4. Chapter 4
Gunner found Gabriela in the lab at damn near midnight, hunched over Gao's research files, eyes red from exhaustion and crying.
Another defector had died that morning. Vasquez had held the man's hand while he coughed black blood and stopped breathing. Thirty-six left now. Degrading faster every week.
Gabriela blamed herself.
He could smell her from the doorway—exhaustion, stress hormones, pregnancy hormones, and underneath it all, the desperate arousal she'd been ignoring for days.
Two months pregnant and her body was a mess of competing needs: work, rest, and the biological imperative to be bred that pregnancy hormones amplified rather than satisfied.
She didn't look up when he entered. Just stared at the screen, fingers trembling on the keyboard.
"I'm close," she said quietly. "Just one more hour…"
"Stop." Gunner crossed to her workstation. Reached past her. Shut down the terminal.
"No! I was almost—"
He picked her up from the chair. Just lifted her, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. She weighed nothing—five-foot-three and maybe one-ten soaking wet, even with the pregnancy weight.
She squirmed. "Put me down. I need to—"
"You need to let me take care of you."
The command in his tone broke something in her. She stopped fighting. Buried her face against his neck. Started crying with hard sobs that shook her small frame.
Gunner carried her out of the lab, down the hall toward their quarters. She clung to him, fingernails digging into his shoulders.
"I can't save them," she choked out. "They just keep dying—"
"It's not your fault." He kicked open the door to their quarters. Warm. Quiet. The bed already made.
He set Gabriela on the bed. She tried to get up immediately.
"I should go back."
"No." He caught her wrists. Looked at her with enhanced senses cataloguing everything: pupils dilated from exhaustion and arousal, skin flushed hot, breathing fast. Her tits had swollen with pregnancy—heavy C-cups now, straining against the thin shirt.
Dark nipples peaked and visible through the fabric.
She was soaking. He could smell it. Pussy wet and ready, pregnancy keeping her in a near-constant state of need that she kept ignoring.
"When's the last time you slept?" he asked.
She looked away. "Two days. Maybe three."
"When's the last time I fucked you?"
Her face went red. "Four days."
"Too long."
"I've been working."
"And your body's been screaming at you." Gunner's voice dropped. "You're pregnant. Enhanced. Your hormones are making you desperate and you've been ignoring it because you think work is more important."
Gabriela's breathing quickened. "I just want to stop feeling like I'm failing—"
"I'll make you stop thinking entirely. You need to relax. You’re no good to the patients if you can’t focus."
He kissed her. Hard. Demanding. She opened her mouth immediately, melted against him, made a desperate sound that went straight to his cock.
When he pulled back, she was panting. Her hands fumbled at his shirt.
He stripped her fast. Ripped the thin shirt over her head, revealing those swollen tits—heavy, full, nipples dark brown and hard as bullets. She tried to cover herself but he caught her hands.
"Don't." He pushed her back on the bed. "I want to see what I did to you."
Her face flushed darker. "I'm bigger. Everything's swollen—"
"Everything's perfect." He stripped her pants and underwear off in one rough motion. She was bare beneath him now, small and pregnant and dripping wet.
The pregnancy had changed everything. Her skin was flushed pink across her chest and throat, warmer to the touch. Her belly had just started to round—barely visible unless you knew to look. Her pussy was swollen, lips puffy and dark, already glistening with arousal that had been building for days.
Gunner spread her thighs wide. Pinned them open with his hands, enhanced strength making it effortless.
Gabriela tried to close her legs. "Wait, I'm too wet, I haven't showered—"
"Good. I want to taste how desperate you are."
He put his mouth on her pussy and she screamed.
She tasted like sex and pregnancy hormones and sweet feminine musk. Richer than before, headier. The pregnancy made everything more intense—more responsive, more sensitive, more everything.
He used his tongue with surgical precision. Licked from her entrance up to her clit, slow and firm. She bucked against his face, tried to grind harder. He held her down, controlled the pace, made her take what he gave and nothing more.
She gasped. "Gunner, please—"
He sucked her clit into his mouth. Hard. She nearly came off the bed.
"Fuck! Dios mío, fuck—"
He worked her with his tongue. Circled her clit, teased it, then sucked hard again while two fingers slid into her tight heat. She was soaking, dripping down his hand, making obscene wet sounds as he finger-fucked her.
Tight. So fucking tight even two months pregnant. Her pussy squeezed his fingers like a vice, already trying to milk him. Enhanced senses read her body—heart rate spiking, temperature rising, muscles tensing for orgasm.
He curled his fingers up. Found that spot inside her. Pressed.
Gabriela came screaming Spanish curses.
Don't stop. He didn't.
He kept his fingers buried in her pussy, kept pressing that spot, while his mouth worked her clit through the orgasm. She thrashed against the bed, tried to close her thighs, tried to push him away from overstimulation.
He held her down. Kept going.
"Too much," she sobbed. "I can't, it's too—"
Second orgasm hit her before the first finished. She went rigid, back arching, a high desperate sound tearing from her throat. Her pussy clenched around his fingers so tight he could barely move them. Fluid gushed over his hand, soaking the bed beneath her.
When she finally went limp, she was shaking. Crying. Overwhelmed.
Gunner pulled his fingers out. They were slick, dripping with her arousal. He brought them to his mouth. Tasted her while she watched.
"Delicious," he said.
Gabriela made a broken sound. Her thighs were still spread, pussy red and swollen and dripping. Her tits heaved with each breath, nipples so hard they looked painful.
"I need you inside me," she begged. Voice wrecked. "Please. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me and fill me and—"
Gunner stripped. Fast. His cock was painfully hard, pre-cum leaking from the tip. Enhanced arousal meant he was thick, heavy, ready to breed.
Gabriela's eyes went wide when she saw him. "Dios mío."
"You can take it. You've done it before."
"I'm pregnant. I'm tighter. You're going to split me open—"
"Good."
He positioned himself between her spread thighs. Read her baby's heartbeat through enhanced senses—steady, strong, unaffected. Angle calculated to protect the belly while still giving her everything she needed.
He lined up. Pressed the head of his cock against her entrance.
Gabriela was tight. Impossibly tight. Pregnancy made her pussy swollen and sensitive, squeezing even before he entered. He pushed forward slowly, watching her face as he stretched her open.
Her mouth fell open. Eyes going wide. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, you're so big—"
"Breathe."
"Can't. You're too—"
He pushed deeper. Felt her pussy resist, then give, yielding inch by inch. The wet heat of her wrapped around him like a fist. Tight and slick and perfect.
"That's it," he growled. "Take my cock. All of it."
"I can't. It's too much. You're too thick and I'm too tight and—"
He thrust the rest of the way in. Buried himself to the base in one hard stroke.
Gabriela screamed. Back arching, tits bouncing, nails raking down his arms hard enough to draw blood.
Not pain. Overwhelming fullness. Pleasure so intense she couldn't process it.
Gunner held still. Let her adjust. Felt her pussy flutter and squeeze around him, trying to accommodate his size. She was molten inside, slick and hot and gripping him so tight he had to fight not to come immediately.
"Dios mío," she gasped. "I can feel you in my throat. You're so deep. So fucking deep—"
"That's because you're made for this." Gunner's voice was rough. "Made to take my cock. Made to carry my child. Made to be bred over and over until your belly's swollen and your tits are leaking and everyone knows you're mine."
Gabriela moaned. Her pussy clenched harder around him.
"You like that," he said. Not a question.
"Yes." She was crying again. Good tears this time. "Yes. I'm yours. Breed me. Fuck me. Use me. I don't care, just move, please move—"
Gunner started to thrust. Slow at first. Careful. Reading her body's responses with enhanced senses, making sure the angle protected the baby.
She wrapped her legs around him. Dug her heels into his ass. Pulled him deeper.
"Fuck me like you mean it," she demanded. Voice raw. "Like you're putting another baby in me. Like you're claiming me all over again. Harder. Fuck me harder—"
Something in Gunner's control snapped.
He pulled out almost completely. Slammed back in.
Gabriela screamed.
He did it again. And again. Hard, deep thrusts that made the bed shake, made her tits bounce, made obscene wet sounds fill the room. Her pussy was dripping, soaking them both, making it easy to drive deep.
"Yes! Fuck! Just like that!" She was babbling now, switching between Spanish and English. "Más duro. Harder. Fuck me harder. Split me open. Breed me—"
Gunner fucked her with enhanced strength. Each thrust calculated to hit deep without harming the baby, but hard enough to make her see stars. Her pussy gripped him like it was trying to keep him inside, squeezing rhythmically with each stroke.
"Touch yourself," he ordered.
"What?"
"Your clit. Touch it. I want to feel you come on my cock."
Gabriela's hand slipped between them. Found her clit. Started rubbing.
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, I'm close. I'm so close—"
"Then come. Squeeze my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."
She came with a scream that probably woke half the settlement. Her pussy clamped down on him like a vice, rhythmic pulses trying to milk his cock. Fluid gushed around him, soaking his thighs, dripping onto the bed.