Chapter Text
Ben has a bot set up to monitor comments on the website; obviously he’s not a stranger to filth, but occasionally some angry person will leave a nasty, disparaging essay about why women are sluts. His website is a place for sexual positivity, so the algorithm is set up to send comments like that to him for moderation—and normally he just deletes them.
This all means that it’s not terribly normal of him to check the bunk email he set up to give him notifications. Most of them are simple thank yous or declarations of love, but altogether not really anything of interest past a skim read.
So why he’s been refreshing his inbox for the last twenty minutes is a mystery.
(Not really. It has something to do with what Rey Niima was whispering at the overpriced salad bar.)
On his third beer—when the tv starts to fade out of his interest, and his alcohol-sodden fingers tab to Instagram, toying with the idea of typing Rey’s name in the search bar—after all, sending a follow request to a fellow employee is very normal behavior. At—he squints at the clock—eleven on a Saturday.
Normal behavior, certainly, when you’ve had a crush on this girl for nearly a year now.
He had mistaken it for irritation for the first few weeks; not understanding why he couldn’t look her in the eye when he set up her workstation on her very first day. She’d been wearing a polka-dot dress that tied on the side in a little bow, with tiny pearl earrings and plain flats.
She’d bumped into him while trying to put her cactus on her cubicle shelf; she was warm and smelled like tangerine, peaches, and a sugar-sweet popsicle, her bare, tanned legs entirely too close for comfort.
Ben hated it; the way he got tongue-tied the moment she walked into a room, like she was bringing in sunshine direct from a tropical island. Hates the way his hands sweat when she gets too close, how he feels icy cold with adrenaline when she simply smiles at him.
Of course he fantasizes about it; seeing her working late at her desk, coming up behind her and saying something brilliant and sexy so she’ll bend over her keyboard and lift the hem of her skirt and beg him for his cock. How she’ll blush in the hallway after giving him a blowjob in his office, discreetly wiping her pink mouth. How she’d look so small in his tee shirt, curled up beneath his sheets.
Ben nearly drops his beer when his phone buzzes; he swipes back to his email by muscle memory alone, frantically reading the header.
New Comment Posted
Reybaby94:uhm just wanted to say thanks for this. A friend sent me your interview and I’m glad I ended up checking it out, I think I’ve come like six times already lol. Ur instruction set is my favorite; would consider making another with spanking?
Fuck. Fuck.
Rey was in her twenties. Okay, so 94 made sense. And Reybaby —he’s heard that before, a nickname along with peanut her little group of friends uses.
If it was her—
(Does it matter? The idea alone is enough to make his dick hard.)
—if it was true, Rey Niima was sitting naked in her apartment all weekend, getting off to him. Long tan legs, soft gasps for air, rocking the curve of her hips.
And she was going to walk into work Monday morning without a clue.
On principle, he doesn’t usually respond to many comments; it’s usually a lot of work just to make sure the site stays running with new recordings, not to mention the sponsor collection and his writer’s collaboration network. He usually doesn’t have the time, even if he appreciates the feedback.
He can make exceptions, though; Ben contemplates while he takes another swig. He’s the boss. He can do what he likes.
First he needs to go take a cold shower.
Re: New Comment Posted
Sure, @Reybaby94. Anythimb u wan.t
Rey frowns, squinting at her phone while waiting in line at the grocery store. Kylo Ren’s response had a time stamp of nearly midnight—and it was typed like he was deep in the bottom of a glass.
Her mind transitions stubbornly to Ben at last year’s company holiday party; bleary-eyed next to a half empty bottle of gin. He had nursed his plastic cup—looking like a child’s toy in his huge hand—and made eye contact with her while she helped distribute the Secret Santa gifts.
And for once, he hadn’t looked away.
She remembered being mesmerized—maybe it was the punch, or the holiday sap finally getting to her: but his eyes looked so soft. Unconditional.
He smiled—face crinkling, and subtly raised his glass to her in a silent toast.
It was so out of character for him that Rey erupted in a snort, grinning back. She quickly raised her glass in return, sloshing sticky beer over the rim to drip down her hand.
In unison, they tipped their heads back to take a swig; Rey swallowed and then ducked her head in order to lick the spilled beer from her fingers, out of college-born habit.
When she glanced up again, Ben’s expression had turned inexplicably heady—eyes half lidded, his lips parted. Watching her like a predator.
Rey hadn’t realized back then that she was ready in trouble.
Now she very much realizes she’s in trouble.
She gets absolutely nothing done for the remainder of the morning after the elevator incident, simply staring at her screen, trying to come up with a solution. Ben had bolted just before the doors closed—so either he was up in Leia’s office trying to get her position terminated or he had died from asphyxiation.
By noon, she resolves to do a casual walk past his office; but the door is closed and she’s too nervous to knock. Mitaka, one door down, looks like he’s about to ask her if she needs help, so she quickly stammers something about her mouse not working and if she could have a new one please but if not that’s okay too and honestly it’s not even a problem she’ll just fix it herself and go back upstairs—
Mitaka stands up, brushing past her. “Solo has the inventory closet in his office. Let me see if he’s home.”
“No—“
The door swings inward to find Ben looking like a deer in headlights at his desk with a ham sandwich, his eyes growing huge when he spots Rey hovering behind Mitaka.
“Rey needs a new mouse, have you got spares in-house?”
Mitaka is blissfully unaware of the awful tension in the room for approximately two seconds; it becomes painfully obvious when Ben and Rey can’t stop staring at each other in silence with visible dread.
“...Ben?” Mitaka says slowly.
“I—yes. A mouse. Of course.”
His voice is like a siren’s call; her anxiety is quelled by her body’s Pavlovian response to the sound. The microphone, as expensive as it was, can’t capture the vibrations of his chest. Rey is pretty sure she just felt a drop of slick in her cotton underwear.
“A mouse,” she echoes, barely a squeak.
Mitaka glances between the two of them, grimacing and slowly backing out of the room. Apparently their charade was up—nobody was that oblivious. “A mouse,” the other man mutters warily, stepping around Rey and out into the hallway.
He shuts the door behind him.
Rey feels like she’s about to vomit—everything is the wrong thing to say. Sorry I found your secret side gig and masturbated to your filthy recordings where I got off on your calling me a whore. Anyways I hear Kaydel in billing is getting a promotion.
Ben finally puts his sandwich down, back into his Pyrex tupperware. He manages to break their staring contest first, looking resolutely at the wall, Adam’s apple bobbing as he leans back.
“Do you really need a new mouse?”
Rey bites her lip, shaking her head a fraction. “No.”
He glances back at her, eyes dipping for a second to her legs. His face is the color of ripe summer tomatoes.
“That’s unfortunate. We got the new wireless models last month. They’re much sleeker.”
Rey laughs, a hollow sound. Okay, so he doesn’t seem to hate her and isn’t currently trying to get her fired. Progress.
“We—don’t have to talk about it,” he tries, dipping his head to stare at his hands, clenched together on his desk. His shirtsleeves are rolled up, which should be illegal—Rey can see his veins from here. “Whatever you want, actually—“
“Did you know it was me? The comment?”
He winces.
Rey narrows her eyes at him. Weasel. “You did,” she accuses, putting her hands on her hips.
“I didn’t. Not for sure—I had my fantasies, but there was no way to know. How could I? Not until—“
“This morning,” she finishes for him, watching his expression turn so abashed he might have been a scolded child.
“Correct,” he answers lamely, licking his lips.
Rey pauses, trying to figure out how in the hell to have this conversation. There’s no blueprint for this behavior; her knees feel as weak as they would out to sea.
“What do you mean...fantasy?” She asks, taking a step forward. Ben looks panicked, like a cornered animal.
“Nothing—uh, just—turn of phrase. You know.” He gestures vaguely. “It wasn’t anything. It didn’t mean anything, I mean. Uh, if that makes sense.”
His office isn’t that large; Rey reaches his desk in two more steps, then comes around so they’re on the same side.
“Oh,” she shrugs. Ben is leaning back now like she’s frightened him, hands gripping the armrests so hard they’re squeaking for mercy. “That’s too bad.” She puts her hands behind her and hops up on the wood to his left, crossing her legs and peering down at him.
“It...is?” he asks, voice nearly cracking.
“I think so,” she cocks her head sweetly. “Don’t you?”
Ben is gaping at her like a fish; Rey is pretty sure she just short-circuited his brain.
Perhaps he needs a more...overt invitation.
If she’s going to skip lunch, she’s still going to get her fill. Speaking of—
“Do you want to hear what my favorite one was?” Rey turns, grabbing his sandwich and lifting it to her face, glancing down at him to see if he’ll protest. Ben says nothing, only focuses on her mouth.
Rey takes a bite and chews—spicy mustard, coincidentally her favorite. “I...always welcome feedback,” he answers lamely, eyes dipping to watch her throat when she swallows.
“My favorite was when you called me a little slut, and made me gag myself on my vibrator before begging to be fucked. I had to change the sheets. ”
Ben breathes through his mouth, looking lightheaded.
“It was so good. I’ve never come like that before—but there was just one thing.”
“Ah,” he nods, gazing up at her.
“I wasn’t thinking about Kylo Ren necessarily, as anonymous as he might be. I mean—the whole point is to imagine whoever you want, right? Well—there’s this guy—“
Ben’s face shatters; he looks like he might actually cry.
“And I think maybe he’d fuck me just as good.”
“That’s um. Great, Rey.” He really does a good job of looking like a kicked puppy.
“Over his desk.”
“Well, I wouldn’t recommend on company time—“
“Right now.”
She watches it happen slowly, like a sunrise, his facial features going through a complicated dance of denial, confusion and then—
Acceptance.
“Do you—mean...me?” He asks carefully, afraid to offend.
Rey nods, licking mustard from her thumb. “Does your door lock?”
He jumps out of his chair like he’s been electrocuted: Rey can spot the obvious bulge in his trousers as he hurries across the room to turn the handle. From the size of it, she’s starting to feel some creeping trepidation.
He clears his throat again. “What exactly do you want. Be clear, Rey.” His voice—it’s like he’s pulled her string, winding her up with little effort. Already she feels shy, shifting her legs.
There’s a terrible tremble in her voice when she speaks, but she pushes through it. “I want you to eat me out right here, and then,” she takes a deep breath, “bend me over and fuck me like you said you would.”
Ben takes a step forward—by god, the button on his slacks is strong to hold back what must be nearly a third leg—she drags her eyes back up to his face, which is clearly a mistake. Because he’s looking at her like she’s something to eat.
“I don’t have condoms,” he pauses, running a palm down his chest and wincing.
Rey blinks, worrying the inside of her cheek. She’s pretty sure she already made a mess of his desk; it was going to be hard to stop now.
“I’m. Clean, actually. IUD and everything. Just—if you want.”
“You’re sure?” he says, eyes wide.
“We don’t have to—“
“If I want. That's what you said.” The dangerous quality snaps back into his tone, the one that promised control.
Rey shivers, one hand clenching the hem of her skirt.
He crosses the room to stand between her spread legs: he’s wide, and she’s out of practice so her legs already feel the stretch. “You want to know something?” he asks, putting one finger on her knee and tracing up, up to where her skirt ends, pushing higher, bunching the fabric at her hips; the little line he makes feels like fire. “I’ve thought about this. A lot.”
She smiles, feeling victorious. “Fucking me on your desk?” she teases.
“No. Licking your cunt. Feeling you come—how you’d taste. Your thighs around my head.”
Oh.
He shrugs, faking nonchalance as he kneels. “I just didn’t know you’d be so desperate for it when I haven’t even touched you yet.”
Rey wrinkles her nose. “Listen, I know I mentioned earlier I got off to the sound of your voice, but as the situation stands, you’re not going to be doing a lot of talk—“
Rey squeals, slapping a hand over her mouth when he merely tugs her underwear to the side and licks, painfully slow from the bottom of her slit to just above her clit.
“You,” he licks again, “are a bit of a brat.”
Rey keens; Ben nuzzles his face at her center, hair tickling her skin. She can feel it when his nose bumps against her—the way he alternates between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue. When he lifts his head again, his chin is wet, shining under the lamp.
“Tell me,” he murmurs—there’s a fingertip sliding between her folds, his other hand laid on her belly. “How many times did you come for me?”
Rey leans up on her elbows, puffing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “S-seven. Fuck— “ his finger is blunt when it slides inside of her. “I had to charge my vibrator twice.”
He tsks. “You can do better than that, baby.”
With his second finger there’s an embarrassing amount of burn—Rey is a normal-sized human, albeit lean, but Ben’s hands are disproportionately large. It just keeps going and going until he’s buried them to the knuckle and it feels like she’s filled all the way up.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he continues, slowly drawing his fingers out before stuffing them back in, eliciting a grunt from her. “You’re going to sit there and take what I give you like a good girl,” he crooks his fingers and rubs a slow circle on her inner wall, working some special part of her that’s making her clench up. “And you’re going to be quiet, ” he leans over her, his free hand reaching up to encircle her neck. “Understand?”
Rey nods, feeling the press of his warm skin at her throat. She’s never wanted anything more than his fingers inside of her; the emptiness will kill her.
He seems satisfied; the ensuing smirk back makes her heart palpitate.
“Did you listen to the First Time recording?”
Rey nods. She listened to it more than once, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Do you remember the part where I told you to press down,” his hand moves, splaying over her abdomen, nearly covering the width of her, “right here?”
“Yes,” she whispers. It had been heartbreaking to do so; only serving as a reminder that she had been so achingly unspent.
But now Rey was squirming beneath him while his fingers gently probed inside of her, finding all the lovely sparking spots.
“Show me.”
Rey leans back a little before moving her trembling arm so her hand lays on top of his; it looks comically small in comparison.
She gasps when he leans his weight down, simultaneously rubbing his crooked fingers hard. It knocks the wind out of her, feeling doubly full, like there’s nowhere for his fingers to go . Rey has managed to brush her g-spot before with a vibrator if she can happen to reach deep enough, but this—
It’s like he’s going to milk the pleasure out of her, wring her out, and he hasn’t even unzipped his trousers.
“Quiet,” he reminds her, leaning over to nip at her knee. “Remember?”
“Ben,” she gasps, kicking out, nearly hitting him in the back. “Ben, I can’t—“
His thumb finds her clit and rubs an agonizingly gentle circle—Rey tilts back her head and whines.
His hand encircles her throat in an instant.
“Do you want me to gag you with my fingers or choke you?”
“W-what?”
“Too late,” he mutters, promptly shoving his thumb into her mouth, his fingers loosely cupped at her jaw. “Suck if you can’t be quiet for me. Press your hand down like I told you to. I’m going to suck that pretty clit until you come,” he leans over her, stretching to kiss the tip of her nose, “—just. Like. This.”
Rey gurgles beneath him, glancing down where her palm is against her hipbone. She shivers when she realizes that she can feel where his fingers are still slowly fucking her.
It’s only a moment later when Ben dips his head and her clit is bathed in wet warmth. He’s true to his word, priming her with a few broad licks before pressing in and sucking her clit between his lips. It’s wonderful, all sensation down to a tiny point until she’s floating in it.
And then he starts fucking her with his fingers in earnest, and holy sh—
Rey nearly bites down on his thumb: her head buzzes with overwhelming pleasure, and it’s all being ripped from her by a skilled tongue. His fingers are unrelenting, but it’s the sounds that push her over the edge; the wet slide of skin and his insolent mouth as he laps greedily at her center until—
Her orgasm is mighty, stringing her tight, her legs immediately clenching over his shoulders to hold his head where she wants; Ben catches the hint, pushing his fingers deep and suckling at her like his life depends on it. She muffles her cries into his hand, high pitched, awful things that sound like need personified.
And Rey would say it’s over but it’s not; the trembly aftershocks of being touched in so many places are like an echochamber—a shift there, a squirm here, like a domino effect with no end.
And Ben just—stands up, quickly sucking his fingers clean. He wraps his hands at her waist and rolls her over easily, until her legs hang limp over the edge, toes trailing the ground. Rey is in a daze, almost confused about what he’s doing until she hears the sound of a zipper.
Oh yeah. She’s about to get fucked by her daydream man.
Rey wiggles until she finds enough purchase on the ground to lift up on her toes, arching her back in a way she hopes is attractive. Ben seems to approve, quickly slapping her ass (she muffles a yelp) and putting a hand on her upper back, pushing her down until her shoulders are touching the wood.
“You,” he grunts, the tip of his cock prodding forward; she’s sensitive enough to hiss. “Are a little slut. Getting fucked raw at work.”
Rey’s chest is still heaving from her own orgasm, enough that she can barely catch her own breath to respond.
“Spreading your legs at my desk,” he admonishes, making her stomach flip. Rey buries her face into her forearm—he finds her soaked entrance and starts grinding forward, a slow burn. “Bending over for a fat cock.”
The first few inches have her immobile. She grits her teeth as he fucks her slowly, shallowly. “Wants me to come inside her, until she’s stuffed—” he notches deeper, and Rey wheezes. “—so full. Is that right?”
“Yes,” she whimpers, flexing the muscles in her back. “Yes, please. Fuck me.”
“You’re just going to take it,” his hands fall to her hips, adjusting her position so he can slide even deeper; his weight settles more distinctly between her legs. “Like a good girl.”
Tears prick at her eyes; she’s already come so thoroughly it seems impossible to be turned on again.
“Rey?” He squeezes her hips, thumbs digging into her back.
She hiccups as the root of him is finally pushed inside of her. “I—I’m a good girl,” she whines. “A—and I’m going to take it.”
And that seems quite enough for him.
Ben fucks in long, hard strokes with his whole body—dipping his cock in and out of her until Rey gives up on trying to catch her breath. Every little noise that squeaks past her defenses makes her nervous that he’ll stop or slow down, but Ben is finally past rationality. He yanks her hips back for leverage, burying himself deep on each thrust while she quietly whines beneath him.
“Who owns this pussy,” he growls, slapping her ass. “Who fucks you brainless, Rey?”
“You,” she gasps, fingernails scratching deep grooves in the wood. “You do Ben, oh god—”
“I could make you come down here for lunch for the rest of your fucking career,” he continues, pounding into her. “Give you my cock any way I’d like. Lick that clit until you cry. My little whore.”
“Please,” she moans, shaking her head. She hates that he’s right, that she’d give anything for that.
“Beg for my come,” he tangles his hands into her hair, pulling her head back until she’s arched painfully. “Don’t you want to be stuffed full?” he pants into her ear. “Go back to your desk and sit pretty while I drip out of you?”
“Come in me,” she nods, clenching down; she can tell he’s close from the way his strokes are shuddering. “Come in my pussy, Ben, I want it so bad. W-want you to come. I want to be filled up. Please— “
“ Fuck, Rey ,” he snarls, pulling her hips back until he’s as deep as he can go. Rey feels it when he unloads, the peculiar sensation of liquid warmth inside of her. Ben is quick to fall over her, twitching while pressing her down against the desk with his weight.
Eventually, when the oxygen returns to her brain, she feels a featherlight sensation moving on her spine—it takes her a moment to realize he’s pressing soft kisses in-between the notches of her bones.
She’s too nervous to speak, so she waits him out a little. His digital watch buzzes, breaking the silence for her to signify the last ten minutes of the hour.
“I think I did this backwards,” he croaks, leaning up so she can turn enough to see his face—his hair is damp at the temples and thoroughly mussed. “But if you’ll forgive me, can I take you on a date Friday?”
Rey looks at him from under her lashes. She thinks about her feelings-and-relationships-sabbatical. Thinks about how sometimes letting someone in means pressing old bruises. Thinks about Ben’s mouth on the softest parts of her. Thinks about his smile at the Christmas party.
“Yeah,” she nods, shyly grinning up at him, “that would be nice.”
From: Mitaka, Dopheld (IT)
To: Holdo, Amilyn (Human Resources)
Sent: Monday, June 16th, 2020, 12:32pm
Subject: OFFICE RELOCATION ASAP OR I SUE (High Priority)