Page 10 of The Commander

She doubled back. He heard her go into the room with the escape he’d promised her, the sound of her boots echoing across his sensors as they scraped through the minutiae of broken, dusty bits on the floor. Shoved full of trash and old furniture when they claimed the building, Bastian had left the room as it had been, a testament to futile resistance.

Here, the trailing glow of her life force was a beacon of red smears and drops easily followed. Her naked, female shape was squeezed tight and silent on top of old trash inside of a large, partially closed corner cabinet. A plain old human monster wouldn’t know where she was.

Not that it mattered. If she had made it outside, he would have brought her down in the mud behind the school.

Another time he might tease her more, crash about, go in the wrong direction again or tear the room apart. Inhale her fear scent, listen for her heartbeat. It was a fun game.

But now, urgency gripped him. The aching meat of his cock had become very uncomfortable. Awkward in its demand.

It was time to claim what belonged to him. He pushed objects aside, his gaze locked on the place she hid herself. Some of the lighter materials bounced off walls, knocking other shit over. He didn’t care. No one would come because of the noise.

“Come out, Kitten.” He opened the tall door of what looked like an old metal cabinet.

Screaming, a length of metal in her hand, she attacked, jumping down from a precarious stack of boxes and books. Snapping his lower mouth closed, he snatched her out of the air before she could damage herself. Stuff rocked and crashed behind her, falling to the floor. The metal bar from her hand landed a blow on his head, his shoulders, and whatever she could reach.

She didn’t understand the natural armor of his exoskeleton.

There was naked skin in his hands. Bared flesh against his sensory hairs. The feel of her. Every one of his alter senses went into overload. The strikes she delivered didn’t affect him half as much as touching her. Distracted, he nearly tripped over the crap surrounding them.

Bringing her down, he buried his face between her breasts, opening his mouth and licking. He dined on her flavor. Oblivious to everything outside of her body. This fucking woman. So good. More. He must have more.

She kicked and screamed in rage, rejecting his touch. He wrenched the bar away from her before carrying her into the hall where there was some light. It was vitally important she saw him and everything he did to her.

“You asshole alien. Let me go. I don’t want this. Don’t touch me. Disgusting monster!” She rained curses down on his head as she fought.

Her struggle gave him no room to be careful not to hurt her. If he attempted to be gentle, she would fall to the floor. She had to escape him now because they both knew that if she didn’t, nothing could stop the consequences.

For Bastian, it was too late. His fate had been called hours ago when he took in her scent and set her aside for himself instead of letting the grunts have her.

“You know, don’t you? You feel it. You hate it, but you can’t deny you feel it,” he purred into her ear.

She wanted this as much as he did. He was sure of it. It would be both their ruin, but he wouldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait. Nothing hid the smell of wanton arousal between her thighs. His touch affected her as her touch infected him. Fucking perverse for her, he guessed.

She must really hate him. A grin spread across his face. What prey truly wanted to be conquered? It was only right that they started this at odds.

Lifting her above his head, he dragged her body along the ridges of his face until he could put his nose right at the apex between her legs.

“You feel it.” He said into the soft, wet skin of her center.

“Get away. I can’t. I won’t.” She kicked, bruising her knees.

Holding her steady, nosing deeper, his fingers sank into the soft flesh of her waist. There’d be bruises later, but he wouldn’t stop himself from indulging in her ripe, female perfume. It was a mixture shed just for him and—goddess-be-dammed. He couldn’t get enough of it.

He was a hunter. She was prey. Despite denials, she wanted to be caught. Her mind and mouth scratched at him while her succulent body summoned him with scent trails.

Her struggles continued; the blows didn’t move him. He’d suffer no bruises. She wasn’t made to fight a prime. “You are battling yourself. This is inevitable.”

With more bulk, more muscle, and heavier bones than her human body, he easily secured her against the wall to make it harder for her to kick and wiggle. As heavy as a boulder, the poor girl couldn’t move, could barely pull a breath unless he allowed it. Sweeping up one wrist and then the other, he moved back from her for an unimpeded exploration of her body, hands pinned above her head.

Their chests touched. Finally. Goddess, it was better than anything he’d ever imagined when his receptors touched her, fully, with nothing between them. Skin to skin. All the times he’d experimented, searching for pleasure, he’d never experienced anything like this.

“Fuck, woman. Fuck.” Her vulnerable, plush skin felt incredible everywhere. She was tiny, but he loved their size difference. Adorable little kitten.

Rubbing his face against the bend between her neck and shoulder, he bent himself in half to get to her tits. Beaded on her skin, her dread soaked pheromones called his name. He rubbed his face here too, an animal in rut, covering himself in her heady DNA drenched perspiration.

Their coded link slammed into his system. His mate. His claim. She was a trap designed to capture prime battlers and ensure they stopped killing long enough to fuck and perpetuate the species.

He wanted to open his lower mouth and sip up every drop of her, but she hadn’t fully accepted him. It was too early. Best not to break her mind with terror she couldn’t overcome. Instead, he licked up her human taste, reveling in her unique, addictive difference as he nuzzled deep into the lush valley of her chest.

Kitten continued to fight, to shout. He let go of one hand. She pounded at him. He ignored that. Loosening the other hand, he forced her legs wide, spreading open her lower half as he moved down her body. Her center opened fully to him, her sex meeting the uppermost ridges of his abdominals. Every one of his senses celebrated in delight where they touched.

Her shouts changed to pleas and cries as her brain registered her new position.

There was a dire threat of devastating pleasure right at her feminine core.

She’d get over it.

Turning his head, he explored the rest of her, kissing and licking the ample softness of her breasts, seeking the circumference of her areola, the tip of her stiff nipple. He scraped his teeth over that point, teasing, threatening.

“Shit. What’s happening? Did you drug me? Something in the air? Why is this happening to me? How are you making me want this?”

Answers would come later; he was too busy listening to the involuntary guidance of her body calling his. He’d break through her last defenses and discover exactly what she needed from him to create more of those sounds of erotic surprise.

“Feels good. Doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Why? Why does it feel so good? You are a demon. A monster. It can’t feel good. I hate you.”

“Why are you so wet, then? I believe that is an indicator of arousal.” She fought him harder.

Bastian laughed against her skin. The woman’s reactions were a brilliant, enthralling map in his mind. Allowing her escape, catching her again—got her blood up—got her ready.

She had been drawn in during every second of the chase.

This was the claiming.

She had been rightfully caught. There was no escape. Now he would learn the details of her scent, her flavor, all her gorgeous sounds and cries of need. He would map all her weaknesses and learn how to own every part of her. The spice of her fear had been an appetizer compared to the tasty heat of Kitten’s growing desire.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured against her nipple before flicking it with his tongue. He traveled from one peak to the other, worshipping with his mouth, relishing in her response, noticing that when he sucked, her hips moved, seeking pressure.

“I can’t breathe. What is this feeling?” Her head was filling up with the heady fog of his mating pheromones. The irresistible aphrodisiac worked on the coding in her genes, blasting through all her reasonable flight or fight instincts with an opposing relentless drive to submit to desire and mate the one who caused it.

Listening to her heartbeat, he breathed in each helpless surge dripping from her pussy.

“Do you want me to make you feel more? Are you ready? You smell ready.” He mouthed the words into her skin. “Your smell goes right to my head. Do I smell good to you too? Do I smell right? Breathe me in. Scent me, Kitten.”

She groaned, her head rolling. He felt her chest still as she tried to hold her breath in defiance. He went back to her tits and caught one nipple in his teeth, biting until her fine muscles bunched. Kitten gasped, involuntarily sucking in air and the secretions oozing from his pores that would be her downfall. He kept going, drawing the mound of her breast deeper into his mouth, letting her feel the slightest edge of his teeth.

So good. Her responses, the feel, and taste of her amazingly satisfying.

Fascinating creature. He didn’t know why her fragile humanity felt like perfection against him, how it could—she was such a weak little thing—but it did. She was a gift. He had few of those in his life.

He needed to suck on more things. There was more he wanted to do. More he needed to have. He put both of his hands on her ass and reset her higher up the wall. Crushed with the movement, peeling paint rained down like snow, sticking to them. He didn’t care.

Her freed hands went to his head. His shoulders. Bastian wasn’t paying attention. Had to get a better taste. Must have more. He burrowed through the fine, soaked hair guarding her cunt, licking at the wet slick of her desire, grunting with wicked joy as the flavor burst over his taste buds.

This was for him. Was all his. She made noises Bastian couldn’t hear through the frenzy in his head. Nothing would make him stop the exploration of her sex. Mouthing the shape, the folds, and contours, he ran his tongue from top to bottom and back again, flicking the stiffened protrusion of her desire until the pleasure of it had her thighs shaking on his shoulders.

Absorbing her tremors, he lifted his head to look at her. The woman was a glorious mess. Dirty. Face red down to her tits, eyelashes dripping tears, lips swelled from biting, her skin spots glowed golden in the harsh old light. She’d been moaning denials, but him stopping, waiting and doing nothing made her open her eyes and look at him.

He ran his tongue down the split between her legs and up again, teasing her clit with a firm flicker of his tongue—watching her watch him from the awkward position. Wanting her to see him. Needing it.

Again. And again.

His saliva mixed with her wet center. He knew his secretions stimulated yet another irresistible aphrodisiac to her kind, mixing with her want. He did it until her sounds escalated, her inhibitions discarded.

“Oh, god. I’m going to come.”

He stopped. That was it. Her female orgasm. The information he required filtered through his own wants. “‘ A transient peak sensation of intense pleasure, creating an altered state of consciousness. ’”

He needed her to come first, because the bitch goddess of his people must have her due.

“This is mine. I am claiming this.” His voice was dark, cold. Did she hear it? Take note? Feel this declaration the way he did?

She didn’t. Not yet. Her carnal need and confusion left her dazed. Good. Perhaps it would make her more agreeable. Taking her from the wall, he laid her on the ground, bending her legs up, over his shoulders so he could return to his decadent meal.

Her muddled gaze watched him as he tenderly kissed her mound. Right at the top of her slit. Closing his hands tighter on the luscious curve of her ass, he squeezed until the sharp bite claimed attention. “Say yes, Bastian.”

She blinked her eyes clear. Turned her head away. Lifted one hand as if she thought she should fight. “No. No. No. I don’t know what this is. What is happening?”

“This is my pussy. I’m claiming it. No one touches it but me,” Bastian told her. It was simple, really. What didn’t she understand?

He was her poison. Her bane. And she would know it. His mating fluid was all over her body, his saliva, the pre-cum dripping copiously from his dick, all the inhaled pheromones, had gone to work on them both the instant he stopped moving forward with the mating.

Each second pushed on their bodies. Itched and buzzed. Then finally, burned. The need to fuck was more than mere desire and more than a thickened cock signaling interest and readiness. It pulled and twisted with vicious demand until nerve endings screamed.

They were matched. Their biology locked. They would mate. Or they would die.

Kitten had no defense against the building need. He knew it. Her mind didn’t know how to classify such things.

He held her with him and watched, eyes across the curve of her belly and breasts.

When he didn’t move, she bucked. Tried to sit up. Kicked her feet. “What are you doing? Second thoughts? Let me go, then.” He was silent.

It took her longer to feel the heat. Cupping her breasts, he could see that her nipples had puffed up and turned a bright, angry red. “What is this? What did you do to me? Venom or something?”

It wasn’t. And yet it was. The alien genetics planted in her ancestry had woken from dormancy. Like him, she had little choice. He wouldn’t tell her that, though. This woman had tried to kill herself rather than be raped by the red hats.

She was good prey. This claiming was against her will. The chase, finished. He’d won. There was no option to leave.

“It hurts. I hurt. My tits, my pussy burns…shit, what did you do?”

His cock hurt, too. Just as much. A burn as volatile as ship fuel, scalding his balls. He ignored it and blew a puff of breath on her exposed clit.

“Oh.” She jolted as if he bit her. “Can you do that again? That makes it better. More.”

When he didn’t follow up the stimulation, she got an extra helping of pain. Wracking her body like a contraction, he saw her muscles clench and felt a painful echo in his own body.

“I need you to touch me. I think that will make it better,” she admitted with a petulant whine.

He didn’t move. “This is mine. Say, ‘Yes, Bastian.’”

“No!” she spat out. But her denial was followed by waves of pain that he watched cross over her abdomen.

Bastian felt the same at the self-denial, biting back a grimace as knots tangled and yanked in his muscles and molten fire burned down the length of the veins of his cock. He’d lost an arm in battle once, and the whole process of its loss and regrowth hadn’t hurt half as much.

Kitten lay back and moaned as her body made demands for relief. Nerves humming with stress, she tried to deny herself to the last vestiges of her stubborn will.

It was too late. Her body required his and his alone.

Bastian waited.

“Why does it hurt? Did you do this? Please. Stop this. Please.”

He wouldn’t go forward until she gave him her full verbal consent. He would have it. It might end up as her nightmare, a demon’s bargain, as her kind would say, and he was her demon. “Kitten, only you can make it stop hurting. Only you. Say yes to me. Say, ‘yes, Bastian.’ Say what I want to hear, and I will make this discomfort go away.”

“Discomfort?” she gasped out, her fists pounding the floor in disbelief.

It was much more than discomfort. A mottled, raised blotchy pattern of hives appeared on her chest and belly, spreading up her throat to her jaw. The same, hot, angry red had already darkened into purple on her inner thighs, ass, and pussy.

Bastian’s own rash happened under his skin. A nasty, scraping, incessant scrawl, burning in every area where they’d made contact. “Let me make us feel better. Let me make it good.”

He started the ritual again, mouthing her swollen center. Bathing her pain in what she needed, more of his prime battler soaked DNA. The mating heat engorged the inner flesh of her slit to a gorgeously obscene violet, the peak of her clit bursting several times its normal size, infected with him. Licking each fold of her vulva, her taste sank deeper and deeper into his system.

The blood in his cock sizzled, the skin too tight to contain his want, pink pre-lubrication spurting from the tip.

He had to challenge her again. Words eluded him. He was in sensory overload, only able to think: she’s so soft. She’s so incredibly soft and sweet. He wanted to drink her up, nibble on her, suckle her, but if nothing changed, this was good. He would die here, a dried out husk, caught on the edge of repletion. They would both die if she didn’t concede and consent.

Tonguing her from end to end, he mercilessly returned to her clit, flicking the delicate hill to the edge of an orgasm, then pulling back to look at her—waiting until she opened her eyes.

Her body told him she’d never known a male. She had no experience strengthening her against what he offered her. It was new. Unexpected. He was proud she could fight him at all.

They were together in their firsts. “This is mine. I’m claiming this. I’m claiming you. Say, ‘yes, Bastian.’”

His woman let out a moan that he felt vibrate under his hands.

“Yes or no, Kitten.” His torments were not random. They were in cycles of ritual, keeping his own raging lust in check, the first stop in a bond that would tie them their entire lives. There would be no stopping and walking away if she refused him. Enjoying every methodical moment, he licked, strummed, and tasted in repetition, not once allowing her to fall over into the bliss she wanted.

“Fine. Yes. I’m dying. Okay. Just make it stop. Yes. Yes, Commander Bastian.”

“That’s right. This pussy is mine. You are mine,” he said against her plump mound, his teeth nicking skin.

The sting went unnoticed. She was too far gone. Her knees shaking, she grabbed at his head, trying to put his mouth deeper where she needed. Allowing it, Bastian refocused on the turgid peak and suckled until her ass clenched and her body twisted in his hands. Her head knocked against the floor, and she screamed, the sound surprised, changing quickly to choking and throaty. He loved the honesty of it and sucked in a rhythm until he felt her whole body tighten into a bow before relaxing everywhere.

There would be no respite. Not now that he had her agreement. Permission for blood. Permission for body. He didn’t need permission to own her human soul.

The light infused liquid of her pleasure coated his whole face. He licked all of it up, not allowing her to relax, probing as deep as he could and wishing he could open his lower mouth and go deeper.

But it wasn’t time yet. She wasn’t ready yet. No. She needed his seed to be completely filled, fucked and mated so that there was no going back.

Bastian sat up. Had to take a breath. “One.” Breathe in, breathe out.

“No. Can’t.” She protested, her sweet, full mouth turning down. One knee fell to the side, exposing a dripping, eager sex. He didn’t know if she did it on purpose or if she was too drugged with pleasure and his scent to care.

“Two.” He continued to count, smoothing his hands over her body. Finding his control while he checked her for any injuries caused in their tussle that might make the next step difficult.

“Please.” the word escaped her through gritted teeth.

“Three.” Breath in. Breath out.

“What are you?” She was adorable in her confusion. But Bastian didn’t have the energy to focus on answers. He had to get to twenty so he could rut and satisfy them both.

She tried to sit up. He pinned her to the floor with one hand on the throat. “Four.”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re going to kill me now?”

Breathe in. Breathe out. “Five.”

She blinked at him; her mind unable to comprehend. He couldn’t stop to explain. But kept his hand at her throat, searching her bones for injuries, checking every scrape and bruise.

“Six.”

“I can’t run. I can’t move. I hurt. Why do I hurt so much? That burn is coming back. I feel it. I can’t do it. Alien—I can’t do it.” Her voice broke and tears welled.

“Seven.” He kept all his touches as gentle as he could. She was clueless of his struggle, unaware of how bad the red blotches were getting—minutes from covering her from head to toe, boiling her blood in her skin. He tried his best not to aggravate the hives by rubbing them.

“Eight,” he said. Turning her over, he checked and doubled checked at her joints.

Breath in. Breath out. Shoulders, knees, ankles above her shoes. “Nine.”

When he got to twelve, he helped her get to her hands and knees, face down, ass up. Positioning himself behind her, he took his cock in hand, a grimace cutting his mouth because of the extreme rasp caused by the wrong kind of contact.

His hand should not be on the sensitive organ right now. Only her touch, her body. It was no comfort for a prime to handle himself. He was used to that, but this harsh touch was worse than ever before.

Yet, he had to. Spreading the pre-cum, he made sure he was fully coated in their blended fluids down to his base. Hers was clear, his was pink, making the mess he covered his angry dark member with easy to see. He was thorough, breathing through pain, counting down to the last two numbers.

“Eighteen.”

“I’m dying. Did you kill me? You poisoned me.” Kitten laid her hands to the side, as if too weak to hold herself up.

“Nineteen.” Squeezing his cock he oozed the fluid out from him to her, spreading it everywhere he could reach that he saw the dangerous hives. Breath in. Breath out.

“Oh, please yes. What is that? Yes. That’s better. Feels so good.”

“Twenty.” Bastian slipped a finger through her folds, and tested her soaked entrance, feeling the shape of her tiny hole.

“Yes. Okay.” She said, feeling him, answering him before he could ask. Hot and quivering, her body tried to draw him deep.

Ass in the air, she braced herself. His semen would give her relief from the burning, save her life from the hives. Somewhere she must understand that.

It was time to take what was his. Mate her. He didn’t care about their difference, or that they were in a dirty hallway. He’d won. He wanted his prize.

Taking position behind her, he fit them together as best he could. Not like animals. Her limbs were too short for proper execution. He had to drape her over his lap, rubbing the plum head of his cock at her channel, his alien biology to her drenched human femininity. He thought his eyes would roll back in his head at the intensity that sang through millions of raw nerve endings.

So good.

Every pass stirred the delicate thread of the hidden frillium seeder hiding on the underside of his cock. The mating proboscis like feeler screamed at him to end the torture of waiting.

Her moans as his guide, he teased her, back and forth.

“Yes. That. More,” she mewled to him, begging for what he had to give her.

Bastian reveled in her needy, pleasure drugged transformation. “Who owns this pussy?”

“Commander Bastian.” She didn’t hesitate with her answer, squirming her backside against the curve of his body, trying to get him closer to her.

Holding her high against his body, he put himself in the succulent vee of her flesh, enjoying the fresh waves of her magnificent feminine slick. Nothing would stop him from uniting them together. Her hips squirmed, her back arched. He could feel her tits sway against his hands on her rib cage.

He imagined her swollen, red nipples and reached one hand to see, capturing a curve in his palm and pinching a tender bud until she cried out.

“Should I stop? Because this is permanent, Kitten. I’ll have all of you. Every piece of you. Pleasure and pain. You won’t have any secrets from me after this, and my claim is forever. Should I stop?”

If he did, they would both die. He wasn’t going to do any such idiotic thing. But what would she say?

She’d left the ability to form thoughts far behind. “Please. Need. Please.”

“You want me to fuck you? You need me to fuck you?” He aggravated them both, relishing her surrender.

“Yes,” she groaned the word into a howl as he pushed the head of his cock into her entrance. Her body seized at the first full kiss of their size differences.

He thought she might protest. Instead, one of her hands reached back to claw at his hip. The saucy girl opened her legs wide, boots stomping on the floor for leverage, and attempted to impale herself on him.

He laughed at that.

She had the audacity to growl at him in frustration, his blunt tip slipping past where she wanted it. Her opening really was too small but still beautifully silky. Wet. He liked it wet.

This would go at his pace. Right at her hole, the pressure created a pounding in the back of his eyes and drew up his testes, tight and eager. His frillium lashed against the inside of his skin to be let free.

“Oh. Shit. Please.”

“Deeper,” he grunted the word as the muscles under his exoskeleton constricted from his chest to his abdominals while a line of fire surged down his spine into a knot of fury at the base of his pulsing member. She struggled, hissing through her teeth. Keeping her lifted high, he tightened the arm that held her.

Bastian echoed her noises as his frillium went up in flames too. He’d never been in a rut like this. It hurt more than expected, but the pleasure made him want more.

He popped through her entrance and slid deep. She shrieked, her body clenching all over with pain, but didn’t fight. She might be the most velvety, fragile thing in the universe, but her body rippled with power as she took him inside. The fit was tight, leaving the moisture they were gushing together trapped in her tunnel.

He hummed; an ancient noise created behind his rib cage and between his shoulder blades but inside his body. The ancient beings of his race once had wings. Now, battlers could only remember the sensation of true flight when mating. Using the tiny, leftover bones of his evolution, he rattled and vibrated for her.

He knew she heard a buzzing hum that would ease the tension of their size difference and open her up. A call from his body to hers.

Lowering one hand to clutch at the area where they were joined, his palm over her clit, he pressed inward. Using his fingers stretching her open in a V to ease his entrance.

The hum helped her. Her noises were pleasure and pain as she helplessly relaxed, allowing him to sink deeper into a human shape that shouldn’t be able to contain all of him.

Yet she did.

He’d have to look up how and why later. Much later. Never having done this he’d had no idea just how much instinct would control him. There was research, and there was real life. Someone was going to pay for keeping all this information from him. Later.

They were almost there. He bent her forward.

Head down, as if she knew what to do, she braced her hands on the floor, moving carefully so that he didn’t leave the channel of her core. In a synchronized dance, they changed positions as one. He shifted. She grunted as his cock stretched her hole even more.

“Poor Kitten. Poor sweet kitty.” She was a refuge. A home. And she fit him. He covered her with his body, sheltering her beneath his, chest against her back, pumping into her.

The curve of her hips, the line of her spine, drew his eyes like an arrow right to the nape of her neck. Where his teeth needed to be. Being bathed and cradled in Kitten’s core wasn’t enough. He had to have his teeth in her skin, her blood in his mouth before his frillium would lock down in the wall of her vagina and his cum could fill her. Needed. Fucking had to.

Moving slow and steady, he began to rut in her. A delicious in and out, his cock scraping the walls of her center. She called out to her god. Begged him to keep going. “It’s too much. Oh please. Please.”

“Do you want to escape me now? You know where the door is.” Saying that was difficult. Was he panting the words like an out of breath fool?

More. He had to have more. In and out. Humping her. A beast now. His body was as slicked up as hers. They exchanged fluids, easing the hives, tracking the mating call.

Still moving, he lifted his chest off her back as if he were leaving her.

“No! Can’t you finish? Can’t you—something? Make me cum again? You come? Something?”

She didn’t know what she needed, but he did. He surely did.

“Rock back against me. Can you take me deeper?” He gripped her tighter.

“Deeper?” she repeated the question. Stupefied, he guessed, but rocked anyway, chasing the same fulfillment he chased.

From the outside, she looked human, from the inside, she had something very unhuman that made her the perfect mate. Her body accommodated his as he continued to hum and fuck his cock into her. Her tunnel opened more to him, squeezing in delicious welcome.

He knew it hurt. Must hurt. He thrust into her until he saw her bare knees streak red on the floor. Then made a decision, pulled out, sat back.

Her peak building, Kitten complained. She reached for him. “What? Why are you doing this to me?”

He grabbed her waist, lifted, turned her facing him, and sat her back down on his dick. Hard. They both moaned at the feeling. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, the girl didn’t wait a second to start chasing her pleasure again using desperate bounces. She pursued her need like she fought, with howls and aggression through the sting.

With one hand on her ass and one for balance, he lifted her on her upward bounce, then let her fall, simulating the pounding he couldn’t do on this floor without damaging her.

He’d have that again later.

Now, he had to have that place behind her ear where all her scent was gathered, and the tip of his tongue made her shiver. He kissed her neck, and she kissed him back, opening her mouth and scraping her teeth against his skin. Driving him insane with her acceptance.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded. Following the line from neck to shoulder, he chose a place for his mark. Tucking her into his chest, cock buried deep, the pressure between them built. Kitten was a slick live wire of want, as consumed as he was by the act of mating and becoming one.

He opened his lower mouth on her shoulder at the same time as he felt the sensitized agony of his frillium fully attaching. The thread thin, highly sensitive organ locked onto the soft sponge of her innermost secret flesh, tying them together. She clenched and spasmed around him as if struck by a bolt of lightning.

He bit her. Sank teeth into her shoulder, but she barely noticed. Instead, she shivered, breath leaving her body in a choked gasp as her orgasm started, her pussy fluttering around his cock, squeezing his frillium, accepting him.

Stars burst in his black heart, world exploding, his dick gripped by her walls, locked to her by his minor and major seeders. Cum boiled up from his balls in his first full, mated orgasm. He wanted to roar with his release but couldn’t move from her shoulder, where her blood filled his mouth and went right to his head.

The circle of their pleasure went on and on, wave after wave of energy. Catching her breath, Kitten made noises of all kinds while using her knees for leverage to move in his lap.

The pull of his frillium to her innermost tissues made her whine and do it again and again.

He couldn’t speak. His lower mouth open, he sucked greedily at the blood of her wound. Holding her tight in his arms, he made sure Kitten couldn’t go far as he kept cumming. Their release dripped from their bodies, and still, his frillium stayed locked. Filling her with his alien semen. With their future. Together, they made a lovely sticky mess on his thighs.

One of Kitten’s hands moved up the back of his neck feeling the slightly thicker, bristles on his scalp, while the other pet over his body, as if she just discovered the fine sensory hairs there. “What did you do? What did you do to me?”

“I have claimed you.”