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You sigh, pulling the needle from your thigh. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and toss the needle in the little sharps container that you keep in your bedroom. You sanitize your hands and slap a band aid to your thigh, a silent job well done. Copia watches you, a lazy smile across his face as he lounges on the floor with a pillow under his arm.
You raise a brow, a smirk playing at your lips. "Can I help you?" you ask playfully. Adorned only in your boxers and a pair of socks, you wander across the bedroom to grab some pajama pants and as you bend over you hear a sharp intake of breath from behind you.
"Gorgeous," Copia breathes. Before you can reply you feel his warm arms circle around your leg, his fingers gently grazing the inside of your thigh. He presses his nose against your skin, eyes fluttering shut as you stand there in shock.
"My love," Copia purrs. "Have you ever stopped to look in the mirror?"
"Many a time, yes," you reply quietly. You glance in the direction of the full body mirror in your shared bedroom. You stare at the masculine physique that looks back at you with pride. Hairy legs, hairy arms, a fuzzy tummy. Top surgery scars not yet healed. Fresh, a little jagged and bumpy. But they're you.
"Your creation is one of beauty," Copia continues, gently releasing your leg and standing so he can meet your eyes. "You know that right?"
"My creation," you whisper. You glance back at the mirror, then at him. He has taken off his blue blazer, his frilly black shirt. They drop to the floor softly. His top surgery scars are faded, less prominent, but still there. He smiles crookedly and gently takes your hand, guiding you to bed where you prop yourself along the pillows.
"May I?" he asks, pointing to your underwear. You nod, breathlessly as he hooks his thumbs under the waistband and slowly pulls them down, murmuring a soft "good boy" as you lift your hips so he can continue undressing what little you have on. "May I pleasure you with my tongue?" he asks.
"Yes," you consent, heart beating rapidly in your chest. It beat like the wings of a bird trying to free itself of a cage.
He starts by kissing the inside of your leg, your knee. He murmurs praise along your hairy body. As he grows closer to your genitals he pauses.
"You smell divine, my love," he murmurs.
You blush a little at that; one of the unfortunates of Testosterone is smelling quite distinct. You are often a little hesitant of your musk, of the growth of your clitoris. Not ashamed, but cautious. You try your best to stay clean but your body knows best. Knows how to take care of yourself.
You gasp as his lips meet your folds. He kisses and sucks, his nose brushing up against your skin. He favours your growth, humming tenderly against your skin.
You throw your head back against the plush pillows and grip his dark locks, tugging and pulling, trying to guide him at the right angle. He allows you to wrap your legs round him, pulling his mouth deeper.
You don't want his fingers, you'd rather he didn't use them. And he knew not to. When you feel the heat begin to pool in your belly you arch your back. He grips your hips tightly and pulls his head back, a flicker behind his eyes.
"Stay still for me," he commands and you melt beneath that tone of voice. He doesn't raise it and it isn't sharp, but he also isn't playing around. Your pleasure is his responsibility but he also wants to remind you that he is Papa.
He continues to kiss, suck, and nose. Grips his fingers into the meat of your ass and suddenly!
You lift your hips high and a cry escapes your lips. He releases you and you pant heavily, legs trembling as you come down from the height of your orgasm.
He lies beside you and teases his fingers along the little patches of chest hair that have finally began to blossom. He chuckles and wraps his strong arms around you, pressing his lips against your cheek.
"My beautiful self made man," he murmurs. "Together, we shall reshape the Ministry."
"I'd love nothing more," you breathed, rolling over to drape your leg over his hip. The two of you embrace, facing one another. He gently soothes his hand alongside your thigh and your ass, giving it a squeeze.
He gives it a firm pat. "Good boy."