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The crystal of her blood flaked as you dragged a wet cloth down her cheek. Smearing and collecting, revealing the purpled bruises and lined rips in her skin.
You had witnessed it this time, seen where the breaks of her skin had come from.
You had watched as she stood foot against some few dirt scum at the heel of the bar, placing herself between the drunk rage and her innocent bartender, how she dropped each fuck to the floor or left them with enough conscious and unbroken bones to flee to the doors like wounded prey.
Sevika had eaten a few blows, but it was nothing new, yet still every time it pained you to watch as more wounds opened across her already scarred skin.
But you knew she was durable, she wouldn’t be who she was, if she was anything but.
Regardless, it always made your lungs cramp, how she would hurt and bleed. Especially in the defense of her workers, yourself included.
There was another issue with watching Sevika fight.
She was unbelievably hot.
It made your folds sop every time. Your clit immediately poking and throbbing at how she moved and strained.
Your legs would pinch, thighs trembling slightly as your hips tilted and craned.
How her body would move, the thick layers of fabric threatening to snap over her muscles. Thick and corded, dense as if iron, and efficient like an engine.
The sliver of her abs, tapered waist flashing and revealing with every contortion and contraction of her chest.
A flash of flesh knuckled for every flicker of bronze ones.
The way her thick thighs nearly tore through her pants with every step and stance.
It all got to your head, or more so your cunt.
Even now as you wiped the blood from the crack in her lips. You had to roll your own bottom lip between your teeth, the feeling of Sevika’s cheek gently pressing into your one hand as the other continued dancing a cloth across her wounds.
Her eyes were closed, brows furrowed in their neutral state, her scowl present, but not as sharp, it never was when you were with her.
You couldn’t stop staring, you couldn’t stop the way your mind turned against her body. Taking down her blunt nose and thick cheeks, down her broken lips and over the edge of her hard jaw.
Past the unmarked skin of her neck and over the soft roll of her broad shoulders. Which even as you were now, standing directly in front of where she sat, her frame still completely swallowed your own.
Her flesh arm hung heavy, thick bicep sinewed into the thick of her forearm, the splay of veins deepening in their trail to her hand which laid idle against your waist. Its leaded weight comfortable over your pants, the huge pad of her palm and splay of her relaxed fingers almost fully grabbing the mantle of the entire side of your waist.
Involuntarily you twitched, core tightening and throat pinching in a weak ditch of an effort to hide the whine that pulled through you.
The swim of blood grew slightly louder in your ears, cheeks heating as her ears twitched and eyes flickered open.
Her unfairly long eyelashes jittered as her eyes drew like an old lightbulb.
Steel grey, consuming and burdened, her pupils fattening as they drank you in.
Your hand had slowed, forgotten motions now waiting for her to move. Apprehensive yet anticipating, and you could feel the thick of her hand flexing into the bone of your waist.
Her fingers were long and thick, pad pinching and kneading. Her touch permeable through your clothing, burning deep into your nerves.
A moan trickled, and you clasped your hand to your mouth out of embarrassment.
Sevika was not satisfied with such a thing.
The floor groaned, the dank chair squeaking as she rose from it. Her swollen joints cracking and the passive whir of her metal arm swaying.
Where she had been at stomach level before, she now had risen, her breasts leveled with your eyes. No cloak, no heavy jackets or leathers, merely her worn pants and boots, and a dainty undershirt that sat too tight against her thick chest.
She was still glistened in dried sweat, hair still partially damp and her skin very much still hot to the touch.
Her hand viced, clamping hard into your hip, practically crippling you as she stepped you backwards. Your feet failing and stumbling, trying to keep up as she marched you.
The concrete of the wall scraped against you, hard and hurtful against your back, but only more fuel to fire beneath your stomach.
She gave you a moment, brief but purposeful, an out if you so needed.
You did not take it, you never needed to.
It was a subtle shake of your trembling head, and a soft breath falling from your lips before she pounced upon you. Devouring your lips, heavy sucks and pulls, pushes and licks. It was a dance of sort, moreso a domination as she overwhelmed you.
Feeling her nose brush against yours, poking into your cheek. Feeling her hand shift from your hip to trail over your stomach. Feeling as her heavy fingers drive beneath the band of your pants.
You had no more breath, no more voice to give, only a dusk of a mewl as she licked into your mouth and cupped over your folds.
She nearly lifted you from the ground, the force of her tugging at your soaked core partially freeing your heels from the ground.
You had to brace yourself, weak hands frantically gripping and pawing, one planting against her flexing bicep and the other against her chest.
You hadn’t meant fist her breast, but a low growl surfaced from her throat and she only palmed harder over your core.
She quickly dropped from the kiss, the break causing you to cry out in loss before moaning as her teeth sank into your neck.
Her hot saliva coating into the grooves that her teeth made against your skin.
She leaned harder against you, adding a leg to support beneath her hand. Her thick thigh worth at least four of your own, driving with raw strength up into you.
The leverage adding to her hand, and her fingers which had begun pressing over the hood and into the your slit.
You continued weakly kneading her breast, thin fingers faintly pinching her nipple, using the layer of cloth to create a hard friction over her nub.
She began leaving licks over every new mark along your neck, painting it in deep blues and reds.
It was all beginning to be too much. She hadn’t even entered you, hadn’t even used a single finger, but merely the presence of her blunt nails dragging over your cunt and stray hairs tickling your face as she bit at your neck.
Your hips started stuttering and tears began to squeeze from your eyes. Your throat dried as you tried to tap against her in warning. You pulled your hands from her arm and breast, limply finding her face and tugging to pull it up.
She obeyed without question and through the wavy vision you met back to her bruised face. Flush and mussed, but no longer with pain and rage, but with devotion and your reflection in her eyes.
She leaned back in, connecting you two once more.
There was no lights, no fireworks or flashes. No electric charge or floating feeling.
It was gripping, a gravity that hugged so tight, a security so strong, grounding and rooting.
Your legs quaked as the dam broke, crying into her mouth as you writhed. Spine arching and toes curling, abs spasming and core tightening.
You gushed and leaked, juices coating over her hand and drenching your clothes.
It lasted, and Sevika rode you through it, wringing it all out of you, squeezing you dry.
The ground slowly came back to your heels, your knees weak but in her grip you knew she would never let you fall.
Your labored huffing slowed, leveling to just heavy breaths. Your eyes drew from haze and found that gravity once more.
Steel eyes searching you, watching to make sure you recovered fully.
She was sappy at heart and a little smirk lifted at her lips, but she pulled another little moan from you as she began drawing her hand from your pants.
“Quite the mess you have made,” your essence shined over her hand as she brought it up, drawing it near her mouth where she began licking it up.
Your blushed and shunned, but couldn’t stop yourself from watching as she started at the her forearms and striped up to her hand where she popped two of her fingers into her mouth.
She continued over each finger before finishing, giving you a sultry look before leaning down and near to your ear.
“We aren’t done here.”