Throwing a pup into bed and pinning them down, easily forcing a hand between squeezed-together thighs to grope their warm, slick puppy parts.
“You’re soaked,” a teasing chuckle low in your throat as they squirm beneath you, a shaking gasp as you slide a finger inside. You take advantage and swallow their helpless noises with your own mouth, forcing your tongue down their throat as you hungrily claim them inside and out. Any resistance weakens with a shudder the moment you remind them of your hand between their legs. Stroking their tdick, adding another finger to their soaking fuckhole.
You kiss them until they’ve soaked the bed beneath them, all breathless and dizzy, but you’re still not satisfied. You work your way down their heaving chest, their twitching stomach. Hungry hickeys and kisses and laving over bruises with your tongue. Claiming nips of their skin between your teeth. A foreshadowing of what’s to come.
That must be what reignites their fight because their breathing picks up and they try to push away from you with weak legs. “Please, please, wai—”
As if they ever had a choice to begin with. They let out a yelp as you drag them back towards you and lift their hips to your mouth to devour them. A helpless cry is forced from the creature in your grip as you feast. They thrash at first, gasping and keening as their body is wracked with waves of pleasure. Their thighs squeeze your head, and you can feel their muscles twitching and jolting in time with the pulse under your tongue.
Eventually they surrender to their fate, riding out what you do to them as they were always meant to. They can only clutch a pillow against their chest to muffle their helpless cries and moans, as you force them over the edge again and again until they’re well and truly shaking uncontrollably from overstimulation.
