2nd Planet

It was overwhelming, the hands at the back of your scalp, the lips on your shoulder, the strap-on pounding into you at a consistent yet slow pace. 

Your skin wet with sweat, and your chest rising and falling quickly. Your thighs lying on top of theirs, shaking from the pleasure. 

“You're taking this so well, puppy,” the hand that was in your hair moving to your collar, giving it the lightest tug just to remind you it's there. You had came multiple times already, and the building feeling in the pit of your stomach was becoming more and more all consuming with each one. 

Your eyes rolled back as it happened again, “Good girl,” their voice was low in your ear, and you couldn’t tell if the shiver was from climaxing or being praised anymore.

 Had your parents known you when they brought you into the world, your middle name would have been reckless or perhaps stupid ideas. Unfortunately, you didn’t come with such a warning sign attached to you. 

It had become a habit, the shady and seedy little bar where you could play round after round of cards. It wasn’t exactly glamorous or lucrative, the way you thought it would have been, but you made just enough money to spend on new clothes.

It was getting late, you looked around for the regular you saw every night and had gotten oddly close to. They’d show up an hour before closing and play while everyone started to wind down for the night. It was routine. 

Except for tonight, you had lost more than was normal, and if you kept up like this, you would be in the hole sooner rather than later. You didn’t want to leave and not let them know why, so you sat at the bar watching the front door.

A tap on your shoulder startled you before you looked over your shoulder to see them standing there, leaning against the bar with that small smirk they always wore. 

You made a hand gesture so they could hear you over the commotion, and they leaned down to get close to your ear. “I can’t play tonight, sorry.”

They raised an eyebrow at you expectantly, and while you normally weren't one to tell others about your financial situation, you told them you were out of money to play with. They shrugged at you and then pulled you slightly closer so they could whisper in your ear, “I’m not worried about money, let's just play.”

You didn’t have time to react before they were pulling you towards the table, the two of you always sit at, it was quieter over there, and you could finally hear yourself think. “It’s okay! I don’t want to take away your chances of getting money for the night just because I’m out,” you brushed yourself off, smoothing the wrinkles in your shirt. As much as you enjoyed playing, you didn’t want to impose on your good friend.

“If you're so worried about it, then maybe you could offer me something else, but I told you I don’t care,” They pointed to your seat as if telling you to sit, and leaned back in their own.

“Something else?” You asked.

“I mean,” they chuckled, “you're hot, I wouldn’t mind seeing those hands wrapped around my cock.”  They were as blunt as always, but you couldn’t help but stare in shock. 

They shrugged again, you couldn’t even tell if they were joking, and you didn’t want to agree if they were, but you couldn’t deny how turned on the idea made you

“And if I win?” you questioned, trying to sound as arrogant as possible to hide the fact that you were excited by the idea. 

They ran a hand through their lush dark hair, “Whatever your heart desires, sweetheart.” Their voice was dripping with honey, teasing you so easily. It was working.

You forced an eyeroll, then dealt the cards. You weren’t sure how this was going to go down, but God, you couldn’t wait. You tried to ignore all the devilish ideas that were running through your head, all the things you dreamed about them doing to you when you lay awake at night. Your cheeks felt warm, but you focused on the cards sitting in your hand.  

The first time you lost, you insisted on best two out of three, the second time, you knew there was no way out. 

They did their signature eyebrow raise and laughed at you. 

You couldn’t let them have the upper hand, though, you needed to keep some of your dignity. “So what junk hole do you live in? Since you need help getting off so badly.” 

They didn’t respond, just got up and gestured with their head for you to follow them, walking behind the bar, before you two shouldn’t be back there, they lead you into the back and through a door. “My office is private enough. Go ahead and lock the door behind you.”

You froze in place. “Your office?”

 They leaned against the desk, covered in receipts and other graphs, they tilted their head to the side, earring bumping into their shoulder and catching the light. “I own this place?” they told you, in a questioning voice.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say before, turning and closing the door behind you, locking it quickly, “Soo.” You felt oddly nervous all of a sudden. 

Their hand was on your shoulder, “Relax,” mouth close to your ear, “It’s still just me.” 

You nodded, taking a deep breath as they brought you behind their desk, they took a seat, then guided you onto the floor in front of them. “Is this okay?” they asked.

“Yeah,” you stared up at them as they placed your hands on their belt buckle. 

You struggled with it for a moment before finally removing it. They unbuttoned their pants by themself, taking their cock out, allowing you to gawk for as long as you needed. 

Your hands wrapped around the base, and they stifled a soft moan. 

You couldn’t help but watch their face contort as you slowly raised one hand up their shaft, thumb rubbing into their tip, causing them to shiver. One hand gripping at their pant leg, their other firmly placed on your shoulder, their long red nails digging into you.

You were methodical in your movements, squeezing their cock whenever your hand reached the bottom. You didn’t make any attempt to move faster, enjoying the way their labored breathing was in time with your strokes.

“Faster,” it was a command. 

You hummed at the thought, nails dragging across the underside of their cock, their head fell forward, eyes locked on your hands as they bit down on their lip. 

Their hand fell over yours, pulling it up and down at the pace they wanted, their eyes closing, moaning out loud. Your other hand pinched their thigh, before you squeezed them extra hard, and their hand let go of you. “Slow down,” you whispered, eyes transfixed on the way they were leaking.  

It was late, and your separate room was cold. The blankets did you no good either, and the ability to sleep had left your body long ago. You sat in the silence of your room, watching the snow fall outside the window.

When your heat finished last week, you thought it was your chance to finally live that loving and peaceful mated life you dreamed of. Yet you still did not talk to one another, you ate dinner in the grand hall together twice, and then it stopped.

In the morning, he randomly asked you if your neck was healing as intended. He knew the answer, you had seen him talking to the medic before she left, but you figured at least he was trying. 

Your feet slipped out onto the wooden floor, dropping the blanket from your form, just you in the night shirt you wore, shrouded in moonlight. The door was heavy and creaky, the manor was so haunting at night. The fireplace in the hallway crackled, and the shadows of trees danced across the walls. Your room was quiet, but the hall was serenaded with distant laughter. 

The guards who stood post at your door most days always stood down at the entrance at night. Your hands ran over the bandages covering your neck, the room smelled so deeply of fire smoke, and you just wanted to soothe your poor scent gland so much. You kept on your journey down the hall, body aching.

Candles were lit in one of the rooms, and voices trailed out from the crack in the door, it must have been where the laughing was coming from.

 Despite the knowledge of your own home having many people living there, people being awake and laughing in the parlor, especially when you had no guests, was unsettling. You tried to move past it as you walked past the hall, but you just had to glance, had to know.

With your heart racing away from you, you looked through the small gap in the door. Shadows loomed over your omega's companion as she sat draped across the couch by herself, in nothing but her evening gown. She wore a gentle smile and flirty eyes, whoever she was talking to had a guttural voice and made a crass comment. 

 You backed away from the door as fast as you could while still being silent. He didn’t sound too much like your husband, but the fear that it may be struck you like lightning in a storm. You rushed down the hall as fast as your feet would take you. 

Pausing in front of the large doors, it was late, you knew that.   

The space outside of his doors smelled so oddly comforting, and you were so so cold. Your mind was pacing between options. You could go back to your room and try to sleep, you really should have. Or knocked, but you needed to know now more than ever, and you had planned to see him either way.   

The doorknob was freezing, but you pushed into the pitch black room nonetheless. 

Your need for closeness rose, you had not been allowed into your husband's room, other than the first night of your marriage. You held your hands out so as not to trip over things you couldn’t see.   

You lowered yourself onto the bed and squeezed your eyes shut. This was wrong, you knew that. You just so badly wanted to be loved by your mate. You knew he didn’t hate you, at least not entirely, not after what happened last week. 

You cuddled closer, picturing all the things that happened during your heat, how territorial he was, how much you wanted to wake him and feel that same closeness. You felt the warmth build within you, even though it was so cold, and you weren’t in the blankets. 

You wanted to push your hands under his sleepwear and run your hands over his chest. Wanted to pull his hands towards your own, be curled up close so his face was back against your neck again. 

You sat up. This was so wrong. There was movement beside you, and you froze in place. You heard the strike of the match and watched as the candles were lit, you held your breath. “Why are you still awake?”

You jumped at the question, scared of what was going to happen. 

The candle in your hand was dripping down your fingers and onto the body of your companion. Their thighs shook beneath you, head falling forward away from the stone wall of your dark bedroom. 

It stung, but you didn’t try to move away from it. Your heart was beating so fast, you could not calm yourself down. You knew this was wrong, if a maid were to catch you, rumors would spiral about you being a tyrant. How you torture the one that you are closest to. 

They moaned out again, they wanted this so badly, and so did you. 

A shudder ran up your spine, you hadn’t thought you could be so turned on. The way your companion looked up at you with such passion and pulled on the ribbon holding their arms up like they would eat you alive if you set them free, had your breathing uneasy.

The wax was drying and reheating with each drop, and they shivered even more. The wick was close enough to your hand now to have the wax remelting onto your companion. A smirk brushed over your lips before you blew out the candle, leaving you both in the dark, panting.

The two of you got into a spat over breakfast about laundry not being done, which snowballed into an argument around lunch time over text while you were still working. Whether or not you should go out with your coworkers after work today, since you both “obviously” needed to talk. 

By the time you were both home, the tension was so palpable you'd think there was an invisible wall keeping you both separate. For three hours, the house was eerily silent, neither of you saying a single word. You left for the bedroom when they set the still warm but folded laundry down on your lap. 

 You weren’t going to crack first, prepared to sleep facing away from your partner tonight. 

When you entered the bedroom, though, they were hot on your tail. “I don’t want to go to bed upset,” they told you. You tried to ignore them, but the annoyance from what they said was getting to you 

“Why?” 

They stared at you, their mouth opening and closing as they looked at you with pained eyes. 

You glared at them, about to turn around to continue getting ready for bed, when they dropped to their knees at your feet, “Because I love you so so much, and I can’t stand the thought of you being mad at me for any longer. I’m so sorry. What happened was really stupid and childish on my part. I can’t be sorry enough for raising my voice at you.” Their hands landed on your hips, eyes bore into yours. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, I just want to forget about today.”

“I love you too,” you mumbled, running a hand through their hair.  

They grabbed at your other arm, kissing the back of your hand, “Please let me make it up to you.”

You took a deep breath in as their lips found your stomach instead, pushing your shirt up a bit. Still gazing into your soul from below you, as if asking permission with their eyes alone. Your hand landed on the back of their neck. “Let's do this on the bed,” the next part of your sentence a shy mumble, “I don’t want you to hurt your neck.” You hated how suddenly needy you felt. 

You helped them stand, and their lips crashed into yours instantly. 

It goes from loving to hot and heavy after a few moments. You pull at their hair, even though they can’t get any closer to you, and the anger dissolves completely. Their hands trail all over every part of you they can reach before they pick you up to put you back on the bed.

The moment they put you down, their lips were running up and down your neck and cheek, “I’ve missed your body so much.”  They only pulled away from you for a moment to pull your shirt off you. Fiddling with your pants as they kissed at your sides. Once the pants were off, their kisses moved to your inner thigh. You pulled at their hair, but they stayed slow in their movements. “I will never get enough of you.” Their hands ran over your chest, caressing every inch of you in a slow, methodical motion.

Their tongue runs over your cunt, lighting a blazing fire down your whole body, as they do so over and over again. “Just fucking do it properly!” you groan, tugging at their hair even more. 

It had been a while since you felt good. Between work and the never ending pile of chores, you hadn’t had much time to dedicate to yourself.  Today was different, though. You had been strolling around town to shop, and as you passed the display window of the dress and lingerie boutique, you couldn’t help but glance. The thought crossed your mind, you hadn’t really been feeling “it” lately, wearing pretty clothes hadn’t really been a priority as of late. 

You walked into the store a little nervous at first, but it wasn’t long before you had settled. The pieces you picked out were glamorous, the sorts of things worn to expensive cocktail parties, and the lingerie had been nothing short of stunning, if not a little over the top. 

You knew your girlfriend would be home in a few hours, and so you rushed home. You spent a long time cooking dinner and an extra amount of time getting ready. The house was dark for the most part, with soft, warm light from your bedroom and candles on the dining table setting the mood.  

You waited patiently for your girlfriend to get home, slightly nervous that she might be too tired for all this after the long week she had. When she walked through the door, though, her gaze landed on you with nothing short of admiration. Taking off her shoes and rolling up the sleeves of her black button down, showing off those tattoos you always trace before bed. 

She glanced past you into the kitchen, “Did I miss an anniversary or something? What's going on here?” Her arms pulled you into a hug, and she left a smooch on your lips. “You look really fucking pretty, baby,” her voice muffled from having her lips on yours.

“I just wanted to do something nice since we’ve both been working so hard,” you said, leading her towards the table full of food. 

“Gods, you spoil me,” She said, pulling you back into her arms for one more long hug. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The two of you laughed over dinner, enjoying the food you made and the wine you picked up last minute. “Shall we take this back to our room, my love?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you burst out laughing. You nodded anyway and let her lead you through your shared home. 

You were standing in front of her when she motioned for you to twirl, “Show me, the pretty dress you bought.”

 You giggled and pulled the straps of it down your shoulders, tantalizingly slow, “There's more.”

“There’s more?” she asked, obviously excited by the idea, leaning back on the bed a bit, pulling the pillows around like she was expecting the show to be a while, “You have my full attention, darling.”

You slid the dress down, revealing the dark blue butterfly patterned straps, a small gasp leaving your girlfriend, “I know it's your favorite,” you told her in reference to the sapphire like color. The detailed pattern that went down your chest had her breathing unstable. 

“I’ve missed you,” she mumbled.

Your hands ran over the chains at the bottom of the bra, with a smirk. Making her wait even longer.

When the dress found its way down your hips and dropped onto the floor, her hands grabbed your sides, “Look at these cute ruffles, Gods, you’re so fucking pretty,” her gaze was hungry, hands running across all the dangly bits on the set.

You pushed her off, hand sliding under the matching garter first, methodically pulling it down off your thigh. Staring at her to make sure she was watching you. Then pulled the straps of the bra all the way down. Making sure to caress your skin as you did. 

She sat up more, getting closer to you to get a better view of what you'd do next, obviously struggling to keep her hands to herself. 

The clip in the center of the bra came undone with no resistance, but you still took the time to run the fabric down your sides before dropping it onto the floor as well. You paused for a moment, taking a few steps closer so you were between her legs, pointing towards the panties. 

It was going to be a long heat, it had been multiple months since you got officially mated, and since that evening, you and your alpha had barely spoken.  You overheard him talking to one of your maids the other day about making sure you’re in your separate room. 

Your body was already showing signs of pre-heat, and everything is feeling heavy and sensitive. The pillows are never quite in the spot you wanted them to be, and the smell was just wrong.  

You could hear the guards outside the door talking about your husband, how he had dinner with the king tonight, as he would be away for the next few days. They seemed so loud, even though the door was closed.

You pushed your head down into the blankets, trying not to start crying in frustration. Married life wasn't what you thought it would be, your insides ached. You so desperately wanted to be in love. You thought once you got married to your betrothed, you'd both become intertwined, bound like soulmates. You spent most nights alone in the manor, watching guards and maids work, not allowed to help or do really anything. 

Now you were going into heat all alone, in pain, dreaming of the life you were meant to have.

You pulled the blankets of your nest around, ignoring the tears running down your face and the way your skin crawled. You squeezed your eyes closed, trying to will yourself to sleep, but your body was having none of it. You let out an irritated and long whine.

Your ears perked at the sound of the door creaking open slowly, you didn’t look up, assuming it was a maid to bring you a hot compress. Everything ached so much harder. 

“How are you feeling?” The voice that rang out behind you wasn’t a maid of yours or your omega's companion. You sat up quickly, coming face to face with your alpha who towered over the bed where you lay.

His hand brushed a loose piece of hair away from your face. His harsh look didn’t even falter even when nearly nose to nose with you. You looked away, insides set ablaze by the scent and the stare. “I’m okay,” you cleared your throat, this was the first time he had spoken to you in weeks, “How was dinner with the king?” you asked solemnly.

“It went well,” He said, unmoving, “You’re not in full heat yet?” 

It was said less like a question and more like a statement of fact. Your jaw clicked, “I’m fully in heat.” Your words weren't harsh or even frustrated, just truthful.

He stood there for a moment, “Oh,” was all he managed, before sitting on the very edge of the bed, inspecting you from afar. “You seem calm,” he spoke like he was in pain. His hand reaching out towards you.

Your eyes grew wide when his hand landed on your face, thumb wiping at the tear tracks that stained your cheeks. “Does it hurt?” his airy voice was shaking. 

You shook your head quickly in his hand, a new set of tears forming. His scent was so overwhelming, it coated the inside of your lungs and clung to your wet skin. 

He moved his hand off of you instantly, getting up and away from where you sat crying, he paced near the foot of the bed, “I’m so sorry,” he took a deep breath, “I can leave you alone.”

The words left before you could control them, “please don’t, please don’t leave me all alone again,” you sobbed, hands reaching out for him, “I need you.” 

He was slow to sit back down on the bed, hesitating to touch you, but when you didn’t flinch, his arms wrapped around you. He said nothing, just spent what felt like forever and only seconds at the same time, petting your hair.

“Please, Alpha,” you whined when you found your voice, “please help me.”

He took a deep breath in and shifted you both so you were more on the bed. He pulled at the buttons on the extremely loose nightshirt you wore as a dress off slowly. Face landing on your neck, “I promise I’ll be gentle with you.” 

Your body was grinding down on him on its own, the fog of want and need finally taking over at the realization that your alpha was going to knot you. 

His hands found your sides, slowing you down, a soft growl of need leaving you. He pulled you off him for a moment anyway, undoing his pants before moving back towards you. His hands tender against your burning, sensitive skin. It felt like heaven when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot, so light they were barely a whisper on you, yet your body jerked up to them. 

It didn’t take long for you to cement your legs around his lower back, pulling him in closer, wanting, and needing him to fill you completely. Hips rocking back and forth the moment his tip hit your entrance. He leaned forward, letting out a moan as well, “You feel so good.” The need was practically radiating off of you both.

“More, please, alpha!” you begged as he pushed deeper. “Want you to knot me,” it was utterly obscene, the noises you were making. If it didn’t feel so good and your mind was working, you might have had the heart to be embarrassed by your words. You felt so warm and so full. But you needed more. “Please, please knot me,”

 He was going at an inhuman pace, cursing under his breath as he tried to keep some semblance of control over himself, fangs tracing over your mate mark like he was going to bite you all over again. Moon Goddess, you wanted him to so badly. 

Everything was starting to feel tight, and an overwhelming need was forming quicker than you could think to say something. You could feel the knot starting to form at the base of his cock, you needed it in you. 

It wasn’t long before you were slammed all the way down onto it, your body quivering in pleasure, as his teeth sank back into your mating bite with a deep possessive growl, still being filled with cum.  

You both were breathing in unison. He pulled back to look at you, mouth dripping blood, eyes hazed over. Your own eyes fluttered shut for a moment, opening and closing multiple times. The rest of the night had been a heated blur. 

The next morning, though, you were curled up in the blankets alone. At the end of the bed, he sat, staring down at his bloody hands, a shameful look on his face.   

To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement, sure they had seen you nude many times before, but not in the homey setting of your apartment. Not under the warm light of the cheap lamp you got second-hand, or on the blanket that you dragged from one room to another on chilly mornings. This was much more intimate than previous times; it felt more real than it ever had. 

They sat on your bed, fingers tapping on their knees as they hummed something. You were pulling your top off over your head, currently turned away from them. “Cover your eyes,” you managed to stutter out, not thinking too much before you did.

 “Hm?” Their gaze landed on you, then softened. “Okay,” they didn’t hesitate to agree, and there was a hand over their eyes when you turned around to face them.

“Do you want me to get something to put over my eyes?” they asked, like it wasn’t that big of a deal, and maybe to them it wasn’t. 

You thought for a moment, then spoke, “Yeah, actually, if that's okay? I think it would calm my nerves a lot.”  You glanced around the room, rubbing your arm to relax. 

“Let’s find something then, why don’t you look on that side, and I’ll look over here.” They turned away from you, walking towards your dresser. A weight in your chest lifted, and you glanced around your closet, not so focused on anything. “I found some ribbon in your box over here. How about it?” They held it up with one hand, still covering their eyes.

“Yeah, that will work,” you say, and they motion for you to turn around, so you do.

You hear shuffling and the sound of them sitting down on your bed before they speak. “You go ahead and strip down.” You don’t need a second prompting, already feeling much better about the whole thing. 

 They sat at the head of your bed patiently, not making any effort to peek. “When you are all done with that, you can come tie this around my head and then sit with your back against my chest.” 

You had slipped out of the last piece of clothing and moved quickly to your bed. The ribbon was thick in your hands. They moved, so they weren’t blocking you from blindfolding them. Moving their head forward so you could get a better angle to tie it. 

Once you were comfortable, their hands interlaced with yours, “Better?” You nodded, feeling at home pressed to them. “Good, now I want you to use this hand,” they moved your one hand so it was running up your thigh before letting go of it, “to touch the way you do when you think about me.”

Your breath hitched, looking over towards their face, your own heating up more. “Go on, love,” Their voice directly in your ear, “I want to hear you play with yourself.” Their empty hand got a hold of your lower thigh, pulling it away from the other one.

Your hand slid up your leg, lingering over where you wanted it, your other hand tightening around theirs. Their mouth was pressed to your ear now, ”Do you typically rub, or do you prefer to have your fingers in your pretty cunt?”

Your fingers landed on your clit. You were so turned on and needy, quickly rubbing soft circles. “Rub,” you moan out in a choked voice, “God, so sensitive.” 

“Aww,” They cooed, their hand trailed up your leg, landing over yours, longer fingers wiping at your wetness, “So wet and needy. Keep going, darling.” Their hand moved away and up to their mouth, getting a taste of you, “Press down harder, and go from side to side across that clit.”

You did as told, it was so much it felt like a fire running up your spine, “Close!” you whined. Two fingers rubbing as fast as you could. “Please, please, I need to,” you didn’t even know why you were begging, you were going to come either way.

“It’s alright,” They pushed your hand off yourself, replacing it with their own, “Just come when you need to, love.”

They pushed you right over the edge, with a long, straggled moan. But their fingers didn’t stop once you had stopped, relentlessly moving against your clit. “Too,” you took a quick breath in, “too much,” your body squirming under them, toes curling, head falling back onto their shoulder. 

"No, no," he whispered into your ear, "keep focused, you told me you could." Though it wasn't exactly easy with his cock shoved deep into your hole, you nodded. You weren’t going to give in, even if it felt so, so good. 

You had agreed to this. It was a stupid, stupid taunt. When the foreign king insisted that bunny hybrids can barely stay focused when flirted with, trying to anger you. He continued the whole evening, hungry eyes following you and remarks about your form being perfect. He was egging and teasing you about how you couldn’t think straight with him around. 

You just had to tell him otherwise; you couldn’t let him say such things, so you made the remark that you not only could focus around him but that he did so little for you that you could focus even if you were sitting on his cock. Stupid, stupid taunt. 

But the bet had been made. 

So that's how you ended up in his lap, cock deep in your walls, in front of your whole council while you tried to hold it together for this meeting. It wasn’t exactly working. “It is in our best interest to-” you let out a gasp as he shifted under you, you took a moment to try and compose yourself.

“What's the matter, bunny? Are you going to go into heat from how full you are?”

“No!” you respond quickly and with more bite than you normally could manage, “It would be in our best interest to start trading between,” a small moan passed through your lips, “us for food in return for the proper weaponry,” you tried to focus on the words and not the eyes all over your body. 

A hand ran through your hair and then down your back, giving your tail a squish. You jerked away from it, and another much longer moan left you. You wiggled a bit, then looked around you, trying to regain any sort of dignity you could find in yourself, though there wasn't much left.

The king's same hand trailed down your side and under your legs, pulling you back all the way down onto him with a soft stinging feeling, “How much crop are you willing to give up?” he asked, voice dripping in sadistic pleasure. 

It was too late; all the movement was getting to you, now vying for more friction. Hips moving to their own accord, strangled words barely comprehensible, “More, More,” the King bounced you slightly, “Please breed me, please please please, I’ll do anything,” it was a cry of pleasure. 

You begged and begged, but the king held you close to him, unmoving, “You said you’d focus, rabbit.”