Author's Notes…

Sorry for the wait on this chapter, but considering the content, I didn't want to rush it.

THIS CHAPTER IS NOT SAFE FOR WORK. IT MAY CONTAIN LANGUAGE THAT OFFENDS YOU. PLEASE CONTINUE TO READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. I HAVE GIVEN FAIR WARNING.

For Carla

Chocolate

Chapter Thirteen

What Happens in the Office…

"I've—I've got to get to work," Rey managed. It was somewhat disconcerting, the effort required to concentrate on vocalizing words.

"Answer me first." Ben's teeth nibbled delicately along her collarbone.

It was lucky they were in the middle of the park. It required prudent behavior. Otherwise would get the police involved.

Or it was unlucky, her hormones were thinking. It had been so long, and he wanted her so badly, and she certainly wanted him… How wet she was testified to that. It was a dull, insistent ache, one she couldn't ignore for much longer. It was exacerbated as he feathered the tips of his fingers along the backs of her thighs.

You have to answer him, she urged herself. You have to, or he won't stop, and this has to stop—you can't beg off work. You can't afford to get fired.

She had hoped it would sober her up to reality, a plunge of refreshing cold water to remind her of their surroundings and the fact that more people were entering the park. It didn't. Ben was skilled in the art of distraction. That gift for writing went beyond the paper, it would seem.

There was a lump in her throat that didn't wish to budge. Speaking around it was a beast. "Maybe I've—"

He wasn't having any of it. "No maybes," he growled against her neck, drawing shivers down her spine. "Yes or no."

He caressed. It took everything within her to put her hands on her chest and push, and even then, it was with only the lightest of nudges. He let her go—highly reluctantly. She could see it in his eyes. They were on the same page. She'd tell him so to soothe him, but then, she feared, she'd never make it to her job.

"We'll have to discuss it once I get off work," she said, quite raggedly.

Ben didn't comment. His eyes were smoldering, searing through her.

Her throat tightened, threatened to choke her. "Okay?" she squeaked out. "I'll see you after work."

And she jogged off while she still had the willpower to not get arrested for public indecency.

She could feel his eyes on her until she disappeared around the corner.

Rey had a fifteen-minute break between her first and second class, and she used it to check her phone. Her office was in the corner of the fencing room, its blinds drawn. It was a tiny area; however, it was large enough to fit a desk, a cabinet, and a small loveseat. In the end, it left very little walking room. This suited Rey well. She didn't like visitors.

Finn: I met this girl. Can I come by at lunch? I gotta talk about her in person. She's amazing, Rey!

Ben Solo: I need to see you. When can I?

A sense of duty warred with her libido. It had been so long since such a thing had happened that the latter won out.

She responded to Finn first.

Me: How about drinks tonight instead?

And then, to Ben:

Me: I'm free for lunch.

Finn zinged her back pretty much immediately.

Finn: Rey! Come on! You're KILLING me! I need you! You get that dude all week!

Guilt niggled at her like piranha in the Amazon. Or, more accurately where it concerned Finn, like a damn piranha plant in the new Super Mario Bros. games, when one of them would screw up and get their arses munched. Drat. When was the last time they had really sat down and played a good round of video games together?

Me: Damn it, Finn! You're the one who pointed out that I may be in love with Ben Solo!

Finn: I said you are in love with Ben Solo!

Me: Whatever! The point is, I'm trying to work through some stuff, and I only have one lunch break, and some shite when down this morning, and I need to see him! Can we PLEAAASEEEE—

—and she had to fool with autocorrect for a hot minute to get those caps to come out to her satisfaction—

Me: get together tonight for drinks!

Finn: FINE! BUT YOU OWE ME!

Me: I do! Big! Thank you, Finn!

Finn: Her name is Rose. She's so sweet.

The clang of one épée smacking against another greeted her ears, and she groaned.

Freshmen.

She kicked open her door and stuck her head around it. "CLASS HAS NOT BEGUN!" she bellowed, tossing her phone on her desk and forgetting about it. "Put those down before you poke an eye out!"

A jock's guffawing was met with a smattering of applause.

Gits.

There was one more class until lunch, and Rey expected to find at least one message from Ben on her mobile. What she'd received in excess instead was Finn's ramblings on a girl named Rose.

Rose was an interesting name. Very… flowery, of course. Different from what Rey was dealing with. Finn didn't date often, and when he did, the women he chose were—well. Rey minded her own business. "Lively" would be an understatement, and it would be putting it nicely. Their names were often exotic, and they'd string Finn along for weeks before dumping him as quickly as they'd arrived. A whirlwind romance, Rey had taken calling them to herself. She never intervened. No, she only comforted him in the emotionally gory aftermath.

Finn: She's a mechanic.

Not a dancer from Ibiza, crashing at his flat for a month, wracking up parties and noise violations that almost lost him the place.

Finn: She's only a couple years younger than me.

Therefore, a couple of years older than Rey.

Finn: I really can't wait for you to meet her!

Rey smiled. Honestly, there wasn't any possible way to keep it from her lips. No matter where his heart led him, a happy Finn was a luminous thing, and intoxicating at that. Finn held that power over people, the ability to sway their moods, to attune them to the level of his heart. It was a bloody good thing he was oblivious to it.

Me: I'm happy for you. Where do you want to meet tonight? The usual?

Finn: Yeah!

Ten more texts followed in rapid succession, and Rey put down her phone to read them later. If she wanted that drink and a snack she had set out for, she didn't have time for it. She tucked her mobile away in her desk drawer and reached behind the desk itself for the mini fridge to crack open a flavored water and grab some carrot sticks.

By the time lunch arrived, she was in a foul mood. Not only had her thoughts kept straying to that morning in the park, her third class wasn't full of the sharpest minds. Winding through all of that were the last three months of Ben. All the mornings she'd seen his groggy smile, all the evenings she'd elicited a laugh from him, all the naps she'd taken on his shoulder. And what of that first night, when she'd so brazenly done shots with him? She could still taste the lime and tequila, the salt of his skin…

Sexually frustrated. There was no other way to spin it.

She could barely recall that night, and it'd probably always remain that way, given that it had been close to six months, and there were giant holes in her memory about it. Flashes here and there, the last she'd received when she'd been introduced to his study. Now, granted, she'd avoided going into his room… it was possible something remained in there to shake remnants of that night free, yet she doubted it. Strongly.

Hadn't it been long enough? Sex she couldn't even remember! And, God, Ben's body—pressed to hers like that, a second skin as it were, there that morning in the park… The evidence of his arousal… The perfect musculature of him… The way she'd wanted to run her hands all over him, ending with grabbing his cock, and—

His husky voice, in her ear—

Her body had been a continual throbbing, uncomfortable mess all day.

She made her way to her office and unearthed her mobile. She'd message Ben, find out what he wanted to do for lunch. Her heart fell somewhat when she saw a zillion more texts from Finn and none from Ben. It didn't mean anything, she reassured herself. He was likely waiting on her direction. She'd left him in the park.

Her office door slammed open.

The rudeness stiffened her back. "Excuse me, you could knock—"

"I'm not knocking," an all too familiar voice growled.

Liquid heat twanged through her stomach and down to her core.

Then Ben was on her, arms snagging under her thighs as he lifted her and smashed her against the door, closing it with their combined weight. His mouth seized hers, his tongue darting past her lips and dominating hers with a fire she couldn't hope to stop—didn't want to stop. Christ, every time she thought he couldn't possibly get hotter, he proved her wrong.

"Make a decision," he ordered, one large hand holding her up while the other worked on getting her athletic pants and panties off her rear. "Right now."

She locked the door. "Yes."

"Yes, what?" He bit at her neck, suckled her flesh until she cried out. His fingers found the heat between her thighs and stroked vigorously.

Oh, fuck.

"Yes, I changed my mind. Yes—"

He slid a finger inside of her.

"That's not going to be enough," she groaned.

"Funny, that's what you said the last time, too," he murmured.

Two more joined the first, and she had to bite back her cries. She was wet enough that he didn't have to stretch her very much before the friction was so good that she was grinding down against it. His mouth attacked hers, and she met it head-on, her hands jerking to get the belt on his jeans open. She wanted what was inside more than she wanted to breathe.

"I don't have the patience for slow," she panted, trembling. She got her hand inside his jeans, her fingers curling around him. What she found had her cunt clenching around his fingers as she grew positively drenched. He smothered a moan on her shoulder around a bite. "I need you now."

The next thing she knew, her back was bouncing on the couch. He was above her soon after, settling between her thighs. He jerked one up around his hip after yanking her pants the rest of the way off, taking her shoes and socks with them. She was too excited by the prospect of what was about to happen to be embarrassed about her body. She snatched his shirt in her hands and yanked him down to her.

"What part of now didn't you understand?" she growled.

"Feisty," he said, as breathless as she.

His head caught on her entrance.

Their eyes met.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his chest rising and falling heavily. His lips were dark, bruised from their kissing. His hair was tousled, his shirt crumpled. She could tell he was barely holding back from claiming her, that it was taking all he had to be a gentleman with her, even here.

"Get. In. Me," she hissed, appreciating the sentiment all the same.

Ben braced himself on the loveseat, gripped her hip, kissed her soundly, and pushed in.

Oh—

Bloody—

Hell—

She bit the inside of her lip to stifle a groan, her eyes rolling back in her head as it tipped back. He used this opportunity to rain kisses on her neck as he slid in inch by precious, delicious inch. Her body welcomed him in heady rushes, and she had to grip onto his flexed biceps, gasping as her core stretched around him.

"Oh, fuck, Rey," he moaned into her ear. His lips were loving, sweet, contrasting with the sudden absence of his cock. She mewled in protest, only to dig her nails into his chest when he thrust back into her to the hilt, jolting her entire body on the loveseat. It stole the air from her lungs.

"You're beautiful," he murmured over and over again as he set up that wonderfully brutal place that made her cling to him. "You're so fucking beautiful…"

She buried her face in his neck.

Ben rubbed at her clit. "I'm not going to last long. I haven't been with anyone since that night."

Tears unexpectedly touched her lashes. He hadn't?

Rey kissed him hard, and when she crested moments later, spilling fluid over his fingers, the cry he attempted to muffle was hoarse. Her cunt was tight around him, slick heat, milking him for all he was worth. He had to withdraw with a choked, almost boyish sound, holding onto his cock as he jerked it, his seed splattering over her stomach.

"Shit," he cursed, his head bowed, his hair hanging into his face.

She collapsed into the cushions, dizzy with… with everything she didn't want to admit.

Everything she could see in his eyes as they met hers once more.

She wasn't sure she could handle it if he said it right now.

And Rey could only think of one way in that moment to head it off without disaster striking.

"Let's be together," she choked out.

That, she wanted. That, she could handle.

"In a relationship," she clarified, since he was staring at her like he wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly. And, when he continued to stare, "Monogamous."

More staring.

She stirred anxiously. Had she misread the situation…?

"You and me? The two of us, together, not sharing each other—?"

She broke off.

He was kissing her too fiercely for her to answer, and she chuckled through it, because she knew that was a yes, and she knew they were both happy, and she knew that was everything.