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The smell is stronger here. That incredible, intoxicating,primalscent is centered right around her. Blood rushes to my cock and I’m immediately stiff and aching. My breath quickens and every muscle in my body tightens and tingles in anticipation. She smells like a mixture ofsexandprey,and it’s making my instincts go wild.
Stiffly, trying to keep myself together, I hold out the jar.
Chelsea says something, and her teats shift in the tunic as she reaches out for the gift. My cock throbs even harder, and my control frays away as she takes it and comments on something, her laughter floating through the air around us.
Then she turns and walks away, and those instincts of mine go haywire.
I growl, snatching her up and moving to the table. She has places set for us, and I rake them aside with one arm as I press her down over the surface. Her plump backside quivers as I drag her leggings down, and when I pull the human garment called “panties” off of her, the scent of her cunt makes my mouth flood with need. The urge to rip my cock free, to shove into her and pound away, overwhelms me.
Control yourself. Control yourself. Does she want this? Is she wet?
Wet. Yes. I need her wet.
Dimly, I hear Chelsea’s light giggles as I rub a hand down her flank. She says something, a question in her voice, but the pulse pounding in my ears won’t let me focus on anything but her scent, her cunt. I drag my fingers through her folds from behind, testing her wetness even as my cock throbs and spurts with pre-cum.
She moans at my touch, quivering.
Not wet enough, though. Even as lost as I am in this moment, I know that. So I take deep, gulping breaths, trying to figure out how to get my cock inside her without hurting her.
Licking. Yes, that’s what she needs. She needs my tongue on her cunt. Shelovesthat.
I shove her legs further apart and kneel between them, burying my face between her glorious thick buttocks and lapping at her cunt. She squeals, squirming against me, but the hot scent of her is intense here. It makes me want her even more. I drag my tongue over her, working it against the entrance of her body even as I find her clit and tease it with my thumb. She jerks against me, her hips twitching, and then her questioning words change to moans of pleasure. With every pass of my thumb over her clit, she gets wetter and wetter, until my tongue is making wet sounds against the entrance of her body and her slickness is everywhere.
Pulling back, I test her wetness, stroking two fingers deep inside of her. She moans again, and I feel her body reacting to my touch. I slide in easily, though, and I work my fingers in and out, driving into her with mindless fascination as the blood pounds in my ears and the urge to mate continues to drown out my senses.
She moans again and slaps her bared flank, a gesture that indicates she wants me inside her. With a growl, I reach over and nip the spot she just spanked, and her squeal makes me lose control. I bury my face between her buttocks again, my hands freed to rip at my clothes. I’m dimly aware as I tear my cock free from my trou that I’ve already come once, my pants soaked, but that doesn’t matter. I’m hard and throbbing and ready to go a dozen times over.
I tongue her one last time and then get to my feet, standing over her sprawled thighs. I run a hand over her hip, even as I take myself in hand and fit the head of my cock to her entrance. She makes a whimpering sound as I push into her, and when I sink into the delicious, wet glove of her body, the primal instincts take over me again. I anchor one hand on her shoulder, the other onto her hip, and pound away.
Shuttling into her hard and fast, it doesn’t take long before I come. Spots flood my vision and I growl with my release, flooding seed into her body. It makes her even wetter, her scent becoming that much more intoxicating, and I keep going. More. More. More.
By the time I come inside her twice more, my seed is dripping down my thighs, onto the table and floor, and Chelsea is sticky with my release all over. The throbbing in my ears eases a bit, and I’m dimly aware of my female—my mate, my Chelsea—gulping for air on the table. Her face is flushed and sweaty, her mouth slack.
I run my hand over her backside, where I’ve left a red mark from clutching her so hard. “Chelsea? Did I…hurt you?”
“Six,” she wheezes. “Six orgasms. I’m dead now.”
I rumble with laughter, sliding my cock out of her messy body. “I’ll get towels.” The moment I move free, the urge to return to the hot, damp clasp of her cunt returns, and I hesitate. That scent is still in the air, but it’s muffled now with the scent of our matings. I get a towel from the kitchen and wet it, and grab a second one to clean up the mess on the table. Returning to Chelsea, I bathe the insides of her thighs, loving her little squeals she makes with every touch of the cool, damp cloth.
Strangely enough, it’s moments like this that are going to gut me. Moments where we share mating—no matter how frenzied—and then the awkward, tender moments afterward. I like taking care of her. I like knowing that someone is tending to her needs. I like being the one to look after Chelsea. I run the cloth over the flushed folds of her cunt and sigh. “I’m going to miss this.”
She stiffens and I realize what I’ve said aloud. “Miss this?” she echoes. “What do you mean?”
I finish washing her off and turn my attentions to myself as she sits up. “Job’s done in port. We’re heading out the day after tomorrow.”
“Oh,” she says softly. Then she’s silent as I finish mopping my cock and thighs, and clean up the table and the drips that made it to the floor. Just seeing how wild our mating was is making my cock stir—or maybe it’s that strange, wicked scent that still lingers in the air.
But Chelsea is awfully quiet.
I toss the towels into the basket she keeps for laundry and then return to her side, offering a hand to help her down from the table.
She doesn’t take it.
I feel the need to say something. Anything. She’s too quiet, her face too carefully blank. “It was a contract job. Expanding port, that is. The lord that runs this place wanted another shuttle docking station for quick cargo runs. I think this place has probably been growing a lot more than anticipated. Anyhow, it’s more or less complete. Just needs some wiring. Lighting. Stuff like that.”
She’s still quiet. After a moment, she looks over at me. “So what’s next for you?”
“Another job.” I can’t help but reach out and touch her. Her mane is tangled around her collar and I work it free with my claws, skimming my fingers through her soft hair. “On another planet. I’m told this one’s full of jungle and lots of venomous snakes. Gonna be keffing awful, but I’ve had worse jobs before.”
