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The apartment was dimly lit, warm with the scent of metal, sweat, and something sweeter—something you couldn’t quite place, but always noticed when Sevika was close. It was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the overhead fan and the shuffle of your boots as you slipped inside, tugging your jacket off after a long day.
You didn’t even get the chance to throw it over the back of the couch before a low voice cut through the room.
“Finally,” Sevika murmured from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, shoulder resting against the frame. She looked like sin itself—tank top clinging to her chest, ink on display, eyes narrowed in the way that always made your stomach twist and flutter. “Thought you were gonna make me wait all night.”
You gave her a tired smile, kicking your boots off. “Some of us don’t get to play card games and threaten people for a living.”
“And yet,” Sevika said, pushing off the frame and walking toward you, “you still come home smelling like trouble.”
You opened your mouth to fire back, but she was already crowding into your space, metal hand braced on the wall beside your head. You met her gaze, defiant but soft, eyes betraying how much you’d missed her touch.
“Hard day?” she murmured.
You nodded slowly.
“Then let me take care of you.”
Her voice was low, almost a growl, and you felt it in your spine more than your ears. She didn’t wait for a verbal answer—your body told her everything. The way you leaned into her, exhaled as her fingers traced your jaw, tilted your chin up just enough.
“C’mon,” she whispered, tugging you gently by the wrist, leading you to the bedroom.
The door clicked shut behind you, but it may as well have slammed—your heart was already racing. Sevika moved slowly, deliberately, like she had all the time in the world to drag the edge of her thumb across your bottom lip and watch your eyelids flutter.
You stood there, still clothed, still composed, until she dipped her head to your neck and you broke. Her lips brushed your pulse point, and her voice came low, ragged.
“You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” she murmured. “About the way you sound when I get you shaking under me?”
You clenched your thighs instinctively.
“I bet you’ve been thinking about it too.”
You didn’t answer, didn’t need to—the way your breath caught was enough.
“Strip for me,” she said, stepping back just a little, but still watching you like a predator. “Nice and slow.”
You hesitated for only a moment—then your hands moved to the hem of your shirt. You peeled it off inch by inch, never breaking eye contact. Sevika’s jaw tensed. She watched your fingers undo your pants next, sliding them down over your hips, revealing skin that made her exhale like it physically hurt to look at you.
By the time you stood there in nothing but your underwear, Sevika’s patience had frayed to threads.
“On the bed. Face up.”
You obeyed, heart hammering. You trusted her—knew that whatever she did, it would be too much in all the ways you craved. You lay back against the cool sheets, legs together, watching as she reached into the drawer and pulled out the strap.
The sight of her adjusting it, slow and deliberate, never taking her eyes off you—it made heat coil in your belly.
“You look good like this,” she murmured as she crawled onto the bed, knees bracketing your hips. “Soft. Ready.”
Her hand slid up your stomach, between your breasts, until she was cupping your jaw again. Her thumb brushed your bottom lip.
“You’re gonna take everything I give you, yeah?” she asked, voice rough. “You’re strong. You can handle it.”
You nodded, whispering, “Yes, Sev.”
She rewarded you with a kiss—not sweet, not soft, but deep and possessive, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You moaned into it, and she smiled against your mouth.
“That’s my girl.”
Her hand drifted between your legs, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear.
“Already wet?” she murmured. “Barely even touched you.”
You squirmed under her touch, and she chuckled low in her throat, tugging your underwear down and off in one smooth motion.
Then her fingers were on you—slow at first, slicking through your folds, just barely brushing your clit, never quite giving you what you needed.
“Sensitive already,” she whispered. “Poor thing. Bet you’ve been aching all day.”
She dipped a single finger in—you gasped, hips jerking—then pulled it out just to circle your clit again.
“Mm-mm,” she said with a smirk, watching you squirm. “No rushing. I’m gonna make you beg for it.”
And she did.
For long minutes she worked you open with her fingers—one, then two—curling them just right, pressing into that spot that made you arch off the bed. Her thumb teased your clit until you were panting, pleading.
“Please, Sev…”
“Please what?”
“Please… I want you…”
“You’ve got me,” she growled, leaning in close, dragging her strap up your soaked entrance. “All of me.”
She pushed in slowly—too slowly. You moaned, half from the stretch, half from how damn careful she was being. Like she wanted you to feel every inch.
“You take me so well,” she whispered against your throat, “so fuckin’ good like this. Like you were made for it.”
You wrapped your arms around her, nails digging into her back, breath caught as she bottomed out.
And then she started to move.
It was all heat and friction and the sharp, wet sound of skin against skin. Sevika thrust deep and slow, hips grinding against you in a rhythm that made you see stars. Her fingers found your clit again, rubbing just right, her mouth on your neck whispering praise and filth in equal measure.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” she murmured, voice wrecked. “So tight around me, takin’ me like a good girl. Mine. All fuckin’ mine.”
You cried out, body tensing, everything building fast and sharp.
“I—Sev—”
“Let go,” she growled. “Come for me.”
You did—body locking up, back arching, mouth open in a soundless cry as you came hard, trembling beneath her. You barely had time to breathe before she was thrusting again.
“Mm-mm,” she said, grinning. “Not done.”
You gasped, hands gripping her arms, body still shaking.
“Too much—”
“You can take it,” she said, pinning your wrists above your head. “Be good for me.”
Her pace quickened, merciless and deep. You sobbed out her name, eyes wet, every nerve alight.
It was overwhelming. It was perfect.
She kissed you through your next orgasm—rough and deep, like she was devouring the sound of your pleasure. And when you came again, clenching around her with a broken cry, she held you through it, whispering praises.
“That’s it,” she murmured. “That’s my good girl.”
You were wrecked, trembling, sweat-slicked and breathless—but Sevika wasn’t done.
You were trembling in her arms—limp, slick with sweat, eyes glassy from the high she’d just pulled you through. You could still feel her strap inside you, deep and unmoving, your thighs twitching every few seconds with aftershocks.
But Sevika wasn’t moving off you.
She was looking at you like a predator who hadn’t finished eating.
“Still with me?” she murmured, her voice thick with hunger and restraint.
You managed a weak nod, lips parted around a breathless whimper. She brushed your hair back, metal fingers cool on your skin, and dipped to kiss the corner of your mouth.
“Good,” she said softly. Then, in a rougher growl against your throat: “Because I’m not fuckin’ done.”
Your heart stuttered.
“Sev,” you breathed, already squirming, your body hypersensitive and twitchy beneath her weight.
Her lips brushed your ear. “Thought you wanted me to take care of you.”
“I-I do, I—” you gasped as her hips rolled forward just enough to nudge deeper. Your legs trembled. “Sevika…”
“You’re strong,” she whispered, voice molten. “You can take it. You always do.”
You keened softly as her hand slid down your stomach, fingertips brushing your clit—just barely—and the contact was like lightning. You bucked without meaning to, hips jerking, breath caught in your throat.
“Ohh, f-fuck—!”
“There it is,” Sevika breathed. “Still sensitive. Perfect.”
Her fingers didn’t give you a break. She rubbed light, slow circles—maddening, precise—as she began to thrust again. Shallow at first, cruelly controlled. Your legs kicked uselessly against the bed as your whole body jolted from the overstimulated drag of her strap.
“Can’t—” you whimpered, “Sev, I c-can’t—”
“You will,” she said lowly, leaning down, nose brushing yours. “You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll come again. Just like the good girl you are.”
She kissed you hard—all teeth and tongue—and you cried into her mouth as she started fucking you properly again. Your hands clawed at her shoulders, your nails digging into her back, but she didn’t stop. Her thrusts were slow but brutal, her fingers on your clit unrelenting.
“I can feel you,” she growled, voice thick. “Clenching around me already. You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”
You nodded, tears slipping free from the corners of your eyes as your body betrayed you.
“Good,” she whispered, her forehead pressed to yours. “Then do it. Come for me again, baby.”
You screamed her name as your orgasm hit—your vision whited out, body seizing under her, muscles locking tight as another wave crashed over you. It felt like drowning and flying at the same time.
Sevika slowed only slightly, her hand shifting to grip your jaw.
“Look at me,” she rasped. “Don’t you fucking dare look away.”
Your glassy eyes met hers, and it almost broke you again—the hunger in them, yes, but also the devotion.
She wasn’t done.
And your body, wrecked as it was, still wanted.
“Too much, Sev,” you sobbed, voice catching. “It’s too much—”
“I know, baby,” she said, still fucking into you with steady, punishing strokes. “That’s why I’m giving it to you.”
You were crying now—tears slipping down your cheeks as you writhed under her. The friction was unbearable, your clit too raw, your walls fluttering around the toy with every overstretched thrust.
But you didn’t tell her to stop.
You didn’t want her to.
“C’mon,” she whispered, kissing your tears away. “You’ve got another one in you. You always do.”
You whined, broken and raw, and her hand drifted between you again.
“No,” you gasped, hips trying to squirm away. “N-not—ahhh—n-not there—!”
She was relentless, rubbing your clit again while pounding into you, and your entire body jerked like it had been shocked.
“That’s it,” Sevika growled. “That’s my fuckin’ girl. Take it. So perfect like this, crying for me, shaking under me.”
You were begging now—words slurred, hardly intelligible—your body barely able to process pleasure anymore.
“Please, Sevika—p-please—fuck, it’s—ah—too—”
“Don’t beg me to stop,” she warned, voice low and tender. “Not when you’re still dripping for me.”
And you were. She knew it. You knew it.
Even like this—overwhelmed, spent, ruined—your body still wanted hers.
Her grip shifted to your throat, just enough pressure to ground you, thumb brushing your jaw as her hips kept moving, steady and sure.
“Be good for me,” she rasped. “Give me one more. Just one more, baby.”
You cried out, trembling, and then it hit you again.
This one wasn’t loud. It was silent—a full-body quake that made you clamp down around her, mouth open in a soundless scream, tears streaking your cheeks as your back arched high off the bed.
Sevika held you through it, kissing your throat, your temple, your lips, murmuring:
“That’s it. That’s my girl. You’re so good for me.”
When you finally collapsed, limp and wrecked beneath her, she calmed inside you. Her hand slid up to stroke your cheek, then tucked damp strands of hair behind your ear.
“You did so fuckin’ good,” she whispered.
You were crying still—soft, quiet tears now—from the overwhelm, the intensity, the love.
She kissed them away.
And finally—finally—Sevika eased out of you.
You whimpered at the emptiness, at the sensitivity, at the way your body ached with too much. But she was gentle now, lowering herself beside you, tugging you into her chest.
Her arms wrapped around you like armor.
She didn’t speak for a long moment. Just held you. Let you shake. Let you breathe.
And then, soft as you’ve ever heard her:
“Still with me, baby?”
You nodded, barely.
She pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“I’ve got you,” she said. “You’re safe.”
You curled tighter into her, burying your face in her neck, and she stroked your back slowly with her real hand, the mechanical one resting protectively on your hip.
“You’re mine,” she murmured.
You could barely speak, but you managed a hoarse whisper.
“Yours.”
“Damn right.”
She held you long after your sobs faded and your breathing evened out—long into the night, her warmth wrapped around you like a promise.
…
You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until the bed dipped beside you, and Sevika’s voice broke through the haze.
“Hey,” she murmured, brushing damp hair from your face. “Still with me, sweetheart?”
Your body twitched at the sound of her voice, but you couldn’t do much more than hum. Everything ached—not painfully, just… hollowed out. Spent. She’d wrung you dry.
“Yeah,” you rasped, barely above a whisper. “Still here.”
“Good.” Her lips brushed your forehead. “You did so fuckin’ good.”
She lingered like that for a moment—pressed close, wrapped around you—before pulling back. You whimpered quietly at the absence, but she kissed the corner of your mouth.
“Easy,” she said. “Gonna clean you up, yeah?”
You nodded, barely, too wrecked to speak.
She moved with more care than you’d expect from someone with her build, her strength. Warm cloth. Gentle strokes between your legs, where you were still sensitive and messy and twitching. She muttered quiet apologies when your hips jumped, and kept at it with slow, practiced hands.
“That okay?” she asked.
“Y-Yeah,” you breathed. “Just… sensitive.”
“I know, baby,” she said, softer than you’d ever heard her. “I got you.”
She tossed the cloth aside, pulled on her tank again, then helped you into one of her oversized shirts. You barely lifted your arms, and she didn’t mind. Just slipped it over your head and smoothed it down, her big hands warm against your thighs.
Then she climbed back into bed and pulled you against her chest again, wrapping you in her arms like it was instinct.
You buried your face into her neck, letting her scent settle over you—smoke and steel and something faintly sweet that was always just her. Her metal hand curled protectively over your hip; her real one rubbed lazy circles into your back.
“Breathe with me,” she murmured. “Nice and slow.”
You did. In and out. Her rhythm. Her warmth.
“You okay?” she asked after a few minutes.
You nodded. “Better now.”
She kissed the top of your head. “Next time, we’ll go slower. I got carried away.”
You smiled faintly. “Didn’t mind.”
She chuckled, low in her chest. “I know you didn’t. But still.”
Another long silence—not heavy, just quiet. Safe.
Then she whispered, so soft it barely reached your ears:
“I love you, y’know.”
You didn’t answer right away—just hugged her tighter.
“I know,” you whispered. “I love you too.”
She held you through the night.
…