Eyes on Me (part 2)
(Yautja x Reader / Yautja x Female Human)
Read: Part 1 | Part 3
Warning: Explicit Content 18+ (mdni)
Did you ask for this? Probably no. Did I still write a part 2? Yes. I am avoiding my actual projects again 🥲 but please enjoy this my little freaks 🤎
His forehead pressed against yours, breath washing over your face in heavy waves of that sweet, spicy scent that had been clawing at the back of your skull all damn night.
You shut your eyes for a second, letting it drown you. You weren’t sure if it was some biological trick he was pulling or if he had somehow gotten under your skin during the trip and hooked you on his smell like a fucking addiction. But you knew better. It wasn’t him. It was you, your own stupid, relentless hunger to crack through his silence, to force his eyes on you and only you, twisting into something deeper, something that sat heavy in your gut and wouldn’t let go.
“You wanna go back inside, Princess?” His voice came out rougher than before, with a need you’d never heard from him, like he was barely holding himself together, waiting for a single word from you to snap the collar over his throat.
“Not really,” you breathed and that was all it took.
His body shifted, knee nudging between your thighs, forcing them apart just enough for his hand to slide from your waist, down to the bare skin above your knee. Cold, calloused fingers dug in, thumb dragging slow circles over flesh that felt like it was burning up under his touch.
“Tell me,” you said, smirking despite the way your pulse hammered, “how long you’ve wanted to touch me.”
“Why don’t you tell me first?” His voice was pure taunt, thick with mockery. “How long have you been waiting for me to put my hands on you like this?”
His grip tightened, hauling your leg up and hooking it over his thigh, trapping you between his body and the wall, your cunt pressed flush against hard muscle.
“You kept pissing me off, but—” Your words choked off in a sudden moan, as his tongue dragged from the bite mark on your neck to the shell of your ear.
“Yeah?” he rumbled right against your skin, close enough that his tusks grazed your jaw.
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from whimpering. “When I saw you carrying that Sylthari in your arms… I fucking lost it.”
His teeth scraped the spot where your pulse thundered over your neck.
“That’s what pissed you off?”
You felt the laugh rumble through his chest, low and warm, vibrating straight into you. “I’m sorry, Princess.”
His thumb brushed over your lower lip, the other hand cradling your face like you’d break if he wasn’t careful, making you feel impossibly small.
“That’s why you kept slamming drinks?” he asked. “You wanted me carrying you around like one of them?”
You slapped his chest plate, hard enough to make your palm sting, faking anger. He growled, mandibles flaring wide in clear amusement.
“Don’t get feisty with me,” he warned, but there was no bite in it, both of his massive hands cupped your face now, thumbs brushing small circles over your burning cheeks, forcing your eyes to stay locked on his.
“Why not?” you fired back, heat flooding your face at the intimacy. “I’m the princess. I can do whatever I want.”
His gaze pinned you, yellow eyes softening in a way that drowned out the muffled sound of music coming from the club, silencing everything but the frantic beat of your heart against your chest.
“Then what do you want?”
“You.”
You breathed, the word making you feel exposed, no room for hiding anymore.
His eyes sharpened, mischief bleeding into them and he let you go, stepping back just enough that your feet found solid ground again, your body swaying without his bulk holding you up.
You stood there, legs trembling, thigh still wet with sweat from where it had been locked around him, heart thumping, staring at him with a need you couldn’t resist.
“You know how it goes for Yautja, right?” His hand cupped your face again, thumb stroking gently across your cheek. You tipped your head back to meet his eyes, the sheer ridiculousness of his height making your neck ache.
“I’ve read about it,” you said.
His hand stilled. “You’ve… what?”
The shock in his voice was unmistakable, eyes locked on yours, mandibles twitching like you’d just yanked the ground out from under him.
“Do you want me to say it out loud?” You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling the weight of it even without speaking the word. Virgin.
His palm stayed heavy and warm against your flushed skin.
It took him a beat, longer than you expected, before his thumb started moving again, tracing the curve of your cheek. The shadows in the narrow alley made him loom even larger, but the look in his eyes softened, not matching the menace he really was.
“I don’t know much about human anatomy,” he said, voice low, “but you seem… small, Princess.”
His clawed fingers dragged down your neck, until one thick thumb found the curve of your breast. He paused, before pressing down on your nipple, rolling it in tight little circles that sent sparks straight to your spine.
You jerked softly, a shaky breath escaping your lips. His gaze was locked there, unblinking, like he was studying some rare prey response. The harder it peaked under his touch, the more fascinated he looked, as if your body was begging him for more without a single word.
“Which means?” you breathed, bracing for it, for the polite refusal, the bowed head, the same careful retreat every other Yautja had given you when it came to sex.
“Which means I’ll have to be extra careful with you, Your Highness.” The words came out laced with that familiar taunting tone, eyes narrowing just enough to make your pulse spike and your heartbeat to falter.
“Were you planning to be brutal otherwise?” Your mouth curved, relief taking over you, hot and quick.
“You have no idea.” The growl in his voice was pure tease.
You shoved his chest, hard enough to feel the vibration of his laugh rumble through muscle and bone.
“Watch your mouth, or I’ll report you to my father.” You threatened with a smile.
“Is that so?” He asked, dropping to his knees, “make sure to get all the details.”
Your breath caught, eyes going wide as he gripped the underside of your thigh and forced it open, hooking your leg over his shoulder in one effortless motion. Your dress dragged up, bunching around your hips.
“Wait—Kel’Rakur—”
The protest died in your throat. His clawed fingers brushed over the wet fabric of your underwear, rough pads dragging over your throbbing pussy.
Your hands flew to his dreads, fisting two thick ropes, but he didn’t flinch.
“Look at that,” he rumbled, thumb pressing slow over your swollen clit, watching the way it pulsated against the tight cloth.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
His pupils blown wide, black swallowing yellow as he stared at your cunt like it was rewriting everything he knew. His thumb dragged again, slow and heavy over the wetness and a broken whimper tore out of you.
“If I didn’t know better,” he said, glancing up to catch every twitch of your face, “I’d say your body’s begging for me.”
“Mhm,” was all you could manage, biting the back of your hand to muffle the moan that tried to escape you.
“You know,” he continued, mandibles grazing the trembling insides of your thighs as he leaned closer, “your scent is different from any other female I’ve smelled.”
His mouth hovered right over the dump crotch of your underwear, breath blasting hot against the fabric, making you shiver. You clenched your jaw, fighting the pathetic whine that left your lips anyway.
He inhaled you, deeply, shamelessly groaning at your scent and your eyes darted around the shadowed alley, pulse hammering with the fear of someone hearing, seeing, knowing exactly what your guard was doing between your legs.
“Somebody might—” Your words choked off by a gasp again, as his claws hooked your underwear and dragged it aside, exposing you completely. His mouth lowered without hesitation, tongue dragging slow, wet stripes between your soft folds.
You jerked against him, hands shoving at his shoulders on instinct, caught between pleasure and the raw embarrassment of it all. His head snapped up, dreads swaying, yellow eyes locking on yours with a tilt that asked a single, silent question.
This was it. You could back away now. You could tell him to stop, say it was too much, too embarrassing, too fucking dangerous with eyes that could stumble into this alley any second.
“Keep going,” you breathed instead, a reckless grin splitting your face.
He didn’t hesitate. Mandibles parting wide, he buried his face between your legs, hands gripping on your hips to hold you steady against the rough wall. His tongue worked you over with focus, long, dragging licks that mapped every fold, every slick inch, like he was committing the shape of you to his memory.
You bit down on a moan, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. After all the silent bullshit, all the rigid fucking obedience, here he was delivering exactly what you demanded, better than you’d ever imagined.
Then his tongue pushed inside you and that smile got wiped off your face.
Your eyes flew wide, cunt clenching down around the sudden intrusion, slick and hot and too damn much.
“What the fuck was that?” His voice came out rough, a mix of hunger and stunned fascination. Before you could answer, he dove back in, forcing his tongue deeper, thrusting it in and out with greediness.
You whimpered, hands fisting tight in his dreads because it was all you could do, tug and twist and ride that breathtaking rhythm he set. He growled low in his chest, one hand snapping up to seize your wrist.
“You’re driving me insane,” he groaned. “If you keep pulling like that, I’ll fuck you right here.”
The threat hung between you, heavy and real, even with him down on his knees. His eyes burned up at you, pupils blown wide, mandibles clicking almost threateningly.
“And why would I not want that?” You cocked your head, grin sharpening as he stared.
“Usually females break our spines during mating,” he said, the words fraying as his tongue flicked out to lap at your thigh still hooked over his shoulder. “But I doubt you could manage that.”
“Is that a challenge, guard?” You yanked harder on his dreadlock, watching his mandibles flare and his breath stutter.
“What have I gotten myself into?” The question came out breathless, almost a laugh, his massive frame vibrating with it as he pressed his mouth back against your pussy.
The sound of his own hunger, stripped of his usual infuriating restraint, sent a hot thrill up your spine. He was on his knees, tongue-fucking you against a filthy alley wall and still he sounded like he was the one almost cumming.
You tightened your grip in his dreads and rolled your hips against his mouth, daring him to find out exactly what he’d gotten himself into.
You let the dreadlock slip from your fingers now and dragged your nails along the sensitive skin behind his mandibles. His eyes snapped wide, pure shock flashing across that hard face and a rough little laugh slipped out of you. You’d never seen him rattled like that.
“Keep doing that,” he rasped, voice wrecked, before dropping his head again. His mouth sealed over your soaked cunt, tongue lapping slowly, drinking every drop that leaked out of you, like he was dying of thirst and you were the only water left on this planet.
Your nails kept brushing, scraping deeper into the grooves of his skin, feeling his jaw tightening every time your nails dug harder.
Without a warning, his entire body started vibrating and you lost it.
It began as a low thrum in his chest but built fast the longer your nails raked behind his mandibles, until a full-throated roar erupted from him, a rumble that poured straight into your core.
“Wait—wait—” The words tumbled out, half plea, half surrender, because your hips were already moving on their own, grinding shamelessly against his face. Your hands grabbed onto his head, fingers twisted in dreads, rocking yourself over his tongue as the vibration danced through you.
Your clit throbbed, swollen and desperate, and he rolled it between the rough ridges of his tongue in perfect sync with every desperate thrust of your hips. The sensation was too much, his growl shaking you apart from the inside, every nerve lit up and screaming, your body bucking without thought or control.
His free hand gripped your hip, claws pricking skin as he forced your rhythm, guiding you harder, deeper, matching the pulse of his rumble. Tears welled up in your eyes, riding his mouth like some feral animal while his entire body vibrated like a fucking engine.
You’d never heard a Yautja rumble like that. Never felt anything like the way it shook your bones, buzzed through your clit, made your pussy clench, drip and beg to be fucked harder against that merciless tongue.
It was like he had cracked the code of you in minutes.
Every stroke of his tongue, every adjustment of pressure, every timed lick on your clit, he mapped your body like prey he had been stalking for cycles. He watched the way you gasped, the way you clenched around him, the way your moans broke against your palm. Filing away every twitch, every breath, turning your reactions into a blueprint he was going to follow until you cried out of pleasure.
It almost didn’t make sense.
No one should be able to read you that fast, to know exactly where to press, how hard to drag his claws on your skin, how soft to vibrate until you couldn’t open your eyes from the feeling.
But he did.
And as your nails dug deeper, drawing that rumble out of him louder, harder, you realized with a knowing smirk, that he wasn’t just following your body’s demands.
He was learning you.
He didn’t say a word after that. Didn’t need to. He just let you take what you wanted, let you fuck yourself on his tongue without breaking focus, without rushing you or pulling back. His hands stayed locked on you, one guiding the roll of your hips, the other rubbing slow, steady circles over your thigh where it hooked over his shoulder.
That tender touch should have soothed you, but instead, it worked you up worse, until you were yanking on his dreads with both hands, dragging his face deeper between your thighs and fucking his mouth like you’d die without it. Every grind chasing that low vibration pouring from his chest, until your whole body hummed with it.
“I can’t—stop—” The words tore out of you in a broken gasp, meaningless, because you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.
Your eyes rolled back, breath fast, hips slamming forward on their own, chasing your orgasm blindly.
He started panting against your soaked pussy, searching for air you didn’t allow him, dragging a desperate chant from your throat: “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Your hands squeezed his dreads hard enough to hurt and he answered with a long groan that made your vision white out.
Even though you’ve touched yourself plenty of times, you’ve never reached that kind of pleasure.
No.
This was alive, wet, rough and perfect. A tongue forcing its way inside you, hands shoving you harder onto his vibrating mouth, the sensation leaving you gasping, shuddering, seeing fucking stars.
Your body slowed on its own, dragging out the aftershocks in weak, sloppy rolls, each one dragging a moan from your throat. His hand pressed tighter over your hip, forcing you down through every last pulse, licking you dry.
“Kel—Kel’Rakur—” you choked out, hands shoving weakly at his head, oversensitive now, every brush of his tongue feeling like it could make you cry. Your legs shook, vision blurring, words dissolving into nothing.
“Ah—fuck—” He finally pulled back when you managed to force his face away, saliva and your own slick gleaming across his mandibles and the whole line of his mouth. His thumb stroked your calf hanging off his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”
“I just came,” you panted, managing a shaky smile, “and it’s sensitive as hell.”
A questioning growl rumbled from him, eyes locked on yours, still glowing by witnessing you losing your mind over his tongue a moment ago.
“You came? Already?”
“That’s how humans work.”
“Princess…” The word came out soft, almost mocking, with a singsong lilt that made it sound like he had just discovered something soft and innocent in the middle of an alleyway fuck. Like you were some wide-eyed novice playing with weapons you didn’t understand.
He looked up at you, rubber dreadlocks tangled in your fists, while he breathed heavily. His gaze was just pure fascination, like the fact that you’d broken apart that fast, that hard, was the most compelling thing he had ever seen in his life.
And from the way his mandibles flexed, pupils still blown wide and black, you knew he was already thinking about how many more times he could make you do it.
But you yanked your leg off his shoulder and huffed, cheeks burning with the aftershocks still twitching through you and that sheer embarrassment because of his reaction. Your knees buckled as you tried to step away, ready to bolt and pretend you hadn’t just fucked his face, but the fabric of your dress got caught, tugged firmly back by his hand. You twisted around, scowling at him on his knees as he pulled you, but your glare slowly turned into a smile you desperately tried to hide.
“Come here.”
His voice guttural and deep as always but painted with something softer, almost apologetic. You didn’t resist and he didn’t let go until you were in front of him again.
“Tease me one more time and—”
“I’m sorry, my Princess.” The words came out a low growl and before you could snap back, his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him while he stayed kneeling. His mandibles pressed against your ribs, holding you tight, almost possessively in his arms.
Every sharp comeback died in your throat, replaced by a soft, pathetic sound you couldn’t stifle this time. His body shook with a quiet laugh, as he knew exactly what he was doing, knew how fast your pulse peaked under his hands when he treated you like that, faster even than when you came on his tongue.
Damn him.
“Hey.” You grabbed under his mandibles, forcing his head up. His eyes gleamed up at you, soft and unguarded.
“How long have you been watching me?” The certainty in your voice left no room for lies.
His mandibles twitched under your grip. He rose slowly, towering over you again, dreadlocks falling forward as he cupped your face and dragged his tongue —still slick with you— across your lips.
“What gave it away?” he murmured, forcing your mouth open, mandibles grazing your cheeks as you felt his tongue on yours.
“You’re being too soft,” you managed between licks, gasping as his free hand slid down your back, palming your ass and squeezing until your knees felt weak again.
“You want me to go harder?”
“How do you even know what to do?” you demanded and he paused, hands enveloping your waist, making you feel small again.
“You didn’t try to snap my spine the second I put my tongue in you, so…” he said plainly.
“How do you really know?” you pressed.
His mandibles parted in a clear, smug grin. “You’re a negotiator for a reason huh,” his claws played with a strand of your hair now, “you saw right through my bullshit.”
“Yeah,” you smiled at the hint of admiration in his voice.
“That’s fucking hot,” he breathed against your ear and then pulled back. “I don’t take a job without knowing the client first.”
His hand shoved under your dress again, claws scraping the edge of your underwear before his rough palm cupped your sensitive pussy, fingers brushing your folds like he was still learning the shape of you.
“You damn stalker,” you hissed, then gasped as two thick fingers dragged over your slick entrance.
“What have you seen me doing?” You already knew the answer, knew exactly what you’d done alone in your chambers, thinking no one watched.
“Everything I needed to know.” His breath ghosted your face, one hand working your pussy while the other twisted gently in your hair, your hips rocking on instinct against his palm. “It’s my job, Princess.”
You scoffed. “So your job includes fucking your clients?”
His palm brushed against you again, stealing your breath. “No. But I can make an exception for you, Your Highness.”
He dragged the title out like a curse, dripping with filthy respect, enough to acknowledge what you were, not enough to keep his hands off you.
His golden eyes locked on yours, thumb pressing your bottom lip open, brushing your tongue while his other palm rolled slow and heavy over your cunt.
“I also read about your kind. Studied your anatomy,” he admitted, tongue flicking out to trace your neck.
“You lied about it before.” You managed a shaky laugh that broke into a gasp. “Didn’t have you for the reading type.”
“I’m smart as fuck, Princess. I’m not just hired muscle.” He bit down on your neck mid-sentence, sharp and sudden, and your eyes flew wide, mouth dropping open.
A loud sound cut through your haze, footsteps echoing off the alley walls and you both froze. His hand left your mouth, tapping the vambrace on his shoulder. The air around you shimmered, cloaking you both in invisibility, the world warping into a heat-hazed blur. Neither of you moved.
The footsteps grew closer. A shadow got bigger across the narrow path and your stomach dropped when you recognized the broad-shouldered silhouette.
Serion.
“Fuck—” The curse slipped out under your breath.
Kel’Rakur’s palm slowly pressed over your mouth, firm and rough, sealing in the desperate sound.
Your eyes turned wide, shocked with the lewd thrill of it, but he didn’t look at you. His gaze locked on the approaching prince, tracking every step, every shift in his posture.
Then, without breaking that stare, the hand still buried between your thighs dragged slowly through your slick folds. His rough finger teased your entrance, pressing just enough to make your legs quake, daring you to stay silent while Serion prowled within arm’s reach.
Kel’Rakur finally turned his head, yellow eyes burning into yours, glowing with that new challenge you had just given him.
That bastard was testing you, seeing how much you could take without breaking, with the prince close enough to hear every single whimper.
Fuck.
Another muffled whine leaked past his palm as his thick finger shoved inside you, stretching your soaked cunt with a smooth slide. Your eyes darted to Serion, mere feet away now, head turning like he sensed something, but Kel’Rakur’s forehead pressed hard against yours, forcing your focus back to him.
He thrusted his finger, slow and deep, palm muffling every choked gasp while your legs trembled and your body tried to split itself between terror and the crushing need to moan.
Your eyes pleaded, stop, don’t stop, fuck, please, but the words couldn’t escape. Nothing had ever filled you like this, perfectly rough, perfectly sized, splitting you open while you drowned in the threat of getting caught.
He eased his hand from your mouth, thumb shoving past your lips instead. You latched onto it and bit down, hard. His eyes flared wide, shock flashing through the predatory gaze and the finger buried in your cunt twitched, diving deeper as you clenched your walls.
You bit harder, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth and a feral grin cracked your lips around his thumb.
His pupils swallowed the yellow of his irises, his head dropped, mandibles touching your shoulder as a low growl escaped him.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?”
The words sounded wrecked, spent and breathless, like he was the one about to cum. Your pussy clenched around the single finger stuffing you and you squeezed deliberately, once, twice, milking every thick ridge until his breath broke into harsh, uneven pants against your ear.
Your teeth grinding into the pad of his thumb and you clenched again, harder, watching the untouchable hunter come apart under your pussy swallowing his finger. Serion’s shadow lingered close, oblivious, but all that mattered was the way Kel’Rakur’s body shook, his composure shattering with every deep spasm of your slick walls around his rough finger.
He was done pretending he had the upper hand now.
Serion’s shadow still loomed close, his head turning slowly in your direction, scanning the empty alley like he could sense the depravity unfolding right under his nose. Your eyes stayed locked on him, making damn sure he didn’t catch the shimmer of the cloak, while your hands roamed through Kel’Rakur’s dreads, fingers digging into the thick ropes, clutching the back of his neck. He leaned into you, helpless under the pull, breath short against your skin.
“Imagine what the fuck I can do to your dick,” you whispered right into his ear, gaze never wavering from the prince.
“Shit—” The word left him, broken and breathless. His thumb yanked free from your mouth, palm sliding down to cradle your throat, pinning your head back against the wall.
“Fuck,” he snarled, frustration thick in his voice as your cunt clenched again around his digit, each greedy suck dragging a choked groan from his throat.
Then he pulled his finger out in one slide, slick snapping free. His hands hooked under your thighs, hauling you up like you weighed nothing, forcing your legs to lock around his waist. Your ass slammed back against his hips with a sharp slap that echoed off the alley walls.
Serion’s steps stuttered closer.
“Wait—wait, he’s still here,” you whimpered, legs dangling uselessly, barely able to close around the impossible span of his hips.
“Let him fucking watch.” The words came out a raw groan against your ear, and then something hot and alive nudged between your thighs.
“Hold it,” he commanded, voice stripped of everything but pure hunger. “Tight.”
Your hand fumbled blindly in the dark, fingers curling into a trembling fist around the thick, pulsing length rising between your legs. It was too much—too hot, too heavy—even with everything you had studied about Yautja cocks, the reality left you speechless.
You couldn’t see it clearly, but you felt it: the pointy tip punching out of your small grip, extending further, thicker than you had imagined, until your hand looked like a pathetic ring around a battering ram.
“Fuck—” you mouthed, certain it would either split you in half later or you’d beg for every thick inch of it.
Your eyes darted back to Serion, pulse hammering with the fear he had heard, that he had closed the distance and found you—
“Eyes on me.” Kel’Rakur’s growl cut through the panic, rough and absolute, his forehead slamming against yours to drag your focus back where it belonged.
His hips bucked up, forcing your fist to tighten around the monstrous length. You dropped your other hand, both palms struggling to hold him, fingers slicking through glowing precum with every hard thrust. It wept from the tip in thick, radiant ropes, painting your knuckles, dripping between your thighs.
“You’re so fucking big,” you gasped, the words spilling out raw and honest, something between terror and fascination.
His mandibles flared wide, a deep, rolling purr exploding from his chest and vibrating straight into his throbbing cock filling your hands. You stared down, stunned, as it pulsed in time with the sound, every ridge, every swollen vein moving with that vibration.
“Yeah, it can do that,” he clicked against your ear, a dark, teasing laugh shaking his shoulders. “Imagine what the fuck I can do to your little pussy.”
His teeth scraped your shoulder, not hard enough to tore your skin, just enough to make you hiss and you gulped down the urge to bite back, realizing he had thrown your own words right back in your face.
Serion was still there, steps faltering, head turning blindly toward the spot where you hung helpless in Kel’Rakur’s grip, hands wrapped around a vibrating, precum-slicked monster that could ruin you and make you thank it for the privilege.
But with the hunter’s forehead locked against yours, his eyes burning into you, the prince might as well have been on another planet.
All that existed was the brutal, vibrating weight of his cock trapped in your fists and the promise of what it would do to you later.
You couldn’t resist anymore, as you caught one of his thick dreads between your teeth and bit down hard. A guttural growl tore out of him, breath stuttering, hips jerking forward like you had yanked a leash.
His claws sank into your thighs, spreading you wider, the burn sweet while your back scraped the rough brick. He fucked into your fists with sloppy, desperate snaps, wet slaps echoing off the alley walls, swallowed by the low, animal noises ripping from his chest. You bit on another dreadlock now and he hissed, sharp and wrecked, head thunking against the wall beside yours.
There was nothing else now, not Serion’s retreating shadow, not the distant throb of music. Just him. His luminous eyes locked on yours, drinking in the way your breath tore from your lips, chest moving with heavy breaths, teeth biting on your bottom lip to choke back the sounds clawing up your throat every time you struggled to hold his cock.
“Your heartbeat’s gonna kill me,” he snarled, hips bucking harder, brutal and erratic, like he was trying to fuck the rhythm straight out of you. Then his grip turned tighter, claws pricking skin as his whole body locked up. Thick, warm ropes of cum shot out of him, staining your fingers, your dress, his armor in heavy pulses that painted your skin and left you gasping with every jerk.
“Fuck—” you breathed, watching stunned as the glowing seed shot high enough to streak your chest, staining the fabric.
He didn’t stop, he kept grinding through it, chasing every last drop until your hands were slick and useless around his throbbing member. Then he crushed himself against you, sliding that still-hard length along your wet pussy, pinning you to the wall. You whined, high and needy, still oversensitive.
“Was gonna take you right here,” he muttered against your ear, breathless, “till you said it’s your first time.”
You managed a broken chuckle. “So we’re not fucking?”
“If you haven’t figured it out yet,” you started, “I don’t need special treatment. I might be human, but I can—”
“Shut up.” His mandibles parted, tongue shoving past your lips in a rough lick. “I’ll take care of you because I fucking want to. Not because you need it.”
The words left you stunned and your smirk faltered. You stared at him, his breath short, taking in the sweat gleaming across his dark olive skin, pupils blown wide and fixed on you like you were the only thing that existed.
He looked wrecked and beautiful, the afterglow shining over his rough features.
“You can be gentle, guard?” you asked, twirling a cum-slick dreadlock around your fingers, tugging lightly.
“I’m not a brute, Princess.” Amusement laced the rough of his voice. “I’ll fuck you so good you’ll crawl back to me every time your fingers aren’t enough.”
Heat rose into your face and you knew you couldn’t hide it this time.
He had definitely seen you, spread out alone in your chambers, chasing your orgasm with nothing but your own hands, convinced no one was there to catch you.
“You perv,” you breathed.
He laughed, deep and rough, tongue dragging slow across the pulse in your neck as his cock still twitched against your stomach.
He eased you down slowly, steadying you when your legs felt like they were ready to fold. You wiped the mess off your thighs and hands with the hem of your dress, smearing glowing streaks across the fabric. He looked barely touched, cock already tucked away in the slit it came from, armor only faintly streaked, a few stray drops hitting the ground.
He was still trying to catch his breath when he leaned in, forehead finding yours, one hand cradling your skull. The other caught your wrist, guiding your cum-slick palm to his mouth. His tongue swept over your skin, slow and teasing, tasting himself on you while his eyes never left yours.
“Your little hands did good,” he murmured, licking the last trace away, voice low and satisfied, “and since we’re not fucking in an alley—”
“Why not?” you shot back, grinning as he dragged your sticky hand across his chest, pecs flexing under your palm like he was putting on a private show.
“Because we’re not.” He said flatly.
Both his hands locked around your wrists now and he pulled them up to his face. You cupped his mandibles on instinct, thumbs brushing the rough plates and his eyes slid shut for a second, just pure relief painting his features, like he’d been patiently waiting for that soft touch.
And he couldn’t get enough of it once he had it.
He guided your hands over his throat, his shoulders, anywhere he could reach, greedy for every brush of your fingers, every drag of your nails upon his cold skin.
“Let me show you what real fun looks like.”
His gaze snapped open, sharp and wicked, mandibles clicking playfully.
Before you could throw another protest, he snatched your wrist and hauled you straight back toward the building.
He scooped his mask off the ground in one smooth grab, slammed it on as the red HUD flared to life just as the sound of heavy bass and dancing bodies welcomed you back.
