Chapter Text

🥧

“You should just join us for Thanksgiving, kid,” Han grumbled for the umpteenth time, perched over the open hood of a GMC Canyon, “I know you got your grandpa’s place to clear out but I don’t see why it has to be the day of a holiday. You know me and Chewie will lend you a hand if you wait until Friday.”

Oh, she knows. Rey sighed from where she was typing up an order for parts at the garage’s ancient desktop, running on Windows 95’ and with a clunky, box monitor her boss couldn’t let go of. They would be very helpful, she had no doubt. She just didn’t want them to see that side of her.

It wasn’t as if she would miss her grandfather. Good riddance, as far as she was concerned. His scent had matched his personality--he’d smelled like an ashtray tipped over a bowl of sliced onions and though he’d never raised a hand to her, Sheev hadn’t hidden his cruelty. He’d been a mean, vengeful Alpha who never found his mate and had let his loathing and resentment twist him into a monster. In the end, by the time Rey had known him, he’d been reduced to a feeble, bigoted bastard. 

But being in that large, looming house would bring her right back to the last time she’d stepped foot within its walls. Orphaned at thirteen, Rey had been shipped across the pond to live with her only remaining family--a grandfather she had never met before her parents’ sudden deaths. It was no wonder her father had left his home country.

She had left at eighteen with nothing but a backpack and the savings she had sequestered like a squirrel over the five years he had acted as her guardian.

“--you already know Leia and Chewie, and Luke will be there--he’s a real stick in the mud but Lando will probably come too so it all balances out--”

Rey had heard his rambling rant of an invitation in all of its iterations by now, considering it was only three days away and he’d first started nagging her about it the first week of November. It was sweet if not a tad pitying. She knew she was pathetic.

“Oh! Ben decided to join us this year too--”

Her breath caught. Just like that, her resolve crumbled. 

She hadn’t even met Ben Solo. He probably didn’t know she existed--why should he? Han and his son had been estranged until six months ago when he’d had a minor myocardial infarction and landed himself in the hospital. She doubted she’d come up when they had years worth of heart-to-hearts to make up for. Han’s Omega employee was hardly on the list of priorities.

It was silly, really. She had no reason to feel the way that she did. But the first time Han had wheedled her into joining him and Leia for Sunday dinner, they had given her a tour of their colonial-style home. A tour that had included the bedroom of their long-lost Alpha son. 

She’d seen his pictures lining the hall long before she’d seen his bedroom, documenting his growth through the years (and exposing an adorably embarrassing emo phase). She saw his smile grow dimmer and his nose grow longer through the years, his massive ears bracketing his narrow face. His doleful, brown, puppy-dog eyes bore into her soul and she couldn’t help smirking back at his Senior photo, in which one of those eyes was obstructed by floppy, uneven bangs.

Han had been downstairs in the kitchen, babysitting a roast in the oven, when Leia had nudged the shut door ajar, poking her head into the dark room before flipping the switch and stepping inside. It was as if the room was filled with buried landmines, the way she circled the navy blue rug, revisiting the past as she peered at the heavy metal band posters and debate trophies.

Rey had followed her into the room, staggering when she was surrounded by his cedarwood and falling rainwater scent. He wasn’t just an Alpha. He was an Alpha’s Alpha. The Ultim-Alpha. Ben Solo hadn’t been home in seven years but it was so potent, she clenched her thighs in a futile attempt to keep slick from flooding her panties.

Thank fuck Han hadn’t seen it. Thank fuck he was a Beta. But Leia’s head had whipped around in an instant, her nostrils flared and her eyebrows climbing up her forehead. There was no question where Ben had inherited his Alpha genes from.

Rey wasn’t sure if Leia ever mentioned the incident to Han. He certainly never mentioned it, which convinced her that Leia must have kept it to herself.

Han would have never let her live it down. 

He would have used it as ammunition in his Thanksgiving invitations, without a doubt. The fact he was only casually mentioning Ben was proof--sly as he thought he was, Han was as subtle as a gunshot when he played matchmaker.

“--so won’t you say you’ll come? It’ll be a good time despite the company, I promise.”

Rey twisted her pink cuff around her left wrist, staring down at the symbol of her designation helplessly. This was a mistake and she was happily blundering right into it, full speed ahead. 

“Yeah. Okay. If it’ll get you to shut up about it.”

Han cackled into the truck engine, his laughter bouncing around the various engine pipes and parts. 

“Thanks, kid! Maybe now the missus will get off my back.”

Rey’s fingers seized around her cuff in shock. Leia was the driving force behind his endless nagging? Leia, who knew exactly how extreme Rey’s reaction was to her son’s luscious, mouthwatering scent?

She was well and truly (and, in a moment of frantic hope, she realized she might just be literally) fucked.

🥧

Driving down the streets of his childhood neighborhood was so familiar that he twisted his steering wheel automatically, though with less jerkiness than when he’d last roamed this road. He pulled into the driveway, winding swiftly up to the house and blocking whoever had parked in the garage with his black Ferrari.

The front door was unlocked-- typical --and stepping inside transported him to a different time. He was instantly surrounded by the scents of home: his mother’s herbaceous, vaguely eucalyptus scent, undertones of baking spices, and faint garlic because according to Han, two cloves are never enough, no matter the recipe.

“Benny!” his mother cried, a yapping Threepio tripping over himself at her heels. “You should have told me you left the city! I wanted to have dinner ready for you.”

Ben snorted, stooping down to scoop the chihuahua off the ground, his palm cupping his soft, trembling body as he shook like a damned leaf.

“You mean you wanted Dad to have dinner ready. I hope.”

His mother was a talented woman but none of those skills were applicable in the kitchen.

“Oh, you know me, Benny. I only bake.” Very rarely, at that. “But your father should be home soon.”

“It’s the day before Thanksgiving, I don’t need some fancy, elaborate feast just for darkening your doorstep.”

His mom threw her arms around his waist to give him an aggressive squeeze.

“I know, we just missed you.”

Ben exhaled. He’d missed her too, both of his parents, despite their frustrations with each other. As a young man, he’d sworn those differences made reconciling impossible. Now he only regretted wasting so much time.

He leaned closer, his chin resting on a crown of graying braids as he thawed into her fierce embrace. It had been years since he’d last hugged his mother and their many phone conversations over the past several months really couldn’t compare. She cleared her throat when she pulled away, her round, brown eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Welcome home, Benny,” she spoke hoarsely and then, to shake the sudden emotion, clapped her hands together. “Go take your bag up to your room. I’ll scrounge up some nibblies while we wait for Han.”

He snatched the strap of his big gym bag, packed for the long weekend, and released Threepio onto his paws so he could scramble after his mom as she retreated to the kitchen. He’d get his suit from where it hung in his passenger seat later.

Trudging up the stairs, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, it was obvious that very little about the house had changed since he’d graduated high school. His portraits still lined one side of the upstairs hall, facing several wedding pictures from the eighties and older framed photos of her mother’s parents in black and white.

Ben shoved his door open, stepping into the dark bedroom. He staggered, his hand shooting out to grapple for the doorknob only to nudge it away. Pussy. His childhood bedroom was ripe with the scent of Omega pussy.

His shoulders slumped as he whuffed the air, his gym bag dropping onto the rug. Not just pussy. Slick. Ben swallowed, his eyes rolling back as he parsed out the Omega scent’s delicate notes.

Soft, sweet, juicy honeydew and vanilla cream that melted on his tongue. This Omega was summer personified.

His head swiveled around and darted into the hall, she had to be close--where?

He barged across the hall and into the bathroom. It was empty.

Was she staying here? Ben burst into the guest room, marching into the attached bath. Nothing. There was no one in his parent’s room either.

He was in a daze when he stumbled into the kitchen. He couldn’t smell her anywhere else.

“Are you okay, honey?”

No, he wasn’t. 

“Where is she?”

She blinked back at him, stumped. “Who?”

“The Omega.” 

His Omega.

🥧

Finn and Rose--and Poe, who was only present as an extension of Finn and because his Alpha muscles might as well be put to good use--showed up mid-morning to help clear out her grandfather’s house. If she was a less conscientious person, she would have just burned the damned place to its foundation and wiped her hands of it, but it wasn’t as if his old suits or his pots and pans were cursed. 

Maybe she got some satisfaction from the fact that someone less fortunate would find them at Goodwill and give them a better home and that her grandfather would have hated the notion. Regardless, she did not burn the house down.

Poe was downstairs, cursing at the austere, leather furniture, while Rose and Finn helped her sort through the attic which was, no exaggeration, nightmare fuel. Not the horror movie nightmare fuel with serial killers or supernatural creatures but more resembling a hoarder’s den. Nobody needed newspapers printed in 1982. Or ancient ad clippings from magazines that hadn’t published an edition in forty years.

Seriously, the box of ads for kitchen goods targeted toward Omega homemakers was depressing. Why did he have it to begin with? Rey wondered if her grandfather had saved them as a young Alpha as he fantasized about his ideal Omega, then clung onto them when that idealized Omega had eluded him over the following decades. 

Rose snorted when she glanced over her shoulder at the box. “I think it’s safe to say we can recycle that one.”

She reached into the box with a huff to grab one of the old ads, muttering, “I’m surprised they didn’t give her a pink dress to really make it clear she’s an Omega.”

Rey huffed in commiseration. 

“Aren’t you going to Solo’s place for Thanksgiving?” Finn asked, snickering when he saw the ad Rose was inspecting with a scowl. “You should put it to the test, see if it really is ‘mate bait.’”

He dropped it back into the box and it fluttered onto the stacks of ads of clunky, pastel appliances and canned goods. 

Now Her Pumpkin Pie Becomes “MATE BAIT” Thanks to Reddi-Wip!

Rose laughed, dusting off her hands, “Unless arson is back on the table, we need to keep it up or we’ll be here until Christmas.”

Not wanting to show up to dinner empty-handed, Rey stopped at the grocery store on her way home from Sheev’s house. It couldn’t be too hard to bake a pumpkin pie, surely. She stooped to grab a can of pureed pumpkin from the bottom shelf and Libby’s pumpkin pie recipe was printed on the back of the label. The recipe seemed simple enough to follow, especially if she used a pre-made pie shell from the frozen aisle. She even had a few ingredients at home.

With an extra pep in her step, she pushed her cart past the dairy section, pausing at the refrigerator stocked with coffee creamers and whipped cream canisters. She was being silly. And yet, she tugged the glass door open to grab a red can of Reddi-Wip instead of the generic brand that cost less and tasted the same.

“Mate bait,” she scoffed, tossing the can into her cart despite her skepticism. As if life would hand her a win that easily. For all she knew, Ben Solo was already happily mated with a whole litter of pups to keep him and his Omega occupied.

At least it would be something she could chuckle to herself over while everyone slipped into a state of comatose triggered by an overdose of tryptophan. 

Still, it would be nice to spend the holiday with family…even if that family wasn’t hers. She was so used to passing the day as if it were any other that Rey hadn’t fully appreciated how nice it was to be included. To be part of a whole rather than just a solitary figure.

🥧

Ben could feel his mother’s stare boring into the back of his head. It made his scent gland prickle, his collar hot against his neck. He was regretting the black tie he’d chosen to wear. She was playing coy with him, pretending she had no idea whose scent he had hunted through the house.

He’d returned to his bedroom last night with renewed determination, sniffing out the source of the scent, a long-dried spot on his rug. That spot of slick was for him, he was certain. Whoever the Omega was, she had reacted to his scent.

The doorbell rang again and she went flying off before he could ask who else she had invited. His uncles were all on the living room couch, sipping beers as they bickered over football stats in favor of actually watching the game playing in the background. Han was out back, checking the turkey in the smoker so as far as Ben knew, everyone they expected for dinner was already present.

Ben viciously mashed the potatoes, hoping it wasn’t some lawyer from her firm. Or worse, a prospective date. He wouldn’t put it past his mother to attempt match-making at Thanksgiving. Thrusting the masher with more force than necessary, he frowned when she returned to place a homemade pumpkin pie onto the kitchen island, flitting towards the refrigerator to stash a canister of whipped cream in an open spot in the door shelving.

“Christ, Ben, you don’t need to pulverize them. Did the potatoes personally offend you, somehow?”

Ben rolled her shoulders, forcing down his annoyance when Han walked through the sliding door back into the kitchen.

“Rey’s here, why don’t you introduce her to everyone?” Leia said with a pointed tone.

“We’re at a critical cooking point,” Han groused even as he followed her into the living room, where the laughter had grown more rambunctious, interspersed with tinkling, feminine giggles he didn’t recognize. 

Mixing butter, garlic, and heavy cream with the smoothly mashed potatoes, Ben lingered in the kitchen for as long as feasibly possible without being considered rude. Being home for the holiday was complicated enough without strangers paying witness to his awkward attempts to reconnect with his family.

When the potatoes were finished, dusted with a fine layer of vibrant, red paprika, and crammed into the warm oven with the other side dishes, he washed his hands meticulously, returned all of the dirty dishes to the sink, and realized there were no further excuses. He followed the sounds of lively conversation, stalling in the hall, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the archway.

Away from the symphony of mouthwatering smells of the kitchen, his attention was instantly drawn to a lush, sweet scent. He knew that scent. Ben stood straighter, sniffing deeply.

Then Uncle Chewie stepped out of the way and he saw her. The Omega. She was slender, delicate in build, and it was too easy for him to visualize exactly how well she would fit in his arms.

His presence didn’t go unnoticed for long. She sensed his lingering, ravenous stare, loose, brown curls framing her face as she turned towards him. Wide, hazel eyes peered back at him.

“Ah! Ben, this is Rey, she works with me and Chewie at the shop…”

He clenched his jaw, swallowing the sudden abundance of saliva that gathered in his mouth as her scent suffused his senses. He should be polite. He should smile and soften his voice and ease his posture to make himself as non-threatening as possible to a tiny, fragile Omega.

But that wasn’t possible when his every instinct screamed to claim and bite and fuck and knot, preferably right then and there. If he took even a step closer, he was going to bend that Omega over the back of his mother’s sofa and pound her into a state of empty-minded bliss. Swallowing thickly, he held his breath to prevent her scent from overcoming his good sense.

Ben pivoted away from the living room with a sharp jerk before his father could say another word.

And then he fucked his hand raw in the downstairs bathroom, clenching his teeth around the meat of his palm to keep from shouting.

🥧

Rey wilted at the sight of his broad, swiftly retreating back as Ben disappeared around the corner.

Alpha left me. Alpha doesn’t want me.

Bad, bad Omega. Not enough for Alpha.

She had worn her teeniest black dress, too. At least she’d had the forethought to wear a slickpad because even as he stomped all over her dumb, irrational feelings, he smelled like sin personified. His scent was even more maddening in the flesh, freshly wafting from his glands, it had been driving her insane since the moment she stepped into the house. Since then, every nerve ending in her body had been alight with anticipation.

She should have worn the stretchy sweater dress that accommodated the food baby she’d be leaving the table with. What had she been thinking?

Blinking rapidly to stave off tears, she made the mistake of meeting Leia’s gaze. 

Rey wasn’t sure she had ever felt more thankful for Han’s laid-back oblivion. “Eh, don’t mind Ben, Kid. Let me show you the smoker, me and Chewie were talking about making a few modifications to improve air flow…”

She gladly layered up again, buttoning her coat closed and wrapping her scarf around her neck to follow him out to the frigid patio, the sun already creeping towards the horizon in the late afternoon. Soon, it would sink fully into the clawing, barren branches of the woods bordering the Solo-Organa property.

Han rambled on for a few minutes about Leia’s threats to replace his eyesore with a brand spankin’ new electric smoker but he liked the classic, barrel-like, vertical smoker he’d been using for thirty years, thank you very much.

“I’m really glad you decided to join us. Ben isn’t so bad, I promise, he’s just slow to warm up to people.”

Rey scoffed a short, rough laugh. Even Han had noticed her disappointment. Fantastic.

“I don’t care about that,” she said because she was a lying liar who lied. 

Han saw right through her weak, wobbly smile. “If you say so, Kid.”

He paused, probably noticing the face-goop she had slathered herself with in the name of conventional beauty. Rey never wore makeup, she never did her hair up. It must have been pretty obvious what her intentions were considering she had done both today. How embarrassing.

“You look pretty, though. Even with the warpaint.”

Rey did laugh at that, shaking her head. She never got to have moments like this with her father but she liked to think it would be something like this. That a dad was supposed to be easy to talk to and capable of cajoling a laugh no matter the circumstances.

“Thanks, I think.”

He raised both hands in self-defense. “I never had a daughter, don’t look at me.  Ben didn’t like me complimenting his raccoon eyes either.”

“I can’t imagine why,” she said wryly.

Rey managed to hold it together fairly well if she did say so herself. She was going to kill Rose for pressuring her into the skimpy black dress but she didn’t so much as flinch when Ben sat as far from her as physically possible. She didn’t deflate into a spiral of self-depreciation when he didn’t glance in her direction once.

Did it wound her pride? Yes. Was she going to dissolve into a fit of torrential tears the second she got home? Also yes. Would she spend the rest of the year ranting to Finn and Rose about how stupid Alphas were? Most definitely. But she would sit through dinner with the regal disposition of a fucking queen.

Then the dinner plates were cleared. There was a brief intermission as Leia commanded the kitchen like a captain aboard deck, directing leftovers into the refrigerator and dirty dishes into the washer (and managing to avoid doing either). Han made coffee as Leia grabbed dessert plates from the china hutch.

There were four pies including her own and Rey carried the pumpkin pie to the dinner table. It didn’t even look out of place with the others. The Reddi-Wip stood tall, surrounded by apple, pecan, cherry, and pumpkin pies. She held her head high as she sat back in her seat. Dammit all, she might not have gotten the Alpha, but she baked a mean pie.

Everything was great…until she took a bite.

Salt. Salty-salt pumpkin. What the fuck did she do? Grimacing, she covered her mouth with her napkin.

“Oh, god, please don’t eat that,” she warned, shuddering as she swallowed. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what went wrong--”

Her apology was cut short by the hiss of the Reddi-Wip can. It crackled loudly as Ben covered the entire piece of pumpkin pie with whipped cream until it was piled high on the slice. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t cringe at the copious salt levels that made her tongue shrivel up in disgust.

Ben Solo silently scooped a bite of pie into his wide, pouty mouth, staring directly back at her.

“Don’t force yourself--”

She wasn’t sure he actually chewed, promptly shoveling another spoonful of her salt pie into his mouth. Rey had a moment of doubt that he might have been a robotic man but the state of her panties, slickpad or not, was evidence enough of his very human, very Alpha scent. Lando chuckled low beside her, his tone steeped with understanding, and her cheeks burst with mortified heat.

“I don’t think it’s fit for human consumption,” she protested, her voice tight with panic.

He swallowed another massive bite, melting whipped cream clinging to his lower lip.

Pinning her to her seat with only a dark, smoldering look, he finally spoke, his voice low and growly. It wasn’t fair.

“Calm down, Omega.”

Um. Excuse me?

His command was more than just effective. She practically sagged in her dining chair, grasping at the seat with clawed fingers in a futile attempt to keep herself upright. Clenching her teeth to contain the breathy, satisfied moan that followed obedience. There was no stopping the fresh wave of hot slick that soaked her pad, though, nor the way her scent glands flushed. She couldn’t stop herself from spraying the entire room with her smell, her thighs squeezing together.

“Ben, it’s rude to bark commands at the dining table.”

Ben wasn’t overly concerned about rudeness apparently because he didn’t bother to respond to Leia’s bland scolding. He was too focused on salt pie. And staring her down. And ruining his mother’s upholstery while he was at it.

And Rey didn’t know what the hell to do with any of it. So she did what she always did when she was forced into a corner. She fucking booked it.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot, I have to go--” she burst out of her seat, backing away with a quick lie, “--go feed my cat! So silly of me, I’ll go and you can just toss the pie out, it really is terrible so please don’t eat it.”

She was already in the hole so she could only keep digging. 

Rey whirled towards Han frantically. “I can get the dish from you at work!”

He blinked in bewilderment. “Uh, sure, Kid--”

Her eyes darted around the several sets gaping back at her and decided to cut her losses. “Or you know what? Just throw the whole thing out!”

She didn’t need it once she buried herself.

“‘Kay, bye.”

Rey shot away from the dining room, scrambling for the coat closet in a series of clumsy clicks of her heels.

Chapter Text

“Well, that was interesting,” Uncle Luke said succinctly, his hands laced together with his elbows propped onto his slender armrests.

Ben growled. “Shut the fuck up.” 

No one could shit-talk his Omega, Luke least of all. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to pummel his uncle into the table. He stood, licking his lips clean of whipped cream as he glowered in the direction she had fled. He had no option, he had to give chase.

“Don’t let her get away,” Uncle Chewie muttered, clapping his back.

Ben rolled his neck, yanking off his tie and flopping it onto his empty seat as his mother cursed.

“Benjamin Charles, you better not mount that Omega on my driveway.”

Hah. He would not be making that promise. Besides, his mother had known what kind of trap she had laid for him by inviting the Omega to dinner. Just as she had known who she was when he had fruitlessly searched the house for the source of her scent.

Uncle Lando, predictably enough, broke out the best brandy. 

It was Han who gave him pause, quieting the room with only a raised finger. He pointed it at Ben with a thunderous expression. Han was so rarely serious, he was forced to slow his steps, though with every moment he wasted, she ran further from him.

“Treat that woman right or there will be hell to pay.”

Ben didn’t doubt his father’s threat for a second. If he was in a more rational state of mind, he might have felt offended that his own father didn’t have his back, instead, he could only be thankful that someone had hers.

Still, his hackles raised at the insinuation. “I will take care of my Omega.”

He didn’t wait for further response, barging down the hall to the foyer and forgoing his coat. Ben didn’t feel the cold as he rushed out the door, his blood pumping hot with anticipation, heralding back to a time when Alphas claimed their Omegas in a furious chase. 

She was already in the driver’s seat of her old Jeep Cherokee, checking her blind spot to back out. Instead, she saw him, barrelling down the front steps and charging right for her.

His Omega was a skilled driver, swiftly pulling into a three-point turn on the narrow drive as he hurried towards her. 

“Omega! Stop!”

She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut as if to block out the influence of his command. This was a chase, though, and a command would not be enough to overwrite her instinct to flee. His duty as Alpha was to catch her, words were not proof enough of his worthiness.

Fine.

With her Jeep still facing the yard, midway through her turn, Ben released a guttural roar, leaping forward to belly-flop onto the hood of her small SUV.

Rey shrieked, slamming onto the brakes, and he rolled off the hood, landing on the driveway with a grunt. He flopped onto his back and she was at his side in an instant, tiny hands fluttering over him as she searched for injuries. 

“What were you thinking?!” she seethed, realizing he was unhurt. Ben could only ogle her, stunned.

“You didn’t even let Han introduce me properly, you avoided me all night--you wouldn’t even look at me--” her voice cracked but she plowed on, not taking a breath, “then you wouldn’t stop eating my gross pie--you can’t just do that!”

She burst into tears. “You can’t do that, and then command me like-like--”

Like I’m yours. She didn’t finish the statement but her meaning hung in the air between them. But she was his Omega, he had known it before they ever had the chance to meet.

Ben reached for her, cupping his palm over the raised scent gland at the crook of her neck and gently squeezing. She moaned, grasping at the front of his dress shirt, crumbling beneath his touch.

“I was trying to control myself,” he told her in a low tone. She didn’t answer, waiting for him to elaborate.

“If I had let my father say another word, I would have fucked you in front of my entire family. If I had spoken to you, I would have pushed you up against the nearest flat surface without hesitation. If I had so much as looked at you, my control would have snapped. I never meant to hurt you, Omega, only to seem less like the starving beast I am.”

He swiped at his wet lips, swallowing his saliva.

She sniffled, her eyes nearly glowing green with the sheen over her tears and her voice small. 

“And…the pie?”

Ben shrugged. “You were upset.”

Rey chuckled wetly. “I was upset because I probably mixed up the vanilla and soy sauce bottles.” 

Ben shrugged again. He was pretty sure that covered everything. It was astounding that he hadn’t mauled her yet, the outside air only slightly diluting her sweet, creamy scent. He slipped his palm free of her throat, ducking his chilled nose into the warmth of her scent gland and drinking in her essence.

The Jeep engine was still idling as he pulled them off the cold pavement and he threw open the rear door, crowding his Omega into the backseat. Ben nearly staggered at how potent her scent was within her vehicle, fully seeping into the fabric seat covers and rugs. He shut the door behind him, enclosing them in her fruity, melon scent.

“You smell so fucking good,” he growled, nuzzling her gland before licking a hot stripe over her heated skin. “Edible.”

She leaned against the other door, her thighs spread in welcome, and if he didn’t have such limited space, he would have tested exactly how decadent she tasted on his tongue. The demanding bulge in his slacks didn’t allow for a change in venue.

“Alpha…” she shuddered, breathy and pliant beneath him. 

Ben grasped at her hips, at her supple thighs, wrapped around his waist, her little, black dress bunching to show her ruined panties, “Fuck!”

He’d never get enough of that maddening scent.

She scraped her nails up his back, tugging him closer to the heat at the crux of her thighs, and Ben’s patience had sizzled away into nothingness over the endless, excruciating dinner they’d shared. He shredded them between his bare hands, snapping the elastic and tearing the thin, white cotton until he could rip them from her hips entirely. 

Her breath puffed hotly against his throat as she tore at his buttons, seeking bare skin with her fingertips. He flexed his abdomen as her fingers drifted over them and she giggled, then sighed when he rucked her dress up, the slinky material tucked up to her armpits, her teeny, bite-size titties staring up at him.

Ben withdrew only far enough to take her in, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip as his gaze fell from her chest to her tight belly, down to her pretty, little hole. Her labia were shiny with slick and he admired her pussy in amazement. It was so tiny. And all his. He plunged a thick finger into the knuckle, utterly in awe of how she clenched around his intrusion. 

🥧

Rey was utterly overwhelmed. She had spent two hours berating herself for the mere thought that she might be worthy of him. He hadn’t let her flee, though. Her nose didn’t lie--Ben Solo was hers. She had known it since that fateful Sunday with the Solos.

Now he was here, in her car, close enough to taste, and Rey slipped her arms around his neck, bringing his mouth closer to hers.

He melted into her kiss with a moan, the squelching sounds of his slowly thrusting fingers echoing in the small space. He slipped them free with a wet pop, his hand settling like a warm brand against her belly, spreading her slick onto her skin.

She coiled her arms tight around him, rolling her hips against the unmistakable bulge in his black slacks.

“Keep that up and I’ll have no choice but to knot you,” he rumbled against her lips, and there was no denying how badly she wanted that by the way her inner muscles clenched with need. A warm gush of slickness soaked into the fabric straining over his cock and his nostrils flared.

“Do you want my knot, Omega?”

Rey was incapable of lying. “Please, Alpha.”

It went beyond mere desire, she ached with how empty she felt. Rey keened at the soft sound of his zipper dragging down his fly, arching her back to meet the hot press of the tip of his cock. He slipped it along the length of her slit rolling it over her hard, little clit, swollen with need.

“If you had waited for me to finish my pie--”

Rey choked, rocking her pelvis in an attempt to guide his movements, wordlessly begging to be filled. He would not be deterred.

“--I would have taken you up into my childhood room and defiled my old bed beyond my teenage self’s filthiest imagination.”

“My pie might've killed you,” she whimpered, embarrassed that she’d made such a massive mistake in her misguided attempt to impress him.

“Hush,” he hummed, sucking wetly on her scent gland, sending hot tingles straight to her throbbing clit. “My Omega made that pie. I won’t let anyone speak badly of it.”

Her answering laugh resolved in a sob. “But--”

He nudged against her clit again, grinding down harder, and she gasped, whatever protest she had promptly lost.

“I would have covered your cute tits with whipped cream and sucked on them until they were cherry-red. Then I would have fucked you with my tongue until you couldn’t speak.”

Ben clicked his tongue with disapproval. “Instead I had to chase you.”

Rey pouted, her brow furling. She was not apologizing for running when he hadn’t given her reason to stay before jumping onto the hood of her Jeep like a madman.

He chuckled lightly, smoothing her pinched brow with his soft lips. She huffed and he lowered his kiss to her mouth, coaxing her to let him in. Rey angled her face to slot their lips together, her tongue plunging into his mouth.

He groaned, deeply satisfied, the broad head of his dick sinking inside. Slowly, slowly, he kept going, and Rey scrambled to grasp at his tensed shoulders as it continued endlessly. She shivered at the forceful thump of his thighs smacking against the backs of hers. He held himself fast, his hips flexing, his balls heavy against her stretched pussy lips.

She gulped in a deep breath, clamping around his thick girth several times.

His tongue lashed into her open-mouthed kiss, his hips rolling back, and her inner muscles clenching to keep him there. His cock dragged deliciously along her channel and she cried out when he thrust again, faster this time.

He steadily built up to a fierce, pounding rhythm, the cabin rocking with the force of his thrusts, gently creaking as it knocked back and forth.

Rey scarcely noticed it over her shuddering cries, not caring if the entire street heard her. He grunted, his mouth dropping to her chest to suckle at her sensitive skin, slicking it with his saliva. She shoved her chest forward into his nipping mouth, shouting at the scrape of his teeth over the delicate, pink buds.

“So tight and wet for me, Omega,” he slurred against her tits, slurping a nipple into his mouth to suck roughly.

Rey didn’t feel the cold of the backseat window against her bare shoulder, flushed and panting as he fucked her frantically, the wet slaps of his balls striking her slick-drenched bottom even louder in the limited space. She could only hold onto him, unable to match his sharp, jerking thrusts.

Heat simmered low in her belly, twisting tightly as he maintained his ruthless pace, each plunge of his cock driving her closer to oblivion. She was so achingly close to the precipice, unable to shove herself over the edge.

She needed…

“Knot me, Alpha,” she whimpered.

He shoved into her with a growl, the leather of her headrest cracking under his grip as he used it as leverage, pounding into her with renewed desperation.

His hips snapped and he shouted, gasping and seething as he rutted into her.

She nosed at his scent gland, keening with each heave of his hips, pushing his collar out of the way of her mouth.

“Bite it,” he growled as she worried at the swollen point with her incisors, her tongue lapping over the flushed skin.

Rey didn’t hesitate for a moment, her teeth clenching around his gland, squeezing until they pierced his flesh, the tang of blood mixing with the rich, earthy pheromones. His knot expanded with a hot press against her slick hole, stretching her to her limit, and she released his gland with a cry.

A warm flood of his cum surged within her and she snapped, seizing around his knot rhythmically as she was blinded by white-hot pleasure. They clung to each other as he spurt into her again, a low moan rumbling in his broad chest. Trembling, oversensitized from coming, she melted into the seat.

He pulled her with him as he sat back, flopping into the seat with her straddled over his lap, his cock buried deep as he spilled himself.

🥧

Ben was unashamed of the purr that emanated from his chest as his Omega gave the bitemark she had bestowed him delicate, kitten licks. His knot had released with a wet plop and a flood of his cum was soaking into her upholstery, but he wasn’t in the least sorry for the outcome.

He’d happily pay to have it detailed. Though in truth, he rather liked the idea that anyone who entered would instantly smell that she had an Alpha. He would have to settle for returning her bite.

He gently stroked up and down her back, mournfully tugging her dress down to her hips. The cabin was steamy with their panting, the glass fogged up and allowing a shred of privacy. He would carry her into the house in a moment, fully drunk on his pheromones, she shouldn’t be driving anyway.  

He’d take her up to his room and do everything he’d threatened to with the can of Reddi-Wip.

But for now, he was content to savor the intimacy of remaining buried in his Omega even after his knot had deflated. 

Until Uncle Luke honked his car horn at them, her Jeep still blocking the driveway.

He was pretty sure he might be half in love with his little Omega when she raised her face from where it had been tucked under his chin to flip his uncle off with a furious scowl.

Thanksgiving might just be his new favorite holiday, salt pie and all.

🥧 the end 🥧