You get the gist. You’re the one thing that’s most effective in keeping him awake; or that’s the excuse he gives for it every time (and that you accept.)

That’s why you’re not all that surprised when, halfway through a near four hour drive back to headquarters, you feel a big, warm hand clap over your thigh and give it the smallest squeeze.

And you dart your eyes over to Enjin briefly, who’s own are are still glued to the road; but the curving grin on his lips tells you everything. Makes his intention crystal clear.

And by now, it’s routine. Something you’ve come to expect—even anticipate. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and glance out of the window; it’s still just wasteland on all sides, without the smallest hint of sentient life besides you and your boyfriend.

No trash beasts, no people. Just you and him.

So with a bit too much eagerness, you widen your legs; and Enjin lets out a rumbling, appreciative hum. The first noise made between the two of you in the last half hour.

His fingers are quick and dexterous in the way he unbuttons your pants, and, with fluid familiarity, they zone in on your most sensitive part with diabolical precision the instant they’re tucked beneath the hem.

Oh, no. You just can’t help the little gasp that leaves your lips when he rubs the pads of his fingers over your clothed clit in those small swirls that drive you crazy.

“Hmm, responsive are we?” Enjin mumbles in that cocky little tone that screams he’s completely aware of how skilled he is. It’s so frustratingly hot.

“Just get on with it.” You grit out, cunt already beginning to slicken from his fingers working over your pearl.

“Oooooh—and she’s eager. My favorite combination.” Enjin teases, trailing the pad of his index finger down to press against the spot in your panties that is quickly dampening.

You want to roll your eyes, maybe even give him a little slap to the arm for his cheek. But he’s dancing his fingers in that way that has your jaw going slack, and when he slides the bridge of your panties to the side to gain unfettered access to your drooly cunt, you lose about sixty percent of your coherency.

“Fu-huuuuuck, she’s definitely eager. All pretty and wet already.” Enjin drawls, hot pads slipping through your folds and gathering the slick you’ve already spilled out—which he then uses to once again swirl his fingers around your clit, except with a much smoother and pleasurable slide.

Yep, there goes seventy percent.

“Shit,” you hiss out, thighs tensing in response to his affections. There’s little bolts of electricity that shoot up your spine with each complete circle Enjin draws over your clit, and you feel your gummy walls start to pulse around nothing. Fuck, they’re practically aching; and when you feel your orgasm start to burgeon from Enjin’s fingers, they simply ache more.

Fuck, you don’t know how he does it—how he’s able to maintain such a speed and rhythm that even you can’t manage on your own. How he’s able to draw you so close to orgasm so quickly.

“Feel good, baby?” Enjin presses, almost gleefully, speeding up his fingers and making your eyes roll back. “Do you like the way I play with your clit, hmm? Mmhmm, I think you do…”

Fuck him. Just fuck him. Fucking arrogant sex god.

“I wouldn’t go that far—I just know what my girl likes, that’s all.”

You’re briefly confused at Enjin’s statement. Until you realize you’d just muttered your thoughts out loud—and now there’s the biggest, cockiest smirk on his lips.

You’re in the middle of letting out a groan when Enjin abandons your clit in favor of sliding his fingers down to your slit, and with no warning he sinks them knuckle deep into your pussy.

The both of you vocalize in unison—Enjin with a drawn, rough groan of “fuuuuuck”; and you with a rather embarrassing moan.

“Fuck, baby, they went right in. Hah, holy shit—mmm, you’re so soaked. And just listen to those li’l whimpers… fuck…” He rumbles, voice a touch husky now. The first real sign that he’s even half as affected by the situation as you are.

And fuck. You can’t even help the noises you’re making; can’t even think about trying to bite them back. His fingers piston into you with slow precision, simply opening up your gooey walls and pressing into that gummy spot at the top. There’s a faint, slick squelch that accompanies each thrust, and it has your cheeks heating up.

“Want me to go faster, baby?” Enjin coos, curling those inked fingers up and sending euphoria through your veins. You’re still worked up from the stimulation to your clit, orgasm still eddying just beneath your tummy. “You’re twitching like fuckin’ crazy. You must be getting close, yeah?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, body hotter than the goddamn sun. Each slide is just so good, so precise. Enjin knows exactly what he’s doing. Knows exactly how to rub, how to curl. Knows which spots to press on and when to do so. The thought of feeling him fingerfuck you faster has your cunny clenching tightly.

“Fuck—god, you’re so hot.” Over your own low moans and squelching cunt, you can hear a few other noises—labored breathing and the ruffle of fabric. You peel open your eyes long enough to glance over, and you’re immediately struck with a chord of panic.

Enjin has completely abandoned the wheel, one hand tucked into your cunt and the other palming over his cock, which tents up his pants like a goddamn flagpole. And the only thing actually steering the wheel?

His knee.

Your eyes widen. “Enjin—”

“I got it.” He cuts you off, a little sharply. He hisses through his teeth and gives his cock a squeeze. “I won’t fuckin’ wreck—this shit’s painful, okay? I’m so hard I could cut steel. Fuck.”

Had he not sped up his fingers to distract you, the anxiety may have swallowed up your arousal; but now, his fingers were pistoning into you so roughly and wetly that your brain starts to turn to mush from the stimulation. So you drop it, and melt back into your seat, letting your thighs spread open even further. Letting his fingers spear to your swollen, soft cervix.

Fuck, it feels so fucking good. To have his fingers spread you open over and over, fucking a straight pool from your cunt that soaks into the seat below you. His rough pads pressing into your sweet spot with every drag—shit, you’re getting so close.

“Fuck—good girl. That’s it. Stay quiet and let me fingerfuck this pussy nice and deep—hah, shit. Mnngggh, good girl…”

You can’t even tell who’s feeling the most pleasure—you or Enjin. His hand works so furiously over his cock, low groans and curses erupting from his throat like some wild river; you swear the jeep may be rocking side to side, though you aren’t sure why.

“Fuckin’—pussy’s divine, baby. Squeezin’ my fingers—god, I just wan’a bury m’cock in it.” Enjin slurs, and the suggestion alone—the phantom stretch of his fat cock spreading you open—is enough to have your legs shaking.

If he keeps going like this—

“‘Jin—‘m close.” You whine, hips starting to rut forward. Each buck has your puffy clit connecting with his rough palm, and it only serves to built that tension even more.

“Fuck, yeah? Gonna cum? Mmm, that’s a good fuckin’ girl—c’mon, make a mess on my fingers. Shit, hell, make sure it soaks into the seat, too—cum f’me, baby; give it to me.”

That’s really the final straw for you—his fingers fucking your cunt, palm pressing your clit, and filthy words falling from his lips. Your vision whites when it hits, slit gushing around his fingers and clit pulsing to the rhythm of your fast heartbeat.

No one’s ever been able to make you cum just from fingering like this—not even yourself.

“Shiiiit, baby—mhmm, I got you. You’re okay, baby. Good girl, just ride it out, sweetheart.”

You don’t even really register the way Enjin is guiding you through the aftershock. You can feel his fingers sliding slowly in and out of your pussy, can hear the warm heat of his voice—but you’re a bit fuzzy right now, body still gripped by searing euphoria.

So it takes you an embarrassing few moments to actually float back down to reality, and the first thing you really register is Enjin’s shit-eating smirk. Like he’s so proud of himself.

Maybe it would look more convincing if the front of his pants weren’t tented and stained with precum. He’s so worked up, even though he doesn’t want to show it with his expression.

But you know how to play that game, too.

You grip his wrist, only twitching slightly when his fingers slide out of your gooey cunt, and guide his tatted hand up. Enjin watches you, smirk still on his face but eyes curious—and you keep the contact steady when you wrap your lips around his dewy fingers.

Enjin’s eyes grow wide as you suck and twirl your tongue around the digits, and the smirk falls from his face.

“Holy shit,” he hisses, gaze darkening. “Holy fuck.” He repeats, like some sort of parrot. “That’s fucking—mmm, shit—that’s so hot, baby.”

You pull your mouth off with a satisfying pop and examine your work. “All clean.” You quip lightly, releasing your grip on his wrist. But it stays in the air, almost as if Enjin can’t use the brain power required to retract it back to his person.

He’s staring at you with an expression that’s a bit unreadable, and his lips twitch, almost like he’s about to speak—

The jeep jerks savagely and there’s sound of metal scraping, and it seems to snap Enjin back to reality. His hands fly to the wheel to right the course, and his eyes glue themselves back to the road.

“Shit,” he hisses, and you draw your legs together and cozy yourself up to the window, a satisfied smile on your face.

Sure, you may be the one whose body feels like absolute goo right now, but you know you definitely won that little game that Enjin so desperately wanted to play.

and the one species that seems to be in rut six days out of the week, and so incredibly possessive that if he smells even the faintest hint of another male on you he goes damn near savage.

so savage and possessive that he has to overpower the scent in the only way he knows how—by fucking his own straight into your womb, by dumping load after load into your pussy.

and it’s at these times that you’re brutally reminded of the difference in your strength, especially when he’s dead set on filling you up til you burst. when he’s got both of your hands pinned above your head with just one of his and your hips raised with the other, keeping your body lined perfectly to bruise his cock straight into your cervix with every wet, squelching thrust.

“aahhh—nng—enjin! fuck!—sl-slow down!” you mewl out, cunt so cum-slick and sore, clit puffy and tortured. the pleasure is so intense that you can’t even tell if it is still pleasure anymore—and of course he simply ignores you, as if your need for a fucking break isn’t all that dire.

he gives you nothing more than a squeeze to your wrists and a low growl from his throat. those eyes—the ones that had entranced you from the start—glow brightly even in the dim lighting of the room, stoked by a furious flame of something you can’t identify.

“can’t.” he huffs out, cock still so hard despite being drained multiple times. his stamina hasn’t seemed to have depleted at all, his pace still as fast and rough just as it was at the start. “i can still fuckin’ smell him—what were you even around today? some stupid, weak, inexperienced, sniveling pup? fuck, it stinks—hah, why is it so strong?”

your memory of the day has truly been fucked foggy, but a blurry image of gray ears and a hyperactive tail float to the forefront of your mushy brain. riiiiight… follo. the gentle, sweet wolf hybrid gris recently adopted.

fuck, you really shouldn’t have visited him today. really, really shouldn’t have. gris’ scent alone irritates enjin when he smells it on you—but throw another male hybrid into the mix… it was no wonder enjin was so careless with your body right now.

your human body. he seems to have forgotten that in this fog of possessive rage. if he keeps fucking you like this, you fear you’ll collapse. it’s just too much—

“enjin—fuck, you’re being—t-too rough! i-i can’t take it—please, jus’ s-slow down—nnnhhh—!”

and to your immense relief, enjin actually does; his thrusts turn from rabid and forced to something more shallow. still stuffing you full of his cock, still fucking his loads into you, but at a much more tolerable—and pleasurable—rhythm.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs, fingers loosening around your wrists fractionally. “i-i don’t mean to be so rough—you just—you just don’t get it.”

his head falls to the crook of your sweaty neck, lips ghosting over the flesh. “you—when you have another’s scent on you—fuck… i can’t take it.”

his breath is shaky. tone low and dangerous. you aren’t sure if it’s his cock spreading you open or the thinly veiled vulnerability in his voice that has your pussy fluttering and heart beating strangely.

“when you picked me up from the center… you became mine.” your breath shudders and your cunt clenches at the pointed graze of teeth against your skin. “all fucking mine.”

“you get that, yeah?” he presses, tongue smoothing over your pulse point. “please baby… tell me you get it.”

his hips piston slowly, cock sliding deliciously against your walls; it feels so much better now, that sweet spot caressed almost lovingly by his thickness. your head is going fuzzy for a completely different reason now.

“baby,” he repeats when you don’t answer, nudging his nose against your jawline. you gasp in response, brows furrowed as you try desperately to grasp the ability to talk. “tell me.”

“i get it,” you bluster out, almost automatically, without really any thought. but it’s enough for enjin, and he growls deeply in appreciation.

“that’s a good fucking girl—nnnngh fuck, yeah—all mine, baby.” enjin’s hips start to pick up speed, and your toes curl. it’s not rough like before, as if enjin’s goal had somehow curved from marking you to pleasing you.

and fuck, is he doing just that. fucking into you deeply yet gently, pressing into every sweet spot nestled in your gummy walls. blunt cock head kissing your cervix with just the right amount of pressure to have your eyes rolling back.

“this body is mine,” a squeeze to your hips. “this neck is mine.” a deep prick of his teeth that has your whole body flinching back from the pain. “this pussy is mine. this pretty fucking pussy is all mine to fuck and breed. isn’t that right?”

“yesyesyes,” you blabber, gut rolling and cunny drooling. “all yours, ‘jin—fuck, please—” you’re starting to get close, so embarrassingly close—all from a change in the pace.

“yes, that’s fucking right.” enjin all but snarls, nails digging into the flesh of your hip. “you’re mine. an’ i’m gonna fuck my cum so deep into you that you’ll smell like me forever.”

“‘s your fault,” you muttered back, lips skirting against the skin of his tatted neck. he was so hard beneath you, thick cock sliding against your cunt through the layers of clothes; even with the obstruction you were leaking, so thoroughly stimulated by his size alone.

“don’t see—mmmfuck!—how.” enjin panted back, hips rolling up to press his cock firmer against your heated core, pulling a desperate mewl from your lips.

“bullshit,” you countered breathlessly, waist jerking and lungs shuddering. you were so horny it was painful. “you knew what you were, hah, fuck!—what you were fuckin’ doing wearing these.”

enjin groaned low and the couch creaked as his hips picked up speed, fucking his bulge against you faster and faster; your vision grew slightly blurry at the onslaught of stimulation, arousal ramping up at the feel of that thick cock sliding against you—your cunt fluttered while slick dripped from your folds, pussy begging to be stretched.

“maybe i did,” he relented as he snaked his arms fully around your waist and pulled your chest into his. “maybe i thought you’d be droolin’ f’my cock the second you saw me. and i was right, wasn’t i, baby? you’re droolin’ from both ends, yeah?”

you bit back the whine that crawled up your throat, your body so hot and buzzed and liquified —fuck, you were losing it.

“god, you’re fuckin’ dripping, baby girl,” enjin growled, “i can feel it. is she ready f’me, hmm? all ready to get fucked? and all from a pair of sweats?”

now you couldn’t bite back your voice; it erupted from your throat in the form of a desperate mewl, cunt aching at the invitation, needy for that thick cock—

“yesyesyes—fuck me.” you warbled out, grinding down harder against him, sweet friction exploding against your clit and shooting stars to your vision. “wan’ your cock so baaaad, ‘jinnie.”

it had practically been teasing you all day, blessing you with a glorious vision of his dick print when he moved in just the right way. it was hardly your fault for wanting it, and you’d stand firm on that.

your answer had enjin groaning hotly against your collar bone and your skin pimpled pleasantly when his lips pressed against it in a chaste kiss.

enjin’s voice bordered on a growl when he pressed a second later, “i’ll give it t’you, baby. first i want ya t’cum just like this, okay? can you do that f’me, baby? rub yourself on m’cock ‘til you cum?” there was an edge of desperation to his tone, and you vaguely wondered if this was some sort of fetish for him.

you nod and whine as you ruck your hips forward, down, in circles; just using whatever movement gave you the most vivid stimulation so that your clit was absolutely throbbing, orgasm bubbling slowly in your gut, desperate to reach the surface and blind you with euphoria.

“good girl, that’s it—fuckin’ grind on this big cock. you love it, don’cha, doll?” enjin slurred, mouthing at your skin between words. it’s all going to your head and your pussy—the stimulation, the heat, enjin’s voice, enjin’s scent, his hands and his touch… fuck, you’re so, so drunk on him. almost too drunk to properly function.

but that orgasm that’s still teasing below your skin propels your sloppy self, and enjin’s soft coos and absolutely filthy words are stirring your gut up almost as much as his thick cock against your swollen clit. so, it only takes you a minute more of humping him to unravel, to have you trembling to your very bones while you gush, clit gaining a heartbeat and white waves of euphoria crashing through your body.

you can actually feel how wet you are, just how hard you’ve cum; you’re still making a mess, slick drooling down to soak into enjin’s sweats with every pulse of your clit. it’s almost too intense.

but enjin helps you ride it all out with sweet praises and even sweeter physical affections. he doesn’t try to control your rhythm, simply lets you grind your sopping cunt over him at your own pace.

and he waits only until you’ve stopped moving—sans the few tremors still assaulting your body—to manipulate his own in any way. it’s subtle; he simply shifts you back a few inches, as if he’s hyper aware of how sensitive you are. his eyes immediately down to the large dark patch you’ve painted over his crotch.

“well, fuck,” enjin chuckles, reaching a hand down between your bodies to palm at his bulge. “these sweats are ruined. ah, well. not that it matters. they’re about to get even messier, anyway. time to give ya what ya were asking for, so get those fucking shorts off, baby—”

safe to say, enjin will be investing in more sweats. he doesn’t care how many the two of you end up ruining.