Everything sharpens.
The feel of his grip tightening slightly at my side, the way his breath brushes against my skin, the way the space that once felt too small now feels like it exists only for this.
His hand slides to the small of my back, and he crushes me against him in a fierce, possessive hug. A low growl escapes his throat, but not an angry growl. No, this is…hungry.
Hungry for me.
His mouth is on my neck, and the juxtaposition of his soft lips and hard, sharp teeth drives me crazy. Not to mention his soft, dry scales and his hot, wet mouth…
I clutch at Hrask’s huge head, pulling him into me. His cock twitches hard beneath his uniform, then strains against the fabric as if desperately trying to be free. He unsnaps my fly with incredible dexterity for someone with such huge hands.
A deep moan escapes my throat, and right now I don’t care if someone hears it. Instinct and desire have taken over fully. My trousers slide off, baring my legs. He runs his palm along the curve of my hip down to my thigh. With somewhat less alacrity, I undo his buckle and free his cock from its prison.
A gasp issues from my mouth as I feel his rod. Throbbing hardness so thick I can barely get my hand around it. I explore him even as he explores me. Hrask’s fingers slide through the groove of my pussy and come away wet.
Hrask lifts me off my feet with one arm. I move my body to accommodate his weapon as it slides slowly inside of me. My eyes flutter closed as he stretches me, fills me, not painfully but quite fully. I can feel his heartbeat throbbing inside of me.
I hate the Grolgath. I hate the coalition. But I don’t hate this. It’s so raw and natural, primal, that logic is gone out the window. I wrap my legs around his waist as he leans into his thrusts. Pleasure crackles from my pussy, spreading all throughout my body.
I can’t help it. My mouth flies open with deep, guttural cries of passion.
“Hush, sweet Jolie,” he growls barely above a whisper, his hand again covering my mouth. I let out my sharp, lusty exhalations against his huge palm. His claws scratch against my cheek, not enough to draw blood but enough that I can feel their sharpness.
Our bodies move together as if on instinct. For a bad decision, this feels amazing. Like I’ve waited my whole life for this moment without realizing it. He could crush me like an insect, yet I feel safe in his grasp. Safe enough to relax, submitting to being silenced--well, sort of. Some sound still escapes. His heavy grunts and growls fill the tiny room, to. Some part of my brain still capable of rational thought realizes the patrol sweep must have moved on.
He strains taut as a bowstring against me, releasing his seed. His cock throbs like mad, and I fly over the threshold of climax without stopping to blink. I grab his scaled body, and scream into his hand as pulse after pulse of sheer ecstasy shoots through me.
Time stretches, compresses, loses structure entirely as the moment deepens, as proximity turns into something more consuming, something that leaves no room for the outside world. The corridor, the sweep, the risk—all of it fades until the only thing that matters is the contact, the heat, the undeniable pull that neither of us is resisting anymore.
When it finally slows, it doesn’t end cleanly.
It fades in layers, breath by breath, movement by movement, until the space between us starts to exist again.
I step back first.
I have to.
The distance feels wrong immediately, like something just got torn away too quickly, but I force it anyway, dragging a hand through my hair as I try to pull myself back into something controlled.
“That changes nothing,” I say, my voice steady even as my pulse refuses to settle.
Hrask watches me, his expression unreadable for a second before something faintly knowing slips through.
“Sure,” he says.
I shoot him a sharp look.
“I mean it.”
“Yeah,” he replies. “I know.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m not.”
I exhale sharply, crossing my arms as if that creates distance that actually matters.
“This was a mistake.”
