Upon a Burning Star

I had my eyes glued to the ceiling while I waited for the stillness in the air to be broken. While I waited for the sign that I could move about freely without waking the titan next to me. Before long, breaths as quiet as a mouse's started to pour from his lips.

Carefully, I lift my head to confirm his peaceful slumber. Of course his long locks of disheveled white hair put up an effort to obscure his face, but it makes way to my rising stare. Roaming pupils under tightly shut lids instill confidence that he was in fact asleep.

Not a quiver is heard in his subtle breath as I creep to my feet and carefully pull the covers away. I decide shoes will be too noisy for a proper walk of shame, and don only a robe. Before I leave the room to enter the brightly illuminated halls of the ship, I spare him one last glance. His still unmoving and perfect form glowed under the celestial lights peeking through the shade.

With no great haste, I saunter to the stern of the monstrous spacecraft, making sure to pass by the nursery on the way. The smell one of the plants gives off is so sweet. Like honey-suckle. And with little to no memories of home, I find myself indulging in this little treat daily.

As expected, the rear of the vessel was devoid of life. This is my favorite spot on the ship, not only because of the lack of visitors, but also because of the behemoth window at the back of the hull that grants an unobstructed view of the terrifying beauty that is space. I sit on this windowsill and stare at the stars, and they return the favor. Their pitiful gaze reminding me only of what I have lost. Reminding me of what I have left behind.

Against my best wishes, the tears that have been meddling for hours finally gain the courage to sprint down my cheek, and with them comes a mouthful of sobs. My hand promptly raises and stifles the cries that were trying to escape my lips, refusing to give voice to the crippling despair that nestled within me.

I know what you're thinking. Just cry, right? Yeah. No. Simply because I would start, and never stop. The stars themselves would drown in the great flood of tears I have prepared. My own tears did not fill this dam of grief within me, but instead, the tears of everyone on Earth.

Earth. My home, and by now, another star wrapped tightly in flames. I could give you a hundred guesses as to what happened. Nuclear war. Global warming. Armageddon, even. Unfortunately, the truth is a lot more pathetic.

I gulp down the last fleeing cry and resume the staring contest the stars and I were having. Every night we play this game, and every night I lose. When a star seems to gain free will and move before my very eyes, I presumed tonight the win would be mine. It takes a mere second to realize that it wasn't a star taking pity on me again, but a reflection of one. The explosion of my startled heart forces a loud gasp out of my mouth, and I hurriedly find my footing to turn and greet the maker of the mirrored star.

As always, I looked upon the stars and they stared back. Only this time, the stars are in the shape of a man. A giant, measuring almost eight feet tall. The sleeping titan I left back in the cabin now stood before me and waited for me to find his hauntingly curious gaze.

"Oh," I rasp, feigning relief. "It's you. Sorry...i-if I woke you, I mean. I was just...stargazing."

There was no indication of whether he accepted my offerings or not and silence filled the corridor as he took the moment to inspect me with his cruelly bright white irises. It hasn't always been this awkward between us. Since leaving Earth though, things have been...tense, to say the least. Although his features carry little to no emotion, I know him well enough to sense the slight aggravation in his domineering linger. His eyes tell all.

My bedmate and life partner, Marzkien. Cyan for short. If it sounds alien, it's because it is. And if there is ever any doubt that he came from another world, you need only to look upon his charcoal skin, where the stars themselves have landed on him to give birth to majestic freckles scattered head to toe.

The unwavering stance holds until one of us is forced to look away, and he never looks away. After a quick scan, I deem the belt of my robe far more interesting instead and begin playing with it.

"We'll be reaching Makara by the end of the week. It's a vibrant and tumultuous planet, booming with various plants and wildlife. I really think you'll like it."

I know his words are meant to be encouraging, but for some reason they sour as they pass the threshold of his perfect fucking lips. Instead of reciprocating the connection he's seeking, I give him a single nod as his reward for his futile efforts.

"You know," he continues, forcing me to fight the urge to groan and roll my eyes. "I always believed that to be Makarian, was to be blessed. And to be anything less and to be given the opportunity to witness the homeworld of the Makarians...well that's just a fucking miracle."

His demeanor grew cold and the irritation he once bore grows into something more. My breath hitches as I fully grasp the projection of his mood.

"So...," he starts. "Here you are -with both a miracle in hand, and half a blessing. I mean- naturally, I'm a little confused." The pace in his voice begins to quicken, indicating his own patience is waning. "Confused!- as to why you can't stop- YOUR INCESSANT FUCKING WHINING! Have you absolutely NOTHING to be grateful for?!" His booming voice bounced off the walls just to assault me further.

A traitorous tear leaves a burning path in its wake as it trails down my face. That would be the only one I would spare him. To make sure I wouldn't spill anymore, I fill the silence he created. There isn't much to say except, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I quickly wipe away the evidence of the fallen tear and forbid my face from exposing me again.

He takes me in with his angered stare for one second too long before lumbering over to me, the light from the halls disappearing as he grows nearer. His hand raises but slow enough as to not inspire fear. He gently grips my chin with two fingers and brings his face near mine.

"You're upset with me," he almost whispers, "I know. But it's been months. It's time to move on."

Two months, he means. Barely. Cyan...doesn't do human emotions. How long does it take to mourn a planet? I'm not sure, I can only tell you, it's not two months. Maybe some other day I could bother explaining this to him, but today is not that day. "You're right. I'm sorry."

He releases my face only to take a hold of my hand. Gently, he leads me back to the benched windowsill and sits before me, defiling my safe space. Even still, I sit with him, avoiding the penetrating gaze I know he still has on me.

"I fell in love with a human girl. Mostly human anyway." I send him a dry smile and once again enter a contest with the stars. Regardless of my indifference, he continues on in his sickly sweet voice, one I know to be fake. "She was a perfect mix of compassionate and mean. Meek and brave. Complacent...and rebellious."

Our eyes meet again, and the chord of anger that once struck in his ice-filled orbs has been replaced with adoration. "She had such fire...what happened to her?" He asks. "I miss her...dearly."

If anything came out of my mouth, it would be a scream. Instead I hold my lips shut and face the stars again, silently begging for them to smite me. Of course, he wouldn't leave it there.

"Please. Tell me what I have to do to get her back." He begs. "Because I would do-," his free hand lands on my thigh, and he grips it gently. My eyes snap towards the invading hand and back to his oblivious and hopeful stare. "-anything," he finishes. "Capture a star... Tame a red panda..." My favorite animal-. With no more weak smiles left to deliver, I opt for a dry chuckle instead. He waits for me to revert my attention to him before he continues, his tone now dripping with accusation, "destroy a planet...even."

The courteous smile I wore just for him is wiped away instantly and is seemingly transferred onto his damning features. I much prefer the emotionless features Makarians have over the taunting but terrorizing expression that watched me back. His expression in particular reminding me of why he did what he did. Even still, the fire he sought after roared in me, and I would not stand idly by as he taunted me.

"That girl is dead," I hiss. The smile was just as quickly stolen back from him, but I would not concede. Even when his hand on my thigh started to bruise me under the growing pressure, I would not concede. "She died when you destroyed her planet."

His unamused demeanor doesn't falter as he leans in to close the distance between us. While his dominant hand grips my thigh, the other reaches behind my head to prevent escape, his fingers interlocking with my curls. No effort is made to move my head, only stabilize it for his approach.

"Find her," he urges. "I couldn't care less how you do it, but-," he pauses, his eyes warning me to take heed of his next words. "Find her. Lest another star die in her name."

My eyes grow wide at the implication, and the grin he wears once again tells me he is serious. I know what he wants. He wants the woman I was before he committed a war crime against humanity. He wants the woman who had faith in him. I can never be her again, but for now, I can pretend to be.

Before I can change my mind, I lunge forward to match my lips to his, and as expected he releases my hair and welcomes me with a crushing embrace. Cyan was a Warmonger. War was his bread and butter. Even kissing was a war for him. A war to see who would dominate who- and he gave no quarter.

Groans start to pour out of me when his tongue starts demanding entry and within mere moments, he breaks past my defenses. His tempered hand now roams freely over my chest and waist as we explore each other's mouths. I pull away to catch my breath when my heart begins to flutter and his mouth finds a new target immediately. With veracity, his hungry lips latch onto my neck.

With that, the broken and ugly sounds shift into beautiful moans that exaggerate when he spends an extra moment or two in one spot. "Come back to me, Ren," he whispers. A sharp pinch of my nipple through my thick robe pushes a dainty gasp from me, and he fills my gaping mouth with his tongue.

Once again he ignores my mumbled protests, and once again I pull away, only this time he grants me no escape. His unforgiving kiss follows me until my back lands on the bench and he hovers above me, one hand anchoring on my waist and the other resting on the bench to cage me in.

His anchored hand raises to open up my robe, exposing my mound and stiffened nipples to him and he does not hesitate to roll one in between his fingertips. His demanding kiss finally concedes to grant me a breath of much needed air, but that breath is cut short when his mouth finds my other nipple before continuing down my front, and a broken moan leaves me instead. "I could be so good to you...treat you so well," he says in between kisses.

Another abrupt gasp is forced out when his tender lips graze over my sensitive bud, and it takes all the power within me not to thrust my hips up to meet his teasing approach. Cyan can seemingly sense my desperation though and dives tongue first into my folds, tasting the arousal he had forcefully produced in me.

Lewd and disgusting sounds filled the hollow corridor, the sounds all my own. Cyan is not a patient man, and this is evident when after only minutes, he abandons his task, props himself up and starts opening his own gown. In almost a rushed state, he brandishes his manhood and aligns himself with my entrance.

Before making any attempt to enter me, his movements come to a complete halt, and his eyes lock with mine. "I can– I could make you feel better–," he urges, his tip now breaching my sore gates. "I'll make you feel so much better." With that, his length shows no mercy and enters me in its entirety. My back arches off the bench and a slur of curses fire out of me.

A deep grumble emanates from the back of his throat and he quickly finds a comfortable pace. I can't help the treacherous moans from slipping from my swollen lips, instead I avoid his similarly penetrating gaze and look back at the stars as he strips me of my dignity. "I'll make you feel good forever, eshjka," he groans, desire swimming throughout his tone. "I'll never leave you."

I always hated when he called me that. Eshjka. 'My love'- in Sednoise, the race of Makarian he is. He thinks he loves me. Maybe he does. But by my standards- by human standards -what he offers isn't love. It's control. Only control. The stars win again as my eyes shut tight to hold back the overflowing well of tears.

He pulls me out of my stupor when he suddenly yanks on my dark locs. Before a cry could be made, he comes down and sinks his teeth onto the newly exposed skin on my neck, eliciting a rattling scream instead. With a chuckling growl he releases my neck, but remained close to my face.

"What- you don't like that?" he asked, a hint of malice corrupting his sympathetic facade. After catching my breath, I once again found his unforgiving gaze promised me that there was more to come. "Hmm?" he grunted, continuing his brutal assault on my hole. "Your pussy says otherwise."

An utterly disgusted groan is all I can manage in response to his implication and he seems to take offense to this. He thrusts himself deep and stops, my back raises from the bench once again and a dry moaning gasp is milked out of me. Quickly he slides out of me and stands to his feet, and in the same motion, he grabs a handful of my hair and drags my face to his heat.

Kneeling on the bench before him, as his forearm length member bounces threateningly close to my lips, I look up at him with pleading orbs. I've been enduring this man for the past year and a half, and it never gets any easier, not when he is built like a literal horse.

My mouth opens, but to propose a compromise, to which he prematurely rejects. "I only want to make you feel good, eshjka," he urges menacingly. "You want that too. Don't you?" His thumb traces my bottom lip, telling me exactly what he wants.

Truthfully, he would've been better off just saying 'make me cum and I won't hurt you too badly'. Still, I force an agreeable grin and give him a nod before parting my lips wide to take him. A subtle groan dances on his lips as his other hand guides his cock across my tongue.

"Fuck–fuck yes," he rasps as his tip meets the back of my bruised neck. "Take it all you nasty fucking slut." He attempts to use his hand on my hair as leverage to inch himself further into my swollen canal, but finds resistance when I close my throat to his oversized mushroom head. "You–you know what I want," he urges again, his rugged tone tight with unmanageable lust. Even still, I would not open my brutalized throat to him.

Only seconds later, an irritated growl vibrates off of him and he yanks my head forward. "Fucken...fine," he murmurs. He releases my hair, only to crown my temple with both of his overbearing hands before force-feeding me the second half of his cock. Protested grunts and flailing arms couldn't save me from the invading giant that was his cock. He lets free a wavering sigh as he fully inserts himself, my nose buried deep in his pelvis.

In a panicked state, I start to slap his thighs, the air in my lungs dwindling with every second he rests there. But he remains indifferent to my surrender and plastered on his beautiful face is an expression of pure euphoria. "That's so...much...better," he exhales shakily.

He finally withdraws from my mouth, but only partially, granting me time to take one big inhale before he rushes back into my mouth. With both of his hands still anchoring me to him, he starts fucking my tender throat, spewing curses in between his shallow breaths.

For over half an hour he abused my face, burying his cock in my crying throat every few thrusts and holding it there until I began to panic. Every. Single. Time. Again I kissed the base of his giant, and again he withdrew, only this time, completely.

He shoves my head away, granting my puffy lips freedom from his relentless soldier and he looks down at my heaving form with feral excitement. He could go all night and day. I know he could. With his stare locked on to me, I notice a flicker of curiosity beam in his eyes, like a bright idea had just been born and he couldn't wait to bring it to fruition. "Turn around,” he orders.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg. I wanted to tell him no. Perhaps I would do all three, but before I could decide he shoots me the most damning of looks. Almost as if to say, 'nothing would make me happier than resistance'.

"Okay...okay," I tremble. Slowly as my body would allow, I turn to face the window, my knees bruised again already from kneeling on the metal bench. He seems to notice this too, as he doesn't rush me.

My breath fogs the window as I finally come face to face with it. The sudden hand on my back makes me shudder, and goosebumps appear when it starts making its way up my spine. With a harsh pull of my thick hair, I was standing on my knees. With my back arched, my ass brushes against his front and my breasts mash against the window.

His chest lowers against my back and he gyrates his rock-hard shaft against my plump behind. He aligns his mouth with my ear and hums a soft moan. "I'm taking your ass next, eshjka. I hope the stars are watching."

Panic floods my system at his clear-cut threat and I begin to squirm under him, my rear clashing perfectly against his king-sized cock. "Cyan...please." My breathless cries seemingly bounce off his ears, and before another word could be formed, I feel the tip of his merciless member knocking at the forbidden gates. "Please, don't. Just...just fuck me normally. Please."

He halts in his movements and presumably takes a moment to reconsider. My heart begins to race as he makes his decision and the room grows awkwardly still as I and the stars both await his answer. "Beg." I look at his reflection in the window with stunned eyes and mouth agape, unsure if he was being genuine. "Beg me to fuck your useless fucking pussy...and I just might."

I have to stop another rogue tear from escaping as I make my choice. "P-please Cyan." After almost choking on the first few shit flavored cries, I gulp down my pride and truly beg for my dignity. "I-I'll do anything you want. Please f-fuck my useless pussy...I..I want your c-cock in my pussy, Master. Please, sir. I'm sorry, Master. Please fuck my pussy." I don't even know why I was apologizing. "I want it in my cunt so bad, sir. Please give me your–."

"Enough. Vieryya (My God), whore. Have you no self-respect? Hm?" Whimpers spill out of me in place of the barrage of tears he has threatened to unleash with his cutting words. I try to close my eyes to hold them back but he tugs on my hair once violently, pulling my face away from the glass to meet his. "I mean–you are fucking pathetic. Aren't you?"

Truer words have never been spoken. "Yes," I utter in response. He pauses and inspects my soft features before letting out a short huff. He releases my hair and places a vise-like grip on my thigh while his other hand helps his raging cock make a final decision.

"Alright, eshjka," he starts, malice and finality dancing together throughout his tone. "I'll take your cunt." His thumb spreads my cheeks, exposing my sex to his veined hammer. A gasp runs off the plane of my lips when his tip teases my ass once more. I tried to vocalize my protest again but before they were given a voice, he offers an explanation. "Relax, whore–I only want a taste."

"But- AHHH." It was too late. The head of his cock slams its way in and Cyan let out a delicious sigh. "Take it out! Please!" I thrash around underneath him, hoping he won't overstay where he was un-welcomed. However he does just that, and thrusts himself forward once, in an attempt to sheathe at least half of his length. "Cyan!!" Again he sighs gleefully, but it turns into a wicked giggle that washes out my broken whimpers.

"Alright, alright. I was just having some fun," he quips. He finally leaves the forbidden valley and air fills my lungs. I hadn't even noticed I wasn't breathing. He doesn't take more than a moment to line himself up with my other abused hole and start making his entry. "I'll give you what you want."

"I–AUGH." Words fail me and instead shift into moans as he impales me with his cock. His thrusts are unforgiving and insatiable, like he wants to break me in half, but also use me to no end. "Please–AH–slow down," I beg. Again my cries fall on deaf ears and seemingly just for asking, he buries himself deep in me before carrying on to the next brutal thrust.

"Is it too much? Hm?" His husky tone reeks of sympathy, contradictory to the repeated bashing of my cervix. "Talk to me, eshjka. You can't take it? Don't tell me you can't handle it." With that, he buries himself in me again and choked groans are ejected from my chest. "Will I have to fuck that tight ass after all?"

My entire body tenses at the thought and he chuckles slyly, telling me he felt it too. "No–," I yelp. "I can– No." He spares another pitiful scoff before he slides his shaft out of my aching slit just to ram me again, and again, and again.

The stars can't tell me the time, but what felt close to two hours went by. Two hours of broken moans and futile pleas as he skewered me. Two hours of him depriving me of my self-worth for all the worlds to see.

Exhaustion racked through my body like hot needles and my knees definitely have fresh cuts on them. His heavy breathing warns me he is close, though. Or at least- close to being close. His right arm reaches around and his giant fingers land on my clit, eliciting a startled gasp from me. In slow circles his index and middle finger start massaging me, and fatigued grunts turn into sinful moans when his tongue finds refuge on my neck.

"I didn't forget about you, eshjka," he huffs before quickly returning his mouth to my hickeyed skin. Guilt and shame pour into my heart but is heavily clouded by the pit growing heavier below my stomach. His fingers dance in my slickness, bouncing off my button with joy and bringing me closer to a fatal drop.

"Please," I beg again, unsure of what I was begging for now. Perhaps I wished not to defile this safe space myself. Perhaps I wished he'd just leave me be. Regardless of my wishes, he remained steadfast, kneading my clit with an increasing pace, and an unyielding pit of nerves was beginning to swallow me whole.

"You don't have to beg this time, eshjka...just let go...just cum." His rumbling voice lit fires inside my stomach. My entire body trembles at the clear instruction, and my core screams at me for not obeying. Beads of sweat form on my temple as I fight off the inevitable doom building within. "Cum for me, Ren. Cum for me and scream my name." He sucks on my neck again, only with recently discovered vigor. His fingers remain at an even and fast pace, and his ruthless cock continues to rail me from behind. This time, I would obey him.

A surge of fire strikes through my heart and the universe comes undone in its wake. A wailing cry rips through my throat as I ride out the waves of my powerful orgasm and only moments later, I feel Cyan's throbbing cock unleash inside me. He lets out a thunderous roar as he reaches his peak, gripping my thigh again and slamming his left hand on the window to steady himself.

For several minutes we posed in doggy, using the time to catch our breath and come down from our highs. His dominant hand released my thigh and no doubt revealed black bruises. He fists his cock and slips out of me, quickly taking a step back to admire his work. My shaky knees give out from beneath me, leaving me to fall to a sitting position on the bench.

I finally meet his lingering stare and am met with the same irritated scowl he wore when he arrived. He slowly closes his dress robes and takes a step forward, filling the space between us once more. I flashed him a hopeful smile, but his demeanor was unmoving.

SMACK.

His palm lands across my face, sending needles throughout my cheek and jaw. I turn to face him again, expecting an explanation, but I decide one is not necessary when I find his irritation already growing into something more. "Learn to fucking listen, pet." That's the only reasoning he offers me before turning on his heel and heading for the brightly lit corridor. "And fix your attitude," he adds before reaching the threshold, not even stopping to look at me. "I want you at your best when we reach Makara." With that, he was off, leaving me to dwell in my own misery.

I look out at the stars, and they look back at me. They remind me where I am going, but also where I have been. Once again, they win the staring contest, and walls of tears begin to paint my face.