Rey dreamt of Starkiller Base and the platform where Ben killed his father. This time, however, it wasn't Han but the kindly old king Ben skewered.
“Isn't this what you wanted?” the murdered king asked before the dream changed to something nonsensical involving Chewie and the Falcon and hundreds of Porgs. Rey kept trying to find the Falcon's bathroom only to sink deeper and deeper into piles of Porgs, when an Ahch-To caretaker appeared to let her know the only working toilet was the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit.
The dream faded, leaving Rey blinking blearily up at the unfamiliar ceiling. It was still dark at the resort, but her bladder didn't seem to care, so she eased out from under Ben's arm to visit the washroom.
As she relieved herself, Rey remembered more and more of her dream, including the part with Ben and the king.
It wasn't what she'd wanted to happen, either in the dream or in reality. Her decisions had had unforeseen consequences, and the awful thing was that Rey didn't know what else she could have done. She didn't know how to convince anyone to do something she wouldn't be willing to do. She didn't possess that skill. She wondered if that was the heart of politics: convincing people to do things you would never do yourself.
Rey finished up and returned to the dim bedroom, finding her robe on the floor and slipping into it before crawling back into bed with Ben.
He was awake, of course, and waiting. His dark eyes followed her as she settled down beside him.
She curled into him, chilled from her brief foray out of bed, and pressed her face against his chest. “Bad dream,” she whispered, taking comfort from his closeness. It was not lost on her that he was the subject of her nightmare, even as his arms closed around her and made her feel safe.
She’d never had this — someone to chase the bad dreams away. Had Leia done this for him as a boy? Before fear drove her to send him away? Had she smoothed her hands over his back and his hair until the warmth and closeness lulled him back to sleep?
Then Ben’s hand moved lower and gently cupped her ass, making Rey gasp.
He certainly hadn’t learned that from his mother.
Rey pressed closer, and Ben’s arms drew her in until they were flush against each other. Their lips met, and they kissed lazily, their tongues reacquainting themselves with warm, slow, sleepy caresses. Ben’s hands moved soothingly over the robe, stroking and fondling, and Rey felt his member waking between them, not yet insistent but making its presence — and interest — known.
His fingers caught the neck of her robe and drew it aside, the robe’s thin belt doing nothing to hamper his gentle efforts.
Their kiss became heavier, deeper, mouths more insistent as Ben’s hand smoothed down to her legs and pushed the robe aside there, as well. He tugged Rey’s leg over his hip, squeezing and caressing her thigh as his sex bobbed against her, not quite in the right position. He used the hand on her thigh to fumble with himself until his tip slid inside, then returned his hand to her leg, gripping her there as he groaned and pressed deeper.
Rey gasped against his collarbone, all of her attention focused on the hot hazy sleepiness of his entry. Their mouths didn’t quite line up now, but Ben rectified that once he’d seated himself fully inside her by curling his spine so that he could reach her lips with his.
Rey sighed against his mouth and kissed him as he began to move inside her, soft and slow and sweet. She felt warm and safe, dreamlike, threading her fingers in Ben’s hair and kissing him through the coupling until he tore his mouth from hers to bury his head in her neck. He shuddered as he came inside her, mouth panting hot and damp against her skin.
As their breathing slowed, Ben groaned a curse into her neck.
Rey stroked his hair. “What is it?”
He drew back far enough to look at her, eyes heavy-lidded and lips pressed together. “I said you’d come first next time.”
Rey smiled. “It’s fine.”
Ben nuzzled her, his limbs still heavy and sated. “It’s not.” A lingering kiss made her body take his side: nothing would be okay until she’d come and come hard. “Let me make it up to you,” he said. “I’ll draw you a bath, order some food, and make you come as many times as you can stand.”
Rey felt like she ought to argue, but every word of that sentence sounded like heaven, so instead she grinned and kissed the tip of his nose. “Okay.”
He climbed out of bed with a final kiss to her lips, pulling on pants and a shirt before slipping into the washroom to draw her bath.
Rey took the moment alone to let her thoughts drift, pale and amorphous. When Ben returned, he stood and smiled down at her. Rey smiled back, shifting her legs on the mattress and biting her lip. She knew her eyes were hungry, and his darkened to match.
He bent to untie her robe and unwrap it from her. When she’d been freed of the fabric, he lifted her easily and carried her to the washroom.
The tub, which looked more like a small pond, sat beside a window overlooking the jungle below, though this window remained closed. Ben had placed a small lantern nearby, eschewing the room’s brighter lights for the soft glow.
He lowered Rey into the filling tub, settling her on a built-in seat, and she sighed as warmth pressed over her legs, into the used crevice between her thighs, and made her shiver at the contrast of the water’s heat against her cooler skin.
Ben loomed, and she smiled shyly up at him.
“I’ll be back,” he murmured, bending to press a kiss to her hair.
Rey nodded and sank deeper into the bath, wanting the heat to permeate further. Alone, she parted her thighs and rubbed her fingers against her folds, carefully and deliberately wiping the stickiness of their coupling away. As the water rose closer to her shoulders, she turned the tap off and ran her hands over her stomach and breasts, relieved as Ben’s dried mess dissolved into the water.
Having done all she could without cloth or soap, Rey relaxed and let her hand drift back between her thighs, searching out a different purpose now.
She gasped as she found that spot and pressed, biting back a moan. Rubbing it didn’t do much, the water washed her slick away too quickly, so instead she experimentally grasped and pinched it. Her hips jerked as tight pleasure shot almost painfully all the way to her spine. Rey yelped and pulled her hand away.
O-kay, maybe a lighter touch?
She tried again, just brushing the spot with her fingertips, and felt pleasure like the whisper of a butterfly’s wing, so subtle it could have been her imagination.
Rey continued to toy with herself, figuring out what pressure and rhythm she liked. She was deep into her self-pleasure when she heard the washroom door open. She jumped, yanking her hands away and staring at Ben as he entered with a tray.
He set the tray down on the side of the tub and raised an eyebrow when he saw her flushed face and guilty expression. One hand slid up her cheek, reminding her of the handful of times when they'd first met and he’d not quite touched her as he searched her mind. He had that same inquisitive intensity now. “What were you doing?”
Rey thought he already knew, or at least guessed, but she opened her mind to him, let him see.
His eyes slid closed, and his lips parted. “Oh.” When he opened his eyes, bright spots of color had appeared on his cheeks. “Rey.”
She simultaneously wanted to slide under the water to hide and rise up to pull him down. She did neither, watching instead as he stripped his shirt off and gripped the waistband of his pants. She looked away with a soft gasp as he drew them down and stepped out of them, only glancing up toward his chest and face when he joined her in the water.
She was very careful to avoid looking between his legs, but she couldn’t quite avoid catching it in her periphery and turning bright red as a result. It was better when he covered her and his chest and shoulders blocked most of her line of sight.
His hand crept to her core under the water, seeking to continue what she’d begun. Two fingers slid inside and his thumb probed at her clit. “Open for me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his face beside hers and expression distant as he nudged the barrier of her mind.
Rey let him in, let him feel what she felt so he could adjust his touch to suit her, and let her legs fall further open as well. Soon, he had her squirming beneath him, a faint smile on his lips as he listened to her responses.
“So impatient,” he murmured, as if she couldn’t feel his cock on her stomach or the way he shifted lightly, rhythmically, seeking friction against her skin.
He huffed as he caught her thought, and Rey mentally stuck her tongue out at him.
“Careful, or I’ll bite it off,” he warned, rutting harder.
Rey ignored the fact that he couldn’t bite a mental tongue and glanced down at the length of him moving against her stomach. A low moan escaped her, and she tried to hide how much the sight turned her on.
But she couldn’t. He was inside of her, his fingers in her body and his thoughts twining with hers, and he could feel how wet the shock of it made her.
He rose until the head of his cock rubbed directly between her breasts and wound his free hand in Rey’s hair so he could force her to look at it. Transfixed, she gazed directly at the mushroomed tip with its small open slit, unable to hide from the pale smooth length of him, and watched this piece of him degrade her with disproportionate desire rising up to meet it. She knew that the desire was her own, and the embarrassment sent her higher.
“Ben,” she gasped as his fingers picked up their pace, fucking her so hard that the water around them splashed lewdly. Rey gripped his arms to steady herself, her body anchored by his punishing grip in her hair and the pistoning hand between her thighs.
He continued to bump his thumb against her clit, and Rey felt emboldened by the mounting pleasure, her arousal feeding into his and his into hers through their mental connection until she was half insane with lust.
Insanity was the only explanation for why she dipped her mouth to the water’s choppy surface, extended her tongue, and licked the slit at the tip of his cock.
Ben cried out, his thumb clashing against her clit, and Rey felt a haze of carnal intent settle over him, mingling with frustration and fury. It distracted her, and he cut the connection, leaving her alone in her throbbing body as his long fingers drove her to the precipice, his cock bobbing in her face now, bumping wetly against her cheek, and Rey wrapped her lips instinctively around it just before she came, wringing a curse from the man hunched above her.
Rey flew apart with a wild, desperate moan, releasing Ben’s cock from her mouth so she could arch her back and ride his fingers through her orgasm. He drew her orgasm out with his fingers, and then she pushed his hand from her overstimulated body.
Ben wrapped an arm around her waist, flipped her over so her arms rested on the side of the tub, and entered her from behind. Rey gasped and pressed back into him, the reverberations of her orgasm flaring as Ben fucked her, his frantic thrusts stuttering to a halt as he released a low moan and added fresh wet heat to pool inside her body.
He slumped on top of her, then pulled her onto his lap on the tub's seat so that Rey could curl at a comfortable depth.
“Why were you angry?” she asked once they both caught their breath.
He huffed a laugh and gazed down at her, his brown eyes tracing over her face. “I promised myself I wouldn’t come. This was only supposed to be for you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips. “You spoiled my plan.”
Rey kissed him smartly on the mouth. “It was a stupid plan. I like it when you come.”
He raised an amused brow. “Well. You’re certainly good at making that happen.”
“I mean it,” she insisted, and tilted her face up so she could look him in the eye. She continued despite the blush on her cheeks. “I like making you come. It’s sexy.”
He examined her expression, his own hidden behind a considering frown. “I feel selfish when it’s just me.”
She traced her palm up his jaw, feeling the ridge of his scar. She couldn’t say that she didn’t appreciate the thought or that she didn’t want to come — orgasms were amazing — but she didn’t see what he had to feel selfish about. “It’s not like you’re ignoring my needs, Ben,” she said softly, caressing his face. He pressed his cheek into her palm and turned to kiss it. “And it’s just dumb to deny yourself for my sake, especially because I don’t want you to. It’s… nice. When you come for me.” She wanted to hide her face in his shoulder but resisted the impulse. Softly, she admitted again, “I like it.”
He pressed a kiss to her wrist. “You’ll tell me if you’re not satisfied?”
Rey thought about it. It would be embarrassing to admit, and part of her resisted the idea, but then she came up with a happy compromise. Wiggling on his lap, she straightened her spine. He’d been watching the emotions on her face, probably probing their bond to understand better. “If I’m unsatisfied, I will let you know by personally shoving your hand down my pants until it’s all better.”
He smiled, the expression reluctant, his gaze still wary, but she kissed him until the worry lines eased away and his hand drifted between her legs to tease her clit back to swollen attention.
“Like this?” he asked.
Rey squirmed, flushing with fresh desire. “You’re just doing that because you feel bad about earlier,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he admitted, but the grin teasing his lips made her ignore his hangups and kiss him, his face between her hands as he coaxed her higher and whispered dark desires in her ear, methodically circling her clit and pressing his fingers into her until she arched and shattered with a strangled cry.
He seemed pleased after that, satisfied that he’d made up for breaking his promise. It didn’t sit right with Rey that he couldn't just relax and enjoy himself, but her body was too busy humming like a well-tuned speeder engine to complain.
He pressed a piece of chocolate-covered fruit to her lips, and Rey accepted it with a happy sigh. She kissed his lips without wiping the chocolate residue from her own and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Ben’s lips found the bruises Desomma had covered up so carefully. He traced one to Rey’s sternum and up, mouthing at her collarbone where the shuttle’s harness had pressed most cruelly. “I’m glad they’re dead,” he said. His fingertips trailed over her shoulder, down to the thin raised lines of the scar on her bicep, her souvenir from their fight with Snoke’s Praetorian Guard. It had an interesting shape, almost intentional, like a signature flourish. Ben's fingers ran over and over it.
Rey turned her head to watch the progress of his fingers and lips. He kissed her scar, wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her, and trailed his mouth up her opposite shoulder, following the path of the bruises she’d acquired.
She stroked Ben’s thick dark hair, her fingers turning the top strands damp. “Have you heard anything about Nalti?”
Ben raised his head, his gaze flickering to hers with an assessing stillness. After Rey’s heart had time to sink, he confirmed her fears. “They replaced the arm.”
Rey buried her face in Ben’s neck and felt both arms come up around her, drawing her in. She didn’t cry, but she felt like maybe she ought to. “I should have been there.”
He adjusted their position so he could watch her, cradling her against his chest rather than hugging her. Eventually, he reached one of his long arms toward the tray of food and plucked a morsel off to slip between her lips. This one was savory and spread its flavor over the guilt on her tongue. “Cybernetics these days are excellent.”
“Tell that to Crusher Roodown,” Rey muttered as she chewed. Ben tilted his head in inquiry, but Rey shook her own. “Just someone on Jakku. He couldn’t scavenge after he lost his arms, wound up hauling scrap.” She didn’t mention how Crusher lost his arms, that Plutt suspected him of trading with another junk dealer and sent his goons to cut them off. It veered too close to memories of how she’d been under Plutt’s thumb, how she could have suffered an equally awful fate. Crusher Roodown had been an example of how one bad piece of intel could make The Blobfish turn on even his best people.
Ben stroked her hair. “I authorized a top of the line prosthetic for her. She’ll be fine.”
Rey let him try to soothe her, concentrating on his hands and the rumble of his voice to drive the memories away. “She’s why I ordered those hovercams. So she could see the wedding.”
“I know.” At her glance, he elaborated. “I had to sign off on them.”
“Ah.” So even that choice had been his, in the end. She shouldn’t be surprised, but she was. Another reminder of her place and how her authority was only what he allowed her. She didn’t think Ben thought of it that way, but it was the reality of their situation. In the eyes of the galaxy, he would always be the Supreme Leader, and she would always be… not.
“I believe the footage has already been taken to the Dominance.”
“Desomma said it might make the First Order look better if you released some of the recording.” Rey bit her lip and adjusted on his lap, her bare bottom against his naked thighs. “I’m not sure, though. I don’t know that I want strangers gawking at my wedding.”
Ben rested his head back against the side of the tub, a frown tugging at his full lips. Finally, he shrugged. “I’m not too concerned about public relations.”
Rey arched a brow at him. “You probably should be. People hate the First Order.”
He observed her with those dark, probing eyes. “They don’t need to like us. They just need to fall in line.”
Rey sighed. “That’s what the Empire thought."
He looked annoyed, so she let that line of conversation go and reached for the food. That she’d managed to ignore it this long surprised her, and she wondered as she stuffed her mouth if sex would be better if she could eat at the same time. Or maybe eating would be better if she could have sex at the same time.
Definitely worth exploring.
Rey hopped off Ben’s lap and examined the food more closely, popping bits into her mouth. After she’d eaten half of what he'd brought, she glanced over her shoulder and asked, “Did you want any?”
His lips twitched. “I can wait for breakfast.”
Rey grinned and went back to eating, elbows on the side of the tub so she could prop herself over the tray. “Mmm,” she sighed, wiggling with delight.
The sharp inhale behind her made Rey pause and consider how she was positioned, her back arched and rear on display. When she glanced over her shoulder again, more surreptitiously this time, she caught him staring at her ass. She gave it another experimental wiggle, and his lips parted.
His eyes flickered to hers, and the water sloshed as he surged forward to cover her.
He didn’t pull her away from the food, but his big hands gripped her hips, his lips traced up her spine, and his sex pressed hot and thick against her buttocks.
Rey moaned through her current mouthful and wiggled her ass against him.
He reached around and drew his fingers through her folds, adjusting her hips higher, actually lifting her out of the water to align himself so he could sink inside.
Rey grabbed the edge of the tub and groaned, her mouth full of food and her senses full of Ben. He was such a distraction that she forgot about the food in her mouth until a morsel tried to slide into her airway. The prospect of choking prompted Rey to chew rapidly and swallow as the man she loved thrust into her.
So much for that idea.
With her mouth free, she moaned and pressed back against him, her nipples rasping the edge of the tub as he took her.
“Say it,” he growled into her ear.
Rey gasped and shivered, feeling their bond open from his end, one word pressing into her with each thrust of his hips.
“You know what I want.” He bit her ear hard enough to leave a dent, and Rey shrieked at the unexpected pain of it. “Say it, Rey. Say it.”
She whimpered, unable to find any leverage. She could only accept his onslaught, couldn’t participate. Her lips parted on a gasp, and she whispered, “Husband.”
He drove into her so hard that her ribs slammed against the edge of the tub. Pain flared bright. “Again,” he demanded, holding her hips high with one arm while the other braced himself, his hand on the edge beside her.
“Husband,” she gasped, bracing herself to endure his rough thrusts, his strong, powerful strokes shoving her into the side of the tub. She had to grit her teeth to get through it. She felt relief when he came inside her with a ragged shout, tugged her into his arms, and slumped onto the tub’s seat to catch his breath.
“Ow,” she muttered against his collarbone. She rubbed at her ribs, and Ben drew back to look.
“Did I hurt you?”
Rey looked up at his wide-eyed frown. He glanced at her hand, and she snatched it away from her ribs, but he took the opportunity to make his own inspection, running a thumb across the red skin where she’d bumped against the tub's hard edge.
“I did, didn’t I?” He zeroed in on her face, the weight of his eyes heavy and accusing. “Why didn’t you say something?”
She shrugged. He’d been so eager, which she’d liked, and the pain hadn’t been that bad. None of which held up very well, but they were her reasons, damn it. They didn’t have to be good ones.
He sighed and smoothed her hair back from her face, leaving it damp. His fingers, she noted, were pruned from so much time spent in the water -- and inside her. The realization made her shiver.
Ben reached out and picked up a small violet bar of soap; he proceeded to rub it lazily up and down Rey’s back, to her neck and shoulders above the water and down to the base of her spine below, covering every inch before rinsing the suds away. “You have to tell me these things,” he murmured as he set to work on her arms and sides, then her front. He pressed his thumb into her nipples gently after he passed over them, a greeting more than a tease, and carefully rubbed the soap over the fresh bruises on her ribs, down her stomach, to the juncture of her legs.
He washed every inch of her, making her squeak and blush when his ruthless thoroughness included her asshole, and when she was clean and rinsed he began to wash himself.
Rey stopped him. Silently, glancing sheepishly through her lashes at him, she began to wash him the way he’d washed her, starting with his shoulders and chest.
He nuzzled his nose against her hair as she proceeded, not trying to touch her, just letting her touch him. “You need to tell me next time, Rey. Promise me.”
“I’ll try,” she said as she got to his thighs, skipped his soft member, and scrubbed her way down one leg.
He gripped her upper arms, his big hands spanning them, and waited for her to look up at him. “No. Not try. I don’t want to hurt you.” A glint of worry, maybe shame entered his dark eyes, and his mouth twisted with emotion. “I can… forget sometimes. To be gentle. I’m not… used to it.”
Rey wriggled free and leaned forward to kiss him, unable to keep the wry humor out of her voice. “Ben. It wasn’t the sex that hurt. It was the side of the tub.” She smoothed a lock of hair from his brow, leaving a damp trail behind on his skin. “I’ll say something next time, okay?” She ducked her head. “And… we’re both kind of new at this. I think we get some leeway while we figure it all out.”
Rey gripped the soap and returned to his leg, continuing down and noting the strangled noise he made when she scrubbed the bottom of his foot, a cross between a gargle and a yelp. His leg jerked as if he wanted to pull away, but he mastered himself and left his heel in her hand.
Rey bit back a grin. Ticklish. Good to know.
She moved to his other foot, suppressing her amusement at the way he twitched, and began to move up until she was soaping between his legs; he shifted his thighs apart to give her better access, heavy gaze on her face as she carefully washed him. He wasn’t erect, and Rey wondered if that had something to do with guilt or if she was doing this wrong, so she soaped him up slowly and took the chance to examine him through water fogged violet with soapsuds.
Soft like this, he was easy to manipulate, and Rey was almost worried about hurting him. His sex sat pale and quiet in coarse dark hair, moles sprinkled across his thighs to either side. Two tiny flat moles, almost freckles, appeared on his shaft, one further down and the other more to the side. She felt warm and pleased that no one else knew about them, that the sight was hers alone.
Beneath his member hung a fleshy sac with two lumps inside, and Rey blushed furiously when he made a low groan at her exploratory fondling. She washed there quickly and nudged him to turn so she could get his neck and back.
She wasn’t washing his ass, he could do that himself, and she told him so as soon as she finished with his tailbone. He took the soap with a low laugh, and Rey turned away. The sudsy water had begun to cool, so Rey climbed out and found a towel to wrap around herself. Ben followed suit once he was clean, setting the wet soap on the side of the tub and swinging his legs over to sit on the edge. He watched her as he grabbed a towel and dried his neck and the tips of his hair where water had gotten on it, leaving his big body on display.
Rey couldn’t help peeking, even though she felt his eyes on her face.
“You can look,” he said softly.
Which, of course, embarrassed her so much that she stopped peeking. She went into their room and found her nightgown, slipped it on, and crawled into bed, weariness tackling her. The sun wasn’t even up on Onderon, which meant it was probably bedtime on the Dominance.
When Ben entered, a towel slung around his waist, he set his neatly folded clothes on a chair by his side of the bed.
He dropped the towel and climbed into bed naked, curling his big warm body around Rey. His lips found her cheek, and he sleepily asked, “Do you want to try that thing you showed me? With my head between your legs?”
Rey’s eyes widened, her heart picking up. “I’m… I’m tired,” she protested.
His hand ghosted over her ribs where he’d pressed her into the hard tub edge, and Rey understood that his offer came more from guilt than desire.
“In the morning,” she replied, maneuvering until she could snuggle back against him. “I haven’t slept properly in… days, I think.”
He rumbled his assent and tugged the blankets up over them, cocooning them both in warmth.