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delia-pavorum: clara-gemm: I couldn’t resist A Place to Go by @delia-pavorumChapter 8 is now up! T

delia-pavorum:

clara-gemm:

I couldn’t resist

A Place to Go by@delia-pavorum

Chapter 8 is now up! The story is COMPLETE

a place to go|rated: E | 52.6k words|COMPLETE

summary:

Ben. Rey. A cabin in the woods. Both looking for solitude and instead finding something more.

Chapter 8 preview:

Rey was dreaming.

Fragments of images – feelings, really – filtered in and out, like shafts of light dispersing through the shutters of an open window. Within her, she felt the ebb and flow of tranquility and peace, pleasure and comfort. Security. Warmth.

There was a pleasant heat against her back and the tickle of cool air on her brow. A soft rasp against the nape of her neck. Goosebumps rose up on her body.

A restlessness grew. It caused her to shift and sigh, even in sleep. The pressure against her back grew more insistent. She felt a tightening around her chest and over her stomach; the sensation of being secured further against a solid surface. She sighed again, eyelashes fluttering, a red glow behind her mostly-closed eyelids signalling the start of a new day.

Experimentally, she moved her feet, brushing them against another pair of feet – significantly larger than hers – that shifted as she moved. Dragging her toes upwards, she felt the crisp, sparse hair of a now-familiar shin. The legs under hers adjusted, trapping her feet between them. She bit her lip on a smile, feeling that same rasp on her neck, followed by a soft caress.

Awakening further, she became more aware of her surroundings. The cabin. The ancient space heater that was still on, emitting a low, uneven warmth throughout the room. How the majority of her warmth was coming from the man at her back – Ben – who, she remembered with a wriggling internal thrill, was also responsible for the pleasant soreness between her legs.

The luxury of lying there in bed, warm, contented. No alarms going off, nowhere to be – this feeling was what she’d needed all along. The absence of responsibility, of being held accountable for every word, action, decision she made, even the very action of making decisions – this was what she had sought when Luke had first dangled the carrot of this cabin, this retreat.

And it had taken a few days. It had taken some finagling, some turmoil, quite a bit of Tylenol and tears – but she was here.

And it was Christmas.

Read on


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