Chapter Text
With another convention and series of lectures completed, Professor R. Raccoon found himself on a stool at the hotel’s high-end bar. He was on his second Gargle Blaster and looking forward to a potential third and fourth. Long days of having to socialize and mingle between his talks were f*cking exhausting, and, if he had his way, he’d be in his lab doing something worthwhile, like working or researching the recent anomaly in the UNTN (Universal Neural Teleportation Network).
“Heya short king, buy you your next one?” a low, sultry female voice purred in his ear.
Looking up, he saw possibly the prettiest humie he’d ever seen smiling down at him. She had golden curls, the most amazing curves, and snapping green eyes that met his own. Rocket nodded, and the bartender took her order, one more Gargle Blaster and a fruity co*cktail.
“My name’s Petra,” she introduced herself.
“I’m Rock-”
“Professor R. Raccoon,” she interrupted him. “I was at your talk this afternoon.”
Knocking back the last of his second Gargle Blaster, he side-eyed the woman next to him. “What did you think?” he asked lightly.
“Your talk was very interesting,” she began as she took a seat next to him. “I mean who doesn’t enjoy a little theoretical adventure through the UNTN?” Grinning a million-watt smile as she danced her fingers across the rim of her co*cktail. “Thing is, I found myself getting a little distracted while you were explaining phase harmonics and their possible connection to the Quantum Realm.”
“Too advanced for you to follow?” he asked a little meanly.
“Please, insult me harder, daddy,” she cooed with a wink while using her arms to squeeze her breasts together, “That’s definitely a kink on my checklist,” Petra teased. Then she deflated a bit and her attitude flipped.
Sitting back on her stool and examining her scarlet nails she said flatly, “I’m a xeno-botanist, and I’m working with plants that grow actual wormholes, can extend human life, and cure physical and mental illnesses. Also, I discovered one during undergrad fieldwork that grows f*cking self-sustaining biomes. Universities across the galaxy are fist fighting each other to hire me the second I get my PhD.”
“Oh,” Rocket said, feeling a little guilty for being a dick.
“Oh,” she sing-songed at him, then dropped her voice to a whisper, “But you can pretend I’m dumb if that’s what gets your dick hard.”
Rocket blinked up at her owlishly and pushed his glasses up his nose where they’d slid down. This woman and her sudden switch from simmering vixen to annoyed academic prodigy and back again was… intriguing. “I’ve read about you,” he began, slowly reassessing the beautiful woman in front of him. “So, you’re Petra Quill? Budding and brilliant botanist. What are you doing here at a Mathematical and Physics conference?”
“Did you miss the part about a plant that creates actual f*cking wormholes? On Terra, my own sh*thole home planet, we call then Einstein-Rosen Bridges. I’m doing a little side hustle to find a genius to co-author a paper on these plants with me who’s willing to do some of the math.”
“Oh, so this is about wanting my help, not getting your rocks off?” he frowned. Upset that she just wanted to use him like everyone else.
“Ew, no. I want an unknown nerdy genius, not a bloated, self-important well-known genius,” she grinned. “I don’t want you stealing all my glory.”
“And now you’re insulting me,” Rocket stared at her, shocked to be sassed so hard. It had been a long while since someone had been properly disrespectful to him.
“You insulted me first,” she retorted
“Fair enough,” he sighed. “Could we start over? Tell me what distracted you during my talk.” He lifted his new Gargle Blaster
Petra gave him a long, searching look, then relaxed and leaned in close. “I lost track of things because I started thinking more about how you’d look with your adorable dad glasses barely hanging onto your nose while I ride your dick, handsome.”
Rocket coughed as her words nearly had him breathing in his drink. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I want to strip you down and use your nerdy cardigan to pad my knees while I blow you,” Petra added conversationally before taking a delicate sip from the straw in her drink.
“You’re very forward,” he said, staring up at her in alarm and growing desire.
“I’m guessing you’re not used to being told that you’re hot as f*ck, huh?” she grinned as she rested her head on her hand. He couldn’t help but sneak a covert glance at how pretty her breasts looked in the sweetheart neckline of her blue top.
“No, I’m not,” he replied a little sadly. No one had ever spoken to him like this, not his ex-wife, not the few and far between lovers he’d had since his divorce. He rarely felt looked at or seen for anything beyond his brain.
“That’s a shame. I could wax rhapsodies and symphonies about how attractive you are.” Tilting her head, she examined him with soft eyes, “If I’m coming on too strong, tell me and I’ll leave.”
“No, I like it,” Rocket found himself saying, probably the influence of two and a half Gargleblasters, “Tell me what else you were thinking.”
“At one point in your talk,” Petra started with a wink and showing the tip of a kittenish tongue, “you licked your finger to turn the page in your notes, and I knew that I absolutely needed that tongue on my cl*t. Your voice, by the way, is gorgeous.”
“You like my voice,” he asked raising a skeptical eyebrow, “There’s nothing sexy about my voice.”
He frowned and looked down into his drink. Otta, his ex-wife, still lived rent free in his head. Your voice is so common and unrefined. Could you make an effort not to sound like vulgar smoker while we’re at this party? she’d say or, Ugh, you sound like you gargled sandpaper this morning. Make yourself some lemon and honey tea before you talk to me again.
“Baby,” Petra said as she lifted his head up and towards her with a finger, “They should bottle that voice and sell it like perfume. It’s so deep and rumbly. Listening to that smoky whiskey voice for an hour was sexual torture. I need to hear your voice from between my thighs before I die.”
Rocket’s face had burst into flames as soon as she touched him, but her words sent that fire racing through his body and right to his dick. He shuddered from his nose to the tip of his tail, and he licked his lips, letting it just the tip graze her finger. “You wanna hear my voice from between your thighs?” he asked then lowered his voice further, “I think we can make that happen.”
Petra’s eyes widened and lit up with delight and she inquired, “Your room or mine?”
“Mine,” Rocket decided quickly.
* * * * *
As they rode the elevator up to his room, Rocket watched their image in the glass mirror. He looked almost comically short compared to the tall svelte woman next to him. The hem of Petra’s short skirt hit just below his shoulders, and he bet she could reach down and scratch his ears without bending to the side. “Out of curiosity, how tall are you?”
“In the heels or without?” she smiled as she leaned against the wall, making her long legs seem even longer, the short skirt riding up just a bit higher.
“Both?” Rocket replied as he admired her shapely limbs.
“Flat footed, I’m six feet one inch, but the heels add an extra three inches. They make my legs look pretty amazing, huh?” she teased as she caught him staring.
“They do. I mean your legs are nice,” Rocket admitted as he put a hand behind his head, grateful that his fur kept her from seeing the blush on his heated cheeks.
“You are so awkwardly cute. That little wince you made when I called you out made me want to kiss you. It’s like everything you do is f*cking adorable.”
Rocket chuckled, one of his ears flicking in disagreement. “No one has ever called me cute before.”
“What?” Petra exclaimed, “You are so f*cking cute that it makes me want to ruin you. Between the fluff, your ears, and your rumpled dad get up, you are dangerously cute,” she told him as they stepped out of the elevator on his floor.
Rocket tapped his hand onto the bio-scan unit next to the door and gestured for Petra to enter the room before him. “Swanky,” she laughed, and as he closed the door Petra stopped in front of the massive bed weighed down with many decorative pillows and rich in blankets. “Okay, seriously, even if we weren’t gonna f*ck, this frilly monstrosity needs to be obliterated on principle.”
The laugh was out of Rocket’s mouth before he could control it. He covered his mouth quickly, stifling the sound. “You wanna knock the unnecessary pillows on the floor? Be my guest.”
Petra made a gleeful sound and shoved all but a few of the larger pillows off the bed to tumble to the ground in a heap, toed off her shoes, and then leapt up on the bed. She patted the space next to her and said, “Let’s talk some things out, and then destroy this bed, cutie.”
Rocket took off his own shoes and nimbly jumped up next to Petra. “What would you like to discuss?”
“Well, I think it’s important to set some ground rules before sex with a stranger, don’t you?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “Any hard ‘nos’ or anything you’d really like to do? For example, tonight the following things are not on the menu: bondage, anal, abandonment play, no extreme kinks without permission, and no visible marks on my arms or neck afterwards- I gotta go somewhere and be professional tomorrow.” Leaning forward and cupping his cheek, she added, “What I’d like most of all, is for you to keep your hot dad glasses on while we f*ck.”
Blinking, Rocket replied, “That was all very specific, but fine with me. Um, I guess, I- I’m not really into any of those things to be honest. I’m not sure what abandonment play even is… I don’t like to be restrained or hurt during sex? I guess I’d just like you to keep being nice to me? For us to have a good time?”
“Sure, daddy, I’ll be really sweet to you,” Petra smiled while pulling his tie out from where it was neatly tucked into his buttoned-up cardigan.
“The subject of father’s keeps coming up. You gotta daddy kink, sweetheart?” Rocket chuckled, his nerves flaring. He wasn’t used to this, having pretty girls in hotel rooms looking at him with hungry eyes.
Petra pulled a face, then laughed, “I think it’s impossible for me not to have daddy issues, but that’s not why I called you ‘daddy.’” Tilting her head, she examined him from lowered lashes. “You just look sweet, down-to-earth, like someone’s dad. Someone safe and cuddly.”
“Safe and cuddly, huh? Doesn’t sound like much of a compliment.”
“Safe and cuddly is highly underrated and sexy as hell,” she replied as she undid his tie and slid the cloth through his stiff collar. “If you want, I can call you Professor.”
Rocket caught her wrist, and said warmly in a deep honied voice, “How about you just call me Rocket.”
It was Petra’s turn to blink. “Rocket?”
“Yeah, it’s my name, the ‘R.’ in Professor R. Raccoon,” he returned a little shyly.
“f*ck, you just keep getting cuter,” Petra groaned and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, she took his face into both her hands and kissed him softly. He made a small noise of complaint as she pulled away. “Okay, Rocket, how do you feel about letting me strip you down?”
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
Rocket dragged her gently down for another kiss. Her lips felt so soft and warm against his, smooth like fine silk. He shivered when he felt the tip of her tongue brush the seam of his lips, and he opened his mouth to her, let her deepen the kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time someone kissed him like this with heat and want. When their tongues met, he moaned into it, leaned into her chasing the taste of the fruit in her drink, like pears and honey mixed with neroli and spice. Part of him was embarrassed that he was already hard and eager just from a kiss, but, mostly he was grateful for this chance to touch and be touched.
Her slim hands moved from his face to his chest, and she slowly began to undo the buttons of his cardigan, push the garment off his shoulders. “Oh,” Petra whispered as she massaged his shoulders and caressed his arms, sweeping off the cardigan and leaving him in just his shirt sleeves.
“You’re pretty buff under all these old man clothes. Your shoulders are so wide. Are you a secret hunk, Rocket?” Her tone was a little teasing but mostly full of overt admiration.
“I like to work out, stay fit,” he said before pressing his lips to hers again and giving her just the smallest nip to her lower lip. “Also, I’m not old. I’m thirty-seven.”
“You dress like you’re eighty-seven, like my grandpa,” Petra replied as she ducked her head and nipped then licked the edge of his ear. The electric touch had Rocket gasping and clutching at Petra’s arm.
“Your ears are the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” she whispered to him and then nibbled his ear again. “Can I pet them?” her hands were already poised to do so.
“Yeah, I like best when they’re rubbed at the base,” he instructed then melted once Petra began to knead the muscles there, pressing small circles against places he’d forgotten existed.
Almost drunkenly, Rocket tipped towards the blonde, eyes closing in ecstasy. The touch of her fingers and thumbs coaxed a small purr out of his throat. Petra let her hands cup his face, began rubbing his cheeks, his forehead with the most delightful, soothing attentions until his purr rang out and made his chest vibrate with the force of the sound.
When he opened his eyes again, Petra’s eyes were alight with gentle wonder. “Oh,” she said, “Darling, honey, aren’t you something special.” Her tender tone made Rocket’s heart and dick ache. He trembled a little under her appreciative gaze.
“Please,” he entreated her, reaching out for her, “don’t stop.”
“Don’t stop what?” she asked as she started to unbutton his shirt.
“Touching me, being nice to me.” Petra’s focus on him destroying him in the best ways. He’d never, never been admired like this, been so carefully attended, and it made him shiver, feel oddly vulnerable yet so incredibly good. He was an opened ribcage, bones split and raw heart beating under Petra’s adoring green eyes.
After the divorce and some therapy, he’d realized that Otta was a selfish lover, that all their encounters were primarily focused on her pleasure, her wants. All this metal on your chest and back is cold and ugly. Keep your shirt on, she would say. You’re lucky to have someone who will even let you lick their puss*, she’d growl if he started to stop because his jaw hurt or his tongue got tired. She hesitated and demurred to touch him where he was altered, and she would rarely take him in her hand, let alone her mouth.
“I won’t,” Petra reassured him. “Lean back against the pillow, I want to reach you a little easier.”
Rocket eased himself back against a couple of plump pillows; Petra followed him down, curling her body around him, laid on her side next to him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, right against some of the metal under the fur. He tensed, ready for rejection, but Petra just kissed him again in the same spot.
“It’s okay. Lots of people out in space have mods, prosthetics,” she whispered. Her fingertips tucked into his collar, caressed the struts that served as his collarbones. “If you don’t want me to touch you there, I won’t; but, I want you to know that none of it bothers me, makes me want you less.”
“No, I like to be touched there- it feels- it feels like I’m normal that you will.”
Instead of replying, Petra laid a feathery kiss against his throat. As she continued unbuttoning his shirt, she trailed a path with her lips down his throat and chest, even across the scars and burns. His shirt was all the way open, his torso fully exposed to Petra’s touch and eyes. She stroked a hand down his furred belly and teased the tips of her fingers into the waistband of his pants. “Can I touch your co*ck?” she asked as she smoothed a hand down a thigh, voice a bit breathless in its eagerness.
He closed his eyes and nodded then arched his hips up as she palmed his dick through his pants. Rocket hissed behind his teeth, groaning at the delicate exploration Petra stroked across his nerves.
“You feel amazing. I can’t wait to see you. I’m going to finish undressing you, but if I do anything you don’t like, I want you to tell me. You got a safe word, honey?”
“Constellation.” Rocket told her while she undid his belt.
“Pretty. Mine is ‘platypus,’” she replied, pressing kisses lower down on his belly, tongue tracing the outline of his dick through his pants.
“What’s a platypus? My translator just beeped when you said that.”
“Weird little Terran monotreme. They are cute as hell, but spicy. Kinda like you.” Petra replied as she unzipped him, pulled off his pants and his boxer briefs. It surprised him a little that she knew to unsnap the closure above his tail. “You have a pretty co*ck, Rocket.” she said letting a finger trace the length of him, gentle glancing touches that made him want to melt.
Rocket wrapped his fingers around her larger one, stopping her. “Before we do too much more, I think we should match. I wanna see you too.”
“You wanna undress me or would you like me to strip?” Petra asked.
“Strip,” he said. “I wanna keep my eyes all over you, sweetheart.” Rocket wanted to kiss her again for asking. He’d known her less than an hour, and she was already more considerate of his wants than any lover he’d ever had.
“You want me to put on a show? I give a great performance.” Petra smiled and winked as she hopped off the bed.
“You’re so gorgeous. I just like looking at you,” Rocket admitted with a little smile.
Shaking her blonde curls, Petra hummed a little under her breath* as she smiled at him. She danced a little in place, moving her hips in a sensuous rhythm. She tapped her red nails on the black buttons of her jacket in time to the song she hummed and flicked them open with practiced ease, and she tilted her shoulder and let her jacket slide down one side, slowly revealing a toned, shapely bare arm. Rocket watched wide-eyed as the jacket casually fell down the other arm onto the floor. All she had on underneath the jacket was a sleeveless royal blue corseted top.
With a smirk in his direction, Petra unzipped her skirt and worked it down her hips, still rocking with the beat of her song. The humming stopped and the beautiful woman in front of him revealed a cute black silk and lace thong and stockings held on with a garter belt. Rocket made a noise of appreciation in the back of his throat, and Petra favored him with a dazzling smile.
“I’m not wearing a bra under the top,” she confided in a faux shy tone as she turned so he could admire her perfect ass. She looked over her shoulder and asked, “You want it on or off?”
“Keep the panties and stockings on, but I’ll help you out of the corset. That’s a lot of hooks to undo.” Rocket was eager to see if her glowing skin was as smooth and soft as it looked.
“What a gentleman,” she smiled as she sidled up to the bed.
Rocket got up and walked over to her. Perched here on top of the high bed, he was taller than Petra. He took the chance to take her face in his hands and kiss her before directing her to turn around. “Lift your hair for me,” he said, whispering the words into her ear. Petra shivered and did as he said.
Before he started unhooking the fastenings of her corset, Rocket ran the side of his face against Petra’s neck, licked a hot line along her shoulder. Her skin tasted sweet to him, and it thrilled him to feel his fur stroke over her skin. Each hook undone added to the anticipation of seeing her out of her clothes, touching her. “You’re so beautiful. One of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen,” he told her as he tried not to moan at how soft the skin of her back felt on the pads of his fingers.
“Aw, not the prettiest?” she laughed, brushing off his compliments, but she sighed as he dragged a hand down her spine.
“Definitely the prettiest woman I’ve ever taken to bed,” he grinned as he undid the last of the fastenings. With a wicked intention in his mind, he leaned over and licked from the base of her spine up to between her shoulder blades making Petra gasp and drop the corset.
He took advantage of his momentary superior height and leaned over her shoulder to look down at her breasts. “You also have the nicest tit* I have ever had the pleasure to see.” Rocket threaded his arms around Petra’s ribcage. Careful of his claws, he tickled his way up to just beneath her breasts. “Can I touch?” He asked into her ear again.
“Yeah,” Petra replied, closing her eyes at the timbre of his voice, the sleek fur against her neck.
His hands fluttered up soft as butterflies as he cupped her breasts in his hands, weighed them in his palms. So soft, feels so good in my hands, Rocket thought to himself.
He’d only ever had a few humie lovers, and he’d always admired human breasts, found them alluring and seductive. The sexual dimorphism in humies was so much more extreme than in other sentient’s biology, and he’d always found himself particularly aware of how feminine, how very female, human women were.
He had a keen, probing scientific mind, and Rocket studied Petra’s breasts with his hands, cataloguing each sound she made, the way her heartbeat changed as he touched her. He plucked delicately at her nipples, teased, stroked, squeezed her breasts gently, and traced her skin with claws paying close attention not to leave a hint of a line or mark. The touch of his claws made her heart pound in her chest, had her making little mews.
“What do you like so much about my claws?” he asked her pressing a kiss to her neck, letting his teeth press against the flesh there.
“You’re being so careful with them. I can tell they’re sharp, but I know you won’t hurt me. I like when my partners listen to what I ask for,” she sighed as she brought up a hand to stroke his cheek. Slowly she turned in his arms so she could face him. “I love a good listener, Rocket.”
With that pronouncement, Rocket made a sharp noise as Petra’s hand brushed his co*ck. “Let’s make a fantasy come true. Sit on the edge of the bed, toss me your cardigan, and I’ll blow you.”
Normally, he’d just let his partner continue on; however, Petra made him feel safe enough to say, “Um, be very delicate with me when you use your hands. I- it’s usually protected in a sheath, so it’s very sensitive.”
“Sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she exclaimed, eyes wide and a hand coming to touch her mouth.
“No,” he reassured her, “but wetness is greatly appreciated. Too much friction hurts.”
“Sure, of course,” Petra nodded before co*cking her head and asking, “So, do I touch you through the sheathe then if I use my hand?”
“Yes, like this.” Emboldened, he demonstrated with his own hand, moving the sheathe up and with his dick.
“Can I try?” she asked. Rocket gave a nod of his head and then his hand was replaced with her larger one. She was a quick study as she deftly began to work him up and down.
“Ah, that’s perfect,” he purred, clutching her wrists.
“Bet this curve and hook here are gonna feel really good inside of me,” she grinned. After a while she said “I do really like it. It’s fun to play with, but I’d really like to get my mouth on it.”
The speed which Rocket moved to do as she said painted a smile across her face. “So goddamn cute,” she muttered as she took the proffered cardigan and spread it out on the floor for her to kneel on. “These f*cking leather elbow patches are destroying me,” she laughed.
“I’m glad my attire delights you so much,” he returned dryly as he edged his legs off of the bed, letting them dangle over the edge. He had to adjust his glasses as soon as he looked down at her, and pushed up the frames with a finger.
“You are a f*cking delight. Also, please keep fiddling with your glasses; that’s really doing it for me.” Petra’s green irises were obscured by her dilated pupils, and she licked her lips.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Rocket answered her with a nervous little gulp. He wasn’t used to his partners eye-f*cking him, but he could definitely get used to this intense attention. Sinking to her knees, Petra sat at eye level with his lap and stroked his thighs with her hands soothingly. “Can I touch your hair while you do it?” Rocket asked, wanting very much to feel the gold threads.
“Yeah, but, I don’t like being manhandled while I go down on someone. Petting is cool, playing with my hair also cool. If you want me to do something different, just tell me.”
“Okay,” he agreed readily. Honestly, he could count on one hand how many times he’d received oral sex, and the prospect of getting to experience it would have had him agreeing to a lot more stringent conditions than what she asked.
Leaning forward, Petra flicked her pink tongue up his dick with cute kitten like strokes. Rocket closed his eyes and almost lost his glasses, but he grabbed them just in time, shoving them up his nose. Below him, Petra snorted a little laugh before taking him in her mouth and swallowing him down to the base in one quick motion. Rocket swore with a little shout, the wet warmth of Petra’s mouth shocking and so, so good.
He wanted to bury his hands in her beautiful cornsilk hair but was afraid that he might accidentally pull it; instead, he fisted the duvet in his claws and lost himself to the bliss of having his dick sucked.
As she moved up and down his length, Petra wrung sounds out of him he never knew existed. When she came to the head, she let her tongue play with his slit, tease over him. Her hands were never still. She used them in conjunction with her mouth, petted his thighs, or delicately cupped his balls. When he moaned, she’d mirror the sound back at him, adding vibration to the other sensations. She kept her lips pursed and tight; the ring of it perfect and ruinous to his self-control and had him fighting not to buck his hips.
What really got Rocket going was her enthusiasm. Petra was having a good time. Her eyes were constantly on him, hot, willing, and eager. With every look and gesture, she let him know how happy she was to be there, let him feel her enjoyment in the tension of her hands and the tempo of her up and down movements.
“You’re so good at this. f*cking incredible,” he told her, finally daring to touch her golden hair, caress a smooth cheek with one hand while forcing his glasses back onto his face. She hummed back up at him and gave him a saucy, little wink. Of course, with Petra being so good at sucking dick, it also meant Rocket’s control was starting to wear thin. “Stop, please. I’m going to come if you keep that up.”
Petra pulled off his dick with a wet pop that would definitely become a reoccurring sound in his fantasies. “We can take a breather and come back to it,” Petra offered as she demurely wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, “I can keep going. You looked so hot trying not to look affected and then scrabbling to keep your glasses on.”
“As much as I’d like to take you up on that, I don’t want the night to be over so soon. Besides, you said you wanted to hear my voice from between your thighs.”
“I really, really do, cutie-pie,” Petra grinned as she stood up, “How do you want me?”
There she went again asking him what he wanted what he preferred. Each time it unfurled warmth and gratefulness in his belly, made his chest ache a little. “You’d look so nice and pampered lounging on those pillows,” he said pointing to the head of the bed.
He rolled out of her way, and he watched her climb up the bed and settle into place. Reclining a bit, her position would give him an excellent view of her face and breasts. “How attached are you to the stockings and panties, princess?” he inquired as he traced the pads of his fingers up a charming calf that he really wouldn’t mind nibbling on.
“Platypus,” Petra gasped looked up at him in muted horror.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry. It was a bad idea,” Rocket panicked pulling back and clutching his hands together. “We will take good care of-”
“You can tear my clothes to pieces if you want, but don’t ever call me that again,” Petra told him, her soft face hard and forbidding. Her voice the cold of space and the empty places between stars.
“Call you what?” Rocket asked; he couldn’t even remember what he’d inadvertently called her.
“Princess. Do not call me that.” Petra crossed her arms across her chest and looked away from him, and Rocket could swear he saw her lower lip tremble.
“I’m so sorry,” he said resting a hand on her knee, “I won’t. I promise,” he continued stroking his hand gently over the joint.
“No, I’m sorry. That word just has bad connotations for me is all. You didn’t know,” Petra’s voice was husky and a little tremulous. She rested her hand on top of his. “If I ruined the mood completely, and you want me to leave, then I’ll understand.”
Rocket leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’d rather you stay. We can keep going, or we could just cuddle and watch a holovid. Whatever you want.” He hoped she wanted to stay. He gave her knee one last lingering touch.
Even with the protective sheer stockings, the skin of her knees had the imprint from the knitted design of his cardigan. The sight of it caught in his chest, tugged on his heartstrings, made him want. He needed to trace the patterns on her skin with his tongue, rub his teeth against them.
“Can we pretend I didn’t freak out and safe word?” Petra asked eyes wide and completely vulnerable.
“Yeah,” Rocket murmured as he straddled her legs to sit on her lap, “Of course, we can.” He lowered himself against her, naked skin to naked fur. He stretched up to kiss her as soft as flower petals. Petra sighed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around him as he raised his to encircle her neck.
Oh, he thought as they kissed, I think this one might be hard to say goodbye to. He shook the thought out of his mind and forced himself to focus on the here and now as he licked into her mouth. She was a good kisser, adjusting her head minutely so their mouths could meet easier, and she knew how to be careful of his sharp teeth.
One of Petra’s hands teased down his back, pressing his vertebrae in light careful touches and reaching down to palm his ass. “You have a nice ass,” she breathed in between kisses. The compliment warmed his belly, and he smiled a little shyly into their next kiss. She giggled as his whiskers brushed her cheek.
Rocket stopped her laughter in her throat when his hands lowered to her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples, then fingers plucking a little harder. “How rough do you like being played with here?” he asked laving a tongue over a pebbled nipple.
“Well, since I’ll be all covered up there tomorrow, I wouldn’t mind a souvenir to remember you by. You could suck some pretty bruises to the undersides, pinch or slap them lightly. Just build up to it.” Petra suggested.
A velvet growl leaked out of his throat at her words, as he brought her breasts together, weighed them in his hands. He sucked one nipple into his mouth then gradually increased the suction until Petra cried out. He released her from his mouth then treated the second one the same. He worked a nipple deftly between two fingers and smacked the underside of the other with a light smack.
“You can be rougher,” Petra sighed, her head tilting back as he slapped her a little harder, tweaked a little meaner. He squeezed her left breast and landed a blow on the bottom of the right that had her gasping. When he added his tongue to the mix, he had her squirming against him, hands buried in the fur of his head and holding him close.
“Can you be a good girl for me and hold still?” he questioned holding up his hand so she could see the weapons on the ends of his fingers. “I wanna run these across your skin, but I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can be a good girl for you, daddy,” she grinned and sat still as he ran his sharp claws along the undersides of her breasts. The smirk fell from her lips, and Petra had to close her eyes against the feel of him. She froze in place, holding her breath as he glanced the faintest edge against her nipples.
Petra had her lower lip in her teeth to suppress a shaky little sob as Rocket traced over the tops of her breasts, between them, and down her belly to hook teasingly into the lacy top of her panties. He leaned forward and sucked and bit at the curving flesh, excited that he’d be leaving his mark on her with dark, flowering bruises.
Rocket glanced up and Petra’s eyes were wide and shining as she watched him run the dangerous points of his claws across her skin. “Can I scratch you, just a little?” he asked.
Petra’s eyes fluttered close again, “Yeah, but not the nipples.”
The expression of desire and keen anticipation on her face made Rocket bury his face between her breasts and groan. He was so hard and aching where he pressed into her lower belly, How is she so f*cking perfect, and how the f*ck did I get this flarkin’ lucky?
He pressed his claws against the top of one breast just hard enough to raise red lines but not to draw blood; he followed the path of his claws with his tongue, softening the sting. Rocket wanted more, wanted to scratch and lick and suck more hickeys underneath her tit*, but he was also afraid. He didn’t want to scare her away, frighten her. Instead, he pressed a kiss between her breasts, and said, “You still want to hear my voice from between your legs, gorgeous?”
Petra let out a long breath and said shakily, “Yes, Rocket. You are so f*cking cute up there, watching me with your pretty ruby eyes gone all round and wide.”
“Oh?” he inquired unable to look away from her face, her breasts. He couldn’t get enough of looking at her.
“Yeah, as cute as your dad-glasses are, I think your eyes are even prettier.” She took the glasses off his face and set them reverently aside on the bedside table.
“I thought you wanted them on-” Rocket started to say, but Petra cut him off.
“Oh, honey, you’re more than handsome enough without them. Besides, I don’t want to risk them getting broken.”
The handsome comment lit a fire in his chest and loins. “You still okay with me tearing up your pretty panties and stockings?” he asked, voice dropping his baritone voice to the timbre of a rumbling thunderstorm.
“Please,” she asked her thighs shaking a little.
“How you feel about a little dirty talk?” he asked. Otta didn’t like him to talk when they’d been intimate; she hated his voice. Earlier, Petra had said she liked his voice, thought it was sexy.
“f*ck yeah, pour some sugar on me, daddy,” she winked. Rocket tilted his head in bafflement. “Call me your dirty girl, your filthy little slu*t.”
Pressing his face into her inner thigh, Rocket chuckled, his laugh a draught of darkest, smokiest bourbon, “You filthy, dirty girl. I’m gonna rip the rest of your clothes off with my teeth and claws. Then, I’m gonna tongue f*ck you until you beg for my dick.”
“I’m so good at begging too,” she purred back, squeezing her breast together with her arms.
“Mind your manners, cheeky slu*t, or daddy might punish you,” He warned scratching up a calf just deeply enough to slice through the thin silk of her stockings. Petra closed her eyes at either the ripping sound, the threat of his claws, or just the abrasive velvet purr of his words.
While he shredded the silk on one leg, he narrowly avoided nipping her and grabbing the silk on the opposite inner thigh. Petra squeaked as he pulled the fabric taunt until it began to rip with a sound like tearing flesh. Rocket darted forward and grabbed another bit of cloth, worried it between his teeth and let it snap back against her. Bit by bit, he destroyed her stockings until she was only left in the lacy tops held in place by the garter belt.
Petra was shivering all over, and Rocket loved it. He loved the expression of anticipation and want shining on her face. He palmed her panty covered vulva with his hand, cupped it to feel the shape of it through the silk. “You gotta wet spot, sweetheart. Course, I could smell you getting’ wet and ruining those panties,” he went on with a smirk. He dipped a claw into the band of her panties and pulled it away before letting it snap back into place and surprising a little breathy sound out of her throat.
“I had to change underwear right after your lecture, nearly soaked through them just listening to you pontificate,” Petra admitted.
Rocket had to close his eyes at that sexy little confession. “I’m gonna bite your panties right off of you, you messy whor*.” He laid down between her legs, and pressed his teeth against her puss*. “You know how else I knew you were ready for me?” he asked before rubbing his teeth against her trembling slit.
“How?” she asked in a stuttering, hitching inhalation.
“I could hear your heartbeat absolutely thundering in your adorable little puss*. She’s purring along like an engine ready to be driven hard.” He told her while giving her outer lips the most careful scrapes of his canines before snatching the cloth in his mouth and pulling while giving a little snarl.
Rocket pulled until she started to make noise and shook his head, jerking her back and forth like he was trying to kill a small and tasty prey animal. Petra stared down at him with heat and a thin sharp edge of fear. He let his teeth click shut and bite through the material and exposed her.
Gods above, she’s every bit as cute here as she is everywhere else, he thought, and then he grinned a wide, wicked grin that showed all of his teeth. “Baby-girl, you look good enough to eat. I gonna devour you,” he growled feeling the fur on the back of his neck rise and ruffle with the surge of wildness flooding through him.
“Please,” was all Petra could say, so she gulped, closed her eyes and breathed in. “Please,” she began again, “Please, daddy, eat me up.”
Rocket lunged forward and attacked her with his tongue, lapping at her as if she was the last drink of water in the universe. He groaned against her. She tasted and smelled like spring, and she was making noises that spurred him on even further. Sucking on her cl*t, Rocket was pulling the most delicious noises out of her. As Petra was climbing close to org*sm, he pulled back with a mean little laugh.
“Rocket,” she whined as he withdrew, mournful and longing for him.
“I told you I’d punish you, cheeky slu*t. I told you I was gonna lick your sloppy c*nt until you were cryin’ and beggin’ for me to f*ck you.” Rocket growled then snapped at her warningly.
“Rocket, please,” she whined again as he began to leisurely f*ck her with his tongue while he ground his nose into her cl*t, rubbing and circling it. She’d had him fast and messy, now she was getting the gentlest, teasing flicks of his tongue on her cl*t. Petra thrashed against him until he grabbed her hips and held her down. She was calling his name, dragging out the vowels.
“That ain’t beggin’, doll. That’s just complaining. Try again,” he grinned against her and dragged his tongue up the whole length of her slit with torturous slowness then sucked on her inner lips while he hummed under his breath.
“Rocket! Oh my God! Rocket! Please!” she cried out.
He just laughed against her wet puss*. “Nope, still not good enough, sweet thing, but do keep tryin’.”
Rocket kept on giving every bit of her c*nt the attention she needed, and he wasn’t going to let Petra come until he was good and ready. “You’re lucky my claws are too sharp today. If I’d have known that you’d be here, I’d have filed them down for you. Can you imagine how good it would feel to have my fingers playing with your perfect pink puss* at the same time as my mouth?”
Petra made a wounded hurt noise in reply, and Rocket just went back to licking and sucking and f*cking her with his mouth. “Rocket I need you. I need you to f*ck me, please.”
He looked up and saw pretty diamond tears on the gold of her lashes from frustration and overstimulation. “Good girl,” he purred and rewarded her by sucking on her cl*t.
He worried the little nub of flesh with careful lips between devastating suction. Petra cried out her climax, shuddering as she splintered and broke into shards of shattered hard candy, but that wasn’t enough for Rocket. He bore down on her with his rough tongue, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure out of her body. Petra swore as her whole body filled with molten heat and liquid flame. She called out his name again, and it was the prettiest thing Rocket had heard in years.
When he finally sat up, he was wet from nose to chin, and Petra was a quivering, shaking mess. He gave her a little swat to her adorable c*nt, and she arched her back and gave him a little noise that rode the edge between enjoyment and shock. He did it again, this time with an extra flick in his wrist and she squealed for him.
“You didn’t mind me playing with you a little more, did you?” he asked lightly as he rubbed her thigh, marveling at how she was even softer than the silk she’d been wearing.
“Not at all, in fact, you could do that again a couple more times,” she suggested languidly, spreading her thighs a little wider.
Rocket didn’t hesitate, he swatted her delicately right between her legs and had her scrabbling to keep still underneath him. “Oh,” she cried out. “Oh, that’s oh!” she started to say, but her voice cut off as he slapped her with a little more force. She squirmed and writhed then flattened on her back gasping for breath. “Oh my God,” she said shaking.
“You good, doll? I didn’t break ya did I?” Rocket inquired a sh*t-eating grin quirking at the side of his mouth.
Petra groaned and tilted her head back into the pillow, and then she laughed low and full. “I’m gonna need a minute to pull myself together, and then I’m going to f*ck you silly,” she told him.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Rocket teased back. “I’m ready whenever you are,” he added with a gesture to his leaking co*ck.
Rocket gulped as Petra licked two fingers and a thumb then skated them up and down his dick in light teasing strokes. “Such a nice dick, all pretty and pink and just drooling for me,” Petra grinned as she circled his slit with her thumb, gathering the pre-come welling up from the tip. “Tell me, Rocket, could you handle me on top of you, or am I too big to do that?”
“My entire pelvis is vibranium alloy, and I’m a lot stronger than I look. You can bounce on my dick as hard as you want. You won’t hurt me, sweetheart.”
“Perfect,” she said as she raised up and urged him down onto his back with a gesture and her hand on his chest. She moved and was on her hands and knees looking down at him with a grin. She came up to straddle his legs, “I’m gonna f*ck you so good, cutie,” she told him as she guided him inside her, sighing as she sank down on his co*ck.
Rocket hissed between his teeth as he slipped inside her, “Ah, you’re so tight, I thought I’d gotten you more ready than that.”
“Oh, you got me more than ready, honey,” Petra smiled down at him as she rose back up and down gently, getting the feel of him, how they came together. She moved experimentally as if afraid she would hurt him. “This okay? Feel good?” she asked, doing something with her hips that tested his willpower to be good.
Rocket wasn’t used to a lover that consistently checked in on him, was careful of him. As much as he wanted to give in grab her by those luscious hips and ram up inside her, he liked the slow sensuous pace she set. “Yeah, sweetheart, keep doin’ what you’re doin’,” he replied as he stretched his neck to lick a nipple that bobbed almost out of reach.
In the elevator, he’d imagined this as a quick fevered encounter; he hadn’t counted on her being so sweet, rising and falling on his dick like an angel. She had her hands buried in his fur, fingers rubbing into the muscles of his neck and shoulders. When he raised his head again, he saw her smiling down at him. She leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his nose. The movement shifted her hips and her whole body shuddered as the hooked end of his co*ck glanced over the most sensitive place inside of her. “Holy sh*t, Rocket.”
“You like that doll?” he hissed as he lifted her by the hips as he thrust up inside her, angling for the same place again and shocking a cry out of her mouth. Petra. She made a wordless cry of assent. Now it was his turn to take the up the reigns. Gripping her hips a little meanly, letting her feel the edges of his claws, Rocket f*cked up inside her, moving faster and gliding into her with more force.
Petra started to move with him, slamming down as he jerked upwards. Rocket showed her his teeth in a growl of possessiveness as they moved together, low in his stomach a line of tension coiled tighter and tighter. He reached between them to find her cl*t with his fingers, teasing glances at first building into a frantic circling. The org*sm hit her roughly, without warning and sending her tumbling relentlessly into the sensation. She closed her eyes and clutched Rocket tightly in her arms and with her c*nt.
He knocked the loveliest sounds from her throat, and when he moved his fingers away, she keened for them back. Instead of his fingers, he pressed his thumb against her scrubbing more roughly, freeing a cry from her lungs. “You sing so pretty for me,” Rocket crooned gritting his teeth against the feeling of her fluttering around him, gripping him so, so tight. He worked her through the first org*sm, and he asked, “Think you can go again, baby-girl? Think you can come on daddy’s dick one more time?”
“I’ll be good for you,” she answered breathily. Moving with a speed and strength he hadn’t imagined her possessing, she flipped them over so that he was suddenly looking down at her. What a picture she made spread out before him: hair a wild mess of curls on the pillow, heaving flushed chest, arms reaching out for him, begging for his dick, lips red and swollen from being bitten.
You have no idea how good you’ve been for me, doll, he thought before he began to rail her in earnest. He couldn’t focus long on any one part of her, her pretty face, her fantastic tit*: she was a buffet for his starving eyes, a feast for his hungry paws. He angled his thrusts to hit that spot inside her again, and it had the added benefit of grinding his fur against her cl*t, abrading and scuffing at that delicate flesh. He was so close, too close, but he held it together long enough to get her nearly crying again as she came for a second time, squirming underneath him.
“You’d better come inside of me,” Petra gasped up at him as she gripped the base of his tail and squeezed. The line of tension in his abdomen snapped, and his sight blinked black as he came in frenzied thrusts, coming and coming inside of her.
Rocket collapsed against her and groaned. He didn’t pull out right away, because she was still clenching and squeezing him. She felt too good inside to leave. Only when the sensation became overwhelming, did he finally move his hips away from hers.
“You’re something else, sweetness.” Petra told him, raising her hips so that Rocket slid down her body enough so she could cuddle him close in her arms. All he could manage in return was wordless moan of contentment. For some time, they lay on the bed together. Petra eventually broke the silence and asked, “You wanna take a shower with me?” Rocket perked up immediately. He very much wanted to shower with her.
* * * * *
Half awake, Rocket frowned, his nose scrunched up and his eyebrows knitted together. His nose twitched as he smelled the fading remains of an intoxicating scent. Pressing his nose into the pillow next to him, Rocket breathed in deeply, drawing the scent across his Jacobson organ and letting it roll sensuously over his tongue: orange blossoms, honey, vanilla, the slightest, sweetest feminine musk. He wanted to wrap himself in the smell, swim and drown in it. What a way to go. The inner animal in him luxuriated in olfactory bliss, but his higher functions took a while longer to kick in.
Rocket reached out his arms to grab and pull the source of that ambrosia scent to himself, to bury himself in the source; however, all that his arms found was a downy pillow and a cold indent in the soft bedding. “Petra,” he said as he awoke fully, voice an iron rasp drawn against mahogany wood.
She’s gone. They’d f*cked again in the shower that night, and sometime before dawn, Petra had woken him up to f*ck again. But that wasn’t really true. In the shower had been so fun and playful, and, that morning, well, that had been the closest he’d ever felt to being loved in his whole life. She’d made love to him languidly, rolling her hips to some beautiful melody that only she could hear. She’d pulled sounds out of him he didn’t know existed. She’d told him he was beautiful, that he was special.
A low whine began to bubble up his throat, but Rocket viciously forced it down from the pit of sadness it welled up from. He should be counting his lucky stars that he got to even have her for a night. Of course she’s gone. No one stays. Not Otta, not Jack, not my love, my beautiful Ly-. No. He refused to open that particular box of pain today. He still had one more lecture to give that afternoon, and he couldn’t afford to be emotionally distraught.
He forced himself to breathe in and out, to count the beats between inhale and exhale like he’d been taught. Ground yourself. Feel your heartbeat slow. Breathe in and out. Slowly, Rocket managed to pull himself out of the spiral of panic before it could take full hold of him. He’d gotten particularly good at stopping a panic attack before it started, recognizing the early stages in advance.
Opening his eyes, he sighed and looked around the room. Petra was gone, but that was okay. That was what a one-night stand was- one night’s fun all evaporated by dawn. He shook his head and felt around on the nightstand for his glasses. Once he could properly see, he felt better, more himself.
Sleeping next to Petra’s warm body had been the best he’d felt in a long, long time. He half remembered her sweet kiss goodbye, how she’d pressed her lips between his ears and stroked his face. “Bye, cutie-pie. I wish I could stay and buy you breakfast, but I have to get ready for an important meeting. I wish I could get out of it. f*ck, I wish I could tuck you in my suitcase and take you back home with me. Maybe we’ll see each other at another conference, huh?” She’d kissed his cheek and he’d rolled over to catch her hand.
“I’d like to see you sometime,” Rocket told her, half asleep, so drowsy he could hardly keep his eyes open.
“Pretty thought, huh?” she whispered in his ear.
Rocket didn’t answer, sleep pulling him back under in a wave of irresistible somnolence. He could almost swear she kissed him again before she left.
Rocket glanced at the chronometer, and saw that it was close to planetary midday. It was time to get up, eat, and prepare for his last lecture. He stretched before hopping off the bed and making his bleary way to the shower.
As Professor R. Raccoon let hot water pour over his head and down his back, he missed something he probably would have liked to know. If he had turned on the room’s mounted holo-player and tuned into the news, he would have seen the woman his thoughts couldn’t turn away from.
Today was a historic day in Xandarian history; there was to be a new trade agreement with the Spartax Empire. Acting as representative for Emperor J’son was his daughter and heir apparent, one Princess P’tra of Spartax.** Over lunch she and Nova Prime would sign the treaty into law.
As Petra shook the hand of Nova Prime, she quelled the melancholy bubbling up from her heart. Personal feelings had no place in matters of state. Besides, if she wanted to be able to keep up with her studies, she had to put on a damn good show. She flashed brilliant white teeth as she smiled down at Nova Prime. She was going to negotiate the f*ck outta this treaty, and she wasn’t going to let a couple of caught feelings get in her way. No point in getting upset over someone she’d probably never see again.
Little did either of them know that Professor R. Raccoon’s upcoming sabbatical was as a guest professor for a semester at the Xavier Institute of Technology on Arakko, the university of one Petra Jane Quill.
