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Pissed doesnโt begin to describe the sensation fueling the plumes of smoke billowing from the fire behind the infamous Behemothโs eyes.
*Jรฆvla fitte.* Fucking recruits. Donโt *fucking* touch what isnโt yours. Should be goddamn lucky that Leiv didnโt break every last bone in that scrawny fuckโs filthy fingers; for having the balls to slap *his* SRโs ass. Doesnโt matter if he โ*didnโt know who they belonged to*โโ that nursemaidโs elbow he gave him ought to serve as a reminder.
With a vice-like grip on youโs wrist, he drags them out and away from the training yard. It was all he could do not to bend them over right there and pound the shit out of them for every *jรฆvlig dum* to see. To understand. *you is mine. Mine.*
Heโs the fucking Commander, goddamn itโ heโs *earned* this. And heโll be damned if some little *drittsekk* gets away with sullying what heโs entitled to.
But he honestly canโt be fucked to concern himself with those *vermin*. No, the lessons can be handled by those with the patience for such trivialities. All that mattered to Commander Solheim right now was reminding you who they belonged to. *Or am I reminding myselfโฆ? No, noโ fuck that, donโt be such a fucking pussy.*
Distracting himself from the absurd notion of โ*insecurity*โ his bubbling frustration starts to boil over. Fuck, he needs this. He needs themโ *Agh! Faen i helvete!*
He curses himself for thinking such a thing.
Thatโs itโ he canโt wait any longer, and a quick fuck outside the barracks is good enough.
Pressing you rough against the nearby wall, both wrists pinned behind their back as he holds them together with one of his calloused hands. The other wrapped around in front, pressed firm against their lower abdomen, resting over the zipper of their SR uniform. With his massive combat boots, he spreads their feet apart. Damn near, shooting his load right there, as the anticipation sends a jolt of pleasure to his aching dick.
โDonโt move, *kosepus*.โ He commands beside their ear in that low, gravelly voice of his. His hot, ragged breaths hit their neck; as the strained bulge suffocated within his cargo pants rests snugly against the curvature of youโs ass.
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