But that was why I was here, wasn’t it? To get closer to him, see if I could trigger the starburn in myself. Grinding and coming against me had seemed to help it along in Skalla that night.

Maybe...

Maybe physical proximity wasn’t enough.

Maybe I needed to fuck him. Get him inside me, let his fluids join with mine.

I had no clue if it would work, but it was just about the only idea I had left apart from dancing naked under the moon and begging gods both alien and human to please, for the love of all that was good, help us.

“Skalla, sit down,” I said hurriedly. “I have an idea.”

I didn’t know if his orgasm had provided him with a tiny bit of relief, or if he’d just run out of will to argue with me. But either way, he sank down to the ground, his claws dragging jagged, ripped lines through the wall as he did so. He stared furiously at his genitals, as if they’d somehow betrayed him.

I stared at them too, chewing on my lip. There was absolutely no way I could take the bigger cock with the knot. Even without the knot, I probably couldn’t have gotten that one in me. The upper one, though...

The upper one, I could work with. It was still big. Very big. But it wasn’t a heavy club with a baseball-sized swelling in the middle of it like the other one was.

The smaller cock was still stone-hard after coming. Shimmering moisture beaded at its tip, as if it knew exactly what I planned to do.

Without warning, without giving Skalla a chance to run away, I got onto my knees and sucked the head of the smaller cock into my mouth.

Skalla gave a tight yelp. He jerked in my mouth, letting out another shuddering, salty jet. There was too much for me to even attempt to swallow. I let it dribble out of my mouth and over my chin, then kept working at him, sucking slowly, getting used to the girth of him in my jaws. Up until this moment, I’d been too preoccupied with Skalla’s pain to feel any sort of arousal. But I felt it now, a small lick of heat under the damp, suffocating weight of worry.

I braced myself, laying my hands on Skalla’s inner thighs as I slid up and down his length. I marvelled at the coiled muscle there. I wondered how any living creature could be so hard and so still.

It was almost eerie. Like someone had cast a spell on him, cursed him with a body of stone. The only sign I had that he was still alive and not constricted by rigor-mortis was the trembling, enthusiastic pulses of his cock in my mouth. Otherwise, though, he did not move and made no sound.

I need to hurry, I thought. I could feel his control fraying inside that miserable, hard shell, and for the first time I realized that he might actually hurt me. Not intentionally, of course. But there was a reason he’d told me to stay away from him and this was why.

I sucked and licked and examined that possibility within the confines of my own head. I analysed it coolly, distantly, like I was considering the possibility of Skalla harming a blonde, Suvi-shaped ragdoll instead of me. Despite the danger, I wasn’t afraid.

But I still didn’t want to waste any time. I stroked my clit frantically, then, when pleasure began to unfurl its warm feathers, I pressed two, then three fingers inside, trying to stretch myself in preparation for him. All the while, I kept sloppily sucking at him.

It was not my best blow job effort, I had to say. I hadn’t given head in ages, and never to someone this big. I was out of practice and flustered, trying to coordinate my hand between my legs and the jerking motion of my head. But if Skalla had any complaints, he didn’t voice them. Instead, he came again in my mouth, silent and straining.

There was never any eruption from his other cock, though, which was odd. Previously, both of his cocks had ejaculated, but not now. It probably had something to do with the new knot, and I cringed at the thought that Skalla hadn’t been able to get any relief from the harrowing engorgement of that organ.

Unbelievably, Skalla was still hard, his head swollen behind my teeth. I was wet now, my fingers sliding, and I was probably as ready as I’d ever be without something like the starburn.

I lifted my mouth from him and shimmied forward on my knees. I slung one leg over his, then the other, until I was straddling his hips, my palms flat and firm on his broad, rigid chest.

Skalla’s eye was screwed shut, his body still completely immobile apart from the twitchy vibrations of his extended cocks behind and below me. But when I wiggled back and pressed my wet pussy against the slick tip of his upper cock, his eye flew open.

He gawked at me straddling him, as if he’d had no idea I’d gotten into this position. It was like I’d done everything up until now without him while he’d retreated into some sort of feverish dreamscape. A flurry of emotions crashed over his face in rapid succession – shocked confusion; dismayed shame; blazing, animal lust; then sheer fucking panic.

I pressed down. Just a little. His cock nudged desperately inside without him even moving his hips.

His fingers flew to my waist, gripping hard, and for a second I thought he meant to pull me off. Maybe even throw me entirely out of the room.

But instead, he let out a groan, grim with resignation and torturous need, and slammed his hips upward in one furious thrust, spearing all the way inside me.

I threw my head back, staring blindly at the ceiling as my body stretched to its limits to accommodate his ardent bulk.

I’d thought I could maybe start slowly, inch my way down onto him, ride him while he held still the way he had a few seconds ago.

I was a fucking idiot.

I think I broke him.

Or at least, I’d broken something inside him. Where before there’d been only vicious stillness, now there was a roiling chaos of motion. He was frenzied, bucking wildly, gripping me tightly to his chest. Even though I was on top, any control I’d had over the situation was gone. My body wanted to tighten up, to fight, to flee. But this was Skalla, my Skalla. And my Skalla needed me.

Maybe some part of me needed this, too, because behind my clenching defense against his girth, beyond the unfathomable, crashing ache of his body in mine, something sweeter beckoned. Like a candle in the dark. A mere flicker of pleasure, wind-whipped at first. Hard to hold onto.

But getting stronger with every pummeling thrust.

I collapsed onto Skalla, my breasts crushed to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck as his hips pistoned, engines of rapid, relentless motion. He snapped and snarled, grinding his knot against my ass. I knew that agonized part of his body was screaming for entrance, that every fibre and nerve of him was begging him to shove that cock in somewhere – anywhere – so that his knot could get some wet, squeezing relief. To my profound relief (and to the dismay of some suicidally aroused part of me) he didn’t even try. He just kept jack-hammering his hips in the current position, rolling the ridges of his shaft over stretched, sensitive places inside until I was keening, limply writhing, already at my limit but somehow wanting more.

I whined his name, throat feeling raw, and he gave a blistering moan in return. He drove into me so hard and fast that I was no longer aware of individual movements. He was one unending tremor of stimulation inside me, rapid, unyielding, never giving me even a moment to breathe. To let go.

I hovered on the edge of sudden, breathless orgasm, trapped there. Trapped by the burning slam of him, trapped by a rhythm so frenzied it was nearly hysterical.

I was nearly hysterical. I bucked uselessly in Skalla’s iron grip, trying to throw myself over that aching edge, trying to find release that never came. Pressure grew and grew inside, white-hot, scalding in its ecstasy. I cried – sobbed – against Skalla’s scales, clinging to him, driving myself closer both to him and the climax that hovered just out of tantalizing reach.