Coming up behind her felt so natural and easy these days. The Doctor wrapped his arms around his far-too-busy partner — the Director of the Medical Department of Rhodes Island — and it's that very same director who sighed as she felt him envelop her so intimately.

"You need something," she told him, not looking away from the clipboard in her hands, "don't you." It wasn't an inquiry, it was more like a matter of fact. She was one hundred percent correct. The Doctor of Rhodes Island did need something from Kal'tsit. Fortunately, she didn't have to pay attention for him to get it.

As if he'd done it countless times before, and with practiced bravado, the Doctor's hand slid around the woman's collarbone, and he held her neck as if he owned it. As if he owned her. Kal'tsit shuddered without really meaning to. Same as it ever was.

"If you well and truly can't keep your hands to yourself," she whispered (and still, she didn't look away from her work), "you ought to know that you've got five minutes at most. Is that something you can come to grips with? Unlike you, I'm actually keen on finishing my assignments. Unlike you, I've…"

She trailed off. As he pressed up against her like this, she could feel how hard he was. His masculinity throbbed against her backside, and she gulped. Another reflex. Suddenly, taking a break didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Ten minutes." She changed her mind. She could be generous when she wanted to be. When she felt it was beneficial to both parties.

The Doctor, still behind his Feline, traced the shape of her lips with his forefinger. As if on instinct, Kal'tsit opened her mouth and welcomed him inside, her eyes closing halfway as the Rhodes Island tactician pressed on the offensive. He played with her tongue like this, relishing the moans and sighs of pleasure that suddenly escaped the workaholic in his arms.

At the same time, he was content to use his opposite hand to play with her ass. To knead it, grope it, and tease that tail that suddenly couldn't stop trembling. Kal'tsit wiggled in his embrace, her entire body shaking as though tremors ran through her willowy frame.

Enjoying the reception, the Doctor decided to take it one step further with his secretive plaything. He pushed two fingers past her lips, pressing her tongue down to the floor of her mouth, and he grinned behind his hood at the noises that she made for him. Kal'tsit rolled her tongue around those probing digits, bathing them in her saliva while the man behind her sampled more of that lusty body of hers.

He pulled her tail with a suddenness that made her drop the clipboard. It clattered loudly to the ground, and Kal'tsit's jaw tensed.

"Idiot," she managed to get out.

He didn't care. He pulled her tail again firmly like it was just a rope or a chain, and Kal'tsit purred desperately as she pushed back against him. Almost daring him.

"You're so vile," she whispered. As she turned to face him, he could see that her face burned bright red with a blush that she saw no point in hiding. Not from him. Not in a position as compromising as this one. "You're vile, and you're insatiable. You can never keep your hands to yourself. What am I supposed to do with you?"

He could think of many things that she could do with him.

And yet…

That glare of hers hid so much behind it. She wanted this too — he knew it well. If he didn't know any better, he could swear that she found more and more ways to show him just how badly she itched for his scratches. Her tail curled up into the shape of a heart.

More tightly now, the Doctor pressed Kal'tsit up against his body. She already knew what to do about it: the woman bunched up the bottom of her medical apron, just in time for the Doctor's hand to slide down and invade her panties.

"Oh," Kal'tsit moaned, "I… Doctor…"

She was soaked. She couldn't hide it. How could she? As the Doctor's fingers writhed beneath the fabric of her underwear, the sounds of wetness followed. Kal'tsit's eyes sealed shut. She bit her lip to suppress the girlish whimper that had been bubbling in her larynx.

The Doctor's free hand came back to Kal'tsit's tail, which wrapped around his wrist as he so greedily took control of the woman's lower half. She couldn't suppress every single moan and whimper that pushed out of her mouth. It hurt so well.

She spoke his name. It sounded like a croak in her throat.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Kal'tsit was at a loss for words.

His name. His name. His name. It was all she could think to say.

As he took control of her like this, it was all she wanted to say.

As he pulled her tail, tousled her hair, fingerfucked her, and treated her like a piece of meat, it was his name that she spoke with such reverence that it was as though she were praying to a God.

Maybe she was. Maybe it was a God who could make her feel like this. The only one who ever could.

His hand — God's hand — left her tail and went back to her throat. He squeezed tightly enough that she could see the stars in the sky, bearing witness to this depravity. All the while, the fingers down there never stopped probing and pumping. Rubbing, grinding, groaning, moaning. As Dr. Kal'tsit quivered and creamed, she didn't make a sound. She couldn't. She drooled from both ends.

Then she started floating. The vertices of the palace of her mind drifted apart and yet curled inward, like a fourth-dimensional object. His object.

And then his hand slithered out of there, and off her neck, and she was left basking in the still space of her afterglow. When she picked her clipboard back up, it was with fingers that she couldn't stop from trembling. Her tail went slack. Her ears bent low with submission.

And yet… the words have already left her mouth.

"I would hope that you're satisfied," she breathed, "but I know you better than that."

And he, too, knew his precious Dr. Kal'tsit. Always wanting, getting, wanting.