'The hot hot heat'

[strayer]

[Heine doesn't remember a time it was this bad. Thanks to a combination of willpower and certain black market drugs, he's been able to keep himself stable for years since discovering there is more dog about than the collar stapled into his neck. Out of all the things that woman could have put in him to keep him further tamed, going into heat isn't one he saw coming. 

Before he reached the surface he hadn't gone through a cycle. Something in the food he guessed, but they were under constant poking and prodding then to. The voice snickering from his spine finds it utterly hilarious he's gone into heat despite his attempts to curb it. When it edges into far too much, he seeks help and finds it in a woman.

He doesn't hate her, he doesn't even dislike her anymore. If anything, he likes her and admires her. Having those feelings on top of finding her 'hot' as the laughing voice calls it makes him feel sick, but she agreed to protect Nill and to protect him from himself. It's a lot less weight on his shoulders in the fear of hurting Nill and Naoto is strong, she can hold him back if need be.

And hold hold back she has, locking him away in a room with a decent bed and no windows. He's shirtless, breath ragged in weak pulls, and bandages gone exposing his scarred neck. The red of his eyes burns brighter with a flush over his overly pale body. He's long been erect, straining against his pants that are too tight to being with and head probably weeping from need.

Those things aren't bad with the thoughts swirling in his dazed head.  His cone of vision has been watching her since they've gotten into the room some time ago and the voice usually taunting is gone. In its steed is thoughts and desires. He finds her attractive, very attractive, and there's nothing different about her. None he can tell.]

It's not going down. [He mutters aware of what it means. She'll have to take action and he doesn't want to please himself before her, though it won't do any good. He wants her to do it.]

Comments

[strayer]

Heh. [His hands rise up her legs to her waist, expression of annoyance brief since it's a waste to remain so in this moment. While she yanks her underwear aside, he assist with pulling her up in his lap.

They're still partly clothed, the more vital parts exposed, but her scar is hidden behind cloth. He likes her scar, licking and mapping it, an ugly mark he finds wickedly attractive on her.] More than fucking. Trying to impregnate. [An impossible action that his screwed up body desires in his cycle of heat.]

[insertsword]

Please stop saying that word. [She pulls a face, and rocks her hips up against him hard, the movement bringing his cock in contact with her folds.]

Or I walk.

[strayer]

[A snarl is her only answer, the rebuttal of her asking dropped to the floor. He's rigid and tense under that threat to walk out. He'd manage, but he doesn't want her leaving for more reasons than putting out his flames.

His hands squeeze and yank downward. This isn't lingering, it's stalling he started and is going to stop if it doesn't end soon.]

[insertsword]

[She meets that snarl with a tilt of her chin, defiant even when he has her grinding down against him all wet and slippery, even when she's blushing from the first orgasm, her clothes sticking to her skin with sweat. Ever defiant.]

Shut up and fuck me. [And to underline it as the order it is, she rests her hand over metal at the back of his neck, squeezes. Plays with fire, rattles the Cerberus leash.]

[strayer]

[Perhaps it's the animal in him waking up or the defiant act she's putting up, but something clicks inside him. He pulls harder and thrust his hips up with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes.]

With pleasure. [He snarls back with word attached. The grip to his neck burns, his flesh aflame and stinging like a thousand needles. He'll wear her out, leave her sated and messy, and keep going until that defiant look falls.]

[insertsword]

[The grip only tightens when he pushes inside her like that, her hips coming down against his with a jolt, mouth forming the shape of a cry but no sound coming out.

That was hard - she feels a moment of panic, a sour taste on her tongue, at the possibility of this being the rhythm; then, a shiver of excitement, as the darker part of her agrees with it.]

[strayer]

[Rhythm hasn't had a part in this deal they have going. It's taken when wanted and needed, but there isn't a set time they partake of each other's flesh. The encounters are random and sudden leaving the impression these aren't lasting things, said impression weakening when the frequency has increased and his heat has taken fancy to her.

He thinks about this afterward, for whatever it's worth, and lets his instincts take control once the barriers of first contact are passed. A hiss escapes his lips, one of pain from the grip upon his neck. It spurs him on the lifts at her body to create friction between them, to balance the pain out with pleasure.]