A Minor Inconvenience
"Who are we fooling, Allura?" He moves in closer and tips her chin up with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her raging blue eyes to his. "The attraction is undeniable. I see the way your eyes devour me and I'm sure you're aware of my eyes on you." She refuses to allow his words to affect her deeply, if at all. "Frankly, it is quite bothersome." His eyebrows arch downward to punctuate his genuine annoyance. She agrees in her thoughts. It is extremely inconvenient and extremely distracting; but she can't tell him that. He'd gloat and be even more insufferable than he is now. She jerks her chin away from his grasp. "I don't know what you are referring to."
He sighs and clicks his tongue. Stepping forward again, he finally corners her against the wall. Allura can no longer ignore his towering stature or the growing heat between her legs, as he rests his arm above her head, leaning over her. She groans inwardly, berating her treacherous body for responding in such a way. His gaze sharpens, blue eyes trained solely on her pink pout. "You really intend to tease me, don't you?" His voice drops to a low growl that causes her core to pulse.
"It's what you deserve," she sneers, words bitter and hot. She watches his chest rise and fall and his cold, calculating stare flicker like a candle. "Fine," he states, pushing from the wall and turning away from her. He walks toward the door, more frustrated than when he came. "Coward," she spits at his retreating back. He pauses, hand hovering over the keypad beside the door. She waits against the wall, heart pounding a nervous rhythm. He shoots a dangerous look, eyes half lidded and lips pursed, over his shoulder and she taunts him by raising her nose to the ceiling, exposing her throat. The sudden urge to drag his teeth across her skin and make her scream his name until she begs for mercy surges through his body.
In one swift motion, Lotor locks the door and is in front of Allura again with his thumb caressing her bottom lip. His own lips, cocked upward in that familiar arrogant smirk, are mere inches from hers. "No, you have it wrong. It is you who is the coward." He drags his other thumb across her Altean marks and then up to the tie that's securing her hair in a practical bun. Ripping it out, her ivory hair falls in messy, untamed waves over her shoulders. "The idea of desiring me, the son of the enemy you swore to defeat, goes against everything you thought you knew. What would the paladins think?" Pure cynicism drips from his teeth. He tucks her white tresses behind her ear and kisses her temple, briefly swiping his tongue across the skin.
Allura gasps to allow some of the pressure building within her to release. Her mind descends into a lavender haze: thick, sweet, arousing. Her focus wanders away from his words to his touch, his agonizing touch. She wishes he would stop playing games and get down to it. He sucks on her throat with unbridled aggression, possessively marking her body as his own. A sharp suckling sound mingles with the reluctant sound of her moans. He stops abruptly and rises to meet her embarrassed gaze. Allura struggles to catch her breath, licks her lips, and blows a stray strand out of her flushed face. "So you don't deny it?" he teases. She rolls her eyes and seizes his collar, donning a glare of her own. "Stop talking and do what you came here to do."
He obliges without another word. They step away for a moment to rip their uniforms and inhibitions off, tossing them recklessly across the room. Soon they are attacking each other like heated animals, given away fully to their most primal desires. He lifts her up and she wraps her long, lean legs around his slim waist. He rolls her nipple through his teeth and sucks the mound of flesh with an audible pop, while she scrapes her nails across his back and through his long alabaster hair. They end up on the bed with Lotor's face between Allura's legs. He wastes no time lapping up her sweet juices and reveling in the way her hips buck, begging for more. While he continues his ministrations, he kneads her breast with one hand and fingers her clit with another. All of her nerves electrify her skin, as she climbs higher and higher toward release.
There were many nights she woke up drenched in sweat and other fluids from dreams of this very moment. Dreams of his smooth, husky voice revealing her secret desires. Dreams of what his lean physique looks like beneath the heavy armor. Dreams of what his long, sharp fingers would feel like inside of her. Shame was her immediate bedfellow until she acknowledged the heat-pulsing vibrations in her core that her own fingers just couldn't ignore. Sometimes these dreams would sneak into her idle thoughts during the day when they were researching in Honerva's lab and she pictured herself spread across the desk with him devouring her in all his refined elegance. An elegance that irritated her as much as it turned her on.
She shoves him off of her and onto his back. He snickers at her aggression, yet indulges her all the same. If she wants to be in control, then he has no issue letting her think she is. She mounts him and begins grinding on his thick tool, shamelessly using his body for her pleasure like a starving minx. He thrusts up as she drops her hips down. The new sensation causes her to scream, as the orgasm rocks her body from head to toe. She falls forward against his chest, breathing hard and fast, but Lotor has no intention of letting her rest.
He shifts her off onto her stomach, then pulls her hips to the ceiling. "Wait–" Before she can stop him, he dives into her wet depths. She bites the pillow to muffle her moan. Pleasure replaces the pain quickly and she's soon rocking toward another orgasmic eruption. Despite what she thought possible, he speeds up and hits her deep enough to cause her body to tense. Her fingers grip the sheets. Her toes curl. She screams his name. This pushes him over the edge; he intensifies his onslaught until everything is a blazing blur and they're both reeling, riding the waves of ecstasy until they crash. He pulls out and collapses beside her. Their heavy breathing and battered bodies give away their reckless behavior. They both stare a the ceiling in hopes that it was all a dream, a messy, satisfying, pleasure-filled dream. But it isn't a dream and the heady scent of raw sex permeates the air and shatters the fantasy.
Lotor wants to examine his handiwork. He wants to see the princess wild and undone, bruises on her collarbone and stomach, body glistening with sweat and their mixed fluids. He had wanted to ravage her for a while now, to break down her righteous, indignant posture and break her back instead. Her denial did nothing but goad him on. A beautiful conquest, indeed. The bed shifts, signaling her rise from it. She silently walks to the bathroom and he watches with hungry eyes as her naked hips sashay shakily away from him. He wanted her. He'd had her. And now he wants her again. He couldn't explain the odd feeling that burned in his chest, nor did he care to. He desired her body. Simple as that.