The cold air hit his chest as Jason turned toward the door, every muscle in his body screaming at him to stay. His hand was already on the handle, the metal cool against his sweaty palm, when he felt her breath on the back of his neck.

"Leaving so soon?"

Her voice was a low, husky whisper that crawled right into his ear and settled somewhere deep in his gut. Before he could twist the knob, her hand clamped over his mouth, fingers pressing hard against his lips. The other hand snaked around his waist, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, yanking him backward.

He stumbled, off-balance, and she used his momentum to spin him around. His back hit the wall, and she was against him in an instant—body heat searing through the thin layers between them. Mira’s eyes were wild, pupils blown wide, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. Her breath came in ragged, uneven pants, and he could smell it on her: that thick, cloying sweetness that meant her heat was in full swing.

"Mira, don’t—" he tried to say, but her hand was still over his mouth, muffling the words.

Her other hand dropped, fumbling with his cock. He grabbed her wrist, tried to push her away, but his grip was weak, trembling. Her heat was doing something to him too, clouding his judgment, making his blood run hot and thick. His cock was already hard, straining against her hand and when she finally got his pants open and her fingers wrapped around him, he let out a choked groan into her palm.

"Shh," she breathed, her lips brushing his ear. "Just let it happen. You know you want to."

He shook his head, but his hips betrayed him, thrusting forward into her grip. She smiled against his skin, a hungry, predatory thing, and then she was moving—smooth, fluid, impossibly graceful. Her leg came up, hooking over his shoulder, and she balanced on one foot like a dancer, her core flexing as she lowered herself.

The head of his cock pressed against her folds, slick and ready, and the moment it touched her he felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him. No, no, no—but his body wasn’t listening anymore. Her hips dropped, and she took him in one slow, agonizing inch at a time.

The heat of her was unlike anything he’d ever felt. It was like sliding into a furnace, wet and tight and pulsing with a rhythm that matched his heartbeat. His hands came up, not to push her away, but to grip her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as she sank deeper. She was tight, almost impossibly so, and when she reached the halfway point, her breath hitched.

"Fuck," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You’re... big."

She tried to slam her hips down, to take him all at once, but her body resisted. The stretch was too much, and she let out a pained whimper, her thighs quivering. She paused, her forehead dropping to his chest, her breath hot and ragged against his skin.

"Easy," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "Easy..."

She rocked her hips slowly, a gentle back-and-forth, letting her body adjust. Each tiny movement sent sparks through him, her inner walls clenching and releasing in counterpoint. He could feel every ridge of her, every flutter, the way she opened up for him little by little. His hands slid from her hips to her ass, cupping the firm curves, guiding her down.

"You feel that?" she whispered, her voice raw. "God, Jason... you feel that?"

He couldn’t answer. He didn’t have words. All he had was the sensation of her taking him deeper, the slow, torturous slide until finally, finally, she bottomed out. Her hips met his pelvis, and she let out a long, shuddering gasp. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple, and she licked her lips, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Fuck," she breathed again. "There... right there..."

She started to move. A shallow pump at first, just rocking her hips back and forth, each thrust sending a pulse of pleasure through him. Her hand was still over his mouth, but it was looser now, her fingers curling against his cheek like she was holding his face in a lover’s caress. He could taste salt on her palm, could smell the musky scent of her skin.

Her rhythm quickened. She lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped, her inner walls gripping him with every stroke. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, wet and obscene. She was salivating, literally drooling, a string of saliva dripping from her parted lips onto his chest. Her eyes were half-lidded, glassy, lost in the haze of her heat. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"More," she whimpered. "More, more—"

She slammed her hips down again, harder this time, and a cry tore from her throat—a raw, animal sound that made his toes curl. Her nails raked across his shoulders, leaving red lines, and she started to move faster, desperate, her breath coming in broken gasps.

Jason felt himself losing the battle. The pleasure was too sharp, too intense, a wave building in his gut that he couldn’t hold back. His hands tightened on her ass, pulling her into each thrust, meeting her halfway. He was going to cum. He was going to fill her, and then he’d be hers, and he knew—

The wall behind him exploded.

A dark shape crashed through it, wood and drywall spraying in all directions. An arm—thick, chitinous, bristling with spines—swung through the rubble and caught Mira across the side of the face. The impact was brutal, lifting her off him and sending her spinning through the air. She hit the water with a splash, a plume of lake water erupting where she disappeared.

Jason stood there, cock still slick and aching, chest heaving, his brain struggling to process what just happened. The Ant King rose to its full height, mandibles clicking, its multifaceted eyes fixed on the spot where Mira had vanished. It took a step forward, ready to deliver the killing blow, its arm drawing back.

"Stand down!" Jason shouted, his voice cracking. "I said stand down!"

The Ant King froze. Its head swiveled to face him, antennae twitching. It didn’t speak—it never spoke—but it understood. Slowly, it lowered its arm, taking a step back.

Jason stumbled forward, his legs shaking, and splashed into the water. He found Mira coughing, sputtering, her hand pressed to her cheek where a dark bruise was already forming. She looked up at him, her eyes clearing for the first time, and she managed a weak smile.

"I’m sorry," she said, her voice rough. "I couldn’t... when the heat takes over, I can’t control it. You know that."

Jason knelt beside her, his heart pounding in his ears. He was still hard, still throbbing, but the heat-induced haze had broken. He shook his head, letting out a shaky laugh.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it is the same with Ylva,"

He didn’t take it personally. He couldn’t. She was a creature of instinct, and in mating season, instinct won. But as he looked at the Ant King standing guard behind him, he felt a strange, unwelcome relief. He had been seconds away from crossing a line he wasn’t sure he wanted to cross.

He couldn’t drop his seed in just anybody womb.

And maybe that was the real problem.

Jason needed more self-control.