Then he leaned down and kissed them, tongue plunging into their mouth and bringing a needy whine from them. He kissed them hard and messy as he played with their nipples, twisting and pinching. They bowed off the mattress, clinging to his broad shoulders, and he ground down on them, his cock straining in his shorts.
Kissing down their neck, he licked at their pulse point and worried it with his teeth before he went lower. They keened up at the ceiling as his hot, wet mouth closed over their right nipple, tongue swirling. He sucked and pulled on the barbell, and Cya undulated beneath him, hands fisting in the fur of his neck. They nearly sobbed his name, and he snarled fiercely, teeth grazing over their sensitive flesh.
He moved to their other nipple and gave it the same treatment, and the pleasure was so much, too much. They begged him not to stop, even as they yanked on his fur to pull him off them. Their tail slapped against the mattress, twisting and spasming.
“How do I make you come?” he asked, mouthing at the fleshy swell of their breast. “Tell me what feels good, Cy.”
Since his fingers were still playing with their nipples, they struggled to focus enough to form words, so they grabbed at his shoulders and urged him back up. He came willingly until he was stealing their gasps with another kiss.
“I want you to come, baby,” he said, and they shook their head, then they nodded, then shook their head again. “Cya, tell me what you need.”
Honestly, it was a monumental ask, but they did their best to comply. “Lower.” They framed his hips and pushed him lower until his weight settled over their groin. “Pressure. Here. Please.”
Lying almost completely flat atop of them, he ground his erection into them, the hard column sliding along their slit though their skirt, and they met his thrusts desperately. It was almost enough, but the scarred remains of their hemipenes needed more. If only the doctors hadn’t cut them up, then maybe their clits wouldn’t be so fucking useless.
“I can’t,” they choked out, starting to panic now. “It’s not working. I can’t.”
“Shh, easy, baby.” Dex kissed them, cutting off their hysteria as he gentled his hands, kneading their breasts instead of plucking at their nipples. Even his rolling hips slowed, which had any hint of orgasm fading. But the reprieve of stimulation helped center them again. “I’m right here. I’m with you. You’re doing so good.”
Hands trembling, they loosened their death grip on the back of his neck, and he rumbled his approval. “There you go. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’m right here, and I got you. Just feel. All you need to do is feel.”
They opened their eyes, and he was right there, mouth hovering of theirs, eyes sharp and bright. “Dex.”
“I’m here, baby. Just breathe.”
Slowing their own disjointed rhythm, they rubbed up against him in an easy grind, and this time, the thick knot at the base of his cock pushed right against their clits. They groaned, and Dex nodded in encouragement. Or approval, maybe.
“That’s it,” he said, kissing them as he gently started playing with their nipples again. “Find what feels good.”
Head falling back on the bed, Cya closed their eyes and focused on the sensations. Dex’s fingers rolling and pinching. His mouth sucking and licking. And his knot. Gods, his glorious knot, so hard and thick, right where they needed it.
“Oh gods,” they gasped as the pleasure started to build again.
It was slower this time, a gradual encroachment instead of demanding waves. They tried not to focus on it too hard, knowing they’d lose it if they did. So they ran their fingers through his hair as he sucked on their pulse point, grinding against his knot in a consistent rhythm.
“Oh my gods, Dex,” they whimpered, and he growled again.
“That’s right. You’re doing so good, baby. Don’t stop now.” He pinched their nipples a little harder, and they mewled. “Keep grinding on my knot. Just like that. You’re so sexy.”
The praise filled their belly with joy, and their core tightened. “Oh fuck, I—Dex, I need—please.”
He grunted and ground down even harder. “You wanna come on my knot, highness?”
With a pathetic sob, they nodded, and he chuckled darkly.
“Then come,” he said, like an invitation. “Come on my knot, and let me hear you.”
Chanting his name, they pushed against his knot as they clung to his shoulders. He raked his teeth over their throat and pinched their nipples. His knot swelled impossibly harder and seemed to pulse.
“I can’t wait to come over all over you, so everyone will know who fucked you,” he purred, and that was it.
Cya came in a bright burst of color, nerve-endings firing, limbs spasming, hips jerking. Dex didn’t stop his ministrations, prolonging their pleasure as they nearly wept from the ecstasy and joy and relief. So much relief, because they’d spent their life terrified that they were too broken, too ruined to ever experience this.
But here they were, in the arms of the man who saw them—truly saw them—and wanted them. Every part, every piece. No more pretending. No more hiding. They were finally seen and understood and loved, for all that were and all that they weren’t.
Cya could be Cya, and Dex would love them for it.
“Thank you,” they sighed as Dex rubbed his furry cheek against theirs, rumbling happily. “Oh my gods, thank you.”
