They give in

Sarah’s grip on the pistol faltered.

Her body shook with effort, her thighs clenching uselessly against the throbbing emptiness inside her. Every heartbeat pumped molten need through her veins, every breath filled her lungs with the sickly-sweet scent of Devlin’s arousal — rich, heady, inescapable.

Devlin took a slow step closer.

She didn’t stop him.

His eyes were wild, glassy, lost — but beneath the desperation there was a raw, broken plea.

Touch me. End this.

Sarah’s pistol slipped from her fingers, clattering forgotten to the deck.

She didn’t remember moving.

One second she was standing frozen in terror — the next she collided with him, mouths crashing together in a violent, sloppy kiss, teeth clashing, tongues wrestling. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t comfort. It was survival. It was two dying animals clawing at each other for the illusion of life.

Devlin’s hands tore at her jumpsuit, yanking the zipper down with frantic clumsy fingers, baring her flushed, sweat-slicked skin. Sarah shoved his jumpsuit off his shoulders, dragging it down until his cock sprang free — heavy, pulsing, so achingly hard it looked painful.

Their bodies slammed together, skin against skin, heat against heat.

Sarah gasped against his mouth as his hands found her breasts, kneading them roughly, pinching her sensitive nipples until she cried out — not in pain, but in maddening, **** pleasure. The ache between her thighs had become unbearable, a raw, pulsing wound that needed him to fill it.

Devlin lifted her easily, pushing her back against the cold bulkhead, his hips grinding against her soaking sex.

"Please," he gasped against her throat. "Please, Sarah—"

She didn’t wait.

She reached between them, grabbing his cock in a slick, shaking fist, guiding him to her entrance.

One brutal thrust — and he was inside her.

Sarah screamed — a raw, broken sound — as her body clamped around him, the stretch, the fullness sending shockwaves through her entire being. Devlin groaned, head falling against her shoulder, his arms shaking with the effort to hold her up.

They moved in a brutal, punishing rhythm, the medbay echoing with the obscene slap of flesh against flesh, their panting, gasping cries merging into a chorus of **** need.

Every thrust ground Devlin deeper inside her, scraping nerve endings raw, setting off chain reactions of pleasure that only stoked the fire higher.

Sarah clawed at his back, leaving deep, bloody trails, grinding herself down onto him with animal need, chasing an orgasm that hovered just out of reach — tantalizing, mocking.

Devlin grabbed her ass, pulling her tighter, his thrusts growing ragged, frantic.

"I can't—I can't hold—" he choked out, but Sarah silenced him with a savage kiss, her tongue invading his mouth with brutal dominance.

"Cum," she growled against his lips. "Cum inside me."

It wasn't a request.

It was a command.

Devlin cried out, slamming into her one final time — and then he was spilling inside her, thick, hot, endless, his body convulsing with violent spasms. Sarah threw her head back, moaning shamelessly, feeling the heat of him flood her, deep and claiming.

But the parasite wasn't done.

The moment he came, Sarah’s body betrayed her again — her muscles locked tight, her back arching painfully as a second wave of transformation ripped through her.

She screamed — but it wasn’t pain.

It was pleasure so intense it annihilated thought, melting her mind into white, endless ecstasy.

Beneath her skin, something moved.

Tendrils, thin and sinuous, sprouted along her spine, writhing like a second set of limbs. Her fingers dug into Devlin’s shoulders, fusing for a brief, horrifying moment — flesh to flesh — before snapping back.

Devlin slumped against her, dazed, panting, utterly spent — but already, Sarah could feel the changes blooming inside him too.

The parasite had what it wanted now.

A perfect, willing breeding pair.

Their orgasms had only been the beginning.

And deep in the walls of the ship, something vast and patient awoke.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hungering.