Visiting Honey at night

I stayed outside for a long time, leaning against the brick wall of the alley, letting the cool Pacific breeze dry the sweat on my skin. I watched the steam rise from the vents of the café, listening to the city settle into its nightly rhythm.

When I finally cooled down and went back inside, the energy had shifted. The adrenaline crash had finally hit the team. The lights in the café were dimmed to a low, amber glow. Aunt Cass had retired to her room downstairs, likely collapsing into a coma of exhaustion and satisfaction the moment her head hit the pillow.

I walked silently up the wooden steps to the living area above the shop. The room was bathed in the soft, blue glow of the city lights filtering through the large bay window. It was quiet, save for the symphony of heavy breathing. The heroes had fallen where they stood.

Hiro was curled up on the sofa, using Baymax’s soft, vinyl stomach as a premium pillow. Fred was sprawled in a sleeping bag near the TV, snoring with his mouth open, mumbling something about kaiju. Wasabi was meticulously tucked into a neat bedroll in the corner, his glasses folded perfectly on a stack of books.

And Go Go... she was sleeping on a pile of cushions near the window, her leather jacket pulled over her like a blanket, her face relaxed for the first time since I’d met her. She was out cold, exhausted from the rooftop session.

But my target was the one in the center of the room.

Honey Lemon.

She was sleeping on a makeshift mattress on the floor. She had changed out of her armor and into one of Cass’s oversized vintage t-shirts. It was pink and soft, barely covering her thighs. She was sleeping on her stomach, her long, slender limbs sprawled out like a starfish, her blonde hair fanned across the pillow in a golden halo. Her glasses were folded neatly on the floor beside her head.

I crept closer. I moved like a shadow, my boots making no sound on the hardwood floor. I stopped right beside her mattress. I could hear the soft, even rhythm of her breathing. She smelled of citrus shampoo and the faint, lingering chemical scent of her lab.

I knelt down.

I didn't wake her with a touch. I wanted to wake her with a sensation, a shock to the system.

Slowly, carefully, I lifted the hem of the pink t-shirt.

I pushed it up past her waist, bunching the fabric around her ribs.

She shifted slightly in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible, but didn't wake.

She was wearing simple, frilly yellow panties that matched her personality, bright, cute, and optimistic. They covered a perfect, heart-shaped ass that was much softer and rounder than Go Go’s athletic build.

I gripped the waistband of the yellow lace.

I pulled them down.

I slid them over her hips, down her long thighs, until they were tangled around her ankles.

Honey Lemon sighed, a small, sleepy sound, and wiggled her bottom, settling deeper into the mattress, completely unaware she was exposed. Her ass was pale in the moonlight, soft and inviting.

I leaned down.

I spread her cheeks with my thumbs.

Her anus was a tight, pink rosette, utterly untouched.

I lowered my face.

I licked it.

Honey Lemon gasped, a sharp, intake of breath that sounded like a seal breaking.

Her whole body stiffened instantly. Her eyes flew open, wide and unseeing for a split second as her brain tried to process the sensory input. The wet heat of my tongue against her most taboo spot sent a jolt of electricity straight to her spine.

I didn't stop. I swirled my tongue around the rim, pressing firmly against the sensitive ring of muscle.

"Mmph!"

She started to scramble up, panic flooding her system.

"Shh," I whispered, my hand slamming down onto the small of her back, pinning her belly to the mattress.

She froze. She turned her head, squinting in the darkness without her glasses. When she saw me, the dark silhouette looming over her, the familiar scent of the Alpha, her panic transmuted into something sharper.

"Ray?" she whispered, her voice trembling, barely audible over Fred’s snoring. "What... what are you doing?"

"Finishing what we started in the hallway," I murmured, leaning down to nip at her earlobe. "You were sleeping so peacefully. I wanted to see if I could spike your heart rate."

"Here?" Her eyes darted around the room. She saw Wasabi’s sleeping form just six feet away. She saw Hiro on the couch. "Ray! The others! They're right there!"

She tried to push herself up, her long legs tangling in the sheets. "We... we have to go somewhere else! The bathroom! The roof!"

"No," I growled, pressing my weight down on her hips, forcing her back into the mattress. "Right here. In your bed."

"But... the variables!" she hissed, tears of anxiety pricking her eyes. "If Wasabi wakes up... if Go Go sees..."

"Then be quiet."

I moved my hand down between her legs. She was already soaking wet, her body reacting to my presence even while her mind raced with fear. I rubbed her clit, hard and fast.

Honey bit her pillow to stifle a moan. She looked at me over her shoulder, her expression a mix of terror and overwhelming need. The danger was spiking her dopamine levels through the roof.

I unzipped.

I didn't give her time to calculate the odds.

I positioned myself behind her. I grabbed her hips, lifting them slightly off the mattress so she was arched, presenting herself to me.

"Please," she begged, a whisper lost in the fabric of the pillow. "It's too risky! It's statistically reckless!"

"That's why you like it."

I lined up.

I pushed into her pussy.

She was tall, tight, and slick. I slid in slowly, filling her completely.

Honey Lemon’s eyes rolled back. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sheets. The feeling of being impaled while lying next to her sleeping friends was breaking her brain. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't.

I began to move.

I kept it low and heavy. I ground my hips against her backside, the slap of skin against skin muffled by the t-shirt. I fucked her with a slow, devastating rhythm, hitting her deep, rubbing against her G-spot with every thrust.

"Oh god," she whimpered into the pillow. "Oh god, Ray..."

"Look at them," I whispered, leaning down so my chest was pressed against her back, my mouth right at her ear. I grabbed her chin and **** her to look toward the room.

"Look at Wasabi. Look at Fred."

She stared at her sleeping friends through the darkness, her vision blurry, her body being ravaged from behind.

"They're sleeping. And you're getting filled."

"It's... unethical," she sobbed softly, her hips bucking back to meet me despite herself.

"It's biological."

I reached under her body and cupped her breasts through the t-shirt, squeezing the soft flesh.

I picked up the pace.

The mattress creaked.

Squeak. Squeak.

Honey froze. She looked at Wasabi. He stirred, grunting in his sleep, turning over.

She clamped her hand over her own mouth, terrified.

I didn't stop. I used her fear. I thrust harder, deeper, punishing her for the noise.

"Don't let him hear you," I dared her. "Takes a lot of control, Honey. Do you have it?"

She was shaking violently now. The combination of the taboo, the risk of exposure, and the sheer physical pleasure was too much. She was unravelling.

I flipped her over.

"Ray!" she mouthed, panic flaring as she faced me. "They'll see!"

"Open your legs."

She obeyed. She wrapped her long, slender legs around my waist, locking her ankles. I drove into her in the missionary position, my hands pinning her wrists to the pillow by her head. I looked down at her flushed face, her parted lips, her eyes begging for release.

I went deep. I ground into her, watching her face contort in silent ecstasy.

She was mouthing my name over and over. Ray. Ray. Ray.

I felt her tighten. Her long legs squeezed around me. She was close.

I leaned down and kissed her, swallowing her moan as she climaxed. She shuddered beneath me, her body arching off the mattress, her interior muscles pulsing around my cock.

I let go.

I drove deep one last time and fired.

I filled the scientist with a thick, heavy load, flooding her womb right there in the middle of the living room. She gasped into her palm, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth spread through her belly.

I held her there for a long moment, listening to the silence of the room return. Wasabi was snoring again. Fred muttered something about nachos.

We were safe.

I pulled out slowly.

Honey Lemon lay there, breathless, her t-shirt rucked up, her legs splayed open, a mess of fluids leaking onto the sheets. She looked thoroughly corrupted.

She reached out, fumbling for her glasses. She put them on, blinking up at me, seeing the predator clearly now.

"You're crazy," she whispered, a smile touching her lips. "That was... the most significant outlier event of my life."

"Go back to sleep, Honey," I said, standing up and adjusting my clothes. "We have a big day tomorrow."

I left her there, sticky and satisfied, curling up around the secret I had left inside her. I walked to the window and looked out at the city.

Three targets. Three conquests.

San Fransokyo was ready for the finale.