The slide of his skin is overly hot against yours and it makes you almost wish that you weren't a seadweller. Almost. If you're being entirely honest with yourself the way his touch burns against your hips, searing the frigid grey of your skin as you shiver against the table, you love this. Love how even when you're flushed and needy and begging his body is just that much hotter. He's told you before that it's due to his mutation. That the cherry red blood in his veins makes his core temperature far higher than any other troll's.
But you don't care about that.
What you care about is how he rolls his hips and how his bulge coils tightly and sporadically inside of your oversensitive nook. Neither of you have actually come yet. Not today. But that just means the the material building inside of you will probably be even colder than usual.
And his will be even hotter.
That thought makes you whimper and trill. You can't help but to crave more of the heat from his fingertips and even his lips. His lips are occupied by the soft whines he lets out and the little soft kisses to your neck that he can manage without snagging his teeth on your gills. In this position you know that he could hurt you if he wanted. You have a strong hope that he never wants to. Especially since you're just putty in his hands like this.
One of his searing hands reaches around to your bulge and the sound you let out is more growl than purr. Soon the growling is replaced by the little chirps and churrs you thought only wrigglers let out when they were being bothered. It turns out that trolls being fucked properly let them out too.
You wish that you could see his face while he does this to you. Wish that you could see the way he looks when his body is wracked with pleasure. When he's fucking you properly and making you feeling like your body can't handle anything more.
Though when you come, he isn't far behind. You let out a keen feeling his practically scalding material in your nook and are left whimpering as his bulge slides out of you. You hear him tsk at the mess the two you you have more than likely made, but you can't bring yourself to look around at anything. Your nook is throbbing with pain and pleasure from his heat and you know that you won't be able to do this again until it cools properly.
You've never been more glad that you heal so quickly.
As you straighten yourself up, being careful not to step in slurry as you go, he tells you that you should probably go. That it would be best if no one saw that you were even here.
And you listen to him. After all you love his heat and his body and his noises. But most of all you love him.
You leave without a word or a kiss goodbye. You leave with marks from being fucked by someone literally hotter than you. But most of all you leave with the marks and burns on your skin that tells you one thing. You are his.