Page 33 of Thexan

This wasn’t just happening to him.

It was happening to me.

And if I walked away now, I would be choosing something just as permanent as staying. I would be choosing to let him lose control—to let him die.

I let out a slow breath, the decision settling into place not as something forced, but as something that had been building from the moment I found him at the door.

There was no version of this where I stepped back and pretended it didn’t matter.

Not anymore. I would do it—and live with what it meant afterward. There was no version of this where I walked away unchanged.

But first and foremost, I knew I couldn’t let him die. Finally, I sighed.

“You can’t support your weight,” I said, already moving, already adjusting what needed to be adjusted before he could argue.

“I will maintain control,” he said.

“You’ll maintain it better if you don’t tear yourself open again,” I replied, reinforcing the bandage at his side and guiding him back against the cot. “So, we do this my way.”

I re-bandaged his wound and put a pillow against his side to support him. Then he told me how to remove the rest of his body armor from his lower body. I was surprised to find that his genitals were internal, a reptilian trait.

Then his cock extruded. It was definitely not human. It had a mushroom top and little bumps along the shaft. The decision was made. I started taking off my clothes and laid them on a chair beside the cot.

Turning to face him, I wanted to let him see what he was getting. Golden eyes darkened as they took me in.

“You are beautiful, and you honor me by agreeing to do this.”

As I looked at him, I could hardly believe I was actually aroused. I could do this. I climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips. The reality of it, of my nakedness over his immobilized form, sent a shock of vulnerability and power through me.

“Guide yourself,” he instructed, his voice tight. “I am… ready.”

I reached down, my fingers finding his alien member. It was thick, hot, and oddly textured. I positioned the head pressing against my entrance. My nipples were taut, hard peaks, and my clit throbbed. That I was actually wet was a bonus.

The initial penetration was a stretch, a fullness that made me gasp. He was larger, much larger, and the sensation of being filled so completely, so deeply, by something so other, was overwhelming. I sank until I was fully seated, his entire length buried inside me, including the knot.

“Now,” Thexan groaned.

I began to move.

It was slow at first, a tentative rocking of my hips, finding an effective rhythm of our joined bodies. His golden eyes watched me, intense, hungry. A low groan escaped him, a sound of pure relief as I lifted myself almost all the way out, then sank back down, taking him to the root.

The pace quickened. I worked my thighs to drive myself up and down along his shaft. Each thrust brought a new wave of sensation.

The series of bumps along his cock stimulated my inner walls in a way no human anatomy could, creating a rippling, frictionless pleasure that built and coiled. I could feel his body responding beneath me, his injury not affecting the rigid, throbbing tension of his member, or the way his abdominal muscles clenched with each of my deep, taking strokes.

My breaths became short, sharp pants. I braced my hands on his broad chest, avoiding the wound, feeling the heat of him. My focus narrowed to the point of union, to the incredible, mounting friction. I was riding him, using him for his survival, and I realized with a jolt, for my own burgeoning, desperate pleasure.

“Close,” he warned, his voice strained. “The knot… it will swell at the peak. You must not stop. You must take it.”

I didn’t stop. I drove myself harder, faster, slamming myself down onto him with a force that shook the bed. The pleasure was a cresting wave, a tsunami of physical need. I was doing all the work, and it was exhilarating. My climax hit first, a white-hot point expanding from my core.

I felt the change in him as he flew over the edge with me. The base of his shaft, already thick, began to expand. It grew, swelling rapidly, locking inside me, stretching my opening to an impossible degree just as my own orgasm continued.

I cried out, a raw, unfiltered sound of release. The knot swelled to its full size, an anchoring bulb that lodged deep, tying us together physically as the ecstasy tied us spiritually. I collapsed forward onto him, crushing my bare breasts against his chest, impaled, locked, joined to his body. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as we both shuddered through the aftershocks.

Inside me, the knot held firm. We were stuck, a profound, physical tether.

I could feel the change in him as I laid my cheek against his throat.