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brewsterispunkk · 2 years

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PART SEVEN: KISS HER, YOU FOOL

pairing: benny miller x reader, benny miller x virgin!reader

WC: 6.3k

warnings: 18+, smut! (wrap it up, folks), dirty talk, talk of virginity, loss of virginity

summary: benny finds something out about you, and makes an offer.

A/N: it’s here. y’all have waited long enough. also please note I’ve never written smut before so if u hate it please let me know LOL. without further ado:

PART SEVEN: KISS HER, YOU FOOL

You didn’t remember high school with much fondness. Surprising, you know.

The fact was, in high school you didn’t do much more than try to keep yourself afloat academically. When you weren’t in class or studying, you were at rehearsal or choir practice, and when you weren’t there were trailing after Joy or Leda or Rosie. That, combined with your mother’s overbearing nature, meant that what most other people experienced in high school, you missed out on.

You went to school dances, but only with your friends (which you’d been assured was more fun anyway). You’d gone to parties, mostly as a designated driver for Joy, but you always refused to drink, no matter how many were offered to you. You always had an excuse: you were driving that night, or you didn’t like tequila, or the guy handing you the drink was a known creep. Whatever it was, you didn’t have your first drink until after you graduated, which was fine by you.

You didn’t smoke weed until your senior year of college, when Rosie was home for Christmas and you’d all decided “fuck it, let’s smoke.” It’d been hilarious, the three of you laughing obnoxiously at some obscure Disney movie, as Leda shook her head fondly from the couch, bent over the sweater she was knitting for Joy’s cat. It was what made you realize that you didn’t really mind being a late bloomer. Not when you got moments like this. Besides, it mattered who you were with, not what you were doing. In your opinion, anyway.

When you were a Freshman in High School, you went on your first date.

It was with Gordon Schlepp, and half-way through the movie he took you to, he tried to put his hand up your skirt.

You’d smacked his hand away and raced from the theater before he could get a word in edgewise. When your mother had picked you up 30 minutes later, your face was streaked with tears and you swore that you wouldn’t date another boy until you were grown up and out of high school. You’d kept that promise.

So, yes. It was safe to say that you were something of a late bloomer, and for the most part you were okay with that. But.

Throughout college, you’d had the odd boyfriend here and there, and a girlfriend or two, but none that had stuck. And while you were certainly no blushing maiden when it came to matters of sex and sexual pleasure, you still hadn’t fully… debuted. You just never got around to it, or at least that’s what you told yourself. There had just always seemed like there were things that were more important, or that the time wasn’t right.

You had come close a few times, but had changed your mind for one reason or another. Once, a guy you’d been dating for six months had blown up on you when you’d told him you weren’t ready to have sex. He’d confessed that he’d been cheating anyway. Another time, when you’d told the boy you’d been seeing that you were a virgin he’d run for the hills then, breaking up with you on the spot. Since then, you’d decided to keep the virgin card close to your chest when it came to relationships of any kind–not just romantic ones. The people you dated didn’t need to know until the time came (if the time came), and you told yourself that the people that mattered wouldn’t care.

You hoped so anyway.

You weren’t in a hurry. You honestly believed that the whole concept and stress on virginity was bullshit anyway. Your sexual experience, or lack thereof, held no weight on who you were as a person, so why should it matter? It didn’t make you any more or less juvenile than anyone else. In your mind, it was something that would happen when it was time, when you were ready, and when you wanted it. Until then, you didn’t stress yourself out about it much.

Until Benny.

- - - -

“Oh come on.” Benny droned from beside you on the couch, spread out with one knee crossed under him.

You snorted from beside him, taking a bite of the Ben and Jerry’s you knew he kept in his freezer just for you, no matter how many times he claimed otherwise.

“What?” You asked amusedly, licking your spoon clean.

It had been a little over a week since you, Benny, Santi, and Everett had moved Benny back into his lead paint-free apartment. The three of you had also convinced Benny to let you help him decorate the place, as before, the apartment had only the essentials. It was a bachelor-pad in every sense; lacking in any character. The only signs that a person, not a robot, lived there were a few photos of Benny and the guys sitting on his bookshelf, and the polaroid of the two of you from Alma’s birth stuck to the fridge with a magnet. A trip to HomeGoods and a few thrift stores, as well as Lowe’s for some houseplants, had brightened the place up and had it looking more lived-in than sterile.

“Nothing, that’s just so unrealistic.” He nodded to the couple on the T. V.

It was movie night, and it had been Benny’s turn to pick. Per usual, he’d chosen a feel-good, low budget rom-com from the early 2000s. He loved rom-coms unashamedly, something the guys snorted at. To you, though, it helped you understand him just a little bit better. One of the first times you’d spent time with him, you asked him if he was a romantic. He’d said, “I used to be.” At the time, you’d thought it was sad, heartbreaking that someone so kind as him had been scarred by the world so much. Now though, with months and months of friendship at your back, you saw that he had been lying; No matter how much he tried to deny it, he was a romantic at heart.

“Like, when would that ever happen?” Benny asked. You set your attention back to the film.

The two leads, who had been sneaking around their workplace to hide their forbidden relationship, had just slinked into a janitor’s closet for a sneaky hook-up. You rolled your eyes at Benny.

“I don’t know,” you tilted your head at the screen. “You’d be surprised what people will do to avoid H. R.”

“Oh my god,” Benny threw his head back and laughed, a big, booming thing that filled up your whole chest. “Last week, Lance got reported to H. R. Apparently he, like, wouldn’t stop propositioning Krista.”

“Ew,” you wrinkled your nose. “Did he get fired?”

“‘Unpaid leave,’” Benny used air-quotes. “Whatever the hell that means. I hope they fire him, though.”

“He’s had it coming for a while, it seems.”

“Yeah, that’s the understatement of the year.” He rolled his eyes. “He’s such a creep.”

“I remember.” You agreed. A few months ago, when Benny’s truck was in the shop, you’d gone to the gym to pick him up and had, unfortunately, encountered Lance. In the fifteen minutes that you’d had to wait for Benny, Lance had managed to ask you out, leer at you, and make a comment about your breasts. You thought that that must be some kind of record. “He creeped me out when I met him.”

“Yeah,” Benny’s expression moved from annoyed to deadly. “I almost beat his ass for that, even before you told me what he said.”

“What do you mean?” You looked at him, puzzled.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he said nonchalantly, eyes focused on the television once more. Your heart stuttered, and a thrill shot through your gut.

You cursed yourself for it. You hated that a phrase that was so possessive could have that effect on you. If you’d heard those words from anyone else, you would’ve been livid. After all, you were your own person; a woman grown. You’d made your own way in the world without a man looking out for you or dictating who could or could not look at you. But this was Benny. And something about those words coming out of his mouth set off something primal in you.

“Well,” you coughed, cursing yourself for your awkwardness. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way around H.R. Guys like him always do.”

“Yeah.” he agreed. A beat passed before he turned to you, eyes alight with mischief. “Wait,” he said. “How do you know so much about this? Are you in a secret office romance?”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning towards you. You rolled your eyes, pushing him away, a laugh on your lips.

“You know that my love life is depressing as hell, Ben,” you gave him a knowing look. He chuckled at that. “Actually—and you didn’t hear this from me—Jen and Robb are hooking up and she’s been telling me all about how she’s avoiding telling H.R.”

“Ha,” Benny laughed. “How long do you think until she gets caught?”

“You know Jen,” you tilted your head at him. “She can’t keep a secret to save her life. I give it a month, tops.”

“That’s being generous,” he countered. “I give it two weeks.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

You both turned back to the screen, the conversation having easily tapered off.

A few minutes later came the dramatic, romantic love confession characteristic of all romantic comedies. The male lead had confessed his undying love for his lover on the rooftop of their work building, the lights of New York City in the background. Finally was the passionate kiss, with the cheesiest instrumental you’d ever heard overtop. The camera panned out to the night sky, as the two collapsed into each other’s arms, clothes falling away on the rooftop.

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “That is absolutely disgusting.”

“Honestly, I mean how much was their budget? That was awful.” Benny snorted beside you.

“It’s so unsanitary.”

“What?” Benny laughed, turning to you. You looked at him like he’d grown three heads.

“Them fucking on that nasty rooftop,” you clarified. “I mean, a janitor’s closet is one thing, but a rooftop? In New York? That’s vile.”

Benny raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’d be surprised where people will fuck if the, ahem, need arises.” Benny said matter-of-factly.

“I don’t even wanna know what you mean by that.” You laughed at him.

“Okay. It was one time, when I was like, 20, and the bathroom wasn’t even that gross–”

“---what part of ‘I don’t want to know’ did you not understand?”

“Oh shut up,” he laughed, shoving your shoulder. “Like you’ve never hooked up in a bar bathroom before.”

“I haven’t!” You shoved him right back. “Benny, that's disgusting.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he nudged you with the shoulder that was now pressed against yours.

“I will not,” you shook your head obstinately. “That’s fucking vile.”

“Alright,” he turned to you. Your gaze met his, the movie long forgotten. “Where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex then?”

You opened your mouth for a moment, before snapping it shut, eyes narrowing to slits. What was he getting at here?

You shook your head at him, a nervous laugh escaping you.

“Come on, I told you mine!” He laughed. “It can’t be worse than a seedy bar bathroom.”

A familiar seed of anxiety bloomed in your chest, panicking. Your eyes darted away from his playful gaze.

“Benny–”

“Oh my god, is it worse than that?”

“No, I–”

“It is!” He laughed. “Now you have to tell me!”

“Benny.” You said his name a bit more firmly, your eyes not meeting his, instead choosing to focus on a spot on the wall.

“I don’t have any.” Your eyes met his, where confusion lurked.

Oh God, you were gonna have to spell it out for him. You sighed.

“I’m a virgin,” you said it harshly. Plain as day.

He looked at you sarcastically.

“Yeah, sure, fine. Don’t tell me.”

When you were silent, he looked at you again with disbelief, understanding finally crossing his face. His eyes widened.

“No fucking way.” He squinted for a moment, before barking out a laugh, throwing his head back with his hands over his eyes.

“Thanks Ben,” you said prickly, voice sharp, before leaning over to grab your bag from where it sat on the floor beside the couch.

You felt your eyes burn, that familiar pit of shame blooming in your chest.

Of course, you thought. Why had you thought he would react any differently?

You had let your guard down and it had happened again. You could handle many things, but Benny looking at you like you were pathetic was not one of them. You felt the humiliation like a pit in your stomach, and moved to get up, eager to leave, to just get out of this situation.

“Look, I’m gonna go–” you began softly, but Benny’s warm hand on your forearm stopped you.

“No, wait honey.” He said, voice easy. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…surprising.”

“Why is that so surprising, Ben?” You asked defensively. “I didn’t think you’d care so much, it’s not a big deal.”

“I don’t.” He affirmed. The two of you were now sitting cross-legged facing each other on the couch. The movie was nothing more than a buzz in the background.

“Then why did you laugh?”

“It’s not–you–I didn’t mean,” Benny cut himself off with a groan. “You’re just.”

He stopped himself again. You raised your eyebrows.

“I’m what?”

“You’re…” he trailed off. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. You knew what he must’ve been thinking.

“I’m pathetic, naive, childish–”

“You’re gorgeous.” The passion and bluntness with which he said it stole your words. You gaped at him. He continued.

“You’re stunning. You’re smart, and funny, and kind, and fucking beautiful, and I guess I just find that hard to believe.”

“I–thanks.” you said lamely, feeling your cheeks burning. “I’m not like, saving myself or anything. It’s not for lack of trying.”

“What do you mean?” He looked puzzled. You sighed.

“I didn’t do anything in high school. But in college, I had boyfriends, girlfriends, and every time I came close, I just… couldn’t.”

“Huh,” he said. “Are you scared or something?”

“No,” you laughed. “I guess I just never liked anyone enough. And once when I did think I was ready and told the guy, he backed out.”

“What, why?” Benny asked like it was the most absurd thing he’d heard.

“Something about how ‘pathetic it was to be a 21-year-old virgin,’”

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Benny said. “Like, a complete idiot. I do not know of one guy who wouldn’t jump at an opportunity like that. No offense.”

You laughed. “Gross, Ben.”

“I’m just sayin’” He shrugged.

Okay, you told yourself. Okay, this is fine.

You felt your chest relax a little bit. You’d hoped Benny would be fine with it, that he wouldn’t be weird, but in the back of your head you’d always dreaded this conversation. He’d proved what you already knew, though. That he was a good person, and an even better friend. He wouldn’t judge you for something like this.

“I honestly just wanna get it over with,” you said blandly, spooning another bite of ice cream into your mouth. “I almost did get it over with, about a month ago.”

“What?” Benny looked at you with disbelief. “With tinder guy?”

“Uh…” you winced, already knowing what his reaction was going to be. “Yeah.”

It was true; and you weren’t proud of it. You’d had tinder downloaded since your first month in Florida, but hadn’t used it much since you had bet Benny and the guys. But, after a particular movie night with Benny about a month back, where he’d fallen asleep on your shoulder and you’d been faced with how good he smelled for a whole evening, you got back on and messaged a match.

The date had been fine. Mediocre at best, but he was good looking enough, and he’d made his intentions to take you home with him abundantly clear. And you needed a distraction. Though you talked a lot of shit about virginity not mattering much to you, god, were you ready to lose it. It had begun to feel like some dark cloud over your head, like a scarlet letter. Perhaps it was because you had been living in such close quarters with Benny, or maybe it was some type of hormonal thing, but either way: you were pent up. That was the best way of putting it. So, you’d decided fuck it, let’s get it over with. And you almost had, until he’d had his hand in your pants and the only thing you could think about was Benny.

Benny’s smile, Benny’s voice, Benny’s hands.

You couldn’t go through with it. Benny made a disgusted noise. You glared at him.

“What?” He asked. “He was gross.”

“He wasn’t!”

“He had a pony-tail!” He looked at you like you were crazy. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Why though?” Benny asked. “You said the date wasn’t even that good.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “When I said I really want to get it over with, I meant I really want to get it over with, Ben.”

A beat of silence passed, but not an uncomfortable one. Benny was carefully considering his words. You could practically hear him thinking. You could feel the heat of his arm against yours through your shirt, his hip pressed against yours.

“So why do you think you couldn’t go through it, then?” he asked, voice gentle. It was so different from the teasing tone in which the two of you had been joking a few moments ago that you almost laughed. But one look into his eyes stole any amusement from your mind. His deep eyes bored into yours.

“It’s like,” you began, before stopping, turning to face him again. “It’s like, I want to lose it, right? Like I want to have sex, trust me. I just don’t know if I can do it with a complete stranger.”

You missed the way Benny’s eyes flashed at that statement.

His mouth opened to respond, but you weren’t done. The words kept coming.

“I want it to be with someone I trust and who I care about, but by the time I’ll get there in, like, any relationship, they’ll already be expecting sex, or if they’re not, then it will just scare them away.”

By the end, your tone had changed from normal to frustrated. Because that’s what you were: frustrated. In every sense. And the man sitting next to you with wide eyes and red cheeks was doing nothing to help that.

For a moment, the two of you sat there in silence.

“Sorry,” you said lamely. “That was a lot, I know.”

“No!” Benny said a little too loudly, before coughing under his breath, and repeating, “no. No, you’re fine, honey.”

“I just wish I could get it over with.”

What he said next stole your breath from your lungs.

“I could do it.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, studying your face calmly. Your mouth fell half open.

A pregnant silence followed, as you gaped, completely at a loss for words.

“You—what?”

“I said, I could do it.” His eyes lacked any of the usual humor—he was serious about this. “You said you wanted to get it out of the way, right?”

“I–well, yeah, but–”

“We don’t have to, honey. Say the word and we can put on another movie and forget this conversation ever happened. But the offer’s there.”

“You–you would do that?” You sputtered. You felt like you’d been hit with a truck at this offer. Until twenty minutes ago, you had no idea Benny even thought you were pretty, now he was offering to take your virginity, and give you what you’d been dreaming about for months.

“Would I do that?” Benny repeated your question to you incredulously. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them, a quiet determination in them. “I would’ve done that the day I met you, honey.”

Your breath stuttered. You just looked at him with wide eyes, flabbergasted, a familiar pulse of desire in your gut. Your heart was in your throat as you considered it.

Did you want this? Obviously, you did. It was practically all you’d been thinking about for months. You couldn’t remember the amount of times that you’d accidentally almost called out Benny’s name during the early hours of the morning with your hand between your legs. He’d gotten under your skin—so much that he might as well have made a home there. What you felt for him was unparalleled to anything you’d felt for anyone in your entire life. So much so that not only the thought of sex with him, but the thought of everything with him was all that you wanted. You’d gotten only a small taste of what it would be like to be with Benny Miller and the thought of going the rest of your life without it made your heart ache. If he was giving you this; another small piece of what it was to be with him, you would take it. Even if it just meant he was doing you a favor.

Benny took your silence for discomfort and cleared his throat, scooting a few inches away from you.

“It’s alright, we can forget this ever happened—”

“No!” You said a bit too forcefully, practically leaping at him. Your hands found his shoulders, and you were sat on your knees beside him on the couch. His eyes widened a bit and his hands went to your waist to steady you so you didn’t fall onto him. Your face was closer to his than it had been since that night at Mikey’s party. You could see the light, barely-there freckles dusting his nose and cheeks as he furrowed his brows at you skeptically.

“Are you sure, honey? We don’t have to—”

Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed his cheek and pressed your lips to his, catching him by surprise. For a moment, he just sat there, unmoving, taken aback by the gesture. But after a second of shock, he melted.

His lips parted beneath your own, and he sighed, the sound sending shivers down your spine, a familiar fluttering feeling in your gut. His hands around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer, a small sound escaping from the back of his throat. Almost roughly, he pulled you into his lap, your legs parting to straddle him. His hand moved to your face, angling your head more towards him, his tongue parting your lips ever so slightly, before he pulled back.

“God,” he rumbled, voice deeper than usual. He squeezed your hips as his forehead fell against yours, leaning into you. “I wanted to be the one to do that.”

You laughed lightly, looking into his eyes, which were softly and amusedly trained on you.

“Do it, then.” You challenged, shifting your hips just barely. His grip tightened. It surprised you how easy this was: the banter. Here you were, sitting on your best friend’s lap, face flushed, all hot-and-bothered, and it wasn’t weird. Not in the slightest. If anything, this felt natural.

You continued, the teasing too tempting to pass up. “Or not, if you’re too scared—mmph.”

His lips against yours cut you off. And god, it was sinful.

Benny knew how to kiss. He angled you just perfectly toward him, a hand on your cheek and another around your waist. You melted into him, your arm reaching, grasping around his back, your other sliding into his always-messy hair. He breathed you in, kissing you with such passion that you felt your heart stutter. You bent like a tree in the wind, leaning into him. His mouth parted yours gently, his tongue coming to slide against yours fiercely, sinfully. His hands moved to your torso, smoothing, feeling up your waist. When he pulled you closer, you felt a firmness against your sex from where you sat pressed to his front, evidence that he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Not being able to help yourself, you pressed your hips further down, a moan escaping you from the friction.

Benny moaned in response, jerking at the movement, his hands coming down to squeeze your hips, your ass. He broke apart, panting.

“This okay?” He asked, out of breath, kissing you quickly on the lips while he spoke. You hummed, his lips moving to the corner of your mouth and then down your jaw.

“Baby,” he breathed. “Is this okay?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course that’s what he was concerned about right now. Ever the gentleman, Benny was.

His hands started to move northward, away from your ass, but you reached back and planted them firmly back in place. You leaned back, looking him in the eyes. His were hooded, almost delirious as they stared into yours. You gave him a deep, slow kiss on the lips before pulling back just barely.

“Yes, Benjamin.” you teased. “This is more than okay.”

He made a small noise in the back of his throat before pulling you closer, lips meeting yours again, grinding you in his lap with a newfound fervor. You moaned into his mouth, hips rolling to meet his. The friction was growing between your legs, your breath deepening.

If this had happened in any other situation, you would have been mortified. Here you were, grinding on your best friend’s lap, about to come in your pants like a teenager. But, this was Benny. You didn’t think you could be embarrassed with him even if you tried.

Benny’s mouth moved down to your chin, your jawline, your neck, pressing deep, wet kisses there. When he found a particular spot under your jaw, you jolted, a barely-there squeak leaving your throat. Benny stopped, and you could feel his lips curling against your neck as he sucked harder on the spot.

A louder moan left you, and you smacked his shoulder, causing him to chuckle.

“Not nice,” you panted out with no real venom, eyes closed, head tipped back.

“Hmm,” Benny hummed, head coming up to kiss you messily on the mouth. “Too bad. I’m never letting you live that down.”

You threw your head back in a laugh, before he resumed his ministrations on your neck, causing your breath to falter.

He continued down your neck, drawing multiple such sounds out of you. You had no doubt that you’d have multiple marks there tomorrow.

After a particularly strong roll of your hips against his, Benny grasped them firmly, halting your movement. An almost pained sound escaped him. You pulled back from his lips, eyes hooded. His face was tinged red, and his lips were as flushed as you imagined yours were.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, nose brushing his.

“Honey,” he chuckled a bit, shaking his head against your forehead. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to come in my pants and this is gonna be over quick.”

Your breath stuttered, and your stomach did a somersault, surging with pride that it was you that had him in this state. You that got to see him like this.

“Oh,” you just breathed. His hands tightened on your waist, his pinkies toying with the edge of your shorts.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, looking into your eyes. “Are we really gonna do this?”

“I’m sure.” You said steadily, no nerves betraying you because you didn’t have any. You’d never been more sure of anything in your whole life. “Are you? If you don’t want to–”

“Baby,” he groaned. “Believe me, I want to. I just want to make sure you are sure—”

“Benny.” You grabbed either side of his face. “I’ve never been more sure.” Your eyes held his for a moment, but he still looked skeptical.

Damn him and his noble pretenses, you thought.

“But,” you continued. “If you’re bailing I could always call tinder guy again–”

“No,” he said in a tone that sent your stomach fluttering. He pulled you that much closer. You giggled, brushing his hair back from his forehead, a lovesick expression on your face. You were too giddy to hide it, though.

You kissed his lips, then his chin, then his jaw, letting your hand wander down his torso to his hips. His breathing shallowed as you did, his head leaning back. When you squeezed him through his jeans, he hissed, groaning, before his hand shot down to remove yours. You pulled back, confused, afraid you’d overstepped.

“Not yet, honey.” He said, palming the side of your face. Your brows furrowed. “If we’re gonna do this, I’m gonna have to open you up for me first.”

“Okay,” you replied shakily. Benny smiled at you slyly.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, sliding you closer on his lap. “Relax, honey.” He purred, undoing the tie on your lounge shorts. “We can stop whenever you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t wanna, agh!”

His hand between your legs cut you off. You let out a strangled cry, grabbing his shoulder.

“Shhh,” he mumbled into your ear, head bowing down to your neck to press lazy kisses there again. “You’re too tense, baby. Relax for me.”

You let out a deep breath as he stroked between your legs at the slick that had gathered there.

“That's it,” he hummed, biting your neck a bit. “You’re so wet, honey. Is this all for me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his finger stroking up your slit to your clit stopped you, the only sound escaping your lips a heady moan.

“There it is,” he mumbled, focusing more on the spot. You moaned into his neck, just as he pushed one finger into you. “That feel okay, baby?”

It wasn’t an intrusion, you were used to as much when you touched yourself.

“Yeah,” you breathed more than said. “More, Benny.”

He hummed, pushing another finger in. It was a stretch, but not an uncomfortable one. All the while, his thumb was stroking your slit and around your clit. You began to move your hips in time with his hand, your breathing growing deeper.

“That’s it honey,” Benny kissed your neck. “You’re doing so well. Think you can take another one?”

You hummed affirmatively, and just as his third finger breached you, his thumb pressed down on your clit. You came with a jerk against his chest, a wrecked, debauched sound leaving your throat. Benny let you ride it out, stroking slower, whispering little praises into your ear.

“That’s it, baby. You did so good.” He kissed the side of your head, your cheeks, your lips. “Make the prettiest sounds.”

You pressed your face into the side of his neck, catching your breath, when he delicately removed his hand from your pants. You whined noncommittally, boneless, practically draped over Benny. He chuckled, and leaned you back, before bringing his hand up to his lips and sucking the fingers clean.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I knew you would taste good.”

Your mouth fell open. If he were any other person, you would’ve been disgusted, but Benny managed to make cleaning your mess off his hands the most sexy thing you’d ever seen.

Without thinking you blurted, “can we have sex now?” Your voice more than a little breathless.

Benny just laughed, pressing his face to yours in a messy, dirty kiss. When he pulled away, your breath was short again.

“We can do that, honey.” His eyes glittered with mirth as he said it, and before you knew it, his hands were around your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder. You shrieked, surprised by the sudden flip.

“Benny!” You said as he got up, walking down the hall. “Put me down.”

He lightly smacked your thigh, laughing as he barreled toward the bedroom. You laughed in response, knowing that you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk anyway after what had just transpired on the couch.

- - - -

When you got to the bedroom, he threw you on the bed.

You laughed, leaning back on your hands. Benny threw off his shirt, before falling on the bed with you, lips meeting yours, a push and pull. You leaned up, pushing him to sit down and moving to sit on his lap once again.

He grunted when you reached down, popping the button on his jeans and reaching into his boxers.

When your hand circled the hard length of him, he let out a pained, raw moan, kissing your neck. As you stroked up and down, he kissed you deeper, biting you whenever you squeezed especially hard.

Yeah, you were definitely going to have marks tomorrow, you thought. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

As his breathing grew more rushed, you felt something warm leaking from him. You brushed your thumb over the tip of him, wiping it away and stroking harder.

“Hmmph,” he moaned painfully, pulling your hand out of his pants. He pressed his forehead to yours, catching his breath. “You’ve gotta stop that.”

You laughed, choosing to be bold. You reached behind you and pulled the top of your T-shirt over your head, knowing you were wearing nothing underneath.

Benny just stared at you, opened mouth, as sat in front of him, your bare breasts on full display.

“Lay down. Now.” he finally said, leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, falling back onto the bed, and as soon as you did, he pounced.

He fell over you, groaning as his bare chest pressed to yours.

He kissed you fiercely, his lips immediately separating yours with his tongue. You moaned at the force of it all. His hands moved down to your chest, palming and squeezing them lightly. He groaned as he separated from you.

“God, you’re trying to kill me.” He said matter-of-factly, moving to kiss down your collarbones. “How are you so perfect?”

You let out a breathy laugh, your head falling back as he began to kiss down your breast.

“I’m not–” you began half-heartedly, before he stopped you.

“You are.” He affirmed, kissing your sternum. “You’re strong, sexy, and soft. I can’t believe I get to have this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the reverence in his voice. Ditto, you wanted to say.

“Benny,” you mumbled instead. He hummed in affirmation. “Take off your pants.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled. He pulled off his pants and boxers in one foul swoop, as you shimmied out of your own shorts.

You grabbed him, stroking up and down, opening your legs for him to fit between them.

“Honey,” he breathed against your face. “Are you—”

“If you ask me if I’m sure one more time, I’m going to punch you, Benny.”

He laughed, kissing your lips and your cheek, before grabbing at your waist.

“I’ll go slow,” He said earnestly, leaning over you, already lined up between your legs. You nodded, kissing the side of his head, right beside his eye, as he pushed in.

The stretch wasn’t painful. It wasn’t even uncomfortable as much as it was foreign, a new weight in your hips, stretching you a bit. Your brows furrowed as he slowly pushed in. He kissed you there, asking if it hurt. When you shook your head and urged him on, he made the final thrust, until he was fully seated inside you.

He lay still for a moment. When your walls fluttered, he groaned, his forehead falling to yours.

“You ok?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yeah.”

“You feel perfect, honey,” he said, shimmying his hips to get you used to him a bit. You moaned lightly at the feeling, never having felt so full, so close to another person. “Better than I imagined. Like you were made for me.”

The line sent a thrill of possessiveness through you.

Yes, you thought. Mine. He’s mine and I’m his.

He had imagined you like you’d imagined him? You mentally kicked yourself, realizing that this could have happened weeks ago if you’d only known.

“You,” you began breathily, “you imagined me?”

Benny huffed a laugh into your neck, like he genuinely thought what you said was funny.

“Every damn day,” he said with finality, before shifting a bit.

“You okay if I move?” He asked, voice strained. You nodded, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yes,” you moaned.

You looked at him, eyes glazed over, face flushed, brows drawn together in pleasure, and felt your climax building. You began to move your hips against his gently, still not fully used to the intrusion but also wanting more friction. As if sensing it, Benny’s hand moved down between your legs to touch you there while his own thrusts picked up speed.

You moaned around him, your muscles clenching. He reacted as if he was struck, leaning more of his weight over you, moaning wantonly.

“God, baby.” He half-spoke, half-moaned. He gripped your hips tighter. “I’m not going to last.”

“That’s okay,” you panted, nails scratching his scalp. You felt him shiver against you. “It’s okay, just come, Benny.”

His fingers began to move more purposefully, and you felt that familiar chord snap in you, your second release of the night coming. As if spurred on by yours, Benny’s hips thrusted twice more, before he came with a shudder and a moan.

After a moment to come down, he kissed you again, this one less rushed than the others, but just as messy. His lips parted yours, his tongue sliding against yours. He cupped your face with pure adoration. After, he pulled away to look at you with so much love in his eyes that it made your breath hitch.

“Was that okay?” He asked, still out of breath. He was leaning his chin on your chest. You looked down at him and laughed.

“You mean I could’ve been doing that this whole time?”

It was his turn to laugh, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. Against your will, you yawned. He hummed, sidling up behind you and wrapping you in his arms.

That night, you fell asleep just like you had countless others, the only notable difference being the lack of fabric separating Benny’s beating heart from yours.

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