She’s not exactly sure how they got here, but she’s sure she’s not going to complain about it. Not when she has Starscream on his knees, plating shining in the evening light pouring through his ridiculous office window, choking on her spike like he was built for this.
She’d come to his office in search of a signature on her latest energy usage report for the third and fourth districts. Sure, she’d been a bit keyed up, a bit tense from a day of dealing with political billshit, but she hadn’t known how close she was to snapping until Starscream had set her off. She can’t even remember what he’d said, but she’d snapped back, he’d stepped into her space, and then she had him on his knees.
Whatever. Not worth worrying about now, not when she’s got him here, throat squeezing her so perfectly. His stupid, gorgeous face is covered in oral and optical lubricant and Windblade’s own prefluid and he’s never looked better. Best of all, he’s finally shut the fuck up. Well, he’s stopped talking, at least. He’s still making plenty of noise, moaning and whining around her spike, clinging to her thighs and shoving himself forward in time with her thrusts. Brat. She readjusts her hold on his helm vents and pulls him forward harshly, relishing the strangled cry she gets in return.
“That’s it,” she says. “Take it.” And he does. He takes her spike perfectly. “Not how you thought this meeting would end, is it?” Starscream looks up at her, meeting her optics with his hazy, unfocused ones. “If I had known it was this easy to shut you up, I would have done this much sooner.”
Starscream makes a desperate sound around her spike and she moans at the vibrations. He settles a bit more into his kneeling position, sinking lower and giving her a better grip on his helm vents. Looking down, she sees his panels are open and he’s so wet he’s leaving a puddle on his immaculately polished floor. He is enjoying this every bit as much as his field and his face say. She rolls her hips again, relishing the tight, wet heat around her spike. He’s taking her fully, nose pressed against her pelvic plating with every forward thrust. Tears stream down his face and his engine hitches every time she bottoms out, but he doesn’t pull back. He just takes it, and she thinks she might be getting high on the expression on his face.
“You’re good at this,” she tells him, grinding deep into the back of his throat. “Primus, where did you learn this?” Starscream, obviously, says nothing. “You look good down there on your knees.” The praise gets her a whine. “Is this all you wanted? Someone to put you in your place?”
Starscream’s optics flash bright and the noise he makes around her spike is obscene. That’s it. That, the vibration and the sound and the way his eyes go unfocused, pushes her over the edge. She thrusts hard into his mouth and holds him there, pressed against her, overloading down his throat in a wave of pleasure that seems to go on forever. He swallows around her, massaging her spike. White and grey static floods her vision for a long moment, and when the rush fades, she nearly falls on top of him.
She pulls back and pulls out and his mouth falls open, tongue hanging out just a bit as if to show her he’s swallowed all her transfluid. “Good,” she tells him, and he collapses forward against her thighs. His hand goes to his array, but he doesn’t touch. At first, she can’t figure out why, since he’s shaking and sparking all over with charge. It doesn’t take her long to figure it out. “You can touch yourself, Starscream.”
Immediately, his hand is on his node. He’s hardly touched himself before he’s overloading, field flaring out against hers and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He shakes against her, and when she tells him, “Good girl,” he makes a quiet, broken noise.
Starscream’s entirely out of it, deep in a headspace that, if the vacant, relaxed look on his face is anything to go by, he’s enjoying immensely. She sinks to her knees and leans back against his desk, positioning his limp frame between her legs. He goes willingly, and as soon as she’s comfortable, she’s got her arms full of warm, trembling Starscream. Arms wrap around her waist and he tucks his face into the crook of her neck. Looking over the top of his head, she can see the sun setting over the skyline. It’s gorgeous.
Slowly, their vents cycle down and Starscream relaxes against her until she’s not sure he’s completely online anymore. “That was good,” she murmurs.
“Yeah.” Soft, half-asleep.
“Is that all you were looking for? A firm hand?”
“Shut up.”
She pinches the tip of his wing. “Brat.”