Page 63 of Alliance
“I-I don’t know. I’m not programmed for this.”
“Then you need to tell me as we go.”
His other hand slid off my knee, blazing a trail along my inner thigh. His grip on my neck tightened just so as he angled my face down so I could see his middle finger disappear into the curve of my mound.
My breath stuttered out of my lungs as he pressed his finger pad against my entrance, dabbing at the fluids gathering there. He spread them up and down, up and down, working warmth into my folds, exploring as his index and middle fingerstretched me open, then pressed on my clit, pinched my labia, or raked his claws carefully over the quaking fat of my inner thigh.
At first it was too new and contrary to stir anything in me at all. Part of me was uncomfortable, even. He wasn’t supposed to spend time on me. I was supposed to dote on him instead. Loosen him up, satiate his lust, be his pet.
He whined, rocking his cock against my back as he gnawed on my shoulder, licking my skin with that wide pink tongue. “I want to own you, Roz. I want your cunt to suck me in until we’re both lathered in sweat. It hurts… Please let me fuck you.”
“N-no,” I panted. Then I squirmed, trying to move my legs off of his, and he clutched my jaw with a snarl that made his upper lip shiver on my cheekbone. He slapped my pussy hard, and I gasped at the sudden shock of heat.
Deliciousheat.
When his fingers moved to soothe the sting, I moaned, some of that hesitation melting away. He whimpered with worry against my ear.
“Sorry,” he panted. “It’s the rut. Did I hurt y—”
I yanked on his tresses, and he bared his teeth.
“Do it again,” I breathed.
The slap was instant, sharp, and needle hot, thanks to the points of his claws. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, saliva pooling in the divot of my collarbone as a sinisterhuhuhuhtumbled out of his chest with excitement.
And when he picked up circling and swooping once more, playing me like a violin, the bud of my clit was swollen and tingling. I pulled his tresses again and bit the claw pressing precariously against my bottom lip, couching my tongue against its point. Then my voice broke as he focused his efforts, and my hips gyrated with an insatiable need, winding up and up.
I fumbled my free hand between us, pulling the latches open on his pants. He snarled, but I did the same right back,lifting my shirt so his head would slip against my bare skin. I ground back on it, crushing it between us. Fásach whined again, a piercing sound in my ear that made me breathless.
“I won’t fuck you, just let me slide it through your cunt,” he panted. “Please,please—”
“No!” I cracked with giddy exhilaration, rocking my hips against his hand. He held still for me as I wet his claws, rubbing them in desperation. My breath faltered to a stop as I lifted my weight by his tresses and forearm to fuck his handjust right…
All the power in my body zeroed in on the crux of my legs. My vision dimmed, voice shattering, legs quivering. My pussythumped.Over and over like a boxer engine, shifting the foundations of what I knew to be true about myself. That I was built to be an inert vessel for someone else’sthis.This overwhelming attention tome,tomypleasure, at the hands of the person I trusted most to rise to the call of my wants and desires. Fásach, who had driven us towards the cliff until I ripped the wheel from his hands and stepped on the gas.
As I fell limp, sprawled open across his lap, his palm stroking soft, soothing circles over my pulsing sex, he panted, thrusting his hips against my back.
“I want to come, Roz,” he snarled.
I writhed on his lap languidly, sated, a little smirk spread across my lips.
“No,” I teased.
He pressed his antlers to my shoulder, holding my hips in place, rolling against me. Perhaps he heard the jest in my voice, because he didn’t stop this time. I turned my head to breathe against his neck, feeling the strain of his tendons against my cheek, and reached one hand behind me. The angle was awkward, but I grasped his cock and let him pump into my fist. His body crunched in on itself, then he groaned and his shaft jumped, painting my spine within my shirt with hot, thicksemen. As his abdominal wall eased, he pumped into my hand again, and within moments, he came more.
“Thank you,” Fás shuddered.
I slid my clean hand into his tresses and combed them with my nails, humming in gratitude. As he fell limp against our supplies and banded my chest in a hard hug, I thought about the day I was born.
Master had run my diagnostics. He’d tested my vocal range, how believable I was when I begged or pretended to come. How pretty I might be able to cry. How breathlessly I could thank someone. But he’d never seen me. I’d felt nothing while doing those things except a pet-like loyalty and gratitude towards a man who’d scoured imperfections off my skin because Rosy wanted me to represent a hollow victory over her self-hatred.
Well, I felt everything now.
“So?” Fás murmured. “Are youyou,Roz?”
I laid my head on his chest as his embrace softened. Tears welled along the rim of my eyes but didn’t fall. “Mm,” I managed. [Power low] My hand waved through the air in a drunken arc and Fás caught it, pressing our clasped hands to my chest. I creased my brow with confusion. I felt lethargic, slow, powerless. “You’re still hard, I can tell. I shouldn’t need to charge again, but—”
“I’m fine, Roz. And maybe you need to sleep.”
