'Why wait when I can control the variables myself?' Amethiel thought, the rush that surged through him sharp and intoxicating, almost overwhelming in how quickly it took hold.
The tentacle was already in his hand, solid and warm, alive in a way that sent a strange awareness through his fingers. It flexed faintly against his grip, responsive, present.
Amethiel didn't wait for Kree to obey the command.
He had already decided.
He guided the blunt, rounded tip to his entrance, his body already thrumming from the earlier stimulation.
He was slick with sweat, his skin glistening under the torch lights. With a sharp, controlled breath, he pushed back.
The intrusion was immediate and profound.
"Nngh—!"
A sound, half-gasp, half-moan, ripped from his throat.
It wasn't pain.
It was a filling.
A stretching pressure so complete it short-circuited his thoughts.
'As I thought…this feels much, much better than my fingers.'
