continued from this thread

MALACHI—He could feel her tense beneath him, no matter the part she tried to play. No matter how sweetly she tried to speak to him or how she dangled something so desirable in front of him, he would not allow her into his head. To chase her would be thrilling, he did not deny, but it would also give her the chance of being faster than him. Malachi was no doubt stronger than her, if need be, but he could not promise or convince himself that if she took off with the adrenaline pumping through her body, he would be able to follow through. A soft growl formed in his throat as he pressed further into her, his neck resting on her shoulder as he dragged his teeth across the soft skin of her cheek. "Let's leave that up for another time. I've already made up my mind." He could feel some prying eyes here and there, but the idea of them watching only enticed him further.

Malachi pulled one of his legs and placed it between the back of her thighs, nudging them apart subtly while he nipped her ear hard enough to draw blood. "You heard me, I don't like to repeat myself." He drew his chin back away from her face and lined his cold nose against the back of her spine. It was a dangerous game they were playing, but the patrons of this place would not blink an eye at him or his actions.

Malachi brought a paw to his lips, lining his tongue over his pad before bringing it below her tail, slowly trailing the wet of his salvia over her heat. "You seem nice and ready to me," he said in a low growl—but just in case she wasn't. He continued to trail his nose from her spine to the base of her tail, nipping the skin there as he continued his descent. He could smell her, willing and ready, perspirations formed on the outlets of her thighs. The soft velvet of his tongue washed over the area, tasting around her before he allowed himself to casually take a dip within. He licked his lips, locking her into memory, only giving her enough to want more.

"Beg," he said in a whispered hush, all in the while he hovered himself over her, the promise that he too had been aroused was apparent against the wake of the wet he left.

He would only give her a couple of moments to comply. A part of him wanted her to fight, wished for her to take off running so he could kick his own adrenaline in for the chase. If he caught her, however, he could not ensure that the punishment to come soon after would be light.

ALESSAThis—he—was some fucked up form of Karma, here to fuck her over for the mistakes she's made, and continue to make. The first mistake? Opening her mouth when she should've kept it sealed tight and walked away with what she had. The second? She was so sure it was this moment in itself, but every bone in her body melted and left her where she was and the choice to run was a sliver of a thought that slipped to the back of her mind, no longer leaving her in charge of whatever it was that was happening.

"Let's leave that up for another time. I've already made up my mind.” The growl that paired with the heat of his breath, the subtle sting of his touch finding the soft flesh of her cheek creates a rush of heat that begins in her crown and creeps down to her core; it tightens it's hold around her and any sense she may or may not have and the sensation alone is nearly suffocating. She reminds herself for a brief moment of where she is, with who, and what, he's doing–infront of any set of eyes that wont pry themselves away from a free show. a rush of heat beams on the skin of her cheeks under tufts of fur. Before she can pull her face away from his in anyway possible, he's pulled his away already and takes hold of an ear as he does so. A sting sets in from his tug but it's so easily numbed with the swift prying of her thighs with his own leg. Her muzzle twists, attempting to feign annoyance at the subtle satisfaction in the movement, while lips part and her chords fight to solidify as they leave her lips. "Why are you—" by the time she's able to form whatever it was she was trying to convey to the man, she's cut off and he leaves her question on a short whimper of a breath. Her back curves away as his nose trails her spine, shying away from the static touch he leaves in a trail, as if she can evade his touch as he's entrapped her with every inch of his body.

For a moment, she thinks she's regained control of the pulse hammering through her body, trying to ignore the spark he's ignited with just his demanding caresses and tone alone. That same moment is swiped away in one swift trailing movement of his slickened paw across her wet slit. You seem nice and ready to me. Ready for him, she so easily let him ignite the fire in her core, what danced around as a spark was now unbearably and pathetically pulsing through her. There were so many eyes here, whether or not they were on them, on her, was beyond her–she couldn't focus on anything but him, how could she, when he was consuming her, ready to devour her and break her in any way he wanted as she melted under his touch. Maybe it was the booze that loosened her up, that let inhibitions guide her rather than what ounce of common sense she thought she always had.

Beg, he commands, and it repulsed her and electrified her all at once. She could feel the throbbing need that was so easily coaxed out by him, could feel the heat and dampness he so effortlessly commanded from her own body with the swipe of his tongue against her. But she can feel him and his own need against her. She doesn't have a leg to stand on, doesn't have a clear thought in her head when she let's the next words slip on a whimper that she somehow manages to choke with a growl. "Make me," her chords are raspy as lips curl, her muzzle cocks to the side as she seeks purchase on whatever she can get closest to, a poor attempt at getting him to pivot in any way so she can escape his grasp. She's seen his wicked ways displayed on the man she had to accuse of lying, she knows just how vicious this beast of a man can be. She wants to provoke him, wants to feel the same hidden feeling of a rush she felt in the court house. She wants to push her limits and coax the carnal desires of the man out, if only to try and play them against him. If she's supposed to put on a show, she wants to be the star, and she wants the devil himself to come play his part.

MALACHI—Her spine bent away from his touch, good, his desire was to see her squirm in more ways than one. He was meant to humiliate her, to make her his in front of prying eyes, but it became clear rather quickly that’s not what she wanted. She was embarrassed, though there were times that he could see her drown out the crowd as she got lost in the intoxication of him. In a futile attempt to get him to back off, she lashed out, her teeth finding purchase on the soft skin of his cheek. He could feel the blood pool there as it dripped, but he did not retreat away or release her from his grip. If anything, she only fueled him. His jaws found purchase against her scruff as he forced her cheek into the wooden table, his hips pressing closer as she closed the distance between them. He release her scruff to find the soft velvet of her ear, his tongue caressed the soft skin as he trailed it down her nape, placing gentle kisses against her skin, and if she were to let her guard down, to just trust him in that moment, he would yank her scruff between his teeth again with force.

He could smell her in the air, his tongue grew wet as he inhaled a deep breath between teeth. This was the perfect opportunity to release the pent up anger and frustration she left him with. He forced her thighs apart further as he fit his other leg in between them, he hovered over her wet slit, the tip gently rubbing her entrance. Without even being in her he could feel the dampness coat the inside of her thighs. If she really didn’t want him, here and now, she could have easily said so. Malachi would not fuck the unwilling, and despite her distaste for him personally, her body viewed him differently.

Malachi did not bother to take a peek over his shoulder and he was well aware the patrons were looking. He was not humiliated, but he did not bother to imagine how she felt in the moment. Slowly he pressed his hips further until his teased her slit—he remained there for a moment, rubbing her tantalizing slow until he himself could not wait any longer. With one forceful thrust he passed her entrance, a warmth of wet consuming him immediately. Malachi pressed into her deeper, her thighs filling the empty gaps of his hips as he felt her tighten around him. His eyes rolled back, biting idly at his lip. A primal urge came over him— hungry, and selfish. He hooked his paws into the curves of her hips, each buck bringing her into him with unyielding force. The table she lay on creaked against their weight, the legs daring to buckle underneath each intense thrust into her.

ALESSAHer own arousal in this was frustrating—she could tell herself she was repulsed and scared of this man pressed against her. She could tell herself that she was embarrassed to be so.. exposed in so many ways in this moment. But the wet heat that was pooled between her thighs told a different story, the only embarrassing thing in this moment was the way her traitorous cunt was overriding her head and telling a different story to both of them.

Fangs find purchase on her scruff and bury a cheek into the table, her mind racing too face get a second to react as his tongue caresses and trails over her. Even if she did want to fight against his touch, he wouldn't give her the light of day to do so—as she was about to thrust her head upwards, he's already grabbed her by the scruff once more. A short, breathy sigh escapes her muzzle as he spreads her thighs apart. Another breath gets caught in her throat as she feels his arousal just barely meet hers, and through the wet heat he's met with, she can already feel the slight throb of need pulsing between her legs.

He begins to tease, building the overwhelming ache between her thighs, making every inch of her body feel like electricity was coursing through it. She gives a soft whine on an exhale, “M-Malachi, plea—" she begins to beg or fight, she can't tell which it was. But it was cut short as he buried himself into her. A rush of what feels like a million different sensations floods her body, her wet heat only aiding this man in his lunacy and welcomes him without protest. She gives a low, soft whine as she tries to catch her breath. “Fuckk,” she moans as throws her head back, her body following suit as she pressed back into Malachi, already being too greedy and wanting to feel him in every depth of her that she could. Heat rushed between her legs, between them. Her face would be red hot if not for the fur to cover it up. The sliver of sanity in her was screaming to her that she needed to remember where she was and what she was doing. But the sound of Malachi slamming into her, covered in her arousal, was the only thing she could hear clearly in this moment. She was so certain that this man was the Devil, here to condemn her to deepest parts of Hell with every rough touch he could manage, with this fucking bar as his witness.

MALACHI—She tightly wound around him causing him to press further and deeper into her, as if he was starved and hungry to lose himself within her. She would feed him by pressing back into him, his hips inviting her further as he would lock the space between them with his paws buried into her lush hips. He groaned through teeth full of her scruff, every thrust harder and deeper than the previous. His name on her tongue sounded so succulent in the air and he only wished to hear it again and again.

The bystanders watched idly, a couple of them even followed suit by fucking their own partners at the ends of tables from what he could gather with peripheral vision. He wasn’t worried about them though as his sole focus was only on her, however his greed would only reside with him. He pulled out of her as he felt her begin to grow close to climax, his cock immediately discomforted by the cool air as it twitched to be back in her warm, wet cunt. Malachi lowered his head as he dipped between her legs, her arousal coated the inners of her thighs. He licked between them, cleaning her up and running his tongue along her wet slit, taking her in and tasting her while a hungered growl bubbled in her throat. “Fuck you taste so good,” he doesn’t stop there, dipping past her folds as he tongue fucked her, watching as her body squirmed beneath the pleasure.

He was rock hard and ready to burry himself into her again, so when he felt she was close to climaxing he would hook back onto her hips and slowly press himself deep into her. His chin rested against her back each push and pull tantalizingly slow, wanting her to be desperate for him. He would then pick up the pace, but he would now allow her to come, no. He wanted her to remember this moment, and every fine detail in between. He wanted her to remember he was here, and it was him who took her in front of a crowd of people and branded her as if she was solely his own to bucket into. Malachi’s hips slammed into her as he buried his cock in her at fast pace until he felt he was ready for his release.

Refusing to knot, no matter how good she felt wrapped around him, he pulled out with a groan and emptied himself against the back of her thighs, his chest pressed against her back. His breaths were heavy as he found her ear, nipping it slightly as he finally found the crowd, all of them eagerly breaking their gaze upon eye contact. He could only hope they enjoyed the show.

“I’ll give you credit for being a slightly better fuck than a common whore,” he took one last glance at his souvenir that leaked down the back of her legs. With a smirk he would leave her where she stood, to clean herself off and answer to the crowd that gawked.

Exit Malachi