Tarn lets his head fall back onto the berth with a dull thud as Pharma really sets to work. His hips buck up ever so slightly into the doctor's touch as he grinds his fingers over his wet, charge swollen valve opening.

His node aches with need as it's passed over for his Spike housing. Tarn is about to growl something snappish when his mouth opens into a quiet gasp as Pharma slowly plunges his digits into his slick heat.

"Not that it's any of your businesses," Tarn manages to bite out, covering a slight quiver in his voice, "But you will be the fourth."