All Fun and Games Until... (Ben Solo/Kylo Ren)

Chapter 25: Life Imitates Art

At Diana's, Ben has earned the title, "Doctor Pretty" by the old woman tenant, Esther, at the main level of her apartment who always comes up with million excuses to get a hold of his arms. She couldn't blame the woman from heavily complimenting his shoulders with every chance she gets. Because, same. Diana thought. Esther even thought that Ben Solo is an army doctor from his strong, intoxicatingly masculine built.

After some time, Doctor Pretty has taken over Diana's regular check ups to the over-eager lady downstairs. The prescription medicine she's taking became a thousand times more effective ever since Ben did the honors.

"She knows." Diana softly whispered one time to him as they took the stairs to reach her floor.

With Esther's terrifying raised brow at her while she told Diana that she "hopes that the doctor job is treating them alright because she have been hearing the two of them running around to go to her bedroom quick to catch a rest", Diana didn't pretend that she didn't know what she was talking about and apologized profusely. Wishing and hoping that the Earth would open up and swallow her quick and easy.

"I am so so so sorry." Diana grimaced, her hands becoming clammy from embarrassment. "We'll keep it down."

Esther comfortably smiled as she waved her apology off. "Don't worry about it too much, have sex as much as you want. When you can, while you can. With that redwood of a man hovering over you everyday, I understand the commotion upstairs." She winked.

"Knows what?" Ben mirrored the quietness of her voice, clutching the stethoscope he pulled out a while ago.

"She lives exactly below mine." Diana waited for them to reach the hallway before speaking again. Their playful and quirky foreplay of chasing each other around her apartment before fucking each other incredibly hard is undoubtedly heard below (upstairs too maybe, side to side as well). Her bedpost and the springs of her couch were real snitches too. "We're not being a quiet neighbor lately. My place is no penthouse, Ben. The poor woman must be traumatized."

And that gave him a reason to make her stay at his place more often than intended.

The clothes and the toothbrushes are one way to describe how they have come far. The right side of his double sink in the bathroom doesn't look so lonely and sparse anymore because Diana's favorite brand of night cream and toner are meeting his Serge Luten L'Eau aftershave lotion in the middle.

Her side of his bed has already been occupied by her things; a case of her mouthguard that he noticed that she never really actually wears, a hand lotion that she proudly told Ben that was 10% off and spent 15 minutes shoving the tube up close to his nose to smell it and a battered copy of Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice.

But at his place, phew, nothing is stopping Diana from screaming loud while she's being dicked down real nice by Ben Solo. The man has an unquanchable appetite for sex, it's insane. It's a cliché move, but a private elevator ride with intense (not really subtle) ass groping under camera surveillance is enough for them to fuck each other's brains out before they could even shed off their coats.

It's like Ben is on a one-man mission to plow her at every corner of his penthouse, not leaving a centimeter of a space neglected. Even his bougie kitchen top has finally become dirty even before the ingredients for the chicken picatta they were planning to make touched the surface.

No, scratch that. He is on a one-man mission to plow her on every single thing he owns. Because as soon as they climbed out of his car after parking it in his private parking basement, he immediately spun Diana around. Chuckling darkly as he pushed her until the back of her calves touched the front of his car. Her ass slightly sitting at the warm hood of his Porsche.