Sylusfruitss

 ⠀⠀ Valko cuts himself off with another whine as your hips begin to pick up movement again, the heat between your legs grinding deliberately against his hardening cock. His aborted thrusts try to meet you, instinctive and increasingly desperate as he tries to chase the friction. It's enough to make you grin.

 ⠀⠀ "Just let go, baby. " Your lips meet his in a kiss. He deepens it in an instant, tongue licking your lips as he whines into your mouth. The sound grows as you grind him with more force, gasping into the kiss yourself.

 ⠀⠀ Big, warm hands find your hips— neither guiding nor pulling, but holding on. His trembling grip only makes you more eager to please.

 ⠀⠀ It's not long before you bring your attention back to Valko's neck, planting a myriad of kisses and dark marks there. The kisses are stark against his skin, darkening into marks that you know will climb above the collar of his tailored suit tomorrow. The thought of it— this tall, imposing man walking into the building of his company sporting your marks and your scent makes heat pool in your belly.

 ⠀⠀ Is this what goes through his head when he scents you? Maybe he’s rubbed off on you more than you thought.

 ⠀⠀ "You're so cute." it just slips out of you— a murmur dripping with adoration.

 ⠀⠀ Valko whines even louder when a hand goes to the crown of his head, scratching at the base of those soft fluffy wolf ears. The wag of his tail grows strong enough that it's practically whipping up a storm. His hips are grinding right back against you, the stain of his precum growing on the front of his sweat— his cock is achingly hard under the fabric, twitching each time you rub yourself against him.

 ⠀⠀ He's so damn warm underneath you, desperate and whining as he chases the pleasure of the friction, driven by his baser instincts. But he's being so good too— his hands hadn't once tugged or pulled you, letting you set the pace as you'd like.

 ⠀⠀ What a good puppy.

 ⠀⠀ The poor wolf's eyes are practically molten gold when you meet his gaze— swimming with desire and drunk on the pleasure of your scent, the pleasure of your body pressed up against his.

 ⠀⠀ "What a good boy," you coo, delighting in the way he gasps your name. "D'you wanna cum, baby?"

 ⠀⠀ "Please," he whines, and you can feel his cock twitch even through the ruined fabric. It must be so hard now— blushing red at the head, thick and heavy, practically dripping with precum. Pert of you wishes you could see it, could taste it. He's always tasted so good.

 ⠀⠀ "Go on then, puppy," you purr. “You can cum.”

 ⠀⠀ With the hand still in his hair, you guide Valko's face to bury in your neck— he needs little encouragement, all but shoving his nose against your pulse in a hearbeat, drinking in your scent like a man starved. Immediately, the pace of his thrusts pick up and his hands tighten on you as his restraint finally begins to crack in the face of his looming orgasm. The sound of fabric brushing against fabric is loud— but still drowned out by his breathless pants.

 ⠀⠀ You can't fight back the grin as he laps at your neck, sweet even as he coaxes your scent forward. Cute, cute, cute.

 ⠀⠀ Emboldened, he begins to guide your hips with his hands, using his strength to pull you back into each desperate grind of his hips. Each movement makes him whine into your neck, makes him twitch underneath you, his fingers tightening and then loosening.

 ⠀⠀ It doesn't take long before he's tensing beneath you, teeth finding the curve of your shoulder on instinct as a low, rough groan leaves him, his hips giving small jerks as he rides out his high. Valko's tail tenses for a moment before going right back to wagging— a bit slower now, tired, but delighted nonetheless.

 ⠀⠀ He's whining a little into your skin, licking where he had bitten as if in apology. Valko's grip keeps you seated on his lap and the wetness of his cum staining his sweats— unapologetic and warm.

 ⠀⠀ Even after all that, you can feel that his cock is still half-hard, still eager for anything else you wanted to give him. Still twitching with each deep breath he takes of your scent.

 ⠀⠀ "Good boy, Valko," you murmur into his soft hair, and the sound that escapes him just makes you want to ruin him again.

Valko was already slightly worried about you by the time he reached your apartment building. 

He’d text you a few times in the last half an hour to say that he was finishing work early, that he was coming to see you and that he could pick up your favourite meal on his way to come and see you, but all of his messages were left unanswered.

So he tried calling. 

Only for his calls to go straight to voicemail. 

He tried not to panic; trying to believe that there was a logical explanation for your silence.

Something as simple as you’d fallen asleep, or that you had your phone on silent, or both together. 

At least that’s what he kept telling himself as he made his way up to your apartment. 

But all of those attempts at logical reasoning fell apart the very moment he stepped out of the elevator onto the floor that your apartment was on, because he could smell blood. 

Your blood. 

He practically ran down the hallway to your apartment, the metallic tang of your blood only getting stronger. 

It scared him. 

And Valko didn’t get scared. 

He hated it.

Hated how loud his own heartbeat sounded, drowning out everything else.

Hated how his hands were shaking as he took the key you’d given him from his pocket. 

Hated how he nearly broke the door of your apartment from its hinges as he shoved it open.

“Little moon!” he called out, as he entered your apartment the panic in his tone unmistakable. 

“I’m in the kitchen!” You replied back almost immediately, the sound of your voice nearly making Valkos knees give out as relief washed over him. 

He wasted no time in heading directly to the kitchen; seeing you standing there with a smile on your face and wooden spoon in your hand.

You’d been cooking dinner, completely unaware of the panic Valko had just been experiencing.

“You’re home early-” you started, your words to trailing off and smile faltering as you noticed a look you’d never seen in his eyes before.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, quickly placing the wooden spoon on the kitchen counter, before making your way over to him. 

“I should be asking you that, little moon,” he said simply, his voice low and his eyes narrowed, scanning every inch of exposed skin for the source of the blood. 

“Valko-”

“You’re hurt,” he stated, knowing that it was true even if he couldn’t see the wound. 

‘How did he know?’ You thought to yourself, the confusion on your face evident…until realisation kicked in.

He could smell it. 

Of course he could. 

He’s a werewolf… 

You felt stupid for not thinking about that fact sooner. 

“Valko-” you began again, taking another small step closer towards him, lightly reaching out to touch his arm gently,  “I’m okay,”

Your words seemed to do little to reassure the man standing in front of you. 

“How?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Misjudged a dodge against a wanderer,” you sighed with a small shrug, trying to brush the incident off, feeling annoyed and ashamed by your own stupid error.

“Where?” he asked quietly, one of his arm slipping behind your knees while the other wrapped securely around your back, lifting you off of the floor slightly, gently sitting you on top of the countertop, patiently waiting for you to answer.

You knew he wanted to see it, knew he needed to see it to know that you were truly okay. 

With a soft sigh, you lifted the hem of your shirt just enough to reveal the bandage wrapped around your ribs, a bandage that had a faint stain of dried blood on it.

Valko’s jaw clenched at the sight, his fingertips hovering over the bandage, careful not to touch it. 

“I thought…” his words trailed off as he shook his head, unable to finish the sentence, unable to vocalise his worst fear. 

But you knew what he was going to say and it made your heart sink knowing that you’d worried him so much.

“Why didn't you call me?”

You opened your mouth and quickly closed it again before answering,“I didn’t want you to leave work,”

“You think I would’ve stayed there?”

No. 

You knew he wouldn’t. 

Knew he would’ve dropped everything to be with you. 

Which is exactly why you didn’t call him. 

“I would have left,” he continued. “I would’ve come home to be with you,”

“I know,” you answered honestly, biting on the inside of your cheek as you looked down at the floor, “but it was such a stupid accident, it seemed silly to call you away from work because of it,”

The sound of low growl of slip past his lips in disagreement, as he hooked his  index finger under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his once again. 

“You being hurt isn’t just some ‘stupid accident’,” his golden eyes burning into yours, “okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled softly, squeezing his arm, hating how much fear and worry you could still see in his golden eyes.

“Good,” he breathed, searching your face for a long moment, as though you could disappear right in front of him if he so much as blinked.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised after a brief silence, squeezing his arm again before raising your other hand to face, caressing his cheek softly. 

He leaned into your touch immediately, placing a kiss on your palm briefly before placing your hand back onto his cheek. 

“Please, just tell me next time your hurt,” he pleaded, resting his head against yours, “if your hurt I want to know, I don’t care how stupid you think it is, or how little, I want to know,”

“I’ll call you,” you promised with a small smile on your lips. 

“Good,” he mumbled, burying his face against your shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist, careful of your injury, but unwilling to let you go.

After everything he’d imagined in those terrifying minutes outside your apartment, simply holding you felt like a dream.

The dinner you’d been making was forgotten as the timer on the oven began to beep insistently from across the kitchen.

Reluctantly, Valko pulled away from you, heading over to the stove.

He’d barely made it two steps before you started to slide off the countertop.

“Absolutely not,” he stated, glancing over his shoulder at you, “You are not getting down.”

“Dinners going to burn,” you attempted to argue but he simply shook his head.

“I’ll finish dinner,” he replied, “you can supervise,”

You opened your mouth to argue, only for him to point the earlier discarded wooden spoon at you with a look that somehow managed to be a mixture of both stern and gentle.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that fell from your lips as he turned his focus to the pan, awaiting your instructions. 

For the first time since stepping out off the elevator, the knot around his heart finally began to unravel, as he settled into his role as chef, obediently listening to your instructions and following them with ease. 

This is what he wanted, more than anything else, more than money or power; he simply wanted a life with you, where you were safe.

And as long as he could help it, he’d do everything in his power to keep it that way.

Tagging:

Since his death (five days ago), you’ve been distraught. No food, condolences or cemetery strolls have been able to console you. Everywhere you look, there he is. His very essence lives on in the paintings filling your modest cottage, as it does in the crockery he formed with his own hands for you to eat and drink from. Your very sustenance is tied to your dead husband.

While dying your clothes black, your tears had mixed with the water. Mourning gowns imbued with sorrow, that’s how it should be, no?

Every night, his ocean eyes haunt you not only in your dreams, but in your hallucinations, too. When you wake up, frightened to death witnessing his again and again, those eyes peer at you in the darkness. They burn as bright as the blaze that ripped him away from you. This visceral pain, everlasting. It snuffs out the light residing within you.

All that remains is a hollow shell, like a crab that’s moved on. Discarded, that’s what you are. Some used calcification unfit for future provision.

Hot tears trickle down your sandpaper cheeks, a consequence of your routine nose-blowing. There he lies, beneath the stone lid, forever at peace. What a cruel joke.

The love you cultivated with Rafayel was like the sea. Passionate and grand; a stormy wave roaring and crashing in the distance. Quiet and consuming, like a riptide pulling you under. And a million emotions more lost in the depths.

The man who gave you headaches with his fickle ways, and sang you sweet lullabies while rubbing your temples to soothe every single one. Who set the rhythm of your heart, beating unnaturally fast for his teasing. The root cause of all of your problems; your best friend, your lover, your mentor.

Rafayel doesn’t deserve to rest in peace. He deserves an eternity of rotting in a dungeon filled with cats for how he has abandoned you!

“Y-you lying bastard. Said you loved me, guppy. Said you’d-you’d always b-be here f’me,” you choke out before wiping your freshly running nose on the sleeve of your dress.

If you could just—No. But—You mustn’t…

Just one last time. You would give everything to gaze upon your husband one more time, even though he’s ascended to a higher plane.

You know you must let go of him, but that sweet temptation. It swirls with fear. Like Orpheus gazing upon Eurydice one final time, will you find the face of your lover? Or will you find the feast of maggots? Either way, death cannot be defied. It is the one constant in a world riddled with disease and new developments daily.

You reason that you should leave his memory be, should you jeopardise it with your curiosity. But there’s an itch in your fingers. They twitch by your sides, an unseen strength swelling in your palms.

“Like I can move it,” you mutter to yourself while bracing your hands on the sides of the lid. Your fingers curl around the cold edge, silky smooth. With a huff, you lift the lid and push it. Well, you try to, but your shove doesn’t get you too far.

Gritting your teeth, you repeat the motion once more. And then once more. And again until the lid clanks against the stone floor. You scrunch your eyes shut and breathe in deeply to steady yourself. But when the stench of death doesn’t reach your nose, you crack one eye open and peer down.

Incredulous. Not only was your husband an artist, but it appears he was a magician, too. His tomb is empty. You palm either side of the stone coffin and bend down, inching closer to the shadows where he should lie.

With a quickening heart, you reach one hand into the depths. What do you find? Icy marble; the bottom of the coffin.

His tomb is empty.

You stare at your hand, swallowed by the darkness, fingertips pressing against stone. You drag them down and back up like your six-foot husband shrank. But that’s simply not possible. But neither is the reality that he’s not here. Did the embalmers forget the essential component of a burial?

That, you cannot fathom. But if he’s not here? Tis not like he could get up and walk away, he’s dead! He is dead, right? Of course he is!

Your Lemurian lover hadn’t moved a muscle during his funeral. His heart rested heavy in his chest, unmoving like coal. The soot had been scrubbed from his angelic features, soft yet dull. When you leaned down to kiss his plump lips one last time, he didn’t respond; the absolute confirmation of his death.

So where is he now?

This was a mistake. You shouldn’t have opened his blasted tomb! But if you hadn’t, then you wouldn’t have realised that you weren’t getting your money’s worth. What if his body has been stolen for dissection? Or worse, to be made a mockery of by those envious aristocrats who dare to put themselves in the same category as your very dead husband?

You sniffle real good, getting all of that snot back up in your nose as you push yourself upright. There’s no point in fixing the tomb when you’re going to be having a very serious confrontation with those responsible for such a mistake. You turn on your heel, ready to storm off and chatter to yourself the entire walk home like the madwoman you’ve become.

But there, a figure illuminated by the moon stands at the mausoleum’s entrance. Weight balancing on one long leg and shoulders squared off by a blazer. Pale light dances off their tousled locks, and they’ve got on hand on their hip.

Could it be?—

“What’s wrong, cutie? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Rafayel. No, it can’t— He steps forward and his ethereal features are bathed in celestial light. Your heart stammers, and your feet move on their own accord.

Mushy flowers lie scattered on the ground as you run toward him, his name spilling from your lips in earnest prayer. You crash into him.

“Whoa, steady now. I’m right here,” he says lightly, those agile fingers threading through your loose hair and brushing it.

You sigh into his solid chest, “Raf…” You squeeze him tight, your tears resurfacing at this sudden reunion. A figment of your imagination, surely. But if this were merely another hallucination, then why does he feel so cold and hard?

It’s like your lover has been carved from stone. You can feel every ripple and contour of his body beneath the suit you chose for his burial. And his chest remains still, his heart frozen in time like he really did get up from his coffin and take a stroll.

In your dreams, your Rafayel is warm and firm but squishy. He touches you so tenderly and holds you close to his beating heart. That thumping, forever aligned with your own, like biology predestined your unity.

This Rafayel holds you just as tenderly, but a desperation lingers in his grasp. The added tightness is exactly what you need after accidentally discovering the disappearance of his remains.

“Oh, Raf,” you wail; a fresh onslaught of sobs tears from your throat.

He pats your head, just like your husband always does when you cry and murmurs, “Why’re you crying, my love? I’m right here.” You nuzzle his chest with your nose and press your body harder against his. But it’s so damn cold! If not for your sobbing, you’d be shivering from how his freezing temperature seeps through his clothes. It’s as if you’re hugging his tomb.

Ohhhhhh. That’s what must be happening right now. And when you open your eyes, you’ll find that you never even opened his coffin. Instead, you fell asleep on top of it due to your recent insomnia.

You cry into your husband’s button-up, “I-I wish this-this was real.” His hold on you stiffens.

“What did you say, princess? Do you think this is all a fantasy?” He asks, annoyance creeping into his tone.

You laugh sorrowfully, “What else could this be if not my imagination?” Your hands sneak up his back, beneath the boundary of his tailcoat, to feel the smooth fabric covering his toned body. Over his back muscles, your fingertips trace each curve like they used to whenever you needed to feel grounded. You sigh, your heartbeat slowing as you feel every familiar dip.

His purple locks tickle your hairline as he leans down and whispers, “This is not your imagination, cutie. I’m here. Your husband is right here, and he’s never going to leave your side again.” You shake your head, giggles tinged by sadness spewing forth from your lips.

“My imagination is excessively cruel today,” you mumble. Rafayel’s hands come to your shoulders and push you back slightly. Your head tips back, and your cloudy gaze meets his. His thumbs trace your waterline, catching your stray tears. Your vision clears up. As he’s about to pull away, your fingers wrap around his wrist, and you bring his stone-cold palm to your hand. Upon it, you bestow a longing kiss, words left unsaid laid to rest on his skin.

Those eyes, like cerulean and bright mulberry, dripping like hot honey. Those eyes burn into your soul; another hallucination.

You release his hand, your own falling to his lapels as you stare at one another.

He says in a low voice, “If you believe this is a dream, then allow me to prove to you just how real I am.” Your breath hitches as the tip of his nose brushes yours. Fluttering your eyes shut, you stand on your tiptoes to close the insufferable distance between you.

His body might feel like marble, but his lips are as biteable as you remember. You both sigh, relief washing over the two of you from such a simple gesture. It feels like eons since you last kissed Rafayel, given how he used to butter you up in his affection whenever he had the chance. Slow mornings, soft afternoons and dreamy dinners. A pang in your chest. If you could just rewind the clock, return to a week ago from now. If only you knew then how your future would unfold.

You cup his sharp jaw, a quiet moan falling from your lips as he pulls you flush against him. But it’s not enough. These clothes, you can’t bear them. And it seems neither can he. Those veiny hands bunch your skirt to feel an inkling of your hips. His mouth moves with a ferocity against yours, perhaps the aftereffects of death by fire. Wild and hungry, he devours your lips like it’s his last meal.

“Raf,” you mewl, his fangs catching on your lower lip.

His what now?

You shift back, your eyes shot wide open and searching for the source of such bittersweet pleasure pain. There, glimmering in the midnight glow, pearly fangs piercing into his pink lips. Naturally, your first instinct is to pinch yourself. And your second instinct is to pinch yourself even harder when the first seems to fail. But alas, this is no dream you can wake from, nor a dizzy spell you can sleep off.

A chill drags up your spine and crawls into the most intimate recesses of your being. Your breathing shallows. An outlandish idea dawns upon you.

With raised brows and big eyes, you sputter, “Raf… I—What’s going on? Are you… ill?”

“Ill?” He chuckles, the sound harsh and melodic, granite dipped in velvet.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m feeling better than I ever did when I was alive,” he grins. Your brow creases.

“Pardon?” His complexion is unnaturally pale. Milky fingers caress your cheekbone down to the edge of your jaw, their pressure light. Your husband tilts your chin up, sealing your parted lips. His other hand drifts up to your face, his thumb soothing the furrow in your brow. You grasp his clothed forearms, uncertainty and fear spreading through your veins as his snowy fangs gleam.

Rafayel tilts his head slightly as he informs you, “You see, cutie, I had to change to be able to see you again.” You shake your head, the knot in your brow returning.

“Change? Raf, you have fangs,” you mutter. Gazing down might be the greatest mistake of your lifetime as you notice a few crimson droplets on his crisp white shirt. Gulping, your eyes flicker up to his. They’re trained on you, watching the minute twitch in your features when you glance back at the red dots. You’re equally perplexed as to what that stain is from and how you didn’t notice it earlier.

Meeting his gaze, you ask, confused, “Is that… blood?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I got a bit hungry while you kept me waiting,” he shrugs, like it’s a normal occurrence to have blood marring one’s funeral shirt after satiating their hunger. Again, you shake your head while trying to gain a shred of clarity around the matter at hand. But your husband doesn’t give you the chance as he tugs you back into his firm body. You gasp, your hands splaying on his chest while you stare up at him wide-eyed.

“Raf,” you squeak. Bending down, his lips brush the shell of your ear. A feather-light kiss, reverent.

He murmurs deeply, “And you know how impatient I am.” You press your lips together to stop a quiet whimper from being released. He knows the effect his low voice has on you. How bold to take advantage of that in this moment! You fight the growing heat down below, far too aware of how his body moulds to yours perfectly.

“Raf,” you sigh, pushing against his chest. His grip on you tightens, his powerful strength revealed beneath the moonlight. But he allows a sliver of space between you two upon considering your frown.

You exhale, “If this is real, then how did you survive? You were dead. And now you’re…?” One of his hands comes to his chin as he ponders your question. You stare at him as he takes his sweet time, reality beginning to settle upon your shoulders. It pushes you down, your knees buckling and bones creaking as you attempt to remain standing.

If your husband really is back, then…

“It’s like a distant dream, princess. I don’t really remember what happened. But when I woke up, I was like this,” he finally answers.

You huff, exhaustion bubbling to the surface, “Raf… I still don’t understand. You’re saying that by some miracle you’re alive again?” He shakes his head, a smirk on his lips that is devoid of warmth. In his eyes is not amusement but a cruel glint. It’s like the man you love has been re-animated, his limbs tied up with invisible strings for the puppeteer to put on a heart-wrenching performance.

“Not alive, cutie,” he corrects you while tucking a stray strand behind your ear. “More like… undead.” You scoff, your hunger and sleep deprivation mixing to form the worst combination: hangtirey.

“Look, Raf, if this is some sick joke, you can stop now. It’s not funny—”

“You know what’s not funny, cutie?” The shred of distance between your bodies is closed by your husband’s arm around your waist. His grip is like that of a martyr, clutching onto his Lord and the cross as he’s stoned to death by the pagans. Rafayel’s false breath fans your lips, a hint of iron.

“How determined you are to believe that I’m gone. Don’t you want me? Didn’t you miss me like I missed you?”

Before you can answer, he whips something out of his pocket while explaining, “That night, I went back into the fire to get this for you.” He holds the trinket up to the light. A necklace. The most beautiful necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. Pearls laced with luxurious gold, the necklace has a similar style to a rosary. A prayer to the Sea God, then for eternal protection.

“I made it for our wedding anniversary. Do you like it?” He asks. You nod enthusiastically, every critique of how this is too good to be true immediately crumbling into nothing.

“Let me put it on for you.” He unclasps the necklace and drapes it on your collarbones before you can even get a word out.

After securing the necklace, your husband steps back to admire his handiwork. The drop chain sits in the crevice between your heaving breasts just right, the irregular pearl instantly warmed by your body heat.

His eyes shine, pink tongue darting across his lips in anticipation of what’s to come. You take a stuttered breath in, his undying love weighing upon your neck now. You’ve always been a masterpiece in Rafayel’s eyes. But there’s something about the added clarity from his transformation that makes you appear even more exquisite. Or perhaps it’s the scent of your blood pulsing in your arteries and flowing back to your heart through your veins. That sweet slosh, he could moan at the mere thought, let alone the taste.

The taste.

Oh, how he craves to drink from you! His mortal wife. All it would take is one bite, and he could add an ‘im’ to that title.

Once more, he closes that unbearable gap between the two of you. His lips are on yours within seconds, the start of another breathtaking exchange. It’s hard to know if the saliva dripping down your chin is yours or your lover's. Not that it matters.

His tongue samples your mouth like it’s a fine meal fit for royalty. He savours your flavour, unrelenting in his pursuit of swallowing your moans whole. Those slender hands slide up your sides, squeezing and tugging on your bodice with barely contained restraint.

Restraint? Laughable. As if Rafayel had a fraction of it. More precisely, as if Rafayel had a fraction of it left.

Breaking your kiss, he mumbles lustfully, “Don’t make me wait any longer, my dearest.”

“Raf!” You squeal as he grabs your hips roughly and starts walking you back, deeper into the mausoleum. His eyes glint in the shadows, vibrant pinky-blue amid the darkness. That passionate gaze blazing with intent, you’ve seen it almost every night since the tragic fire that supposedly claimed his life.

Your calves hit carved stones, the ridges leaving an impression on your skin beneath layers of black fabric.

“Raf,” you moan, your back arching as he presses you firmly into him. His lips are just below your ear, his icy tongue lapping at the boiling flesh there. Your breath catches as his ravenous kisses trail across to the column of your neck. Sharp fangs pull at your delicate skin, the pleasure mixing with pain, which sends you into delirium.

Your husband paints your neck with love bites, the red splotches varying in intensity for an artistic touch. You tug on his purple locks, sweet cries escaping your lips as he leaves a particularly harsh hickey near your collarbone.

He chuckles teasingly, “How you holding up, cutie? I’ve barely gotten started.” You hum in response, nothing coherent forming in your mind. His very presence is intoxicating, and his touches are… like a regret. They consume your conscious mind. They have you spiralling into worlds you never knew existed. And they tether you to this plane of existence while driving you up the wall at the same time.

The sound of fabric ripping ricochets off the mausoleum walls alongside your own cry as Rafayel tears your bodice to shreds. On the marble floor falls a crumpled heap of black that was formerly your dress. Not even your chemise is spared from his assault. All the while, he sucks the cruellest hickey beneath your jaw.

Pulling back, he takes a moment to admire his magnificent, bare wife with a blissed out grin. Only your wedding ring and the necklace he just gifted to you are left; a show of ownership. You squirm under his hungry gaze, those eyes gleaming like jewels as they roam over you. You’re just as he remembered. With a sigh, he stalks toward you and embraces you again.

He mumbles love-drunk praises across your collarbone, his nose coming to nuzzle your shoulder affectionately. Your husband paws at your hips, kneading the soft flesh there like the adorable vile creatures he detests. Only your pants can be heard amongst the dead.

Gripping his clothed shoulders, you pout, “Why am I the only one naked, Rafie? What about you?” His kisses on your upper arm come to a halt, and he gazes up at you. But his familiar blush is missing. The heat in his gaze is isolated, only pale skin stretching taut over his bones and muscles.

He chuckles, “I was getting to it, princess.” Your husband straightens up and grabs your hands.

Placing them on his chest, he continues, “But seeing as you’re so eager, you wanna help me?” His brow lifts as he nods slightly; a wordless invitation to rediscover your Lemurian lover.

“Mhmm,” you hum and immediately start working on the buttons of his shirt. You’re only able to unbutton half of them before he’s grasping the edges of his shirt and tearing the rest of it open.

“Too slow, cutie. You can do better than that,” he taunts.

“Raf,” you pout, momentarily upset that he stole your wifely duties. He takes care of his tailcoat and shirt while you start on his trouser fastenings.

Teamwork makes the dreamwork, and soon enough, you’re both back to making out, your bare bodies pressed firmly against one another. No separation remains. You feel like you can finally breathe with his cool skin against yours.

The chill is nearly intolerable, not only from your husband’s body, but also from the mausoleum’s air and freezing stone floor. You moan loudly as Rafayel suddenly sucks on your nipple. He gazes up at you, his siren eyes big and his mouth anxious to please. His tongue is like an ice cube rolling around your nipple. The sensation sends goosebumps rippling across your skin.

When he pulls away, spit connects his tongue to your stiff peak. His grin snaps it.

He stands upright and squeezes your arms while suggesting, “Why don’t we lie down, hmm? I mean, we can do this standing up if you want. Buuuuut, it might be more comfortable lying down.” You nod, yet frown when he steps aside.

“What’re you doing, darling?” You whine.

“Fixing our bed, duh.” Bending down, Rafayel picks up the heavy lid to his stone coffin with ease.

“Can’t believe you opened it,” he remarks.

Staring at his flexed arm muscles, you murmur, “I wanted to see you again.” Your eyes quickly scrunch up as he drops the lid onto his open tomb with a harsh clatter. The dust settles, and he’s grasping your wrist. Guiding you forward, your eyes open gradually. Your husband releases your wrist only to hoist you up by the waist and place you down on his coffin.

You exclaim, “Raf! We can’t do this here!”

He shrugs, a cocky smirk stretching across his plump lips, “Well, where else d’you wanna do this, cutie? On the floor? Might be a bit cold, though. Not to mention, who knows how many people have been here before? What if they dirtied the floor or something? I can’t make love to my wife on the floor. So I guess my tomb will have to do.”

“Raf—” Your sweet plea is consumed by your lover. There is no rest for the wicked, and neither is there for you, as your husband pleases you from head to toe.

…˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚…

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out, your head falling back and hips bucking as Rafayel’s cool tongue roves over your clit. He drinks you up like some starved beast, ready to devour anything within reach. But make no mistake, your husband only thirsts for you. He only craves to fill you in every single way imaginable.

His fingers slip into your hole and trace along your ridged walls, all the way up. He applies the perfect amount of pressure to your g-spot, tearing a ragged moan straight from your throat. Your eyes roll back, his tongue still stimulating your clit. The sensations force the air out of your lungs.

Now, the squelching of his fingers deep in your cunt and your breathy mewls echo in the mausoleum. Oh, and Raf’s whimpers, too. Every single time he hums and moans into your pussy, your back arches. Your hands are tangled in his hair again, and you pull on the soft strands in an attempt to steady yourself.

But Rafayel leads you further from this place and into the sea. Your sharp cries are drowned out as you glide through the depths. Ecstasy strokes your skin, invisible hands caressing you gently and lulling you into the abyss.

No return.

As the pleasure intensifies—this coiling in your gut—there is no return.

You teeter on the edge, some underwater cliff. Within seconds, you’re toppling over with a guttural moan. Your thighs tense and shake on your lover’s shoulders, schools of fish swimming by, blind to the life-changing oblivion you’ve fallen into.

On your lips is the name of your husband, the sole word you can recall in your daze. His tender coos and slender hands rubbing your back and cradling your head guide you to the present.

You reach up and cup his cheek. His chin is dripping with your juices. You grin lazily. He leans down, and your lips reconnect with a mutual sigh. Your taste soaks his tongue, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“How’re you feeling, princess? Good? Ready for what comes next?” He asks, pulling back and resting his forehead against yours.

“Mhm-hmm,” you hum quietly. With a kiss to your cheek, Rafayel slips his sinewy arm around your hips and brings them up to his. His hard length runs through your folds; a few preliminary thrusts. But nothing can ever prepare you for the sublime feeling of your husband sinking deep into you. The stretch is satiating. A welcome home for your lover.

He slides in until your hips kiss, his eyes never leaving yours. The love within them makes your heart accelerate. You’re sure that his gaze reflects yours. Rafayel’s head dips, planting a chaste peck on your lips as he draws out of you slowly.

Your moan is strained: “Hah—Please, Raf, baby.”

Thrusting in, he breathes out, “Need you, too, my love.” Your hand latches onto his bicep and squeezes it with every controlled roll of his hips. His pace is agonisingly slow, but oh-so necessary. You won’t be able to go on if you can’t feel every vein and curve of his cock, and Rafayel feels the same about your hot cunt.

The marble beneath your body has gradually warmed up. However, you still shiver as your husband pushes in particularly deeply.

“Raf!” You mewl. You swear he’s in your throat right now with how he’s rutting into you. Everywhere you look, there he is. Tangible and pleasuring you beyond belief. No reminders of your long-lost love, just him. Finally, you two have been reunited.

With the shifting of the clouds, your joined figures are bathed in a celestial glow once more; a masterpiece carved in slick and sealed atop stone. Your husband cups your jaw, his cool fingers at the back of your neck; much-needed relief. He tips your head forward, your eyes meeting once more. You lean up and place a searing kiss on his lips.

Separating, you pant, “Raf, if you were never dead—mhmm!—then, why didn’t you tell me sooner? What about the funeral?” Rafayel answers with another soul-binding kiss. His lips press hard into yours, and his hips now grind against you. The stimulation on your clit is heavenly; just enough, but not too much to overstimulate you.

When he draws back, he grins, “To keep up appearances, cutie.” You shift your knees back toward your chest, your heels now sitting in the dimples above his arse. The change in angle has him thrusting even deeper into you.

“Now—hah!—I can take you away from here. We can—fuck—we can start anew. Just you and me by the ocean, princess. How does that sound?” Your husband moans. You nod frantically and hastily pull him in for a kiss. Teeth and tongues clash as you dare to taste every corner of his mouth. His fangs nibble on your lower lip, sending your back arching into another crescent moon.

However, your lover wasn’t careful enough this time. Blood trickles from your lip into his mouth, the flavour luxurious. He whimpers, his tongue lapping at your stinging bottom lip, pursuing every last drop of your crimson delicacy. Never before has Rafayel tasted anything so addictive. It’s like the taste of your blood was formulated just for him, for his demise.

All you can taste is metal, but your husband is sampling paradise on earth. He ruts into you rougher now, your delicious flavour fuelling his bodily needs. Those strong hands slide down to your thighs. He grabs the backs of them and pushes your knees up near your chin while leaning back momentarily.

Now, your legs sit between your bodies. Your ankles are resting over one of Rafayel’s shoulders while he pounds you into his tomb. Words tumble from your lips, slurred and broken as his cock explores the most intimate parts of your body. You tense around him, your gummy walls squeezing any shred of life left in your husband. Your end is drawing near, the finish line—albeit hazy—in sight. So too does his.

A rising crescendo. Both of your moans intermingle as your husband’s thrusts grow sloppier. You don’t even have time to cry out before your climax crashes into you like a freight train. Your screams bounce off the mausoleum’s walls, and your body shakes beneath Rafayel’s.

With a few more ruts into you, he finishes with a strained moan. Your nails dig into his upper back, the feeling of his cum filling your cunt intensifying your pleasure. His forehead rests against yours, little whimpers spurring on your gentle rocking until you two eventually stop.

Your Lemurian lover kisses your temple before sitting back and setting your legs down. Then, he collapses on top of you, the strength in his body drained. You squeal as his arms embrace you, his freezing forehead lying on the junction between your neck and shoulder. Your chest rises and falls heavily, breasts squished by his solid chest. Only your heart beats erratically.

Rafayel murmurs against your sweat-soaked skin, “I’ll love you for eternity, cutie. Will you love me?” His tone is serious.

You run your fingers through his messy hair and giggle breathily, “Who else would I love if not you, Rafie? These past few hellish days have confirmed that.” You gently tug on the strands at his nape. His head lolls back, and he gazes at you tenderly.

“You’re not allowed to leave me ever again, Raf,” you pout.

“Mhmm.” Shifting up, he kisses you sweetly, reassuring you that indeed, you two will never be parted once more. He then pecks your nose, under eyes, eyelids, and brows. Pulling back, he stares at you affectionately.

“I’ll always be with you, cutie. Always. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

masterlist

star girl's final words: actually posted this on ao3 like a couple of weeks ago sooooooo i was tossing up whether to post an excerpt or post the full fic on here, but here you go.

“i’m hoommee~” you say as you open the door to your apartment, Valko had been stuck in his room for three days now and you were determined to finally get him out of that hell hole, and know whatever reason he has to be in there for so long.

you take off your shoes as the halls echoed what you said for a moment without any reply. I mean you were used to it, kind of, valko would only reply to you when you bang knock on his door for the past three days at least.

you walk pass the hallway with your groceries, passing by his room, slightly open, surprisngly? you placed the groceries on the kitchen counter before tip-toeing your way into the hallway again, peaking into Valko’s room.

“mmnnwgh.. nnghh.. nggh~”

what? did you even hear that correctly, it sounded like small whimpers, no, moans. You squint your eyes to try and adjust to see in the darkness, and that you succeed because you see a big shadow walking towards you with long strides.

“AHH— mmffhh—” you try to scream but a huge hand covers your mouth, to take a second to process what happened you look up only to meet a golden glow in their eyes, it was no one but Valko.

he swiftly moves the hand on your mouth towards the back of your head and smashes presses his mouth into yours. his tongue forces entry so naturally. Valko then pulled you in his room and slam the door behind you, pinning you agaisnt it.

His tongue was basically fucking your mouth, hell it was almost like it wanted to be in your throat. You knew he felt different, hungry, desperate, he was in a rut.

he practically rips himself out of your mouth. “fuck.. no i’m sorry.. please get out..” your eyesbrows furrow when you hear him say the words “you’re in heat aren’t you?” you say not wasting any time stalling, you already had a hunch since he’s been ignoring you for the past 3 days but now seeing the tech ceo in his hybrid form basically drooling..

fuck he looks so attractive

he slowly nods his head, burrying his face on the crevice on your neck, whimpering sweet nothings into your ear, he was basically saying fuck me already.

you ruffle your fingers through his hair as he wraps his hands arond you and lifts you, slowly laying you both on his bed, his head not leaving your neck.

“i-im sorry i had to ignore you pup.. I feel like if I payed attention to you I would’ve bent you over everywhere.. anywhere.. shit.. im so fucking hard right now” despite valko mumbling the last bit of his sentence you heard everything clearly. he would then unbutton your shirt slowly as he mumbled another “fuck..cant take it.. pup smells so good, so good”.

Valko pressed open-mouthed kisses slowly, gently, onto your neck, then your clavicle, then your chest. you flinch at the contact. then he goes lower, onto your belly button, to your abdomen, kissing, licking sucking everywhere, and you realizing he was also humping the sheets below while he did that.

was this Valko in heat? fuck.. he acts like a whole different person, it was turning you on and yet he still hasn’t even touched there yet.

he would then just tug your panties to the side and lick a long stripe along your folds to your clit.. “ngh..~” you moan at the contact. and that snapped all his restraint. in an instant he gripped both of your thighs locking them in place below him before sucking your clit, rubbing circles with his tongue on it. licking everywhere like a puppy who spilled milk on the floor.

you were melting, god.

the coil in your stomach was building so fast, as your hands instinctively grab onto his hair, pulling him deeper into your pussy. he pushed his tongue in your slit as his nose proded your clit just in the right spot.. “mmhh~ nggh~ a little more..~” you whine.

“cum for me.. slurp on my tongue pup.. slurp please i need it.. cum..~” the coil snapped as you shake, reaching your first of many very many orgasms for the night. your toes curl as he kept lapping on your pussy, guiding you through the aftershocks.

“w-wait i just came— ngghh~” Valko presses a finger inside as his mouth’s focus went right back to your clit “mm~ another one yeah? gimme one more, pup.. i want it.. need it..” he slowly grinds his finger inside before slipping another one in as you mewled gritting your teeth, he curled his fingers straight into your g-spot.

“ffuuckk~ no thnnhhfff~” you were going to cum again. “val- valko waitngffg~ i can feel something~ nghh..” Valko didnt couldnt listen, he was focused on making you cum again.

one last suck on your clit got you over the edge and you were squirting, he tried to drink everything but some dribbled down his chin, onto his neck, his shirt, the man was soaked in your juices.

“pup.. that was so fucking.. hot..” he finally lapped up the last of your juices standing up to kneel in between your legs. he licked his lips coated with yout juice before letting his cock free. you stare intensely.

“at least take the tip in.. you would don’t you?” he drags his cock along ur folds slowly, seductively, before lining it up.

“fuuckk.. look at the way your pussy just swallows the tip of mh— my cock.. so pretty..~ mmhhm~” valko mutters before hooking one of your legs over his shoulder to get a deep angle.

he would then shove it all in one thrust.

“annghh!~” you moan as you feel his cock getting burried deep inside you. “annghh~ hehe..” Valko mocks ur moans before giggling, this absolute sadist. “Im going to start moving now mkay..?” he pulls back all the way to the tip then he slams it in without mercy, “ffuckkmhgg~” you moan as valko begins his rhythm prodding at your cervix with every thrust. “here why don’t i just—“ Valko flips you onto your stomach, his cock still inside you. the doggy likes doggy style after all.

he presses your head agaisnt the pillow. “moan all you want pup, because im afraid i cant control myself any more” he whispers before kissing your cheek.

his hands on your waist using you guiding your hips, they were bound to leave a mark the next day. His thrusts were insane, balls deep and fast at first, then shallow fast thrusting, then deep grinding, then balls deep fucking again. you were practically cumming every time he retracts and slams himself back into you

“pup? do you think this— mghh~” he asks as he grinds into her g-spot. “oh— your squirting again~” he says with a smug smile he knows what he’s doinf to you and he absolutely loves it. you were wailing pushing ur head onto the pullows.

“my big fat tip is just bullying— mghh your cervix isn’t it?” at this point you were already long gone, drowned in the pleasure. “fuck.. im going to knot you real fucking good— nggh~ yeah baby? deep inside~”

you couldnt register what he was saying anymore before you snapped back because you could geel the base of his cock expand twice in girth. “mhgghh~ shit..~ Valkoo~” your lower body collapses and valko just goes along with it. knotting you in the prone bone position.

the last thing you could remember or feel was his cock twitching deep inside you giving your cervix load after load with each spurt, painting your insides white.

Leon didn't mean to ignore you, it just happened when he got buried too deep in the paperwork for missions and reports on rookie agents that he was unwillingly training with fellow agents.

Tonight was one of those nights. He had just returned from a shorter mission, and he was bombarded with a short deadline and a pile of work to finish up. Thank God for the computer you'd convinced him to get after his last bad pile of work. Otherwise, that old man would be so much more unhappy this time. The computer made it easier for him to work at home, let him do things a bit quicker, but it still took him ages.

You'd had a long day, so you decided to just order dinner, and when the takeout arrived, you peeked into his home office with a gentle knock. "Lee?" You called softly. You barely leaned back to hear you, offering a gruff hum of question. "Food's here. You should come eat while it's warm." You said, stepping in further to flick his lamp on. He had a bad habit of working in the dark, straining his eyes. That's why he had to wear those glasses—the ones that were set aside and ignored. You huffed.

"I'll be done soon, sweetheart." He said dismissively. He typed away, brows furrowed, and eyes squinted from not blinking for so damn long. His habits only worsened as of late, making you frown.

"You've barely eaten, Leon." You said, picking up his glasses and grabbing him by the cheek to turn his head and slip the glasses on. He blinked finally, eyes burning from them drying out.

"I'm fine. I just have one more thing to do." He said, turning away to look back at the screen and return to his furious typing. At least his brows relaxed, and his eyes no longer squinted. But you didn't walk away yet. You leaned into his chair from behind, chin resting on his shoulder as your arms wrapped lazily around him and his chair.

"But your 'one more thing' is a lie. You've been saying that for two hours. You haven't even showered. Your routine is all messed up, Lee." You muttered, voice quiet as your hands came to lightly massage at his biceps and shoulders, thumbs digging into the tight muscles. Leon gave a small groan, conflicted.

"I know my routine is thrown off." He exhaled deeply. "But if I don't finish this tonight, it'll throw off my work schedule tomorrow."

"Can I do anything to help?" You asked, pressing more weight into him from behind, like a dog pushing for attention.

"No." He said simply. "Just go ahead and wait for me, okay?" Finally, he tore away from his computer to turn and look at you. It seemed he hoped to get you away with a kiss, leaning in for a sweet connection of your lips to his.

You pressed in for the kiss, one hand cupping his cheek. He planned on a quick peck, but when you kept it going, deepening the kiss with an unexpected effort, Leon couldn't help the low moan that left his lips and fell into yours.

"I just wanna help." You mused, kissing down his stubbled cheek, jaw, and landing on his neck with open-mouthed kisses.

"You're not being very helpful, sweetheart." He groaned. Despite his attitude, he didn't turn away, didn't push you away.

"But I can be." You purred, nipping at his jaw.

"But you can't." He huffed further, eyes fluttering closed.

"You haven't even let me try, baby."

Leon was always pleased at your new strategies of distraction and seduction. You'd always find new ways to incorporate pleasure into his boring activities. Like now. Leon had the mindset that he was too old to be doing silly things like this, messing around when he should be working. But you, oh, you with your pretty voice that lulled him into relaxing, your cute little doe eyes that peered up at him while you lowered yourself onto your knees, turning his chair entirely to face you.

"I really should be focusing." He sighed, shifting his hips back to readjust, readied to turn away.

"Uh-uh." You reached up, grabbing him by his belt loops to tug him closer. "Let me focus on you." You looked up at him.

"I shouldn't.." he trailed off, your hand coming yo palm his half-hard cock through his jeans. He sighed, head leaning back.

"But you want to. Because you just can't pass up a chance to get your dick sucked, huh?" You teased, palm grinding gently against the tip through his jeans.

He hissed, hips tugging away. "Fuck, don't be so rough with it." He breathed out a laugh, brows furrowed. His glasses slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose thanks to the scrunch of his nose.

"But you're so rough with me. Why can you be rough but I can't?" You spat, dragging his hips in closer.

"No, that's not—" He choked on his protest when you squeezed him through his clothes, hips bucking.

You watched him as you undid the belt and zipper of his jeans, and he didn't argue as he lifted his hips to let you tug his pants to his mid thigh, pulling his cock out and letting it rest against his thigh, heavy and waiting.

Much to Leon's surprise, you leaned in and kissed his tip, one hand wrapping around the base to hold it upright. You simply felt the weight in your hand, head turned and resting at his thigh as you kissed along the length, hand lazily stroking up and down to get him fully hard. He shuddered, head falling back.

"You—mmh—you've made your point, sweetheart. You don't have to—" He was cut off by a low groan as you licked at his balls, his hands clutching onto his armrests.

"Mmh," you exaggerated a moan, giggling as you felt him shiver.

"Come on, don't tease me." He breathed, reaching out to push your hair out of your face. You smacked his hand away.

"Sit still." You demanded, and he reluctantly listened. Brows furrowed more out of annoyance now. He'd definitely give you a taste of your own medicine later.

"I know I ignored you for a while, but can't you cut an old man some slack?" He frowned, feigning guilt.

"Oh, please, I'm sucking your dick. That's more than enough slack and grace than what you should be getting." You huffed, shifting and lifting your head. Leon didn't get to say anything else as you took his tip into your mouth, letting spit dribble out and spill down his length in slow, bubbly droplets. You suckled at his tip, tongue working along the sensitive skin, focusing on the underside with a firmly pointed tongue.

With the spit dripping down, you used it as a lubricant, stroking him with ease. He groaned, legs spreading further as his hips pushed forward, encouraging you to keep it up. You were still slightly annoyed with him, but you'd never deny just how sexy he was when he'd man spread and use his hips to chase your mouth, low groans and occasional whimpers leaving your lips.

You began to bob your head up and down, taking only an inch and a half, lips stretched over his girth as you kept your eyes down, not yet giving him the pleasure of the sight that he was always weak for—you, choking on his cock, looking up at him with your dazed, watery, doe eyes. Leon brought a hand down, gathering your hair in a bad, loose grip for a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of the way. Leon used that as leverage, encouraging you to move faster, even pushing your head deeper. You gagged, coughing slightly before letting him continue, eyes squeezed shut.

"Fuck, gonna drive me crazy like this. Lookin' so damn pretty while you can barely fit my dick in your mouth." He moaned, looking down at you as both hands held your head, rocking you back and forth. Drool had already made a mess of his length, pooling at his base and dripping down his balls.

You finally looked up at him, hands holding onto his thighs as you whimpered around him, only to be followed by a gag as he pushed your head down further, just two inches from taking him fully. He watched your eyes water, fat tears rolling down your hot cheeks. He used one thumb to wipe at your tears.

"Oh, poor thing. Crying for me already?" He cooed, grip tightening in your hair before he leaned back fully, allowing you to take some control back to determine how deep he went. Just a small break. Leon let out a slightly higher pitched moan when he felt your hand creep to grab his balls, fondling and squeezing, determined to make him drop that cocky facade of his. If you didn't know any better, you'd test him by using your teeth just to piss him off, but you weren't that annoyed. And you'd rather not test him any further.

Leon's eyes rolled back as you took it upon yourself to take him deeper, his tip pressing deeper into your throat with every forward push of your head. He was getting close, you knew, his cock twitching, and his nose scrunching so cute as he fought against his body's desire to cum all too soon. You suddenly lifted your head, coughing slightly as you caught your breath, but your hand kept stroking him, squeezing with every fast stroke. You scooted closer, mouth open and waiting.

"Oh, fuuuck," Leon laughed, a breathy and excited noise. "God, you're so fucking hot. You ready, sweetheart? You want me to cum in your mouth?" He hissed, letting you continue. Once you caught your breath, you dived back in, taking him all the way on the first try. To your pleasure, he let out a high-pitched moan, broken whimpers following as your head bobbed almost violently, gagging and choking filling the room.

With a final push of your head, he held your head in place, your nose pressed into his bushy pubic bone, cock spilling his cum straight down your throat as you cried, trying desperately to breathe through your nose and not let your gag reflex ruin it.

He eased your head off, watching you swallow his load before you pulled completely away, coughing and clutching onto his thighs as you regained control of your breathing. He huffed, head falling back as his eyes fell shut. He brought one hand up, brushing his hair back and out of his face. He fixed his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose.

"You're such a fucking hypocrite." You huffed, crawling up into his lap. Leon blinked, looking at you as he lifted his head.

"Sorry?"

"You told me not to be rough, and then you went and damn near killed me because you couldn't wait to get your dick down my throat." You pouted, arms crossed as you straddled his lap. Leon could feel the heat radiating from between your legs and through the thin layer of your leggings and panties.

"Oh," he chuckled, relaxing as he realized you were merely whining again. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, it felt really," he leaned in, kissing your neck softly. "really, really fucking good." He purred, voice dropping to a whisper. "You know I can't get enough of it when I've got you on your knees, your poor little mouth barely able to fit my fat cock." He felt you shiver, hips pressing into him as you melted against him, curling forward to hide your face in his neck.

"You're dirty." You complained, resorting to harmless insults as you refused to properly ask for him to tend to your needs. "Dirty like a dog in a rut."

"Mmh, but you love it when I'm dirty and mean. I can feel your pretty pussy soaked through those pants. That's two layers to soak through, so you must be pretty excited." He mused, hands grabbing your hips to drag your heat along his already hardening cock. You whined, hips moving to grind with his touch.

"You're so mean to me." You pouted into his shoulder.

"Mean? Even though I'm gonna be so kind and gracious to give you what you want?" He pulled away, grabbing your chin to lift your head and make you look at him. You leaned back, only to be caught with his arm around your waist. "Nuh-uh. Look at me." He said, hand leaving your chin and moving to grab you by your hair, leaving you unable to move without your hair being pulled. You whined, wriggling in his lap.

"Just fuck me already." You squirmed, hips grinding down onto him.

"You're demanding for a girl who's just been awfully distracting." He lifted you, turning his chair to set you on the edge of his desk. He scooted in closer, face pressing straight between your tits. He could see you weren't wearing a bra, so he tugged your shirt up, one hand groping and kneading your boob as his mouth focused on the other, biting and leaving marks around your nipple.

While he busied his mouth, you took it upon yourself to shimmy your way out of your pants, dropping yourself back onto his lap and pushing his mouth away, pouting at him. "You've neglected me all day. I just sucked your dick. I'm plenty wet and aroused." You huffed. "I need you." You leaned in, kissing him deeply. He moaned almost immediately, and you could feel him smirk against your lips.

"I love it when you get all vulgar and lewd." He purred, reaching between your bodies to push your panties aside. He nearly whined when he felt how slick you were, pulling his fingers away from your folds to watch a string of your arousal spread between his two fingers.

He slid his length between your folds, breathing out shakily as his tip notched against your entrance. You whined. He tugged your hips up and closer to him, and as he pressed the cock head to your hole, he let you slip down easily, taking his length with ease from how excited you were. Your eyes fluttered shut, a small gasp leaving your lips as his tip pressed snug against that sweet spot deep inside of you. You practically thanked the gods everytime—that subtle upward curve of his cock gave so many advantages when it came to sex.

You didn't hesitate to begin, hips rising and falling, pulling moans and whines from both of you. He leaned back, watching you fuck yourself on his dick, letting you control the pace and intensity while he dropped one hand to splay at your lower belly, his thumb venturing lower to lazily rub circles into your clit. You moaned louder, grinding forward into his touch, seeking a deeper pressure. He gave it to you, too deep not to encourage your pleasure.

Your thighs began to burn relatively fast, so you grabbed onto his shoulders tight, using him for support. When it didn't give enough, you leaned into him, offering a frustrated cry as you put all your weight against his shoulders. Leon made a small noise to acknowledge you before he lifted you to put you on the very edge of the desk, your arms dropping to instinctively hold yourself as he stood and took control of the pace, fucking into you rapidly as your head fell back with a squeal. The computer had long turned off, untouched for too long.

Leon lifted you off of the desk, making you gasp. His strength, especially at his age, never ceased to amaze you. He held you up, rocking you back and forth to meet in the middle for each of his mean thrusts. You cried out, one arm coming to wrap around his neck while the other grabbed at the desk's edge for support.

"Let go, sweetheart. I've got you." He panted, one hand slipping upward to provide more support at your upper back. You hesitated, but listened as it became too much. You mewled, arms wrapped tight around his neck as your face buried into his shoulder. He muttered filthy praise, practically begging you to cum on his dick and drench him in your juices. He was so lewd when he got what he wanted.

But it didn't take long for his wishes to be granted, only moments later. "Oh, fuck, Leon!" You moaned, head falling back as you gushed and pulsed around his length, vision blurring and going fuzzy as he fucked you through your orgasm. He followed, biting your shoulder with a deep moan as his cock twitched and spilled into you, hips faltered as his cock became too sensitive. He shivered as he buried himself deep inside of you, letting his cock spurt out a few last efforts of really filling you up.

He stayed still, his own thighs shaking as he soothed over the bite on your shoulder, licking and mouthing at it as an apology. You whined, head tilted against his as you sought more attention.

"Mmh." He hummed. "Still so needy." He teased. You smacked lazily at his ribs. "Don't worry, I like it when you get all clingy." He mused. He lifted you off his cock, shuddering as he tugged your panties to cover you up for the time being. It felt so dirty once his cum leaked out, soaking against the cotton gusset. You groaned unpleasantly.

"Shower." You said, looking up at him.

"Shower." He agreed, already on the move to carry you to the bathroom and get you all cleaned up.

Leon knew he liked boobs. Especially yours. From the very first time you two were intimate, he knew he would never get enough. It started simply with a deep fixation of watching your tirs bounce with every movement—whether he was thrusting into you or you were riding him. It was simple, the response being a deep groan followed by him roughly palming the meat of your breast, hissing as he felt his balls tighten.

It grew within the span of a week and a half. You two had sex maybe four times by the time he was embarrassingly turned on by your breasts. Yours specifically. He'd see them in the mornings when you'd wake up and get changed out of his shirt that you wore when you spent the night at his place, and he'd curse himself and roll onto his stomach with a deep groan, making you laugh at him every time.

"Jesus, it's 6 a.m., and you've got a boner because I took my shirt off." You teased, which he responded with a grumbled 'you're evil', barely audible in the pillow he had his face buried in.

Leon loved when you'd wear low-cut dresses for date night, bonus points if he bought the dress for you—which he bought the majority of your expensive, fancier dresses, so it was often you wore one for him. He'd behave in public, but the moment you were in his Porsche, he took advantage of the tinted windows and thanked the gods above that his libido hadn't declined yet, especially given his history with alcohol and depression, among other factors he never liked to think about.

Months into the relationship, Leon, shockingly, had never thought of using your breasts for anything other than groping and kissing or biting. You two hadn't explored much yet. But one night, with him laying his head on your stomach, his attention focused on a movie while yours focused on a book that you'd been trying to finish.

"Hey, Lee?" You hummed, still focused on your book.

"'Sup?" He muttered, barely coherent as he looked up at you, chin pressed into your belly.

"Do you wanna try something tonight?" You asked. Leon raised a brow, curious with how intently you were reading the book.

"What do you have in mind, gorgeous?" He asked, propping himself up with his forearms on either side of your waist.

"We both know you've got a thing for my boobs." You said bluntly, finally setting the book down to look at him.

"...yes, i do?" He prompted, cheeks warming faintly.

"Have you ever thought about a tit-fuck?"

"A what-now?" His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, which gave you the answer. He clearly hadn't, or he would've been smug and excited rather than baffled and bashful.

"Tit-fuck. It's a vulgar way to say it, but it's literally what it is. You'd—"

"I know what a tit-fuck is, I just.." he exhaled, face pressing into the fabric of your shirt to hide. "Didn't expect you to be so blunt about it." He laughed faintly.

"Leon, that's the least of our vulgar and erotic activities. You've tied me up and had me nearly pass out."

He let out a smug, cocky snicker. "Yeah, I did."

"Exactly. So, do you wanna try it?" You lifted his head, making him look at you.

"Would you be willing?"

"I'm asking. I think it could be fun. I've never done it."

"You haven't done a lot, sweetheart." He chuckled, watching you roll your eyes. "But if you want to try it, I think you know my answer." He crawled up closer, and as his lips found yours, the answer lied between your legs as he immediately pressed his boner against your clothed pussy. You gasped lightly, the sound swallowed by his eager kisses.

"Jesus, you're such a dog." You breathed, a breathy laugh following as he bit at your lower lip.

"Only for you, baby." He mused, kissing his way down your jawline.

"Hang on, not on the couch." You swatted his chest. "It's too messy for that."

"Mmh, but what if I like a little mess?" He snickered, earning another swat. "Ow! Okay, jeez," he huffed. "Women." He joked, rolling his eyes. He sat up, looking down at your unamused expression.

"Keep it up and I'll go fuck myself on a dildo instead of you." You threatened.

"You wouldn't." He grabbed you, lifting you by your thighs to throw you over his shoulder as he stood and marched toward his bedroom. A man on a mission could not be stopped.

"Would."

"Wouldn't."

"Would."

He gave a lazy swat to your butt as he carefully flipped you back onto the bed, a hand on the back of your head to ensure it didn't get hit or jerk around too much.

"Wouldn't."

"You're acting like a teenager."

He pouted faintly, crawling to settle between your thighs as he tugged you to sit upright with him. "No, I'm telling you you'd never dare."

"I do it all the time when I'm home. When you're gone." You snickered, watching him deflate at the thought. Not sad deflation, but deflation like he was going to lose his mind at the images flashing through his mind.

"You're going to be the death of me." He breathed, leaning in to find your lips with his. You pressed forward, crawling into his lap as you pushed his shirt up slightly, hands falling back down to fumble with his belt.

He moved to quickly remove your shirt, palms flying straight for your bra clad breasts, tugging the cups downward to reveal the fleshy mounds. They were almost immediately covered by his palms as his lips peppered along your neck, finding a good rhythm to suck and bite at your neck and collarbone. His index fingers and his thumbs rolled your nipples between the calloused pads, eliciting a soft mewl as you arched your back and pressed your chest into his touch.

"Can't wait to put my cock between these pretty things." He uttered, licking over a bite just below your pulse. He growled faintly at the sensation of your hand working its way into his pants, cupping his balls through his boxers. He lifted the meat of your right breast, moaning deeply as his lips latched around your nipple. His tongue swirled, teeth nipping roughly. The rough treatment pulled a small whimper from you. Leon spent the next five minutes getting his fill, switching between your breasts and switching between his mouth and hands. He kept going until he felt dampness seeping from your clothed pussy and onto his clothed length, which you were still lazily stroking.

"Leon," you whined.

"Wha's wrong, gorgeous?" His voice came out muffled before he pulled back and looked up at you, tongue swiping over his lip.

"You're about to put your dick between them, and you're stalling."

"No, baby," he leaned in to kiss the corner of your lips. "Not stalling. Just making sure you're properly touched and waiting for once I'm done." He purred, meeting your lips with a sloppy kiss. He followed your movements as you crawled out of his lap and kneeled at the side of the bed, scooting closer. Leon followed, spreading his legs to let you take the lead.

You pressed forward, tugging his pants down before you pulled his cock from his boxers, diving forward to kiss along the underside of the shaft. He breathed, head falling back with a roll of his eyes. Your lips met his tip, tongue darting out to offer a slow lick along his leaky cock head. When you pulled back, he groaned and looked down, only for his cock to twitch at the sight of you pressing your breasts together.

"I might not last long."

"Good. Don't hold back. The goal is to get you dealt with in record time."

"Dealt with? You say it like it's hard for me to cum." He laughed, scooting closer until his cock was merely an inch away from your chest.

"I know it's not. I just wanna find the best ways to get you all messy like you do to me."

"I don't break easily, sweetheart."

"Sure you don't. Let's just ignore how quickly you came the first time I let you cum inside of me."

Leon's cheeks warmed, a groan leaving his lips. "You're vulgar."

"Just shut up and put your dick in its place." You scooted closer.

It was an awkward start, Leon struggling to find the right starting point. He shifted his hips lower as you kneeled a little taller, chest puffed outward to offer a better angle. Carefully, he slid his tip underneath, smearing his precum at the bottom of your cleavage. He shivered, only to roll his eyes as he slipped through the space between your breasts.

You tilted your head downward and opened your mouth, lightly licking at his tip before spitting, watching his lips part with a moan. Using the spit as lubricant, he slid back and forth, which you mimicked vaguely the act of meeting him halfway with your chest bouncing around his cock. He whined.

He whined.

The sound made you snicker, looking up at him. "I've never heard that sound from you."

"I've never done this. Shut up." He swallowed, brows furrowing.

Your head tilted forward again, mouth opening and tongue sticking out to lick at his tip with every upward thrust of his, occasionally spitting to add onto the slippery sensation and the soft sounds of your spit slicking his cock. Leon reached out, replacing your hands with his so he could grope your tits from the side to push them tighter together. His head fell back, a low moan spilling from his lips as his thrusts, although messy, became faster, rushed.

He really might cum in record time, you thought. You brought one hand to form an 'O' at the top where his cock would poke out, adding some specific attention to his leaky tip everytime he'd thrust upward. "Oh, shit." He breathed, brows furrowing. The rough fingertips dug into your breasts, his thumbs subconsciously circling your nipples to elicit a soft mewl from you.

"Come on, I won't tease. I just wanna make you feel good." You purred, your other free hand coming beneath him to find his balls, massaging slow and thoroughly. He swallowed, cock twitching as his thighs tensed.

"Not yet. Fuck, not yet." He breathed, looking down at you.

Leon nearly did lose himself when he watched you crane your neck to lick at his tip, collecting the bead of salty precum that slipped out. He shivered with a breathy moan, hips bucking with a little more urgency.

"We have to do this again. Please, tell me I can do this again." He hissed, eyes rolling back. He hadn't found something this exciting in a while, as far as sex. Everything was exciting with you, but not like getting to put his dick between your tits and fuck them like there was no tomorrow, and he couldn't wait to paint your pretty tits with the thick, white ropes of cum that he'd usually waste in a condom or, if he was lucky, he'd get to watch his seed spill out of your pussy, a sight he thought could never be topped in the bedroom.

"Mhmm, we can do it all you want, baby." You purred, leaning in closer as his hips faltered momentarily.

"Shit—fuck, sweetheart, 'm gonna cum!" He groaned, and merely seconds later, he did. You opened your mouth to catch some of it while the rest painted your chest and lips. You worked him through it, letting every drop spill weakly from his length even as he started twitching from overstimulation.

You pulled off, his hands falling away as he fell back onto the bed, panting with his body limp. You crawled over him, straddling his hips and leaning in to kiss him softly. "Had fun?" You giggled.

"So much, gorgeous." He huffed, lazily accepting the kiss, which offered him a faint taste of his own seed. The kiss deepened for only a moment before you pulled back and sat upright.

"Round two in the shower?" You grinned.

"Don't even gotta ask." He was up and moving in the blink of an eye, carrying you into the bathroom.

Valko's felt your eyes on him ever since he stepped out of the shower. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, and in all honesty he can't blame you when he does the same to you. But it felt... different somehow.

Maybe it's nothing.

He grabs a shirt from the closet and fluffs it open. He's lifting it to pull it over his head when-

"Nonono! Wait! Don't!"

He stops sharply, looking at you with wide eyes, head already through the neckhole. You climb up onto your knees on the bed, all focus set on him, and gesture him over. He's even more confused now.

"Why can't I get dressed?" he asks, head tilting. Is this some sort of game he's not aware of? A prank in the making? Still, he walks over, pulling his shirt back over his head.

The moment he's within reach, your hands grab his chest. He looks down, watching you feel his pecs, squeezing them. The plush fat squishes and jiggles, pliable in your grasp. You play with them for a bit, just smiling to yourself.

"Can I suck on them?"

His bark of laughter comes out like a punch to the gut. "What?!"

"Can I suck on them!" you repeat, more enthusiastic. As if to emphasize your point, you lean forward to plant innocent kisses to his chest.

He laughs, chest shaking as a result, and nods. "Sure, pup. You can bite them, too."

Your eyes light up. You look like a child set loose in a candy store with all the money in the world to spend. "Really?!"

He nods. "Sure."

You don't ask a second time. He yelps as you bite hard at the softest point, growling like a dog with a toy as you playfully shake your head to make sure the mark lasts.

Headcannons:

Nervous. She was nervous as hell. She wasn’t sure how his family would react to her, especially his grandmother who she was told was dead set on the wolf traditions.

She was absolutely scared about what his aunt would say about her, having learned she is also just like his grandmother in terms of wolf laws.

His cousins seemed pretty chill from what she learned about them and was really happy about what they would think of her. 

The drive to the forest was tense for her, but she calmed when Valko’s hand rested on her thigh, giving it a gentle and reassuring squeeze. 

“I won’t leave you no matter what they say. You are mine, and mine alone. My mate.”

Those words seemed to give her a brighter outlook but she was still nervous as hell. 

The moment his old home came into view, his tail and ears popped out and his eyes flashed with that same familiar happiness she saw when he claimed her as his mate all those years ago. 

Being as shy as she was, when the car stopped, he bolted out of the car to see his family while she stayed there for a moment, pulling out the food, and camping equipment that they had packed. 

One of his cousins, a taller grey wolf, came over to her, sniffing her out curiously before going to hybrid form and giving her a wide grin. He helps her get all the gear she can’t lift out and brings it over while Valko is still prancing around with the rest or the smaller cousins. 

Of course, while she is setting everything else up, she can feel the grandmother’s and the aunt’s eyes on her back and it makes her slightly nervous. She has no clue what the two are thinking and it unnerves her greatly. 

Valko can see the nervousness seeping off her in waves and is immediately at her side, hand on her lower back as he watches her get everything ready and helps when needed. 

He knows that his aunt and grandma can be overbearing sometimes and he vows to stay by her side as long as he can to keep his aunt and grandma from coming over and saying anything to make his mate uncomfortable. 

Valko was definitely not expecting his aunt and grandma to warm up to her almost on the instant on the account of all the other times he's brought over his girlfriends from past relationships and his aunt and grandma refusing to even speak to them, but with her, they are chatting away with her now. 

He will stand there and watch as his grandmother compliments y/n like it's the most natural thing in the world. Or how his aunt praises her for being able to stay with Valko for as long as Y/n has.

When Y/n was really comfortable with them, the cousins began telling embarrassing stories of Valko. Two of the stories were the time he nearly tripped over himself trying to get a rabbit, and the second time was how he tried to impress someone and totally biffed his words. 

Y/n was laughing along with the others while Valko was bright red and embarrassed, but the smile on his face could only be seen as happiness.

Her shyness seemed to disappear while she was with his family. Valko could see that and it warmed his heart that his family was able to bring her shyness down and her happiness up. 

When Valko and his cousins were packing up all the things Y/n and Valko had brought for the night and the drive back home, Valko’s grandmother and aunt came over to her.

The grandmother held out an amulet that their pack had for years and years. “Here child, you make our Valko so happy, and we wanted to bless your relationship with prosperity and happiness.” The grandmother’s words make your heart swell.

The drive home was silent for a bit. She traced the amulet with her fingers, honored and happy to have been acknowledged by Valko’s family. Valko could sense that happiness and it made his heart soar to know that his family loved and accepted Y/n. “I’m proud of you baby. You are normally really shy around new people but you warmed up to my family rather fast.” He says, taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers together. “They really loved you today baby.” He whispers, rubbing her knuckles. She smiles and squeezes his hand. 

“It was thanks to you being there too. I’m not sure I would have gotten comfortable doing what I did tonight if you hadn’t been there.” She says, bringing his hand to her chest. “I’m so lucky to have you Valko. I don’t think I could ever find someone else as sweet, and amazing as you are. You literally do everything to make me comfortable when you are so much more outgoing than I am.” She says, looking at Valko with hearts nearly forming in her eyes. “Thank you for choosing me…I don’t know what I would be doing if you hadn’t.” She says. Valko grinned, his sharp canines peaking out of his mouth.

“I would do anything for you, my love. I would move the mountains or the moon if you asked me too.” He says, squeezing her hand. She smiles brightly at his words. “I love you Valko. So much you don’t even understand.” She says. Valko’s grin becomes a soft smile. “I think I can take a guess.” he whispers as he parks the car in the driveway and turns to face her. His hand reaches to her face, holding her face like the most precious gem. His thumb rubbing her cheekbone. After a moment, he leans forward and pressing his lips to hers. Kissing her so gently it makes her hum and move closer to him.

The forest is surprisingly comfortable.

You didn't expect it, given how your own experiences with the wilderness have been limited to missions and wanderer-hunting, with very little time to appreciate the beauty of nature when you're fighting for your life.

But it is… Beautiful.

Deep, viridian-covered branches tangle together high above your head and form a dense canopy, letting through only a smattering of sunlight, much like stars dotting a night sky. Somewhere off to your right, a family of birds sink to each other. You can't help but wonder what they're saying as you breathe in deep lungfuls of air so clean you could cry. And beneath your back, the floor is soft. Not mattress-soft or brushed-cotton-soft. But spongey and forgiving, a bed of leaves cushioning your spine like one would cradle a babe.

You wonder if Valko picked this spot on purpose. If he knows every square inch of this forest and decided to fuck you here. Where the earth feels kind. Where your noises tangle together until they become part of the forest's symphony, indistinguishable from the crying animal you can hear in the distance, or the gentle thrush of dancing branches. Valko called the forest "his" when he found you. Not his home, not his territory... Just his. As though everything from the dirt in the cracks of your shoes to the skyward-reaching boughs were drawn forth from his very being.

You wonder, too, if any part of the forest could be yours. If you ask, would he let you own a part of him? A tree to name as though a person, a free-flying bird to clutch in your palm, a patch of bright flowers to doze in.

A fool's dream.

Because, while only a matter of days has passed since your first meeting, you've been reliving the memory of it in horror, when caught on the brink of wakefulness and sleep. The feeling of his large body giving way to you and hitting the dusty ground, supine. You—triumphant in every way, straddled atop him like an animal.

Then, worse.

Much worse.

Valko's face beside yours. The agonisingly pleasant drag of his nose behind your ear. A deep inhale—guttered like a candle flame, followed by a disbelieving, "Your scent..."—entirely impossible to forget. The whole interaction set your head spinning. So wrongly intimate in the middle of a battlefield, his every touch melting down into reverence where he held you against him. And each time you recall the memory, your reaction is different.

One time, you push him away as soon as his hold tightens, scrambling to your feet, features marred with disgust.

Another, you grab the burgundy hair at his nape and smash your mouth into his.

Only this morning, did you press the barrel of your pistol against his temple and threaten to pull the trigger.

In reality, however, you didn't fight back. You didn't reciprocate, either. You merely just let him touch you, smell you, hold you like a lover and not an enemy he'd met all of ten minutes prior.

Shame rushes to meet you as though the dam of your resistance has finally crumbled. Because here you are—beneath Valko. Drawn in by his claims of "fated mates" and big, puppy dog eyes. On another mission entirely, yet you were hunted down within minutes of your arrival in his territory.

You tried to resist.

Sort of.

But deep inside you, there was a pull. A string tied around your heart. Pulled just enough to make you take a step forward towards him. Another. And another. Until you were grabbing desperately at his stupid, big shoulders and kissing him with a ferocity that surprised even you—as though you hadn't taken a breath since you left him, and the meeting of your lips was akin to surfacing from deep water. Valko handled you easily, didn't bat an eyelid at the familiar way you fell into him, and used all that irritating strength of his to swoop you up and bring you here.

Though where here is exactly, you wouldn't be able to say.

"You're such a big brute," you pant, a palm thumping at his shoulder blade like your anxious, horny energy has no other outlet but violence.

Sweat drips onto your cheek in lieu of a comeback. You flinch, grimacing, and then flinch again when you feel the sudden rush of arousal accompanying it. There's nothing sexy about an idiot who can't decide whether he wants to be a man or a wolf, and definitely nothing about the aforementioned idiot sweating all over you.

Valko drags his nose up. Sniffs behind your ear. Groans and thrusts into you deeper. "You smell so good, pup."

You groan, too, decidedly more annoyed than Valko. "Don't call me that! You're not even listening!"

"I am," he says, clearly distracted by the way you clench around him a second later. "Fuck... What are you doing to me?"

"I'm not doing—" You toss your head back onto the soft ground when he tilts his hips, hitting your g-spot with frightening accuracy. "—haaah-anything! You stupid dog!"

Valk's mouth dips immediately down into the cavern of your throat, tongue licking wet and hot up the rungs of your trachea. Your stomach swoops when you feel a faint scratch—almost like those canines of his are teasing your skin, sharp and gleaming, and able to tear your throat out in an instant.

"Wolf," he growls lowly.

"Whatever." Venom seeps back into your voice. You feel humiliated to have given in as easily as you did. Even more so at how capable Valko is of fucking any sane thought from your brain. "I don't think wolves are supposed to fuck humans."

Valko lets out a sharp rumble from deep in his chest. You can feel it reverberate straight through you, plastered to him as vines crawling up a dawn redwood would be.

"Pretty sure it's a— ngh! Violation of some animal welfare law."

"Werewolf," Valko corrects a heartbeat later, the point of an ear flicking against your chin.

You brace yourself when you feel another brush of pointy teeth, ready for them to sink into your flesh like a meal, overdue and mouthwatering. There would be no fight. None that you would win, anyhow.

Dragging a large, overheated palm down your flank, Valko slips it beneath your lower back. You have barely a second to guess at what he's attempting before you're unceremoniously lifted, hips inches from the ground, suspended there while he ruts into you. You gasp at the new angle, at the humiliating stretch of his thick cock pounding into your dripping cunt. A boot-covered foot lands on the back of his thigh. You can't help but hold on for dear life, even as your head swims with mortification.

You never do this—fuck someone you barely know.

A gasp. Eyelids fluttering as he strokes deep inside you. A big, shaggy tail thumping your shin rhythmically.

Is it always this good?

"You were looking for me," Valko murmurs into your sweaty neck.

Startled, you grab his shoulders and push. Valko lifts his head obediently. But, and here's the real kicker, he's fucking huge. Broad shoulders that cover half your vision when you tip your head down to stare at him incredulously. Thick, wide torso pinning you to the ground. You almost lose your nerve. But then he's panting in your face, breath hitting hot against your lips, and you have to say something, anything, or you'll end up kissing him again.

"No, I wasn't! I'm supposed to be—" a strangled moan "—on a mission. Finding a wanderer! Not..."

The end of your sentence eludes your fuzzy brain, as does any thought besides how Valko's stroke game might actually kill you.

Valko shakes his head, veering closer. You go cross-eyed. He bumps his forehead into yours, and the new point of contact is another fraying thread of your sanity, one more layering of molten arousal settling over your body like a suffocating fire blanket. You half-wonder if Valko has some special werewolf vision when he stares at you intently enough to frighten—if his vision isn't blurred like yours. If you look as stupidly fucked out as you feel right now, also.

Slowing his hips into a deep, torturous roll, he knocks his nose into yours playfully.

"Not you," he emphasises, and you feel his lips brush yours. A feather's kiss. Then, another hand—the one not hiking your hips incrementally higher by the second—slips beneath your nape, big fingers cupping the back of your head, a thumb stroking over the corner of your jaw. You almost moan, still baffled at his size. At the easy way he's moving you, and the sheer span of his hands, his shoulders, his hips. You swallow the incriminating noise instead. "Your soul. I could feel it, pup. Howling at me. Haah— Asking me to find you."

You exhale shakily. "You're crazy."

"Not crazy," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours firmer. He repeats himself, hushed yet solemn, "Not crazy."

You swallow the stone trapped in your throat. Feel it sink into your stomach with a final, echoing thump.

"I felt you. Different from how I feel you now."

Your lips part around a question before your brain has a chance to catch up. "What did you feel?"

"Hunger," comes Valko's immediate reply, as though he doesn't even have to think about it. As though he's telling the truth. "Loneliness. Hope. Confusion. Everything." Valko's voice drops into a raw note, like he's being flayed further open by each word he chooses to share, but he couldn't bear to keep them to himself despite it. "All of it."

You gasp, back arching up into the wall of his chest. Valko's fingertips dig into your lower back, and he pulls you up into him further, like it won't be enough until you climb inside his skin.

"Your soul was the deepest silence and the most beautiful song I've heard in my life."

Tears prick at your eyes, and your vitriol vanishes with enough pace to leave you breathless. The string tied around your heart pulls taut, lurching up into your throat. Valko knows. He must do. Because the corner of his eyes softens, solid gold melting into liquid, and he regards you so fondly that you feel pinned under the weight of his veneration, despite Valko knowing only your nasty words and the unfaltering pressure of your limbs.

"There is a forest inside you," Valko says, awed, big ears turning towards your expression as though able to hear its idiosyncrasies.

Arousal and some unidentified emotion—heavy and foundational and undeniably trusting—fight for control, welling up inside your chest until they crush your every heaving breath. Valko slows his hips until he's only grinding deep inside you, pubis pressing against your clit in a way that sends a frisson of heat dancing up your spine.

"Valko," you whimper, voice breaking from his words or the intimate grind of his cock, you have no idea.

Palm sliding from your nape to the side of your neck, Valko's thumb drags adoringly along your jaw until it finds its home— right below the softness of your bottom lip. He pulls it down slightly, and your mouth parts without thought.

Valko pours his words into its cavernous reaches, "I can hear it now."

Every inch of you is matted with sweat. Valko runs hot. So hot you're losing your mind, wrapped in his balmy embrace, being fucked by his big cock, spoken to in a tone so sweet and so low your heart fractures and remakes itself into newness.

"Your soul stretched out and sank its claws deep into my flesh from the very first moment we met, little hunter. I didn't have a choice. I had to find you again." His eyes flutter closed, pained. "I had to."

You whimper again—an open, vulnerable noise crawling up from the base of your throat entirely unfamiliar to you. You've never made a noise like this before. But now you can't stop. More follow. Tiny, wounded things that only make Valko clutch you tighter, roll his hips deeper. In turn, only deepening your delirium—until you're more animal than human. Until your nails are sinking deep into his shoulders and your mouth is finding his once more, darkness engulfing you.

Hissing at the prick of pain, Valko reciprocates without hesitation, and within seconds, it dissolves into a contented, humming moan. Valko tilts his head and licks into your mouth like he's tasting what you ate for breakfast, tongue flicking along the flat rows of your teeth. His mouth opens further, coaxing yours to mirror him, and he releases this breathy sound of astonishment into you.

"Sw't," he says, muffled against your lips—backing away barely enough for the syllables to be heard before he's meeting you again, like two souls clashing in an open field. You keen, loud, and your hips jerk in place when he nips at you, light and teasing and familiar. You're rewarded with a laugh. This time, he does part from you, but not before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Sweet, sweet thing."

"Shut up," you mumble quietly, all the fight drained out of you.

"You're trouble, though. I can tell." The corner of Valko's eyes crinkles. "Seen plenty of it before."

You try to grumble, but his big hand hikes your hips higher, and he's everywhere—outside you, inside you—and you can do nothing but take what he's giving you with the faint notion that you're not going to be able to live without this—him—once it's over. That he's changing your fundamentals, cock driving deep inside you and rearranging what you once were.

"'m not trouble-nghhh!" you retort, gasping around the word 'trouble' when he pulls his hips back and slams into you, punishingly hard despite the tender hold he has on you, as though you could be blown over by a gust of wind and shattered in the middle of this forest.

"I got you, little hunter, I got you."

"Valko, ohmygod, there!"

"Here?" he asks, hammering into the spot that's making you see stars, or maybe that's just the canopy light flashing in your wet vision.

"Yesyesyes," you chant, chest heaving.

"So pretty."

You barely hear it. Blood roaring in your ears, brain a soupy mess. There's not much of anything left but the feeling of his thick cock carving a home for himself into your cunt, wet noises echoing above the din of the forest.

"My mate."

Your whole body shudders. No way. Not this again. You can't be. You're many, many things: wrong and volatile and above all—human.

"Ma-ah! Mate?"

Valko nods, coming to nose under your jaw.

"No! No, Valko, I'm not— I'm…"

"Mine."

"Human!"

"Mine."

"Valko, please," you whine, tears filling your eyes. "I'm not who you're looking for. I'm not! You don't know me. You don't want me. Not past today—not for the rest of your life."

A mean thrust. The tears spill.

"This is just instincts," you argue weakly. "Your stupid werewolf wires crossing and—"

"We are all just instincts," Valko cuts in, not unkindly. Not condescendingly. Just stating it like the simple, breathless fact it supposedly is before dipping down to kiss you again. You clench around Valko so hard his tail thwacks the thigh you have hooked around his waist.

Traitorously, your brain whispers: What were you driven by when you first kissed Valko, if not your instincts?

"V'lk'," you speak, muffled against his mouth.

You're ignored. But you have bigger issues, namely, how the heat is eating you alive. So imposing it's a physical weight, melting you into Valko's hold—and it all seems to be emanating out from where you're joined. An orgasm creeping up on your heels, molten fire right behind it—waiting to engulf you for good. You can barely move your hips to meet his quick thrusts, settling for half-heartedly twitching as he pounds into you. Held up by nothing but his strength alone, what feels like it could be miles from the soft forest bed.

Licking into your mouth, Valko doesn't hear you. Not until you slide a hand to the front of his shoulder and push once more. He doesn't budge an inch, but you get his attention. He leans back to peer at you—all big, round eyes and flushed face, sweat beading along his temple—and yet somehow, he looks more composed than you feel. At once, self-consciousness rises like a tide.

"You're confused," you blurt anyway, forcing the emotion away.

Valko smiles, a gentle curve utterly undoing. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

And that…

It unmakes you. Strips back those petal-shaped layers you've been clutching as though they were impenetrable armour. Bares you to the forest, to him, to yourself. Effortlessly. So unassuming that you didn't notice, not until you're lying there—an open, gaping wound.

Sinking lower, Valko's voice is a smooth stone drifting from the mouth of a river into open ocean. "My mate."

"Yours," you breathe quietly, as though a tone too loud will wash away its meaning. As though it's a secret to be guarded between you, Valko, and the forest.

Valko's expression flies through a myriad of colours in an instant. Then, your pussy flutters around his cock and his face lands on hunger. Bending down, he brushes his nose on your temple again, slides his chest against yours—rubbing skin in a way that, to you, seems to have no aim but contact. He presses his nose into your hair and breathes in deeply.

"You smell like me."

Valko's thick cock splits you open, and your hips are held so high your legs kick in the air.

You suck in a heaving breath, see-sawing between the syrupy mess of your thoughts and the heat consuming you. "W-what?"

Brushing his temple against yours, he laughs. Though the sound is thin and strained. "Nothing."

You want to chase it up, to push him, truly you do. But then, he's anchoring a forearm on the ground by your head and using it as leverage to fuck into you even harder, each snap of his hips sending pleasure skittering up your spine. Your toes curl against his thighs, and the heat becomes a roaring inferno.

"Valko," you whimper again.

The man drags his nose back across your cheek, brushes it against yours. Leans back to catch your lidded gaze. You stare up at him blearily, at the way he's your entire field of vision. Blown-out pupils drink you in as he asks, "What is it, pup?"

You seize up at the nickname this time—muscles locking and breath stalling in your chest like the moment existing before a vacuum consumes everything the next—and cum. Silent for the briefest of moments before your voice crawls up your throat, ruined. A string of keening gasps, underlined with these scratchy moans from deep in your chest. Your fingernails dig into Valko's shoulders, desperate for a moor.

Yet, he doesn't stop.

Fucks you through it with a surprising ferocity, even as his hips begin to stutter.

"So sweet," he moans, staring down at you, face the same colour as his hair. His ears twitch madly atop his head, like he can't decide which sounds of yours to focus on—your tiny, gasping whimpers or the wet shtick of his cock pounding your pussy. "All for me."

Your orgasm feels as though it's dragging you down into its depths, your pleasure turning high and painful, though no less mind-numbing. You cry out when Valko's cock brushes against your G-spot so soon, and then cry again when Valko decides to repeat the action.

You slide a hand up his nape, panicked, nails dragging harsh lines. "Valko, ah— wait—"

Valko's hips snap into you reflexively.

"Ohmygod," he whines. Whines. Like he's not the big bad leader of the werewolf clan. As though he's not the one fucking you to tears.

You freeze at the sound.

"Please," he gasps out. "Again."

Then, you watch from a body that's not your own as you obey, orgasm still lapping at your core. Your other hand drags sharp lines along his muscled shoulder and up into his nape, through the soft, cropped mess of his hair. Pain-pleasure frisks your skin. Valko buries his head in the hollow of your throat, and you can feel him panting there, open-mouthed.

"Again."

You want to tease. To find your words and call him bossy, demanding and stupid. All traits that should never be endearing and yet here you are, unequivocally endeared. Instead, you splay your finger tips wide across the back of his skull—thumbs tucked behind his human ears—and drag your nails along his scalp, up to his crown.

Valko shudders as though abruptly caught in a winter breeze.

"Haah—"

Your fingertip strokes up the back of a wolf-ear, the fur silky soft beneath your touch. You can feel it twitching in response. A thumb rises to join it, pressing up the warm, fleshy inside.

"Pup, I'm-nghhh—"

Meanwhile, your free hand moves curiously around the base of his other wolf ear, gauging where the human ends and the werewolf begins. You press a finger firmly to the divide, and pet it back and forth.

Both ears flick as though to brush away your fingers, before pinning back against his head right as he pants out, "Closeclose—"

Valko hunches over you, sharp teeth nipping at your neck. You jump. Instinctively ducking your head to protect your neck. Whining again, Valko makes a wounded sound as though denied—though denied what, you don't have the brain capacity to work out. You tip your head further back on instinct. Valko groans, half-fearful, and he stops fucking you abruptly.

You take the chance to catch your breath.

"Don't—" Valko, panic-stricken.

A graze of teeth.

In your gut, you know you shouldn't fight him—so you don't. You surrender yourself, forcefully relaxing your body. Both hands tangled in his soft hair and around his spasming ears like they're sacred. You let out a low whine from the base of your throat, and Valko punches out a wounded whine of his own, perfectly dizzying.

"Valko, please," you gasp, not even sure what you're begging for at this point.

"I can't— ohfuck—"

You're immediately distracted by a weird sensation. Fullness. A pleasant stretch edging into slightly painful.

"Valko, what is—"

His hips start into a shallow grind, keeping his entire cock inside you. You glance up to see his ears flick back again, flat to his skull.

"'m sorry, 'm sorry–"

Your pussy is forced wider around Valko's cock. Something swelling—inflating—inside you, a sensation so jarring you scrabble at his hair as pure alarm lances your heart. You try to draw your hips back, but the hand beneath your lower back keeps you where you are, despite the apologies he continues to murmur against your neck.

"Sorry, pup, 'm sorry, 'm sor—"

"Ow, ow— Valko— it hurts," you protest, staring up into the canopy. Then, you angle your head down uselessly to try to catch his gaze.

"I didn't mean to, you just smell so… and you're acting like… like that. And you don't even know what it's doing to me," he replies, tight and panicked.

"Valko!" You thump at his back, nervous in equal measure at his tone.

"You have to—" he grunts when you clench around him, "—relax."

Your voice climbs higher. "Relax?!"

"Jesus, pup, please. Stop squeezing me."

"I can't," you cry, tears welling up again as Valko's dick keeps inflating. You're going to be split open, sharp heat will slice you in two. Your back arches up into him. "Ahhh— fuck, Valko!"

Valko lets out a devastated gasp. His head tips to the side until his cheek rests on your shoulder, hot breath panting across the front of your throat.

"What is happening?!"

Your hunter's watch didn't say anything about stupid werewolf dick having the ability to enlarge at will.

"'s my-haah— my knot."

Valko slides his hips forward, forcing your pussy to stretch wider around him. You make a hysterical sound.

"What does that even mean?!"

"I can't… can't think."

Your voice runs ragged. "Not helpful!"

"I mnnn-know!"

You kick the back of his thigh and whimper as the movement causes him to shift deeper. His tail falls still, a strip of warmth across your leg.

"Stop-ah— moving."

"Pull out!"

Valko grunts.

"Valko, pull out!"

"Pup, I can't," he argues, strained.

"What do you mean you can't, bastard? Pull! Out!"

Valko lets out a low, disgruntled sound. Before holding you carefully and drawing his hips back, so slowly you swear he's actively trying to piss you off further. Then, you feel it. A sore stretch returns, until it dips into sheer, mind-numbing pain so fast you yelp, sucking in a wet breath and attempting to draw your legs towards your body, despite the hulking man spreading you open. Valko stills immediately, slipping back into your heat with a moan of pure relief. You echo it as the pain subsides and the size of Valko becomes more manageable again.

"See?" he asks lowly.

You nod dazedly, still catching your breath. You're starting to adjust, but the stretch still burns something fiery, even as pleasure begins to lick at the wound.

"What the fuck…" you mumble to yourself.

You clench around him, testing, and Valko groans. You do, too, when the pain flares again, a sweeping wave of arousal following close behind.

Then, a strike of clarity: "You still haven't cum."

You feel unsettled at the notion, deeply so.

"Working on it," Valko huffs, voice rough.

"Don't sound too excited."

"Are you always this mouthy?" A beat of silence, then an agitated twitch of a wolf ear. "Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

You roll your eyes but soften your voice.

"There's no one to tell you about," you admit.

Valko stills. "Pup…"

"What?" you snap, immediately falling back on the defensive.

Valko moans again, for no discernible reason. Sighing irritably, you thump your head back onto the ground, only for Valko to make another heated noise into your neck. You bristle at not understanding what's even setting him off.

"Seriously! What's wrong with you?"

Valko sighs. Shifts his hips. Exhales at the hitch in your breath. "I like a bit of a fight in my prey."

"Fuck off," you respond.

"Yeah," he laughs, undeniably fond, which is objectively crazy. You've known this man for a matter of days. An hour, if you count the time you've actually spent in his company. You grip his hair tighter and listen to his laughter peter out. "There you are."

Valko rocks his hips once, testing, and when you do no more than punch out a tiny exhale, he does it again. And again. Rocking into your tight heat just enough to drive you insane. Just enough to drive him insane if his noises are anything to go by, too. These pained, throaty whines, tangled in gasps, serve only to set your nerves alight. For someone so big and imposing, the muted desperation in his voice is enough to have your hips twitching again.

"God, you feel so—"

You clench around him and he rewards you for it, a drawn-out whine echoing in the quiet of the forest.

"Pup— 'm gonna—"

Valko fucks inside you once, twice, bares his teeth to the softness of your neck. You drag your nails down his scalp and wrap your fingers around his nape, thumbs brushing the corner of his jaw.

"—closecloseclose—"

You lift his face and press your lips together. All it takes is a comforting whine, a melding of the words you cannot find into baseless sound, and Valko is cumming. Pouring his heat into your mouth, your cunt, warm spurts of cum filling you up.

There's no wrongness to be found.

No gut feeling to swoop your high away. Only a deep-seated satisfaction that you're safe, cared for. That right now, nothing could matter more than the man trapped inside you. You part your lips wider and lick into his mouth, happily swallowing his flustered sounds as he rides out his orgasm—hips twitching abortedly into your heat.

Peaceful, you would call it, despite how laughable the notion is—being split open on a werewolf's cock and finding the peace you've been searching for your entire life.

Then, he slumps atop you, deadweight. Head dropping into the ground above your shoulder as he lowers your body, none-too-gently, back down to the forest floor.

"Oof— Valko, I can't— breathe," you wheeze when the weight of him settles over you like an anvil, palms slapping his back uselessly.

He grunts, an ear-flick indicating that he hears you. But he doesn't move.

"Valko!"

A sigh—long-suffering, which you don't quite understand when he's only had to suffer through your presence all of a whopping hour since you met him.

Tucking a hand above your ass to keep his cock lodged inside you, Valko rolls onto his back with little fanfare. You make a startled noise and prop yourself up before you can crush him, wincing at the burn of arousal making itself known. You would let him fuck you again if he wanted. You refuse to say as much, though.

Valko whines in discontent, and a big arm wraps around your waist to coax you downwards. You settle without a fuss, pressing a cheek into the hollow of his throat.

"Good," he mumbles quietly, a big hand petting down the length of your spine.

Shivers break out across your skin at the sensation, and you melt into a languid mess atop his chest between one heartbeat and the next. You don't know why. There's no reasonable explanation for the serenity being housed in your ribs, but it is there all the same.

You shift slightly before finding your voice.

"I don't think my landlord allows wolves," you say quietly, a fingertip tracing inane patterns on his chest.

Valko laughs, the slow rise and fall of his chest becoming an earthquake beneath your touch.

"I promise they won't even know I'm there," he eventually says, with only the lingering traces of amusement to be found in his voice. A palm squeezes your nape.

You scoff, disbelieving. While the forest was convenient for his little werewolf fuckfest, you're not confident your apartment is insulated for such endeavours. Valko crowds you tighter, like he senses your thoughts and is offended by them.

A heartbeat later: "How long are we stuck like this for?"

Valko hums, thinking. Gives a small shrug. Leans forward to inhale a deep lungful of you behind your ear before replying, "About thirty minutes."

You try to sit up. "Thirty minutes?!"

Pressing you back down easily, Valko doesn't even bother opening his eyes. "Gotta wait for it to take."

In all fairness, you don't put up much of a fight.

"For it to…?" you mouth silently, eyebrows furrowed.

Then, a lightbulb.

Oh.

Oh.

Arousal rushes to meet you with all the force of a brick wall going g-force, and you wrinkle your nose, feigning nonchalance despite the waver which threatens your credibility. Werewolves can't smell emotions, right? "You're disgusting."

Valko laughs, and you shake with it. "Whatever you say, pup."

Lying back on his chest, you bite the inside of your cheek and let your mind drift.

Do humans feel it too? you wonder. Their fated mate?

But the answer is painfully clear—past those layers, stripped back by Valko with all the ease of a scythe slicing through reeds, and past the unfettering drum of your pulse.

Your heart belongs to Valko.

And maybe it always has. Long, long before the world decided it was time for the two of you to meet. So, you bury your head deeper underneath Valko's chin, slotting into him like a missing puzzle piece, and exist within the forest's song.

Together, at last.

‹‹ MASTERLIST

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“Ohgod—! Valko —mmhp. . I- I need a break!” You hiccup out through loud wails and breathless moans, shivering and trembling widely from the overwhelming pleasure Valko has bringing for hours after hours. 

Your voice is completely battered and high pitched from how much you’ve been screaming in ecstasy every time Valko forces his thick cock into your drooling hole, pushing you over the edge over and over until he’s reduced you into a babbling mess. Godd. . how long has it been since your boyfriend trapped you on the bed?

Keeping you immobilized in the meanest mating press, rough hands splayed on the underside of your soft thighs— forcing your thighs to stay glued to your plump chest.  

“G- god. . you feel sooo good ‘round me—! This pussy is just so —nghh, t- tight ‘n. . hckk— wet” Valko stutters out, shameless with his words. 

“Needa’ f- fill you up —fuckk! wanna’ -haaah ohfuck, wa- wanna fill you up till your dripping m- my cum out, baby” he pants out between groans of your name and breathless whimpers, his terry digging into his bottom lip till scarlet trickles from the small punctures. 

With a broken, whiney voice, you loudly squeal out his name— tears trickling down your flushed cheek as fresh tears waters in your glossy eyes. When he leans down to be closer to your exhausted body, the angle only has his thick cock sinking even deeper into your creamy pussy. . eliciting a sweet wail, your body uselessly writhing. That hungry mouth of Valko’s finds itself suckling on the exposed and sensitive skin of your neck, tongue dragging along your sweaty skin. 

With each push of his hips, thick cock plunging deep into your raw and swollen velvety walls, his thick cum pours down the delightful curve of your ass. . staining the messy fabric below. Needily, Valko suckles the skin of your neck aggressively, a wet pop filling the room when he pulls away to admire the pretty mark he left. Your flavor; sweet, inviting, and addictive lingers on his tongue, cock bobbing in your gooey, white- covered walls.

“N- noo — mmhp! ne- need more of this sweet, baby!” Valko whines out pathetically, his grip tightening on your poor thighs— surely there will be a bruise on your tender flesh. 

The thickened knot at the base of his cock pulses widely, kissing at your swollen pussy lips with every mean thrust. 

“Valko—!” You gasp out, shivering violently when his lips find your sweet spot on your neck, submitting to his own instincts. . those sharp canines of his drag along your poor skin until you conceive his mark.

Your velvet walls convulse and squeeze so tightly around his cock, a lewd squeal torn from you when your pussy erotically sprays your juices on Valko’s abdomen. He tears a whiney shriek from you when one of his hands slides from your thighs to rub firmly and roughly at your swollen clit— groaning in pure delight when more jets of your juices sprays from your over sensitive cunt.

“Nnngh—. . ohfuckk! H- haah, ca- can’t take it! Too much—!” You moan out, throwing your head against the pillow, hair sprawled out. 

“C’monn, le- lef me —nghh fuckfuckfuck. . fill you with my pups, baby” He groans out in a primal tone, cock twitching and drooling thick beads of precum in your walls.

He’s soo close, knot throbbing painfully as it begs to be buried deep in your creamy pussy. You barely manage to arch your back, shouting out his and when your cunt is stretched out by the thick swell of his knot. Valko whines, drool seeping from his lips to drip on your neck as his knot slowly and slowly spreads your hole wider to accommodate the extra stretch. 

It slips in with an obscure and loud squealchh, eliciting loud moans from both of you as it just presses deeper and deeper into your poor pussy. Valko opens his mouth wide, groaning as he bites at your neck, sharp teeth piercing into your until blood seeps from the small punctures. . his tongue smoothing the aching area— you let out an ear piercing scream, sobbing as you feel his wet tongue smearing against your sensitive skin.

“Haaah—! Ohfuckfuckfuck! V- Valko. . hckk” You wail out, a new batch of fat tears pouring from your glossy eye as your hole lewdly slurps his knot until it is seated deep in your cunt.

“Ju- just like thatt. . nnghh— y- you take me soo well—!” Valko whines out, closing his eyes tightly, shoving his nose into your hair to sniff up your delicious scent while his tail wags fastly. 

Valko’s balls twitch and tighten as thick ropes of his cum shoot deep into your spasming hole— your belly bloated from how much he’s been filling you up. Your pussy throbs and aches, a small ring of cum forming around his base, his balls throbbing against your ass as his cock throbs. . shooting more and more cum into your sloppy hole. And with his knot stuck and plunging your cunt, your trembling and whining from the fullness— not knowing what to do with yourself.  

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