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She has been around men before. Her father, most of all. A stern man, a tall man. The sort of man you don’t say no to. Then, the men her father knew, the others who were dreaming through space with them. The ones he told Rey would become her teachers, fathers of her friends, role models, once they finally made their way to the beautiful planet that the Lord had found for them. Where they would never be hungry or unhappy, where there would always be peace. She loved the light in his eyes, and her mother’s eyes, when he talked about this blessed future.
“Your children will be the chosen ones, Rey,” he told her, lifting her in the air even though she was too big for it at fifteen years old. “They will know nothing but God’s light,” and even though she didn’t know quite what this meant, the hope in his eyes, the weight in his words, made her believe in it.
But she doesn’t think this is the future her father was dreaming of. Even if he is waiting for her, on the mountain that the man – Ben, his name is Ben, she keeps having to remind herself – says that he will be on. Her mother too. Family. He keeps repeating it to her over and over again. Maybe it’s because of what happens to her face when he says it. She doesn’t mean to smile so big, it just happens. She wishes she was able to do more, say more, but something about the crash, living in stasis for so long, has made it difficult for her to push the words out.
Besides, Ben doesn’t seem to care much about what she has to say. Ever since he pulled her from the guts of the chamber she’d been dunked into, the word he’s said the most is “listen.” He speaks in short, choppy sentences meant to impress things on her. First, that the world she’s landed on is dangerous. Second, that almost everyone she knows is dead. Third, she has to trust him, this man who she has never seen before, who claims to be in charge of the ship, if she wants to get back to her family again.
“Rey,” he says, whenever he can sense her drifting away from him. “Stay with me.” He’s one of the biggest men she’s ever seen, leading her through a swampy, humid forest. All around them are sounds she’s never heard before, animal sounds, the kind that portend danger. The ground here is alive, vegetation clinging to her clothes as they weave their way through the forest. Bugs and other creatures buzz through the air and land on her skin. “Stop doing that,” Ben says, whenever he notices her slapping at them. “Don’t touch anything,” he adds, in case that wasn’t clear enough from all the other commands he’s barked at her.
She doesn’t understand who this man is or why he’s being so rough with her. He moves her with his hands, not even taking the time to tell her what to do. When he says her name, it’s only to tell her that she’s doing something wrong: don’t go there, don’t touch that, don’t do that. She has never liked being told what to do, her father used to say she didn’t have the constitution for it, not when she has so much light in her, so much fight. She tries to yank her arm out of his grasp but this just makes him tighten his grip. When she glares at him in frustration, he refuses to meet her gaze.
He has a stern face. The kind she imagines on statues and cliffsides, places where important men are memorialized. Her eyes keep catching on his broad shoulders, carrying the weight of a blaster and all the supplies they need to get to the mountain. Trying to get used to what it feels like, getting caught in the long dark of his shadow, and how he towers over her like no one ever has before. It makes her feel funny to think about, a new feeling, a body-born one, the kind she doesn’t have a name for yet. She doesn’t know if she likes it.
“Stop looking at me,” he says, finally, cutting his eyes over to her so she can see she’s serious. “We need to move. C’mon, Rey.”
All around them, the jungle seems to breathe, seethe. Cries from unknown creatures, sharp and wild like no animals she’s ever heard before. Sweat drips down her spine and the thick, warm clothing that her mother had put her in to stay warm in the stasis pods clings to her skin. The thick, heavy press of his palm against hers, as they jump over fallen trees, weave through curtains of sloping branches and leaves – it makes it even worse. A caging feeling, making her insides burn with frustration. The sort of frustration that makes her body feel like a thing she cannot control.
She doesn’t know where exactly the impulse comes from. All she knows is that, suddenly, she’s yanking her hand out of his grasp. “Rey!” he yells, in a terrifying booming voice that stokes a little girl fear inside her. Begging her to move.
And then, before she can consider what’s happening, she’s running harder and faster than she ever had before. Spurred even more by the bellowing of Ben’s voice as he tells her to get the fuck back here right now. But it’s too late for that.
Not when she can taste freedom in her mouth, can feel it filling her lungs. The great green expanse of this foreign planet stretching out in front of her. All the uncertainty pulling at her insides, everything that’s gone wrong. How it felt to see the shattered pods of her comrades, the soup of their insides pouring onto the jungle floor. The incandescent future her father spun out for her, on the nights he tucked her into bed, drawing patterns in the night sky pouring through her window.
Rey takes off running and doesn’t look back.
Ben idly wonders for the fifth or sixth time if this is how he’s going to die. It’s a stupid death, tragic in all of the most shameful ways. In that way, perhaps, it’s fitting. “You know, kid, you’re getting a little too old to have a suicidal streak a mile wide,” his father told him the last time he saw him, maybe five or six years ago. However, any wisdom that might’ve been held in his words was immediately ruined by the fact that he died less than a year after saying them, in a reckless, boneheaded way not too different from the situation Ben now finds himself in: tearing his way through a foreign jungle full of hostiles, in search of a terrible girl who seems to hate his guts.
He’s never been good with people. That’s why he took these jobs, flying through the black vacuum of space in a ship filled with sleeping inhabitants that he’d only meet briefly once they reached their final destinations. Even then, it was only for a moment: a handshake, dry words of gratitude uttered before they all forgot him completely.
He doesn’t blame them; he knows from experience that there’s something bewitching about the first steps you take into a new world. Those are the only ones he’s ever taken. He always has to get back to the ship but once he settles in the cockpit, he realizes this urge, like so much about him, is motherless, a feeling without a home to go back to, a place to be fulfilled. There’s nothing waiting for him, no matter where he goes.
Maybe that was why he stuck the barrel of that gun in his mouth once it really dawned on him what had happened.
But that feels like something that happened in another life. The one he had before he found Rey, still slumbering in her pod like a fairytale princess in those stories that his mother always read to him before bed. This illusion did not last long. Almost as soon as he cracked the pod open, it became clear to him that the girl before him was no princess and she had little interest or trust in his ability to save her. The only way to buy her cooperation was with a lie that he already hated himself for – some bullshit about her family waiting for her on the mountain, even though he’s pretty sure he had to wipe her family’s guts off of his shoes when he finally got back there to assess the damage.
He’s used to transporting fanatics; they seem to be the only sort of people willing to go on these trips that lasted years. Despite how technologically advanced their society is, the idea of being in stasis turns most normal people’s stomachs, even if their scientists claim there’s no adverse effects. But the people who get on the ships he pilots, who let themselves be swallowed up in the life-giving liquid and pulled into what might be a forever sleep, have something more than science, more than logic: faith. Believing in a god who might deliver you from this twilight slumber and take you somewhere safe.
This group was perhaps the most spirited, the most devoted. They fell to their knees in gratitude in front of the ship before boarding, clad in robes and other religious finery that had to be shed, replaced by the regulation suits that had to be worn in the pods. Maybe that was why he didn’t recognize any of the faces he pulled loose from the pods that had unknowingly become their coffins. The sort of outcome that faith is supposed to save you from. He allowed himself a modicum of pleasure at the irony of their demise but soon lost his taste for schadenfreude when he found mute, traumatized Rey and realized he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t get her home.
“Rey!”
His throat is growing hoarse with how many tells he’s called out her name. He’s been walking for a while, an increment of time that’s been made to feel even longer by the weight of the pack strapped to his back, combined with the stress of holding his blaster ready to take aim and fire at any alien life he might come across. All around him, he can hear the sounds of animal life but it doesn’t sound like anything he’s ever heard before – low and reptilian, too big to be understood. From the carcasses he’s come across as he’s made his way through the forest, they all seem to have big-ass teeth and a penchant for ripping faces off with them.
Not for the first time, he has to stop himself from punching his fist into a nearby tree. Not because he thinks he doesn’t deserve the pain, but because his knuckles are already fucked from the first couple times he did it, when his initial search around the perimeter of where he last saw Rey didn’t turn up anything. The anger he felt then is nothing compared to what he feels now, the sort of fury that uses self-hatred to fuel itself, the kind of fire that only gets worse the longer it burns. And the longer it rages, the more it turns outward: to the stupid fucking cult that decided to get on this ship, to Rey’s stupid parents who decided it was a good idea to take their teenage daughter with them to probable death, and then, finally, to Rey herself. Spoiled brat who won’t fucking listen to him and now she’s probably getting her faced chewed off by some type of alien with giant teeth and halitosis.
Of course, as soon as that thought crosses his mind, he hears a scream. Loud, piercing, and crystalline – the kind of scream that only belongs to girls. He takes off running in the direction of the sound, using every bit of military training he still remembers. Trying his best to move quickly with how his feet keep sinking into the dirt, like it can’t decide if it’s marsh, mud, or something worse. Over his head, he hears the sound of large, leathery wings beating, the kind of shit that belongs to predators, and he takes off running even faster, weaving between branches thick with leaves and moss and sap.
When Rey screams again, she’s close enough he can feel it in his jaw – shrill and piercing like filling. He knows what direction to go now; he’s just terrified of what he might find. Still, his training takes over – years spent in the military that should’ve been spent with a family – and goes to her or whatever might be left of her.
Almost immediately, she regretted her decision to leave Ben behind. Her first few gulps of freedom were a heady thing. It didn’t take long for them to settle in her, turning and twisting at her gut once she realized what she had done. Of course, by that point, her legs had already carried her too far. Her father had always said she was like a filly – a headstrong young thing that would one day start running and never look back.
She’s never run anywhere like this before, where the ground is alive and steaming, and there are noises all around here that she can’t imagine coming from any creature, any animal she’s ever seen before. Roars and shrill cawing, the sort of sounds that touch something animal in her pushing her forward even though she knows that she should go back.
But she can’t run forever. Eventually, fatigue catches up with her. She comes to a stop in a clearing, her heart pounding in her ears, panting as she tries to catch her breath. She still hasn’t realized what she’s done but it’s lurking right at the edge of her, waiting to swallow her whole. She can feel it, getting closer, the totaling sort of fear that accompanies fated death.
Thankfully, before it can set into her for good, she’s distracted by a rustling sound. She immediately turns toward it, hands reaching out in front of her as if that might help her defend herself. When she first woke up, Ben had told her that the planet was inhabited by some reptilian aliens that varied in size and behavior – most of them predators, but he’d seen some that are not.
That must be what the creature approaching her was, unmistakably alien but still, big-eyed and clumsy, like babies usually are. There was nothing threatening about its gait nor its pursuit of her; only curiosity seemed to be drawing it closer in slow, tentative steps. She’s always liked animals. Her father said that when they got to where they were going, she’d get to see a whole bunch of new ones that she’d never seen before. Maybe even get to take one home as a pet. She’d always wanted one of those.
Maybe it’s that longing that makes her walk closer to the creature. It’s maybe three-fourths of her size, two legged with a long, swanning neck and a beakish nose. She’s almost close enough that she can touch it. Then, without warning, the ground swallows the alien’s lower body in an abyss of mud. She knows it’s a baby now from the way it screams and cries in terrified surprise.
Without thinking, she throws her arms around the alien’s neck, trying to hoist it out of the encroaching mud. But the creature’s body weighs so much more than her own and the mud keeps creeping higher and higher. She lets out a scream of frustration as she keeps pulling with everything she has. Sweat collects on her skin but she can’t imagine letting go, not when she can see the creep of fear in this baby animal’s eyes.
“Rey!”
Before she knows what’s happening, she’s been lifted into the air by a pair of strong arms wrapped around her middle. Arms that she knows must belong to Ben, clad in the same uniform Then, just as quickly, she’s dropped to the ground in an unceremonious pile. Just in time to see the creature who trusted her to save it slip underneath the earthen abyss, its final whine sticking in her ears. Immediately, she jumps to her feet and lets out a scream of frustration, clawing her way back to the bubbling earth.
“No, you don’t!”
Again, her autonomy is being taken away from her and this, just as much as the death of the sweet creature, makes her sob. Ben lifts her into the air, ignoring how she hammers her tiny fists into her chest. She can hear him, cursing in low tones, talking about what a pain in the ass she is and it makes her rail at him even harder.
After a few fruitless punches, she finally gets him in the stomach, and he drops her. Whatever pain she feels at being dropped to the ground once more is overshadowed by the promise of freedom and she leaps to her feet, ignoring Ben bent over behind her, calling her a little bitch for knocking the wind out of him.
But whatever joy she might feel at her escape is short-lived. Before freedom can take root in her, she feels the slickshot of the same animal fear – the feeling of something creeping, advancing toward them. She spins around, only to see a giant mouth full of teeth, claws bent forward, reaching out for her – an alien the size of a human-man with his yellow predator eyes fixed on her. Fear like she’s never felt before fissures through Rey, fixing her to her spot, as the predator draws closer.
Until Ben shoots it dead.
It happens so quickly. First, him placing his body in front of hers – even though she’s been nothing but horrible to him ever since he woke her up from her slumber. Then, he lifts the giant blaster that’s strapped to his back and fires, the recoil throwing their bodies into each other. The alien lets out a terrible scream that can only accompany dying and relief, purer than she’s ever felt, courses through Rey as she looks around Ben to see the threat to her life crumpled in a lifeless pile.
This time, he doesn’t give her the opportunity to get away from him. Instead, before she realizes what’s happening, he’s throwing her over his shoulder, notching the arm that isn’t holding his gun right underneath her ass. Rey screams as he does it, throwing fruitless fists, but he doesn’t let up, only squeezing her legs harder.
“Don’t do anything fucking stupid. Or I’ll knock you out.”
Even Rey can’t find a way to argue with that.
He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this much before, rage and fear and self-loathing and something he doesn’t want to name, swirling in him all at once. All he knows is that his feelings toward the wretched girl in his arms are too much for him to handle, especially when he only recently pulled himself back from the edge of self-destruction.
Not at one point during their walk does he loosen his hold on her. He knows it must hurt from the way she’s wriggling but he can’t risk anything, not when she’s almost gotten away from him so many times. If they weren’t in this situation, he might find the fight in her impressive, but unfortunately, it just pisses him off. It seems that the feeling is mutual as all she has done since his threat is make her body as limp and heavy as possible. Making it almost impossible for him to not to think about the cushion of her breasts against his back, the curve of her ass lurking within his field of vision.
“You just don’t know what’s good for you, do you?” he says in a scolding tone. It’s supposed to be directed at her, though he could just as easily be talking to himself. He’s in thirties now. Too old to be trekking through hostile alien terrain late into the night because the shitty kid he’s ended up in charge of decided to run off. She just harrumphs in reply. Even though she hasn’t said one word to him, he’s more than aware of how pissed she is, he can feel it coming off of her in waves.
After walking for what feels like forever, they finally reach the cave system he’d identified before the set-out using the ship’s holomap. He hadn’t wanted to stop here, he’d hoped that they’d make more progress, maybe even make it to the mountain by the time the moon was high in the sky. But Rey’s little escape attempt has thrown everything into chaos. Maybe that’s why he isn’t exactly kind of gentle when he lets her down from his shoulders, depositing her on the ground with a firm thud.
Before she can even think about getting away from him again, he grabs her by the shoulders. Hard. Even drops to his knees so he can look her directly in the eye. Anger so much bigger than her little girl body thrums through her, filling her to the brim. Sparking in her eyes and if he didn’t know better, he might think she’s considering spitting in his face.
“Listen. I’m done with your shit, okay? The attitude, the running away, the not talking, all of it. I’m trying to help you, Rey. Trying to get your back to your family. I’m on your fucking side,” he says and he hates himself for the desperate note his voice takes on at the end, how pitiful he sounds.
Because just like the little shit that she is, Rey immediately takes advantage of his moment of weakness. She rears back and spits in his face. Somehow conjuring enough saliva that he’s blinded temporarily and she’s able to wriggle free of his grasp.
But she isn’t able to get far. Not with Ben as keyed up as he is now, as fucking furious, because he has spent so much time trying not to think about how sweet she smells that he’s memorized her scent. He can find her even as he’s blinking away her stinging little girl spit.
Once he gets his hands on her, he uses the collar of his shirt to wipe his face clean. Just so he can see the expression of rageful fear on Rey’s face now that he has her pinned underneath his body. He’s so much bigger than her, just the shadow of him must feel like a threat. He knows this, knows not to hate her for the way she’s looking at him, but that doesn’t stop a strange and dark feeling from filling his chest at the sight of her beneath him.
What happens next isn’t something he has complete control over. Only once he’s felt the jab of her little tongue in his mouth, does he register that he’s kissing her and that this was supposed to be a punishment of some kind. An inflicting of his will, him teaching her a lesson. Or, maybe, he just liked the way she looked beneath him enough that he’d debase both of them for it. But perhaps, the biggest surprise of all is the eager way she melts into his touch. As if whatever madness that has infected him is contagious and by pressing his body against hers, he’s given it to her too.
Still, he does manage one moment of clarity. Breaking their wild kiss for a moment just so he can take in what he’s already done to her. Her lips are kiss-swollen, her freckles haloed with her blush as she looks up at him with wet, hungry eyes. Her mouth follows his, as if she refuses to see sense. To make matters worse, she lets out a needy whine when he presses his hand to her chest to keep her at bay. Making his dick twitch and stealing his capacity for conscious thought.
“You want this?” he asks, his voice frayed with want or need or something worse. Not even giving her an opportunity to respond, before he presses his fingers into the fabric of her leggings, cursing when he feels how wet she is, effectively answering his question for her. “After everything you put me through today?” Her hips buck against the pressure of his fingertips, her eyes watering, either with disgust or desire, he’s too far gone to tell. “You think you deserve something nice?”
He’s never felt like this before. Fire licking its way up his spine, made worse by her bratty little nod, the way she looks up at him all slutty and wet-eyed. Making him dig his fingers into the material of her leggings until he has to rip a hole in them, has to get his fingers on the rhythmic, rapid pulse of her clit – so strong and desperate that he could feel it through the fabric.
“Sorry, princess,” he says, pinching her swollen clit between his fingers mercilessly, leaving her no choice but to scream. “You’ve got another thing coming.”
She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her or her body, what being pressed to his body has awakened in her. Starting when he threw her over his shoulder and the ease with which he did it, like she weighed nothing, meant nothing to him. Like he could do with her whatever he pleased. Not that the weight of his arms against her legs, holding her tight, didn’t piss her off, because it did, more than anything else he’d done to her. But it was accompanied by another feeling, something she only had a passing acquaintance with, that she didn’t know what to do with. All she knew was that it shot through the center of her, making sensations she thought she knew the shape of feel different than they used to.
Making her stare at his mouth and wonder what he might do to her with it.
Right before she’d gotten on the ship, an almost primal shift seemed to have taken place in her. Making her notice all the things that she never really had before. Especially about men. She’d gotten her first blood a couple of years previous, an occasion her family had celebrated with a decadent meal. Once they arrived on their new planet, her father had said she was to be married but until then, she was to remain chaste. Untainted, for when they reached their new world. But still, that had done nothing to combat the feelings that were burning up inside her. Ones that she was reminded of when she was pressed against the solid, warm weight of Ben’s body and could taste his breath on her tongue.
Not that she isn’t still angry with him. Because she is. No one has made her feel this way before, dizzy and stirred up all at once. And she’s always wondering what kissing might be like, especially the open-mouthed kind, and in all the years she’s lived under the yoke of her parents’ authority, she’s never gotten this close.
So when he finally does it – what she’s been dreaming of without even realizing it – she can’t help herself from giving in greedily. Her body understanding something bigger and older than herself about men like him and what they might want from her. Once their lips meet, hers parts hungrily, not out of desire but out of hunger for a fight. How else can she understand the mean way he keeps forcing his tongue into her mouth, the needy sounds he keeps plucking from her throat without her understanding their meaning or origin point?
Before her mind can catch up, can figure out what’s about to happen and whether it’s something she even wants, he’s pressing his fingers against her, giving her exactly what she wants without her even knowing what it is. Rey makes a desperate, keening sound and, suddenly, all she knows is that she needs him to keep going, keep touching her, soothing this ache that he’s created in her. But from the way he’s glowering down at her, it’s clear that he isn’t going to make it easy.
You think you deserve something nice? For me to give you what you want?
Is this what she wants? His head, between her legs, his hand spreading the part of her that her mother always told her that only her husband was supposed to see. Her body is still coming down from the way he pinched her clit between his fingers, forcing her into submission, showing her the things he was capable of making her feel, and the way he’s looking at her so hard it is making her insides quiver.
But before she can get used to it, the weight of his gaze, the way air feels on skin that’s so wet and sensitive, he’s suddenly diving between her legs. Without warning, his mouth covers her pussy completely. Applying brutal suction to her clit, punching a scream out of her chest. But he must sense it before it happens, the way everything in her is arching toward sound, and he catches her mouth in the span of his palm. When he lifts his face from where he’s been feasting on her, his mouth is red and wet, and it makes her insides feel funny.
“Be quiet. Or else I’ll stop.”
It’s the first of his orders that she follows without question, giving him a nod so he removes his big hand from her mouth. When he goes back to teasing her with the tip of his tongue, she bites down on her lip to keep the sounds inside. She can feel his eyes on her, she knows that this is a test, that he’ll stop if she isn’t able to behave herself. But it’s so hard when even the barest touch makes her feel so good, his eyes fixed on her face, watching for her every reaction.
“Fuck, you have the sweetest little cunt,” he says and that’s all the warning she gets before he’s fucking one of his fingers inside her. It’s clear that everything else was just practice for this – his beard scratching against her clit as he sucks at her, forcing his finger inside her more and more. “Take it,” he tells her, in-between tongue-lashings. “It’s not as bad as what’s coming next.”
But before Rey can even begin to understand what Ben’s telling her, he sends her careening over the edge. She doesn’t know quite how he does it, because the intrusion of his fingers hurts, the kind of pain she can feel her body fighting, all her muscles trying to push him out. Something about the hurt mixes with the sweet tendrils of pleasure he keeps pulling from her clit and suddenly, her whole body sings for him. Good and bad all rolled up in one, making her hips buck upward and her lip bleed with how hard she’s biting down.
He fucks her through it with his fingers, first only one, then two the second he’s able to cram it inside her. Like he knows what she needs before he does, he’s pulling her into his lap, capturing her crying mouth. Making her taste herself as he continues to stretch her out, her legs falling uselessly on either side of his waist like a doll’s. Swallowing her whimpers in his mouth, close enough that he must feel the tears leaking from her eyes, but still he is merciless. Teasing her clit at such a dizzying pace that she loses track of what sensation is pain and which is pleasure.
She clutches at his shirt, pulling him close, or pushing him away, she can’t tell. All that she knows is she can’t stop thinking about how wicked the word “next” sounded in his mouth and what that might promise. He doesn’t make her wait for long; no, just when she thinks that she’s learned to like how he’s manipulating her body, he removes his fingers from her gracelessly. Smirking at the way she whines, her eyes snapping open.
“Hold on,” he says, then he reaches between them to undo his pants. Rey leans back so she can watch, gasping when he pulls out his massive cock. Suddenly, what’s going to happen next becomes extremely apparent to her, like the horrific ending of a scary story and she tenses up, scrabbling at his shirt.
“No, no. You don’t get to back out now,” he tells her, and it’s the certainty in his voice that sends a shiver down her spine. The kind that makes her insides twinge in this new way that Ben has taught her. Almost as if reading her mind, he puts his fingers in the place that aches for him. Rey lets out another bleating sound, digging her nails into his chest through his shirt as he uses her wetness to slick himself up.
“God, you’re so fucking wet. You want this. Don’t pretend that you don’t.” Something pleading in his last sentence, like he’s looking for an answer. Despite everything in her body telling her to do the opposite, she gives him a sharp little nod. Hoping that whatever he had done to her had prepared her for what came next.
When the blunt head of his cock digs into her, she realizes that nothing possibly could. Again, Ben anticipates the noise before she even makes it, pulling his shirt collar to the side and telling her to bite down on his shoulder. But his voice trembles when he says it, almost like he’s trying to keep himself under control. Even from where she’s burrowed into his neck, hissing in breaths as her body makes sense of the width of him, she can hear the broken sounds he’s making. Cut off groans, desperate curses as he tries his best to keep his body under his control. The only word that she can make out is “tight” and it’s like a chant as he forces his way inside her.
No matter how hard she bites, he presses deeper. Not stopping even when she draws blood right before he becomes fully seated inside her. The sort of thing she can feel in every inch of her small body. She only notices the fingers that he’s been soothing up and down her back until they stop and he’s using them to tilt her chin down instead so she can see what he’s done to her.
“Look at that, Rey. Look how good you’re being for me.”
She doesn’t understand why she feels so wet at the sight. Why she finds herself moving against him a little, remembering all the terrible-good ways he was able to make her feel before, when she wanted it even less. And whatever’s happening to her is the sort of thing he can feel because he starts to move. Slowly at first, just grinding the weight of him against these new parts of her that he’s introduced her to. Then, maybe finally taking pity on her and the tears she’s been dripping down his chest, he drops his hand to where they’re joined.
“Want me to touch you here?” he asks, drawing his finger around it in a circle. Rey looks up at him with teary eyes before giving him another desperate nod. There’s something too dark about his eyes, like his pupils have swallowed his iris. Wild eyes, the kind that her father taught her to be wary of, because there’s no room in them for God. A fact that becomes abundantly clear as he begins to tease her clit more tenderly than he ever has. “Shit, you like that? You just got so tight.”
She’s always been a strong girl. Never willing to back down from a fight or any sort of hurt. Reckless, her mother called her. Her father just called her a fighter. And maybe that is why she starts to move against him no matter how badly it hurts. Seeking out the golden edge of pleasure in all the pain. Made all the sweeter by the noises Ben makes, his eyes fluttering closed as her cunt hugs him real tight.
“Fuck, how do you know how to do that?” he says, his eyes flicking down to where she’s speared open by him. She follows his gaze and sees the ring of blood that’s collecting around the base of cock. Proving her virginity to him, even if he doesn’t want to believe it. The knowledge that she’s doing a good job makes her even more desperate to prove herself to him, to show him that she’s worth all the goddamn trouble. As a reward, he returns to playing with her clit. Helping her lift her little hips so he can show her how to ride him.
When it happens this time, it feels so different, she almost doesn’t believe it’s the same thing he made her feel before. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been moving against each other. Her mouth eventually finds its way to his and his tongue fucking in and out of it in a crude imitation of what he’s doing to her cunt, his fingers teasing her in time. Then, he shifts his hips upward, catching a new part of her and Rey sobs, unable to make sense of what’s happening inside her.
Ben catches her trembling face in his big hand, his eyes big and black with what must be a twin madness. “Come for me, Rey,” he says, and her body knows exactly what to do, sending her tumbling through a torrent of ecstasy laced with pain. What happens after that, she doesn’t know. All she knows is that Ben doesn’t stop making her feel all of this wretched, lovely things until she’s sobbing for him to stop.
It is only when she’s sleeping, fist clutching in the synthetic fabric of his sleeping bag that he realizes how young she really is. The soft down of her skin, the innocent flush of her girlish cheeks. No lines on her forehead or pimples blemishing her face, only the raw beauty of youth. He knows if he doesn’t do it now, he never will.
He leans over and jostles her by the shoulder. Making her blink up at him with dewy, pitiful eyes that make him feel even worse about what he’s done than he already does. “I have something to tell you,” he says, cutting his gaze away from her because he doesn’t trust himself. He gave her one of his shirts to wear to sleep and all he can think about is how she’s naked underneath it.
“What is it?” she says, rubbing at her eyes, precious and sleep-mussed.
“I lied to you. Before. Your parents are dead.”