***
Harrier felt a strange satisfaction himself as he watched Samiel's face take on that expression of delight. He liked to see her happy, and took pride in the fact that it was within his ability to please her this way... Her hands clenched and relaxed over his shoulders in a rhythm that, he knew, matched the pulses zipping through her circuits.
It was several minutes before she let go of her shoulders and raised herself upwards, gently catching hold of his hands and drawing them away. She folded her arms across his chest and lay down atop of him, tucking her legs up behind her. He grinned as he felt the air moving in and out of her intakes as she panted for breath. "So, my dear Duke, is that location designed just for fun or is it part of the interface proper?"
"It's the front edge of your interface port," he murmured. "No more cables, my dear Sammi...itąs simply jack and port these days. Much more direct..."
~much more personal contact,~ he thought. In these new Maximal shells...and, he assumed, Predacon as well...the two individuals got so much closer than in the old days of cable contact, when it was possible to maintain over a foot of distance between bots... An old memory of a night when his guard duty at a doorway had involved less attention on his surroundings and more attention on the sensations coming through the cable he'd woven through the transfer lock to the femme on the other side flickered, unbidden, to mind. Those days were over now, but the appeal of nuzzling up close to a warm lady Maximal more than made up for it and...
Why in Primus' name was he thinking about this? It was almost sacrilegious in a way. Those...Decepticons, Autobots, Maximals, who were they? The only female whoąd ever counted was looking down at him now.
"And you would know, hmm?" Samiel smirked. "In fact, you would probably be about the most well versed Maximal around."
Harrier suddenly felt absolutely ashamed. "I...well...Sammi, I..."
"You haven't changed," she summed up, grinning at him. "Do the Maximals have a page in their training manual warning the girls about you?"
The Decepticons had. He squirmed, unable to move too far since she had him pinned between her legs. "I...ah..."
She was smiling, obviously amused, but his thoughts were completely serious. After all these years, things were finally starting to make sense and the realization was nothing short of galvanizing. What in the Pit had he been doing, fooling around with all those other girls, when the only one that mattered had been there from the beginning?
How would he tell her that--tell her that he was through with being Cybertron's number one playbot?
~She doesn't love you. She doesnąt want a mate. She will always value her wars above anything else.~
But try as he might, he couldn't logic away these emotions.
~Deal with this mess later,~ he thought. Sammi's stomach was pressing against his lower body armour in a way that was exciting but almost painful.
"You haven't picked up any viruses, have you?" she smirked.
He frantically shook his head no.
"Well then, Mr. Expert. Why don't you show me where you've got your interface jack hidden..." Her claws raked down his stomach, weaving under the chain mail.
"A...armour," he stuttered. "Like yours..." He reached up, placing his hands overtop of hers, guiding her down to the catches on either side of his hips.
"Ah," she said with a smile, rising up a little...but she didn't pull the armour plating free. Instead, she played her fingers over the catches. "These, hmm?"
He nodded.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," he panted.
"Are you...really sure?"
Harrier moaned, knowing she was toying with him, half tortured by the need inside him, half furiously excited by her...her power, her desire, her complete untouchability. He could never touch her if she didn't want him to, but here she was, seeking him out...and there was an aura of danger all around her, the realization that he was putting himself completely in her hands and at her mercy. She could kill him, if she wanted to. She was, after all, a Predacon...a general...a precision weapon...
Primus, he wanted her.
Her touch was feather-light as she popped the catches and pried the armour plate free. The shock of cool air on his interface jack was incredibly exciting, but nothing next to the warmth of her hand, the teasing caress of an exploratory finger tracing its length...
"Jack...and port. That easy, hmm?"
"That easy," he replied, gasping.
"Well then...in that case, it seems our interrogation is over." She backed away from him abruptly. He winced; his entire body was tight with need. He felt as if he were falling, as if she'd brought him to this state only to leave him hungry and whimpering...
"I've got everything I wanted to know from you." She looked down at him, the trace of a smile playing around the lips.
"Samiel...please...please, Tempest..."
She arched an eyebrow. "You're not expecting any mercy from me, are you?"
"N...no..." Oh, Primus, he thought he was going to go mad if he didn't get some release somehow...
"Well, good."
He didnąt even see her strike. One moment she was back there on her knees, looking at him, and the next thing he knew, he was pinned beneath her. Her thighs gripped his hips...her elbows rested on his chest...her hands were curled around his shoulder guards--and her face was mere centimetres from his.
"Welcome," she hissed, "to the clutches of a Predacon commander."
He had barely enough time to realize that she'd aligned his jack and her port almost perfectly...that his tip was resting right on that spot he'd been massaging earlier...when she thrust forward, joining their bodies.
***
For a moment, she wondered if she'd made a mistake--it was her first interface in this shell, and her port was snug enough that initiating interface had caused a ribbon of pain to spiral up her neural net...
...but the pain was receding, quickly replaced by a sensation that was more than simply pleasure. It was as if the ache inside of her had been an emptiness, a void, that was now filled. Harrier's jack fit perfectly inside her, filling her, soothing the pain even as it sent teasing pulses of delight through her system.
She took a peek downward. Harrier's face, though so different than his old Decepticon face, still had an expression she knew very well...an expression of excited shock. He looked practically delirious, and she smiled to herself. As long as she could get that expression on his face, she hadn't lost her touch...
Oh, yes, Harrier was enjoying himself. He slid his hands up the outsides of her legs, under the feathered skirt, and around her hips to hold her even closer to him and help her move in tandem with his thrusts. She could feel his grip tremble as the emotions overloaded his circuits and made his arms shake.
His whimpers, his urging hands, and his motion beneath her caused her own excitement to build. It was getting harder and harder for her to focus her optics on him, and so she decided not to even bother trying. Instead, she closed her optic lids, entering a world of darkness where her primary information came from the sensation of touch. She couldn't quite shut out his whimpers of delight...or her own...but by blocking the visual information, she could concentrate even more closely on the pleasurable impulses travelling through her neural net, and they were good...so very good...
Primus, she'd missed this...
***
Harrier gritted his teeth, willing himself to hold on for just a little while longer. Samiel's face...oh, she was beautiful, her optic lids closed and on her face a smile that was nothing short of radiant. He wanted, so badly, to make her happy...to fix her years of pain...
He could hardly control the feelings building up inside him. Holding back was almost painful, and yet, he couldn't disappoint her. For a moment, despite their closeness, he felt so far apart from her...
...and then...
...a warmth, a feeling of fulfilment, a blissful heaven and a building excitement only made sharper by years and years of cold...years that now faded away as the bot beside her filled her, warmed her, opened his affection to her and gave freely of himself...
He was experiencing the emotions in her spark.
Autobot and Decepticon interface had been less of a physical experience and more of a mental one. The closer proximity and sharper pleasure of the Maximal way of doing things had also caused a mental distance between partners. Since his reawakening, Harrier had doubted that it was even possible to feel the female's thoughts as he had in his old life.
Evidently it was...maybe he just needed the right girl...
Samiel...Tempest...his lady...
He clutched her to him, holding her, loving her, wishing nothing more than to join with her. He could tell how she liked the motion inside her and thrust harder, stronger...that felt so good, so very good...
Was that his thought, or her own?
He didn't know, he didn't care. Maybe it was both. She was so warm against him, so close, and her port gripped his shaft snugly, and her affection and excitement coiled around his spark and boosted the voltage to levels that...
His head snapped backwards as a foxhound's howling cry ripped from his throat.
***
Below her, she could feel him driving deeper, but her mind was occupied with the warmth and oneness, the sense not only of being physically filled but more importantly, of Harrier's conscious choice to give her that affection and fill the void within her spark. Then she felt him stiffen...heard his howl of pleasure...
He'd given her absolutely everything...he was hers, they were one...
An archaeopteryx cry joined the tenor voice of the foxhound, and then she collapsed, panting, across his chest.
They lay there for a moment, still joined, and she watched her view of the room change slightly as her head rose and lowered with the heaving of Harrier's chest. Finally, somewhat shakily, she disengaged herself from the foxhound and picked up her armour with trembling hands.
He looked up at her, his eyes suddenly uncertain. "There's no hurry," he murmured.
"Whose ship is it anyway..." She bit off as she tried, unsuccessfully, to snap her armour back in place and instead almost dropped the blue metal plate. Unbidden, Harrier sat up and helped her latch the armour back into position.
He tilted his head. "You're leaving?"
"No." She tossed his armour at him. "And do up that chain mail."
Reluctantly, he complied. Summoning up his courage, he asked in a low and hurt tone, "What did I do wrong?"
The archaeopteryx-bot arched an eyebrow at him as she walked over, pushed him to a sitting position on the bed, and curled up on his lap again. She ran a talon under his chin and murmured, łNothing at all.˛
"Then why...why put our armour back on so fast?"
Her expression grew grim. "This is a war, Harrier. I can't afford to be caught off guard."
"But we're in your own ship...with your two soldiers in the command center!" he protested.
Yes. Laserbeak and Buzzsaw. She tilted her head at the security camera in the corner of the room, realizing that sheąd forgotten to shut it off--stupidly careless, though they'd probably have been interrupted if she had, by Buzzsaw with a repair kit. Ah well. Hopefully Laserbeak and Buzzsaw had enjoyed the view--and not forgotten to keep an optic on the other cameras. It wasn't as if the two eagle-bots could say or do anything. She was supreme commander in her ship, and she could "interrogate" the Maximal any way she saw fit.
Harrier was still talking. "You don't have to be afraid all the time," he murmured.
"I'm NOT afraid. Of anything!" she snapped. But it was bluster. She knew it, and suspected that Harrier did too. The simple fact was, she didnąt like being without her armour for long. It frightened her. It made her uncomfortable. She felt weak...defenceless...exposed. She felt like a target.
The foxhound also knew better than to call her bluff. He meekly curled up on the bed, watching her from wide russet optics. "Are you going to stay?"
"Yeah. Move over." She climbed onto the bed beside him, moving over until she was right next to him. Laserbeak and Buzzsaw be damned. As he wrapped his arms around her, she said, "You probably ought to get some sleep. That dart I shot you with is going to give you a headache if you donąt rest up." Samiel paused, then continued, "I'm sorry, by the way...but I couldn't take the chance that you were lying. It's..." Her voice broke, unbidden. "It's hard to believe I have you back."
He gave her a sleepy smile. "It's good to be back."
"Yeah." Samiel ran a hand down his face. łNow get some rest. You look tired."
"I'm rather exhausted, thanks to you."
"I didn't hear you complaining."
"Why would I do a silly thing like that?"
She grinned.
"Good night, Sammi..."
"Good night, Harrier."
Within seconds, the combined effects of drug and physical exertion had the foxhound deep in rest cycle. The same could not be said of Samiel as she lay beside him, her thoughts in a maelstrom.
What in Primus' name had she been thinking? He was a Maximal...what was she going to do with him now? Send him back to Optimus Primal with her compliments? Explain to Laserbeak and Buzzsaw why she was giving a Maximal free rein in her ship? They could probably understand taking pleasure from the prisoner, but freeing him would be beyond their understanding, and her power as leader depended on her maintaining the respect of her troops...
She looked down at the VTOL foxhound bot. Harrier, Duke of Decepticons. Her best friend.
Hers once more.
Future be damned. She was being illogical, and she didn't care. There was light in her life again after a very long darkness.
As she nuzzled in close to Harrier, she realized that there was one thing she'd forgotten to do. She raised herself up on her elbow, optics zooming in on Harrier's cheek, leaned over, and gently gave him a kiss.
THE END
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