19. Chapter 19

Seff is looking at her, his question hanging in the air and his eyes hopeful and earnest.

Everyone is looking at her, his housemates and hers deathly quiet. Tallie and Jess are grinning like maniacs. Finn and Rose— who know her better than anyone else— are watching with skeptical interest.

They're all waiting for her answer.

Rey blinks at Seff, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind a mile a minute. Each strand too scattered to focus on for long.

She hates attention. People are probably wondering what Seff sees in her. Wondering what it is about her that makes him think she would be a suitable date. At this very moment she is being taken apart, every single one of her flaws scrutinized.

She wishes he hadn't asked her in front of their classmates.

Even if he hadn't though— if this had been a private conversation— would she have said yes?

Does she want to go with him to the Celestial Ball?

What would Solo think?

"I'm— I'm not sure," Rey stammers out. "If I'll go to the ball, that is."

"Rey, what are you doing?" Tallie hisses, only to be shushed by Jess, who seems to display at least some situational awareness.

"Oh." Seff's face turns even redder, his posture caving in on itself. "Well— that's all right—"

"I can give it a think?" Rey says hurriedly. "I mean— you did kind of take me by surprise here, mate."

Seff grimaces, shooting a baleful glance at his friends who are now determinedly avoiding eye contact. "They convinced me it would be more romantic this way."

Romantic— good Lord.

"Well, it's not," Rey declares, all of a sudden feeling very cross with Hogwarts boys in general. "I'll give you my answer tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," he echoes, sounding both relieved and abashed. "Tomorrow, then."

They fall silent. Before things can get even more awkward, Rose springs into action. "Rey, c'mon!" She gestures impatiently. "Finn said he was going to teach us how to play gobstones, remember?"

Rey flashes a strained smile at Seff and then scurries over to her friends. " Gobstones, Rose?" she mutters as they beat a hasty retreat down the hall.

"Sorry, I panicked—"

"Oi, what's wrong with gobstones?" Finn demands. "'S a great game—"

"It's really not," Rose says kindly.

Finn huffs, but decides to let it go. He looks at Rey. "You all right?"

"I'm sorry!" Rose says again. "Jysella told me she heard Seff was going to ask you, but I didn't want to ruin the surprise— although he really shouldn't've done it like that—"

"It's fine," Rey assures her despite the fact that her body still feels cold. "I just didn't like being put on the spot, is all."

"I can hex him for you, if you like," Finn offers. "Unless you do actually want to go with him."

Rey purses her lips. "Well, as I said, I'm not sure. But don't hex him, Finn."

"Seff is nice, though." Rose is looking at Rey carefully. "And the two of you get on really well..."

"I'll think about it," Rey says.

✨✨✨

She is, in fact, still thinking about it when she knocks on the door of Professor Solo's office after her last exam of the day.

It swings open. She steps inside to see him sitting at his desk, in the process of setting his blackthorn wand on top of it after disabling the locking charm. The door creaks shut behind her and she hears the sounds of clicking and a bolt sliding into place, although a glance over her shoulder reveals nothing adorning the door save for its handle.

"I'm just finishing up some grading. Make yourself comfortable." Solo nods at a bunch of Chocolate Frogs on the table beside the pile of essays that he's going through one by one.

"You never struck me as the type to have a sweet tooth," she remarks.

"I don't," he says without looking up, his quill scratching across parchment. "I got them for you."

Rey's grinning a bit, pleased as punch, as she crosses the room. There's an empty chair on the opposite side of his desk but, just as she's about to sit down, he stops her.

"Miss Niima." A hint of a smirk dances at the corner of his mouth. "When I said make yourself comfortable, I didn't mean in the chair."

And, with the hand that's not holding the quill, he pats his thigh.

Oh.

Rey's face is flaming as she walks over to Solo's side of the desk on knees that wobble like they've turned into jelly. His gaze is still riveted on his paperwork, but he moves back slightly so that she'll have space to squeeze in. He's in a dark blue waistcoat today, the matching suit jacket hung up on the coat rack in the corner and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looks so amazing that the last of her shyness is overcome and she perches on his thigh with no more hesitation.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his muscular arm curving around the small of her back, his large fingers splaying over her stomach.

As far as seats go, his wide, rock-solid thigh is far more than serviceable. Rey grabs one of the Chocolate Frogs and unwraps it, deftly catching it before it can escape and popping it into her mouth. She'd once thought that the sweets were real frogs— it did stand to reason, from all that her Muggle upbringing had taught her about witches— but they are just pure chocolate, enchanted to wriggle and hop about. She munches away, idly watching Solo write stern remarks and myriads of corrections on what turns out to be the fifth year students' essays.

"You're too harsh," she says, mouth full, after he marks Bandy Geffer's treatise on the five signs that identify the werewolf with a glaring red T for Troll.

"I have to be. They're taking their O.W.L.s in June." Solo retrieves another essay from the pile. "How are you?"

"I'm no longer sore, if that's what you mean. We can go again."

His hand trembles, smearing ink on the parchment. Cursing under his breath, he casts a quick charm to banish the mess. "That's good to know, but I was actually asking how you are in general."

"Terribly in need of sleep." She swallows the melted chocolate on her tongue. "Exams haven't been that bad, but I'm a bit behind on revising for Transfiguration and I have you and Hux on Friday, so— so I don't think we can meet at the Room of Requirement until Saturday night at the earliest. If that's all right."

"Of course. Your schooling comes first." He scratches a line through a misspelled word. "I can be there at eleven P.M. on Saturday?"

"Brilliant." She helps herself to a second Chocolate Frog, nervous about the other thing that she has to bring up with him. It's not like she can just keep on delaying the inevitable for long, however, so she finally says, "Seff Hellin asked me to be his date to the Celestial Ball."

Solo pauses in his task. Rey glances down at his sharp profile, but it is frustratingly blank. Like he's using Occlumency again. Silence fills the room and, navigating its suffocating haze, she continues, "I told him I'd think about it. I'm not really sure..."

"You should go." Solo ducks his head. Resumes marking essays. "I am given to understand that this is the first ball that Hogwarts has had in a while, and the first that your class will experience. You'll regret it if you miss out— maybe not now, but somewhere along the line, certainly."

She blinks at him. "So you're— you don't mind if I go with Seff?"

"Why would I?"

A not entirely welcome realization begins to slowly dawn as she sits there on his lap— she would appreciate it if he minded at least a little.

But, apparently, he doesn't. He's perfectly fine with her being someone else's date.

She doesn't know why that kind of kills her. It's not like she can go with him to the ball.

"Fine, then." Rey's aware that her tone is too brittle, but it can't be helped. "I'll talk to Seff tomorrow and I'll tell him I'll go."

"I hope you have an enjoyable time," Solo replies absentmindedly, utterly focused on the essay that he's grading. "If Hellin tries any funny business, go ahead and kick him in the groin."

"I'm sure there won't be any need," Rey says tartly. " He is a gentleman."

Solo's hand— the one that's on her stomach— drifts lower, slipping underneath the hem of her pleated skirt. "Is that what you want? A gentleman?"

She is hard-pressed to formulate an answer right away. His fingers caress the inside of her thigh, robbing her of words. "It— it would be a change," she manages to reply eventually.

With his other hand— the one that's not currently feeling her up— Solo grabs another essay from the stack and sets about to marking it. "A nice kind of change?"

"Um..." Rey squirms, trying to coax the languidly moving fingers on her inner thigh higher. "I don't know yet."

It's hardly scintillating conversation on her end, but he's smiling a little. That not so nice smile that never fails to awaken some dark thrill inside her.

"Perhaps you can work on that thesis the night of the ball." Solo's voice is low and husky in her ear. He strokes her through her knickers, fingertips gliding along the quickly dampening outline of her sex. "After your date's kept his hands to himself all evening... after you go to meet me and I lick your pussy until you can't see straight..." Her breath hitches in shock, but he is relentless, rubbing her clit lightly through thin cotton. "Maybe then you can decide once and for all if you prefer a gentleman or not."

He tugs the gusset of her underwear to the side and she instinctively spreads her legs wider, a drawn-out moan of relief escaping her lips as his thick middle finger breaches her entrance. She waits with trembling anticipation for his hand to start moving, to start taking her where she needs to go.

But the seconds pass, and he doesn't.

The finger that's inside her stays completely still while he continues his grading, quill busily scratching away.

Rey narrows her eyes. What does Solo think he's playing at? She wriggles impatiently, only to gasp as the movement inadvertently slides his finger in deeper, brushing against her most sensitive spots.

"Just a couple more essays, Miss Niima," he rumbles, so nonchalantly that it makes her see red. "You can wait, can't you?"

She plucks another Chocolate Frog from his desk, desperate to focus on something— anything— that's not her teacher's finger in her cunt. She chews on the sweet with vehemence; at the periphery of her vision, his smirk widens and another digit slips in to join the first.

Rey swallows her mouthful of sugar as she feels her inner walls stretch around Solo's fingers. He thumbs at her clit with just enough pressure to keep her wet, to keep her on edge, but he never builds up to the rhythm that she craves.

All while he marks the fifth years' essays. She'll never be able to look anyone from that batch in the eye ever again.

"You're dripping all over my trousers," he observes, scrawling an A— meaning Acceptable— beside Raharra Lapti's neatly printed name. "Whatever am I to do with you?"

"Getting me off would be topnotch, for a start," Rey grumps.

Solo chuckles, crooking his fingers in a way that has her spine arching against his broad chest. "All in due time."

The thing is, it's not completely terrible, being like this. She's sort of enjoying feeling small and just a little bit helpless on his lap, speared on his fingers while he acts so calm and composed and does something as mundane as grading. This new streak of his that she's uncovered, it borders on sadistic, and damn if it doesn't make the blood in her veins sing.

"Professor," she whines, not because she really thinks she can wear him down but because this is part of it. Part of the scene. She can ask, because she knows it will eventually be given. He'd told her so himself— that he wants to give her the things she asks for.

"Please make me come, sir," she whispers, and she can see his gaze darken even as it never leaves the parchment.

"Good girls are patient, Miss Niima," he reminds her, his expression stern although the effect is slightly ruined by the hoarse catch to his tone. "And only good girls get to come."

Holy fuck. She'd fantasized about him saying something like that, hadn't she? All those lonely afternoons in her room, with nothing but her own fingers bringing her to her peak while she dreamt of him...

"Okay." She gulps in a much-needed rush of air, closing her eyes. "Okay, I'll be good."

The next few minutes are torture. She eats another Chocolate Frog to ground herself, to stop herself from carrying on so. And then finally, finally, just when she can't take it anymore—

— Her heart leaps in anticipation the moment Solo sets the quill down. And it sprouts wings and soars as his freed-up right hand tips her chin toward him so that he can kiss her. She sighs happily, looping her arms around his neck. His wrist starts moving under her skirt, steady and slow. She could weep from the blessed friction, from the pumping of his fingers in her cunt and the flicking of his tongue in her mouth.

"You taste like chocolate," he murmurs against her lips, his own curved into a smile that she can't help but reciprocate. He pulls away to study her through half-lidded eyes, seeming to relish each sound of pleasure that she makes and the way her hips do their best to roll against his palm. "And you really did try your best to be patient, didn't you?" He pauses, head tilted to the side as he reconsiders his statement. Then he issues an elegant little snort, leaning in to nuzzle at the tip of her nose. "Well, in the end, anyway."

Rey's too far gone to muster anything in response. Solo's fingers pick up the pace as they thrust in and out of her wet heat and, Merlin, she's already so close, how can she already be so close—

She has to stifle a shout of protest when his fingers slip out of her and don't return. She gapes at him in surprise, in something that's almost like panic, but he holds her gaze reassuringly, unbuckling his belt.

"You've done so well, Miss Niima," he says softly, and she can't help but glow with pride. "You've been a very good girl. Do you know what good girls deserve?"

"To— to come?" she guesses, watching, mouth dry, as he undoes the button of his trousers and pulls down his zipper.

"To come on a nice, thick cock," he elaborates and, fuck, his eyes are so dark, they burn right through her, she is free-falling in the face of all this. No amount of girl talk overheard throughout the years could have prepared her for the likes of Ben Solo. "Take out your reward and sit on it, sweetheart," he croons.

The endearment goes straight to her clit. She hurriedly complies, freeing his erection from his briefs with trembling fingers, and, as she balances herself on top of his lap, her knees braced on either side of his hips, his hand cups the small of her back and the other palms her ass. They're both breathing harshly as she tugs her underwear to the side and lets his tip notch at her entrance; she sees a glimmer of sanity return to his eyes, sees him open his mouth to say something, and she beats him to the punch, saying, "I took a contraceptive potion. We don't have to worry about— about that anymore."

"Thank God." He kisses her fiercely. "If I had to wait one more second I'd probably burn this place to the ground."

She feels warm all over, and it isn't entirely brought about by arousal. It's just nice to be wanted. It's one of the reasons she's flung all caution to the wind. No one's ever looked at her the way Solo does. No one's ever desired her to the point of risking everything.

She's looking into his eyes when she allows herself to slowly, ever so slowly, sink down onto his length. His features crumple as she envelops him bit by bit; his eyes flutter shut and he throws his head back and, oh, how badly she wants to suck bruises into the pale marble column of his throat, how much she yearns to press her lips to his plump mouth...

But what happened in the greenhouse is still there, lurking in the depths of her mind. Waiting to drown her in the sting of remembered humiliation once more. She can't let it go just yet.

So, instead, she busies herself with taking him inside her. Clutching onto his shoulders in a vise grip, rolling her hips down and over until the pressure is so intense that she has to lean into him for support, stifling her ragged, whimpering sounds into the crook of his neck. His hand rubs soothing circles along her spine and his lips strew kisses on her hair, and then those last few inches are overcome and she's actually doing it, she's sitting on her professor's cock, the two of them still dressed, the afternoon shadows long on the walls of his office.

"Fuck, Rey, you're so tight," Solo mutters. He sounds almost angry about it.

And she suddenly wants nothing more than to make him lose control.

Rey begins to move. It is experimental at first, a tentative rocking motion, but Solo makes a choked, gurgling noise like the life is being sucked out of him.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

She arches back so she can get a good look at him while she rocks. His mouth is hanging open, he's staring at her like she's his entire universe. That inspires her to be bolder. She lifts her thighs until his cock is halfway out of her and then she drops back down—

— and she sees stars, she swears she does, uttering a hoarse shout as he is once more buried to the root. She does it again and again, a smile of pure bliss spreading across her face. She loves this position, loves how she can be in charge of the angle and the depth, loves how it seems like the breath is knocked out of her lungs on each downstroke. And Solo, her poor Professor Solo, he is a man unmade, all flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.

"Beautiful girl," he whispers as he brings his hand between their bodies, the pad of his thumb tracing haphazard patterns on her clit, "look at you. Look at you."

It doesn't take too long for her to come after that. She wraps her arms around his neck again, shuddering against his powerful frame as the orgasm rips through her. He seizes her hips and takes over the job of bobbing her up and down on his cock, and maybe she likes this, too, likes being too dazed to be anything but limp and pliant while he uses her for his pleasure. Her fingers tangle weakly in his soft hair. "Come in me, sir," she says in his ear, in a hushed and giddy kind of command. "Fill me up, send me back to my friends with your come dripping down my thighs..."

He tenses, his fingers digging bruises into her waist, and he spills inside her with a grunt. She closes her eyes, savoring the feeling, the rush of heat shooting down her fluttering walls, still seeing those stars that never quite left.

✨✨✨

Later, after she's scrambled off of his lap and they've both gotten to their feet and while they're straightening their clothes, he's the one who brings it up again.

"I'm serious about what I said with regards to Hellin." Solo's bent down slightly so that he can fuss with Rey's skirt, smoothening out the creases. "About kicking him in the groin if he tries anything funny. Just because you're someone's date to this type of school event, it doesn't automatically mean you're obliged to welcome to their advances."

"I don't have to be his date," Rey says before she can stop herself. "I'm still considering it."

Solo pauses in his ministrations. His gaze flies up to meet hers with an abruptness that makes her think it hadn't entirely been intentional, that there are things that he, too, can't stop himself from doing when it's just the two of them.

If you ask me not to go to the ball with Seff, I won't, Rey thinks, staring into Solo's eyes— a lighter shade of olive brown now that a beam of late afternoon sunlight is falling over him. All you have to do is ask.

She's struck by how much she wishes that he would ask. By how much she wishes he would admit that he won't be able to bear the sight of her on someone else's arm.

He swallows. Then he looks away, focusing on the task of tucking loosened strands of hair behind her ears.

"You must do what you want," he tells her calmly. "You must do what you believe is best for yourself."

In hindsight, it had been foolish to entertain the notion that someone like Ben Solo would get jealous on her account.

Ah, well.

"I'm off, then," Rey says quietly. "See you soon."

Solo nods, already walking back to his desk. "See you. And— please study for my exam."

She bristles. "What's that supposed to mean? My grades are all right!"

He sits down, leaning back in his chair. Instead of responding, he flashes her one last enigmatic smirk.

She rolls her eyes at him and all but flounces out of his office.