He could feel the pressure building inside him but even worse, he could feel the terrible drag toward the void beginning once more.
The first time it happened after their night in bed together, they had been in the spooler enclosure, trying to coax one particularly stubborn, turquoise—furred menace out of the drainage pipes where it had gone to sulk. Brux had felt a heaviness come over his mind–a strange dulling at the edges–but had told himself it was only fatigue.
Then Kiera turned, looked at him sharply, and her eyes widened.
“Oh no,” she said. “No, no—come here.”
He had not understood what she meant at first. Then she had taken him by the hand and all but dragged him behind the nearest service shed where the work—bots couldn’t observe them.
“Kiera?” he had asked, still trying to hold onto words and her name felt heavy in his mouth–as though he was trying to speak with a mouthful of pebbles.
But she was already pressing close to him, cupping his face in both hands and looking up into his eyes with fierce concentration.
“They’re gold again,” she told him. “And your face is starting to…starting to change.” She bit her lip. “You need more contact, don’t you?”
Brux had nodded because speech was already becoming harder, and his mouth was losing the ability to form words.
But Kiera wasn’t about to let him go. The next moment she had put her arms around his neck and pressed herself flush against him.
The heat of her warm, curvy body had gone through him like a shock. Her soft curves molded to his hard frame and her breasts crushed against his chest–her nipples hard little points he could feel even through her shirt. Her hips ground against the growing bulge of his dual cocks, making them both throb with sudden, desperate need.
And when that wasn’t enough—when the pressure in his skull and spine still kept building—she had looked around, made a tiny frustrated sound, and then whispered,
“All right–fine. We’re doing this.”
Then she had pushed him gently down until he was leaning against the side of the shed, straddled his lap, and hiked up her skirt.
Brux’s eyes had widened–she was wearing no panties. Her bare, glistening pussy was right there, inches from his face, the sweet scent of her feminine arousal hitting him like a drug.
“Is this what you need?” she murmured, her voice breathless with a mixture of determination and desire. “You need to taste me again?”
Brux had nodded, still unable to talk. Yes, this was what he needed–her honey straight from the source…her sweet little pussy grinding against his face as she moaned and begged and pulled his hair. He needed to part her pussy lips with his tongue and taste her–to give her pretty little clit a tongue—bath while she panted for him.
“Good–then I’m going to give it to you,” Kiera told him. “Going to let you taste me until you remember who you are.”
She guided his face where she wanted it, pressing her hot wet pussy against his mouth and Brux had nearly lost his mind—but not to the void.
To her.
His tongue plunged into her slit without hesitation, thick and hungry, fucking deep into her tight heat. She was drenched…her juices coating his lips…his chin…dripping down his throat. He growled against her clit, sucking the swollen bud between his lips, making her gasp and grind against him harder.
“God, yes,” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair and holding him exactly where she needed him. “Taste how wet you make me… how much I need your mouth on me…your tongue in me…”
Her hot dirty words and the sweet taste of her…the feel of her soft pussy grinding against his mouth was almost more than Brux could take. Both his shafts stood up against his belly, aching for relief but all he wanted was more of her–more of her sweet honey and the feeling of her pulling his hair and bucking against his tongue.
He devoured her like a starving beast–lapping at her folds, then circling her entrance before thrusting back inside and curling his tongue to stroke the sweet spot that made her gorgeous, thick thighs tremble. He spread his fingers wide and gripped her ass, loving how her soft flesh filled his palms. Then he spread her wider, pulling her down onto his face until he was drowning in her sweetness.
He loved her flavor and her scent but almost as good were the little gasping sounds she made when he sucked her clit just right.
“Oh God, right there…right there!” she moaned, grinding against him. “Don’t stop–you’re going to make me come!”
The pleasure he got from eating her–from tasting her honey right from the source–often made him come even if he wasn’t touching himself. But pleasure wasn’t the only benefit he got because somehow, it worked.
Every single time he tasted her and gave himself over to the urgent sweetness of making her come, the darkness receded, and reason returned. The dulling of his thoughts eased, and he could think clearly again. And the most obvious symptom–the gold in his eyes would slowly ebb and the blue come back.
After the third or fourth time, Kiera stopped pretending it was only some kind of emergency medical procedure and seemed to simply accept it for what it was—something intensely intimate between them which was necessary to hold him to his humanoid form.
And it was something that bound them closer together with every passing day.
