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“Before we begin,” Guilliman said, “I have to tell you something.”
“So formal,” Yvraine said, quirking her kiss-reddened lips in a smile. “We’re not in the war-room now, you know.”
She followed up the words with a squeeze of the blonde giant’s ass, making him blush. Teasing the huge Mon’k—human was always fun, especially now she was in his lap with only a few layers of cloth between them. The Eldar Emissary rolled her hips, grinding down against his rapidly-hardening cock.
“I’m serious,” Guilliman said, holding onto her hips to stop the movement.
“You’re always serious—” she began, then stopped. His blue eyes were dark, his brows furrowed; he looked genuinely worried about something. Guilliman had sported that look a lot since his rebirth, but she’d hoped he’d be able to lose it—that they’d both be able to lose it—if only for an hour or two.
There were so many terrors out there in the dark; Daemons and Tyranids, Orks and Necrons, just waiting to rip both of their peoples to shreds. There were more traitorous factions and wildcards than could be counted. There were meetings to hold and battle-plans to make, and a long, bloody journey over the corpses of their foes and friends.
Was it any wonder, then, that they’d fallen into one another’s arms so quickly? Was it any wonder that she’d seen this brilliant, strong, handsome alien, so different from the rest of his crude and boorish kind, and decided to sate her curiosity? Was it any wonder that, after their first adrenaline-fueled kiss, they’d come together again and again, Guilliman taking her apart with attentive lips and clever tongue, even though his life-support armor let him do no more?
But now he was here, free, seated on a bed that could hold ten mortal men. His warm, bare hands were on her, his lips already red and swollen with kisses. He was down to a simple tunic and trousers and she to her skintight bodyglove, but even though she could feel his hard cock between her thighs his face was still twisted in worry.
“What is it?” Yvraine asked, stroking one hand along his cheek. Whatever as weighing on his mind, she clearly had to get it off before they could get each other off.
“I’ve never,” Guilliman swallowed. “I’ve never done this before.”
Yvraine couldn’t help a surprised snort of laughter, but it died when she saw the flash of hurt in those deep, blue eyes. He was serious...but how? He was gorgeous, beloved, revered among his people. They saw him as a demigod, a paragon, the epitome of manhood. Admirers had to have been throwing themselves at him for centuries!
“Really?” The Eldar asked, “but you’re so good with your tongue—”
“My tongue isn’t likely to split a human woman in two.” Guilliman said bluntly.
“Oh,” Yvraine winced. The Primarch was twice the size of most of his kind, and even compared to her own seven feet he was still massive. “Don’t worry, I can take you. I want to take you.”
“I hope so,” he said, giving her a small, almost fragile smile. “I just want you to be aware...I might not be any good at this.”
“You’re a fast learner,” she reassured him, “and I have more than enough experience for both of us.”
The worry seemed to lift from his brow and his smile widened. Perhaps he’d thought she would reject him for his inexperience? The idea was laughable; if anything, the prospect of being his first was even better than being the latest in a long string of lovers.
She smiled up at him and grasped the hem of his tunic. He helped her pull the garment over his head, baring what seemed like miles of warm, glorious skin to her eyes, crisscrossed with the scars of a thousand battles. She leaned in to kiss one which ran from his left pectoral to his right clavicle, licking at the pale, raised mark.
“Assassination attempt,” he explained without prompting. “When I was twenty-five.”
“I’m surprised it stayed,” she murmured against his skin, nibbling at his collarbone. “You heal so fast.”
“I treated it to make sure it stayed,” he said. “A reminder not to be careless.”
Guilliman’s hands slid up her back, unfastening her bodyglove with easy familiarity. He stripped her to the waist, peeling away the tight, black, rune-enforced fabric.
“And this?” He asked, tracing a finger over the scar on her sternum, the one tinged a pale violet. He already knew, of course, but they were trading stories.
“Lelith Hesperax,” she murmured. “In the gladiator pits. One of the wounds that killed me.”
She held up her arm, letting him stroke broad fingers over the other violet scar, the one encircling her wrist where she’d lost a hand. Guilliman leaned down to kiss the skin, then guided her fingers to the one oddly-colored scar on his own body, the one where his treacherous brother had slit his throat.
They had both been killed, both brought back by the grace of Ynnead. It was yet another connection between them, yet another bond they shared that so few others could understand.
They kissed again and again as she guided the Primarch onto his back, shimmied out of her bodyglove and helped him kick off his trousers. He was wearing undershorts that matched his armor, made her grin. She’d worn such garments when living on the Craftworld, but had long since abandoned the practice.
“Hiding from me?” Yvraine asked, cupping his cock through the thin fabric. She couldn’t help licking her lips at the girth she felt under her fingers, straining to be free.
“Just some tactical cover,” Guilliman said, eyes glinting.
“Was that a joke, Lord Commander?” Yvraine asked in delighted surprise.
“Don’t tell anyone,” he said with mock seriousness. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
She cackled out loud, then laughed even harder as he gripped her waist and rolled her over to cover her with his massive frame. The human leaned down, silencing her with a kiss, then moving to lick and suck at one sensitive, pointed ear. He’d learned this particular weakness in their first encounter, and exploited it mercilessly ever since.
Yvraine gasped and moaned, writhing beneath him. She scrabbled at his shoulders, nails leaving crimson marks on his smooth, warm skin. She liked that she could mark him but wished it could be more permanent, that she could add to the network of scars on his body.
Guilliman held her tight, pressing her down with all his warm weight as his tongue flicked at the tip of her ear. He rolled his hips, clothed cock sliding against her inner thigh, the head ghosting over where she longed to have it.
Yvraine reached down, trying to grab the waistband of her lover’s sole remaining garment, but he gripped her wrists and pinned her to the bed. He was far stronger than the rest of his pathetic species, stronger than anyone she’d ever been with. She could perhaps have wriggled away but all she did was strain against his grip, enjoying the sensation of being held down.
“Patience,” the Primarch purred in her ear, before switching his attentions to the other one. Yvraine squeezed her eyes shut, panting and gasping at the sensation.
Patience? She’d heard the word often enough on Biel-Tan, but now (as in her rebellious youth) she chose to ignore it.
Luckily, the Eldar were a flexible people. She arched beneath him, raising her legs to bracket his trim hips, and slid her toes beneath the waistband of his shorts. With one swift movement she dragged the garment down, freeing his cock at last.
“I’ve waited long enough,” Yvraine said. “You’re finally out of that armor, now I want you in me.”
“Well,” Guilliman said, licking his lips as he kicked the shorts away, “if you insist...”
The Primarch leaned back, raising himself above her. He looked slightly nervous again, which she found oddly charming. This man, a master of everything from combat to diplomacy, was anxious over this most basic of acts.
It was time for Yvraine to take the initiative. She twisted her body, catching his knee with her own and sweeping his arm from the mattress, rolling them over so she was once more atop him. She doubted the maneuver would have worked if the Guilliman had fought it, but he went willingly, smiling in seeming relief that she was taking control.
She grinned down at him, running her fingers over his chest, his ribs, his abs. There was a fascinating trail of golden hair that started beneath his navel, leading down and down to a well-trimmed nest around the base of his cock.
Oh sweet Ynnead his cock!
Eldar dicks were built like their owners, long and slender, with a three-ridged, pointed head. Guilliman was longer, which made sense for his size, but the proportional thickness was beyond what she could have expected. Even feeling him through his clothing hadn’t prepared her for the sight of that huge, thick cock, which pressed against her stomach, hot and hard with need.
“Is there a problem?” The Primarch asked, brows furrowing again. “We don’t have to—”
“Yes we do,” Yvraine said, nearly breathless. It would hurt, it would definitely hurt, but she had lived long enough in Commorragh to learn the pleasure of pain. She had been wet before, but now her pussy was dripping with want. She ground against the human’s thigh to emphasize her point, grinning down at him.
“Well,” Guilliman said, smiling back as his cock twitched against her belly. “If you say so.”
“I do,” she said, raising herself up on her knees. She rocked her hips, letting the wet tip slip-slide against her soaking pussy. “Are you ready?”
Guilliman nodded, reaching up to take hold of her slender hips. He swallowed hard, and took his last, deep breath as a virgin.
Yvraine lowered her body slowly, taking his cock into her inch by inch. The blunt head was so thick she gasped, arching back as her thighs trembled. The stretch, the burn...no matter how wet she was, nothing could have prepared her for this. It was glorious.
“A-alright?” Guilliman asked, even as he panted beneath her. His fingers gripped her hips, not pulling her down or up but just holding on, like he needed some kind of anchor.
“More than alright,” she assured him, stroking her palm down his broad chest, “I want...I want to savor this.”
“M-me too,” Guilliman gasped. “You...you feel so tight.”
Yvraine grinned. She hadn’t been called tight in centuries, but she supposed it was true this time. Anyone would be tight around Guilliman—the surprise was that she could take him at all.
She continued to lower herself, taking inch by thick, hot, glorious inch. He hit each of the dozens of pleasure spots inside her all at once, making her pussy clench with desperate pleasure. He kept filling her, deeper than anyone or anything she’d ever taken, until she finally rested on his thighs, panting with the sheer sensation.
Guilliman was just as affected, hands clutching her hips with bruising strength. It seemed to take every ounce of his considerable willpower not to buck up into her, to start fucking her immediately. Of course, she was made of sturdier stuff than mere humans. Even with the Primarch’s massive size she didn’t need to wait, her body already adjusting to the huge cock buried so deep inside her.
Yvraine raised her hips so quickly that they both gasped at the sensation, then dropped them to take him all the way back in. She repeated the movement again and again, fucking herself on the Primarch’s cock. A duet of their moans filled the air as Yvraine leaned forward; even with her Eldar strength and balance she had to brace her hands on the human’s chest to keep from toppling over.
“Yvraine...” Guilliman gasped, squeezing her hips still tighter. He moved his legs, bracing his feet against the mattress, and the next time she slid down he thrust up into her.
A strangled cry escaped her lips as he went even deeper, filled her even more. Two more thrusts like that and she was coming, shaking apart on his glorious cock.
“Is that—” he gasped, slowing his movements. “Should I stop?”
“You should stop being so damn polite,” Yvraine nearly snarled, leaning forward to bite his lower lip. “Fuck me like you mean it!”
Guilliman needed no second urging. He slammed into her body, again and again as the Eldar moaned and wailed. It hurt, it hurt so gloriously that her mind went blank with it, lost in a haze of pain and pleasure.
“More,” she gasped, hands tangled in his blonde hair. “M-more-“
Guilliman growled in response, deep and low in his throat. It was a feral sound, far from his usual regal demeanor, and the next moment he was flipping her into her back. He moved his hands from her hips to her thighs, holding her open as he pounded her senseless.
Yvraine came again and again, her Eldar body far more sensitive than a human’s, and far, far more enduring. No human could have taken the Primarch’s cock like this, but that just made it better; she was giving Guilliman a pleasure none of his own people could hope to match.
He kept fucking her for a long time, far longer than any lover of her own species ever had. The tendons in his neck stood out, his face was flushed and his skin gleamed with sweat. He was holding out for her pleasure, giving her everything he could.
“Yvraine...” he gasped between thrusts, “I’m going to—”
“Yes! Come!” She cried, desperate and yearning. “I-I want to feel it!”
The Primarch let out a loud, thunderous roar, hips jerking forward in fierce, deep thrusts. He lost his rhythm, eyes squeezing shut as he pumped his cum into her; a huge, hot load that made her whole body tingle.
She sighed in pleased satisfaction as he twitched within her, panting as the last few spurts painted her inner walls. She wished, for a strange, fleeting moment, that they were biologically compatible. The thought was absurd, and yet...
He opened his eyes, smiling down at her. One hand came up to cup her cheek, stroking the soft skin and tracing his thumb across her lower lip.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“My pleasure,” she said, wriggling beneath him. She wondered how long it would take before he got hard again, able to take her once more...
Wait, he was still hard.
“Do you want more?” Guilliman asked, correctly interpreting the widening of her eyes.
“Definitely,” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist and squeezing. “How many times can you normally go?”
“Five or six,” the Primarch said, rolling his hips in a delightful way. “Then I need an hour to recover.”
“Sweet Ynnead,” Yvraine groaned, twining her arms around the human’s neck. “I guess we’d better get started.”
They made love again and again, rolling back and forth across the bed. They grappled together, fighting for the prize of dominance and mutual pleasure. Guilliman kept pinning Yvraine and she kept escaping, only to be caught and fucked and filled again.
The fifth time, she was on her side, her back to his broad, muscular chest. One of his hands held both her slender wrists behind her, while the other squeezed around her waist. His massive thighs wrapped around her legs, holding her tight, and he was nibbling at the tip of one pointed ear.
“I win again,” he purred, pressing the head of his cock against her cum-slick pussy. “Time to claim my prize.”
Yvraine groaned in agreement, then pleasure as he filled her up once more. For someone who’d been a virgin that morning, he was definitely getting the hang of things. He moved his hips in sharp, fast strokes, fucking her hard and deep enough to make her see stars.
She twisted against his grip, less trying to escape and more reveling in the feeling of helplessness. This was a masochist’s dream come true, to be used and fucked and filled again and again by the absolute pinnacle of his species.
Guilliman released her waist and rubbed his hand over the bruises on her hip. He chuckled a little at her gasp of pleasure-pain, then moved his fingers down to toy with her twin clits. She moaned decadently, cunt twitching and squeezing around his pounding cock, then whined as he took his hand away.
The Primarch stroked his hand up her toned abs and heaving chest, pausing once more to squeeze and tease her breasts. He added yet more bruises there, the collection of marks growing from the nips and hickies he’d already left. He spent a long time there, pinching her nipples to aching hardness, before moving on to his true destination.
He cupped his massive hand around her pale, slender throat, squeezing gently. He’d clearly learned her tastes by now, and Yvraine grinned as she pressed forward against his palm.
“Yes,” she breathed, before he took her breath away.
He squeezed her firmly, clearly familiar with how much pressure it took to maim or kill, and how to stop just short of it. Only a tiny trickle of air came through as her body gave in to instinct, desperately gasping for oxygen she didn’t really want. Her pussy tightened around him, squeezing as her lungs burned and her head swam, blood pounding in her ears. All the time his hips kept moving, pounding her raw, aching cunt through four loads of his own cum.
Guilliman released her, letting her gasp and pant and drink in great gulps of air. She trembled, eyes falling shut as her lungs filled, euphoria coursing through her veins.
“Again,” she begged, and he squeezed her once more. She arched her back, trembling with sensation as she came, soaking his cock with her juices. She’d lost track of her orgasms, her sensitive body pushed to the edge of madness and beyond.
“Again,” she gasped when he released her, lost in a haze of desperate lust. She twitched and moaned, her voice strangled by that strong grip as he forced another orgasm out of her.
“You like choking, mmm?” He growled in her ear. “Do you want to choke on my cock, too?”
By Ynnead she loved this new side of Guilliman, fierce and filthy and dominant. She nodded against his hand on her throat, and he kissed the back of her head before releasing her neck, arms and legs.
Yvraine wasted no time, sliding off his cock with a groan before scrambling around, Eldar grace almost lost in desperation. He rolled onto his back to give her free access, then moaned as she immediately wrapped her hand around the base and her lips around the head of him. She could taste his thick, salty cum, alien and exotic, as well as her own sweet juices.
Yvraine slid down, jaw straining and throat spasming as she took him in. The Primarch swore as she choked around him, her eyes watering as she swallowed him all the way to the hilt. His cock throbbed, twitching against her palette as she held him there for long, aching moments. She finally had to pull off, drooling all over him as she fixed him with dark, hazy eyes.
“Fuck my mouth,” she said, voice hoarse with the rough treatment.
“As you wish, milady,” he said with a grin. He gripped her white hair in a delightfully painful way, then forced his cock into her mouth, pulling her down until her lips met golden curls.
He held her there, rolling his hips to make her gag and choke around him, then pulled her back to let her splutter for air. She’d barely gasped in one good breath before he plunged back into her throat. He repeated his movements again and again, fucking her face while he fixed her with fierce, lust-darkened eyes. His free hand slipped down to cup her throat, to feel the way she stretched around his massive cock.
He didn’t warn her this time, although she knew the signs by now. He spilled another load of cum down her throat, salty-slick and hot. She trembled as he filled her second hole of the night, then pulled out to paint her face with the last few spurts of cum.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, patting and stroking her hair as she leaned her face against his sweat-soaked thigh.
“Oh yes...” Yvraine purred, nuzzling against his soft, golden curls. “That was fantastic.”
“I aim to please,” the human chuckled, easily pulling her up so he could kiss her forehead. “I think I have one more in me, so how do you want it in you?”
“My ass,” she said immediately. She’d had him in two holes already and she needed to complete the set.
“Alright,” he said, squeezing her hip. “I have some oil in my nightstand—”
“I want you raw,” Yvraine said.
“Are you sure?” Guilliman asked, eyes wide in shock and concern. “I could really hurt you!”
“Not human, remember?” She said, hot, half-lidded eyes fixed on his. “I know my limits. Besides, I already slicked up your cock.”
She reached down, stroking the spit-shiny shaft for emphasis. The Primarch swallowed and nodded, either unable or unwilling to argue the point.
He flipped them over for the last time, turning Yvraine so she was face-down on the bed. The Eldar canted her hips up, braced her elbows on the bed and pressed her face to the sweat-stained sheets, breathing hard and fast.
“Don’t hold back,” she gasped as she felt his cockhead press against her tight little pucker. “Don’t hold anything back.”
He didn’t. The Primarch slammed his cock into her ass so hard and fast she screamed at the force of it. It was a huge, thick, burning stretch, white-hot and glorious, more intense than she’d ever even dreamed of.
Yvraine was afraid for a moment that the scream was too much, that the human would stop and ask her if she was alright, but the Guilliman had indeed learned quickly. He simply snapped his hips into her, again and again, growling in pleasure as he wrecked her ass. He knew what she liked by now, and gave it to her with no hesitation.
She writhed beneath him, sobbing out an orgasm at the relentless, merciless fucking. Her muscles spasmed, squeezing his cock tight as it ravaged her, rewarding him for the pleasure he gave.
“You can come from just your ass?” He whispered in her ear.
“Y-yes,” she babbled, grinding back against his cock. “It feels...you feel so good.”
“You too,” he said, thrusting in hard and deep. “I wish I didn’t have to rest before fucking your ass through my cum.”
“Ohhhhh,” Yvraine moaned. “Y-you’re learning far too fast...”
“I have a good teacher,” the Primarch said, biting down on the tip of her pointed ear. She wailed, clenching tight around his cock again.
Guilliman kept fucking her with his usual endurance, forcing her ass open around his thick cock. It was like she was being split in two, his aforementioned nightmare turned into her glorious dream. She’d lost track of her orgasms some time ago, and her slick juices dripped down her thighs, mingling with the seed of her human lover.
The Primarch leaned back, kneeling upright and gripping her bruised hips in a gloriously tight grip. He fucked into her still deeper and harder, powerful thrusts driving her down into the mattress as he neared his peak.
Guilliman let out one last, primal yell, slamming his cock into Yvraine’s raw, red ass. He pumped his cum into her, filling the Eldar so deep that she half imagined she could feel it in her throat. She moaned and gasped, completely overcome by the sensations as he spilled inside her for the sixth and final time.
His ferocity turned instantly to gentleness and he lowered her to the bed, soothing a hand over her trembling, cum-slick thighs. The human slowly lay down beside her, as though fearing collapse, before he gathered her into his arms. He pulled Yvraine to his chest, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of her head even as his seed leaked out of her, staining the sheets beneath them.
This was new. On the Craftworld she’d had dull, gentle lovers, while the Dark Eldar she’d bedded had been wild and rough but callous after the act. Now, Guilliman gave her the best of both those worlds. It was nice to lie in warm, muscular arms, a hand stroking her hair as all three of her holes throbbed from hard use. She snuggled back against him, listening to his breath and heartbeats as they returned to their oddly slow, human pace.
“Not bad for a first time,” Yvraine chuckled when she had her breath back. She patted his arm, and he squeezed her a little in response.
“Thank you for the lesson,” he said, smiling against her hair. “Maybe you can help me practice again sometime?”
“That would be lovely,” she replied. She twisted in his arms and met his lips in a slow, gentle slide, kissing for the sake of kissing. With her psychic powers she flicked the activation rune on the wall panel, cloaking the two in soft darkness, then pulled up the blanket to cover their bodies.
Adversity might make strange bedfellows, but their alliance certainly had some delightful perks.