Token of Affection
Be prepared for a rough ride!
Deathangel raced out of the Autobot base as fast as her legs could carry her. She transformed and sped away, leaving behind a cloud of dust and echoes of her laughter. She nearly crashed into a tree at the sight of her pursuers cursing and firing shots that didn't even come close, she was laughing too hard to stay on course. Still, it wasn't wise to stay out in the open, and she hurried back to headquarters.
She found Megatron staring intently at one of the monitors. "What are they up to?" he muttered, stroking his cheek thoughtfully.
She came up behind him, slipping an arm around his waist as she studied the object of his attention. She could not resist a snicker. "They are simply chasing their own tails, my lord. Do not concern yourself with such foolishness."
A slight smile crossed Megatron's face as he studied the lovely femme before him. "Indeed, our enemies are foolish, but we must never underestimate their cunning. There seems to be an unusual amount of activity, and that concerns me. I wonder what they're doing?"
Deathangel looked smug. "I believe I can answer that question."
Megatron frowned. "What do you mean? I don't like the sound of that."
"They perhaps are upset by the fact that I broke into Optimus Prime's office."
Megatron's expression was of pure shock. "What?!! What motivated you to do such a thing?"
She looked up at him, pleading silently for him to keep his temper. "I wanted to give you a present."
Megatron's expression of incredulity grew as his frown deepened. "You went into the heart of enemy territory without backup just to give me a present?"
Deathangel ducked her head a bit, knowing that it sounded foolish. "Well, yeah," she said softly. "I was hoping to obtain some secret documents to further our cause and prove my worth, but the alarm went off the moment I finished picking the lock. I panicked and grabbed the first thing I saw."
Megatron was intrigued. "What was it?"
Deathangel looked embarassed. "Nothing of value." She held out her hand, and a paperweight materialised from her subspace pocket.
Megatron plucked it from her hand and studied it carefully. True, in itself it was nothing special. It was made of a black material, no doubt some kind of Earth rock. But still, it had been Optimus Prime's, snatched from the desk by his very daring lover. He closed his fist around it, and it almost seemed warm from Prime's office. Who knows how many top-secret papers it had sat upon, how many secret conversations it had been witness to? If only it could talk.....
He smiled at her anxious expression. "It's perfect," he murmured. "Though in the future, I'd appreciate it if you didn't throw your life away to bring me a trinket. I'd prefer to have you whole." His optics darkened with emotion, and he reached out to draw her closer.
"Well, well," a shrill voice broke in. "If it isn't Megatron and his little plaything. Satisfies you often, does she?"
Starscream's smirk disappeared at Megatron's angry cry. Megatron's fist connected with the wall, where his head had been moments before. "Let's go," Megatron said coldly. "There's too much stupidity in this room for me to bear."
Deathangel followed her leader out of the door, kicking the aerial commander on the way. She laughed at his hissed vows of vengeance. Starscream was a fool to challenge his leader, who was clearly his better. She had no doubt where they were heading, and she allowed her thighs to brush against Megatron's suggestively. He growled low in his throat, and thankfully it was then that they reached his quarters, or the other warriors might have gotten a glimpse of their leader's prowess in other areas.
She waited impatiently as Megatron disengaged several security mechanisms and then entered a complicated code. At last the door slid open, and they entered quickly, wanting to satisfy their desire. Again she had to wait as Megatron engaged yet more safety measures, then at last he turned to her with a suggestive smile. "I believe this little treasure will look perfect on my own desk, right here," he declared, placing it on his private workspace. Every time he saw it he would laugh at how it was stolen from his enemy, and the amazing abilities of his lover.
He turned, and his lips immediately made contact with Deathangel's. The kiss was forceful, almost confrontational, as the two expressed their strength and acknowledged the other's. Her hands reached up to explore his broad back, working down to his waist. She was distracted, however, when he deftly removed her breastplate and caressed her breast with only one finger. She growled in frustration and squeezed his shoulders, silently urging him to do more.
Megatron chuckled at her frustration. "Not enough for you?" he teased, brushing his finger over the peak. Deathangel began to pant at the feather-light touch. She loved and hated the torment at the same time, since it got her hot yet left her craving much more. Megatron enjoyed her look of yearning for a few moments, then gave in and lowered his head, enveloping the breast in his mouth, his other hand stimulating its twin. Her panting increased as he sucked powerfully, then bit down gently, pinching the other peak between his fingers.
Deathangel screamed at the agonizing pleasure the pain brought. This was no Autobot pansy afraid to touch a woman roughly lest she crumble to dust, this was a Decepticon who knew his power and wasn't afraid to use it. The sensations rocketed straight from her breasts to her interface, causing a gush of lubricant. His continual nibbling made her legs weak, threatening to collapse under her. She wrenched his head away, ignoring his look of surprise, and headed for the recharge berth. She leaned against the wall from her seated position atop the bed, spreading her legs wide. "Give it to me!" she hissed.
The sight of his wanton lover with her legs spread wide, slick with lubricant, turned Megatron's already firm erection to pure steel. It was hard to believe that she was of Autobot parentage; her instincts were pure Decepticon. She always knew what she wanted and how to pursue it. But he wasn't about to end their fun just yet.
He approached the bed slowly, admiring the impatient movements of her hips and her whimpers. He climbed up onto the bed between her spread legs, kneeling in his favorite spot. He gently fingered her entrance, aroused further by her sharp panting. Very soon his hand was drenched up to his wrist. He slipped a finger inside her, and she thrust her hips up, wanting more. "Ah, yes!" she gasped. "You know exactly what I want, my lord."
"At your service," he replied, adding in a second finger. His arousal was mounting swiftly, but he so loved touching her this way that he couldn't resist. His heart squeezed in emotion as he took in her face, taut with desire, her head thrown back, her sleek throat, her beautifully curved breasts, shown off by her arching back, and her lovely legs, crowned by a very responsive and now saturated interface.
Deathangel forced her optics open, wanting to watch. She wanted him inside of her, frictioning against her, but that would come soon enough. He was so incredible that he could satisfy her with just a finger. Her optics focused hungrily on his fingers, glistening with wetness, thrusting rhythmically in and out of her. She was entranced as his fingers disappeared into her, only to reappear moments later.
Her interface tightened and her hips surged upwards. Sweet release was so close, and she closed her optics again, savoring the thrusting sensation between her legs. His other hand squeezed her breast, and the added sensation sent her over the edge. "Megatron! Oh, oh!" she cried mindlessly, her entire body jerking as her interface contracted, the orgasm burning its way through her. Coolant poured down her body as her legs trembled uncontrollably.
Megatron watched hungrily as the femme thrashed beneath his hand, lost to everything but the pleasure he was giving. He waited until the tremors died away, then removed his hand, licking off the lubricant with relish. Deathangel cried out at his action, wanting to be touched again. He was more than happy to oblige her, as he rose up out of his kneeling position, covering her body with his own. He entered her willing core with one swift thrust, despite his massive size.
Deathangel bit down on his shoulder at the delicious intrusion. He seemed to stretch her, filling her fully, more satisfyingly than anyone else ever could. He fucked the same way he led- with grace, finesse, and power.
The sharp pain of her bite spurred him on, and Megatron began to work himself with her. His hips lifted high into the air, until only the head was sheathed, then thrust down again. His powerful rhythm was exactly what Deathangel craved. She liked sweet words and soft caresses, but in the heat of sex she wanted it rough and forceful. She wanted to express her own power and be answered in return. Her hips pistoned against him, arching up above the bed, fighting him and welcoming him at the same time. The bed shuddered underneath their coupling, but held. It was reinforced, since the last one had snapped under their ardent excercise.
Megatron's hands caressed her sides, then anchored themselves on either side of her as he braced himself, thrusting harder than ever. He relished the power of their coupling and yearned to please his passionate lover. His back arched as Deathangel scraped her fingers down his spine, the pain fueling his lust. The feeling of slick wetness enclosing him was overwhelming. She grasped his hips and impaled herself upon him as she sensed the preparatory throbs. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck as his body stiffened. His cry, though muffled, was still formidable as she felt an intense throbbing within her, and her insides were flooded with warmth. He panted as he lost himself in the exquisite release.
The sensation of him coming within her sent her into orbit a second time. As his warmth gushed into her, she let loose an audio-piercing shriek, her interface squeezing much more powerfully than before. Her legs locked around his as she came, vast waves of pleasure rippling down her interface. She saw spots behind her closed optics, and knew that unconsciousness was close. Drained, she slumped beneath her lover, too weak to lift a finger.
When he recovered a bit of strength, Megatron propped himself upon his elbows, smiling at her, his limp interface large enough to remain in place. "I always reward loyalty," he murmured.
Deathangel smiled tiredly. "Perhaps you should try it on Starscream. He sure could use a bit of loyalty."
Megatron looked disgusted at the thought. "I'd sooner slay him first. Let's just enjoy what we have, my love."
Deathangel smiled at him affectionately. "That's all I want, my love."
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