#predator 2

Faster than you’d think for such mass, the Yautja swoops down and scoops you up in his arms, taking two long strides before dropping you down on the nest. You land with a grunt, almost sliding off the edge of the bed before Snake lodges himself in front of you. One of his knees slots between your thighs, pressing into the soft of your inner thigh. His other leg anchors him to the ground, and he uses the leverage to tower over you. The pelts shift where he plants his scaly paws, fingers splaying and gripping the bed. He’s close, too close, crowding your space and making you feel hotter than you already are— The ship is so blisteringly warm, you haven’t felt a reprieve from the heat even slightly. The Yautja whickers, cooing and purring like you’ve activated him in some fashion; though he isn’t nearly as immediately handsy, per se, as his companions, but he does start… smelling you?

You gasp when the Yautja’s head lowers to the nape of your neck, his tusked mandibles brushing your cheek and collar as they quiver. Each flex is in time with a deep, heady inhale he takes, and you blush more as Snake’s attention diverts from your neck to the center of your sternum. He glances up at you, the look in his eyes downright coquettish, and you shiver when he exhales, his breath fanning across your bare bosom. Before you can question what the Hell the Yautja thinks he’s doing, the long, wet muscle of his tongue slides from his mouth. It’s a deep shade of purple, prehensile, and you whimper when he traces the edge of your areola with its forked tip. You arch your back, delighting in the sparks of pleasure that bolt through you as he swirls around your nipple. Snake drags the length of his tongue across your chest to give the same treatment to your other breast. Your hands find his broad shoulders, fingers gripping his hard armor and the plush fur slung over one pauldron.

“Please.” You whine, almost crying out when his head dips lower and lower, just until his chin brushes against your mons. Snake mouths at your belly like he seeks to eat you, pinching your fat and leaving indents in the soft skin. He tilts his head to nip at your love handles, or stops to rub his jaws over your body, clearly scenting you. The way he’s acting is so animalistic; the attention is so primal. You want more of it. He growls, mandibles spreading, and his eyes widen ever so slightly— Like he’s drinking in your scent. It should embarrass you, having another person literally breathe in the musky smell of your cunt, but it only emboldens you— Exhilarates you. Every breath you take makes your head spin, so hot you can’t help but rock your hips to his touch. Snake practically radiates heat, a heat your body aches for. It’s no surprise then when the Yautja slides his knee up, slotting your cunt just above it. His scaled skin is firm, rough against the wet heat of your core, splitting your labia and grazing your clit.

“Feels good.” You sigh, rubbing your pussy against the hard muscle of his thigh, trying to stimulate your throbbing clit. Everything feels so good, like your senses have been dialed up to 100! Something has to be in the air, you think blearily, neck muscles relaxing so much your head lolls back. Your entire body feels like air, like you’ve dropped your mortal coil and turned into mist. Just as you think Snake will sweeten the deal and give you what you want, he does what his companion had earlier: Pulls away. The Yautja— Who had been so delightfully licking your nipples— removes his mouth from your breast. He straightens up, unfurling to his full height to peer down at you with warm umber eyes. His mandibles click, and you could practically mourn as you watch his tongue retreat back into his inner mouth. The tight, hot coil in your belly ebbs away, though frustration keeps you warm in spite of losing it.