jei

Everything was wrong. It felt like the earth had tilted off its axis just enough to keep you unsteady. Gerard, who was infamous for rotting away in his basement, now trailed behind you and Mikey as you walked through the house. Music blared, bass pumped. The party was in full swing, the overwhelming smell of beer, weed, cigarette smoke, and cheap cologne hit your senses all at once. Your shoulders stayed tense as you tried to keep a neutral face, not wanting to tip Mikey off to the fact that you were sore with each step because you’d just fucked his older brother.

Mikey knew something was off. He wasn’t stupid, but seeing his brother come out of his shell and actually agree to come out with him overshadowed any suspicions he might have had. In the car, Mikey had practically glowed, talking with Gerard in the passenger seat about the friends who’d be at the party, the music, the booze, the potential of the night. Gerard stayed polite and nodded as he listened, but every few minutes you caught him glancing back at you with soft eyes.

It made your stomach twist.

The hookup didn’t mean anything. You’d done him a favor, and he knew it was a one-time thing. A mistake. You could only hope Gerard understood that.

Mikey stopped in the living room when he found a group of his friends. He paused and started introducing Gerard, explaining that this was his artistic older brother who’d just graduated from college. Seeing that Mikey and Gerard were distracted, you took the opportunity to slip away and head to the kitchen. Solo cups and bottles of alcohol were scattered across the sticky counter. You shoved your way through the crowd before pouring yourself a drink. Half rum, half coke.

A shaky breath left your lips as you brought the cup to your mouth and took a large gulp. It burned, but you welcomed it. The warmth of the alcohol washed over your body, and you finally felt like you could breathe.

“You okay?”

You peered up to see a guy in his early twenties smiling down at you. “Huh?”

He nodded at your drink. “That’s pretty heavy-handed. You look like you need it though.”

A quiet laugh escaped your lips, and you shrugged. “Yeah, it’s just been an...” you paused, “interesting day.”

He grinned down at you. “Well, I hope this is an improvement.” He started mixing his own drink, glancing back at you. “I’m Mark.”

You gave him your name, sipping from your cup. Conversation flowed easily between you, and you almost managed to forget about the sticky mess between your legs.

Time slipped away, and you found yourself on the living room couch, passing a joint back to Mark. You discussed the classes you were taking, your bullshit professors. The crossfade hit hard: your head spinning, limbs sinking into the cushions. Mark sat close, his leg brushing yours. His hands moved as he talked, voice warm and low.

You didn’t mind. He was a good distraction from what happened earlier.

The music pounded, the people were even louder. Sweat trickled down the back of your neck. You needed some air. When you told Mark, he offered to come with you. You didn’t say no.

Outside, the backyard felt less suffocating. The cool October air made you shiver, and you pulled your jacket tighter. Multi-colored Christmas lights hung around the porch, casting everything in a warm glow. A small group clustered by the firepit, laughing and drinking. The smell of smoke and damp leaves helped you breathe easier.

“You want another hit?”

Mark held out the joint. You nodded thanks, fingers brushing his before bringing it to your lips. You inhaled and held it, then exhaled with a burning throat, raising your arm to muffle your cough.

You sank back onto the wooden bench. Mark followed, and you passed the joint back. He slipped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer. Too close, and you could feel the warmth from his breath. He kept rambling about some drunk asshole at a bar. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and you froze, Mark’s voice droning on.

You felt the pull. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Just a few feet away, Gerard stood half-shadowed near the porch’s edge, cigarette dangling from his fingers, shoulders rigid.

Watching.

His hazel eyes burned into yours. You flinched, breath catching in your throat. Mark didn’t notice.

“-and then the dude trips over the pool table like he’s in slow motion,” Mark laughed.

You tried to laugh along, but what escaped was strained and hollow. Your eyes darted back to Gerard.

He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t said a word. Just stared.

A chill ran through you, and you stood abruptly, shrugging Mark’s arm off your shoulders.

“You good?”

You glanced down at Mark and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just need to hit the bathroom.”

You rushed inside, the glass door slamming behind you. Heavy footsteps followed, but you didn’t look back. You already knew who it was.

You pushed through the crowd of people, shoving until you reached the bathroom door. As you went to close it behind you, a hand caught it. Gerard stepped inside and shut the door.

The click of the lock was deafening.

Your eyebrow shot up, frustration surging through you. “Gerard, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He leaned against the door, arms crossed, his gaze raking over your body. “What do you think I’m doing? What the fuck were you doing out there?”

“What are you talking about? I was just outside smoking and-”

He cut you off, straightening to his full height, his frame towering over you. “You let him put his arm around you.”

You stepped back. “So? It’s not like we’re together.”

That stopped him cold. The anger drained from his face.

“...What?”

You swallowed hard. “What happened earlier- that was a mistake.”

“No.” His voice cracked. “No, don’t say that. It wasn’t a mistake. I mean, I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us yet-”

“’Us?’”

“You’re just scared. I get it. It’s a big step. But I’m not going anywhere, okay? You don’t have to pretend you don’t feel it.”

A bitter laugh burst from you, and you shook your head. “Jesus, are you fucking serious? It was a hookup, and not even a good one.” You stepped closer, eyes blazing, finger jabbing into his chest. “We aren’t a thing. We are never going to be a thing. And you need to get that through your thick fucking skull.”

Gerard’s eyes blazed, and he blinked rapidly. “If it was such a bad fucking hookup then why did you cum on my dick?”

Your chest rose and fell in sharp, angry breaths as you locked eyes. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with everything else that made up Gerard. “The only reason I came was because I had to physically guide you through it. Before tonight, you were just a loser virgin living in his parents’ basement. Nothing’s changed-”

Gerard seized your shoulders, crushing his lips against yours. Tears streamed down his face, and his fingers dug into you desperately, as if he was afraid you’d vanish. All the pent-up aggression and raw emotion from tonight erupted between you, and you found yourself kissing back, fingers threading through his greasy hair, tugging hard. He groaned into your mouth, and your thighs pressed together, seeking friction.

He pulled back, pupils blown wide, forehead pressed to yours. “Show me. Please. I can learn. You said I did it right earlier. I can be good for you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Your breath hitched, and you nodded. “Fine.” You released him, ignoring his soft whimpers as you stepped back until your lower back hit the counter. You hoisted yourself up with your palms. “I’ll let you touch me again, but you do exactly what I say or we stop. Understood?”

Gerard stepped forward, closing the gap, and nodded eagerly, desperate for your approval. He positioned himself between your thighs before leaning down to kiss you intensely, one hand settling on your waist while the other cupped your cheek.

Want and need coiled tight in your core, and your hips tilted up against him instinctively. He was already hard, and feeling his arousal again just hours after you’d had sex sent heat spiraling through you.

Gerard whined against your mouth, feeling the pressure and returning the favor by grinding against you. You both found a steady rhythm—kissing, sucking, and dry humping each other until you broke away for air. When you turned your head, Gerard continued his assault, lips brushing against your neck and jawline, sending shivers racing through your body. His teeth grazed your skin, and you groaned as he began to bite and suck, no doubt leaving marks. You wanted to feel ashamed and embarrassed, but his mouth on your neck while he ground his erection against you left your head spinning.

“Touch me. Now.”

Gerard didn’t need to be told twice. His hand slid from your waist downward, fingers slipping below your waistband before he tugged harshly. You lifted your hips to help him, kicking off your shoes as he pulled your jeans down your legs.

A shaky breath escaped Gerard as he stared down at you: still wearing your shirt, jacket, and underwear. The fabric of your panties had darkened with your arousal, and you felt small under his intense gaze.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks before reaching out to grab his shoulders, crashing your lips against his. He kissed you back while his hand crept from your thigh to your core, thumb rubbing you through the damp fabric.

Your hips rocked against his hand, electric current shooting through your body. “More. I need more.”

Gerard obliged, pulling your panties down to the floor. You shivered as the cool air hit your core, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his touch.

“On your knees. I want you to eat me out.”

He slowly sank down, both hands gripping the tops of your thighs. His hazel eyes looked up at you through dark lashes, and you couldn’t hold back a long, languid moan as he used his hands to spread your legs wider, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin, trailing upward until he reached your entrance. Your legs hooked over his shoulders as he pulled you close in a tight grip.

His hands trembled, and you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves, excitement, or both, you couldn’t tell.

You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair, nails scratching his scalp as you pulled him closer, tilting your hips toward him. You shuddered as Gerard’s hot breath hit your pussy, whining when you felt his tongue slide over your slit. He groaned, tasting what remained from your earlier encounter, plunging his tongue into you with steady rhythm.

“You taste so fucking good. Been thinking about doing this for years.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, caught between a mix of disgust and arousal at his confession.

“Gerard, keep going. I need more. Please.”

It felt like heaven when his tongue flattened over your clit. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as you ground against his face. He moaned when you pulled his hair, the vibration making your eyes flutter closed.

“Fuck, just like that.”

You ground against him and he ate you out like a man devouring his last meal. His nails dug into your skin, holding you tight. He was insatiable.

Your toes curled as pleasure built inside you. Your fingers twisted in his hair, tightening as you panted and rocked against his mouth. His lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at a relentless pace. You threw your head back, moaning curses and pleas. You covered your mouth, terrified someone from the party would hear, and your body shook as you came on his tongue.

Gerard continued his ministrations, riding out your aftershocks. You whined and tried to pull away, releasing his hair and slumping against the bathroom counter. You opened your eyes to find him looking at you with a smug grin, mouth shiny and wet.

You made grabby hands at him. “C’mere.”

He stood up, staying between your thighs, and hovered over you before pressing his lips to yours. You sighed, tasting yourself before pausing when you felt his hard length against your sensitive pussy.

You leaned back, eyes flickering between his erection and his face. “Well, you definitely can’t go back out there with that.” You reached out and palmed him through his jeans, feeling him melt under your touch.

Gerard panted, hips pressing against your hand, seeking friction. “I need you. Please, I need to feel you around me again.”

You nodded, too blissed out from your second orgasm of the night to say no. “Fine, but make it quick.”

“Fuck, thank you.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before gripping your hips with both hands. In one swift movement, he lifted you from the counter and spun you around so your chest pressed against the countertop, facing the mirror. His hands rushed to unbuckle his belt, and you heard his pants unzip before feeling the warmth of his length against you.

One hand grabbed at you, palming and squeezing your ass while the other gripped his dick, stroking himself. You arched your back, pressing against him, and you could feel his precum smear against your skin, leaving a cool trail.

“You’re so perfect. Like you were made for me.”

He positioned himself against you, and you held eye contact with him in the mirror as he began entering you with ease. Your walls stretched, but he slid in effortlessly from how wet you were. Gerard groaned loudly, unashamed, as he slammed into you at breakneck speed. You whimpered at his rough intrusion as your hips dug into the counter’s edge. The room filled with moans and wet slapping sounds.

He hunched over your body, breath hot against the back of your neck while one hand reached around to grab and grope your tits. “Can’t wait to fill you up.” His mouth found your neck again, and he sucked, nipped, and bit at you, making you cry out. He was definitely going to leave marks.

You covered your mouth, trying to muffle any loud noises. Gerard noticed, eyes narrowing before he released your chest and grabbed the hand covering your mouth. “Nuh, uh. I want them to hear. I want that fucking asshole who had his arm around you to hear.”

He stood up, his pace never faltering as he manhandled you, grabbing both wrists and pinning them behind your back, holding you up. You watched in the mirror as your chest bounced with each thrust, your face contorting with pleasure. Beads of sweat rolled down Gerard’s face, plastering his hair to his skin.

Your walls fluttered against him, and you clenched your legs together. The heat of your bodies, your sore pussy, the confusing emotional whirlwind of tonight. It all left you overstimulated.

“Too much, fuck. Gerard, it’s too much.”

You could barely breathe, arms pinned behind you as he used your body, unable to look away. He leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Shhh… You’re okay, I got you.” He groaned, feeling you clench around him, cringing feeling the drops of sweat fall from his body onto yours. “I’m almost there, babe.”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, panting loudly as he filled you with his cum. He shuddered, his hips driving into you as hard and deep as he could. He released your wrists and you both slumped forward onto the counter. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, his dick still inside you.

You started coming to your senses, whining at his weight pinning you against the counter, feeling his cum begin to leak down your thigh. You could hear the party continuing outside the bathroom. Drunk voices yelling, music still blasting, the bass vibrating through your feet. Anxiety crept up on you, and you couldn’t help wondering if Mark noticed that both you and Gerard had disappeared. Or worse, if Mikey noticed.

“Get off. We’ve been in here too long.”

He sighed as he pulled out his softening dick. You stood up on shaking legs and turned to grab your jeans and panties. You paused, eyebrow raising as you watched Gerard shove familiar black lace into his pocket. You rolled your eyes, too drunk, high, and exhausted to argue.

“Pervert.”

Gerard’s cheeks flushed pink, and he shoved himself back into his jeans, watching while you pulled your pants up.

“So, I was thinking I want to take you on a real date.” You froze, bent over mid-pull, eyes glancing up at him as he continued. “Does dinner tomorrow work?”

You shook your head and shimmied your pants up. The audacity of this man.

“No, Gerard. I’m not having dinner with you.”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Why not? We obviously work well together. I don’t know why you keep denying it.”

“Just because we fucked doesn’t mean anything. We aren’t anything, and this won’t happen again. Ever.”

A flash of hurt flickered across Gerard’s face before a scowl replaced it. “It’s just dinner. But if you’re really going to pretend this meant nothing... I guess I’ll have to find someone else to talk to about it. Mikey’s always been a good listener.”

“i think about this too much,” rafayel whispered against your skin like a confession. “how good you’ll feel when you open up for me.”

“you'd take me, wouldn’t you?” he continued, his thumb brushing lazy circles just below your navel. “you’d let me stretch you open?”

“uh huh,” you hiccuped, already breathless, thighs clenched around him.

you were already bare for him, legs spread across his lap. his shirt off, yours somewhere on the floor, your underwear soaked through and peeled to the side. he moved one hand down, sliding between your thighs with a deliberate slowness that made your whole body arch. and when he found you, wet and trembling, his breath caught.

“fuck,” he whispered, eyes fluttering closed. “you’re soaked, sweetheart. i haven’t even touched you yet.”

his fingers didn’t push in, didn’t even circle. he just rested them there, barely moving, like the heat of you was enough to ruin him. like he wanted to remember how it felt, this first time. how soft and flushed and ready you were.

“we’ll go slow,” rafayel promised, voice raw. “i’ll make it good for you. so good.”

you felt the first gentle stroke of his fingers. just once, slicking through your folds. then, without warning, his sinks a finger in slowly, so slowly it makes your breath catch. he eases in a second, working you open with a worshipful hunger that sends a thrill straight to your core. you sobbed, full-body and desperate.

“oh, baby,” he whispered, like he was in awe. “don’t cry. you’re perfect. i’ve got you.”

his voice dropped lower, like sin wrapped in silk. “you’re just aching, aren’t you?” another soft stroke. “all filled up with nothing.”

you nodded, frantically. he kissed you again, filthy this time, tongue and teeth and heat, your moans caught in his mouth. you were so overwhelmed, trembling with how much you wanted. how warm his hands felt on your skin. how much care he poured into every motion, like he couldn’t believe he got to touch you like this at all.

his fingers were soaked. he spread your slick across your aching folds with unbearable care, circling your clit with the gentlest touch, over and over, until your hips were twitching up into his palm.

“you’re making such a mess,” he crooned, kissing just under your jaw. “this pretty little cunt’s just dripping for me, huh?”

you whimpered, high and helpless, nails digging into his shoulders like that might somehow ground you. his lips trailed lower, slow kisses down your throat, over your collarbone. he reached your chest and didn’t just grope, he worshipped. cupped your breast in one hand, kissed the other like it was something sacred. sucked soft at your nipple, groaning when your back arched into him.

“you want me inside?” he breathed, tongue flicking over your skin. “think you’re ready, baby?”

you were soaked, throbbing, your whole body begging for him. “yes,” you gasped. “please, raf, please—”

he shifted above you, carefully, cradling the back of your head like you were breakable. his hips moved forward, the thick weight of his tip nudging at your entrance.

your breath hitched. he was hot and heavy, the blunt head of his cock barely pressing in, stretching you with the slightest pressure, and already, your body tensed with the ache.

he held himself there, just barely inside, unmoving. waiting. his forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing your own. “deep breath, baby,” he murmured. “it’s just the tip. you’re doing so good.”

his hips rocked forward the slightest inch, just enough to push deeper, to draw another gasp from your chest. your spine arched in response, thighs twitching around his sides like instinct. your cunt was gripping him, velvety and soaking, stretched wide around that impossible girth. every ridge, every twitch of him pressed to the softest parts of you. heat bloomed deep in your belly like a bruise being kissed into place.

the weight of him inside you was staggering. every inch he gave you felt like it rewrote something in your body. your walls pulsed around him, struggling to take more, and yet wanting it, aching for it, the way lungs ache for air.

your nails pressed into his back, searching for something to hold onto. his mouth hovered near your cheek, brushing warmth over your skin with every shuddered breath he took. you were wet enough to hear it, that slow, molten slide of his cock coaxing its way in. and still, it felt impossible. your body didn’t know what to do with him, had never held anything like this.

“you feel that?” he whispered, nosing along your jaw. “feel how deep i am already? and i’m not even halfway, baby.”

your breath caught. another push forward, and you felt it hit something deeper, that place inside that made your legs jerk and your throat tighten around a whimper. he stilled, panting softly against your shoulder, grounding you again.

your cunt clenched again, hard. it made him groan, made you whine. it felt like your body was sucking him in, desperate, needing. and still he moved slow, so slow, sinking in deeper as your muscles pulsed around him in surrender.

“that’s it,” he breathed, praising you with every breath. “such a good girl. lettin’ me in so slow. stretchin’ so pretty for me.”

the praise didn’t land in your ears so much as in your chest. it bloomed under your ribs, settling somewhere deep, where your pulse couldn’t tell the difference between fear and pleasure. you were stretched taut, cunt clenching involuntarily, the ache delicious and dizzying, every part of you tuned to where his cock filled you, inch by careful inch.

he bottomed out with a shudder, cock seated deep inside you, and everything went quiet. for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. couldn’t think. you were just so full, stretched wide and gasping, every muscle fluttering from the sheer pressure of him. you clenched around him again, instinctively, helpless, and his jaw locked tight like it took everything in him not to move. he was shaking above you, breathing ragged into your skin.

you whimpered, your legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close, not that he was going anywhere. his hands were firm on your hips, thumbs smoothing over your skin, trying to soothe you both. you felt wrecked already, and he’d barely moved.

“too much?” he asked, voice barely a whisper, even as you shook your head before he finished the words. “tell me what you need, angel.”

“i’m okay,” you breathed. “need you to move, raf. please.”

a tremor ran through his body, and then he pulled out before sinking back in with slow, deliberate force. you moaned, high and trembling, eyes fluttering shut. it was so deep. too deep, too much, and yet not enough. your body couldn’t decide. your walls tightened, clinging to him greedily, even as your thighs trembled from the effort of keeping yourself open for him.

he kept up the slow pace with careful, gentle thrusts. not hard but steady, like he was still testing your limits, still giving you time to adjust and still barely holding himself back. each drag of his cock rubbed against something unbearably good inside you. it made your back arch, your mouth part, little whines spilling out uncontrollably.

“god, look at you,” he moaned softly, watching every twitch and flutter of your body. “so sweet. that tight little pussy's holding me so good.”

you were trying to answer, trying to thank him or ask for more or just breathe, but the words all dissolved somewhere between your parted lips and the fire low in your belly. your thoughts were melting, every coherent thing washed away by the slow grind of his hips and the thick heat of him inside you.

he pressed his forehead to yours, breath heavy and hot against your lips. “wish you could feel what i feel. you’re squeezing me so tight. i’m gonna lose it if you keep looking at me like that.”

you couldn’t help it. your eyes were glossy, mouth swollen from his kisses, your whole body open and aching for him. every slow thrust sent a ripple through your thighs, your belly, your heart.

each stroke was smooth and full, dragging slick and warm through your walls, pressing into the parts of you that made your toes curl and your breath catch. you could hear how wet you were, how your heat welcomed him in every time, sweet and messy and perfect.

“you’re so good for me,” rafayel whispered. “so fucking pretty like this. all spread out and dripping. letting me fuck you open, taking it so well, baby.”

you whimpered, trying not to cry from the sheer overwhelm of it. you’d never felt so full, so bare. so cherished and ruined all at once.

the rhythm stayed steady, but your moans didn’t. they were growing louder, breathier, sweeter with every thrust, until they broke apart into needy, high little cries that made his hips stutter. you didn’t mean to, you weren’t trying to push him, but it was as if your body was speaking for you. arching up into him, pulling him deeper, greedy and frantic despite how slow he was still moving.

“raf—” you gasped, clawing at his shoulders. “more. more, please.”

a choked groan fell from his lips as his hips jerked with a need that echoed yours. you felt the shift in him—the control fraying, slipping through his fingers. he was trying to hold on. trying so hard to be good for you.

the sounds in the room were obscene. your slick, the wet drag of his cock plunging into you, your needy little gasps and his wrecked moans, all tangled into something raw and dizzying and perfect. you were wrecked, gasping and sobbing his name between whimpers of please and don’t stop and feels so good, every word tangled with want.

you sobbed his name, body arching into him, eyes glossy and unfocused. you sounded like you were coming apart under him, like he was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

“i know,” he groaned, barely holding himself together. “i know, baby. you’re taking me so well. so fuckin’ perfect for me. never felt anything like this.”

he sounded wrecked, like he was drowning in you. his voice was thick with heat and disbelief, every word unraveling between praises. “your pussy’s got me losin’ my mind. fuckin’ made for me. feels like heaven, baby. so soft, so warm—fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

you were too far gone to speak. you just cried his name, again and again, your body shaking as the pleasure built like a tidal wave. his praises never stopped. like he had to say them, practically bursting out of him. your body was coiled tight, every muscle drawn and trembling, the heat inside you swelling fast and hard like it couldn’t hold any longer.

rafayel felt it in the way you clenched around him, how your moans cracked and pitched into sharp, high whimpers, your legs trembling where they wrapped around his hips. “ohh, baby,” he panted, face buried in your neck. “that’s it. that’s it, i got you. just let go, let go for me.”

you hands scrabbled for purchase, digging into his shoulders like he was the only thing anchoring you. white heat exploded through you, shattering everything. you came with a cry, back arching up off the bed as your cunt clamped down around him, tight and fluttering, soaking his cock in a wave of hot, helpless release.

he groaned deep in his chest, felt it, like your orgasm ripped through him, too. “oh, fuck—fuck, you’re milkin’ me, baby, i—”

he didn’t last a second longer. one more pulse of your cunt around him, one more cry of his name, and he snapped. he buried himself deep, his tip kissing your cervix as he came hard, spilling inside you with a low, shaking moan. he held you close as he painted your walls with every last drop, your name a reverent chant on his lips. he trembled above you, chest heaving, one hand braced by your head and the other scooping you up by your waist like he couldn’t bear not to be touching you.

“you’re perfect,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “so perfect for me, baby. you did so good.”

you blinked up at him, vision blurry, lips parted. your whole body felt numb, boneless and oversensitive and wrecked in the most perfect way. the ache between your thighs was sweet, deep, and dizzying. you whimpered, barely able to breathe.

he cradled your face in both hands now, brushing the wet hair from your cheeks, his thumb sweeping slow under your eye. “you okay?” he asked softly, nuzzling your noses together. “talk to me, sweetheart.”

you nodded, eyes glassy. “yeah. yeah, i just… wow.”

he smiled—melted, really—and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. your thighs twitched around him. he was still thick inside you, still stretching you, but you didn’t want him to move yet. he rocked into you just once, slow and deep, making your breath catch.

he let you fall into him, arms around his shoulders, forehead resting against his chest while he whispered all the things he didn’t have the breath to say before. “so beautiful,” he murmured. “so sweet. you were perfect, baby. took me like you were made for it.”

you buried your face in his neck, dazed and warm and aching, as he kissed your hair.

“i love you,” he said, soft as a secret. “so, so much. my perfect girl.”

you stayed tangled in the heat and sweat and softness, still joined at the hips, your bodies humming with afterglow, too wrecked to speak and too in love to need to.

You turned to him, pressing a soft kiss to his hip. “You good?”

A low, breathless chuckle escaped him. “You’ve got me seeing stars, sweetheart.”

You grinned, letting your fingers trail lightly down his abdomen. “Then close your eyes,” you murmured. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

He opened one eye, smirking faintly. “Oh yeah? Thought you’d worn yourself out.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you slid down the bed, lips brushing over his inner thigh. His breath caught as you took him into your mouth, warm and slow. You could feel how overstimulated he was, every twitch of his hips, every quiet groan that slipped past his lips.

“Y/N…” he warned, voice husky and low. “I just came—”

But he didn’t stop you. He tilted his head back, one arm flung across the pillows, and let you work.

You bobbed gently, letting your tongue tease the head of his cock, swirling slowly, loving the way he tensed under you. He was so sensitive now, every drag of your mouth making him tremble. You looked up at him, eyes wide, letting him see the devotion in your gaze.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice ragged. “You’re too good at this.”

He shifted suddenly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up before flipping the both of you—so fast it made you gasp. You were on your back now, but he didn’t lay you flat. Instead, he moved above you—kneeling—straddling your chest, his cock glistening as he looked down at you.

“You want it?” he asked, voice dark and velvet-smooth.

You nodded, lips parted, breath shallow. “Yes… please.”

He didn’t hesitate. One hand wrapped at the base of his shaft while the other found your cheek. He stroked himself slowly, eyes fixed on your mouth, your skin, your desperation. His voice dropped another octave.

“Look at you. So fucking pretty like this. Taking care of me after all that.”

You watched, mesmerized, as he stroked harder—until his muscles flexed, and his breath hitched. You know he’s getting close so you open your dirty little mouth to take his cum like a good girl. His warmth splattered across your cheek and lips, his release painting your skin as his eyes fluttered shut, a shiver running through his body.

You moaned softly at the feeling, heart pounding.

He opened his eyes, gaze dark and tender, thumb spreading his cum across your cheek. “Good girl,” he whispered.

Your thighs clenched.

Then, his voice dipped, commanding and sweet all at once:

“Again.”

Rafayel was so immersed with his work that he didn’t realize you had come over, until you walked past him completely naked, and that was how it all started. Hours of two bodies colliding with one another, mixed with sweat and unforgiving pleasure. You lost count of how many orgasms you’ve had. Intense orgasms only he can give you. The slight curve of his cock hitting that perfect spot.

He had bent you over the edge of the bed, one large hand splayed across your lower back, the other gripping your hip so tightly you could still feel the imprint of his fingers. You could still feel the way he called your name as he came—hot, heavy—spilling across your back in thick ropes, gasping like he’d been holding himself back for hours.

“Don’t move,” he murmured.

He leaves you momentarily —face turned to the side, chest heaving against the sheets—while he stepped away into the adjoining room. When he returned, his voice was low and rich, curling through the air like smoke.

You lifted your head just enough to glance back. “What are you doing?”

There was a quiet sound—the soft bristle of something brushing against glass.

Then, in his hand, you saw it: a small, slender paintbrush.

Your breath hitched.

Rafayel’s eyes roamed your naked body like he was trying to memorize every curve, every mark he’d left on you. And there were plenty—faint bruises blooming on your hips, scratches along your thighs, flushed skin along your spine.

“You,” he said softly, “are a fucking masterpiece cutie.”

The brush dipped toward your lower back—right where his release still glistened on your skin—and then dragged upward, slow and deliberate.

You shivered. “Rafayel…”

“Shhh. I’m working.”

The bristles slid over your spine in smooth strokes, circling your shoulder blade, then dragging down the curve of your waist, his cum now an artpiece on your back. He painted in silence, one hand pressed between your shoulder blades to keep you still, the other dragging the brush across your back like you were silk.

“Every inch of you belongs to me,” he muttered. “I could cover you in this—layer by layer—and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

You whimpered, your body tightening with each pass. Then came the pause.

He frowned, pulling back slightly. The brush hovered, but the movement stalled.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, breathless.

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “I ran out.”

You swallowed hard. “You—what?”

His voice now a dark, and silent whisper,. “I’m not done. But if I want more to paint with…”

You felt the paintbrush slide down your back, between your cheeks, down your pussy to your clit, making little circles with the cum-soaked brush, his hand sliding between your thighs.

“…I’ll have to make more.”

You gasped as he pressed his hard cock against you once more from behind —already hard, already desperate—and in one swift thrust, he was inside you. The paintbrush is still moving in rhythmic circles around your swollen clit, “Rafayel—!”

He groaned into your neck. “Don’t move. Let me finish what I started.”

And he does—using your body not just as a canvas, but as his altar, his obsession, his art. Over and over again.

Your legs were draped over Zayne’s shoulders, heels digging slightly into his back as he moved inside you with slow, powerful strokes. His grip on your hips had softened from before—no longer desperate, but reverent, almost tender. You felt every inch of him, the way his body trembled from holding back. 

He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes searching.

“You okay?” he whispered, breathing warm against your lips.

You nodded, barely able to speak. “Zayne… please. I want all of you.”

His lips parted like the sound of your voice undid him. And he let go.

A deep moan slipped from his throat as he pushed in hard one final time before pulling his cock out. His whole body tensed, and you gasped at the sensation of his release—hot and thick—spurting across your stomach as he strokes himself in front of you, his cheeks flushed a perfect shade of pink.. Long ropes of cum land from your stomach to just below your breasts, making you shiver from the contrast of warmth against your flushed skin.

Zayne held still for a breath, panting, forehead dropping to your shoulder. His heart beat against yours in heavy thuds. But he didn’t move away.

Watching the way his cum dripped down your body—his gaze full of something deeper than lust. Adoration. Awe.

Then, without a word, he knelt back between your thighs. His hand cupped one of your breasts gently, thumb brushing the underside.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You flushed, but didn’t look away. “What are you thinking?”

“That I could stare at you like this forever.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss just above your navel—right where his release still clung to your skin. “And that I want to make you feel good again.”

You parted your lips to ask what he meant—until he reached for your breasts again, lifting them delicately, pressing them together with the softest touch.

His cock, still slick, slipped between them—his movements now slow, careful, like you were fragile and sacred.

“I just want to feel you,” he whispered. “One more time.”

You gasped as he thrust gently between your breasts, the warm mess of his earlier climax acting as a glide. His eyes never left yours, not even when his hips stuttered again, a softer sound of pleasure escaping him.

When he came again—this time smaller, less frantic—it pooled right at your collarbone. Zayne let out a shaky breath and leaned over you, resting his forehead against yours again.

You could feel his weight, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It was comforting.

He stayed like that for a moment, catching his breath.

Then he slowly pulled back, gaze sweeping over the mess on your chest, and his jaw flexed—not in frustration, but something closer to guilt.

“Let me clean you up,” he said gently, already reaching for a warm towel from the nightstand. “You’ve been through enough tonight. You shouldn’t have to lift a finger.”

You smiled up at him, dazed and glowing. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said softly, wiping you down with quiet care. “You deserve to be taken care of.”

His touch was tender, lingering just long enough to soothe without overwhelming. When he was done, he pulled the blanket up, tucking it around you with one arm before sliding into bed beside you.

You curled into him without hesitation.

Zayne wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you like you were his home.

And in the hush of the room, with the smell of sweat and skin still lingering in the air, he kissed your temple and whispered:

“Thank you for trusting me.”

The room was quiet now—except for the soft sound of your breathing and the way Sylus’s chest pressed into your back, still rising and falling with the aftershocks of what he’d just given you… multiple times.

You’d lost count of how many times he’d taken you tonight. Slow. Rough. Deep. Worshipful. Each stroke calculated to hit your most pleasurable spot, in a rhythm that he knows can make you shiver. He loved the way your pussy wrapped around his cock and loved the way you call out his name each time you’re about to squirt.

You two were spooning this time as he took you, his favorite position. He knew it made you feel surrounded. Owned. Loved, even in his most possessive moments.

This time, he hadn’t even repositioned you—he pulled out just before his release, and reached for your thigh, and came across the top of your hips while you were still limp and breathless in his arms.

When he came—hot and deep from your hips rolled down across your backside—you felt every pulse of it, every thick rope dripping down your ass and slipping into the cleft between your cheeks. You shivered, body clenching softly in response.

Sylus didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

One of his hands trailed slowly down your side, over the curve of your hip, before slipping between your thighs. His cum was already sliding downward with gravity, and his fingers followed—coating your skin, slow and intentional.

“You feel that?” he murmured behind your ear, voice rough and low. “That’s mine. You’re mine.”

You whimpered, melting into him. You can only respond with an obedient nod.

His hand moved behind you, spreading your ass cheeks slightly before pressing the slick pad of one finger right atop your asshole, where your body was most vulnerable. He paused—silent, listening to your breath.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, brushing his lips along the curve of your shoulder.

You nodded once. “I want it.”

That was all he needed.

His finger eased into your tight ass, slow and gentle, the slide made easier by the mess he’d just left there. You moaned, the unfamiliar stretch making your walls tighten instinctively—and Sylus groaned in return, the tension in his arm wrapping around you increasing.

“You don’t even know what you do to me,” he rasped.

You felt him getting hard again behind you—already pressing against your thigh, thick and throbbing, as his finger continued to gently work inside you.

Then, without removing his hand, he lifted your leg once more and slid into your soaked pussy from behind, burying himself in one long, fluid thrust.

You gasped, back arching into his chest.

“Sylus—!”

He stilled, savoring the feeling—your slick heat gripping him so perfectly, your body trembling from the double sensation of being filled in two places at once. His finger now angled towards the wall between your ass and pussy, creating an intense sensation that only Sylus is able to give you.

He kissed your neck before he wrapped one of his hands around it. As he begins to move, slow and deep, every motion deliberate.

“I want you to remember this,” he whispered against your skin. “How full you feel. How wrecked you are. How much I love being inside you… all of you.”

His thrusts stayed steady, one hand gripping your thigh, the other still inside you, working you open with reverent care.

And when you came—shaking and gasping into the sheets—he followed seconds later, hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, arms wrapped around you as you two enjoyed this world made for only the two of you.

Your body trembled as you sank down onto Caleb once more, thighs aching, knees pressed into the soft sheets. His hands were on your waist, grounding you—but it was his gravity evol that kept you there. A delicious pull, like the invisible weight of him was anchored deep inside you.

His hard throbbing cock was so far in, so deep, so unrelenting.

You gasped, screamed out his name, hips stuttering, but couldn’t lift yourself.

“Stay,” he murmured, voice low and thick, his fingers digging gently into your hips. “Don’t fight it. Just take it.”

And you did.

You let the gravity hold you still, your body flush against his, his cock buried so deep it made your toes curl. Every time you tried to rise, your muscles tensed—but the air around you pulled you back down, as though the very space between your bodies refused to let you go.

“Look at you,” Caleb whispered. “Just sitting there. Full of me. Taking it all in like my good girl”

Your walls fluttered around him, sensitive and overstimulated. He wasn’t even moving—but it didn’t matter. He had control. Of your pace, your rhythm, your breath, your everything. You mind goes blank, the pleasure taking over you like he’s cast a spell on you.

He groaned as his hands slid up your back, down again, gripping the flesh of your ass as you rocked once—twice—and he pulsed hard inside you.

And then he came, his hot cum flowing inside you, shooting up into the deepest walls of your pussy, the heat permeating your senses. You loved the feeling of his cum filling you up. 

He didn’t pull out.

He stayed sheathed, twitching inside you as his hips gave one final roll. You could feel it—the warmth spreading, pooling between your thighs, slowly seeping out as his cock began to soften a little.

But you didn’t move. It feels so good to feel his cum flowing down, coating every part of your pussy.

You sat on him, body slack with pleasure, his softening length still nestled inside you as he exhaled against your neck.

Then his hand drifted down.

He slipped a finger between your thighs, gathering his cum that had escaped, and dragged it upward in slow, sensual strokes—pressing into your clit with practiced ease.

You gasped, body jolting. “Caleb—!”

He shushed you with a kiss, his hand still lazily working circles as his other hand gathered more of the mess between your legs.

“I want to see you covered in me,” he said, voice lower than before. “I want to mark every inch of you.”

His voice demanding now, “Be a good girl, play with yourself with my cum. Let me watch you. I want your cum to mix with mine” 

He dragged his hand up your stomach, smearing the warm slickness along your skin in long, slow swipes. His other hand slid up to your breast, thumb brushing your nipple as he spread the remnants across your chest, possessive but soft. Two fingers finally make his way to your lips, where you obediently open up as he slides them across your tongue.

"You're mine," he whispered.

Then he groaned against your collarbone. You can feel yourself getting close as his hot cum creates an added sensation to your swollen clit.

His cock, still inside you, twitched.

You felt him grow again, hardening with every slow beat of his heart.

“Caleb, please, I want more, I'm so close. Please, I need you again.” you whispered, dazed.

He smiled against your skin.

“Did you think I was done?”

In one smooth shift, he rolled his hips up into you, gravity curling around your spine once again, keeping you exactly where he wanted you—helpless to the slow build starting again. His hand clasped and binds your two hands behind your back. You submit, giving him full control of your body, your moans, and your orgasms.

This time, you knew he would take you even deeper, it was going to be even messier, and he wasn’t going to stop until every inch of you is covered with him.

Lonely star, who do you shine for?

The weight of all your pasts- of all your futures- the guilt and pride you carry will only cause you to collapse, and all that will be left will be an all-consuming black hole. 

Your desperation won’t bring your sun back. 

Lonely king, don’t you know a kingdom devoid of life is a crown devoid of purpose?

You were the fire that left them, and all you have to show for the betrayal is a drowned memory and a heart wrenched from your chest, a broken promise and a forgotten story. 

You’ve changed with each lifetime, but you’ll forever be at the mercy of fate. 

And you? You’re the very curse that haunts them. 

Claws, so cold they burn, emerge from the darkness before piercing through flesh, tearing through muscle and bone as they dig into your ribcage, dragging you down into the shadows. Drowning, falling. You’re spiraling through lifetimes of failure, lifetimes of pain both your own and not, all while the claws dig closer and closer to your heart, clutching the muscle like a songbird in a cage. 

It’s the price, the price you must pay for all this pain you’ve caused, for dooming a star and killing a god. 

The clawed hand wraps around your heart, the piercing into the fluttering pulse faster and faster until—

You wake up crying. 

A hot trail of tears slides into the pillows, and a sniffle rakes through your body, the sudden movement causing a subtle disturbance to the two forms still sound asleep on either side of you. 

Funny, you can’t remember a thing, but there’s a painful throb in your chest. You’ll take another dose of your heart medicine in the morning. 

But for now, your bedroom is still dulled by the pale blue moonlight filtering through the curtains, and you’re in no hurry to get out of the warm covers and their embrace. 

The nightmares have become routine at this point. You never remember what they are, but you wake up with a sense of fear and dread, as though you can feel the pain all over again. It’s best not to think too much about it.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you inhale shakily one last time, trying to shake off the looming feeling when the arm around your waist shifts, tugging lightly at your loose sleep shirt before slipping under to massage the skin beneath. You let out a soft sigh, a light shudder going through your body as the gentle hands work away the tension.

“The same?” Rafayel’s words are slurred with sleep and concern, hot breath dancing along the crook of your neck as he props himself up on his elbow. You nod.

Rafayel makes a small, displeased noise before his other arm pulls you closer, his bare chest now flush against your back. The sudden movement forces Xavier, who was once tucked against your shoulder, further away, grumbling at the loss even in his sleep.

His face scrunches, brows furrowed together before the corners of his lips turn downward, and he blindly reaches for you. He eventually finds the curve of your waist, and his hand tightens on the fabric of your shirt as it slides in above Rafayel’s.

A huff, and Xavier buries his face back into your chest, his warm breath tickling you. And then, gentle snores— you should've known better than to think that would be enough to wake him.

Rafayel, still pressed firmly against your back, begins to move, propping his body up just enough to look you in the eyes as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. "Wanna talk about it, cutie?"

“I… I think you were there, both of you. But it felt lonely, painful.”

Rafayel's face contorts into a worried expression, his hand moves down your cheek, cupping your jaw, and you lean into his warm caress with a sigh.

You place a kiss on his palm. "It's okay, just a scary dream. Nothing real. Nothing to worry about." You repeat it, more to yourself than Rafayel, but his arms wrap around you anyway.

And yet Rafayel looks at you with a deep furrow in his brow, a seriousness you’ve almost never seen on him.

You give him a questioning look, but his lips press to yours in a searing kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. He pulls away only for a second, whispering sweet nothings against your skin before returning his lips to yours, the hand cradling your face slipping down to rest on your hip.

He kisses you softly, gently. First pressing a trail of light, chaste kisses along your jaw, the corners of your mouth, and nose, then moving back to your lips. “We’ll never leave you. We’d tear through every universe, every destiny to get back to you.”

Strange, how Rafayel says it with all the reverence of a vow. 

You want to tease him for the sudden declaration, for making all this fuss over a stupid dream, but you never have the opportunity, not when Rafayel's signature smirk settles back onto his lips. 

His hand slides down to your thighs, fingers teasing around the band of your sleep shorts, toying, pressing, but never crossing the self-imposed boundary of your clothes. “Unless, you’d prefer it if I proved it to you?”

“Rafayel,” you warn, hoping your narrowed glare would dissuade him.

Of course the man only seems to take that as a challenge, smile widening as you flinch at the cold touch creeping under your shirt. One palm traces up your ribcage, long, nimble fingers rubbing circles against your skin until he brushes the underside of your breast. 

You shudder, hissing out another string of curses before turning around so your back is to Rafayel. 

Really, you should know better than to think that alone would be enough, and a hot trail of kisses now joins his wandering hands down your shoulder blade. They start innocent enough, sweet, lingering touches along the hem of your shirt, but that quickly changes when Rafayel’s arm under your shirt practically yanks it up, sucking wet, messy kisses into the bare curves of your chest.

Each nip against your sensitive flesh forces the possibility of sleep further and further away, and you resort to distracting yourself with the motionless silhouette of Xavier. Petting through his hair, your rhythm is jolted every time Rafayel decides to leave a mark, nails pulling through Xavier’s locks as you bite your lip on a moan.

You don't miss the curve of his smirk against your skin, and the next kiss is accompanied by a bite, hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp that stirs Xavier. Tense, you scan the blonde's face, but he's nothing if not a heavy sleeper, and he nuzzles further into your touch, still unconscious as his head tucks under yours.

You don't get to sigh in relief. Instead, a whine builds in your throat, the wet heat of Rafayel's teeth tugging on the strap of your underwear as he fists your sleep shorts down.

"Rafayel, stop it,” you hiss as his hot breath hits the already embarrassingly damp center of your underwear.

His smile grows, lips brushing against your clothed core as he tilts his head. “Hmm? But you don’t sound like you want me to stop. And she certainly doesn’t sound like it either.” Two fingers dip under the band, and he parts your cunt with a lewd click.

Your face flushes in embarrassment, refusing to acknowledge just how easily your body gives in to them. One hand leaves Xavier, roughly fisting into Rafayel’s curls as he groans from the sharp pressure. “That’s because you and Xavier refused to wear protection!” 

The accusation earns a hushed laugh, his shoulders shaking against the insides of your thighs. It would have been innocent, the same contagious sort of smile gracing Rafayel’s face, if not the shadows cast across his face in the dark, teeth gleaming like fangs as he traces his tongue up the entire length of your clothed cunt. 

"M’sorry, we thought you'd enjoy the mess," he says, words muffled over your thighs, nose practically buried in between. "How can I make it up to you, cutie?”

You don’t get a chance to respond, not when Rafayel’s tongue dives into your clothed cunt, moaning against the soaked fabric as you gasp and force him closer by his hair. To muffle his sounds, you tell yourself. A pathetic lie considering how much louder he gets now, nose grinding up against your clit as his tongue tries to press into your fluttering cunt even with the barrier of cloth in between. 

God, he’s addicted, and it doesn’t take long until Rafayel’s spit and your slick soak through your underwear, the near-translucent fabric sticking to your lips as the bare minimum friction nearly drives you insane. 

“Say it,” Rafayel whines, nuzzling his face against your inner thigh. “Please, just tell me how badly you want me. Tell me, and I’ll do anything you ask.”

Like he wouldn’t already.

But how could you ever deny him when he begs so sweetly? 

Your palm cups his face, watching his near-wrecked expression and flushed skin tremble beneath your fingers.  “I’m yours, Rafayel.”

And the fabric is ripped into pieces. 

Refusing to even breathe, Rafayel places an opened-mouth kiss on your cunt, lapping up your slick with the most satisfied moan. He doesn't waste any time, not while your confession coated his mind with the sweetest type of intoxication, eating you out like he was depraved.

He might as well have been with how he moans, hips grinding desperately against the edge of the mattress, his not-entirely human tongue curling in and out of you as it writhes with terrifying accuracy against your walls.

It feels too good to be ashamed of the noises you make, gasping and crying out until you slam your palm over your mouth, biting down hard as the other claws into Rafayel’s hair. You can barely control yourself, half fighting to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure, half rocking your hips up and down his face as you jerk him closer. 

“Mhm, greedy.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat before his words are muffled into your cunt, not baring to part for even a breath. “Pull on it, please. Harder.” 

You tug Rafayel’s hair almost in vengeance when he purposefully kisses away from where you need him most, licking and sucking obscenely into your thighs just to hear your frustrated cries even over your hand. 

He loved being used like this, so long as it was you. 

So long as it was him that turned you into such a beautiful, pathetic mess. 

It's not long until Rafayel pulls you close to the edge, nose pressing against your clit while thrusting his tongue into you, eyes rolling back from the taste and from the thought of your tight heat fluttering around his cock instead. 

And then, he stops, pulling away and leaving you gasping into the tear-stained pillow.

You bite back a sob, releasing only a choked little noise that has Rafayel's eyes flicking up to your face, the soft, concerned look in his eyes melting into something far more dangerous.

With viciously dilated pupils and your slick dripping from his mouth, Rafayel stares you down as every inch the dangerous siren the legends claimed him to be. He smiles, tongue raking over his teeth as though he couldn’t get enough of your taste, and you swear you’d let him eat your heart and soul. Gods, you’d let him eat you whole. 

You realize you must have made a sound, because Rafayel hushes you, pressing quick kisses to your knee. "Aw, what happened to being quiet? Aren't you afraid we'll wake the poor sleeping bunny?" 

At the mention of your other partner, you turn to where Xavier’s nuzzling his face further into your side, each warm breath damp against your feverish skin, still lost to the realm of dreams.

Not that Rafayel allows your attention to turn away from himself for too long. 

He leans over Xavier, the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight cupping your face, and his lips are crashing into yours with all the viciousness of a summer seastorm. Your lips part, and Rafeyel fucks his tongue into your mouth the same he did your pussy, wet and desperate, the taste of yourself enough to make you dizzy. 

"Tell me,” Rafayel’s tone dips into something darker, kissing down your throat and stomach as he eyes Xavier. “Who’s the better lover?" 

Xavier's fingers flex, the tips brushing against the curve of your breast as he sleeps, and Rafayel's smile is almost predatory.

"D-don't ask stupid questions you dumb fish," your voice cracks as Rafayel's mouth ghosts over your cunt, teeth bared to your thigh, threatening to bite. "I chose you both."

The confession, as expected, doesn't please him. If anything, he seems overly offended, pouting and huffing a cold breath of air right against your aching core. The chill makes you squirm, trying to force him back to your center with the grip you have on his hair.

"No. Nope. That's not an answer."

"Raf–"

His name breaks off in a moan, sound ripped from your throat as Rafayel's thumb starts rubbing firm circles around your neglected clit. He doesn't relent, the pressure too much, too quick, your body already trembling from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to torture you with.

Only, it seems that all your sudden noise and movement have finally begun to affect Xavier. Not enough to wake him, but enough that you can hear his breathing become heavier, following your every twitch and buck from Rafayel’s onslaught as his body begins to grind into yours.

Mumbling into your neck, Xavier’s hand tightens around your waist before slipping under your shirt to palm your breasts, squeezing and kneading until the touch has you keening.

Xavier's still fast asleep, nonsensical words slurred against your skin, and yet his body is now far from it. His erection is thick and heavy against your hips, grinding desperately into your warmth almost in time to Rafayel’s ministrations, whimpering under his breath with every forceful thrust. 

Rafayel notices too, his gaze drifting up to the blond. You can't see his face, already busied between your legs once more, but a pleased hum vibrates through his entire body, fingers finally slipping into your cunt as he curls them just right, your back arching off the sheets with a silent scream. 

Xavier whines at your sudden thrashing, tugging you closer and unknowingly forcing you immobile and at complete mercy to Rafayel’s unfairly skilled fingers. "Mhm, so warm. Please, m’want to..." Another needy, slow grind against you follows his sleepy request. 

"Rafayel," you choke out a muffled plea, but his eyes only narrow, taking a breath as his free hand grabs at Xavier's ass, the touch just light enough to tease and make him rut harder against you.

"What is it, cutie? Don't pretend like you don't want more, not when your pretty pussy's drooling for his cock. She’s so needy, am I not enough?”

Rafayel rests his head on the inside of your thigh, fingers thrusting roughly into that sweet spongy spot inside you just as his other hand wraps around the base of Xavier's cock through his boxers, thumbing over the pre-cum staining the dark fabric. 

You're forced to bite down on the pillow beneath your head to stop the desperate cry tearing itself out of your throat. "This isn’t- ah- isn’t right."

"Isn't it? You’re dripping and the little bunny’s still asleep, yet look how desperate he is, rutting against you." Rafayel's voice dips, a raspy edge from his throat still fucking into you making it even more sinful, slurping everything you give him around his fingers before it drips down his wrist and into a puddle below. A huff, “I should get rewarded with how much effort I’m putting in.”

You cry out, legs trembling as his thumb begins its relentless attack on your clit, tracing mindless circles just random enough to keep you on edge. You're close, and Rafayel can feel it.

Xavier isn’t faring much better, whimpering a string of incoherent pleas into the crook of your neck as his hips keep rocking into the fist around him. He doesn't take his mouth away from the skin of your shoulder, biting down on it as he cums, shuddering and whimpering as the mess splatters down Rafayel's knuckles and onto your thighs. 

“You’re next. If you won’t be honest with me, I’ll make your body is.” Rafayel’s taunt is the last coherent thing you remember before you come. Hard. His words ring against your skull as his fingers pump into you faster, and the pressure against your clit becomes almost unbearable, and you're falling apart, crying and thrashing, the only thing keeping you grounded is the feeling of Rafayel's weight and the scent of Xavier's strawberry shampoo, and then—

Rafayel finally shuts up to let you ride his face through your high, letting you use him as your thighs lock around his head, grinding desperately as though he were no more than a toy. No chance of breathing, no chance of escape. 

Not that he could care less, not as long as he could keep his lips around your gushing cunt, humming and sucking into your release as cum sprays over his tongue and down his chin. Gods, he could never get enough of this.

You're still shaking through your orgasm, pliant and stupid from the dizzying pleasure, that you don't notice the rustle of sheets until a second pair of hands slide down your thighs. 

"You’re doing this without me?" 

Xavier’s voice is a whisper, husky from sleep and his orgasm as he presses a kiss right below your ear, fingers squeezing rougher against your breasts.

"S-sorry. Didn't want to wake you," you try, biting back a gasp when his thumb flicks over a nipple. Rough. Mean. 

Rafayel snorts. "I think it's a bit too late for that.” A glare at Xavier over your leg, showing off your cum still dripping from his lips and fingers. ”Besides, I didn't need you."

You want to argue, really, but then Xavier is grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging just hard enough to push your head back, coaxing a moan from your throat as he marks down your neck with kisses intending to bruise. He’s pouting, grabbing your jaw as he forces your gaze away from Rafayel, nipping your bottom lip until you surrender to his drowsy advances.

“Why…” Another kiss before Xavier's licking desperately into your mouth, “Why didn't you wake me?"

The question comes out a little breathless, almost petulant, eyes hooded and dark as he looks over the mess Rafayel has made of you. He can't tear his eyes away, watching Rafayel even as he kisses you. His fingers flick over your nipple again, twisting and pinching until you're shaking, your thighs squeezing Rafayel's face, all while Xavier watches.

Said man only smiles, all smug arrogance. "Didn't you hear her, Xav? She said she didn't want to wake you, so don't blame me."

Rafayel drags a wet, open-mouthed kiss over your cunt, the overstimulation making you break the kiss with a gasp.

"Liar." Xavier's voice trembles, and you can't tell if he's referring to Rafayel's words, or the way he's staring longingly at Rafayel's lips now, still slick with your release. "You just wanted her all to yourself."

He doesn't bother giving Rafayel a chance to retort, taking the punishment out on you as he dips his head underneath your folded-up shirt, groaning as his hot tongue rolls over your nipple, sucking at the stiff peak as his hand continues to assault the other. The onslaught has you whimpering, pushing and clawing against Xavier’s shoulder to try and fight him off as he refuses to let go for even a moment. 

Rafayel's not one to be ignored, not when he has the advantage, and his tongue is back to fucking into your cunt with no reprieve, a cruel smirk on his face as you writhe and beg for their mercy.

Your hips roll, torn between pleasure and oversensitivity, unable to escape either of the men. It's overwhelming. Too much, too quickly, you only just came and you're already getting dragged back.

"Ah! Stop, I'm already mhm—"

You're interrupted by Xavier's tongue slipping into your mouth, a filthy, lazy slide that makes you grind up into Rafayel's tongue. It's like he doesn't even need to breathe, the wet, sloppy sounds of him eating you out drowned out only by the sound of Xavier kissing you senseless, pausing just to nip and suck at your breasts as though he'll get rewarded if he just tries hard enough. 

"You want him to stop? Is the mermaid not enough to satisfy you, princess?" Xavier taunts, lips brushing against your ear as his hips push up, grinding his cock against your thigh. "If that's the case, perhaps we should switch. I can give you exactly what you want, remember?"

“Shut up, I’m the one making her cum.”

“Only cause I wasn’t awake yet.”

“You snooze, you lose. Whose fault is that? Oh ya, yours.” 

They're at each other's throats yet again, practically clawing and snapping at each other, and you're helpless to try and intervene when they take their faux anger out on your poor abused body. 

You can't think, can't focus, can't do anything but shake and pant and sob into the pillow, their combined weight on top of you, forcing your pleasure higher and higher. 

“Xav—" He cuts you off with a kiss. 

“Shh, just take it."

You can't even tell who’s sloppier anymore- Xavier fucking your mouth with his tongue or Rafayel still eating you through your second orgasm, the sudden hit of it thundering down your body. 

“You look so pretty when you come," Xavier moans into your lips, his eyes half-lidded and glazed, hand coming up to stroke your cheek as he watches you, a sharp contrast to the other still rolling against your swollen nipple, loving the way you jerk into his touch. Then a glare to the man below. "My turn.”

Your body is still trembling, Rafayel's merciless fingers not allowing you to come down from your high, aftershocks of hypersensitivity crashing down your spine as every muscle spasms. No more. No more, please. You can’t possibly come again. 

You don't realize you’re begging out loud, not until Xavier shushes you with another bruising kiss. 

But it doesn't seem like Rafayel has any plans on stopping, not until Xavier’s hand skims down your thighs and yanks him up by the chain of his necklace. 

Rafayel growls as he's practically forced off your weeping cunt, eyes bleary and unfocused as he fights the blond's grip. And god, he looks absolutely wrecked, spit and cum dripping from his mouth and chin, connecting his lips to your pussy in sticky wet strands before they break, and you feel the unmistakable bulge of his cock straining against his soaked boxers. 

Xavier yanks him forward, pulling the necklace chain until he crashes his lips onto Rafayel's, all teeth and tongue, desperate to get a taste of your cum from his mouth. It's filthy, and Rafayel is the first to give in, still drunk off your taste and now Xavier's too.

"Mhm, you taste like her," Xavier whispers, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together, his mouth still moving against Rafayel's swollen, parted lips.

"Ya?" Rafayel’s grin is predatory, all fang and sin. "You wanna try too, don’t you? Give in then, bunny, lie down for us.”

"I don't take orders from you." 

Xavier scowls against Rafayel's lips, but you can feel his resolve breaking, his arm trembling where it rests against your thigh. 

"No, you take them from her, and she asked us so, so nicely to make her come. You wouldn't dare deny her that, would you?”

The Lemurian is nothing if not dangerously persistent, one hand coaxing Xavier backward so gently you don’t think he realizes how easily he’s falling, the other clawing down his abs as Rafayel bites against the erratic thud of Xavier’s pulse. Sharp and bruising, a silent promise for what to come. "Or do you wanna eat her out like I did? Have her ride your face while I fuck into her poor, desperate cunt? I can't decide, there are so many options."

“No.” It’s more a plea than a demand. Xavier's voice shakes with need, and you watch, dizzy and panting, as Rafayel's fingers slip underneath the waistband of Xavier's boxers. His fingers, still dripping with your cum, brush down the length of his cock, thumb circling the sensitive head and smearing the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from it. “You had y-your turn.” 

He can hardly finish his objection, not when Rafayel’s thumb comes up to abuse his leaking slit, Xavier’s words slurring into a desperate whine as he practically collapses back onto his elbows. Immediately, Rafayel is atop him.

"A competition, then." Rafayel leans down to whisper into Xavier's ear, but the words are purposefully teased out loud enough for you to hear, “But you lose if you cum first, and I get to fuck her.”

It's a low blow, a challenge he knows Xavier can't turn down. 

A challenge that somehow has you poised once again as the torment and the reward.

And it's true, because the second the words register, the blond's eyes shoot open, and his cock jerks violently against Rafeyel’s palm, a broken sound leaving his lips as his eyes lock back onto yours with all the promise of a starving hunter.

"Deal.”

Xavier doesn't allow the agreement to go without a price. Something snaps, the bedroom flickering with a sudden darkness as all the light vanishes. 

One moment, you’re lying against the bed, and the next Xavier manhandles you to your knees, one hand forcing your arms behind your back as he tugs you against him, the other pinning Rafayel to the mattress.

Rafayel’s the very picture of smug sin, the feral expression far more genuine, less threatening and much more amused as he nestles further into the pillows, one arm tucked lazily behind his head. 

Cold fingers dance up your hips, and Rafayel drags your bare cunt over his thighs and onto his lap, a pleased sigh escaping his lips as you're pinned deliciously between his cock and Xavier's sculpted back.

"So needy, little bunny."

"Shut up. I'm not the one who's leaking."

Rafayel snorts, and before the two can start fighting again, you're leaning forward, a hand resting against Rafayel's abs as you cup his erection through his boxers. And when he moans you believe every myth, every fairytale singing the doom of sailors to a siren song, because every sound he gives you is addictive and sweet enough that you’d drown to hear it again. 

Pulling Rafayel's cock out from his boxers, you’re stunned yet again by the slightly non-human beauty of it, heavy and thick in your palm, the flushed, ruddy tip already drooling precum as you thumb at it in vengeance. You know Xavier's watching from the way his own cock twitches against your back, hands digging bruises into your hips. Then, the warmth at your back disappears. 

Instead, a pair of hands drag your ass up, forcing you into a deep arch as you scramble for purchase against Rafayel’s thigh and the bed below.

“Closer.” Xavier’s hand laces into your hair as he pushes your head down, forcing your mouth to nuzzle against the base of Rafayel's cock. 

The movement pulls a gasp from both of you, your hot breath teasing the sensitive skin of Rafayel's shaft and forcing a shudder from his entire body. 

Seeing the two of you completely at his mercy does terrible, horrible things to Xavier, and his fingers dig bruises into your hips as it takes him everything not to forgo the competition and fuck you right there. 

"Good girl,” he hums, voice trembling as his grip tightens against your hair, giving you a harsh glare when you whine and squirm in his hold. "Now open."

You can't bring yourself to say no, not when the sight of Rafayel's eyes rolling back the second you do makes your stomach clench. His cock twitches against you as you lick at the copious amounts of cum leaking from his tip, then obediently wrap your lips around him.

With a smile that would have you shaking, Xavier leans down, barely able to continue guiding your head as he’s entranced with the mess between your legs, licking up the slick dripping down your thighs as he sucks against the delicate flesh, marking right over the sensitive bruises Rafayel had only just left behind. 

 “This- hah-” Rafayel curses under his breath, the single word breaking off into a moan, the sound muffled by his palm as his chest heaves. “This is hardly fair.”

But his complaints feel half-hearted, not with the way he’s already rutting into your mouth, Xavier’s iron grip keeping you in place as Rafayel thrusts himself into your mouth in one breath. You yield pathetically quick, flattening your tongue against the slick underside of his cock, another stream of pre-cum flooding your mouth as you nearly choke on it all, unable to pull off to even take a breath as Xavier guides your head up and down in a steady rhythm that has Rafayel falling apart. 

It’s cruel, but you can't help each pathetic moan that gets muffed onto Rafayel’s cock, the vibrations forcing his back to arch off the bed, head rolling back as it thuds against the pillows, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps in shallow breaths.

You almost wish he would let you see his eyes, but then you'd miss the view of his chest, every muscle tight and twitching under his skin, the mesmerizing sight now blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You can't resist reaching up, dragging your nails down his abs, watching his body jerk against every new line of red.

"Please,” you're not sure if the broken whimper belonged to Rafayel or yourself. “Please, I can't wait anymore, wanna feel you— fuck— wanna fill you up again, please let me cum." It's like just the very thought has Rafayel keening, his hips jerking up into your hot mouth with reckless abandon as Xavier forces your spine up into a deeper arch.

You're nearly bent in half, the new angle leaving no part of you hidden from Xavier's hungry gaze as he watches you practically drool over Rafayel’s cock, lips meeting his pelvis as he breaches your throat. 

Xavier’s going to win. He needs to win. 

The thought makes him frantic, tongue fucking past the tight resistance of your cunt, his hand sliding up to tease at your clit. He won't be the one to finish first, not this time. Not when he's wanted nothing more than to feel your cunt gushing around him ever since Rafayel woke him up, ever since the two of you had the audacity to start this without him.

Rafayel can’t last much longer, especially not when you bring one shaking hand down to massage his swollen balls, hardly in control of your own movements as you feel dizzy on the addictive combination from the lack of oxygen and pleasure as Xavier begins to eat you out like a man starved. 

The room’s filled with the sounds of each slick, messy movement, whimpers from the man beneath you and breathless pleas from the one behind, bed rattling with every thrust. 

And yet you’re still so painfully empty. So, so, empty as your cunt flutters around Xavier’s tongue before he relents to kiss your clit once more, dragging a dissatisfied whine from you as you fight yourself off Rafayel’s cock. 

"F-fuck me. Please," A sob, and you feel both Rafayel and Xavier shudder. "It’s not enough. Want your cocks inside me, wanna cum on it. Need it, please-"

Oh, and when you beg like that, they should have known they never would have stood a chance.

"Shit."

"Ah, please-"

It's a blur. A rush of hands, of pleasure and pain, all of it colliding and dragging you to the edge. The room spins, the ceiling above you falling until the familiar, comforting feeling of slick muscle embraces you, grounding you as you focus on the erratic heartbeat between each ragged exhale. 

You're still sandwiched between them, lying on Rafayel as Xavier's weight drapes across your back, head propped up on the former's chest as you stare blearily at his silver pendant, unable to move. You're not even sure if you can, not with the way Xavier's still gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading you open as he forces one leg higher up.

Then, the blunt head of his cock grinds between your folds.

Xavier’s pressing his forehead against your back, wrapping his arms around you before biting into the crook of your neck. "You mean it? You’ll let us come inside again?"

Rafayel laughs, a raspy sound still raw from his orgasm. "Well, we both lost. Now what, bunny? We can't just leave her like this, poor thing is trembling." 

"Mhm,” Xavier forces you up, “We both fuck her then."

His words only make you whimper, body jerking uselessly against Xavier's grip. His hands lift you as Rafayel flips you around so you're now facing the blond, flinching violently as his cock brushes your swollen clit, any semblance of protest quelled as Xavier pulls you into another messy kiss. 

It’s demanding, Xavier mumbling achingly sweet praises into your open mouth as he begins to press you down, faster, harsher, forcing you onto Rafayel’s lap in a reverse cowgirl as you slide down slowly, taking inch by inch of Rafayel’s throbbing cock. There’s hardly any blue left in Xavier’s blow-out pupils, too mesmerized by the slick mess you’re gushing down their thighs. And just when you begin to squirm, impatient and desperate, Xavier slows their pace even more.

"Shhh, we need to make sure you'll be able to take both of us."

Rafayel's hand is wrapped around your waist, thumb rubbing small circles into your stomach, and if it weren't for Xavier's arms locked around you, holding you upright, you would have collapsed the second Rafayel pressed into the spot his fingers had found.

"Look at you," he purrs, a low sound that has you gasping. "So pretty when you’re needy. Can you feel me?"

It's hard not to. Everywhere feels warm, and every slow thrust, no matter how gentle, has a small burst of ecstasy building in your stomach, a wave crashing higher and higher as the two of them slowly fuck you full. Just as you’re nearly seated all the way onto Rafayel’s length, Xavier’s palms come up to the back of your knees, folding them up and forcing you backward until you’re practically lying prone atop of Rafayel.

Your head lolls uselessly against Rafayel's neck, gasping at the force of the new position,  and you're not sure if it's the tears in your eyes or the overwhelming pressure against your walls as they stretch around his cock that's making the world so blurry. Xavier soon follows you down, pressing you closer into Rafayel’s chest as his lips trail your jaw, your neck, your sucking against every sensitive spot behind your ears until you're distracted from the pain.

"You're doing so good, princess. Just a little more."

The sudden onslaught of pressure of both of you atop him has Rafayel flinching, and he hisses out a pained moan, hips jerking up into the slick heat of your pussy, and it's only Xavier's grip that keeps the two of you from slipping off.

"Hah- hurry up-" Rafayel's eyes are glassy, his head tipped back and face twisted in pleasure. 

Strings of incoherent pleas are whispered against your ear, Rafayel marking up the left side of your neck while Xavier’s still busy with the right, that is, until Xavier switches sides, biting right over Rafayel’s marks until he’s pulled up into a desperate kiss.

The wet sounds of their lips are filthy and obscene, each hot breath and moan brushing past your ear as you writhe, pressed between them. Rafayel's cock is already swelling, twitching against the fluttering walls of your pussy, unwilling to fully pull out, settling to just grinding up in slow, cruel thrusts before something in him snaps and he switches to pounding against your abused walls.

Every time you think you’ll finally come Rafayel switches pace, the obscene slap of skin on skin muffled only by your sobs and their kissing. 

You’re close, so so fucking close you feel your muscles begin to shake. Xavier only pushes you down further, every angle a new cruelty, smothering you between them, rendering you unable to do anything but take it.

Again, Rafayel slows, and you slur curses down at him as your thighs tremble from overstimulation, shaking violently until you feel something grab your calf. Xavier massages the quivering muscle, gentle until he’s suddenly pressing your knee higher and higher, going until it’s pinned to the mattress up against your head.

And now Rafayel is hitting impossibly deeper, abusing your poor g-spot with each thrust. 

Xavier kisses your ankle, then calf, making his way up your leg until he can nip at your inner thighs now folded over his shoulder. And then you feel the pressure of his cock at your already full entrance. Xavier’s hand dips down between your bodies, trying to bully himself in alongside Rafayel, but his cock slides past your navel, slick and covered in your combined cum. 

"No, no no, not gonna fit- ah- Xavier!"

Your words break off into a wail as he tries again, grinding closer so you’re tightly cradled between the two, Xavier leaning fully atop you both. A snarl grits through his jaw when his cock slips past again, readjusting you so your legs fall apart wider, the burn in your thighs turning delicious and overwhelming, pussy weeping around Rafayel’s cock as Xavier’s swollen, leaking head bumps against your clit. 

Xavier watches the mess, every thrust and messy squirt of cum, brows furrowed and flushed a deep red, as he whines into your shoulder, "Please- can't stop- please let me fuck you too, you'll look so pretty with both of us filling you up, taking us so good- don’t make me stop."

He’s reduced to babbling against your neck, biting down hard enough to bleed when your cunt finally yields to him too, cockhead bumping into Rafayel’s as he slowly pushes in inch and inch, trembling from the combined pleasure of your walls and the violent throbbing of every vein now grinding together.

It's too much, it’s not enough, the stretch and the friction and the pressure leaving you fucked stupid, hands scrambling for purchase. Rafayel grunts when your nails drag across his thighs, his own hands coming to latch onto your wrists, pinning them above his head, forcing you motionless between them.

You can do nothing but sob, tears streaming down your face as your entire body convulses. And when they finally, finally bottom out together, the world goes white.

"Shh, you're alright," Rafayel soothes, although his voice is trembling, the sound broken as he tries to catch his breath. "Doing so well for us, cutie, so perfect."

Xavier growls, his hands grabbing the headboard. He's barely holding on, not with the way Rafayel's cock twitches against his own, your hot walls clenched tightly around the two of them as you beg.

"Please, can't- too much, more, I need-"

There's a broken sob, and then Xavier’s slamming his hips forward, fucking into you with a brutality he usually saves for Rafayel, the force sending the three of you rocking against the mattress, headboard splintering under the strength of his grip. The other leaves to thumb at your nipples, lips following suit as he rambles, drunk off your pussy, "These would look s'pretty filled, even more sensitive. Bet you'd let us milk you, fill you up even more."

"And here, you'll feel us here too, won't you?" A hand moves lower- whose you no longer are coherent enough to care- brushing over the swell of your abdomen, the slight bulge appearing and disappearing where both of them are thrusting violently into you. "Be a waste not to. Imagine it, a painted mess filled with us.”

And you are. You can't think about anything else, not with the way they're stuffing you full— every time Rafayel's cock would settle near your g-spot Xavier’s would ram back in, forcing the former up against your cervix before pulling out entirely, repeating the vicious rhythm as the pain bled into pleasure. 

Tears stream down the side of your face, room spinning into dizziness until all that remains are the burning trails of their touch, the only things keeping you grounded. 

Rafayel's sucking into your shoulder, biting the sweat-slicked flesh, and you can feel his hips begin to stutter underneath you, already reaching his high despite Xavier still pounding into you with the same intensity, desperate to catch up.

The moment Xavier feels Rafayel's release, it's over. Your back arches up against him, convulsing against their hold, your abused walls clenching down so tightly that you’re practically begging for them to come inside, sucking them in deeper and deeper until it’s impossible for them not to follow.

It's a violent orgasm, hot squirt of your cum drenching Xavier’s abs, the intensity of it causing Rafayel’s vision to white out too, unable to hear the desperate sounds of your moans, not when his blood is rushing past his ears.

Then, the world comes crashing back.

Rafayel’s panting, still thrusting weakly into the slick, tight heat as he emptied himself inside you, the sheer overload of it gushing down your legs and onto the sheets. 

"Ah- Xavier," you whine, the sound muffled into his chest as Xavier continues to chase after his high, too lost in his late orgasm to pull out.

The overstimulation is torture, your body twitching and trembling with every sloppy thrust. The moment he finally pulls out, the mess follows, thick, white rivets leaking down your thighs, the sheer volume near damn concerning had you the capacity to focus on it.

Rafayel laughs, fingers swirling through the cum as though painting your thighs, "That's not going to be easy to clean up."

"S'gonna look pretty. Messy. Full." Xavier murmurs, still pinning the both of you beneath him as he collapses in exhaustion, fingers dancing over the small swell in your stomach. Pressing lightly, he watches in fascination as their mixed cum gushes out faster, and you whimper, gripping his wrists to stop before they get any more ideas. 

You're not sure what's worse, the fact that they're both still hard and the way they're looking at you, or the fact that their words have your exhausted body already trying to recover, a shiver running through your sore muscles as the room's cool air brushes over the slick, sticky mess between your thighs.

"You're both so disgusting," you groan, the words coming out slurred and barely audible. 

"You love it."

"Yeah," Xavier's agreement is soft and almost hesitant. "You love us."

"Yes, I love both of you. Now get the fuck off of me." A shove, your shaking arm barely affecting Xavier as he finally relents, a small smile on his lips as he rolls the three of you down into the bed, resting on your sides. 

The muscles in your thighs scream in relief as they’re finally placed down, every inch of your body sore and marked up in one way or another, every visible bruise and bite getting pampered in faux apologies by the two men snuggling up next to you.

It’s a tangle of limbs, Xavier already claiming your chest again as he nuzzles into your breasts while Rafayel simply curls himself around your back. A hand there, an arm there, and a little more muffled bickering. Yet you all fit together, and sleep comes easy now. 

It’s been six days, fourteen hours, and three minutes since you’ve last contacted Rafayel. 

Not that he’s been counting.

Again, he flips his phone around, scrolling through dozens of notifications, and not bothering to read a single one as he fails yet again to find your name among them. A scowl, and he tosses his phone across the couch. Insane doesn’t begin to describe the spiral Rafayel has descended into since you infiltrated the N109 Zone— since he reluctantly agreed to set you up as bait and watched you get taken away. 

Since he made a deal with the devil on your behalf. 

“The Nest, you actually got it? How?” 

“You doubted me, cutie?”

“Doubt?” You snort, rolling your eyes as you yank Rafayel closer by the collar, gaze flickering from his lips, eyes, and back again. Leaning in closer, you wait until Rafayel’s eyes nearly flutter shut before pulling back, snatching the invitation from his hands with a smirk. “Never, fishie.”

Rafayel now wishes you had. Wishes he finally kissed you, wishes he never let you go. At least, not alone. 

The memories and regrets tug at him so violently that he can’t stand it, every “what if” fear blending in with shattered memories of you dying before him in lives past, bloody and heart torn from your chest as he’s doomed to chase after you again and again and again. 

Rafayel stands abruptly, chair falling back with a bang. 

Fuck it, he’s going after you. 

The damned N109 Zone never changes. 

Different venues, different gang names, different “world-ending” weapons. But even after several millennia, the greed and stupidity of humankind remains forever stagnant and forever their greatest weakness. That, and the nauseating smell of gunpowder and whiskey. 

It all makes Rafayel’s stomach roll, and he thumbs at his tie, slacking against his neck before he snatches a glass of champagne from a waiter. Unsurprisingly he does recognize a handful of faces, some from his own gallery exhibitions, others as past targets, or grandchildren of someone he used to know. Not that any of them mattered.

He walked down a hallway filled with Protocores leading up to the banquet hall, and yet strangely enough every last one was bought for an exorbitant amount, even the smallest fragment that barely emitted any kind of energy. What kind of idiot…

Rafayel’s frown deepens, and he shoots down yet another glass, moving from champagne to whiskey as he winces from the burn. 

Then, Rafayel spots you.

You’re alive. 

You’ve alive and you look absolutely fucking gorgeous, prowling across the auction in a cocktail dress, fabric dark enough that it only shimmers a deep red when you dance from spotlight to spotlight. 

Before he even realizes it, he’s running. Trying and failing for it to look as natural as possible, slamming into a waiter and mumbling out an apology as he rushes to your side, nearly dashing onto the dance floor when the shadows seem to lunge– growing and shifting and laughing in an ancient language Rafayel can barely understand as something else steps out from them. And wraps a clawed hand around your waist.

Another man, infuriatingly tall and reeking of the sky and ashes, his hair bleached the same pale color, leans down to whisper something into your ear as you laugh. Laugh. 

And gods new and old, Rafayel sees red. 

Rafayel’s breath catches, chest tightening with a fury so raw it feels like it might crack him open. The din of laughter and clinking glasses becomes a dull roar in his ears, drowned out by the pounding of his heart. He barely registers the heat raging down his veins, a warning that his restraint is fraying faster than he can piece it together.

An uproar of murmuring steals your attention away from Sylus, and you finally allow your fake smile to drop.

Only for your jaw to fall entirely as you see Rafayel standing only a couple of meters away, violent white flames licking against his fingertips as other guests begin to gather. 

What the fuck is he doing here. 

“Rafayel.” Your voice cuts through him, hissing in warning. But the sound of it— alive, steady, and wholly unimpressed— does nothing to soothe him. If anything, it stokes the fire.

Sylus turns slowly, his lips curling into a lazy smile. When his eyes land on Rafayel, something flickers in the depths of his right pupil. “Oh?” he drawls, voice dripping with amusement, “Looks like you picked up a stray, kitten.”

The nickname grates against your nerves, but it’s nothing compared to the way Rafayel reacts. His flames flare brighter, casting eerie shadows across the room as his fists clench. “Take your hand off her.” 

More patrons are beginning to notice. 

Sylus’s grip on your waist doesn’t waver. Instead, he tilts his head, “Her? Oh, you must mean my companion for tonight.” He shifts slightly, leaning down as if to make a point, his hands brushing against the small of your back, right where the silk meets bare skin. “I think you have it mistaken though, she’s the one who practically dragged me here. Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

Your pulse spikes, a mix of anger and frustration coursing through you. You force yourself to step between them, planting a hand firmly against Rafayel’s chest before he can close the distance. Thankfully, it makes the flames sputter down to a dull glow in his palms. 

“Stop,” you hiss. “What the hell are you doing here, Rafayel?”

His eyes lock onto yours, wild and burning with an intensity that makes it impossible to look away. “I came for you,” he snaps as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, congratulations,” you snort, “you found me.” Glancing over your shoulder, you catch the glint of recognition in the eyes of more than a few guests. “And so has everyone else I’ve been trying to avoid.”

Rafayel doesn’t flinch, his gaze darting briefly to Sylus before returning to you. “I don’t care about them,” he mutters, brows furrowing. “I care about you. I never should have left you, let you go. Come back with me.”

Before you can even respond a deep chuckle cuts through, Sylus stepping forward as he tucks you into his side and reaches around to place a hand on Rafayel’s shoulder. Pinning you between them. “Touching. But you should know better than to interrupt our business, artist.”

Rafayel’s flames reignite instantly, searing white-hot as he shoves Sylus’s hand off his shoulder. “I already told you to get your hands off her,” he growls, stepping forward, entire body radiating heat as he’s mere inches from Sylus’s face.

“Or what?” Sylus taunts smoothly, something in his eye flashing with amusement. “You’ll set this whole place on fire? Very subtle. I can see why you’re such a popular target.”

Target? You linger on it longer than you should've, pieces about Rafayel’s surprising knowledge about the N109 Zone and Sylus’s insistence on resonating as your partner begins to swirl around again. That is, until you physically feel the heat from Rafayel’s flames begin to char into the wooden floorboards. 

“Stop it, both of you!”

Snapping, both of their heads whip down to you as you struggle to shove them apart. “You’re drawing attention. Do you want to blow this mission completely?”

“Mission?” Rafayel scoffs, his gaze snapping back to you. “If this was a mission, why would you agree to work with him?” He tilts his chin to Sylus, who simply shrugs, shadows flickering and rising at his back. Shit. 

“Her choice, really,” Sylus says, voice dripping with false sincerity. “Not that I blame her. All bark and no bite, aren’t you, puppy?”

Rafayel goes deathly still.

So Sylus allows himself to step closer, chest now pressing up against your bare back, the gesture irritatingly casual. Intimate. “It must be exhausting,” he continues, “Running around, chasing after scraps of attention. Does she even notice? Or is this just another case of unrequited devotion?”

“Say that again,” Rafayel growls, flames licking up his palm.

Sylus grins wider, clearly enjoying every second. Enjoying his reactions. “Oh, I’m sorry, did that strike a nerve? You must be used to following orders by now, so tell me, does she ever let you off leash, or do you only bark when commanded?”

“Sylus,” you snap again, cutting off whatever retort Rafayel has ready. You glance around, realizing the murmuring crowd has turned into a full-fledged audience, their gazes sharp and curious. “You’re both acting like children. The target—”

The sound of shattering glass cuts you off.

You whip your head around, just in time to see a hooded figure perched atop an overturned table. A small, cylindrical case glints in their hand, and your blood turns cold as you feel the overwhelming pulse of an unleashed Aether Core. 

“Run!”

The word barely leaves your mouth before the world explodes.

A deafening boom shatters through the venue, blast wave throwing you backward. The force knocks the air from your lungs, glass and debris raining down like jagged confetti. You hit the ground hard, pain shooting through your side as the heat of the explosion sears your skin.

Through the haze of smoke and ringing in your ears, you catch fragmented images: chandeliers crashing to the floor, tables splintered, and guests scrambling for cover and weapons as gunshots ring out.

Sylus is a blur of movement, his shadows coiling and slashing through the chaos. Rafayel is kneeling beside you, flames erupting instinctively to shield both of you, looking down with wide eyes.

“Get—” you try to shout, but another powerful wave of the protocore squeezes your heart, and your vision blurs as you heave for breath.

The last thing you see is Sylus stepping over Rafayel’s crumpled form, hauling him over one shoulder before beginning to carry you, too.

Then, nothing.

It’s cold. 

The explosion. The Aether Core. Sylus. Rafayel.

A gasp tears from your lips as you jolt awake, your body reacting before your mind catches up. The world spins in protest as you try and sit up, chest heaving like it’s trying to claw back air that’s been ripped away. Spinning, the world is still spinning as control of your body returns to you—pain prickles along your limbs, your skin freezing against the stiff leather beneath you.

Blinking hard, you push up on trembling arms, the faint scent of dust and something metallic clogging your nose. The ache in your skull is relentless, pulse hammering against your temples. You’re not in the banquet hall anymore. There’s no fire, no rubble, no echoing gunshots. 

Instead, shadows claw at the corners of a room you don’t recognize. Empty walls of an office greet you, dark and seemingly abandoned with an unlit fireplace, heavy drapes smothering the windows, and a lavish seating area you’re in the midst of with a couch, coffee table, and—

Someone’s there.

Slumped in a leather chair near the fireplace, head tilted at an unnatural angle, is… “Rafayel.”

You call out to him in a gasp, a raw mix of relief and dread. His head hangs low, chin brushing his chest, his arms seemingly tied behind his back. For one desperate, fleeting moment, you think he’s asleep. But the light catches on something wrong, something warping along his body. 

Shadows.

They slither down his chest and around his legs, dark, writhing tendrils of unnatural energy that pulse and coil, anchoring him to the chair. They’re the only thing keeping his unconscious form upright, taut and unyielding, glowing faintly at the edges with an unmistakably familiar red glow. 

“Relax, he’s not dead.”

The voice is a smooth drawl, and your head whips around to find a heavy desk in the center of the office, and of course, the origin of the voice seated at the head of the desk, arms crossed as he watches you with an amused smirk.

“What did you do, Sylus?”

Your hands instinctively go for your guns but only brush against empty holsters instead. Weaponless, you stumble off the couch, placing yourself between Rafayel and the still-seated man as you glare down at him. 

Sylus doesn’t even flinch. If anything, your anger only seems to amuse him further. 

“We had a chat while you were sleeping.” With a sigh, he rises from his chair, every movement exuding practiced ease as he encircles the desk, making his way to you. A crow circling a corpse. “Turns out you’ve been keeping more from me than I thought. That, and your memory truly is terrible.”

Sylus stops just short of you, tilting his head back as his eyes roam your face, his grin growing sharper, fang peaking out. “Not one but two immortals? You certainly are greedy, aren’t you, kitten?”

Your stomach twists. 

Nothing he’s saying makes sense, but the words cut into your gut regardless. Like a broken promise, like an old wound. “Let him go, Sylus. Now.”

But Sylus doesn’t move. He stands there, tapping a hand to his chin, studying you with a look that makes your heart throb, his right eye beginning to glow a crimson red. Amusement flickers behind his eyes, but there’s something else, too. Something darker.

“Twice,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, his gaze slipping briefly to Rafayel’s bound form. “Twice, you’ve cursed those who thought themselves unstoppable. Twice, you’ve bound your heart and soul.” His eyes snap back to yours, glinting with a sharp, cruel edge. “Not that you’d remember.”

Almost like he’s in pain. You stiffen, breath catching in your throat.

“Humans,” Sylus continues, the word dripping with scorn. “So quick to lay claim to what they desire, so insatiably greedy.” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, heavy with mockery, hands ghosting down your side as you shiver despite yourself. “And you, sweetie, are no different.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A chuckle, “Of course you don’t.”

Sylus fights the urge to laugh. No wonder the god of the ocean itself followed you around like a lovesick puppy— Sylus was hardly taking it any better, but at least he just had the self-control to hide his obsession.

A strained groan echoes through the room, low and guttural. Your head snaps toward Rafayel, the sight of his head lifting weakly making your heart lurch. His hair is matted with sweat, and when he looks up, his sunset eyes are furious blue, darker than the ocean itself, narrowing to slits as the shadows twist tighter around his body. 

There’s a moment, just a heartbeat, where you see something raw in his gaze. Relief. Desperation. And then, it’s gone, replaced by a scowl that’s as sharp as any blade.

“Well, look who’s awake,” Sylus hums, and you nearly collapse in relief, turning to rush to Rafayel’s side when something stops you halfway. 

Two simple threads of shadow chain you down, dragging you back to Sylus as the other binds your hands behind you, unaffected by your sudden thrashing. In faux comfort, Sylus curls an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace as the other rests against your ribs, drawing comforting circles against your tattered dress—the once pristine silk only just gifted to you destroyed with gashes and holes from the explosion and chaos that followed.

Rafayel’s lip curls, his voice a growl despite the rasp of exhaustion. “Should’ve known a snake would take a deal and twist it. This is your plan? This is what you call a friendly competition?” 

Sylus tilts his head, his smirk turning predatory. “Careful, puppy. You’ll get your turn, I never specified who went first.”

Silence. 

You feel like you’re playing catch-up, each word only adding to the confusion as the tension grows thick enough to choke on.

And then Rafayel laughs. His entire body shakes with it, head thrown back against the chair he’s still bound to, laughing and laughing until he’s all but spitting flames. They erupt from his palms, climbing down the marble floors, vibrant pinks and reds curling into empty air as shadows dance to put them out. 

Sylus doesn’t release you, though his fingers twitch against your ribs as the flames light up the room. His smirk falters just slightly, replaced by something harder to read—a flicker of recognition, perhaps, or respect.

Rafayel’s laughter fades, his head rolling forward again as if it took everything in him to laugh at all. When his eyes meet Sylus’s, they’re cold and dark, an abyss in the ocean.

“You really think this will win her back?” Rafayel spits, tremors of barely-contained fury ripping through him as he struggles against the tendrils that hold him. The shadows only tighten in response. His glare cuts to you, begging. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a liar, a snake. All those ugly cold-blooded beasts do is lie.”

Sylus snorts, hugging you closer as the low scoop back of your dress causes your skin to brush against his chest. “Lie? Are you always this dramatic?” He tilts his head, mocking. “Perhaps you should’ve asked about the rules before we began. Backing out already?”

Flames spark from Rafayel’s body again, this time uncontrolled, swirling in frantic spirals like an inferno around him. His body trembling against the leather. “Release me then! Let me go first, let me show you she doesn’t need you. She’ll remember me.”

“You’re awfully bold for someone tied to a chair.” 

Sylus leans down to graze your neck with his lips, tilting his head like he’s savoring the sight of Rafayel’s frustration as he whispers into your ear just loud enough for him to hear. “Your puppy never stops barking, does he.”

Rafayel takes the bait, fire searing through wood, flickering in and out. “She’s not yours to take,” he seethes, shadows and flames casting violent shadows across the room. “Not yours.”

This is beyond ridiculous. 

You try and jerk away from Sylus, forgetting about the shadowy tendrils also holding you in place. Instead, you settle for pushing Sylus back with your bound arms, glaring at the both of them bickering like feral cats once again. “Both of you, stop! Whatever grudge you have with each other, leave me out of it!”

Sylus chuckles, the sound low and unnerving. “Leave you out of it? Oh, kitten, you’ve always been at the very center. You just don't remember yet.” His hand slips from your ribs to lift your chin, tilting your face toward his as he gazes down at you with something almost… reverent. “But don’t worry, we’ll help you remember everything.”

His words send a pang through you, a strange and unbidden ache that threatens to consume you from the inside out. You’re left suspended between them, chest heaving, mind a whirlwind of confusion and doubt. And yet, somewhere deep inside, you can feel it—an echo of something ancient and unshakable, something you don’t understand. Something they both seem to know.

That alone seems to calm Rafayel, at least, for long enough that Sylus can bind his hands together, unable to conjure any more flames before gagging him with a veil of shadows too. Something that immediately sends the man into a frenzy as he curses and squirms against the restraints. 

“What are– Sylus, release him right now—”

“Relax.”

You’re also being hoisted higher up into the air, feet barely touching the floor as your arms strain above your head. “He’s simply upholding his part of the deal. Besides, he’s not the one who deserves to be punished tonight. That, sweetie, would be you.”

But before you can rebuke, a huff of hot breath caresses your neck, Sylus humming against your ear as you shiver involuntarily. “You can’t blame me. After all, you’re quite cruel to curse both of us and then go about forgetting entirely.” 

Sylus drags his hand down your ribs, thumb catching a rip in your dress as he tears it all the way down until his fingers reach the bare plush of your thigh. His grip tightens, and your sudden moan startles you nearly as much as it does the other two, shaking and needy at barely a touch, your body pulled upwards by Sylus’s shadows as you’re now balanced precariously between his hold and the brush of your toes against the floor. 

“Tell me, does it hurt? That part of you that used to belong to us?”

The sensation is so foreign, the warmth and gentleness of his touch such a contrast to the cruelty he's displayed, but your traitorous body welcomes the contrast, leaning into his palm. “What are you talking about?” Your voice is shaky, unconvincing even to yourself. “I don’t—”

“Oh, you don’t remember,” Sylus cuts in, mockery dripping from his words. “But your body does. That’s the funny thing about bonds, darling. They don’t care about your memories. They care about promises. The ones you made. The ones you broke.”

You can feel the heat of Rafayel's gaze on you, watching as Sylus slowly runs his hand up your leg, the heat of his touch deliciously contrasted by the cool iron of his rings, making you shudder as they circle the tender flesh of your inner thigh. You fall forward, pulling against the restraints, unable to resist the urge to push into his touch.

Behind you, Rafayel lets out a muffled roar, thrashing against his binds. His fury burns through the room, flames licking at the air around him, casting wild, flickering light that illuminates the shadows writhing against his skin. Even gagged, his expression a storm of conflict, boring into Sylus with a fire that refuses to be smothered.

“See how desperate he gets?” Sylus laughs, his breath hot against your ear. “Always so loud, so needy. So quick to burn himself, like that’ll make you notice him more.”

Rafayel’s muffled snarl grows louder, and the flames around him surge, threatening to overwhelm the shadows keeping him bound. He jerks forward, the chair groaning under his strength, his entire body trembling with the effort.

Sylus smirks, unbothered, even amused. “Careful, puppy. Else I might think you’re trying to cheat.”

You wrench yourself away from Sylus’s grip as much as the shadows will allow, suddenly aware of how exposed you are with your torn dress.

“Cheat at what?” Thrashing, you try to slip from the restraints, which only has Sylus’s Evol squeezing tighter, pulling your wrists from behind your back to up in the air.  “Let us go, now.”

“Feisty,” Sylus purrs, hand moving from your thigh to your jaw. Squeezing your cheeks between his forefinger and thumb, he wrenches your gaze off Rafayel, forcing your neck to crane up to look him in the eye as he presses up against your back.

“That’s always been your problem, hasn’t it? Always resisting, even when you don’t know why.” His lips quirk into a wicked smile. “In that case, say no.”

And then Sylus’s lips are on yours, warm and insistent.

Your eyes widen, a muffled sound of surprise rising in your throat as the warmth of his kiss spreads across your lips. It’s instinct, the way your body immediately leans into his embrace, desire and confusion tearing at your chest. 

The logical part of you wants to pull away, but oh, something deep inside you sings so sweetly at his touch, making your mind fuzzy and body hot as Sylus tilts your head to the side. The angle has your neck screaming in protest, trapped between Sylus’s possessive grip on your neck and his chest, yet you swear it’s the dichotomy between the pain of his grasp and the devotion of his lips that has you addicted.  

This close, his scent is entirely intoxicating, a heady mix of spices and smoke, breath hot against your mouth, his lips surprisingly soft, gentle against yours. He doesn’t rush, a low, contented noise humming in his chest as you deepen the kiss, already licking against his bottom lip as you crane your neck for more, grinding back against him as best you can with your arms now bound above you. 

You don’t even realize you’re doing it. 

The bond with Sylus purrs in realization, and he has to summon up every ounce of strength and control left to break away, groaning into your skin as his lips trailing along your jaw, down to your neck, teeth grazing every spot that makes you shiver, and yet refusing to sink in. Refusing to mark you as his own. Not yet. 

When Sylus finally pulls back, you're panting, flushed and breathless. An absolute mess. 

"You're fussy, kitten," he murmurs, panting, his large frame practically surrounding you, heaving as you stumble forward under the weight. "But if you want more, you need to answer me."

"I don’t understand.” You’re panting, and fuck, it’s hard to breathe. ”What does this have to do with…"

The hand not busy laying claim to your throat travels down to meet the rip in your dress, brushing across your bare ribs. You feel Sylus smile into the nape of your neck as you moan at the icy burn of his rings caressing the flushed skin of your chest, his hand large enough to cup the entirety of the poor, sensitive flesh. 

That is, until his touch retreats entirely, the searing heat of his presence replaced with an empty chill. 

“Yes or no?” Sylus’s voice is low, rough, and commanding, but there’s a crack in his tone that gives him away. “I need to hear it, kitten. I need to hear you say you want this.”

You groan, head lolling forward, feeling the last shreds of your resolve crumble. It’s almost too much to bear, shadows coiled around you like velvet chains, holding you upright even as your strength falters. 

Why were you even fighting in the first place? The thought slips from your grasp, fleeting as a wisp of smoke. You can barely recall why you’re mad at them, at Sylus, at Rafayel. The failed mission, the target slipping away…it all feels inconsequential now, eclipsed by the molten desire in your chest.

Did you not want them both? Did you not dream of this? Did you not die for this? 

The flicker of Sylus’s red eye pierces through the dark, pulling you out of your own thoughts and anchoring you back to this reality as you feel the rumble of his laugh vibrate through your chest even though he’s no longer touching you. You wish he were. 

“Then say it.” You hear him step closer, but still refusing to touch you. “Say you want this, or else it stops.”

And then it’s back.

A violent surge tears through your chest, flashes of color—of memories—fluttering by in a tempest, in an unintelligible inferno as the burning within your heart returns tenfold. Images flash too fast to comprehend, but the feelings linger: love so deep it swallowed you whole, betrayal like a knife twisting in your ribs, desire that turned your world to ash. 

They ripple through you, each thread of memory, each red string of fate tying itself tighter to your soul.

You’re gasping, trying to grip your chest as it feels like your heart is going to burst from your chest, desperate for relief. But Sylus’s Evol makes it impossible to move, snaking down your body instead as it anchors you against the pain attempting to seize your entire being. 

You want them. 

You need them. 

After all, they were always yours.

"Yes."

The word tumbles out, barely audible, a whispered confession that feels like release and surrender all at once.

Control returns to you in waves, your body trembling as if it’s been dragged from the brink of collapse. Your thighs quiver, and even the hold of Sylus’s Evol isn’t enough to stop the shuddering. Everything burns. Gods, everything burns. 

Behind you, Sylus makes a low sound that only makes the shaking worse. It’s raw, guttural—a noise you feel rather than hear. His control is unraveling, and for the first time, you realize he’s as close to breaking as you are.

He’s trembling.

Even with his iron control, even with his Evol wrapping around you like armor, he can’t stop the way his fingers hover just shy of your skin, tracing the curve of your neck, your spine, your waist, like he’s memorizing you. And he’s close—too close. 

His breath is hot against the nape of your neck, and you can feel the tension radiating from him, maintaining that invisible barrier as he replays your ‘yes’ in his mind again and again and again.

“What was that?” His voice is a rough whisper, but the challenge is clear. “I don’t think I heard you.”

“Yes!” You nearly yell it this time, humiliation burning across your cheeks, but it’s dwarfed by the heat of your desire. ”I said yes.”

Sylus lets out a broken sound, somewhere between a groan and a growl, and every reason he’s had to hold back shatters. His Evol ripples, shadows weaving around your body in a dark embrace. Hands fly to your hips, a palm squeezing your thigh as your left leg is lifted completely off the ground. 

Sylus inhales you in greedy mouthfuls, lips dancing down your neck, your shoulder blade, nipping into the skin, reverent and desperate in equal measure. This new position was beyond vulnerable, Sylus forcing your quivering thigh higher and higher until it presses into your chest, the crude slice in your dress providing absolutely no resistance or chance for modesty, allowing everything to be exposed to the chill of the office’s midnight air. 

And to the hungry gaze of the man seated before you. 

"So needy, kitten. Are you finally remembering?” Sylus coos against your ear, but his smirk is fixed on Rafayel, looking directly at him as his free hand trails down between the slits of fabric, toying with the lace band of your panties, long, rough fingers slipping under them in teasing circles. “Beg.”

“What?” You hate the way your voice quivers as Sylus teases your cunt through the thin, already-drenched fabric. “You’re out of your—ah, fucking—mind, Sylus.”

“Quite the opposite. After all, we have an audience to impress.” A sudden slap against your clothed pussy has you moaning, jolting against your restraints, futile, and yet the disturbance is just enough for the left strap of your dress to slip off your shoulder, exposing the swell of your breast just shy of the nipple that was no doubt already hard enough to peek through the sheer silk all on its own. 

“Go on, beg for me.”

You don’t even get a chance to argue, not when Sylus delivers another harsh slap on your clit, soothing it with a cruel swirl, just enough to have you chasing the friction, grinding down against his palm with a choked sob. His middle two fingers tease against your slit, teasing but never breaching as the soaked fabric is stretched around his digits. He’s breaking you, and it’s working. 

"...Please." It comes out in a whine, and you bury your face in his chest as you feel yourself burn in embarrassment. 

A hum and Sylus’s hand leaves your cunt, making you whine at the loss. That is, until it's replaced on your neck, pushing your head up. A squeeze. "I said beg."

The pressure of his hold and the sweet demand of his voice only makes you wetter despite yourself. "Please," you repeat, shaking, each breath cut off just slightly by his thumb. "Please, Sylus, need it."

At first you think the bastard is doing this for himself, but as soon as you finish gasping out the words, his hand moves from your neck to your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to look across the room. 

Forcing you to look right at Rafayel.

Still bound and gagged, desperate doesn’t begin to describe him. Straining against his bounds, Rafayel’s entire body is shaking, trembling from either need or fury, gripping the leather until his knuckles turn white. Sunset eyes are glassy, blown out with unshed tears as they struggle to focus on everywhere Sylus touches you, the bruises against your neck, the quiver in your leg, the slick dripping down your thighs up to your clothed cunt.

Fuck, he’s hard. Rafayel’s cock strains painfully against his pants, an obvious dark spot tented up against his trousers, rocking against empty air with a muffled sob.

He looks more wrecked than you, and he hasn’t even been touched yet.

And that realization does horrible, terrible things to you. 

“Please. Need you, need it s’bad it hurts. Wanna cum so, so badly, please,” you whine, deliberately sweet, locking eyes with Rafayel as you drag out your moan. “Sylus.”

There’s a click of a belt buckle and you’re being lifted up into the air. Sylus holds you up by the backs of your knees, completely at his mercy as your hands flail against the restraints pulled taut above your head. Your legs are spread wide, hugged tight to his chest as you feel his length, hot and desperate, pressing into your ass. 

"Hold her down."

The shadows pull taut, wrapping around your knees as they allow Sylus’s hands to wander elsewhere, suspending you against him. At the same time, his fingers are hooked against your panties, snapping them against your weeping cunt and giving Rafayel the perfect view as the two men lock eyes.

Rafayel’s reaction is almost immediate, falling forward in the chair, moans stifled against the shadows as he watches Sylus push your panties to the side and then, without warning, thrust two fingers in knuckle-deep. 

"You're so sensitive, aren't you, sweetie? Or is it because he’s watching?" As you cry the man simply drags you flush against his chest, forcing your legs higher as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. And looks Rafayel dead in the eyes. “She’s taking me so well, isn’t she?”

Sylus follows Rafayel’s gaze, unfocused and starving as he watches the two of you, more specifically, where your cunt greedily sucks up Sylus’s fingers, meeting every grind and curl of him deep inside you as you writhe against his chest. 

Rafayel hates it, he hates it, and he hates how turned on he is at the sight.

You’re so easy, walls clenching around his digits, obscene suck following each and every movement as clear evidence even as your words fail you. With another curl of his fingers, Sylus twists his wrist, admiring the glint of your slick dripping down his palm and forearm. So wet, even as he purposefully avoids giving you what you’re seeking, planning to drive you insane before fucking you in any way that matters.

A particularly deep thrust of Sylus’s fingers has him grazing that sweet spot, and your entire body convulses, your cries echoing across the empty room in time to the lewd, wet squelches of Sylus’s ministrations. You're sobbing, struggling to find respite from the sensations as your legs tremble and familiar heat coils in your core embarrassingly fast. 

"Ah, ah," Sylus chides, and his touch disappears, leaving you empty and unsatisfied as your head lolls back against his shoulder. It takes all of your willpower not to beg him to keep going, but the look on his face makes it clear you're not allowed.

"I need—”

"You need," his grip is firm, "To learn patience. Aren’t you forgetting something? If you cum so quickly, do you really think you’ll be able to handle the both of us?"

Sylus says that, and yet he’s not exactly helping. Finally giving attention to your clit, his pace is merciless, the slick sounds of your pussy sucking his fingers in making his cock twitch in his pants.

"Yes. Yes, Sylus, I want ah– wait," you gasp, unable to move, squirming in the air as you look directly at Rafayel, almost in a plea. But that only makes the poor man almost cum at the eye contact. His entire body flushes an erotic pink at the sight of you, pathetic whimpers and unintelligible praises muffled into the shadows.

Sylus smirks, feeling you clench around his fingers, and grinds forward, your protests dissolving into static as you feel his cock grind between your thighs. Fuck, you’re close.

But Sylus isn’t looking down at you, not anymore. He’s rather focused on the poor man looking nearly hypnotized at the show you’re so generously putting on. 

So why not take it further? Sylus directs his Evol down, ripping Rafayel’s shirt and squeezing his thighs as they tease and tighten against his trembling muscles, grinning at the man practically falling apart without so much as a touch. 

"You want a taste, puppy?” 

Sylus smirks, kissing down your neck, finally undoing his Evol gagging Rafayel’s mouth as a pathetic whine echoes across the room alongside every heaving breath. “Ask nicely, and maybe I'll let you. If she cums, she’s all yours."

Rafayel has never wanted to burn a building down so badly before. 

He's a god for fuck's sake—he, the bringer of tempests, the master of tidal waves, and the keeper of fire, unable to even fucking breathe at the sight of you. This is not desire; this is sacrilege. 

But then he hears it. His name. Shattered, trembling, falling from your lips like prayers ripped from a throat too broken to care—Rafayel, Rafayel, Rafayel—your thighs quivering in the air, your body offering to something you don’t fully understand, each syllable searing through him like molten iron, branding him, unmaking him.

Rafayel’s fingers twitch with the need to destroy—burn, drown, something. But when you scream his name once more, cumming around Sylus’s fingers, the god inside him shatters.

"Please," his throat is raw from cursing through the gag, each word tasting like ash and salt on his tongue. "Please, Sylus."

It’s not enough. Sylus tilts his head, amused. Rafayel sucks in a shuddering breath, nearly falling from the chair to his knees as the restraints loosen.

"You want a god to beg?" Rafayel laughs, fury crackling beneath his desperation. "I’ll beg. I’ll kneel. I’ll crawl to her. Please, just let me taste. Don’t make me wait anymore."

“Then crawl.”

You’re only just coming down from your orgasm, bits of Rafayel’s and Sylus’s nth argument flickering through your mind— before you’re suddenly gasping for breath. 

A silent scream rips from your mouth as the restraints above you flicker with every tremor that seizes your body, knees buckling as a searing sensation against your leg bites again.

You didn’t even see Rafayel get off the chair, let alone process when he got on his knees beneath you. 

“Rafayel!” Looking down through tear-lined lashes, you watch the man lick his lips, his only apology a wet, messy kiss to the violet bruise already blooming against your inner thigh. He’s whimpering apologies into your leg, tongue slipping out to meet your quivering skin, collecting your sweat and dripping slick, smearing it higher and higher along your inner thigh. You swear no human tongue is that long.

As if coordinated, the moment Sylus releases your leg from his hold, Rafayel drapes it over his shoulder, your body suspended between them. Your hands writhe helplessly above your head, desperate to lace themselves into the man's hair and pull— closer or further, you do not know. 

Rafayel’s yanking you forward, moaning into your cunt as his lips meet your own swollen ones—too hasty, too depraved to even think of pulling aside your sticky panties. He’s eating through the fabric like a man starved, teeth grazing your clit as his tongue slips under, burying himself between your folds, tongue fucking up into you as his moans and whines are muffled only by your own and the wet squelches of your cunt.

"I— R-Rafayel—Sylus!"

Your head rolls back, falling onto Sylus’s chest as you feel Rafayel moan, the vibrations sending a shockwave up your spine. Your cum is dripping down his chin and chest, and he’s lost in the heat and taste of you, head spinning as he makes out with your pussy, sucking the drenched fabric of your panties, his poor neglected cock straining against his pants, begging for attention. In truth, Rafayel doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life.

Rafayel presses closer, nose brushing against your clit in sync with the curling and twisting of his tongue as it reaches that spongy abused spot deep inside you, the hot friction enough to send your eyes rocking into the back of your skull. 

Now you’re certain, the way it writhes inside you is most definitely far from human. 

Sylus is more than content to just watch over your shoulder, transfixed. Watch as the god kneels beneath you, head moving in a frenzy, desperate for more, a slave to his own hunger. When you try to writhe away from Rafayel, overstimulated, Sylus merely wraps his burly forearms around your waist and neck to pin you in place, the squeeze of Sylus’s biceps and Rafayel’s kissing to your cunt making you gloriously light-headed. 

Sylus watches your muscles begin to tremor, thighs locking around Rafayel’s head, and he brings his palm down to curl his fingers up into you alongside Rafayel’s tongue. 

“My, just look at you.” Sylus chuckles against your forehead as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, stifling your moans as you bite—hard—down into his sweat-slicked skin. “So needy for the both of us. Do you remember now? Do you realize the only thing your body craves is us, that we will be the only ones ever able to satisfy you?”

"Sylus, oh god, please," you moan, already delirious as you beg. 

Rafayel's head snaps up, panting between your legs, your wetness shining on his chin. He glares at the man above him, his eyes alight before pressing a rough kiss to your clit. 

"I’m your god. Do not speak to him while I'm touching you.” Rafayel’s mouth is back on your cunt, sucking, biting, and he reaches a hand up to rip the remaining fabric of your dress, squeezing your breast. "You're mine, You’re mine too. You were mine first, don’t forget that again." 

Rafayel feels the way you tense around his tongue and Sylus’s fingers and frowns, sucking harder, faster. You are a symphony in their ears, a drug in their veins, and gods, Rafayel has never felt so high.

 "Say it. Say my name,” he whines, drooling against your folds, "you're mine. All mine."

You can barely breathe.

"Say it."

"Yours, Rafayel," you cry out, your entire body shaking, "I'm yours."

"Again," he’s pleading, a growl, and you can feel it inside you, the vibration and the desperation. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, the dizziness in his vision to kiss your clit—missing, placing wet, opened-mouth kisses against your thighs and cunt a few times instead.  "Say it again."

"Yours, always, always," you can feel the tears running down your cheeks, a sob wrenching from your throat as the pressure grows, "yours, Rafayel, I'm yours—"

You’re babbling, so, so fucked out you don’t even recognize the familiar letters Rafayel presses into your clit with every swirl of his tongue—R-A-F-A-Y-E-L-R-A-F-A-Y-E-L—spelling his name as if in reminder. In possession. In worship.

The two of you are practically overstimulating yourselves, and Sylus can see the moment your eyes roll back, your lips parting with a moan, and moves his fingers to curl against your g-spot at the same time Rafayel goes back to licking up into your cunt. The god growls at the interruption and nips Sylus’s fingers almost on instinct, causing Sylus to hiss as you jerk in his hold. 

Immediately, Sylus is reaching down, yanking on Rafayel’s hair, forcing his head out from beneath you. “Ah-ah, no biting.”

But, gods, does Rafayel fight it. Whining, Rafayel reluctantly slips his tongue out from your cunt, dazed and addicted, eyes half-lidded as he attempts to find his way back to you, finally forced back onto his heels. 

"The fuck do you think you're doing? Sylus, I swear to the seas I’ll set everything on fire and let it all burn," Rafayel snarls, his body shaking with desire.

Sylus laughs. "Is that how a good boy asks?"

Neither of you misses the full shiver that races down Rafayel’s spine at the pet name. Sylus forces Rafayel’s head to the side with his grip on his hair and the god snaps out of it, smiling with the promise of blood as your cum drips from his canines. 

"I have killed for less."

"I’ll make it worth the effort, puppy. I promise."

Sylus's eyes burn into him, a silent dare. A challenge. Rafayel's gaze shifts back and forth between Sylus and you, his teeth grinding together as his cock strains against his pants. There are only two choices left, and he knows it.

“Will both of you stop fighting and please—” you scream at their stupidity, “Please just fuck me!”

Their hands are on you in an instant.

Sylus drags Rafayel up by the hair, pushing the man back as he stumbles backward onto the couch, you falling on top of him as Sylus bends you over the leather arm. Immediately, you feel the hot press of Sylus against your ass, his body caging you between them as his arms rest on the back of the couch and right beside Rafayel’s head. 

“Make him come, and I’ll fuck you,” Sylus whispers into your ear, guiding your back into a deeper arch until your breasts graze the cold leather. 

He doesn’t even finish talking before you’re pawing at Rafayel’s pants. 

You don’t need the extra motivation, not really, not when you’re already salivating at the sight of Rafayel’s pretty length, heavy and leaking as it snaps up to his abdomen as soon as you shove down his boxers.

Overly eager, you thumb at his slit, collecting the copious amounts of sticky pre-cum dripping onto his stomach as you drag your hand up and down, watching anger fade from Rafayel’s expression entirely as he writhes against the couch. 

You’ve barely even touched him and he’s falling apart. The sheen of sweat makes his muscles stick to the leather as he bucks up into your touch, babbling pleas as he watches you lean down to kiss the tip. "Poor baby. You’re this hard from just watching?"

"Please," Rafayel begs, gasping as your hand squeezes against the base of his pretty cock. "Wanna fuck you. Wanna be inside you. Please."

You hesitate, almost looking over your shoulder at Sylus for permission when you’re lifted up into the air with a yelp. Sylus only needs one arm to hoist you over the arm of the couch, dropping you onto Rafayel’s lap as the both of you moan at the mere contact of skin on skin. 

It should be embarrassing, the fact that you’re so wet that at the first few attempts, Rafayel’s cock merely slides between your thighs, grinding into your clit before trying again, Sylus cooing sweet nothings to the both of you as he purposely slows you down.

One of his large hands begins grinding you onto Rafayel’s length, letting you take him inch by inch, the other moving to stop the man beneath you from squirming, pinning him down. 

"Mhm fuck, Raf, feels so good." Relishing the stretch you finally, finally, get. Greedily sinking faster as you chase the addictive feeling, down until your ass hits his pelvis with a lewd squelch.

"Ah," Rafayel tries to meet you halfway, tries to thrust up into you but can’t so much as move with Sylus’s hand and Evol holding him down yet again. “Sylus, please, let me. Need it, need it so bad.”

The sound of Rafayel moaning Sylus’s name really shouldn’t be that hot, and yet you feel your pussy flutter, Rafayel’s cock twitching violently in you as he groans from the sudden pressure, throbbing in time to your heartbeat. Rolling your hips, you chase the friction of his pelvis against your clit, grinding back and forth as your breathing reduces to small cries of their names. 

"You can do better than that," Sylus scoffs, hand squeezing your hip, pressing down onto your lower abdomen before dragging you all the way off Rafayel’s length and slamming you back down. Again. And again.

Both of you lose your minds a little at that. Your moan is muffled as you collapse down onto Rafayel’s chest, panting, drooling at the pace Sylus is setting for you, still moving your hips as you try to distract yourself by placing messy, opened-mouth kisses up Rafayel’s heaving chest. Biting his nipple just to watch him arch into your mouth with a sob. Wanting, needing more. 

Sylus rocks you forward just a bit more and you scream, the fat head of Rafayel’s cock now ramming into your g-spot, raw and sensitive.

"Please, fuck," Rafayel gasps out, shaking at the change in angle. His jaw hangs deliriously open as he looks down, greedy eyes locked on the way your cunt was swallowing him whole. “Don’t stop, m’close. Please, ah—shit, don’t squeeze me like that— don’t stop.”

Sylus’s low laugh makes your cunt throb, gushing around Rafayel’s cock as the sticky, creamy strands begin to pool where your thighs meet. Still guiding you up and down, Sylus moves to finger at your clit, smiling as the both of you tense up immediately, smacking up once, twice, onto your oversensitive nub. 

“Very well then, make him cum. Poor thing deserves it, right?” Sylus whispers into your ear, spreading two fingers across the glossy mess between your bodies, watching your combined slick drip down his wrist. You watch him withdraw his glistening fingers with a smug, feral grin, immediately leaning down to press the digits into Rafayel’s open mouth. 

Every sound is unrestrained now, Rafayel’s eyes rolling back at the taste of you coating Sylus’s fingers, sucking diligently as his pace speeds up into brutal, frantic thrusts. Rafayel’s hips freely jerk up as he plants his feet into the couch, new leverage letting him ram himself deeper, barely pulling out before rolling his hips back into yours. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, fuuuck."

"Cum, puppy, I know you're close."

You swallow your cries just long enough to lick across Rafayel’s blushing red ear and whisper, "Be a good boy and cum for us, Raf. Come inside me, please?”

It hits him so hard it hurts.

Rafayel cries as he cums, loud, sweet moans garbled against Sylus’s fingers, drooling around him nearly as much as his cock is drooling in you, the sheer heat of his release filling you to the brim as it squirts down your thighs and up his abs in thick rivulets. But he’s still grinding up into you as he cums, fucking his release deeper, arching his muscled back into a gorgeous curve on the soaked leather, and you feel your own orgasm quickly approaching.

"Rafayel, Sylus, wait please, too much, I’m gonna—"

"You can take it, kitten.” Sylus cuts you off, retracting his fingers from Rafayel’s mouth before tapping them against his cheek, smearing the wetness of his digits down his jaw.

Rafayel gets the message, still thrusting, hands squeezing your breasts, waist, down to your ass, spreading your thighs until they shake, all as Sylus keeps moving your hips. The two of them working together as your body shudders, orgasm hitting you without any other warning. 

Sylus hums sweet praises as your head floats in and out of reality, still deliciously stretched around Rafayel’s still-hard cock. The couch dips as Sylus settles in behind you, the heat of his bare skin caressing your back as his hands massage comforting little circles into yours and Rafayel’s hips. 

“Good job, baby.”

Both of you shudder at the praise. 

Sylus’s voice acts as little more than an aphrodisiac, all low and rough with a teasing chuckle, and the way you feel Rafayel twitch inside you makes you think he feels similarly. 

“Hey,” Rafayel’s already embarrassingly close to coming again, your every movement tightening and rocking against his length. He pushes himself up onto his elbows with a whine, nuzzling into your touch with each slow, deep thrust. “You’re taking too long. Hurry up, a deal is a deal, so hurry up already and fuck her.”  

You can’t see it, but the sight of you and Rafayel still subtly grinding against each other, panting and breathless, makes a dark flush spread across Sylus’s cheeks, his own body betraying him as he smiles. One thick arm anchors you to his chest as the other pulls Rafayel up. “So needy, aren’t you?”

You don’t know who he’s talking to— you don’t particularly care. 

Not so long as both of them were inside you within the next five seconds. 

“Shh,” Sylus kisses you quiet, silencing the whines you didn’t even realize you were letting out, "Don't worry, kitten. We're gonna take real good care of you, aren't we, Rafayel?"

Rafayel only nods, eyes half-lidded and teary as he looks down to where you and him are joined. He's still buried to the hilt, throbbing against your walls, and you both moan at the overstimulation from every movement, hissing at the cool air as Sylus slides his hands down to pull you apart, fingers pressing against his cock inside you.

"Just relax, alright? Deep breaths. This'll feel really good soon."

Slow. Torturously slow. Sylus retreats his fingers and replaces them with his weeping tip. And then he’s pushing in alongside Rafayel’s cock— careful, deep grinds of his hips that have you and Rafayel moaning, every heartbeat pulsing against your walls in violent thumps. 

"Relax."

"I am relaxed."

"Breathe, Raf."

"I'll burn you alive."

Sylus laughs at Rafayel's pained whine, and he takes that moment to tighten his arm around your waist, forcing you steady before thrusting in one brutal push. The sheer size of them, the combined pressure, and the very fact that you can feel them both rocking and throbbing against each other is enough to have you losing your mind. 

Dropping his head to kiss your shoulders, Sylus almost looks apologetic as he turns your head to the side, messily licking into your lips as he says, “M’sorry, just a bit more. Just a bit- hah fuck- a bit deeper—” 

Oh fuck, he’s not even in all the way yet.

Rafayel is moaning nonstop now, his hands finding yours and squeezing, the two of you trembling. You're a drooling, overstimulated mess between them, but all you can do is nod, a garbled, “S’okay, keep- keep going.”

That's the last warning you get before Sylus pushes deeper, until you can feel him in your throat, pound after heavy pound that shakes the entire damn couch. Holy fuck, it might break. 

They’re caging you in on either side, rhythmless, bouncing you like little more than a toy, pressing closer as the pressure grows against your walls and around your hips, reminding you of just how small you are to them in every conceivable way and how far they’re willing to go for you. How willing of worship they are. How desperate they are to prove it. 

You can feel everything, so full you can barely breathe, can barely think. Shaky fingers claw down anything you can find, digging into hard planes of muscle, and Rafayel makes a sound against your mouth like it hurts. But he isn't holding back either, the grip on your thighs bruising as he fucks into you, every thrust a sharp shock of pleasure as he and Sylus rock against one another.

The room is filled with the lewd squelch of their cocks fucking into your wet cunt, taking turns in deep, uneven tempos, and the heavy, ragged sounds of your breathing.

Sylus suddenly moans, loud and unrestrained against your shoulder, and you look back to see Rafayel’s hand squeezing the pale column of his neck, the slow lick of flames leaving bright red marks against his skin in the shape of Rafayel’s palm.

But the pain only seems to set Sylus off further, a harsh thrust into your ass forcing you forward and deeper onto Rafayel as well, nearly delirious as you’re stuck between their silent competition yet again.

Rafayel’s mouth gasps open in a feverish puff of your name over and over when you already begin clenching, practically milking them back in, pace stuttering as his swollen tip takes turns colliding with Sylus’s own and your cervix. Half-delirious, his palm comes up, pressing right where he could feel both of their cocks making a mess of you inside. 

“Ah! W-what-”

“Mhm, you deserve a reward don’t you cutie?” He’s panting against your mouth while Sylus bites the filthiest of words into the crook of your neck. The lovebites they’ve swathed across your skin will take days, if not weeks to disappear, but you’re far too gone to pay them any mind. “Take it, take our cum then. Right here.”

Rafayel’s palm digs into your lower stomach, hard.

His thrusts are short and frantic now, his face pressed into the crook of your neck as you tighten impossibly around him. The pressure builds until you can't breathe, your body shaking and toes curling as you scream out little ah’s of their names.

"Wanna-" Rafayel can barely finish his sentence, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock knocking against your cervix. "Wanna fill you up, make sure you never forget. Never forget us again.”

Sylus on the other hand almost looks pained at the idea, and the sudden rush of possessiveness makes his thrusts harsher, rougher, and the sound of his hips colliding with yours fills the room.

“Yes yes yes- hah- want you to cum inside.” Arching between them, grappling pathetically for more. More. “Both of you inside, want it.”

"Careful." Sylus growls, forcing himself to breathe. To think. 

Rafayel only grins, a wicked edge to his fucked-out smile. “It’d be our mark. All ours. Our love, all full of us, our cum. You'd look so good like that, our sweet darling.”

You cry, burying your face in Rafayel's neck, his hair, the smell of him, of Sylus. "Wanna- want—ahh—want it, Sylus, please- want to feel it, want to be both of yours.”

“Don’t.” Sylus can't help but hiss, his cock swell violently inside of you, the telltale heat pooling in his stomach of a dragon marking his territory. He’s so close it’s embarrassing. 

Instead, his mouth finds your throat, sucking more bruises into the side Rafayel hasn’t completely marred. "Do you really want this? Think about it, kitten."

Rafayel laughs, squeezing your face in his hand as a low trill sounds from the back of his throat. “You believe—mhm, fuck—she can think right now?”

Sylus chooses to ignore him. Gently taking your face from Rafayel, he covers your eyes, whispering into your ear, "One more time. Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

There's no response, but the sudden, painful press of Sylus's bite makes you gasp, the sharp sting a pleasant contrast to the sweet ache spreading throughout your body. A hand pulls against your waist, another flicking cruelly across your nipple, pain and pleasure bleeding into one as you nearly collapse, two sets of hands immediately steading you instead. Rafayel moves to the unoccupied side of your neck, matching Sylus’s marks, the vulgar sounds of their tongues and sucking of teeth between moans fills your ears, just above the slap of their rough thrusts. 

Twin marks, the jaws of a Lemurian and the canines of a dragon, glowing a dull blue and red, claiming your body and soul in a way that their bonds sing. 

Sylus immediately retracts, kissing away the few escaped droplets of blood in apology while Rafayel lets them run, licking up your collarbone as the blood smears across your heartbeat, frantic under his tongue. 

Rafayel's tongue soothes the pain as he kisses the mark, sighing a soft, “ours,” into your neck.

The possessive edge in his voice sends a shockwave through your body, and you can't help but shudder, walls spasming around them as the pleasure nearly blinds you, every sense heightened by Sylus’s palm still covering your eyes. 

Without sight, every touch, every shift of their bodies against yours, in yours, is overwhelming. And you’re crying out into the darkness as they tease and drag you up, forcing you closer and closer— 

Fuck, you’re squirting everywhere. Each thrust now punctuated by wet slaps as your hands claw and slip against the drenched muscles of Rafayel’s abs and Sylus’s chest, unable to anchor yourself as you continue to cum. Shaking with it. 

They barely notice, the sudden vice of your cunt sucking them inside as they fuck into you in shallow, desperate little grinds. Anything to get deeper and deeper still, one kissing you as you feel their tongue lick up into you and the other playing with your clit, all three of you quickly losing your minds.

It’s impossibly messy, desperate. Neither of them has any control left, both cumming inside you as you continue to convulse around them, Sylus's hips stuttering as you feel the full, hot press of his release. Rafayel isn't far behind, whining and twitching, filling you up as their combined release gushes around your thighs, staining the leather couch below with dripping pools of it.

The feeling of being so full is enough to prolong your orgasm to the point of pain, and you scream their names as best you can when you can’t feel your tongue anymore, body convulsing.

You're still dizzy when Rafayel finally pulls away, a soft whimper escaping his lips at the feeling.

“So good, so pretty for us cutie, our sweet darling, you did so well." Rafayel’s babbling to himself with a lopsided smile, guiding Sylus’s hand to your navel. "Look, look. She's so full."

Sylus pulls back, heaving, his eyes immediately falling to where Rafayel's hand rests. He can feel it, can feel both of their releases seeping out, but Rafayel is right, your lower stomach is swollen. Not quite enough to show, but definitely enough to make them both moan, and the sound draws your attention back down to earth.

“Again.”

It's the first demand you’ve given in a while, and it’s not what Sylus expected, not with the way you barely seem lucid, but there's a bright flush to your cheeks and an excited glint in your eyes, and it's so fucking hot he can barely breathe. 

What Sylus also didn’t expect was for you to immediately lift yourself off his dick, busy watching your combined spend trickle down your thighs before both you and Rafayel knock Sylus onto his back, looking equal parts feral and furious as the two of you work together to pin him down. 

“You really didn’t think I’d let you get away with everything you pulled in the beginning, did you?” 

You nod, biting into Sylus’s neck as you whisper in faux anger. “This is entirely your fault.”

Sylus could barely manage to hide his smile. 

Who knows if any of you will make it out of this alive. The only lasting truth you know now is that they’ve irreversibly claimed you. That you’ve claimed them. 

Your dragon and your god.