heh^^
Jesse wakes up sore, sated, and with something wriggling in his butt.
Hanzo, he thinks. He tries to lift limbs weighed down by lead-lined veins.
A claw reaches up, wraps around his arm, and holds him down. It is black as pitch, the crown on a row of segmented armor plates, a finger attached to a heavy, ghostly gray and green striped arm lined with shark teeth. Insectoid.
You have not seen how monstrous I become. Hanzo’s words echo in his head. McCree tries to remember how he got here. Had he been teasing the incubus? Depriving him too much? Teasing him with flashes of belly or thigh, promising an entree and refusing even the lightest appetizer?
There is an ache in his belly. It may be from how many times Hanzo has taken him – wearing his glamor at first, then dropping it and fucking him with whatever cock his real form has – but there is also a superficial pain. A puncture wound.
A venomous sting.
Hanzo’s tongue slides out of him. It’s wet and thick against his thigh. A mandible, sharp and dexterous, brushes against his ass.
“Hanzo,” Jesse mewls.
Another claw digs into his hair, surprisingly gentle. It drags his head back. The incubus listens to him moan as he presses inside again, McCree’s hole soft and accepting of anything now, stretched loose and made pliant over hours of feasting. It will be some time yet before dawn comes and forces him back into a fleshy shell.
Hanzo stretches his wings. Jesse spots their flame-lit shadows and whimpers.
“Husssh,” the incubus soothes, words alien and twisted in his grinding, crushing mouth, “My darrrling, husssh.”