. The smell of weed clinging to every surface.

Rey can’t believe she let Rose drag her out and to a frat party no less.

“It’ll be fun,” Rose said, “You could use some fun.”

Truth be told, Rey could use some fun. She could use a lot of things. Like a job that doesn’t require her to work doubles six days a week, parents that not only existed but had saved for her to attend college, a lighter course load.

A friend that didn’t shove a lukewarm beer in her hands and disappear five minutes into a party she didn’t want to be at.

Still, she’s here and she can’t leave Rose. Even if she might want to.

The beer would be shit even if it were cold, but it is what it is. The music isn’t bad. Too loud for her taste, but a good blend of hits. Stuff drunk kids her age like to dance to.

She wanders around for a while, sticking close to the wall, avoiding conversations.

The kitchen is surprisingly clean and empty but the fridge is fully stocked with slightly better options than those carelessly thrown into a kiddie pool of ice downstairs. She pulls one from the back, the glass bottle ice cold against her palm. There's a bottle opener tied to the handle on the door because, of course there is.

It goes down smooth. A little bitter but so good it makes her toes curl, her eyes close when she takes another sip.

Rey’s not a party person. She likes hanging out with her friends. Sure, she’s been known to enjoy a night out, maybe a little dancing when she’s a few drinks in. But she much prefers a quieter atmosphere. Maybe sitting in a rocking chair on someone's porch, music quietly playing from an open window, conversations had without shouting.

“I think I’ve got a leftover burger from lunch on the top shelf, if you’d like to steal my food too, Johnson.” A velvet smooth voice booms from behind her, dripping in sarcasm.

It takes her by surprise. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching. Standing up straight she turns and finds Ben Solo.

They had calculus together a few semesters back, he’d sat beside her and mumbled about how useless the professor was throughout every class. He never missed a class though, always showed up a few minutes early, sipping coffee and eating a protein bar. He made her smile with his snarky sense of humor and she’d been downright disappointed when the semester ended.

She shouldn’t be shocked to see him. She knows he’s in a fraternity with Hux. And Rose has been crazy about Armie for months, even if she insists it’s casual.

So of course she should have expected to see him here, in his home, or whatever. She just wasn’t prepared to interact with him or to be accused of stealing.

“I’m sorry, what,” she asks, wiping a few drops of beer from her mouth with the back of her hand.

He narrows his eyes and steps closer, blocking out more of the sound from outside the door.

He’s not your average frat guy, a little preppy but she’s pretty sure you wouldn’t catch him dead in pastels or even a polo. His standard dark button up is navy blue tonight, undone down to his navel and splattered with what she hopes is beer and sweat.

The shorts he’s wearing are just that, short. Showing off a near scandalizing amount of thigh.

Ben wears it all with confidence, from the rumbled too-long-hair, right down to the stupid Cole Haan loafers—sans socks—covering feet so large they make her cheeks flush.

Stepping past her he tugs open the fridge and leans inside. “I said, if you’re gonna help yourself to my beer, you might as well take anything else of mine you want.” His voice is muffled but clearly amused.

She had no way of knowing she was stealing from him, it's not like his name was on the bottle in her hand. And this is a frat party, are there rules she doesn’t know about? She just sort of assumed nothing was off limits.

The beer in the fridge clicks together when he closes the door with his hip and Ben flips the top off with a little flourish before bringing the lip of amber glass to his luscious mouth.

She tries not to get lost in the movement of his throat, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple with every deep pull from the bottle.

She fails spectacularly.

There's a glint of something in his dark honeyed eyes while he stares her down and she knows she’s been caught.

They’ve only been around each other a few times outside of class. Once he’d shared a table with her in the library during finals. They were in a group at a bar for Poe’s birthday last month. Mostly they say hi when they pass each other in the parking lots on campus.

But she’s had a thing for him since the first time they met and he’s always had this flirty energy that does something to her.

It makes her feel bold.

“I can pay you for it, if you’d like,” she tells him, with a confidence she decidedly does not have.

Lifting her chin she angles herself a little more towards him and takes a long sip. The crisp notes explode on her tongue, flooding her brain and she has no idea what she’s doing but she hopes she’s not making an ass out of herself.

A sly smile pulls at the corners of his full lips as he studies her.

“I don’t want your money, Rey,” he whispers, stepping a little closer.

Her heart flutters in her chest and she swears for a minute she can hear her own breathing over the low thump of music from downstairs. She clears her throat which isn’t sexy or smooth, but better than choking on her own words. “Good, because I don’t have a dime to pay you with anyway.”

Ben chuckles and taps the necks of their bottles together, a gentle clink that she feels low in her belly. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

He’s close, so close.

Rey wants nothing more than for him to close the distance between them.

She’s not his type, she’s sure, he probably makes loud speeches about GDI’s and enjoys feeling vastly superior to others, but he’s beautiful and just once, she’d like to know what those lips taste like.

He doesn’t kiss her, only grabs her wrist and wordlessly leads her out of the room.

“What are y—” she starts to ask but he threads his fingers between hers, flashes her a smile over his shoulder and she—the words die right there on her tongue.

They pass people as he snakes them through the house; guys who scream Solo and groups of girls who croon hello’s. He nods to everyone, even says ladies to a few of the girls and Rey rolls her eyes at how cliche it all is. But he keeps squeezing her hand and she’s getting high off his attention.

The music on the lowest floor has somehow only gotten louder since she ventured upstairs, rattling the empty liquor bottles that line the ceiling.

There's a crowd of bodies in the center of the room, they part for him as he tugs her to the middle.

Stopping to face her with a wicked grin, he slides the hand holding hers up to place it at the back of his neck. When he’s satisfied, he wraps his fingers around her waist, forcing her closer into his space.

He keeps the beer in his other hand loose at his side when he starts to sway and she does the same, not wanting to smack him in the back of the head or spill any down his shirt.

Ben’s tall making her stand at her full height to hold on as he moves them back and forth, using his hand at her back to show her how to rock her hips along with his.

“This okay,” he asks, whispering into her ear. He’s barely had to dip his head and she realizes that she could turn and kiss him, right here on this packed makeshift dance floor.

She won't, but she could and she thinks he would let her.

Instead, she nods and melts a little when he pulls away smiling.

Rey doesn’t really dance, sometimes in her room or with Rose if they’ve had a little too much wine. But never like this. With a man that keeps grinning at her and holding her possessively. His thigh sliding between hers so he can pull her impossibly closer until she can feel him through his shorts. Not fully hard, but clearly aware of what they’re doing.

His eyes stay locked on hers and it's enough to make her blush. Forcing her to take a sip of her beer just so she can look away and catch her breath.

It helps.

Helps until he slips his hand under the hem of her shirt, splaying it against her spine and tucking the tip of his pinky into the waistband of her jeans.

She shudders and he feels it.

There's no way to hide her reaction with his skin on her skin, his chest touching her chest, his thigh between her thighs.

Maybe that’s what he was going for. Maybe he’s just trying to get a reaction.

But his eyes look sincere and full of longing.

She thinks she might feel him twitch a little beneath his cotton shorts.

“I’m glad you came out tonight.” His voice is so low and so close, she wishes it would drown out the music.

Rey leans forward a little, so she won't have to shout. Not at all to feel his length graze her thigh or his fingers dig into her skin. “Me too,” she rasps out.

The crowd around them sways in time with the music, people laughing and shouting the words.

It’s hot down here, even with the french doors open onto the patio and a series of box fans placed around the room she still feels overheated.

Ben’s open shirt makes a lot more sense and for a second she wishes she’d worn a dress like Rose suggested. Although, his hand wouldn’t be touching her back right now if she had.

Something else maybe? Her bare thigh. The curve of her ass.

There's a bead of sweat at the hollow of his throat and she watches in awe when it pools and runs down his exposed chest. The desire to lick it off is almost too much to resist, so she doesn’t stop the hand holding her beer from rising. Doesn’t fight the need to trace the path of salt with the gentle tip of her finger down, down, down until she reaches the buttons of his shirt. Doesn’t miss the way his throat bobs around a thick swallow when she does.

His eyes are dark, lids heavy when she glances back up at him. She goes to move her hand from his chest but just as quickly he’s trapping it against the warmth of his skin, beer bottle and all with a thick forearm over hers, eyeing her curiously. “No, leave it.”

He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and she inhales sharply at the images that tiny bit of pink flesh invoke. She can’t stop staring at his mouth and she wonders what he might be looking at.

“Rey,” he says. Only it sounds like a question, making her peek at him through her lashes and nod her head in agreement at what she finds in his eyes.

Whatever he wants. She’ll gladly give him whatever he fucking wants.

He’s ducking his head and she won’t slide her eyes close, won’t miss the moment his lips touch hers because she’s not sure this is real no matter what her body feels.

His lips are as soft and yielding as she imagined, she opens happily when he licks her bottom lip, eager for a taste.

His mouth is cool from the beer, sweet with mint from gum he’s always chewing, with just a hint of the cigarettes she’s spotted in the pocket of his shirt.

Nothing has ever been better and she’s heard people complain about this particular combination in the past, but she thinks they must be out of their damn mind.

It’s heady, nearly knocking her off her feet at every swipe of his tongue against hers. The world begins and ends with the taste of him and she could die happy now, knowing she got at least this.

When he breaks the kiss, she half expects that to be it. She got her taste, question answered. But he’s smiling at her and her chest blooms with something unexpected.

He presses his forehead into hers and whispers, just loud enough for her to hear over the music, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”

But she does, so she tells him and then he kisses her again and she has only had a beer and a half but her head is spinning.

They kiss for what feels like ages and it could be the next song or four later but he eventually pulls back and asks if she would like some air. Rey nods and is pleased beyond belief when he wraps his hand around hers again and leads her up the stairs.

It’s significantly cooler and thankfully less crowded on the first floor. They stop in the kitchen, Ben taking her now empty bottle to throw away before grabbing two more from the fridge. Never letting go of her hand.

They climb another flight of stairs to a floor she hasn’t been to yet. He’s so calm and it's frustrating how hard she has to work to keep her mouth from begging him to move faster.

At the end of a long hall, lined with framed pictures of all his brothers in blue jackets, Ben opens a door and waves her inside.

His room is clean. Small, but tidy and the sight of a made bed in a college boys room nearly sends her into a fit of giggles.

It’s bare boned and she’s willing to bet there is no top sheet on his bed nor will she let herself think about the last time he most likely washed—well, anything. She’s just so happy it’s not a dorm room setup with bunk beds or those tiny twins she hopes to never lay eyes on again.

Rey stands off to the side.

Waiting.

Not sure what to do because he asked if she wanted air and she assumed—hoped—they’d eventually make it to his room, but she could actually really use a minute to catch her breath.

Relief rushes through her when Ben opens a set of double doors revealing a tiny balcony just beyond.

A pair of dark rocking chairs and a small table between them. A white lighter peeking out from a pack of Marlboro lights. An empty beer bottle on the ground stuffed full of crumpled cigarette butts.

It’s cozy and seems mostly hidden from the ground below.

Ben sits in one of the chairs and she makes her way to do the same before a hand at the waist stops her.

He pulls her down into his lap.

It's a tight fit, just this side of not-quite comfortable but she finds she doesn’t mind when one of his hands slides around her waist and the other up into her hair.

She’s on fire but the air outside is cool when he kisses her again.

It’s better somehow up here, away from everyone. In the quiet, in the dark. She can focus more on Ben and the way it feels to have his hands on her skin, his tongue licking sweetly into her mouth.

Up here, with her body draped across his, she can smell the hint of sweat on his skin, the lingering spice of cologne blending with the beer spilt on his shirt.

Up here, alone with him, she lets her hands wander, weaving one into the hair at the base of his neck while the other slips between the parted fabric at his chest to press against his skin.

He moans at the contact.

She’s emboldened by it.

Her fingers trail across his mostly smooth chest, his skin is blazing hot and the muscles beneath hard.

Every part of her is aching to the damn shirt entirely so she can see him in the moonlight.

He’s so wide, his skin so pale and now she’s felt what he keeps hidden beneath these ridiculous dark dress shirts. She wants to mark him with her teeth, bets a pattern of purple bruises across his chest and stomach would be just about the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

He seems to have the same idea with the way he’s holding her firmly at the hip. So tight she knows there's no way she’s leaving without a lastling reminder of all the places his hands have been.

When he tugs at the hem of her shirt she sits back without question so he can tug it up and over her head.

The chair rocks with their shifting bodies, making them both laugh. “That might be handy later.” His voice has gone all husky, his eyes solely focused on what's hidden beneath the lace of her bra and she doesn’t really know how that would work, but fuck if she isn’t willing to try.

The normal volume of his voice seems so loud away from the party. “Beautiful.”

Like it’s an obvious fact. Not something to be argued with.

He cradles her head in one hand and runs the other over her ribs, studying her for a minute.

She’s on display for him with the moonlight overhead and the occasional cheer from a party goer downstairs.

The railing is thick, no one could see her like this and she’s fairly certain with the way he’s looking at her, he wouldn’t have her out here if there was even a possibility she could be seen.

When he lowers his head to kiss a freckle over her heart she nearly comes undone.

He’s teasing kisses along the top of each breast turning her breath into a shaky sputtering mess.

He flicks his tongue against a taut nipple, making her clutch his hair to keep him close. Begging for more. Insisting he isn’t done there, yet.

His cock twitches beneath her ass and she shamelessly grinds down against him. The groan that leaves his throat forces a smile to her lips and heat to her cheeks.

Never in her life can she remember wanting someone more than she does right now.

Hot kisses guide his path across her chest. This time, he uses one blunt finger to curl inside the lace and tug it down below the curve of her breast before latching on and sucking her nipple into his waiting mouth.

“Ben,” she gasps. So overwhelmed by the feel of him there, she barely notices his hand moving until the back of his finger runs up the seam of her jeans, making her jump at the touch.

He pulls back instantly. Eyeing her, worried he overstepped. “Rey, if you want to stop—”

“No!” She’s shaking her head and scrambling to bring him back down to her.

Why is there so much space between them, she’s fucking cold, one wet nipple open to the air, his chest too many inches away.

“No,” he asks, halting her with a hand to her stomach.

“I mean, no. Don’t stop,” she corrects herself. “Keep—keep going I don’t want to stop. Please, keep going.”

“Okay,” he grins. “Okay.” He nods and then he’s kissing her and she’s grinding, opening her legs and praying he’ll touch her again.

It doesn’t take long and she’s rewarded for her brazenly wanton display. He cups her with one large hand and rubs his palm into her clit. Making her moan into his mouth.

He swallows it down hungrily, encouraging her to rock against his hand. “Fuck, Rey. You’re so fucking hot here.”

Rey arches her back in response, giving him space to lick the curve of her neck. He lingers at her collarbone, sucking the thick skin there between his teeth.

Bruising her.

Marking her.

Right there where anyone can see.

“Are you wet here too, sweetheart?”

“Ben.” It’s not a reply but a confession.

Of course she’s wet. He’s here. She can’t think of a single time he hasn’t had that effect on her body.

His mouth is pure sin, she wants to die like this. With his lips at her ear and his hand cupping her firmly. “If I unzip these jeans and slip my fingers inside, will you be wet for me, Rey?”

She swallows around a cry. “Yes. Yes! Fuck. Ben, please.”

Quick fingers work the button open, the zipper down before he’s sliding beneath the elastic of her underwear. Blunt fingertips spread her open, drag over her clit with the most delicious pressure. He finds her soaked and sticky with desire for him.

All for him.

She whispers it, or he can hear her fucking thoughts because he murmurs against her hair. “Mine? Really, sweetheart? Is this all for me?”

Oh, god. She’s not much for pet names, an old boyfriend called her baby once and it weirded her out.

But sweetheart.

Fuck.

He can keep calling her sweetheart all he wants.

It’s all she can do to nod in agreement, so past the point of talking when he dips a finger inside, stretching her slightly, teasing.

Soft curses are muffled against her throat when he pumps in a little further. Her jeans not offering him much space, but keeping his palm firmly pressed against her clit.

Every rock of his finger sends another burning jolt of pleasure up her spine.

“Wanna taste you, please.” His breath is shaky, voice rough and gravely.

The word won’t come fast enough. She ends up shouting too loud but too wrapped up in wanting to care. “Yes!”

Ben removes his hand and she whines, not concerned with if it's desperate or embarrassing.

“Stand up for me.”

On shaky legs she lets him help her to her feet.

Watches him lick and nip at the skin he exposed.

He tugs her jeans and underwear down her thighs in one swift pull.

Rey reaches behind her to undo her bra and tosses it through the open door to his room.

She shivers from the cold, moved out of his lap, body bared for his eyes.

Ben notices the tremor and takes to rubbing her sides in an effort to warm her up.

Turns out, nothing warms her like his tongue splitting her open.

“Fuck. Ben,” she whines.

Because, fuck! He’s barely touched her and she’s ready to shatter to pieces.

“God, Rey. You taste—” he pants before swirling his tongue over her clit. “So fucking good.”

She bucks her hips seeking more.

Ben takes the hint, silencing his praise in favor of bringing her closer.

He works her over, with firm passes of his tongue and sweet suction between those goddamn lips. Teasing her right up against her release but not pushing her over time and time again until she can hardly stand it.

Her knees buckle with one particularly hard lick and but he holds her up, eyes on her twisted face when he slides two thick fingers inside and crooks them just right.

She’s falling.

Crying out her release when he sucks and thrusts and—

It’s not enough.

His hand on her hip, her fingers digging into his shoulders, it’s not enough to keep her standing through the waves of pleasure Ben's tongue and fingers demand of her body.

She collapses on top of him with her jeans still tangled around her shins and his fingers shoved firmly inside her fluttering cunt.

“Jesus, Rey. Are you alright?” He’s scrambling to help her, to check on her and all she can do is laugh.

Alright. Is she alright?

He slides her into a more comfortable position in his lap while she giggles. “You just devoured me until my legs gave out, what do you think?”

The moon is hidden behind a few clouds making it harder to see his face but she thinks he blushes just a little and if that isn’t the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

All she wants to do is kiss him, well, that’s not all. He’s fully hard beneath and she fully intends to do something about that in a minute.

But first, she leans in and presses her lips to his, tasting herself on him.

Feeling another flash of heat through her veins when his warm fingers wet with her slide along her thigh, reaching around to cup her ass.

It takes him only a second or two to help her slip out of her shoes and then drag her jeans and soaked underwear off her legs.

Ben stands, still holding her to his chest and she’s too drunk on the way he’s kissing her to worry about being seen like this, fully naked and dripping wet.

He lays her out on the bed before standing to remove his own clothes and she watches with unwavering attention when he undoes the last two buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off his shoulders.

The shorts go next.

And then he’s standing there in only a pair of tiny red boxer briefs that she almost hates to see leave.

She’ll definitely be bringing those up again later, might even wear them around if he’ll let her.

Ben Solo, a man of such narrow color preferences in tiny red shorts. God, she simply must know what his underwear drawer looks like now.

The moment he slides them off his hips she can’t remember ever wanting anything but this. Him naked and proud in front of her.

His cock, nearly purple at the head, smearing precum over his lower belly when he pumps it lazily in his fist makes her mouth water. She sits up, reaching for him, licking her lips and aching to slide him against her tongue. Another part of him to taste, another bit to commit to memory. He removes his hand, letting her trail her finger tips over him, running the pad of her thumb along the vein that pulses needly down his length.

With parted lips she slides the tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue in a gentle tease.

His hips stutter and before she can sink down further he’s saying her name and telling her he can’t. “I’m too fucking close as it is. Watching you fall apart like that. Fucking you with my tongue and my fingers out there in the open. If you start this, there’s no way I’ll be able to fuck you. And it’s all I can think about, Rey.”

It’s not what she wants, to deny him the opportunity to fuck her. So, she pulls away pumping him a few times like she watched him do while he reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a foil packet.

He rips it open with his teeth and starts talking as he rolls it down his length. “I haven’t been with anyone since the last time I was tested and it was all clear, but just to be safe.”

“Me too,” she tells him when he starts crawling onto the bed. “— and I’ve got an implant, but yeah, safe is good.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

Ben’s right there. His thighs nestled between her own, his elbows on both sides of her face. A part of her almost can’t believe it’s happening and apparently neither can he, if the way he’s looking at her is anything to go off of. Like she’s the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to him. The most precious thing he’s ever laid down on his bed.

He looks almost terrified until she kisses him and rocks her hips against his. Grazing his cock, inviting him to move or take. Just something. She needs something.

His weight shifts to one side so he can glide himself into her. He’s big, so much bigger than anyone else she’s ever been with and while she’s not worried, it’s definitely an adjustment.

He moves slowly at first, firm steady pressure rocking in and sliding out. Pushing a little further with each swipe after the added grind of his pelvis against her clit.

The muscles of his back ripple beneath her fingers, tensing and coiling with his efforts. It’s amazing.

Fucking amazing.

When he’s fully seated, his hips flush with hers he breaths a broken sigh of relief and holds firm.

She flutters around him, her own body wordlessly begging for more.

His face screws up in concentration and she wonders if she should touch him or make a joke. Something to distract him.

“You feel so fucking good. I shouldn’t have let you even touch me, I don’t know how I’m going to keep it together.”

She preens beneath him and sure, it would be lovely to cum again. She’s almost certain she can given how worked up she still is and how he’s filling her up, touching places she’s only been able to find with a large toy and lots of practiced patience. She’s very confident he’ll be able to finish her off with no problem.

But she’ll never know if he doesn’t move so she does it for him. Rolling her hips and shouting, “Oh,” when he hits exactly that spot that makes her see stars.

Ben’s eyes lock into hers and he holds perfectly still, “That feel good? You wanna fuck yourself on my cock, Rey?”

“Yes.”

Yes, it feels fucking fantastic and she might not ever stop now that she’s started.

Ben doesn’t move an inch while she rolls and grinds down onto him. Doesn’t try to kiss her throat and swallows her moans. He eyes the way her tits bounce beneath him, comments on how beautiful she looks using him like a glorified sex toy, tells her it’s her cock to do with as she pleases and these are not things that she ever thought she longed to hear. But from Ben’s gritted teeth, they’re like fuel to the fire. Building her closer and closer to release.

“That’s it—fuck, Rey.” He nudges just a little deeper when her hips snap up and they both gasp. So he does it again. She’s so close now.

“You’re gonna ruin me. Fuck, I think you’ve already ruined me.” He's babbling, his arms shaking by her ears. Every breath hot across her face. Beads of sweat rolling down his chest.

“Never want you to stop fucking me the way you like. Do you hear me? If you want it, this cock is yours, all fucking yours. Okay?”

She nods her head and grinds down harder. The slap of his hips on her hips, the promise of more on his lips, whenever she wants more. It’s too much.

She feels it pulling and building. Growing into a living thing just inside her spine and her limbs. Then suddenly, it finds its way free. The moment he loses control and thrusts violently into her. She’s breaking apart and he’s crumbling above her. They’re a heap of shuddering limbs and sweat soaked skin. Stuttered breaths and tear streaked cheeks.

He twitches inside her and she’s never tried sex without a condom. It’s always seemed messy and unnecessary, but she finds herself wishing there was nothing between them. Wanting him to stay until he grows soft so she can feel it trickle out and cool on her thighs. So he could wipe her down or smear it into her skin.

It’s a strange awakening she never expected, much like the rest of the evening. It must just be Ben because she’s more sober than she was when he found her earlier.

The thought makes her laugh, it’s been maybe an hour since he found her downstairs. Her phone’s in the back pocket of her jeans on his balcony or she’d check.

Ben lifts his head from her chest to look at her in question.

His hair is sweaty and tangled in front of his eyes so she pushes it out of the way and asks, “I don’t still owe you for that beer I stole, right?”

The shaking of her chest distracts him for a second before he shakes his head. “No, you don’t owe me. In fact, come back and steal all my beer. Take my hoodies, raid my snack drawer. Just let me do all of that to you again, okay?”

“You want to do it again?”

“Fuck, yes. Are you kidding?”

“I just—I wasn’t sure if this was—”

“Come on,” he tugs her up off the bed. Once she’s standing he snatches up the comforter and drapes it over his shoulders. Then he pulls her into his chest, inside the warmth of the blanket and moves them back outside.

He perches her on one thigh letting her legs hang over the side like before, only this time they’re both naked. This time, his skin is hot against hers, the blanket trapping in their combined heat so she isn’t shivering unless he brushes soft kisses across the side of her neck or the tip of her shoulder. This time, he cradles her head to his shoulder and reaches down to snatch up one of the unopened beers. “Here,” he offers it to her after removing the cap.

“What about you?”

“That one’s for me too.” He smirks, “Figured I’d get a head start on showing you how good I am at sharing.”

Rey laughs, “Oh?”

“Mhmm.” He reaches out to the table, removing a cigarette from the pack and placing it between his teeth. She snatches the lighter from his fingers and she can see the way he’s preparing for her to reprimand him but she flicks the thing to life and smiles when he dips his head and the flame hits the paper. Glowing oranges, flickering shadows across his face. A pull of air through his lips sets the end fiery red, followed by a haze of smoke.

He reaches up to pull it from his lips and she stops him again, carefully sliding her fingers around the filter and holding until he releases. He twists his mouth to blow the smoke up into the air and watches her wrap her lips around the same spot he did.

It’s not a habit strictly speaking, just an occasional thing she does when the mood strikes and right now, after his declaration she just wants to share everything with him. He seems happy to oblige. Patiently waiting for her to have her fill before holding it out for him again. Sipping lightly from the beer when she passes that to him too. Kissing her in between.

Whispering promises of more sharing later while he rocks her, kisses her, touches her.

The party’s still going on down stairs, the very walls of the house thumping when the bass drops with whatever dance mix they’ve turned on now.

There’s a splash from the pool, followed by a loud shrieking voice promising revenge.

The air is cold, hazy with smoke, from them and probably the people below.

The nicotine settles in her veins.

The beer cools her parched throat.

Ben strokes her knee with warm fingers and hardens beneath her thigh.

Sparking desire across her skin and down her spine when he sucks her bottom lip between his teeth.

Stoking the smoldering embers of want and need when he carries her back to bed, spreading her out before him like a feast and he, a man starving for what only she can give.

The taste of sex and reckless bad habits mingling on their tongues igniting something in her soul.

She’s too rational to get lost in little vices, but Ben, she thinks she could let herself get addicted to him.