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“I would crown you,” he says, voice deep, heady, like he’s holding back. Ben’s eyes sparkle, the light of the candles in her chambers catch the brown hues and dance across his irises. “I should crown you,” he corrects.
Rey stays steady on her knees, balancing lightly, fingers curled into the thick folds of her gown. For a moment, she’s tempted to glance down at her shoulder where her dress is torn; the skin cold and chilled where it’s exposed. Instead, she keeps her gaze trained upon the foreign king, tongue darting out to wet her swollen bottom lip. “You haven’t the right.”
“Am I not anointed?” Ben questions, lips turning to a small smirk, careful hands dancing over the silver coronet that sits upon Rey’s dressing table. It had been his first gift; an intricate thing knotted together with the finest metals from the continent. He had it dotted with black precious jewels, cornered with the reddest rubies and laced with finest white pearls. He’d meant to woo her with it but Rey had sent it back with a single rider and a single message: Our Queen does not wish for marriage at this time.
It had made him all the more determined.
“Indeed,” Rey says, a little breathless, shifting herself, rising up as Ben takes three steps forward, his hand curled tightly around the little headpiece. “And so am I.”
She shivers when Ben’s free hand gently touches her face, body betraying her brain as she leans into it. It would feel almost like defeat if the moment weren’t so heated. It feels a little like defeat that she’s kneeled before a king when she’s a queen in her own right and considers herself Ben’s equal, even if society tells her she’s wrong.
“I told you I’d give you the world,” Ben murmurs, jaw setting harshly as he grinds his teeth together. “That we could rule everything.” She can’t tell if he’s truly angry.
“I’m not interested in the world. I have all that I need.” Rey nicks Ben’s palm with her teeth when it falls over her lips, his eyes darkening to the point where they’re almost black. Rey can’t look away. He’s entrancing like this; tall, strong, broad-shouldered. His shirt is thrown somewhere in the room. Rey tore it when he’d carried her in, tossed over his shoulders like a sack of grain, her fists beating against his back. The courtiers had been kind enough to look away, at least.
But now --- now she sits below him, bones pressing hard into the thick wood floor despite all the layers that surround her legs. She stares up at Ben, her hazel eyes just as alive as his, blood rushing through her veins, pulse pounding in her ears. She wonders if she could catch him off guard, whether it would give her enough time to stand if she bit completely into his palm, if she could move fast enough to bend his arm behind his back.
“ --- I like you on your knees,” Ben murmurs, that awful smirk on his face as if he hadn’t heard Rey’s denial of the offer of the world.
“You’re vile,” Rey comments, though she can’t help but say it lightly. She’d never truly mean such a thing. She places an opened mouth kiss to his palm, her lips settling on a long pink scar before she traces it with her tongue. Ben sighs above her and she can hear his knuckles crack as his hand tightens over the coronet in his opposite fist. “You remember this?”
“Of course I do,” he snaps, “you’re the one who gave it to me.”
“You invaded my kingdom.”
Rey trails her lips across his palm until her mouth reaches the ends of his fingers, grinning as she uses the edges of her teeth to skim across his fingertips. Out of her peripheral vision, she can tell it’s making Ben antsy and she does it again, harder this time.
“Other opportunities to get your attention weren’t successful, Your Grace.” Ben places emphasis on her title, like its rueful coming off his tongue.
“I was serious,” Rey replies, letting her gaze drift to his face. She gasps when she sees him --- he’s hardly recognizable to her, like he’s taken over by something else. His lips are dark pink like he’s been biting them (it was her, actually) and he looks half-mad. Like a man who would do anything to get what he wants. Rey has to clench her thighs together to keep her need under control. She’s aching between her legs, a burn that only Ben can settle. But she won’t give in yet, not when she has all the control despite their positions. It’s sudden when she takes his hand in both of hers, sliding two of his thick fingers between her lips. There’s a gasp from both of them and Rey smiles, flicking her tongue over the digits and hollowing out her cheekbones. Ben flexes his fingers in her mouth, like he’s exploring, like he’ll find the Holy Grail on her tongue.
He opens his eyes to look at her, to watch Rey prostrate on her knees, his fingers between her lips like she’s wanton, her hands wrapped around his wrist like she’s begging for more. She’s watching him just as he’s watching her; their gazes a game of lust. They’re baiting each other to see who will be the first to break. It will always be Ben.
He drops to his knees quickly, yanking his fingers out of Rey’s mouth, a wet trail of saliva following his forefinger as he catches her under the jaw, craning her neck so he can see her clearly. “You will be crowned,” he says like it’s a command, like he does to his soldiers and advisors and anyone else that comes within six feet of him. “You’ll be my queen.”
Rey blinks once, twice, and then nods. There’s a clatter as the coronet falls from Ben’s hand and then he’s on her, lips pressed to hers like she might disappear if he doesn’t kiss her hard enough. Both his hands cradle her face, the two of them on equal footing now. His bare chest presses against her gown, the winter wool rough where it touches his skin, the torn stitches across her shoulder tickling him to the point where he squirms. He’d been responsible for that, too, trying to catch her when she’d slipped out his arms a half hour ago.
Ben’s tongue prods at the seam of Rey’s lips, bravely begging entry, just like him when he’d brazenly charged over her boarders with an army of five thousand men. It had only been for show, of course, but his carefully trained movements and harsh kisses weren’t. He wants her more than he’s ever wanted anything. Rey relents easily, deepening their kiss. She feels joined to him when they move like this, their tongues uniting together, locking them in an endless dance of desire.
Rey lifts herself, scooting forward until she’s spread across Ben’s lap; her thighs on either side of his. She squeezes his waist gently with her legs, moaning quietly into his mouth as she feels his hardness press against her center. It’s sinful —- being like this, rocking down against Ben to ease the pressure between her thighs. Pulling back to catch her breath, she looks him in the eye. “Say it again.”
“You’ll be my queen. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
She can’t help the whimper that falls from the back of her throat.
Ben threads his hands through her loose, unbound hair, his fingers cupping the back of her skull as he holds her to look her in the eye. “Do you like that? The idea of sitting upon my throne? That I will never deny you a single wish?”
She responds by kissing him anew, teeth cutting into his bottom lip with the flurry of desire that pumps through her veins. Yes, she likes it, she loves it. Rey is a queen on her own --- her birthright --- but she loves to command. To have such a king as Ben Solo at her whim makes her weak in the knees and her cunt drip with want.
She rocks herself up before she drops down again, her wetness slicking itself on the outside of Ben’s breeches. She whines when she does it again, lips still on his, her fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulder blades. “Tell me,” he commands, one hand sliding down her spine to the small of her back, helping her glide back and forth, side to side, up and down.
“Yes,” Rey whispers, “yes, I like it.”
Ben smirks against her lips. “Good.”
He slides his hand between them, fingertips padding her wet slit. She’s soaked and a tiny voice inside his head chants Mine. Mine. Mine. He traces her folds, spreading her lips apart with his thumb as his index finger runs from her opening to her clit. Rey’s hips buck against his hand and she gasps into his mouth, desperate for something to fill the emptiness she feels. She clutches him tightly, moving her hips to have his thumb press against the little nub that makes her quake.
But Ben is smarter than that --- he wants to drag this out, to have her begging to come by the end of it, to have her shaking in his arms, delirious with desire. “Slow down,” he murmurs into her lips, eyes staring into Rey’s. “Beautiful girl.”
She struggles but does what he asks, swiveling her hips in a slow circle, barely moving at all as she grips Ben’s neck and digs her knees into the floor for leverage. His free hand moves from her hair to her gown, his fingers catching the fabric and the shift underneath, giving it a strong tug to expose her breasts. Rey’s chest is heaving as he stares, laying his fingers across the dip where her collarbone meets her sternum. He half expects her to lecture him about being wasteful, but no words come, her brain too focused on grinding against the heel of his hand between her legs.
He can’t quite comprehend how small she really is under his touch --- if he splays his hand, his thumb rests just below her breasts and his pinky can nearly touch her shoulder. It’s fascinating to look at and sends a jolt of heat through his belly. Rey is watching him like he’s the most important and enthralling thing in the world, like she’s waiting on him to make her his prey. “Please,” she keens, not really knowing what she’s asking for. Her brain is begging for more, more, more.
Before Rey can even think, Ben withdraws his hand from between her thighs, lifting her up under her arms. He lays her out on her back, her long and beautiful hair creating a halo that almost blends into the floor. She looks angelic, he thinks --- splayed out like this for him. Her cheeks are flushed red, lips almost purple from his intense kisses and her chest still heaves up and down, nipples hardening as they lay exposed. Her breasts are small but pert and Ben can’t help but put his mouth on her body, lips landing in the valley of her chest. He licks a trail to her right ripple, running his tongue over the puckered pink skin until Rey’s back is arched hard against him. Ben sucks a purple bloom onto her skin, his teeth marring the surface until he feels her fingers tugging in his hair, scraping against his scalp. His hands gently cup her breasts as he moves to kiss her once more, slow and languid this time, memorizing the way she tastes and how her breath hitches in her throat when he nips her bottom lip with his teeth.
Rey is acutely aware of how her wetness presses against Ben’s lower stomach, her gowns hoisted high above her hips so her cunt is just as exposed as her tits. She grinds against his abs, eyes falling closed as the knot in her stomach begins to tighten once more. She feels like every centimeter of her body is on fire; the ignored desire within her too much to deny any longer. “I want you,” she finally says, growing frustrated at Ben’s teasing. She digs her heel into the small of his back, pressing him closer. He’s still laced into his breeches but she can feel him and it sends her mind into overdrive. She reaches between them just because she can and she wants to, her tiny hands making quick work of his laces until his erection bobs against his stomach. The sight of Ben hard for her always takes her breath away and sends a flutter down her throat. She loved seeing exactly what she did to him.
Pulling on his hair, she looks him in the eye as she licks her palm, wrapping her fist around his cock, her thumb swiping over the head to collect the precum that’s gathered there. She adores the little whine that falls from Ben’s lips --- like she could unman him with a tiny flick of her wrist. He ruts into her hand, hips snapping forward. “Rey,” he murmurs, fingers drifting toward her center again.
She hums approvingly, repositioning them so his cock runs up and down her slit. It’s obscene how wet she is --- Rey can hear it as he slides against her. She’s teasing him (herself, too) and she doesn’t know how much longer she can bear it. But it’s always Ben who breaks first, slapping Rey’s hand away so he can sink into her dripping cunt. It’s not slow and he’s not gentle, filling her up, stretching her to a point she thinks she might not be able to take. But god, does she love this, the feeling of him pulsing inside her, not moving, their hips slotted together like they’re two puzzle pieces carved just for each other.
Rey can’t take her eyes off him as he hovers over her, lips ghosting across hers, not quite touching. “Move,” she commands, hitching her leg higher around his hip, “now.”
Ben nearly pulls all the way out before he slams back into her, sending Rey a few inches up the hardwood floors, and her palm slapping against his shoulder. Her eyes brim with tears at the sensation, though it’s a good feeling. She’s been her entire life without feeling whole like this. But when Ben’s inside her, it’s like something connects, like the universe falls into place and millions of stars shine just for them. It’s enough to make her take the lord’s name in vain. She grips his shoulders as she meets him thrust for thrust, arching her back so her hips catch his every time he buries himself to the hilt. “Beautiful girl,” Ben mumbles against the shell of her ear.
Rey keens, wrapping her arms around his neck, gritting her teeth as Ben pounds into her. The knot in her stomach is pulled taut, bound to break with the littlest encouragement. She pulls him as close as he can and Ben sighs, grinding his hips in a gentle circle so his pubic bone rubs against her clit on every rotation. His name dies a moan on her tongue, nails scraping angry red marks down his spine. “Beautiful Queen,” he corrects himself.
Ben untangles Rey’s legs from his hips, hooking his fingers under her knees so that he can press them against her chest. The king smirks down at her, using the back of his hand to sweep the damp hair from his eyes. The king rocks back on his haunches before pushing back in, both of them crying out for one another. This position leaves Rey open and vulnerable but she loves it, rutting up into Ben like she’s never supposed to do.
The rhythm he creates is harsh and unforgiving, his strong thighs slapping against Rey’s ass every time he moves forward. He briefly wonders if those in the hall can hear the sound of their lovemaking —- his skin slapping against hers and the way his name sounds when she moans it. It’s better than any choir in the whole world to him. He keeps it up, fingers digging into her thighs so hard she’ll be bruised tomorrow, but he knows she loves it. Loves to feel him even when he’s not there.
Her orgasm comes as a surprise, even to her it seems, from the way she clenches her eyes shut and whispers Ben under her breath. He feels her pulse white-hot around him, sweet cunt pulling him in even deeper. She goes still on the floor, entire body tightening up as she comes apart in waves over his cock. It’s the most blissful thing he’s ever felt.
The look on Rey’s face is enough to send Ben reeling, his own desire reaching a crescendo as he spills inside her. His hips stutter, his rhythm turning to a staccato, pleasure burning behind his eyelids as he fills her with his spend. He mumbles her name with a little groan before he pulls out, watching intently as his semen pools onto her thigh.
“Perhaps we’ve made an heir,” he whispers, laying himself beside her, curling his body around her own, nose pressed to her temple.
“Do you desire that?” She asks, turning to face him, fingers coming to trace the moles and freckles that dot his skin.
“More than you would know.”
Rey smiles as she glances at the ornate ring on her right hand —- the ring bejeweled with the finest ornaments from both their kingdoms that has laid upon her hand for nearly half a year. She looks upon her husband with pure joy; the nerves from her impending coronation vanishing. Tomorrow she will be crowned queen of Ben’s kingdom in addition to her own.
An heir. Yes, she desires that, too, she thinks, tracing her thumb over Ben’s full lips. And in this moment, she’s never felt more whole.