Chain of Command
Summary: After a mission went to hell from bad intel, you clean up your boys. Your stress is high, your Commander is on your nerves, and you think you're about to lose your mind. You can't ignore the tension that's been building up, and it comes to a breaking point. Pairing: Alpha-17 x Reader Warnings: 18+, MDNI! Shameless smut, Dom!Alpha-17, Rough Sex Words: 5,289 A/N: A gift fic for @milkshaketheboybringer â¤ď¸ Crossposted on AO3
The safehouse reeked of smoke and scorched metal, a low hum from the damaged generator filling the silence. It was more of a shack than anything, but it gave the four of you a chance to hole up and check your injuries.Â
Well, it would be the four of you, once A-17 dragged his ass back in.Â
As usual, he made sure the rest of his squadron got to safety first, and then insisted on a final sweep of the area. You tightened your jaw, nerves frayed, as you worked. You never liked it when he lagged behind.Â
You checked out Odd Ball first, having been closest to the explosion. Thankfully, his armor had protected him from the majority of the damage. He had a few burns that you slathered in bacta and a deep gouge on his chest that you stitched up easily. The rest were just scrapes and bruises that would heal with time. He thanked you with a smile and a pat to your shoulder.Â
âGood job out there today, Doc.â he said. âNot bad for a civ.âÂ
You snorted and rolled your eyes. âThanks, commander.â you said. âGo get some rest.â He nodded, scrubbing a hand down his face, and headed for one of the bunk rooms hidden away in the back. Heâd picked up his kit and sighed wearily, liking the sound of a decent nap.Â
Jorir sat down hard on the crate, already scowling at you before Odd Ball had even made it halfway down the hall. âI told you it was fine,â he grumbled, beginning to mutter in Mandoâa as you reached for his arm.
âUh-huh,â you replied dryly. âAnd if youâd listened to me ten minutes ago, your shoulder wouldnât be halfway out of its socket.â
He hissed when you reset it, teeth clenched, then let out a sharp breath. âKriff,â he muttered. âYou enjoy this too much, Doc.â
You snorted. âTrust me, I donât.â Your hand reached into your medkit and you found the stims and painkillers effortlessly, your eyes scanning Jorir for any other injuries as you grabbed your other supplies. You held the stims between your teeth, also grabbing a sling and a few bacta patches for the cuts on his forehead and cheeks.Â
â17 is gonna need to get me some new coils and a thermal distributor before we can go anywhere. Those karking droids put us on the ground for a while.âÂ
âUh huh,â you muttered around the vial in your mouth. You slammed one of the stims into his good shoulder, quickly followed by the other. âYou arenât going to be working on any engines for a while, trooper.âÂ
That was when the door creaked open.
You didnât look up, but you felt it. The shift in the air. The weight of another presence, familiar enough to make your shoulders loosen and tighten all at once. Your hands stilled for half a second before muscle memory kicked back in and you continued working, finishing applying the bacta patches and giving Jorir the sling with quiet instructions to kriffing use it.
Jorir glanced past you, then back again. His scowl slowly morphed into something far more amused, a smirk playing on his lips.
âWell,â he said, wiggling his brows exaggeratedly as he stood, rolling his shoulders once. âLooks like youâve got priority care coming in.â
Heat crept up your neck as you stood with him. âJorirââ
âIâll go check the ship,â he added quickly, already backing toward the door. âMake sure nothingâsâŚuhâŚon fire.â His gaze flicked pointedly between you and Alpha-17. âTry not to wreck the rest of the equipment, yeah?â
And then he was gone, laughing to himself as the door shut behind him, leaving the safehouse suddenly far too quiet.
The silence stretched after the door shut, thick and heavy in a way that had nothing to do with the smoke. You were suddenly acutely aware of how close he wasâŚclose enough that you could feel the warmth of him at your back, steady and grounding.
âDoc.â
You swallowed. Damn.Â
His voice was lower than before, stripped of battlefield sharpness. It wasnât loud; it didn't need to be. It landed anyway.
You finally looked up, feeling like your heart was in your throat.Â
Alpha stood just inside the doorway, helmet tucked under his arm, armor scorched and scratched in a way that made your stomach tighten. His gaze swept over you in one slow, deliberate pass, your face, your hands, the faint tension still wound through your posture, before settling, intent and unreadable.
âYou okay?â he asked.
It was such a simple question. It shouldnât have hit as hard as it did.
âIâm fine,â you said automatically, then huffed a quiet breath. âEveryone else is stable. No critical injuries.â Your brows furrowed as your eyes were drawn back to the scorch marks on his armor. âI should take a look at you, though. Make sure your injuries arenât bad.â
His jaw tightened, just a fraction. âThatâs not what I asked,â he said lowly.
You hesitated, fingers brushing through the hair that youâd taken out of the regulation bun. âIâŚâ you sighed before nodding. âYeah. Iâm okay.â
Alpha stepped closer, setting his bucket down and crossing his arms. His movements werenât rushed or aggressive. JustâŚinevitable. The space between you narrowed until his presence filled your peripheral vision, his attention so focused it felt like a physical thing.
âYou did good out there,â he said, voice steady and certain. âYou kept your head when things went to hell. You kept my men alive.â His eyes lifted to meet yours fully now, a small smile tugging at his lips. âYou kept me alive.â
Heat crept up your neck at the weight of his gaze. Praise from the others was one thing. It was casual, easy.Â
This was different. This felt earned in a way that made your chest tighten and your pulse speed up.
âI was just doing my job,â you murmured, looking away.Â
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. âYou keep saying that.â He paused, eyes flicking briefly to the medkit, then back to you. âDoesnât make it any less impressive.â
He reached out, not touching you yet, but close enough that you felt the intent in the motion. âYouâve been running on fumes since we hit the ground,â he added quietly. âNow everyone else is taken care of.â His gaze softened, just a bit. âYou donât have to keep holding on anymore.â
The words settled over you like a release valve you hadnât realized you were holding shut.
For a moment, it was just the two of you. No mission. No squad. Just the low hum of the generator and Alpha-17 standing far too close, looking at you like nothing else in the galaxy mattered quite as much.
He didnât move away.
You waited for it, for the subtle retreat, the professional distance to snap back into place now that the squad was gone.Â
It never came.
Instead, Alpha stayed right where he was, close enough that you could see the scars and burns along his armor, close enough that his attention felt almost tangible. His gaze lingered, steady and assessing, as if he were committing every detail of you to memory.
You shifted, suddenly aware of how small the space felt. âAlphaâŚâ you started, not entirely sure what you were about to say.Â
He raised a brow, saying your name in response, his voice rumbling from his chest.
He was your commanding officer. You were his medic. Your mind was conjuring all sorts of things that would probably get you both court martialled, but hearing your name fall from his lips in that tone of voice sent heat rushing through you.Â
He tilted his head slightly, studying you. âYou notice things, Doc,â he said quietly. âDetails. Patterns.â His eyes flicked briefly to your hands, still hovering near the medkit, then back to your face. âSo tell me. What are you noticing right now?â
Your breath caught. You could feel the answer in your body before you found the word. The heat, the tension, the way your pulse had kicked up the moment you realized he wasnât backing off. You could see the intensity in his gaze, the predatory stance, the possessive angling of his body.
âThat youâreâŚstill standing there,â you said softly.
A corner of his mouth curved, but it wasnât quite a smile. âGood.â He stepped just a fraction closer, enough that his overwhelming presence became impossible to ignore. âBecause Iâm not done yet.â
His voice dropped, stripped of command and edged with something far more personal. âYouâve been holding it together all night. For them.â A pause. âFor me.â His gaze softened, intent narrowing until it felt like the rest of the room had disappeared. âIâm not going anywhere until you stop.â
The words settled low in your chest, loosening something you hadnât realized was wound so tight. Alpha-17 remained exactly where he was; close, attentive, and unmistakably focused on you.
His hand lifted, slow enough that you saw the decision in it. Slow enough to give you the chance to tell him to stop.Â
He didnât rush. Didnât grab. His fingers brushed the edge of your sleeve first, a light, grounding touch. He was giving you every chance to pull away, every chance to end whatever this was before it got started.Â
But you didnât.
Your breath caught instead.
His thumb pressed gently into the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse jumped under his skin. He felt it, of course he did, and his gaze sharpened, locking onto yours with quiet intensity.
âEasy,â he murmured, not a command, but reassurance. âIâve got you.â
Something in your chest loosened at that. You hadnât realized how tightly youâd been holding yourself together until his touch made it unnecessary.
Alpha stepped closer, the space between your bodies minimal. His hand slid from your wrist to your forearm, steady and warm, anchoring. âYou donât have to be âDocâ for me right now,â he said quietly. âYou can justâŚbe.â
You leaned into him before you fully realized you were doing it, your shoulder brushing his chest. The contact was soft, tentative, and it sent a spark straight through you.
His breath stuttered, just barely.
That was all the permission either of you needed.
Alphaâs hand shifted, settling at the curve of your waist, firm but reverent, thumb pressing lightly as if to ask the question his voice didnât. You answered by relaxing into the touch, letting your weight rest there.
âGood,â he hummed softly, approval threading through the word. âThatâs it.â
The safehouse felt smaller now, the hum of the generator fading into the background as his attention narrowed fully on you.Â
No squad. No mission.Â
Just the quiet heat of his hand at your waist and the unspoken promise in the way he didnât let go.
His thumb shifted at your waist, pressing just enough to make you aware of it. Alphaâs gaze flicked briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes, a faint, knowing curve at the corner of his mouth.
âThere it is,â he murmured. âThat look.â
You swallowed. âWhat look?â You silently hated how breathless you already sounded.
âThe one you get when youâre pretending you donât know exactly whatâs happening.â His voice dropped, warm with amusement. âYouâve had it all night. Every time I got too close. Every time I didnât listen and stayed in the line of fire.â
You huffed softly, trying to sound unaffected as you rolled your eyes. âYouâre impossible.â
A quiet chuckle vibrated through his chest, close enough that you felt it. âFunny,â he said. âI was thinking the same thing about you. All business. All focus.â His thumb traced a slow, deliberate arc where his hand rested. âAnd still reacting to me like this.â
Heat bloomed low and undeniable. You shifted without meaning to, and his eyes darkened immediately.
âCareful, Doc,â he teased gently. âIf you keep leaning in like that, someone might think you want this.â
You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze heatedly despite the way your pulse raced. âAnd what if I do?â you challenged.
That finally earned you a real smile, one that was slow, dangerous, and unmistakably pleased. âThen,â Alpha said quietly, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush your cheek, âIâd say youâve earned a little more attention than Iâve been giving you.â
His hand didnât move away.
If anything, it settled more firmly against your plush skin, claiming the space, the moment, the tension. It left the promise of what came next hanging deliciously between you.
Alphaâs thumb stilled at your waist, then resumed its slow, deliberate press, as if he were testing how aware you were of it. âYou know,â he murmured, voice low and almost thoughtful, âFor someone who insists sheâs all businessâŚyouâre not very good at hiding when you want something.â
You scoffed softly, though your breath came out a little uneven. âPretty bold claim.â
His eyes flicked to your mouth again, lingering this time. âIs it?â he asked quietly. âBecause every time I get this closeâŚâ He leaned in just enough that his presence filled your senses. ââŚyou stop pretending.â
Your pulse jumped. He felt it again and this time he smiled like heâd won something.
âRelax,â Alpha added, with warmth in his voice. âIf I were going to push you, Doc, youâd know.â A pause. âThis?â His thumb pressed just slightly more firmly. âThis is me being patient.â
The implication settled heavy and electric between you.
âAnd if I stop being patient,â he continued softly, eyes never leaving yours, âI have a feeling you wonât complain.â
You hummed, eyes trailing over his features. âAnd if I did?âÂ
He chuckled. âEvery time you think youâre in control, DocâŚyouâre not.â
Your eyes lit up, something dark and dangerous. âSoâŚshow me who is.âÂ
The challenge hung in the air between you, a gauntlet thrown down in the quiet room. The smile that had been playing on Alpha-17âs lips didnât just widen, it sharpened. It was the look of a predator who had been invited to the hunt.
âCareful what you wish for, Doc,â he murmured, the words a low rumble that vibrated through your very bones. âYou asked for this.â
His patience evaporated. The hand at your waist stopped its gentle teasing and tightened, fingers digging into your flesh with a possessive grip that stole the air from your lungs. He used that hold to pull you flush against him, the hard planes of his armor pressing into you, unyielding and absolute. The other hand shot up, tangling in your hair, his grip firm as he angled your head exactly where he wanted it.
There was no hesitation. No tentative first kiss. His mouth crashed down on yours, a claiming, a branding. It was hungry and demanding, his tongue sweeping past your lips to stake its claim. He tasted of ozone and smoke, something uniquely him, a flavor that was all Alpha-17. He kissed you like he was starving, like heâd been waiting for this moment for months and was finally taking what was his. A low groan rumbled in his chest when you kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands coming up to grip the pauldrons of his armor, holding on for dear life.
When he finally pulled back, it was only enough to speak, his lips brushing yours with every word. âThatâs better,â he breathed, his voice thick with satisfaction. âNo more pretending.â
He didnât give you a chance to respond. He maneuvered you backward, his body a solid wall of muscle and plastoid guiding you until your back hit the cold metal of a supply crate. The impact was jarring, but his body was there immediately, caging you in, one hand slamming beside your head on the crate, the other still fisted in your hair. He loomed over you, a shadow of pure dominance, and the sheer scale of him in the small space was intoxicating.
âLook at you,â he growled, his gaze raking over your heaving chest and flushed face. âAll that control, justâŚgone.â He leaned in, his nose tracing the line of your jaw. âYou wanted to know whoâs in charge? Itâs me, meshâla.â
His free hand left the crate, his movements sure and practiced as he found the hem of your shirt. He didnât ask. He didnât have to. With a single, decisive tug, he pulled it up and over your head, tossing it aside like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. The cool air hit your skin, pebbling your nipples into tight points, and you heard his breath hitch.
âKriffing perfect,â he muttered, more to himself than to you. His eyes, dark and intense, devoured the sight of you. His hand returned, not to your waist this time, but to the large swell of your breast, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of your bra. The touch was electric, a jolt of pure pleasure that shot straight to your core.
You arched into his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips. The sound seemed to break something in him. His mouth was on you again, hot and demanding as he kissed a trail down your neck. He bit down gently where your neck met your shoulder, a sharp, possessive sting that made you cry out with want. He soothed the mark with his tongue, a wet, warm glide that only made the throb between your legs intensify.
âAlpha,â you gasped, his name a broken plea. âPlease!â
âSay my name again,â he commanded against your skin, his voice a low growl. âI want to hear it when I make you fall apart.â
His hand left your breast, sliding down your stomach to the waistband of your pants. He paused, his fingers hooking into the fabric, his eyes locking onto yours. The question was clear, the final point of surrender.
You answered by lifting your hips, a silent, desperate permission.
He made a sound of pure, unadulterated triumph. In one fluid motion, he tugged your pants and underwear down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles. He didnât bother removing them completely. He just spread your thick thighs with his knee, his gaze dropping to the slick, wet heat heâd just exposed.
âSo responsive,â he praised, his voice thick with lust. âAll this for me.â He ran a single finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on his fingertip. You whimpered, your hips bucking, seeking more. He brought his finger to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he tasted you. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. âDelicious.â
Then he was on his knees before you.
The sight was enough to make your head spin, Alpha-17, the unshakeable ARC commander, kneeling at your feet, his face level with your most intimate place. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you completely to his gaze. You didnât even have time to feel self conscious about the width of your hips or the rolls on your stomach before his voice cut through the stillness again.Â
âRemember this feeling, Doc,â he said, his voice a dark promise. âRemember whoâs making you feel it.â
And then his mouth was on you. He didnât start slow. He licked a long, broad stripe up your slit, his tongue flat and firm, before circling your clit with devastating precision. He ate you out like a man possessed, all consuming hunger and absolute focus. He alternated between sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue, his beard stubble a delicious friction against your sensitive skin.
Your hands flew to his hair, your fingers tangling in the curly strands as you ground your hips against his face. The pressure coiled in your belly, tight and hot, and you could feel yourself hurtling toward the edge with a speed that was almost frightening.
âAlpha⌠please,â you begged, not even sure what you were begging for.
He responded by doubling his efforts, one of his hands coming up to slide two fingers inside you. He curled them immediately, finding that spot inside you that made you see stars. He pumped them in and out, his mouth never ceasing its assault on your clit.
The orgasm that ripped through you was violent and all-consuming. It was a blinding wave of pleasure that crashed over you, stealing your breath and making your entire body shake. You cried out his name, a ragged, broken sound that echoed in the small room as you came against his mouth and his hand.
He didnât stop. He worked you through it, his tongue and fingers drawing out every last spasm of pleasure until you were a boneless, panting mess against the crate. Only then did he pull back, his face glistening with your release, his expression one of smug satisfaction.
He rose to his feet, his movements fluid and powerful. He looked down at you, his chest heaving slightly, his eyes burning with a possessive fire that made your breath catch.
âWeâre not done,â he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. He reached for the fastenings of his codpiece, the sound of the armor plates clicking open loud in the sudden silence. âNot by a long shot.â
The heavy plates of his codpiece hit the floor with a clang that was deafening in the quiet room, but your attention was nowhere near the sound. Your eyes were locked on him, on the hard, thick length of his cock that sprang free from the confines of his blacks. He was already impossibly hard, flushed a dark, angry color and leaking at the tip. He was big, bigger than youâd let yourself imagine, and the sight sent a fresh jolt of pure, unadulterated lust through you.
He wrapped a hand around himself, giving a slow, deliberate stroke, his eyes never leaving yours. âSee something you like, Doc?â he taunted, his voice a low, gravelly purr.
You could only nod, your mouth suddenly dry. You were honestly surprised he wanted more.Â
âGood,â he grunted. He stepped forward, crowding you against the crate again. His hands went to your hips, gripping you tight as he lifted you. It was effortless. Your legs locked around his hips and you gasped at the sensation of being in his arms, being wholly encompassed by his heat and strength.Â
He placed you on top of the cold metal crate, the sudden height putting you perfectly at eye level with him. He spread your legs with his hands, his fingertips digging into your thighs with enough pressure to leave bruises before positioning himself between them.
He leaned in, his mouth next to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. âIâm going to fuck you now,â he stated, it wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact. It made you whimper against him, wishing his shoulders were bare so you could feel his skin beneath your fingers. âIâm going to fuck you so hard you wonât remember your own name. All youâre going to remember is mine.â
He didnât wait for an answer. He lined himself up with your entrance, the thick head of his cock teasing your slick, sensitive folds. He pushed in, just the tip, and the stretch was immediate, a delicious, burning pressure that made you gasp. Your hands flew to his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his blacks beneath his pauldrons.
âFuck,â you breathed, your head falling back against the wall. Your knees tightened around him, pressing into his ribs as you took in short, ragged breaths.
He chuckled, a dark, triumphant sound. âThatâs the idea.â He pushed in further, inch by agonizing inch, his gaze locked on your face as he watched you take him. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but the way he was looking at you, like you were the most incredible thing heâd ever seen, made you want more.
You wanted all of him.
Finally, he was seated to the hilt, his hips flush against yours. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust, letting you feel the sheer, overwhelming fullness of him. He was so deep, a solid, unyielding presence inside you.
âYou feel that?â he growled, his voice strained with the effort of holding still. âThatâs where you belong. Stretched around my cock.â
You couldnât speak. You could only moan in response, your walls clenching around him involuntarily. You locked your ankles together behind his ass, urging him ever so slightly deeper, the head of his cock nudging your cervix and making you shudder bonelessly.Â
The movement seemed to be his breaking point. âThatâs it,â he snarled. âHold on.â
He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back into you. The force of it stole your breath, a sharp cry tearing from your throat. He set a brutal, punishing rhythm, his hips snapping against yours with enough force to rock the crate beneath you. He was fucking you exactly as heâd promised; hard, deep, without mercy.
His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back so he could bite at your throat. He was marking you, claiming every inch of you. The sounds were obscene, the slap of skin on skin, his guttural grunts of exertion, your own desperate, breathless moans.
âLook at me,â he commanded, his voice rough. âI want you to watch me while I fuck you.â
You forced your eyes open, meeting his burning gaze. The intensity in his eyes was staggering, a raw, primal possessiveness that was both terrifying and incredibly arousing. He watched you as he drove into you, his expression a mask of concentration and pure lust.
âYouâre mine,â he growled, punctuating the words with a particularly hard thrust that made you cry out. âSay it.â
âYours,â you gasped, the word ripped from you. âIâm yours, Alpha.â
A triumphant snarl ripped from his chest. He shifted his angle slightly, and on the next thrust, the head of his cock slammed directly against your g-spot. Your vision went white, a blinding flash of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. A choked sob escaped your lips.
âThere it is,â he grunted, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Heâd found it. And now he was going to destroy you with it.
He aimed for that spot again and again, his hips a relentless, pistoning machine. The pressure inside you built at an alarming rate, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to drown you completely. You were so close, teetering on the edge of a precipice.
âAlpha⌠I canâtâŚâ you whimpered, your body trembling uncontrollably.
âYes, you can,â he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. One of his hands snaked between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight, merciless circles. âCome for me. Now.â
The command was all it took. The orgasm that ripped through you was cataclysmic, a supernova of pleasure that obliterated everything else. You screamed his name, your body convulsing, your inner walls clamping down on him like a vise as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.
The feel of you pulsing around him was his undoing. With a guttural roar, he buried himself deep inside you one last time, his body going rigid as he poured himself into you. You could feel the hot, thick spurts of his release as he came, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his harsh, ragged breaths the only sound in the world.
For a long moment, you both just stayed like that, slumped against each other, your bodies slick with sweat and trembling in the aftermath. He was still inside you, a heavy, comforting weight. The low hum of the generator was the only sound that broke the silence, a steady reminder of the world outside this small, shattered bubble.
Finally, he lifted his head, his eyes soft as they met yours. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch impossibly gentle after the ferocity of what had just happened.
âTold you Iâd make you fall apart,â he murmured, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He leaned in and kissed you, a soft, lingering kiss that was a stark contrast to the brutal claiming from before. This one was slow, deep, and full of a quiet satisfaction that was somehow more overwhelming than the raw lust from moments earlier.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. âStay with me tonight, Doc,â he said, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable. âJustâŚstay.â
The quiet vulnerability in his voice was more disarming than any command heâd ever given. It was a crack in the formidable armor of Alpha, a glimpse of the man beneath the commander. You felt your chest tighten with an emotion that was far too complicated to name, something that went far beyond the raw lust of moments before.
You lifted a hand, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble there. âIâm not going anywhere,â you whispered, and the simple truth of the words settled between you, solid and real.
A soft sigh escaped him, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away. He leaned into your touch, just for a second, before his usual decisive nature took over. With a gentleness that was startling, he eased out of you, the loss of his presence leaving you feeling strangely empty. He reached down, grabbing your discarded trousers and helping you slide them back on, his hands lingering on your hips. He then pulled your shirt over your head, his knuckles brushing against your cheek as he did.
He didnât bother with his own armor. He simply scooped you up into his arms, one arm behind your back and the other under your knees, as if you weighed nothing. You looped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder, breathing in the scent of smoke, sweat, and him.
He carried you past the main room and down the short hallway to the bunk rooms, kicking open the door to the one he always claimed. It was sparse, just a narrow bunk and a footlocker, but it was private. He laid you down on the thin mattress with a reverence that made your heart ache, then stretched out beside you, pulling the scratchy military blanket over both of you.
He didnât say anything. He just pulled you into his arms, your back flush against his chest, his body a solid, warm presence behind you. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close, and you could feel the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart against your back. It was grounding, a silent promise that you were safe, that you were his.
You lay there in the semi darkness, the low hum of the generator a familiar lullaby. The adrenaline was gone, replaced by a bone deep exhaustion and a profound sense of peace. You could feel the faint, tender ache between your thighs, a physical reminder of his possession, but it was a comforting ache, a mark of his claim.
His lips brushed the crown of your head. âSleep,â he murmured, his voice a low rumble. âIâve got you.â
And for the first time since youâd landed on this karking rock, you believed it. You let your eyes drift shut, your body relaxing completely into his embrace, and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, held securely in the arms of the man who had both broken you and put you back together again.
~*~*~* Taglist: @milkshaketheboybringer @area-fiftyone @jetii























