🆂🅷🅴🅻🅻🆉

His first and perhaps biggest regret was leaving the hotel room before you to meet with a regional director before the conference began. He hadn't been able to see the outfit you'd brought along for the day: a tight little pencil skirt, a few centimeters too short to really be considered workplace appropriate, paired with a silk blouse that clung to you in all the right ways, tucked neatly into it. Your black heels and the white lab coat, worn open over everything, completed the look. It was a little stereotypical, really, almost evoking a costume, which was exactly the point. You knew adopting a character was the fastest way of getting under Zayne's skin.

You met him at the conference hall, the look in his eyes as he took you in making your heart leap into your throat. You could almost see him adding a tally to the mental score he kept whenever you tried to rile him up.

Later, you only made the score climb faster. Squirming in your seat just enough to press your thigh against his. Crossing and uncrossing your legs slowly enough that he'd be forced to look down and notice. Resting your hand on his thigh just so. Dropping your pen so you could bend down to pick it back up where he'd have the best view. A clench of his jaw or a slow exhale through his nose was the only outward acknowledgement he'd given you, but you didn't need him to react outwardly for you to know you'd had an effect on him.

As the session adjourned for the last break of the day, you were almost disappointed that he hadn't seemed interested in retaliating. You shuffled to the elevator along with the rest of the attendees heading for the lobby when you were struck with a devious idea.

As you squeezed to the back of the elevator, you took Zayne's hand in yours, blocking his immediate reflex to intertwine your fingers. He glanced at you curiously before you led his hand up your thigh and under your skirt to cup you through your panties.

His attention snapped immediately back to the front. The security camera above the button panel caught his eye, and one corner of his lips lifted by a few millimeters. You'd expected him to take his hand back, but he didn't. Instead, he slowly slid his middle finger along your crease, reaching back to the source of the dampness. As the elevator neared the ground floor, he pressed gently against the fabric, the dampness spreading as your panties dipped slightly into your core.

You bit your lip to stop an audible reaction from slipping out, beginning to realize you'd passed his tipping point today as he continued to circle agonizingly slowly over the divot he created when he pressed his finger against you.

The elevator dinged, and everyone began to shuffle out. As the person in front of you moved away, you started to make your escape, but you heard a soft tsk near your ear as Zayne slid his other arm around your waist and pulled you back, pressing your ass against him so you could feel exactly the effect you'd had on him.

Then he released you, pulling his hand away from between your thighs. You watched as he reached for the small bottle of hand sanitizer he always kept in his coat pocket, applying some to his hands. You let out a small, disappointed huff that he didn't acknowledge.

The last person to leave the elevator lingered near the door, clearly wanting to chat with Zayne during the break. "Forgot something," Zayne said with a curt smile, pressing the door close button. He looked up at the camera again as he pushed the button for the conference floor to continue the charade, and this time the smirk spread wider.

After the elevator climbed a few floors, he hit the emergency stop and turned his attention back to you. The sudden realization hit you that he was far from finished with you earlier.

He reached for you again, pulling you back against him a little more forcefully this time. "It seems you thought I was done with you earlier. I wouldn't want to disappoint you after all your hard work," he said, his breath ghosting against your ear. His hand slid up your arm and over your shoulder to grab your chin, directing your eyes so you could see the way he had you pressed against him in the mirror along the back wall. "Is this enough? I can only assume you want more."

His other hand slid between your legs again, gently tugging your panties to the side. As he moved his fingers along your slit, spreading the slick that had gathered there, his eyes met yours in the reflection. He let out a small groan against your ear as his fingers plunged inside you, easily finding the spot that made your legs go weak. He moved his fingers inside you with practiced efficiency, knowing exactly what your body needed to bring you to the edge.

A voice came through on the intercom. "Everything alright? We received a notice that the emergency stop was initiated on this elevator."

Zayne slid his hand from around your jaw to cover your mouth, stifling the breathy moan that started to escape you as his fingers continued to work inside you. "My apologies. It seems I pressed the wrong button by mistake."

His fingers worked faster, feeling the telltale flutter that let him know you were close, and he gently squeezed his hand over your mouth to stop you from crying out as he began circling your clit with his thumb. The voice on the intercom continued through the standard safety procedure to ensure the situation was under control, and Zayne responded to each question as if nothing were amiss.

You lost control just as he took his hand away from your mouth to release the emergency stop, the elevator starting to climb again. "That's it…" he said, kissing your neck as he slid his arm around you to help keep you upright. Your release crashed over you, and your hand flew up to grab his arm, fingers digging into his skin. He continued to work his fingers inside you until he felt you still against him, then slowly withdrew.

You hadn't even heard Caleb come in. But suddenly the entire room filled with his presence. Especially with the words he'd just delivered to his son, speaking in a tone so low that it was more threatening than if he had yelled.

"Now apologize to her immediately and never, ever speak to her like that again. You hear me?"

You want to tell him to stop. That you know your son was going through a rough patch and all teenagers behaved this way but you were too busy trying to hold the tears in to interrupt. Next to you, your son looks visibly pale. Sure, he admired and respected his Dad and almost never suffered any dire consequences for any mistakes he made but to see his father so visibly vibrating with the effort it took to suppress his anger, he was terrified.

When he fails to respond, Caleb's voice claps into the room like a lightning strike "Speak up, did you hear me?"

"Yes, sir" Your son is also on the verge of tears as he turns to you "I'm sorry, Mom"

You're about to respond but Caleb cuts in "Good. You're grounded for two weeks and will hand in your phone every night before bed. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir"

"Go to your room and tidy up. I'll be with you in a minute, we're going to address this little behavior properly" Your son has never faced his father's wrath this way and is desperate to make amends as he grabs your arm so you could shield him away like you always did.

Caleb's eyes drop to his trembling arms and he pulls you back against him, making him let go of you "No. You don't get to speak to her like that and use her as your defense too. She'll forgive you when she wants to"

You almost want to comfort your son when you see the kicked puppy look in his eyes as he sniffles, moving past you both to go upstairs and await further scolding.

For a long moment after he leaves, neither you nor Caleb move. He's still got his arm wrapped around your shoulder and after a tense moment, you lean into him "When did you get home?"

"Just in time to hear enough. We didn't raise him to be ungrateful like that. I almost threw him out of the house"

"Caleb-"

"No, Pips. He needs to learn that just because his Mother pampers him, he can't get away with talking to you like that" Turning you in his arms, Caleb bends to your eyelevel "And you need to stop letting him"

"He's just a little boy. Our little boy. You know he's had trouble adjusting since we moved last year. He's right, maybe we should cut him some slack"

"We can do that without excusing the disrespect" Kissing your shoulder, Caleb straightens "Let me talk to him, alright?"

He's about to walk away when you grab his arm "No matter what conclusion you come to, my son is not sleeping outside as punishment"

Smiling, Caleb presses a quick kiss into your hair "I'll try" When you give him a stern look, he laughs "I promise I'll try to be more...lenient"

You hear his footfalls on the staircase, a quick knock followed by the quiet thump of the door closing. As you start prepping for dinner, you relax more. Caleb pampered his son just as much, if not more. You trusted him enough to know he'd handle the situation with care.

You're putting the lid on the pot and clearing out the space when you feel arms around your waist, hugging you tightly from behind as your son sniffles against your back "I'm really sorry, Mom. I'll do better from here on out"

Smiling, you turn to hug him back "I'm really glad to hear that and-" You pull back till he's looking at you, nose red and eyes slightly puffy that indicated that he really did feel awful "-I forgive you, okay? Don't beat yourself up over it anymore" You squeeze him tightly once again and ruffle his hair before kissing his head "Now go freshen up before dinner"

He's exiting the kitchen, nodding at Caleb who was leaning against the doorway watching the entire exchange. Once he's gone, Caleb takes his place and wraps his arms around you, sighing deeply into your hair and making you laugh.

"How'd it go? I'm guessing good?"

"Hardest thing I've had to do in my life" Caleb admits as you run your fingers through his hair, patting his back while he tightened his arms around you "Thank God we didn't raise a troublemaker though I did promise we'll revisit the discussion for summer camp"

"You handled it well" You praise as Caleb pulls back to look at you, your fingers mussing up his hair into that cute, dorky look you'd first fallen in love with "Really well" At your conspicuous grin, your husband's eyebrows nearly touch his hairline when your fingers start twisting in his shirt "No one gets away with disrespecting your wife, huh?"

Caleb's fingers reach under your shirt, drawing patterns on your skin as he pulls you closer "You're my wife before you're his mother. He needs to learn that" Kissing your jaw, he nips at the skin as he whispers "So yes, nobody talks to my wife like that without facing consequences"

"Nobody?" You grin up at him.

Lowering his mouth against yours, Caleb's also grinning "Some of us have special privileges-" You jump when you hear your son's bedroom door shut again, trying to pull out of your husband's grip but he's insistent "Relax, babe. He knows how he was made and that the stock story isn't true"

Swatting his arm, you chastise "Caleb!" You're trying to escape his hold but it's hard to remember why you want to when he's got his hands on you like this and is kissing that secret spot under your ear like that "He could come downstairs at any time and- and...and dinner- oh"

Another deafening sob is torn from your lips when Rafayel experimentally rolls his hips, his thickened tip pressed into your drooling and tight cunt. He’s laying behind you while you both are on your sides, chest flushed against your back. One of his hands holds onto your thigh tenderly, keeping one of your legs bent forward to uncover your glistening pussy.

“Mmhp. . h- haaah?” Rafayel stutters out, voice shaking and trembling as he pants and moans out your name so sweetly— it takes everything in him to compose himself and not try to satisfy that ache in his lower stomach. 

He leans down to press tender, sweet, and warm bundles of kisses on your flushed skin— starting from your shoulder, neck, ending at your chin. At this, your body relaxes slightly, giving Rafayel the chance to plunge some of his length into your creamy hole with a wet squelch. You gasp out in ecstasy,  fat tears prickling in the corner of your eyes from the sweet and addictive sensation of being stretched out— that bubbling in your lower belly intensifies.   

“M- my pearl. . f- fuck, just l- let me—“ he murmurs out, one of his hands going over your body— fingers expertly drawing perfect circles on your swollen clit, dragging out more arousal from your cunt.

Your temporary worries melt away instantly, instead, replaced with the need to gain more of this addictive pleasure— moaning out, squirming lightly when Rafayel’s fingers pressed on your clit firmer.

“Rafayel. .” You mewl out in a breathless voice, throwing your head back, bumping into him.

Your fingers dig into the sheets harder, resisting the urge to squirm and writhe from his fingers toying with your puffy clit. Rafayel is precise and observant, finding the perfect amount of pressure to apply and what motion to utilize to have you wailing in pleasure instead of pain.

“Yesyes, fe- feel good for me. . my bride” Rafayel encourages, bucking his hips, his cock slipping into your cunt easier than before until his skin was flushed with yours— cock fully buried in your gooey walls. 

More tears sprout in your eyes, breathing coming out chopping and small; it’s hard to breathe when Rafayel is filling you up soo well. . It's overwhelmingly good. He pulls his hips back; cock re-emerging, completely drenched in your sticky arousal, from your velvety walls before pressing back in slowly.

“Haaah. . nngh! F- feels good, my pearl?” Rafayel asks softly, setting a slow and tender pace, each thrust has arousal gushing from your sloppy hole. 

You nod your head, moaning out Rafayel’s name. With his free hand, he guides you to glance over your shoulder by your chin— kissing your lips so gently but passionately. Tongues dragging against each other while his pace speeds up just ever so slightly, that has hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

CALEB

“Haaah hck—! ‘Leb. . yo- you’re too bigg, it won’t fit!” You whine out sadly, voice muffled slightly by the sheets, hips wiggling impatiently. 

Your ass is hanging in the air while your face is pressed into the pillow, thighs parted wide to allow him to settle between them comfortably. Caleb’s cock is too fat and thick, only the bulbous tip is buried snugly in your shopping hole, leaking tons and tons of precum in your walls. It’s frustrating, you keep squirming and wriggling your hips— letting your unnecessary worries get into your head. 

After all, this isn’t the first time you’ve had Caleb inside you, you doubt it would be the last too.

“Mmhp. . will it hurt?” Caleb teases softly, finger smoothing against the warm skin of your plush hips.

He slowly pulls his tip from your stuffed hole with a wet pop, slowly dragging his length through your puffy lips. . coating his length with your juices. Caleb’s heavy cock drags and grinds against your syrupy slit, tip bumping into your clit with each heavy drag. You melt from the pleasure, hole sopping and drooling new arousal. 

Caleb’s fingers glide underneath your body, finding your clit easily— rolling tight circles on the puffy bud to have you gasping and drooling from his touch. His fat tip lines up with your pussy, this time, his thickness easily splits your walls apart— stretching wide until his hips are flushed with yours. 

“Nngh’ ‘leb!” You squeal out, tears clouding your eyes, that heavy weight in your belly is addictive. 

The lewd sight of you; face down, ass up, sweat coating and causing your skin to glisten, moaning out his name so sweetly as his grip tightening on your hips to hold you still as he thrusts his fat length into your velvety walls. Caleb’s balls slap against your puffy clit with each mean thrust, knocking out the oxygen in your lungs. 

“Nngh— ohfuck. . t- there we go, baby! L- let me make ya’ feel good” he moans out, a shiver coursing through his body when your gooey walls spams and quiver around his length. 

You nod your head into the pillow, melting from the overwhelming pleasure Caleb brings. 

ZAYNE

“Ohmygod. . fuckk—! Shit, you’re t- too big. .” You mewl out loudly in a whiney tone, panting and exhaling out in a shaky and ragged manner due to the weight in your lower belly making it harder to breathe. 

Your legs are draped along the outside of his thighs, that pretty cock of his impaling your drooling hole so perfectly— buried to the hilt of your cunt. It just felt too good, too addictive; the pleasurable ache that followed when his thickness stretched your gooey walls apart to accommodate him, the feeling of his veins drag along your velvety walls, and each jolt and twitch of his cock elicits whines. You press your hands onto Zayne’s chest, shakily rocking and rolling your hips to feel him press in deeper. 

“Nghh—. . yo- you’re soo deep” you drool out, wailing and whining when he bucks his hips, letting him press in even deeper. 

“but my beloved. . you managed to take me in so well” Zayne groans out, hands holding your waist gently, thumb smoothing against the slick skin in a comforting fashion.

At Zayne’s words, you whine softly, thighs trembling when his cock bobs and throbs deep inside your pussy. . deliciously brushing against your sweet spot. 

“Mmh. . s- shall I aid my beloved?” He teases softly, those hooded eyes of his scans your body— taking in the sight of you perched on his lap, bodies connected in ten most lewdest way. 

You nod eagerly, grip tightening on his chest as a sort of leverage. With your passionate consent; Zayne’s grip on your hips tighten ever so slightly, rolling your hips in a slow manner. . the wet slosh and squelch of your pussy fills the room as his cock stirs your walls open. With each grind, his cock brushes perfectly against your g-spot— a wave of heat washing through your body as arousal pools to your cunt.

“Hckk—! Fuckk. . god, th- this feels soo good” you slur out, eyes fluttering shit as you enjoy the sensation of pleasure coursing through your body.

You barely recognized when Zayne was slowly lifting you from his lap and pressing you back down— starting off with gentle thrusts. That painful stretch didn’t feel overly suffocating anymore, not when he’s working you open slowly— guiding you up and down while giving you sweet praises. It isn’t too long until you’re happily bouncing on his lap, moaning in delight when he presses so deep into your creamy cunt. . the wet sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room quickly.

Plap plap plapp—

“Mybeloved—. . doing soo well for me, mmhp fuckk—“ Zayne groans breathlessly between moans of your name, letting you use his body in search of your own pleasure.

VALKO

“Valkooo—! Hck! Fuckk. . t- too biggg!” You squeal out loudly into his pillow, body quivering from the pleasure. . helpless beneath him.

The sight of you is lewd; face buried into his pillow, skin slick and glistening from sweat and sticky cum, flesh flushed from the intense heat, pressed into prone bone— the scent of Valko lingers on your skin, it’s too enticing. Only the fat tip of his thick cock is buried into your drooling hole, the stretch of his tip was enough to have you squirming and shaking.

“Shh. . I’ll t- take —mmhp shit. . take c- care of you, baby” Valko pants out, his tail wagging crazily as he presses one of his hands under your body— fingers quickly finding your puffy clit.

His fingers, precise and quick, draw sweet and firm circles onto your engorged clit— drawing out a gasp of his name, cunt becoming slicker and slicker everytime he rolls your clit perfectly. Your hips jolt and twitch in ecstasy, moaning and mewling into the pillows. That stretch that once felt painful and overwhelming felt amazing, inch after inch of Valko’s fat cock plunging into your pussy slowly.

A wet, obscure squelch and slosh of your sopping cunt fills the room when only half of Valko’s length is snug in your velvety walls. That heavy weight in your stomach, this time, is welcomed.

“Haaah. . ohfuckk, d- doing great f’me” he groans out, one arm pressed to your left to keep himself hovering over your body while his other hand still rolls and pressed onto the bundle of nerves above your stretched out hole.

“Valkoo. .” You sob out, a shiver coursing through your body when he leans down to kiss your sweaty back.

“Ju- just a bit more. . —nngh fuck!” Valko grunts out, hips flushed with yours within seconds as his length is plunged deep in your gooey walls.

“Y- yes—!” You gasp out breathlessly, rolling your hips shakily.

Overwhelmed would be an understatement of the way you feel, walls forced to accommodate the thickness of his dick. Valko’s eyes dilated at the erotic sight of you, he had no choice but to pound into your quivering body— slamming his body weight on top of you to allow his length to press deeper and harder into your walls.

“Mmhp—! F- fuck. .” You squeal out loudly, moaning in delight.

“Haaah. . you’ll let me have you, right, baby? —mmhp! L- let me fill you up with my pups” he drools out, slamming his body onto yours with a wet plap, teeth finding your shoulder and back until his mark blooms on your skin.

--

"squirting and female ejaculation are two different phenomenon." his voice is buttery soft as his fingers glide over your slit, gathering your slick to spread it over your glistening lips.

"ngh—released from the skene's glands and urethr—ah! respectively." you manage, lifting your head to see the way his slender fingers disappear into your syrupy hole.

"Its commendable how well informed you are. however, I'd rather you lost your mind on my fingers right now, darling." with that, his digits hook up, rubbing the swollen spot inside you.

his thumb finds your clit, making your walls quiver and melt around him. Your brain is melting into a mush. He hasn't moved his fingers. He's just caressing your sweet spot intently.

a strange weight accumulates in your stomach each time he does it, making you squirm under him.

"zayne—i feel something here..." your palm comes to your lower tummy.

"good. we're making progress." he mumbles, leaning down to replace his thumb with his lips. he nips and sucks your clit, mouth opening to lick broad stripe over your pebbled nub.

his fingers stop moving. His wrist does instead. Fingers he keeps hooked tight, massaging your sweet spot with pin-point precision.

"focus on the anterior wall is key." he tells you, taking your clit back in his mouth for a deep suckle, making your thighs tremble with need. his fingers trickle up your skin, to your navel, planting kisses alongside his touches.

"a little pressure here..." The heel of his palm presses down on your lower stomach. gently at first, slowly growing. You nearly choke on a moan. "Do you feel it?"

Feel what? The way you want to pee? cum? Or both?

"oh-oh god!" your fingers find purchase in his hair as he scissors you open. you're sucking him in, spasming around him wildly.

His fingers jab your g spot. He can feel them against his palm. that alone has him pathetically leaking pre in his pants as he ruts himself against the mattress.

"this makes your g spot more accessible. Paired with the pressure on your anterior wall..." He emphasizes it with his arm moving up and down, prodding that spongy spot, making your pussy gurgle and squelch lewdly. the intensity grows. his entire arm works now, making you quake violently with every movement.

"oh shitshit-zaynee—" the heat in your stomach is growing, coiling—a little more and you'll snap so hard. the thought alone has you letting out a perverted laugh.

"zayne... I think I'm about to—" you're so perfectly fucked out right now.

"I can feel it." He murmurs, leaning down to kiss your thigh. "Relax your pelvic muscles."

"y-youre gonna get sprayed in your face—"

"perhaps I want that." he admits, mesmerized. "after all, the female ejaculate contains high amounts of glucose." whaat a fuckin perv

but that's all it takes to maul your restraint. you gush around him with a silent cry, spraying so hard that your back arches off the mattress. his fingers keep going. rightly so because something else approaches. that familiar coil in your stomach.

mother of all things good. are you cumming? you see white before you can ruminate on it further. he groans in delight, mouth latching on to your creaming pussy. it makes you squeal in overstimulation.

when he finally lifts his face, licking your cream off his fingers—you see it—face dripping wet and dazed.

zayne never refuses to assist your research after that.

part 2 of the FOR SCIENCE series

You gasp as he slides a finger into your slick pussy, thrusting gently as his thumb takes over working your engorged bud. "I'm only one half of the knot, sweetheart."

Your walls clench around the invading digit, too eager for the stimulation. "What?" Mind hazy and fractured, you barely form the word.

"Yes little mouse. See, you help form the knot too." He licks the shell of your ear, tugging your nipple to keep you alert. "When I touch you like this, you get a little needier for me every second. And the needier you get, the wetter you get. And the wetter you are, the easier for me to slide right into this poor little hole that's desperate for my cock."

A shivering moan tears from your throat as his finger disappears past his knuckle, and he presses into your clit firmly, continuing those circling motions.

"What do you think happens if you're not as needy as you should be, and I slip in?" He pauses all his actions, giving you a second to gather your wits and reply, but all you could think about was having an orgasm, to fall apart on his fingers like a little pathetic toy.

"You don't know?" He chuckles lowly, but kisses your cheek. "That's ok mouse. If you did, it means I'm not touching you right." And all at once, he resumes everything, your body tight as a bowstring under his wicked ministrations.

"See, if you're not completely ready, these walls here won't swell up when I breed you. And if they aren't swollen, then it means my knot won't last as long. It'll slip out sooner. Do you want that?"

You shake your head no as you gulp in air, hips arching shamelessly against his hand.

"Good girl," Valko growls. "Yeah, you want to be knotted good as I pump you full of cum, huh? Want me all up in there as long as possible, milk me dry with those heavenly walls."

He inserts a second finger and you nearly black out from the pleasure as he scissors, stretching your walls to their limit. You cunt spasms in warning, but before the feeling can build, he pulls them out, and you're left empty and aching.

"Valko!" Tears sting your eyes and he licks them away.

"It's ok mouse. You're not ready yet. I'll knot you so good when you are." He licks and bites down your neck, leaving marks as his middle finger gathers moisture from your leaking hole and rubs it onto your clit.

From inside, and older woman called, “If that's my good plate, I will put someone in the ground before supper.”

Valko closed his eyes. You turned toward him.

He opened one eyes. “She loves plates.”

“More than people?”

“Depends on the people.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself, and relief moved through him all at once, softening his shoulders, loosening the frightened line of his mouth. He'd been nervous all morning. Badly nervous. Valko, who could grin with blood on his teeth and make danger look like a door he'd simply forgotten to knock on, had spent the whole walk here giving you warnings no sane person could have prepared for.

Do not let Mika read your palm. He makes things up and then believes them.

Do not compliment Baba's curtains unless you want curtains.

Do not say you're full.

And, most importantly, if anyone mentions the soup incident, Valko had said, grave as a condemned man, they're lying.

You had asked what the soup incident was.

He had started to walk faster.

Now he stood before the old wooden door with your fingers caught in his, trying to look calm and producing, somehow, the exact expression of a wolf about to be bathed.

“Valko,” you said softly.

“Yes?”

“You're shaking.”

“I'm not shaking.”

“You are.”

“I’m containing myself.”

“From what?”

“Hereditary embarrassment.”

The door flew open.

A girl about his age stood on the other side, dark-eyed and grinning, with flour on her cheek and murder in her posture. She took one look at Valko’s hand around yours, then lifted her gaze to his face with the slow delight of someone finding a knife exactly where she had hoped one would be.

A slow smile cut across her face.

“Oh,” she smirked. “So this is why you changed your shirt twice.”

Valko made a sound. Small, wounded, entirely unlike a wolf.

“I changed once.”

“You changed twice. The first shirt was the blue one. The second was the one that made you look like you were going to court. This...This is the third.”

His ears went red.

The woman held out her hand to you. “Milena. His sister.”

“Unfortunately,” Valko added.

“Fortunately. Without me, you'd still think soap is optional in winter.”

“It isn't optional.”

“Because of me.”

You took Milena's hand. Her grip was warm, firm, and full of judgement she hadn't yet decided to use.

Behind her, the house breathed out heat. Bread, onions, some in old wood, something sweet cooling on a counter. There were voices everywhere, layered and crossing. One person laughing while another complained, a child humming under a table, chairs scraping, a kettle whistling like a bird losing patience.

Milena stepped aside. “Come in before Baba starts saying we were raised by wolves.”

Valko muttered, “We were.”

She looked at him. “And still, some of us learned manners.”

You crossed the threshold. The house was smaller than the noise made it seem, or maybe the noise had simply learned to fill every corner. Framed photographs climbed the walls in crooked rows. Herbs hung drying above the kitchen window. Nothing matched, and yet everything looked touched, mended, argued over... kept.

Valko leaned close as he helped you out of your coat.

“Last chance,” he whispered. “We can run.”

You looked past him to where an old woman stood near the stove, hands folded over her apron, watching you with bright, wolfish eyes.

“Too late,” you whispered back. “I think she heard you.”

“I hear everything,” the old woman said.

Valko went still.

Milena smiled into her shoulder.

The old woman crossed the kitchen with the slow authority of someone who had ruled this house before any of them had teeth. She was small, broad in the shoulders, silver-haired, with flour on her wrist and no softness wasted in her face. The softness, you realised, was elsewhere. In the bread covered by a towel, in the chair pulled out before you reached it, in the way Valko lowered his head without being asked when she came close.

“Baba,” he said, and for the first time that day, his voice lost its jokes.

She, of course, ignored him.

Instead, she took your face between both hands.

Her palms smelled of rosemary, yeast, and soap. Her thumbs rested beneath your cheekbones, and for one strange second the whole house seemed to lean closer. The cousins, the kettle, the old boards, even Valko, holding his breath beside you.

“So,” Baba Vesna said. “You are the reason he forgets to eat.”

“I eat,” Valko protested.

Teta Marika appeared by the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “You came here last week, opened the pantry, stared at a sack of potatoes for six minutes, then said, ‘I wonder what she’s doing.’”

“That was taken out of context.”

“What was the context?” you asked, because love had made you brave and terrible.

Valko looked betrayed. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

A boy leaning backwards on his chair nearly lost balance from laughing, another cousin caught the chair by its back without looking up from peeling an apple.

Baba Vesna patted your cheek once and released you. “Sit, dušo. Eat something before my family embarrass me properly.”

Valko gave a strangled laugh. “Before?”

No one listened to him.

You were placed at the long wooden table as if the decision had been made before you arrived. A bowl appeared, then bread, then butter, then a small plate of pickled vegetables. Teta Marika, Valko's aunt, kissed the air beside your cheeks and took the small gift you had brought. Mika announced that he already knew your favourite colour from Valko’s face. Luka told him that was the stupidest sentence ever spoken in the kitchen, which Mika accepted as praise. The little one beneath the table emerged, solemn and bread-dusted, and introduced himself as Niko.

“Are you going to marry him?” Niko asked.

Valko walked directly into the side of a chair.

The whole kitchen paused. You pressed your lips together.

Milena leaned against the doorway, radiant with cruelty. “Careful, Niko. Val only has two knees.”

“Niko,” Teta Marika turned from the stove, wooden spoon in hand. “We ask guests if they want juice first.”

Niko nodded, absorbing this etiquette with grave importance. “Do you want juice before you marry him?”

Valko covered his face with both hands. You bit down on your smile so hard it almost hurt. This wasn't what you had expected.

Some foolish, frightened part of you had imagined a den in the old sense. Teeth, watchful eyes, a family arranged around blood and law, waiting to decide whether your bones could be allowed near theirs. Valko had never spoken of them casually. Whenever he said home, something tender and embarrassed moved through him, as though the word itself had fingers and knew exactly where to touch.

Now you sat beneath a crooked lamp while his grandmother tore bread with her hands and put the first piece on your plate.

“Eat,” Baba Vesna said.

You obeyed.

The bread was warm enough to steam between your fingers. The crust cracked softly, butter melted into it in golden lines. Across the table, Valko watched you take the first bite as if your mouth held judgment from heaven.

You chewed. Swallowed.

“It’s delicious.”

Baba Vesna clicked her tongue. “Of course it is wonderful. I made it.”

Mika leaned towards you. “He talked about you after the market yesterday.”

Valko’s hand hit the table. “No.”

“Yes, you did” Luka said sticking his tongue out.

“No.”

“You said, and I quote, 'she chooses fruit with such care'.”

The table went quiet for half a breath, your hand stilled around the bread. Valko looked at Luka as if betrayal had entered the room wearing his cousin’s face.

“That was private.”

“You said it in the kitchen.”

“That makes it private.”

Milena sat across from you and rested her chin in her hand. “He also said you have kind hands.”

Valko’s mouth opened, nothing came out. Your heart did something foolish inside your chest.

The teasing had worked him bright and flustered, but beneath it, something softer trembled. He was embarrassed, yes. Horribly, so. Beautifully, so. Yet the thing underneath was more dangerous than shame. This was exposure. A curtain pulled open in a room he had spent so long keeping dim.

He had spoken of you here.

At this table. In this warm, loud house. To these people who teased him because they knew what he looked like with no armour on. He had brought you home long before he ever brought your body through the door.

Baba Vesna filled your bowl with soup.

“He was always like this,” she said.

“Baba, please.”

“He was a strange child,” she said.

Valko groaned. “Please.”

“A sweet child,” Teta Marika corrected.

“A dramatic child,” Luka said.

“A biting child,” Milena added.

Valko pointed at her. “You bit first.”

“You looked biteable.”

“You see what I mean?” Valko turned to you with helpless outrage. “This is what I survived.”

There was love in it, the kind that had been cooked too long and reduced into something strong enough to stain. They spoke to him as if they had known every version of him and chosen, again and again, to keep putting food in front of whichever one came home.

You looked at him while he argued with Mika about whether a stolen spoon counted as a childhood trauma.

He caught you looking. For a moment, the noise thinned.

There he was.

Valko with his hair refusing every law of decency. Valko trying so hard to survive his own family and failing beautifully. His eyes met yours with a nervous brightness that made you want to reach across the table and be cruel to every fear that had ever found him.

Then Niko pointed his spoon at you.

“Are you keeping him?”

The kitchen stopped.

Valko made a tiny sound into his bowl.

Milena closed her eyes as if praying for patience and finding none. “Niko.”

“What? Mika said maybe she is keeping him.”

His gaze dropped to the table, to the bread by his hand, to the small old cuts in the wood. The blush still clung to him, but it had changed into something quieter now. Hope, perhaps. Or terror wearing hope’s coat.

You could have laughed. Everyone would have let you. It would have been easy to throw the question back into the room like a toy and watch them tear it apart.

Instead, beneath the table, you found Valko’s hand.

His fingers closed around yours at once.

“I’d like to,” you said.

The house held itself still for half a breath.

Then Baba Vesna nodded, once, as if some old contract had been signed in soup and honey.

“Good,” she said. “He is difficult, but warm.”

Valko bowed his head.

His shoulders shook.

At first you thought he was upset. Then you realised he was laughing, quietly, helplessly, with one hand over his mouth and the other holding yours under the table like he meant to keep it there until winter.

Mika groaned. “Ah, look at him. Finished. Completely finished.”

Milena reached for the pickles. “Good. He needed finishing.”

Teta Marika smiled into her tea. “Eat more, zlato. You will need strength.”

“For Valko?” you asked.

“For all of us.”

Dinner became less a meal than a storm with chairs.

Bowls moved, hands reached, stories climbed over one another and died unfinished because someone remembered a better accusation. Luka asked you practical questions in a calm voice: where you liked to walk, whether Valko had shown you the old river path, whether he still pretended not to like sweet things. Mika tried to read your palm and declared that you were fated to own a troublesome dog.

“That's just Valko,” Milena said.

“I am not a dog.”

“True,” Luka said. “Dogs listen.”

Valko began quietly placing the best pieces of food on your plate.

A soft carrot, the inside of the bread, a dumpling he pretended to move away from himself and somehow abandoned beside your spoon. He was not subtle. He had never been subtle. He was a wolf trying to hide a whole deer behind a napkin.

You noticed on the fourth offering.

His family noticed on the first.

Baba Vesna said nothing until Valko tried to give you the last honey cake. Then she leaned back in her chair and looked at him over her tea.

“Ah,” she said.

Valko froze.

It was one syllable. It landed like a bell.

“What?” he said.

“No, no.” She waved him off. “Continue. Starve for romance. Very noble.”

Mika threw his head back.

You picked up the honey cake before Valko could die at the table and broke it in two, placing half on his plate. “There,” you said. “No starving.”

He looked at the cake.

Then he looked at you.

His expression opened in a way that made the room, somehow, feel too small for your heart. It opened with that unguarded, bewildered softness he sometimes gave you when kindness arrived before he had prepared himself to receive it.

Milena saw it.

Her teasing quieted.

For a moment, she only watched him with something old and protective in her face.

Then she stood. “Come help me with plates.”

Valko blinked. “Me?”

“Her.” Milena pointed at you.

Valko frowned. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“That's not a reason.”

“It has worked on you for years.”

You rose before he could protest again. Milena took two plates from the table and handed you none of them, which told you at once that this had nothing to do with helping.

She led you down a narrow hallway lined with photographs.

Behind you, Valko’s voice rose. “Do not interrogate her.”

The hallway smelled faintly of beeswax and dried herbs. The noise of the kitchen softened behind you, still there, still golden, but now wrapped in walls. Milena stopped by a window overlooking the yard and leaned her hip against the sill.

For the first time all evening, she let the smile leave her face.

“He likes you,” she said.

You smiled gently. “I got that impression.”

“No.” Her eyes flicked towards the kitchen. “He likes people easily. He likes old men who tell bad stories, stray cats that scratch him, children who throw rocks at windows because they want attention. Valko is built stupid that way.”

A laugh escaped you.

Milena folded her arms.

“He brings things home,” she continued. “Broken things, angry things. Things he thinks no one else will be gentle with.” Her gaze moved towards the kitchen, where Valko’s voice lifted in protest. “He does not bring people home.”

Your throat tightened.

From the kitchen, Valko shouted, “It wasn't soup. It was stew.”

Mika shouted back, “Stew cannot make a grown man cry.”

“I was overwhelmed by flavour.”

Milena closed her eyes for one second. “Bože, give me strength.”

You laughed softly.

She looked at you again, sharper now.

“He was nervous all week,” she said. “Changed his shirt three times. Asked me if the house smelled too much like onions. Asked Luka if his laugh was strange. Asked Baba if she could please not tell the story about the goat.”

“The goat?”

“Later.” A faint smile touched her mouth. “Maybe never.”

You glanced back towards the kitchen.

He had asked if his laugh was strange.

Something in you ached with such tenderness that it almost felt like anger.

You looked down.

“He didn’t need to worry,”

“He is clumsy with precious things,” she said. “Because he thinks his hands are only good for breaking them, even when he is careful. Especially then.”

“So be kind,” she said. “Or be cruel quickly. He will survive either, but I prefer to know which one I’m dealing with.”

There it was.

The knife under the table. The love with its teeth intact. You didn't resent her for it, you thought, strangely, that you liked her more for it.

“I’m not here to hurt him,”

“Most people aren’t, at first.”

“Milena.”

Milena’s gaze narrowed.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with him,” you admitted.

“With any of this,” you continued. “He makes everything feel…” You searched for the word and hated every pretty one that came. Fated. Wild. Tender. All too polished for the mess he made of your heart. “He makes everything feel like I’ve been walking past a door my whole life, and he is the idiot who opened it with his shoulder.”

Milena stared at you.

Then she laughed once, sharp and startled.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re gone too.”

You looked down, caught.

She seemed satisfied. “Good.”

“Is that approval?”

“That is me deciding not to be difficult.”

“You were being difficult?”

“Dušo,” she said, and now her smile had teeth in it, “I was being polite.”

When you returned to the kitchen, Valko was waiting near the doorway as if he had tried to remain seated and failed.

His eyes moved from you to Milena. “What did you say to her?”

Milena walked past him. “That you were adopted.”

“I’m not.”

“Emotionally, you're a wet dog we found in the rain.”

He watched her go, wounded on principle, then turned to you with genuine concern. “What did she actually say?”

You reached up and brushed flour from his sleeve. “That you’re warm.”

“That was Baba.”

“Family consensus.”

His mouth twitched. “You are enjoying this.”

“I am.”

“You were supposed to be intimidated.”

“By Mika?”

“By the bloodline. The history. The general atmosphere of teeth.”

“Mika told me my palm says I’ll own a dog.”

Valko sighed.

You reached up and plucked the dish towel from his shoulder. “You have flour on your sleeve.”

He looked down, surprised, as if his own body had been making decisions without him. Then he looked back at you, and the kitchen noise faded once more, though this time it was only the two of you making the world small.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

The question was casual enough for anyone else to miss the tremor underneath. You heard it. The naked, waiting part. You thought of his hand shaking outside the door. Baba Vesna taking your face between her palms, of bread steaming in your fingers, of honey cake divided in two, of Milena saying he doesn't bring people home.

“I’m all right,” you said. “Are you?”

Valko smiled too quickly. “I’m alive.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

His smile softened.

For once, he did not joke immediately. It cost him something. You could see it in the way his fingers flexed at his side, reaching for mischief and finding courage instead.

“I wanted them to like you,” he said. “I wanted you to like them.”

“I do”

“I wanted…” He stopped, then laughed under his breath. “I don’t know. Something stupid.”

He looked towards the kitchen, where his family had resumed their noise without mercy. Mika was accusing Luka of stealing the larger piece of cake. Baba Vesna had taken down a tin from the highest shelf, probably containing either biscuits or secrets.

“Valko, stop hiding her. I have photographs.”

Horror returned to his face with magnificent speed.

“No.”

“Yes,”

“No photographs.”

“Naked baby photos,” Mika added.

Valko went pale. “You do not have those.”

Teta Marika’s voice drifted after him, serene and deadly. “We have everything.”

He grabbed your hand. “We’re leaving.”

You let him pull you three steps before Baba Vesna appeared in the doorway holding a small album to her chest.

“Sit,” she said.

Valko sat.

It was remarkable how quickly a wolf could become a grandson.

For the next hour, they showed you the evidence of his life.

Valko missing two front teeth and glaring at the camera as though betrayed by dentistry. Valko asleep under the table with one hand buried in a dog’s fur. Valko at thirteen, all elbows and outrage, holding a fish half his size while crying because he had to put it back.

There was Valko covered in mud, Valko wearing a paper crown, Valko with Milena’s arm hooked around his neck while he pretended to hate her and leaned into her anyway. Valko standing beside Baba Vesna in the garden, holding a basket of tomatoes like he had been entrusted with the fate of nations.

Each photograph was another small door.

You had known him in pieces: the grin, the hunger, the awkward tenderness, the jokes he threw like branches over deep water. Here was the rest of him. Here was the child who had survived becoming himself because these hands had fed him, scolded him, dragged him upright, and remembered his softness when he tried to outgrow it.

At some point, while everyone argued over whether the goat incident happened before or after the soup incident, Valko bent close to you.

“You don’t have to keep looking,” he murmured.

You turned a page.

A tiny Valko stared up from the album, holding a wooden spoon like a sword.

“Yes,” you said. “I do.”

He stared at you.

Then, very briefly, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

It lasted only a second. A shy, exhausted surrender. No one commented on it, though you knew every person in the room saw. That seemed to be another house rule. They would mock the wound, yes, but they protected the pulse.

Later, when the cups were cleared and the album returned to its shelf of holy embarrassments, you stepped outside for air.

The yard was cold, dark and soft around the edges. Herbs grew beneath the window, yhe old trees leaned towards the house as if listening. Behind you, the kitchen glowed gold, laughter pressing against the glass.

Valko followed after a moment, closing the door carefully behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

You looked at him. “For what?”'

“The interrogation. The photographs. Mika. The marriage question. The soup litigation.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Milena.”

“I like Milena.”

“That means she behaved.”

“She said she was being polite.”

He winced. “Then she liked you.”

You leaned back against the porch railing, and he stood in front of you with his hands in his pockets, rocking once on his heels like he wanted to come closer and had forgotten the law of his own body.

Through the window, you could see Baba Vesna pretending to wipe the table while watching you both with shameless interest. You lifted a hand and waved.

She waved back.

Valko turned, saw her, and groaned. “For the love of...Baba.”

“She loves you.”

“That's her usual excuse for crimes.”

“It’s a good one.”

He looked back at you, and the teasing left him slowly, piece by piece. Out here, with the house at his back, he seemed caught between the wild thing and the loved thing. The wolf and the boy in the paper crown. The man who had brought you to the threshold with shaking hands and still tried to joke like fear could be made harmless if he gave it a funny name.

“Did you mean it?” he asked.

“Which part?”

“When Niko asked if you were keeping me.”

The question came lightly, too lightly. A feather laid over a blade.

You reached for him.

This time, Valko did not hesitate. He came into your space at once, as if pulled by a string tied somewhere behind his ribs. His hands settled at your waist, careful at first, then warmer when you didn't move away.

“I meant it,”

His eyes searched yours.

“For tonight?”

“For longer than that.”

He didn't kiss you immediately. Somehow, that made it worse. He stood there and let the answer enter him, slowly, like someone opening the door to a room he had been told was empty and finding it lit.

Inside, Mika yelled, “Are they kissing?”

Valko dropped his forehead to your shoulder.

“Leave them. He is finally being normal.”

You laughed.

He looked at you then, and the last of his embarrassment broke open into something bright, something almost boyish

“Welcome home,” he said, very softly.

You touched his cheek.

Behind him, the old house breathed and creaked and held its golden noise. Inside, his family waited with tea, teeth, stories, and a place at the table already made yours.

“Welcome home, Valko.”

It was perfect for running your fingers through his hair, which was exactly what you were doing now, in between flipping through pages of your book. Valko made a small, sad noise when you took your hand off his head to turn to the next page, and you laughed at his clinginess.

"You're so needy, Val." Even as you teased him, you mercifully replaced the hand in his hair, and Valko's arms tightened around your waist.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Need you."

You hummed soundlessly as your fingers worked through his short hair, easing out tension until Valko had practically turned to a puddle in your lap.

"You've been antsy tonight," you continued. "Something on your mind?"

It was nice to see Valko relaxed, but he had been awfully squirmy earlier. Fingers curling against your leg, hips, waist - anywhere he could reach as he twisted to get comfortable. 

"Do you ever think about having pups?" 

Valko's voice was muffled, from the way his face was pressed into your stomach, and at first you weren't sure if you'd heard him correctly. 

"Do I what?"

"Sorry. Don't answer that." Valko all but let out a groan, shaking his head softly side to side.

"No, Val - what did you say?" You shifted slightly, and Valko raised his head to meet your gentle eyes. There was fear written over his face. And... embarrassment?

"You don't have to answer right now, I mean," Valko replied. "It's just something I've wondered about."

Smiling, you tangled your fingers a bit deeper, giving Valko the kind of scratch that never failed to make his pupils roll backwards. He looked up at you now, puppy dog eyes on full display.

"Is this all because we went to visit your cousins?" you teased.

"...Possibly."

Earlier in the day, you had visited one of Valko's aunties. Along with four of his rambunctious cousins. One of whom had brought her brand new baby - barely over three months old, and adorable enough to steal everyone's attention.

The whole way home, Valko had marvled over the littlest addition to his gigantic family, rambling on about everything from how small her ears were, to the cute little coos and howls she let out. It had been sweet, at the time, but clearly the newest family member had left deeper impressions on Valko than you'd realized.

"I do, sometimes," you said, returning your hand to the steady, stroking rhythm that Valko liked best. "Maybe not right now, but in the future..."

Valko's wolf ears, which had been hidden up until now, suddenly popped out. You flinched in surprise as they hit the palm of your hand, springing up from his head.

"Don't laugh..." Valko warned.

But it was already too late, and your soft laughter filled the quiet bedroom and the hallway beyond. The rest of the house sat empty, waiting and listening in on the conversation between you.

"Feeling a little excited there?" you asked, wiping a tear from your eye.

Your taunting was cut short as Valko burrowed his head underneath your loose t-shirt, leaving a lustful stripe of nips and kisses along your stomach.

"Told ya I need you," he said, popping out from the fabric to look at you.

“Mmm…” Valko shoves his face straight back into the left side of your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin.

“Ngh!”

As he nonchalantly approaches, “Slower.” Zayne lowers his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, “God, you’re bad at teasing her.”

His response is a mumble, who knows if Zayne properly heard it, “Shut up.” His lips part again and he sucks your skin briefly before speaking once more—to you this time, “You like it, hm?”

“Y-yes—mmm—nngh—”

Zayne takes several steps closer, pushing his glasses back up, “Yes, while that may be true… She’d open up even more if you took your time.” He sits right beside you on the console, careful to not yet touch either of you.

You look at him quickly before your head tilts back from the pressure of Valko’s mouth—his large frame pressing against you. You gasp when you feel Zayne’s cool fingers touch the right side of your neck, “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Nngh—mhm—oh my god—”

As Valko continues to attack the left side of your neck, Zayne slowly brushes some hair back behind your right shoulder, leaning in close so that his breath washes over your neck.

He smiles lightly when you lurch forward the slightest bit, moaning to what’s happening on the other side of your neck. His lips get close to your ear, “Starting without me, hm? Is someone looking for a punishment?”

Your nails sink into Valko’s white lab coat, “N-no—ngh!” You let your right arm fall from Valko’s shoulder, sliding it down his arm so that Zayne can get closer to you.

“Hmm, I think you are, sweetheart. You knew I was coming.” You moan in anticipation, but he leans away first, taking his glasses off and setting them down delicately onto the console beside him.

After, watching you writhe briefly, he dips down and in, kissing your skin as softly as he can—with sweet, light presses from his lips that immediately raise goosebumps across your skin. He does so slowly, too slowly, a stark contrast to Valko—who while sucking your flesh in a desperate need to leave his mark, starts grinding his hard cock between your legs. Both actions from the pair leave you whimpering.

Zayne’s lips part as he presses a more tender kiss against your neck before speaking into your skin just loud enough for you to still hear him, “We’ll do this first, hm? Then you’ll get your punishment.”

“Mmhm—f-fuck—!” Zayne lets out a quiet chuckle against your neck before sinking back in, his mouth opening to kiss your skin more passionately—his tongue soothing the pressure from his mouth.

As Zayne continues along your neck, Valko pulls away, groaning, “C’mere.”

Valko’s mouth comes down onto yours hot and needy, his tongue pushing past your lips as you open up to him, “Mmmph…”

Hearing the muffled moan from you, Zayne pulls away from your neck, watching the two of you carefully, “So cute… You’re such a brat.” You moan when the connection between you and Valko breaks, only left to moan again when Zayne’s hand quickly snatches your jaw and cocks your head toward him. Looking at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, it’s only seconds before he’s crashing his lips onto yours.

You moan into his mouth from his heated kiss and at the feeling of Valko suddenly tugging both your pants and panties off at the same time. It doesn’t matter that your ass is pressed on the console, the tug is swift, strong, and easy as everything comes off—only a slight jump from your body. No matter what happens, Zayne doesn’t let you go, keeping you close with the grip he has on your jaw.

Dropping to his knees, you gasp when Valko’s tongue touches your slit. Aggressively, you crane your head, breaking your kiss with Zayne in favor of the direction of Valko nestled between your thighs and pulling your dangling legs over his shoulders.

Grip still firm, Zayne lets you, but only momentarily before he’s pulling you back to face him, “Ah, ah.” You whine as Valko’s tongue parts your slit and pushes against your clit. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His grasp spreads and extends past your jaw, his fingers and thumb squeezing in on your cheeks, “So pretty…”

“Ngh—Zayne—”

He interrupts with a tsk, turning your head slightly to the side and back in his grasp—like he’s examining you, staring at your parted lips being pushed open by his fingers. “Shh…do you like him between your legs, sweetheart?”

“Mmhm—y-yes—!”

“Good.” You can’t say much of anything else before Zayne’s lips are back on yours, his tongue pushing against your own so he can keep every moan from you for himself.

Groaning and consuming you hungrily, “Mmm—tastes s’good—smells s’good—fuck—” Valko silences himself by engulfing the whole of you with his mouth again, the vibrations from his throaty hums leaving you moaning into Zayne’s mouth.

Even when you start to tremble and shake against Zayne’s grasp, he still doesn’t let you go, “Uh-uh.” You bite his bottom lip, hard, and his index and middle finger raise and tap against your cheek, a subtle warning to knock it off. When letting the kiss actually break, “You got yourself into this, not me.”

Valko continues to lap at your clit, needy whines and moans sounding from below you and Zayne. “Mmm...he’s so...sloppy.” As if on cue, Valko wraps his lips around your clit, a slurp noise sounding just after Zayne speaks. He chuckles, “See?”

Your voice is strained and squeaks out under Zayne’s tight grasp, “Mmm—f-fuck—fuck!”

“Oh, you’re so beautiful when you’re desperate. You want to look, hm?” You nod helplessly in response under his hold on you. He gently kisses your lips once before forcefully tilting your face down and toward Valko who moans against you as soon as you make eye contact with him.

Zayne’s teeth nip the side of your ear as he squeezes your cheeks again, “Happy?”

“Y-yes—mmm—t-thank y-you—nngh!”

He hums, “Of course, sweetheart.”

Valko continues to suck on your clit until you feel your legs start to violently shake, his warm eyes not leaving yours while his fingertips sink into your thighs, “S-shit—oh m-my god—m’gonna—”

“Ah,” Zayne yanks your gaze—your face—back to his, his hand never once letting you go while you watched, “you know the rules, love. Look at me when you cum.”

***

Valko glances over to Zayne, cock in hand and about to push into you. Zayne nods, his voice low, “Mmhm…go ahead.”

You and Valko’s voices overlap as he sinks his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt, “F-fuck yes—” “Mm! Oh my god—!”

Zayne leans in, kissing your cheek as you stare down at the space dissolving between you and Valko, his voice a whisper, “Does it feel good, princess?”

Valko’s watching too, restraining himself from plunging into you completely, the feeling of you squeezing him overwhelming and delicious, “S-so—ngh—good!”

Trailing his mouth from your cheek to your jaw and down, his lips touch your neck again, “Mmm, good. ...Good girl.”

Your right hand leaves Valko’s arm and grasps at Zayne’s tie instead, “Z-Zayne—s-shit—let me touch you, p-please.”

He speaks between kisses on your neck, “If I let you touch me—mmm—your punishment increases.”

“Yes, y-yes! I don’t care, just—” Your pleas are cut off by a loud moan ripping out from your chest as the head of Valko’s cock wedges against your G-spot perfectly.

Practically growling when feeling your walls clench around him, “F-fuck—she’s perfect—nngh!”

“Isn't she?”

Valko’s thrusts are deep and intentional, his face burying back into the crook of your neck. After last time, he continued to do exactly what Zayne suggested—right at the end, tilt your hips up. You’re putty in his arms, moaning incessantly while trying to fumble with Zayne’s belt. He brushes your hand off, doing the task himself.

“V-Valko?”

He speaks against your neck, “Nngh—yes, pup?”

“Do me a f-favor, hm?” Not stopping the torque of his hips once, he pulls his face out from your neck—out from inhaling as much of your scent as he can. You release Zayne’s tie and hold your right hand between the two of you, “Lick m-my hand for me, yeah?”

Without a second thought, his teeth are sinking into the bottom edge of your palm before his tongue is running a long, striped lick up the entire length of your palm, and all the way up to your fingertips. Before you can pull away, he takes a few of your fingers into his mouth, sucking until you’re both moaning—eyes locked.

When he releases your fingers from his mouth, “T-thank you—nngh—good boy.” With a small smile that quickly breaks into a face full of pleasure, his brows knitted, he puts his face right back into the left side of your neck—never once having stopped his thrusting into your needy cunt.

Right beside you, you turn your gaze toward Zayne, his eyes flat in annoyance, already knowing your intentions. “Your punishment is now—o-oh—” you wrap your hand slick with Valko’s saliva around his hard cock, “mmm—you really are the biggest brat, huh?”

Groaning as you start to stroke him, he pushes forward until his mouth is on your neck again. With panting breaths, Zayne’s mouth ends up right near your ear again, “So naughty, you want him to cum inside you and me to cum on you, is that it?”

“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.  

୭⋆˚⊹𐂯 All work belongs to only ME, jadestone2. Translating, plagiarism, copying, posting on another website, claiming as your work will NOT be tolerated, instant block‧˚꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ