Curiosity got the better of him. That and determination both.
Megatron smelled so sweet and tart, like Rodimus’ favorite berry. Of course, he had to have a taste, to cease suckling Megatron’s clava and instead bury his face against his mate’s antrum.
Rodimus moaned as he plunged his tongue into Megatron’s slit and slurped up pearls of slick. Megatron was so warm and wet and he tasted good. Rodimus kept licking, deeper and deeper, not caring that his face was now smeared by Megatron’s slick.
Megatron’s hips bucked. He made a strangled sound and then an honest whimper. His antrum rippled around Rodimus’ tongue as though begging for more. His clit-nub throbbed against Rodimus’ nose, demanding attention.
Rodimus greeted it as well. First with a kiss, then with a lick, then with a suck.
Megatron rolled up to meet his mouth, whimpering again. “Rodimus, please…” he moaned.
“More?” Rodimus guessed before he nibbled gently on Megatron’s nub.
Megatron gasped. Fabric tore audibly. He bucked sharply.
“Yes, my liege,” he purred and returned to his meal, his core fluttering at the sight of his strong and powerful bara-mate becoming a trembling mass of need.
He licked deep into Megatron. He sucked on the edges of his mate’s slit. He played with that little nub until Megatron writhed beneath him and came with a hoarse shout.
Slick flowed freely from his antrum now and Rodimus lapped it up.
“Mmm. tasty,” he murmured before Megatron abruptly sat up and grabbed him.
Rodimus squawked as Megatron’s lips descended hungrily over his, devouring him. Rodimus purred and clutched at his mate. He’d done good, he supposed.
Very, very good.
“My turn,” Megatron growled against his lips, exuding heat like a promise.
He couldn’t wait.