sacry ary

"You... Ha... Rude-... Ah... You're... too rude..."

Viper's face before her half-closed eyes was slightly dazed: his pupils dilated, a blush unevenly covering parts of his face and one ear, clearly separating the patches of natural skin from the artificial inserts. It's unsightly, even disgusting, she thought, and the thought immediately vanished from her mind along with a drawn-out groan as his thick cock jerked sharply inside her.

"Don't you... Hsssss... Dare... Ah... Complain..."

His forked, snake-like tongue always looked too natural, especially when it pushed through her lips, entwining with her own in a crushing kiss. It was messy, and it got even messier when her fang caught on his piercing and broke the skin, but neither of them cared. Saliva mingled with the taste of copper as Viper responded by tearing the skin on her lip, causing her to moan sweetly, pressing closer and digging her sharp nails into the back of his neck, her fist tightly clutching his green hair.

The entire time, they maintained eye contact: a mixture of lust, mistrust, and defiance. A game of sorts, the winner earning the right to dominate. And this time, Viper seemed determined to keep his cool.

He was often in a foul mood, especially with her—after all, it was the desire to vent anger and irritation that most often prompted their personal encounters—but today, something was off, though she couldn't yet pinpoint what.

It all started as usual: he'd barged into one of her apartments, knowing full well she'd be there.

Viper was a brazen and insolent quasi-friend/enemy, exchanging information, goals, and messages with her too often to be considered anything more than reluctant colleagues. They'd met two years ago in one of Skyhaven's seedy bars. It was almost peaceful: she, a Fleet's watchdog with questionable morals and a leash around her neck; he, a lab rat, pretending to be either a snake or a pubescent punk. A match made in heaven, no less.

Or in hell. Which is more likely.

That time she left the bar with a bruised lung and two bullet wounds, he - with an additional knife hole in his shoulder, a fractured skull, and crushed balls. A delightful acquaintance.

Mission encounters brought them together so often that they were a near-constant presence in each other's lives, and physical intimacy became simply part of it. Controlled display of aggression and adrenaline, a way to let off steam and simply satisfy their bodies' needs - no-strings-attached sex, a small rebellion against the permanent nooses around their necks. It wasn't dictated by orders from above, and therefore seemed the only thing done without coercion.

None of them were fooled into thinking their superiors weren't aware of their little intrigues. As long as interests of those in power didn't clash, her and Viper's relationship — whatever it was — posed no threat or harm. A trifle, not worth noting.