Page 32 of The Commander

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.”

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