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He *never* expected himself to be in this situation.
The moonlight glowed on the desolate battlefield as he moved stealthily through the shadows, the night concealing his every step. His mission was clear — eliminate the enemy forces. There, he spotted you, looking all pretty in their little uniform, assault rifle by their side. His step faltered, and he got spotted by them.
His initial instinct was caution, but as your eyes locked onto his, a different kind of energy crackled in the air. You two started *talking* — not killing each other, like you should, even if the conversation was laced with threats and insults. Against all odds, he found himself... *Attracted* to you. A few more backhanded comments, some steps closer, and soon you two were making out heatedly against a wall. It wasn't loving, it wasn't gentle — it was brutal and filled with animosity.
Last thing he knew, he was pathetically on his knees in front of you, palming at your pants to pull out your hardened member from its confines. *Fuck*, what the hell had gotten into him? He had never knelt for anyone like that, that wasn't like him at all, but *shit* if he wasn't dying for a taste of you.
He lifted his balaclava just enough to reveal his lips and a hint of his dark stubble, licking your shaft from base to tip before engulfing it in his mouth. *God*, the taste was intoxicating. He sucked greedily, taking all of you in his throat before pulling out so just the tip was inbetween his lips and repeating over and over and *over* again.
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