The Art of Broken Pieces

A Porg in a Purse

Rey's posture went ramrod straight as Ben slid in behind her, his arms bracketing hers. Her heels put her slightly more in line with him, so the dense muscle of his chest pressed in against her shoulder blades, and when he wound an arm around her waist to pull her backwards into step, she felt his belt catch at the low back of her dress. Suddenly, she didn't care about the red-masked face ahead of her. The man was saying things, telling her to step backward.

She tried to retain her focus on Octavius, who was smiling at her indulgently. "You're doing fine, but...Perhaps you need a firmer hand," the man crooned. He drew her in, sliding his hand around her waist, scooping her in against him. Her heels put her just barely below his height. He was a scant few centimeters taller than her now, more the height of Finn or Poe. But unlike her boys, this man's grip was demanding, and he pressed her into the stiff fabric of his suit. He slid his hand down to her exposed thigh. "Step back with this leg, my dear. Aurelian dances start on the opposite side."

Ben was breathing in her ear, sending little skitters of sensation down her neck. Irresistible. His body was warm and firm behind her, and she could feel how irresistible he found her every time he brought himself against her to move her forward. It was impossible to ignore the increasing pressure and expanding shape of him pressing into her backside. It made her spine want to liquefy.

The salt and pepper stubble around the edges of Octavius's mask moved, suggesting a smile. His hand flattened on her back, the tips of his fingers skirting the edge of her dress. His thumb caressed her back.

Trapped between them, Rey wasn't sure how to react. She wanted to tell Ben that he wasn't helping, that he was confusing the situation, but... She felt his arm like a barrier between herself and Octavius.

Ben wanted to push away the man's reaching hands, pull Rey away and replace them with his own. He bent slightly to press his nose behind her ear, breathing in her skin. If nothing else, at least he could provide a welcome distraction from the ordeal, and steal the dance he wished to have. It was an interesting thought, to take her away somewhere and spend the night dancing just for them, not for any mission or motive. In his mind dancing became something more, and he flattened one hand over Rey's belly, feeling her breath catch as he carefully guided her through the steps.

"You're doing well." He encouraged her, lips brushing the back of her neck. "He wants you." Ben wasn't entirely sure if he was referring to the Chamberlain or to himself. Most likely both.

Rey was too warm, half with irritation, half with blossoming desire as her body was torn between the disconcerting touches of the Chamberlain's thumb caressing her back, and the hot drag of Ben's mouth down her neck. She wanted to focus on the big hand on her belly, the strong body closing around her from behind, sending little electric jolts up through her.

But Chamberlain Octavius redirected his leading hand, tucking her unresisting fingers onto his shoulder. The trickle of his fingers down her arm sent a confused shiver through her, his knuckles caressing the underside of her arm, down her rib cage, back up to the place just beneath the swoop of gold fabric that ducked beneath her breast.

Ben had been holding that leading hand as well, and now... now it was moving too, and Rey could hardly breathe.

The Chamberlain curved his hand around her ribs, his thumb a mere centimeter from being inappropriate, his opposite hand sliding further around the back of her dress, stroking her ribs.

"You're terrible," she breathed, speaking to both men.

"I'm not exactly known for being good." Ben agreed, moving in time with Rey as she was guided across the dance floor. The press of her curves against his hips made his heart beat faster, and the thrill of the hunt sent sparks down his nerves. Hunting together, trapping their prey... hunting alone and feeling her tremble in his arms.