Sexual content warning.

CH 5: Shelter

There was something about nightfall that Ben had never liked – something primordial that instilled fear and unrest. While on most occasions, he could easily dissipate his anxiety with push-ups or a walk through camp, the restless, creeping ache wasn't leaving his chest on that night. Not even passages from his Bible were proving to be a comfort – thou shalt not commit adultery; thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife – and with an aggrieved shudder, Ben clapped his hands over his face and groaned.

"Ben?"

He jerked, looking up in alarm. Anna stood there in the entrance to his tent, clutching her cloak so tightly that her hands shook. Despite the evening chill, he could see she was only wearing her shift. The firm indentation of her nipples pressed against the thin fabric, and flustered, Ben quickly rose from his cot. "Anna? Uh…w-what are you-?"

"Are you all right?" she cut in. There was something rattled about her appearance – her hair was loose around her shoulders, and her eyes bright and unreadable as she closed the gap between them. Hesitant, her gaze roved across his face. "You still look a little pale."

"I feel fine," Ben lied.

Concerned, Anna lifted her hands and cupped his face, causing him to flinch and draw a breath.

"You shouldn't be here," he warned.

"Why not?"

Her thumb stroked the curve of his cheek, and appearing physically pained, Ben curled his hand over hers and anchored her there against him. Her gaze was soft, pleading, and his resolve rapidly started to crumble. Swallowing, he managed to reply, "I'm still not sure about what happened earlier, Anna, and…I'm so sorry for it." Doleful, he nudged his cheek into her open palm. "I'm worried I won't be able to control myself."

"I hope you won't." Anna jerked a moment, almost appearing startled by her own admission. Eyes growing wet, she brushed her thumb over his lips and edged their foreheads together. "You scared me at first, Ben, but the truth is, I can't remember the last time I've ever felt so…" Breath stammering, she drew his hand over her rapidly beating heart. "…so alive."

Ben's pulse quickened. With her so close to him, so needy and warm beneath his fingertips, his desires from earlier resurfaced with the painful reminder that he'd become addicted. Somehow, some way, he had become wholly dependent upon Anna Strong, and as her lips brushed over his, a responsive ache flared up within his loins.

"I think I'm sick…that something's wrong with me," he cautioned, his fingers trailing up to loosely wrap around her throat.

Anna's breath hitched and she nodded. "I think there's something wrong with me too," she agreed in a whisper. "I want this, Ben. And I want it to hurt."

His brow scrunched. "To hurt?"

Curling her fingers over his hand on her neck, she applied pressure, and it was then that Ben finally took note of the light bruising on her throat. Had he done that? His stomach roiled at the sight. "Oh, Anna…God, I…I-I didn't mean-"

"Touch me," she pleaded, her eyes welling up with tears. "I hadn't realized until today that I could still feel…that I'd even want to."

Expression softening, Ben stroked his thumb over her cheek and brushed his fingers through her hair. He was sick…he was depraved, but he couldn't deny that he wanted this – that he wanted her. He would always want her.

With a shaky breath, Ben nuzzled into the corner of her mouth and exhaled, tasting her tears as their mouths slid together in a harsh, urgent kiss. Her fingers wrapped around his braid and she tugged, encouraging his teeth to graze her bottom lip as he sucked.

Anna's free hand gripped at the collar of his shirt, and then her fingers dipped beneath to skim over the sparse, dark hairs on his chest. She broke the kiss long enough to lower and lick at the exposed skin, his hand falling to fist through her locks as she kissed a path up toward his neck.

Between their bodies, Anna eagerly rolled her palm over his swelling hardness and sighed into his throat. "You feel so good, Ben," she whispered, nipping at his skin. "Touch me back."

With permission granted, Ben felt the last thread of his resolve snap. Raking his fingers through her soft, tumbling curls, he pulled her into his arms and urged her mouth into his in a rough, messy kiss that lit through him like an unfettered powder keg. Anna moaned and opened her mouth to accept him, licking while he reached down and tugged at her shift with impatience. Parting their lips to dot several eager, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, he flicked his tongue against her pulse and shivered when she gasped.

"Get undressed," he commanded. "I want to look at you."

Withdrawing with a drugged, stormy quality to her large eyes, Anna lifted her hands and clumsily unfastened her cloak. The garment slid from her shoulders and pooled down around her feet, leaving her in her flimsy shift.

"That too," Ben said, indicating her nightclothes.

Breath growing shallow, Anna reached for the hem of her garment, then slowly dragged the fabric up over her thighs. Ben swallowed as little by little, her pale, stockinged legs were exposed to his hungry gaze, followed by the rest of her lithe frame as she whisked the shift over her head. Once she'd tossed it to the ground, she regarded him through pleading, heavy-lidded eyes, and Ben's cock throbbed at the sight of her so ready for him. Between her thighs, there was a blatant sheen of slick that left him dizzy. She wanted this…and for some unfathomable reason, she wanted him.

"Please," Anna begged, her voice huskier than usual. "Let me see you, Ben."

Even with the authoritative air he'd adapted, he was still undeniably eager to please. Fumbling with his own shirt, Ben practically tore it over his head before casting the raiment aside. Anna's eyes raked over him and he flushed, quick to turn his attention to the buttons on his breeches. His fingers caught on the fastenings several times before finally, he was able to slide his breeches down into the grass. Naked and at her mercy, save for the stockings on his legs, he looked up as though intoxicated by the very sight of her.

Anna drew a breath. In truth, though she always believed Ben handsome, she'd never actually considered how he would appear undressed. He had a timid frailty that touched her heart, and yet his strength, broad shoulders, various scarring and corded muscle had her tingling all over. He wasn't the boy she skinny-dipped with as a child. He was a man now, and her thighs tensed while she watched him peer back at her as though she were the most beautiful, desirable woman on the face of the earth. His clear need filled her with stinging heat.

Wordless, Anna approached and lifted her hand. She cupped the side of his strong jaw and Ben leaned into her palm, kissing her wrist before she eagerly tugged at the bow on his braid. It came loose, and once the fabric fluttered to the ground, she raked her fingers through his hair and caused his long, sandy locks to tumble free and cascade around his face and shoulders.

"It seemed only fair," Anna whispered, indicating her loose curls.

Ben smiled and edged his mouth into hers, cupping her cheeks and drowning himself in the safety, the warmth, the comfort of her touch. Their kiss escalated in aggression, and as her nails snagged along his back, he bit down on her bottom lip, prompting the pain and pleasure to mingle. Anna was right, he realized. This should hurt. They deserved to hurt for what they were doing, and yet as they stumbled back toward his desk, a hidden part of him realized he wasn't sorry. Why should he apologize for what brought him peace? Nobody had sought to help him during this damnable war, so just like everyone else strove to take and take and take, he would do the same.

With a low whimper, Anna collided with his desk and fell upon its surface, her legs parting to allow Ben in between them. "Do whatever you want with me," she pleaded.

Sliding a hand between her legs, Ben's eyes honed in on her face and he rolled the heel of his palm against her heat. Anna whined, and her back arched as she began to grind down into his searching fingers. With his mouth brushing against her ear, Ben rolled his fingers along her slick, sensitive folds.

Breathing in sharply, Anna squirmed when he pressed his palm down into her clit, dragging his fingers back and forth along her entrance. Helpless, she fumblingly grasped at his shoulders and dropped her forehead against his chest, whimpering as her knees grew weak. He pushed two fingers inside her with a rough, almost punitive twist and she cried out, sagging against him as his pace grew merciless. Unabashed, she rode his fingers with impatient little thrusts, her hips rocking into his jerking hand while he pushed, prodded, and rubbed at her pleasure spots.

"Does that feel good?"

With a feeble little nod, Anna gasped when Ben knotted his fingers through her hair and yanked her free of hiding, forcing their eyes to lock as he continued working his hand between her legs.

"Are you going to cum?"

Again, Anna nodded, but this time a soft little moan escaped her lips.

Encouraging her to buck and twist into the assault of his fingers, Ben increased the speed of his hand as she pulsed wetly around him. With brushes of his thumb against her clit, he teased Anna until she was teetering dangerously close to the edge, her thighs tensing as he pushed up into her throbbing heat.

That was when Ben pulled away.

With a needy little whine, Anna tried to tug his hand back between her legs, but was rewarded when instead, he aligned his cock with her entrance.

"Please," she begged.

Despite the fact that his desperation matched hers, it was wholly satisfying to see her so broken and hungry for him. He didn't have the heart to deny her – to deny himself.

Ben sank roughly inside Anna with a low, gusting sigh and drove in all the way to the hilt, his knees nearly giving out once her heat gripped strongly around him. She gave a sharp cry and fell back onto her elbows. Ben's inkwell capsized and rolled off somewhere into the grass, yet neither paid it any mind as their lips crashed together and muffled their low, needy groans.

This was it – this was what Ben had been craving – and after eagerly dipping his tongue into her mouth, he began fiercely driving his hips into hers, his harsh thrusts causing the desk to creak maddeningly beneath their combined weight.

Mewling into their kiss, Anna wrapped her legs around his waist and attempted to gather him up inside her. It wasn't enough – even with his sizeable length pounding between her walls, she could never feel enough, hurt enough as they licked, bit and scratched at one another.

Ben, too, felt nothing but sheer desperation as he fucked up into Anna's warmth. Each slice of her nails across his shoulders caused a pleasurable, electrifying tingle to jolt straight down to his cock, pulsing there between her walls as their kiss grew rough and bruising. His lips were beginning to feel raw and worked over, and yet he continued, absolutely refusing to spare himself of any pain. It was what he deserved. And after hours upon days of dreaming of this, of imagining Anna pinned beneath him while he drove his cock deep inside her, and clapping a hand over her mouth to quiet her sharp, ecstatic cries, he realized more than ever that he couldn't stop – that he wouldn't stop. He needed her, he needed this, it helped, it soothed, it saved…

Losing his rhythm, Ben pressed his forehead into Anna's and gave a low, guttural cry. His hips jerked fitfully, and then he pushed up inside her one final time before he came in a harsh, violent shudder. Anna bit down on his shoulder and practically sobbed along with her own orgasm, her arousal and self-loathing each channeling into the greedy, aggressive rubbing over her clit until she spasmed, arched, and came undone around his softening cock with several eager, subtle bucks of her hips.

Breathless and spent, Ben remained buried inside her as their lips brushed in a soft, barely there kiss.

Anna's hand drew over his chest and she swallowed, attempting to catch her breath. Between her thighs was the messy, incriminating proof of their shared weakness, and while she brushed her fingers along the faint, purplish bruising of her teeth marks on his shoulder, the guilt returned tenfold and nearly suffocated her. "I have to go…"

"No," Ben pleaded, nuzzling into her cheek, "stay with me. Just for a little while."

Yet again, his frailty managed to touch her heart, and Anna nodded before pulling him down for a kiss.

Despite Ben's bed being barely big enough for two, he and Anna laid sprawled out across the mattress, naked and with limbs entangled while they whispered softly within the lamplight.

"And this one?" Anna asked, gently brushing the round, thumbprint-sized scar on his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure that's not a Setauket injury…"

"Right again," Ben murmured. An almost tragic smile touched his mouth and he caught her hand, fondly drawing his lips to her knuckles. "That was one of the first injuries I sustained in war…from Robert Rogers."

"Rogers?" A shudder rolled through Anna, and concerned, her gaze once more dropped to his scar. "From a musket?"

Ben nodded, and with a touch of regret, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against the pink, slightly raised mark. Her thumb traced around the edge of the circle, and then her free hand drifted down, down, before she found a similar scar on his torso. Her brow creased and she looked up at him again. "Another musket injury? Was this the one from…f-from when you were…?"

"Nearly killed," Ben supplied, nodding. "Gamble captured me, and then I had to live off the land for a few days once I escaped. Though I've got to say, sewing yourself up is bloody painful."

Anna arched a brow. "You sewed yourself? What on earth were you doing carrying a needle and thread?"

He smiled. "Trust me, Anna: when you get injured enough times, that sort of thing becomes a necessity." He chuckled, if only to defuse the sorrowful look in her eyes. "Don't look at me like that," he pleaded. "I don't want your pity."

"And you won't have it," she softly assured him. "If anything, I love these parts of you…not because of how you've acquired them, but because they prove your resilience – your ability to survive." Nudging her forehead into his, she gently traced over the gnarled, uneven scar tissue with a slight smirk. "Your stitchwork must've been atrocious, by the way. You definitely needed a woman's touch."

Ben sneered at her. "Well unfortunately, there seemed to be a short supply of women in the woods that night."

Grazing her fingers up over his torso, Anna lightly skated her touch along a thin, uneven line on his bicep. "What about this one?" she asked.

"That was from Caleb."

"Caleb?"

He laughed at her surprise, nodding. "He was trying to get me to go after Sally Henderson, but in his overzealousness, he pushed me right out of the tree we'd been spying in."

Biting back a laugh, Anna tapped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. "And did you earn her affections once you fell? Surely that got her attention?"

Ben chuckled. "It earned her attention, yes, but unfortunately not her affections… And now I'm forever marked to commemorate the humiliation."

Stooping down, Anna pressed a soft, appeasing kiss to his bicep. "Your poor, wounded pride."

"I've had worse."

"Yes, I'm beginning to think so. Do you remember the time when-?"

Ben clapped a hand over her mouth, causing her to giggle into his palm. "Please no more character assassination," he begged. "We haven't discussed your shortcomings yet at all – scars included – so I'm starting to feel a little put out."

With a grin, Anna pulled his hand from her mouth and agreed, "Very well then. I can be fair and tell a scar story of my own." Lifting her leg, she draped her thigh over Ben's waist and traced her finger along a misshapen, medium-sized mark on her skin. "This is from when I tried to scale neighbor Dodson's fence in a hurry – after he found me petting his sheep, to be exact – and got caught by my skirts."

"Doesn't look like a very ladylike injury," Ben teased, absently stroking his thumb across the scar. "I wish I could've seen you dangling there, arse-out and at God's mercy."

Anna swatted his chest with her open palm. "I was not arse-out! Though I did rip my petticoats. Mama was furious."

"I think I remember that," Ben said after a moment. "You weren't allowed to play with us for two whole weeks."

With a smirk, Anna agreed, "Yes, I thought you might remember. After all, it wasn't too long before I held your hand over-"

"That infernal bee sting. Yes, yes, I know. You certainly like bringing it up enough."

With a mocking pout, Anna leaned forward and pressed a soft, pacifying kiss to the furrow on his brow. "How can I not?" she volleyed. "It was the first time you were ever honest with me…the first time I saw you unafraid of what I might think. I liked that you felt safe enough to cry around me, Ben." Expression softening, she lifted her hand and brushed her thumb against the slope of his cheek. "You can still do that with me, you know. You're allowed to cry, if you need to."

Ben's posture stiffened, startled by the abrupt shift in tone. A slight lump formed in his throat and he swallowed. "I…don't need to," he finally managed to rasp out.

Anna's eyes relayed that she didn't believe him. But rather than berate him for his stubbornness, she gathered him up into her arms, and Ben felt a twinge of remorse for being glad of it – for craving that closeness. Despite the affection he received from his friends, he couldn't recall the last time he'd had a soft, gentle touch. Out on the battlefield, there was nothing but violence and cruelty and sheer ruthlessness. There was no place for softness nor affection, and with Anna's arms encircled around him, he nearly felt undone…unraveled like a useless spool of thread. The lump in his throat was agony, and Ben hated feeling so weak – hated how he wished to cry just because someone was holding him.

Nuzzling into her throat, he squeezed his eyes tightly closed and imagined that some way, somehow, they were together – truly together – and that the world was frozen in time for just the two of them. As Anna's lips grazed his temple, Ben felt a warm, overflowing fondness inside his chest, and realized that his affections were beginning to take root, deep and dangerous and unyielding within his heart.

"Stay," Ben pleaded with her, ignoring the crack in his voice.

Anna kissed him in reply.

A/N: Well, this got angsty again...though in the next chapter, there will be a small time skip to indicate they've been getting it on for several days, so at that point, they'll be more horny than sad, ahem. I'll FINALLY get to write the cravat blindfold stuff I've been dreaming up since CH 2, and I'll be sure to wrangle in Caleb again, seeing how things are always more (awkwardly) fun when he's around.

Anyway, with the "Anna wanting things to hurt" bit, I went for that angle since she always seemed pretty numb to me during the show. It was as if she just settled for what she thought she deserved, or because as a woman, it wasn't really her choice, so that's why I mentioned how she didn't realize she could still feel. I also made a reference to survivalist/Rambo!Ben, because thucydides_groupie and I agreed that it would've been interesting for us to see him treat his OWN wound/forage through the woods, instead of that pointless deviation with Sarah Livingston. Ben mentioned wandering through the woods for a few days in 2x4, so hey, I believe he could! It just would've been nice to actually see.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed! 3 Thanks to those who've stuck with me/commented! :)