Disclaimer: I own nothing of Strange Magic. All belongs to George Lucas and the affiliated parties.

I only claim the storyline and OCs.

Chapter 17

Marianne took a slow, deep breath. She relished the earthy, spicy scent of the chitin under her cheek. She continued to allow herself to be lulled by the rhythmic up and down motion of Bog's chest, deep and steady with sleep.

After his recounting of his past experiences and subsequent fall into a depressive state at the clearly horrible memories assaulting him, she had done all she could right that moment to provide distraction. It worked to derail his thoughts, but unlike only two days ago, he had been too far-gone. He had clung to her, face buried in her neck, arms wrapped possessively around her as she held him close.

It hurt.

Her chest clenched so much harder than she ever thought it could, seeing him going through so much pain. She was not sure she had ever seen someone suffer so much due to the events of their past. Not even her father, despite how clearly he had been affected by her mother's death. And while she had heard the stories of everything he had gone through before, all he had done, even knowing she had never been told each gory detail, never did she him break down or lose control. Never like this.

He's always had Onyx.

Marianne inhaled deeply as realization washed over her mind, her eyes widening as she stared at the solid wood wall of Bog's chambers.

Her father had always had his closest friend to share his grief with. Their experiences, good, bad and horrible, were shared between them. They were each other's rock.

Bog did not have that. He was alone.

She bit her lip.

Not anymore.

She held him tighter, smashing her face against his chest as a sudden possessiveness took over. A small exhale escaped him, a slight vibration shaking the noise as a small purr of affection rumbled through him even in sleep. She could not help a quirk of her lips as she snuggled closer, her hand trailing over the plain of his chest plate and down, the other pulling securely under the curl of his back. His grip tightened over her shoulder instinctively at the actions and she heard him inhale through his nose, shift closer to her. That's right, she thought. I'm here for you. She continued her incessant snuggling, as if she could somehow portray her sincerity to him while unconscious. She smiled, a slight giggle bubbling up at the thought, bringing her hand up his abdomen as she shook her head against his chest. It was then that her fingers brushed under the "V" of his chest plates, rolling right over that soft spot hidden by the armor.

His breath hitched.

Marianne froze. She remained completely still as she waited for his reaction, only to feel his breathing continue as if nothing happened. She bit her lip as she fought off a smirk. I wonder… She moved her fingers, putting pressure into her touch as she pushed them up under his armor again.

Bog twitched. Or, more accurately, several of his appendages twitched.

His hand at her shoulder spasmed and one of his legs jumped an inch while his chest nudged upward into her touch. This was accompanied by a sharp exhale of breath as she heard his head roll further to the side. She slowly inched her own head up, looking to see his face angled away from her. Her eyes trailed the long line of his neck exposed from under the flexible chitin collar before flicking up to see his eyes still closed, lips parted just so.

That smirk broke her control and spread across her face.

Marianne carefully leaned against him as she slowly pulled her arm from under his back. She bit her lip, concentrating on moving slowly, deliberately, raising up on her arm to lift her leg over him, shifting her weight to balance herself on both knees above him. His hand fell to the bed and he made a small sound, as if wanting for her warmth against him to return. Oh, just you wait, she thought, slipping her hand completely from under his back to place it on the moss padding over his shoulder. She leaned forward, pushing her fingers once again into that sweet spot. She watched with mounting excitement as he twitched again, this time more spiritedly, his whole body spasming with sensation as he let out a shaky sigh. How his eyes were still closed she had no idea.

But she was going to take advantage of it.

She leaned down, watching his face as she pulled her fingers back then pushed inward again, splaying them out to touch as much of that hidden soft spot as possible. She nearly grinned as a soft gasp and feather-light moan left his lips. She tore her eyes from his face, with difficulty, to see his quickening pulse at his neck. With little more hesitation than the blink of an eye, she lowered to her elbow on her supporting arm and nuzzled into his neck, touching her tongue to his skin. He rose upward into her touch, his head tipping backwards, more of his slender neck baring to her contact. She hummed against him and dug her fingers down as she trailed her tongue upwards, following the ever-increasing pulse up to his jaw. He squirmed underneath her, his limbs moving against the moss of the bed. A smile escaped her before she kissed under his jaw dragging her lips slowly across his skin then replacing them with her teeth. Another soft moan rewarded her, and she felt her ire ignite as an idea occurred to her.

Marianne lifted her leg again, aiming carefully as she felt blindly for her target. She took a deep breath, readying herself as she fought her own quickening pulse. She then bit down at Bog's neck, just at the junction of his jaw, pushed her fingers hard against that sensitive spot of his chest, and raked her knee up his thighs – right against the soft skin between his legs.

A thunderous gasp rang out into the air as Bog lurched upward, arching into her. A hand found her shoulder, another her waist and his legs closed tightly against hers. A throaty groan left him as he tensed. "Ma – hah – Marianne," he whispered shakily.

"Good evening," she answered lowly, letting her smile permeate her voice before running her teeth over his jaw.

"Oooh," he breathed. "Marianne, I… I need-"

She stopped his words with her lips as she leaned up further. Kissing him softly but purposefully, she pushed her leg against him again, suddenly aware of the heat emanating from him. He whimpered against her, his clawed fingers tangled into her hair, and his lips moved with their own ardor against hers. She raked her nails along that soft spot again, trying to move her leg at the same time. A growl came to her attention as his teeth caught her lip and the hand at her waist pulled. Now flush to his body, his heat was even more intense, and those claws very carefully catching at her skin and leather, his tongue fighting with hers, was fanning her insides. She gave a growl of her own, tearing herself away to wrench her leg from between his. In the time it took her to push up and straddle him once more, he was up and yanking her knees towards him, sitting her on his lap before wrapping his arms around her to again claim her mouth. She gripped tightly at the back of his neck and shoulder scales, her wings rising in her excitement.

Bog was matching her. Not ducking away, not fighting it, not hesitating. And it felt oh-so-good.

His hand found her thigh, trailing down before sliding up, his claws catching her leggings but not cutting. He removed his lips from hers to nip down her jaw, finding her pulse and biting gently. She let out a shivery moan and bit her lip as she heard his wings rattle, opening her eyes to see a glimpse of that vibration he had shown her earlier. She then gasped as her own wings trembled in response to his hand gripping tight at her thigh and his fingers digging up her spine.

Arching her back into his touch, Marianne dipped her head, wrenching out of the grip of his teeth to do the same to him. She bit down hard against his neck and maneuvered a hand down and around to his back and yanked him to her. His guttural moan as he threw his head back may as well have been a physical touch to her centre and she bit down harder, some instinctive part of her wanting to hear more. She got more than she asked for when his hips rocked up into hers. One hand left her skin to support himself as he leaned back, a purring moan gracing her ears as his legs went rigid. Oh no you don't. She snaked her hand from his back, holding onto the back of his neck with the other, trailing her fingers down between them as she suckled at his pulse.

Then, everything stopped.

His strong grip held her forearm, and he went still, keeping her in place. Marianne released her bite off his neck to look, confusion marring her insides. He tilted his head, but he appeared to be exerting great effort, his silvery skin flushed that beautiful indigo that she was quickly coming to love. When he opened his eyes, she bit her lip, taking in those heavily lidded crystal blues ringing large, dark irises that spoke volumes more than words. No. No, no, you aren't going to stop me. She tilted her head, looking at him with purpose. "Bog-"

"Marianne," he whispered. Oh, how his voice uttering her name with such emotion did things to her. That coupled with those soulful eyes and she was sure she would lose her mind. "Marianne… I can't-"

"Please!" she hissed, cutting him off. She gripped tighter at his neck and pressed her fingers harder into his navel. "Please, Bog." She leaned forward, rubbing her nose down his as she caressed his lips with her own. "I want this. I want you." In any other state of mind, Marianne may have blushed at her own words, at her own boldness. But not here, and not now. She could only speak the truth as she looked into his eyes, seeing his resolve melting for her.

"Show me."

His eyes went wide, and she felt his breath hitch against her lips.

She touched his lips with hers again, nuzzling close before barely glancing his bottom lip with her teeth. "Show me, Bog," she breathed. "Show me what to do."

His eyelids fluttered and she felt him bite his lip against hers. She waited, resolute and sure as he leaned his head forward, touching their foreheads as he closed his eyes, his breathing heavy, his heat stifling. She became aware of a tremble in his touch. A flicker of concern came to light but immediately dispersed as her victory became clear.

His grip on her forearm loosened. And then his fingers slid.

She bit back a grin, her mind giddy as his fingers brushed up over her hand and inched in between hers. His eyes opened and slowly met hers. Marianne could see this was one last push, one last request, one last option to stop. She squeezed his fingers between hers and rocked back on his lap, creating more space in which to move, all while keeping his gaze. He let out a sigh, of defeat or breathless apprehension she could not be sure, and then looked down, rolling his forehead against hers. Marianne looked down as she felt his grip tighten and watched as he inched their hands down.

The heat was intense, as if he were suffering a fever. And his skin, his hide, seemed no different. Though, now with an unimpeded view, she could see how it was raised up and tight, as if something were trying to break free. She watched him angle his hips just so, the lowest of his navel scales rolling up under the other. Then, she saw it – what seemed a button of skin with a tight line going down even further. Strange that she had never noticed before, but then she had never had the access to look so closely. As quickly as curiosity derailed her, Marianne's ardor came back full force as Bog slid their fingers down over that small button of skin.

His breath hitched, his legs jerked under her, and his fingers twitched against hers.

Marianne looked up, seeing Bog biting his lip, his eyes near closed, and his face darkened further with his flush. She looked back down and took a chance, running the tip of her middle finger over that spot again. Again, his body lurched, his wings rattling as his grip tightened. She gripped harder against his neck, feeling the tremble in his body, knowing now that the skin she was touching was him - impossibly soft compared to the rest of his hide, hot, and moist and she wanted to touch more. She nudged her forehead against his, listening as a soft shiver of a sigh left him. He bit his lip again and she had just enough time to look down as he continued moving their hands.

She watched as he pushed into the clefts of his legs with is pinky and thumb and moved her fingers where he directed as he guided them down along that tight line. There was only a moment of hesitance, a second where she heard him swallow his nerves, before he pushed her fingers deep into the heat and pulled up against his skin.

She bit her lip hard as his length sprouted free, blooming like a flower to rise into her hand. He was thicker than she would have expected, for how narrow his pelvis was. And there were ridges she could feel crossing along the bottom that wrapped around to form raised bumps trailing downward along the top. What really caught her eye, though, was the color: A deep purple-blue, just like his blood. As much as she felt she ought to be embarrassed, all she could do was stare. And in the midst of her examination, she moved her hand.

More than anything else so far, realizing that the sheen along this velvety soft skin was actually moisture and that he was wet made her insides clench painfully tight. It was then that she also became aware of a scent in the air, foreign and yet familiar at the same time. It smelt heavenly, making her mouth water and her skin buzz. Her wings shivered as she stretched her fingers, splaying her hand out along the slick softness. Bog's breath hitched, his hand trembling against hers.

"Show me… what to do," she managed, looking up to see his eyes closed, his mouth hanging open, his breath ghosting over her skin.

Bog was quiet, pushing his forehead against hers, his fingers still feathering against her hand. "Just…" he bit his lip, "move… feel."

It seemed words were failing him, but with at least that much she did exactly as he said.

Marianne looked back and slid her hand upward, dragging her fingers along his skin. An insane amount of excitement spiked when his hand shook, hovering away from hers as if he were suddenly afraid to impede her motions. She bit her lip again as she traced the ridges lining the bottom, then glided her fingers up and around, circling the very top. As lost as she was in the sensation of how impossibly soft his tip was, she grinned wickedly when a small noise came from Bog's lips. She ran her fingers over it again, pushing as she traced a circle. His whole body hitched, a throaty whimper leaving him as his hand disappeared to join the other in supporting him. She looked up again to his face, seeing his eyes screwed shut as if afraid to look, the beginnings of a pleasure filled scowl marking his features.

Pure possessiveness made her move and she pulled at his neck, slamming her lips to his. He groaned into her lips as she wrapped her fingers around his girth and pushed down. A gasp opened his mouth against hers when she pulled up and pushed down again, her grip tight. She bit his lip before moving to nibble down his jaw, pumping her hand again. When he let out a breathless yelp, his body tremoring under her, she flared her wings, her own legs trembling as her centre burned. And that smell still toyed with her, filling her nose and leaving her breathless, flooding her mind and taking away thought. Instinct filled the void and she bit down hard on his neck, moving her hand again and again, building a rhythm.

Bog fell to his elbows underneath her, his breathing haggard and choppy, head hanging back. Marianne cherished his neck, licking and biting as deeply under the collar as she could manage, suddenly very aware of the taste of his skin and wanting more. She dimly became aware of his hips rocking into her hand. His small whimpers and sighs filled her ears alongside the sounds of his claws ripping holes into the blanket under them. Lost in the moment, she bit down hard as she squeezed as tightly as she could, pushing her hand down with more strength.

Bog's guttural shout rang out into the room as he bucked against her. His arms wrapped around her, pinning her to him as his clawed fingers twined into her hair. His teeth raked against her neck and hair, his growling pants filling her ear. She panted against him, her body heated and her centre throbbing as she felt his hot, thick essence dripping down her hand. She nuzzled into his neck against the moss of the blanket, curiosity moving her hand to test the substance.

It was her turn to yelp when, quick as a beat, he rose up and pushed back, his hands catching her wrists as he pinned her to the bed under him. He let out a low growl, his eyes, the barest of crystal rings surrounding that dark pupil boring into hers. His teeth bared, his skin flushed deep indigo, his body taut, his grip tight and knowing full well that he was still uncovered over her was almost too much. And the smell! The smell was so much more intense now and it was doing things to her body almost like physical touch.

It's him.

She dared not look away, too entranced in his gaze to even consider it, but her barely functional mind put together that the scent that was addling her brain and body was connected to his essence now coating her hand.

"Oh please…" her own breathy voice sounded foreign and the whimper that tailed it would have been embarrassing in any other situation. "Heavens please… Bog…" She squeezed her legs against his, the wet between them tortuous, and arched her body upward. His reverberating growl was like music to her ears, the feintest hint of a wicked smile catching her eyes as he bent down, raking his teeth up her neck. "Oh yes-"

A loud knocking cut into the room.

"Sire-"

Bog's roar answered the interruption as he looked to the door and dropped over her. He released her wrists to wrap one arm under and pull her to him while he protectively cradled around her head with the other. She clung to him, stunned into speechlessness by both the interruption and Bog's reaction to it. The tiniest squeak of a noise, sounding somewhere between a growl and a purr answered from the other side of the double doors to Bog's chamber. A deep rumble of a growl, a different tone than before, came from Bog's chest in response. Another noise, somewhat like the chirping of a kitten, came back. Then another deep rumble from Bog, but with pronounced clicks interspersed.

Forgetting what they were doing only moments before, Marianne could only listen in awe at the exchange.

She had heard the goblins communicate with animalistic noise before, purrs and chirps and rumbles, but mostly interspersed with speech, usually as some secondary faculty. This was the first time she was hearing these sounds as the only form of communication.

As much as she would have gladly continued listening, Bog finally chose to use words.

"What is it, Thang?" he asked, his tone gravelly and rough with the resounding rumble.

She wanted to ask how he knew it was Thang but refrained as she heard skittering outside the door.

"I-it's the marshes, sire," he answered, voice small.

Her prior mood, her awe, and her mental faculties all smashed to a halt as Bog went rigid above her.

"What's happened?" Bog asked, his voice clearing, making way for concern.

"There's been an attack."

Her insides froze. Bog looked down and she met his gaze. The evidence of their activity was fading with haste. She nodded and rose up to kiss his cheek, still wanting to hold him close but knowing that duty called for both of them.

"Sound the signal," Bog ordered. "Call for everyone at-the-ready."

Thank you for the read. Have a good day or night and a wonderful time~*