The empire strikes back

His other hand didn’t relent, his brown fingertips circling your pink clit with cruel precision. The counter dug into your back as you arched against him, your thighs shaking as pleasure coiled tighter, your own wetness soaking his knuckles.

His hips stuttered, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as his cock pulsed hot in your fist—*almost there*—but then his thumb pressed harder, rubbing rough circles just as his fingers crooked inside you again.

Your hand stills on his cock, fingers trembling as his touch unravels you, his fingers curling deeper until a broken noise tears from your throat. The kiss turns messy, unfocused, your mouth slack against his as pleasure coils white-hot in your gut. You arch into him, nails biting into his shoulder, every nerve alight. His breath is ragged against your cheek.

The air between you was thick with sweat and panting breaths. Your fingers twitch, trying to reclaim their rhythm, but his thumb presses harder—circling, circling—and your grip goes slack, knuckles brushing weakly against his shaft as your hips jerk. A rough groan escapes him, half frustration, half pleasure, as your palm grazes the head of his cock, smearing precum in a clumsy, uneven stroke.

He nips at your lower lip, sucking it between his teeth as his fingers curl *just so* inside you, dragging a shuddering gasp from your throat. You arch, spine taut, the kiss breaking as your head falls back, mouth open and panting.

Your mind races—*he’s too close, too fast*—his fingers relentless, his cock twitching against your palm, leaking hot and slick baby batter. If you don’t act now, you’ll lose. Worse—his hips buck into your grip, his breath ragged against your throat, and the thought slices through you: did you even want to resist if he decided to fuck you.

The change had rewired you, left you dripping and ****, every nerve screaming to be fucked. That damn *bunny brain* of yours—hyper-fertile, dripping, stupid with need—reduces every thought of self-control to static. All instinct and heat. Your cunt clenched around his fingers, greedy and dripping, the animal part of your brain keening at the scent of him— mate, breed, now. Your body betrays you, hips rocking shamelessly against his hand.