🖤 ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ 🖤

Reluctantly you grab at the hem of your shirt, fisting the fabric and he moves just enough to give you space. You pull it up and over your head revealing a lacy bra before your fingers hook into the waist band of your shorts, pushing them down to your ankles before you step out to reveal a matching pair of underwear.

He says nothing, holds out his hand and you gently touch your fingers to his, twirling you so that he can see every inch of you before he lets go. Before he sits in the chair that faces the bed, not even bothering to remove his jinki.

"Go on." Slowly you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, full cups falling away from your supple tits, desperately holding the fabric to shield you as long as you can without him losing patience. Finally letting the straps fall down your arms to your wrists and before you can discard it to the floor his hand is out again.

Gently you press the lace into his rough hand while he holds eye contact with you. You think that is more uncomfortable, that he can hold your gaze with such a hungry look in his eyes without letting them fall to your bare chest. Claws hooking into your underwear and pushing them down slowly, pressing them into his expecting hand taking a step back.

He tells you what he wants with his deadly look, following his eyes to the bed before you sit on the edge of it.

"Lie down."

"Zo, please."

"Lie. Down."

You obey, scooting back so that you could lie down comfortably on top of his thread bare comforter. He gives you a moment to adjust, waits for you to do the next step that you know comes with this punishment and when you don't he leans forward. Large palms on your knees as he forces your legs apart roughly so he can see your pretty cunt. Leaning back when you keep your legs open for him before he rests his chin on his hand, bored gaze sliding into your sensitive skin.

"Touch yourself."

"Zo-"

"If you make me repeat myself one more time, Princess, this punishment is going to be so much worse."

Pouting furiously as you look at him, frustrated tears already coming to your eyes as your right hand travels down your body, fingers gliding through your glistening folds and already your arousal can be heard.

Sticky and wet, embarrassing that when he tolls out punishments to the other vandals his voice soaks your panties, how even now as he commands you your cunt drools for him like pavlov's dogs.

Spreading yourself open, following down your fluttering cunt back up to your sensitive bud a few times before you begin to tease yourself. Slow rough circles trying to imagine they were his fingers instead.

You hated pleasing yourself, it felt good and you always came so, so quickly and hard but it never felt like you were satisfied. Your fingers are not long enough, not thick enough, to stretch and explore your tight cunt. Pawing at your breast is not nearly rough enough, good enough to get you there but still you desperately try to imitate.

"Faster." Monotone as if unamused as his slow blinking eyes watch your fingers speed up, watch your cunt clench around nothing and hear that pretty voice cry out.

You're close, he can tell, he's watched you cum hundreds of times by now and he's become an expert at reading your tell tale signs.

The coil in your stomach tightens, threatens to snap, legs falling slack and opening wider as your hips buck into your hand.

"Stop." Your hand moves from your pulsing cunt with a cry, grabbing handfuls of your inner thigh as you whine. It's an uncomfortable ache deep within you as you pant.

"Continue. Same pace." Quickly and roughly, pathetically rubbing over your clit, loud moans and the sound of your pretty pussy echoing back to you. Thighs shaking as you arch your back, close you're so close. "Stop."

You just barely pull your hand away in time, still edging yourself but thankfully not ruining your orgasm. He doesn't even give you a moment to rest.

"Again." Slow blinking, head still resting on his hand, "Stop."

A garbled moan leaves your throat, ignoring his command as you plead with him.

"I can't. Zo, I-I-I can't." Hand having a mind of its own as you chase your high greedily, uncaring of the consequences until your small wrist is pulled away from your cunt roughly. Slamming your head back with a desperate whine while tears fall down your cheeks.

"You are a bad listener aren't you Princess." His voice is even but his eyes, god damn his dark eyes cut into you with a fury. He slaps your cunt harshly and you yelp.

"No, no Zo, I'm a good listener."

"Are you lying?" Another stinging slap to your pussy that makes your eyes roll, "Let's see how well you can actually listen."

He shoves two thick digits into your velvet heat, clenching around him pathetically and when he angles his fingers just right you dig your heels into the old mattress to keep from bucking into his palm wildly.

He leans over you, lips to your ear and his scent engulfs you. Well worn leather, warm sun, and a hint of musk that makes you squirm.

"Don't cum until I say so, nod if you understand Princess."

You nod quickly and almost miss the press of his lips to the skin behind your ear before he pulls away. Free hand grabbing at your throat roughly, starving your brain of oxygen before he sets a brutal pace with his soaked digits.

He doesn't smile or smirk, not even a tilt to his lips as he hovers over you fully clothed. Hardly seems fazed by your moans or the squelching of your pretty, tight cunt. How your arousal soaks his palm and stains his sheets, how he purposely misses that spongy spot inside you only to press firmly when does aim for it. Dead gaze as he watches you fist the sheets, clawing desperately to both be closer and further away from him at the same time. Making you take shallow, shaky breaths from how he controls your air flow, tears of embarrassment in your eyes that you're so desperate to cum, so desperate for him and he acts as if this was nothing.

"Why are you crying?" It's rhetorical and it's not as if he lets up on his grip on your throat so you can answer, "You seem to really like this."

He makes emphasis of it, shoving aiming to hit that spot within you over and over. Seeing stars as the coil starts to snap, your body starting to shake before your hands move from the sheets to cling to his forearm within reach.

"Please. Please please please please. Zodel, sir please I'll be good." Clawing at his arm desperately, drawing blood in your frenzy.

"Now you address me as sir? Now you want to behave?" He hums, tone making your cunt clench around him, making you moan and when you're about to cum he lets go of your throat.

A resounding clap is heard before you can register the sting on your cheek, looking up at him with big sad eyes, it does little to make your pleasure subside.

"Don't you dare cum." He growls, you nod that you understand, gently tapping your stinging cheek with his fingers in silent praise.

He keeps his deadly pace, bringing his thumb to brush over your sensitive clit cruelly. Slowly applying more and more pleasure while his free hand cradles your jaw. Watching you struggle to focus as your eyes flutter from how good he's making you feel, fucking his fingers into you with such delicious force he's making the bed shake.

"Do you want to cum Princess?" You nod roughly at his question.

"I do. I do."

"Are you going to keep being a brat?" You shake your head no furiously, his thumb increases pressure and speed on your clit while you choke out a cry. His hand smooths over your jaw and down your throat to cup it gently, squeezing tighter and tighter the closer you get, "Are you lying?"

You shake your head no again but he chuckles darkly in response, he knows the real answer to those questions.

"Look me in my eyes." Blinking furiously as you force yourself to focus on his sharp dark eyes, your cunt clenches around him. You feel hot, so so hot, stomach and thighs burning from how you tense them.

"Good girl. Now cum for me."

His praise is enough to send you over the edge, legs snapping shut around him as he fucks you through your high. Head falling back into the pillows and your muffled moan is further swallowed up when he finally reaches down to kiss you. Tongue sliding over yours while your cunt milks his thick fingers desperately. He slows his pace but still takes the time to overstimulate you just a bit without riling you up into another mind numbing orgasm.

He lies down beside you and before he can even remove his fingers you're hiding your face in his chest. He wipes your sticky arousal on his sheets before he pulls you closer, covers you with his oversized duster jacket and presses a feather light kiss to your forehead.

Fisting his shirt as you tremble, trying to bite back a choked sob. He runs his hand along your back and it only encourages more tears. Brought too high only to fall back to the Abyss crashing and burning. It didn't help that you thought he got nothing from this other than the sadistic pleasure of watching you, a feral temperamental thing, melt in his hands with little to no effort.

"Did you touch the Heavens?" His low comforting purr comes at your ear.

"I always touch the Heavens when I'm with you." It comes out soft and barely audible past your sharp intakes of breath.

"Sneaking past the Watchman the first time but not the second, hmm?" He coos softly, acknowledging that you were dropping hard and fast. He wasn't very good at emotions, sure as hell not comfort. He couldn't remember the last time he felt his own heart beat before he met you.

You're about to express exactly why you're upset, that you don't think he's really all that into you. How he can play with you or experiment on you like anyone else until he pulls you closer, until he hooks his leg on yours and you can feel his hardness of his thick cock pressing into the softness of your thigh.

"So you do like me?" You pull away just enough to look him in his eyes and he searches yours before he realizes what you mean. Playfully grinds himself on your softness before he's pulling you back to him. Lips at your ear as his voice turns darker.

"If I didn't like that you were an ornery, disobetiant brat, I would have fed you to the trash beast a long time ago, Princess."

Anyone else would have taken that as a deadly threat, as a reminder that Zodel should not be crossed and yet you don't. You take it for what it is because you seem to be the only one who understands him. Wrapping your arms around him, burring your face into his throat as you hum cutely, unknowingly make his chest squeeze tightly.

Because you don't take it as an idle threat, you take it for what it is.

Still you let him have his moment of observation, keeping your eyes shut as your body is hidden by the water and soap.

“Care to join me Zody?” A purr of a question, his dark gaze flickering to your face to see it unchanged, unbothered. Lashes still kissing pretty cheeks that he knows will be warm to the touch if he lets his cold knuckles pass over them.

Another long moment, your heartbeats dancing around the other in a slow manner. Eyes lazily fluttering open to see him still dressed.

“Aw come on we came all this way.” Water splashes over the old edge as you move roughly, a waterfall of sound as droplets desperately fall back to the group.

The bubbling constellations change further from your turbulence.

“I'm fine.” Bored, heavy gaze holding your mischievous eyes he's come to like. How they twinkle now, even in the low light, watching your pupils dilate as if you're catching prey.

He fights a smile on his lips. Stands tall and still as your damp hands with sharp claws dance over his clothed body. How you make a joke out of his belt, undoing it with fluid motions of one hand while the other taps at his shoes in a demanding bid that he rid himself of them.

He obeys, only behind closed doors, when the moon hangs high and the world lies low.

Only you.

Although he cannot allow you to know that, smokey gem eyes fixated on you as you undo the buttons of his shirt. Your hands smoothing back up the bare skin of his chest before they stop just at the apex of his shoulders.

His hand cups the curve of your skull, staring into each other's eyes for a moment before you ease the jacket off of his shoulders.

Because it always came off last.

You know this, know his routine and how he works.

How he showers quickly, never apart from the well worn jacket for more than a few moments although you can understand why. You had heard the rumors, that a jinki of this caliber was taxing, that if it was removed for long it was debilitating. Pain that would shoot and radiate into every fiber and cell of his being as if the treasure was begging to be put back on.

Whispered it.

Demanded it.

But you'd never know. He keeps you away from it. Not from paranoia, you're the closest to Zodyl than the rest of the raiders, you know this even if he doesn't say.

Although it can be obvious to the those around you. He lets you get away with murder.

Let's you come and go as you please, allows you to be your own moving piece if you so choose to be a component on his board. Let's bring him jinki the same way a stray cat drops kills into their owners lap. Let's you whine, brat, and berate the raiders when they fail. Scolding him for not using you for a task, unable to help his smile as he keeps the secret that success wasn't what he was aiming for. Always tutting a low, deep and even sound.

“Every piece has its purpose.”

Allows your arms to slip under his own, to press your cheek to his chest as he placates you. Strong arms wrapping around your sturdy frame but never allowing the jacket to touch you for long. Never allowing it to hum its sweet nothings into your ear, never allow it to slide up your very capable arms and wreck the chaos it so desires.

But most importantly he allows this.

Touch, closeness.

For your steady hands to push the powerful, ancient fabric down toned muscle, to lay it across the sink gently. Giving it a gentle pet, cooing down at the jacket as you promise the two won't be parted long.

Smiling at Zodyl, motioning with your fingers to follow as you walk backwards, careful to watch his features as you beckon him.

No sign of pain, no twitch of his lips, or lids. No tremors like that of a withdrawal, nothing but his usual stoic cadence as steps closer.

Guiding him into the tub, pulling him down until his back is pressed against your chest as he hisses from the heat of the water.

His hair is still wet from his own shower, icy as it drops on to your heated skin. Nails quick to take over his scalp as he settles into your hold.

“It's scalding.”

“Mmhmm.” You hum back with delight, moving your hands to his shoulders to press him tighter against you. He sighs deeply, barely registers the pain that engulfs him, the buzzing that dulls in his bones and falls to a deaf mind.

Washed over by the burning water, more so by your soft skin. Tender breasts against his toned back, small hands gently pressed to his sternum as thick thighs lock around his waist.

After a few moments of your fingers circling his skin, his eyes slip shut.

“See, a hot bath does you good.” Pressing your lips to his throat before you hook your chin over his shoulder, “Like medicine for the heart and soul.”

Glancing out of the corner of his eye to see your deadly cat smile making him chuckle softly. Watching you sideways for a long moment before he presses his lip to your temple.

“I think it's more than the water.”