Yunjie's spicy corner

you were standing in the fluorescent-lit purgatory of the 24/7 convenience store, a basket hanging from your elbow with an xl pack of condoms already inside.

“what else, what else…”

the air conditioning was too cold, raising goosebumps on your arms, brushing over the sprinkle of scales already adorning your skin. the cool air was combatting the warmth from the outside, but there was a deeper heat slowly coiling low in your belly, pulsing harder and harder, overtaking your very being quietly — a heat that couldn’t be tamed by the artificiality of the cooling device.

you’ve been feeling it for hours. the telltale thrum, the hypersensitivity of your skin, the way your gums ache faintly where your fangs wanted to push through.

ebb day is tomorrow. officially.

you still have a few hours to prepare.

your phone unexpectedly buzzed against your skin, a frantic, continuous tremor that has you fumbling for it. rafayel’s name light up the screen, a silly picture of him trembling together with the vibrations.

you swiped to answer, a teasing remark already on your lips.

“if you’re calling to back out–”

“please.” his voice cut you off, and it sounded wrong. it was not the smooth, sultry baritone he usually wielded like a weapon, articulating witty remarks at your expense. it was breathless, strained, cracking at the edges. “please, come over.”

you froze between aisles, your hand tightening on the phone. “rafayel?”

“i need you.” a low, fractured whine escaped him, and the needy sound went straight to your core, igniting the latent heat into a sudden, roaring blaze. “it’s… it’s early. it’s so early. i thought i had more time but it’s… i need you now.”

you could picture him too clearly.

at his seaside manor, in the vast, luxurious bedroom, with the curtains wide open, welcoming the full moon. rafayel, welcoming you, sprawled on his massive bed, his pale skin flushed and beaded with sweat, his hair a disheveled mess of purple.

you imagined him grasping his phone with a trembling hand, spotted with scales, his pupils blown wide, his lips parted in gasps.

fangs peeking through oh so beautifully.

“i’m at the store.” you said, your voice coming out rougher than you intended, your own state suddenly worsening due to rafayel’s intervention. “i’m getting the things. i’ll be there after checkout–”

“no.” he gasped immediately, and the desperation in his voice was loud, a hook that sunk into your chest and pulled you like a fish out of waters. “too long. ugh– i can’t– please. i can’t wait anymore. i feel like i’m burning up. we have everything here, so...”

“i need you. please, please, just ahhhh– come here.”

the plea was a whisper, broken and sweet, and that did it for you. you’ve always been weak for him. in this human form, in your true one, it didn’t matter; he had you wrapped around his pinky finger since you were children, even if he didn’t always know it.

“raf…”

you wanted to say something stubborn, to remind him that you were buying the very supplies he’ll be grateful for later, but another whimper came through the line, and your resolve crumbled to the ground.

“fine.” you heard yourself say, already turning and abandoning your basket on a shelf, condoms and all. “i’m coming right now. stay on the line.”

he let out a soft, relieved sound, and you could’ve sworn a sloshing noise accompanied his tune. “okay. f–fuck– okay.”

you left the store at a near-jog, the warm night air hitting your flushed cheeks.

the moon was almost up, a perfect, luminous circle in the sky, yet too bright, too full. it made your blood sing, your skin prickling with more and more clusters of scales.

you could still hear rafayel’s breathing on the other end of the line, quick and uneven, punctuated by tiny, swallowed sounds that he’s probably trying to hide.

that, and low, wet sounds — most likely his hand moving lazily up and down his stiff cock.

“tell me how you’re feeling.” you said as you slid into your car, your hand steady on the wheel even as everything inside you was starting to shake.

you have to keep your composure for just a little longer.

you also have to keep rafayel in check and make sure he doesn’t tip over.

“hot.” he breathed into the phone. “everything’s s–shit– too hot. my clothes… i took them off already. i’m just in the sheets. i nghnn– keep thinking about your hands.” his voice dropped, becoming that familiar, teasing cadence even through the haze of the heat.

“you have such nice hands. so soft– ngh– i keep thinking about them on ahh– me. groping me, pinning me down. do you think you can do that?”

your fingers tightened on the steering wheel, your knuckles whitening at his request. “rafayel.”

“i want you to.” he continued, his voice a low, needy murmur. the sticky sounds raised in intensity, no longer just background noise. “i need you so bad. i need you on top of me, baby.”

you pushed the accelerator harder, running a stop sign you didn’t even register. the streets blurred under your hazy vision, the city lights smearing into streaks of color. the heat inside you was building up with every word of his, with every little gasp and hitch of his breath.

rafayel was doing a phenomenal job at riling you up.

“what are you thinking about?” he asked all of a sudden, his voice a silken thread that woke you up. “are you thinking about me?”

“yes.” you admitted bluntly, the word torn from you without much effort.

“nhgh… t–tell me, baby.”

“the way you look when you’re between my thighs.” your voice was steady, booming from the speakers of his phone, but your hands were shuddering now. fingernails threatening to elongate into monstrously sharp claws. “the way you eat me out so good.”

he groaned, a breathless, shattered sound, and his hand sped up. the wetness staining his cock was palpable, the sound harsh yet delicate. “f–fuck yeah, i wanna taste your cunt so bad.”

a pause, then his voice murmured a confession once more. “i need to bury my face in you. i need to smell you. ahhhh– bet you’re drenched already, can almost s–sniff it from here.”

he was right. since the beginning of your conversation, the flimsy material of your panties was nothing but sticky. each and every request of his, delving into his nastiest wishes, generated more gooey arousal, effectively coating your panties in a generous amount of slick.

it also did not help that you were a lemurian, normally producing more slick than a mere human.

thankfully, you were pulling through the gates of his estate, the tires of your car crunching on the gravel driveway. you didn’t even bother parking properly — just killed the engine and eft the car where it stopped.

“i’m here.” you said into the phone, your legs carrying you up the front steps without waiting for another invite.

you swung the door open without a second thought.

rafayel was standing at the end of the hallway, and the sight of him made your clit throb.

he was fully naked, his skin gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat, his hair plastered to his temples. his chest was heaving, his pupils so dilated that his irises were reduced to thin rings of purple. but it was the scales that caught your attention — a scattering of iridescent, pearl-white scales along his cheekbones, down his neck, across his shoulders.

painting his skin, lower and lower.

going beyond the base of his aching cock.

the scales shimmered in the moonlight, catching the light like tiny mirrors.

“baby!” his eyes found yours, and he smiled — a beautiful, unhinged grin, all sharp teeth and raw need. “you came.” he breathed, relieved, taking wobbly steps towards you.

he was deeply affected by the rising full moon, hands jumping away from his sides and searching for support onto the walls.

you were soon to be deeply affected as well as your nostrils inhaled the pheromones dominating the entire mansion: the smell was terrifically strong, a pungent odor that lulled you towards primal desires. you almost stumbled backward from the powerful aroma, palm shooting up and covering the bottom half of your face in an attempt to protect your senses.

“f–fuck, the smell…”

you needed to remain levelheaded.

you needed to remain the rational one, since rafayel was clearly indulging fully in the effects of the moon.

but it was hard. you could already feel your fans poking through your gums, could already sense the tremble in your body as rafayel caught up to you.

your entire being was calling for him, just like his own called for you.

his quivering hands clawed at your dress, pulling you fully inside, the door slamming shut behind you two and effectively trapping you in his den. taking advantage of the defensive stance you took, he manhandled you against the closest wall, caging you perfectly, his body a line of burning heat against yours.

“ah, ah, ah, you…” his face instantly found your neck, burying itself in the seductive dip between your throat and shoulder. and, with a loud whiff, rafayel inhaled your own tumbling pheromones. “ahhh– smell so fucking good.”

he did not stop at that, nuzzling further into your skin, dragging the tip of his nose up towards your pulse point, punctuating the spot right behind your ear. with that, he managed to caress a patch of sensitive scales, eliciting a moan out of your hidden lips, forcing your palm to abandon its post to tangle in his messy locks.

“baby, please, pull ugh– my hair, please.” he started to beg as he felt your fingers latch onto the roots of his hair, body curving into yours more and more.

his legs snuck their way between your own, parting your thighs and allowing his knee to dip into the material of your dress and make contact with your clothed pussy. his arms flew away too, finally taking hold of your torso and putting you into a needy embrace.

“raf, i–”

your voice echoed in his ears, blessing him with the delicious shudder of your tone. but something was wrong, he slowly realized between his hazy thoughts — you have yet to make your move, you have yet to show the same neediness he has been carrying for hours.

“i–is something wrong? no, please, baby…”

he removed his face from your neck, abandoning his mission to devour your scent gland in favor of discovering what was holding you back. a strong feeling of anxiety shook his entire body, and memories of abandonment flashed between his obscene fantasies.

changing the atmosphere entirely.

“go on, raf, it’s okay–”

“n–no.”

you couldn’t resist him, especially not now.

he decided to perch his head on your chest, entire body slouched over your own, and look up at you with his lust-filled orbits. the pout on his lips was dangerous, accessorized by his long and sharp fangs. his legs were now practically glued to yours… and you could feel his heavy cock pressing against your thigh.

“do you not want me, baby?”

oh, he was gonna be the death of you.

“raf, someone h–ngh–as to be rational, i can’t give into pleas–”

“we will be careful, like always…” he cut you off enthusiastically, tightening his hold on your midriff to block any kind of escape. worse, he dipped his face lower into your chest, pressing right against your exposed sternum… and sticking his tongue out to taste your sweaty skin.

“rafayel.” you warned through gritted teeth, gripping the base of his scalp and pulling his head back. but he was ready for such an action, simply letting out more length of his monstrous tongue and continuing his perverse ministration across the peaks of your breasts.

“i k–know what will help!” he chirped between licks, and the sensation of his rough, elongated tongue tracing the delicate flesh of your chest made your resolve shake.

you tried to hold firm, to remember the reasons why someone needed to stay level-headed, but he was a master of persuasion: his hands, which had been so needy and clammy, slid down your hips with a slow, teasing pace. and he stopped when he reached the fabric of your short skirt, fingers twitching at the hem.

“just a taste.” he whispered, long tongue retracting from your skin to wet his lips. “i ugh– to taste your pussy, baby. please.”

his voice was a raspy, desperate plea, and the sight of his body — the way he pressed himself against you, precum wetting the ends of your dress — broke something in you. you were supposed to be the rational one, but the pheromones were a thick haze in your lungs, intoxicating your very being.

your own body betrayed you, the ache between your thighs becoming a pulsing, insistent throb. your firm grip on his hair lessened, hand guiding his head unconsciously down your body, moving him in line with your center.

“ah– j–just a bit...” you breathed, your voice shaking now. “but then we m–”

move to the bedroom — he didn’t let you finish.

a submissive, relieved groan escaped him, and he was already sliding down your body. his bare knees hit the floor with a sharp thud, but he didn’t flinch. you tried to steady yourself, but rafayel had other plans — hiking your right leg up his shoulder, spreading you wide open for him. and you were taken by surprise, fingers curling and pushing his head around from the sudden movement.

“f–fuck yeah.”

he let out a sharp, encouraging moan against your exposed thigh, and you felt his lips press a wet kiss on the newly exposed patch of skin of your knee.

his hands shoot up, scattering the hem of your dress. he pushed the material up around your waist, silently prompting you to hold it down and away from him. the cool air of the hallway licked at your exposed thighs, prickling at your scale-scattered skin.

his gaze dropped, and he stared at the sight before him, cock twitching between his bent legs. the wet spot on your panties was dark and obscene, the cotton perfectly clinging to the shape of your pussy. you were absolutely soaked through, arousal escaping the comfort of your underwear in order to stain your inner thighs.

the rims around his blown-out pupils turned a bright blue, and a devouring hunger flashed across his features.

“oh, my baby.” he breathed, the words almost a whimper. “you’re s–so wet for me. i bet it h–hurts so much.”

he didn’t wait for an actual answer as he leaned forward to thoroughly inspect you. his nose pressed into the damp fabric, and he inhaled deeply, a tremble running through his body as he feasted on your scent. he nuzzled against the soaked cotton, his sharp fangs grazing your sensitive flesh through the thin barrier, and your knees nearly buckled.

your hand forced his head deeper instead of pulling it away, a silent surrender to the powers of the moon.

he took the signal with a groan of satisfaction. his tongue snaked out, long and monstrous, and he dragged the wide, flat of it across the dark spot. he licked slowly, savoring you through the fabric, his eyes rolling back from the aroma.

“you ahh– s’ good.” he mumbled against the fabric, his voice muffled by the fabric and his groans.

but he needed more than just soaked panties. so, with a swipe of his tongue, he wrapped the length twice around the gusset of your panties, tugging the material downwards. you felt the wet cotton drag along your sensitive flesh as it was removed, exposing your cunt entirely to his burning gaze.

“r–raf, please.”

he saw everything: your wet, swollen flesh glistened in the dim light, your clit engorged and peeking out from its hood. a fresh glob of your arousal slid down your inner thigh, and his adam’s apple bobbed at the bodily reaction.

“babyyy…” his breathing hitched, and he slowed down, his entire being focused on the sight and scent of you. “look at you.” he muttered, his voice heavy by lust. “so beautiful, so mesmerizing.”

and before you could form a response, he dived in. his lips glued onto you, and his tongue — still a long, monstruous muscle — latched onto your entire cunt. he licked a wide, flat stroke from your oozing entrance to your pulsing clit, and the feeling of his wet mouth against your slick flesh made you whine.

he did it again, and again, building a rhythm that was ruining you from the inside out. he was starved, licking and sucking and slurping you like an intoxicated man who knew no other flavour.

“rafayel, r–fa–yel!”

you threw your head back, the wall cold against your skull, as you fought for composure. but it was a losing battle: his mouth was too skilled, too curious to discover your pussy. he found every sensitive nerve with the tip of his tongue, swirling around your clit until you were seeing stars, then dropping down to probe at your entrance.

licking up the streams of your juices like they were the only source of water in the world.

you made the mistake of looking down at him. he was on his knees before you, his body trembling with the effort of restraint and desire. his eyes were heavy-lidded, focused solely on his task, and his gills —delicate, slit-like openings on his neck — fluttered slightly as he breathed through them, allowing him to remain glued to you without a pause for air.

he was relentless, dedicated.

he needed you to tip over into your animalistic side.

“i– oh, fuck–”

your voice cracked and morphed into a high, unhinged moan as he circled his tongue around your clit, wrapping it tightly with its length while he sucked the bundle of nerves with his lips. the tip of his tongue dipped lower treacherously, pushing against your greedy hole and effectively overflowing your mushy brain with pleasure.  

your hips jerked forward of their own accord, and you felt your fingers drag through his hair, pulling him even tighter against you, demanding more even as you were overwhelmed.

“hmhmm– ngh–” he moaned into you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your pelvis.

his hands slid up your thighs, thumbs spreading your lips wider, giving him unrestricted access to every inch of your center. he worked on you with a desperate, submissive fervor, eating you out as if his existence depended on your pleasure.

and it was working. the feeling built and built in your tummy, a coil of heat tightened and tightened with every flick of his tongue.

“al’st.” he gasped, pulling away just enough to see the defeat in your eyes. his lips and chin were shining with your wetness, his sharp teeth shimmering as he smiled at you. “cum in my mouth, please.”

your resolve had shattered the moment his mouth had made contact. so you just nodded frantically, a sobbing whine escaping your lips, and he leaped at the signal. his mouth descended again with renewed vigor, long tongue focusing on your engorged bud. he sucked hard, creating a devastating pressure, while he simultaneously probed the back of his tongue against your entrance, massaging the contracting muscles.

“ah, i’m–”

you came with a cry that echoed down the empty hallway, your body arching off the wall as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through you. your hand forced his face deeper into you, and he drank everything, his moans of ecstasy vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he swallowed your release.

and he didn’t stop. he kept licking, easing you through the shaking aftermath, his eyes locked on your trembling form with a satisfied, devouring gleam.

“ah, a–ah, ah.”

when you finally opened your eyes, you had a good look at his needy, disheveled face, still resting between your thighs. his lips and chin were slick with you, his long tongue still lazily licking at your flesh as if he couldn’t bear to lose the taste. his gills fluttered rapidly, and he smiled up at you — temporary satiated by your pussy.

… or so you thought.

“g–go again?” he pleaded, his voice high-pitched and weak. “please, please, please, ple–”

and you knew why he was begging so arduously: gazing downwards at the floor, you soon realized that he also spilled his release, most likely pushed over the edge by your own orgasm. the floorboards were covered in a thick layer of cum, white and sticky substance staining his thigh and your own resting foot.

 “please, baby, one more time– i love your pussy, i–”

you were still trembling from your own climax, chest heaving, gills fluttering on the sides of your neck. but something in his desperate, submissive tone made you sit up straighter, an ounce of rationality still guiding you. yeah, you felt the wetness between your thighs, the echo of his tongue still a pulsing memory, but you knew that you were far from satiated.

the moon’s pull was still in your bones, and his pheromones were a thick haze in the air.

you reached down, took a handful of his wet hair, and pulled his face away from your cunt. the slick was thick, mixed with his saliva, and it created a strong, sticky bridge between his lips and your nether ones.

“m–move…” you commanded, your voice coming out fragmented, tainted by your orgasm and the heat. “bedroom, now.”

his eyes flashed with relief, and he nodded so quickly that his locks flipped against his temples. “yes– yes, baby, anything.” with obedient, trembling hands, he pushed himself up from his knees, his muscular thighs quivering as he rose. he was still weeping, his cock stiff and red, the tip glistening with his own release.

but he made no move to wipe it away, fixated on obtaining you.

before you could step forward, he enveloped you in his arms, both hands sliding under your knees and lifting you as if you were made of feathers. your legs latched around his hips on instinct, your dress riding up to your waist, your naked slick pussy pressing against his abs. he took off with long, hurried steps, his legs no longer staggering.

“c’mere.”

his mouth was on yours before you could process his words.

“so ngh– good t’ me.” he mumbled against your lips, his tongue sharing your aroma. “so beautiful, so perfect– i’m ugh– not deserving.” he kissed you with a wide, open mouth, his sharp fangs grazing your lower lip as he pushed your dress higher with each push.

his words were a stream of subservient praises — celebrating your benevolence in assisting him with his heat — as he carried you through the living room and into the wide, disheveled bedroom. and his mouth never stopped; he fully slurped at your lips, devouring your mouth with the same fervor he ate your pussy.

he loved to caress your fangs with his tongue, grunting between lick as you were finally showing signs of turning.

“ah, ah…”

when he reached the giant bed, he turned and sat down on it, his back leaning against the headboard with a soft thud. he kept you on his lap, your knees straddling his hips, your soaked cunt hovering just above his twitching, dripping cock. his hands were instantly on your body tugging away at the dress, removing it from your body and letting your scale-splotched skin to bask in the full moon.

his sharp digits took a hold of your full hips, nails digging into the soft flesh as he tried to lower your body onto his.

“please, baby.” he breathed, his hips rolling upwards on instinct, his bare cock sliding against your wet slit. “i need to feel you around me– please, i fuck–”

you reached around, your hand finding the nightstand and its drawer, your fingers closing around a square packet. as you were retrieving it, his hands worked all over you, groping your waist, your tits, your thighs with a restless, ravenous need. his cock was jumping against your thigh with each squish of your body, impatient to ease into you.

“let m–me help.” he whispered as he saw you struggle. but you shook your head, at last ripping the packet open with your fangs.

the image made him groan — he loved when you used those fangs.

he wished you’d use them on him.

as you rolled the condom down his length with steady hand, your palm gliding over the latex as you smoothed it down the veiny cock, he gasped, his head throwing back against the headboard, his hips pushing up into your fist.

“fuck– baby, your hand, it’s ngh– so good­, i’m gonna–” his words devolved into a strangled moan as you gave him a last, twisting stroke at the base, and he had to clench his jaw to keep from cumming right then.

his gills fluttered rapidly, and his hands clawed at the sheets, his white-knuckled grip the only thing keeping him grounded.

you left him hanging on the edge for a sweet moment, your eyes locked on his trembling stomach and the way his scales shimmered harder. then, with a slow movement, you raised yourself up on your knees, aligned the tip of his cock with your soaked entrance, and slowly began to sink down.

the sensation was electric. his length slid inside you in a smooth, velvety thrust, the latex making it easy but no less intense. you felt him stretch you, push past your greedy muscles that spasmed around him, and you gasped at the fullness. he moaned your name, vibrating against your chest as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder.

“so fucking tight– so wet–.”

“ah, raf, that’s mhm–”

you took a moment to adjust, to feel him settle deep inside you, to take in the way his tip was kissing your cervix. then you began to move — slow rolls of your hips, lifting and sinking, pulling him out until only the tip remained, then sliding back down to the hilt. your clit slapped deliciously against his muscles, and so did his heavy balls against your behind.

his hands flew to your hips again, guiding you, but he never tried to take control; he merely held you, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin of your hips with reverence.

“yes, that’s ngh– it, use me.” he implored, his voice breaking into high whinse as you picked up the pace. you rolled your hips in a figure eight, harshly grinding against him at the bottom, and his lips parted on a silent scream. “oh, oh fuck, right there, please, baby–”

you leaned forward, lips bitten, your palms braced against his chest, and you rode him with a ferocious need. every stroke was accompanied by his gasps, the sharp, slutty breaths strung together with your own traitorous ones into a rhythmic chant.

“so good, so good, i’m– please, please, let me cum inside, i beg you–”

his words were slurred, mind so thick with lust he forgot he had a condom on. but he was attentive to you, never taking his eyes off your bouncing body. when you sped up, your thighs burning with the effort, your clit brushing against his pubic bone with every downward thrust, his head lolled to the side in pleasure.

the sensation was heaven for you too: the way his cock hit that sweet spot inside you, vein pulsing just the right way against your walls, the way his hands trembled as they held you, the way his moans sounded like prayers…

“cum for me.” you allowed, your voice raspy and commanding, and that was all he needed.

with a broken whine, he threw his head back, his spine arching off the headboard as he spilled into the condom, his hips jerking up into you with ragged, uncontrollable spasms. his mouth opened in a silent shout and his hands clawed so hard into your hips you knew they would leave bruises.

the sight of him cumming, his face stretched in ecstasy, pushed you over the edge. you rode him through it all, your second climax building and building until it broke. your inner muscles clenching around him as you shuddered through your release.

he whimpered into the air like a mantra: “thank you, thank you, thank you–”.

after a few more seconds, you finally slowed down. with your gills working overtime, your body washed in sparkling sweat, you remained motionless, straddled over him. his aching cock was still inside you, spent once more that night.

but ebb day had just commenced, and a mere fuck was not the solution.

you were still trembling, his overstimulated cock still twitching inside you, when he shifted his hips upwards — a lazy, circular rock which sent a sharp spark through your oversensitive flesh. you whimpered, a needy tune that you hadn’t intended to let out; the sudden trust took you by surprise, hitting your walls in a way that made your whole being shiver.

he did it again, this time with a sharper thrust, his strong hands pushing you down into his cock, and your palms flattened against his chest in a vain attempt to put some distance between the two of you.

“raf– wait, slow d–ah–own a bit.” you gasped, your voice cracking, the overstimulation short circuiting your brain. “i need a second–”

his laugh was low and mean, a strong contrast to the high-pitched moans he freely let out a few minutes ago.

“slow down? why? you’re still aching for more.” his hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs with a brutal firmness. his expression was no longer kind and pliant, the barely-there purple of his orbs changing into a blinding sapphire color.

he tutted at your scrunching face, digging his fingers harder into your skin and dragging you forth against his chest. “no, no, baby. i don’t like that.”

“raf?”

“you’re not gonna fight what you are. you’re a lemurian in heat, just like me… giving in is not a choice.”

before you could respond, he twisted out of you with a squelching, wet pop and shoved you forward onto the sheets. you tumbled onto the mattress, hands and knees catching you as he positioned you around like a puppet. his palm pressed the small of your back, forcing your spine into a beautiful arch, your face pressed into the pillows.

it happened in a blink of an eye, your body going pliant and obeying the desires of the man behind you. you could no longer see him, with your head buried in his cushions, but you could hear the shift of his weight as he knelt behind you, the heat of his body washing over your exposed skin.

shit, he was taking a dominant stance now — the predator inside him most likely no longer pleased by your ‘controlled’ approach to ebb day.

but you had to stay strong. you had to stop him from fulfilling the mating ritual since you were not his beloved. you had to–

“look at you.” he purred, his voice dripping with condescension, blue eyes taking in the sight before him: you, face down, ass up, supple flesh drenched and quivering with arousal. “so fucking wet… and you still have the nerve to tell me to slow down. pathetic.”

his fingers traced down your curved spine, pausing at the swell of your ass. then down to your used hole. with delicate fingers, he touched the gaping rim of the condom still lodged inside you, dragging it slightly out of you. you flinched, back arching even more, hips pushing into his touch unconsciously.

“a condom too… ruining all the fun.” he clicked his tongue, low and mean, but chose to abandon the rubber for now. he decided to reach around to find your clit, his skilled thumb pressing against it with just enough pressure to make you tremble into the sheets.

“you think you’re in charge, hm? you’re nothing but a slutty little whore who needs to be reminded of her place.”

he circled his thumb over your swollen bud, slow and torturous, while his other hand kept you pinned down. you whined, your hips pushing back instinctively, seeking more friction, but he was having none of it: he smacked your ass hard, the sharp slap echoing in the room as it landed on your flesh.

“don’t you dare act on your urges now. you’ll get what i give you, when i give it.” he warned as he increased the pressure on your clit, his movements forming teasing figure eights. you writhed against the sheets, tried to push back and speed him up, but his hand on your spine kept you arched and immobile.

“p–please.” you whined, your voice pitching high, now mirroring the state he was previously in— flushed face, dilated pupils, consumed by the urge to be used. “raf, i need–”

“you need to shut up and take what’s given.” he cut you off, his tone cold and superior. he removed his thumb without warning, and you whimpered in loss, eyes bubbling with tears from his cruelness. “see? that’s what you get for being impatient. now be a good girl and wait.”

wait?

for what?

he reached down, fingers curling around the rim of the condom still inside you. with a slow, torturous pull, he removed it. the sensation of the latex sliding out making you shiver, hole gaping in dissatisfaction. your cunt was practically begging for the rubber to return, for something to be inside it once more.

“greedy pussy.”

he pinched the tip of the condom, dangling it above your stinging flesh, and, with his thumb and index finger, he pressed and dragged out... letting the thick, white semen spill all across your ass. throwing the empty rubber away, he then smeared his cum over your cheeks with a rough, possessive stroke, making sure to dip his fingers over your asshole and the perineum.

the warm, sticky sensation made you cry out, and he laughed again.

“you like that, don’t you? being marked with my cum?” he rubbed the cum lower, into your slit, working it into your wet folds until you were dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his seed. “you were so dumb for putting on the condom.”

and with that vitriolic remark, he positioned himself behind you once more, the mushroom head of his engorged cock prodding at your slutty entrance. he rubbed it up and down, teasing the flesh without pushing in, controlling his urge to breed you for the sake of hearing you beg.

and you began to sob, pleas leaving your bitten lips with ease.

“p–please, raf, just fuck me, i need it so bad, please–”

“aww, look at you now — beg harder.” he purred, his tip still tracing slow circles over your hungry hole.

“please! please, rafayel, i beg you, just put it in, i’ll be good, just fuck me–”

“there it is.” he smirked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “but oh, i’m sorry, baby– i think we’re out of condoms. what a shame.” his tone was condescending, and he rolled his hips just enough to press the head inside.

before pulling back. “i can’t–”

“i don’t care.” you babbled, your mind now a blur of heat and hunger. your previous carefulness was entirely wiped by your animalistic desire to be mounted and taken by rafayel. “j–just do it, fuck me raw! i need your ugh– cock inside me, please, raf–”

“finally.”

without other comments, he thrusted in one sharp, brutal motion. you screamed, but not in pain — the overwhelming sensation of being so completely filled without any barrier felt heavenly. his hard cock, littered with scales, plowed into your soaked cunt until his hips smacked against your ass, his balls swaying against your swollen clit.

“yes.” he groaned, his voice now raspy with his own need. “this is where you belong: spread open for me, taking my cock like the cockslut that you are.” he pulled out slowly, then slammed back in, the squelch of your juices and his cum making a loud, obscene sound.

“fuck, you’re so warm, so wet, so fucking good.”

he set a ferocious pace, his hips jutting into you with the starved intensity of an animal in rut. each thrust hit that spot inside you, making your spine curve into him more and more. and you were kept in that deep arch by his strong arms, your voice reduced to a stream of moans and whines as it got drowned out by the pillows.

“ngh– baby, your pussy is squeezing me so tight.” he grunted, his hand snaking forward to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your head back. “greedy girl, sucking me ah–  so hard.”

“tell me you’re mine. tell me this is what you wanted.”

“‘m y’rs.” you gasped, the words tumbling out in stutters as you squeezed around his rugged scales. “gods, yes, fuck me harder, please–”

he released your hair with a satisfied moan and doubled his efforts, his strokes becoming messy and unhinged. he was so deep inside you that you could feel his cock throbbing against your walls, the tip kissing your cervix with every slam. his length seemed to grow inside you, expanding and stretching your sensitive walls in all dimensions.

you were completely affected by ebb day now, your pleasure so strong you could no longer separate where your being ended and his began.

but the night has just begun, and so did rafayel.

you felt it before you saw it: a second pressure, a new sensation against the flesh of your ass. another cock, thicker and more brutal in its proportions, had emerged from the base of his first and sprung upwards, settling directly between the sweaty valley of your cheeks.

it was a monstrous thing, wet with its own pre-cum, rocking against your asshole in tune with his other cock.

“is that– ugh–”

with every slam of his hips into your soaked cunt, this second cock rubbed relentlessly against your tight, untouched asshole. the friction was addicting, a blunt force that glided over the twitching rim of your second hole with every forward push.

you could feel the ridges of it, the scales that dragged across your delicate skin, and it made your eyes roll back from the pleasure.

“you feel that, baby?” he grunted into your ear, his voice a condescending purr. “my other cock, itching to breed that pussy too. you’re so fucking soaked, i am sure it will ngh– slip right in.”

you couldn’t respond. you were beyond speech, your face buried in the sheets, your voice reduced to a high, siren-like whine that filled the room.

the way his second cock humped against your asshole, the way his first cock was still plunging into your cunt — it was a sensory overload that threatened to spill all over. you clenched around him, trying to drag him deeper, and he groaned, leaning over your arched body.

“can’t even fuckin’ answer me.” he snarled, his pace slowing for a moment as he leaned down, lowering his sweaty chest against your back.

his sharp mouth found the juncture of your neck and shoulder, your pulse point, and he opened his jaw wide. his fangs grazed your flesh, a heated, demanding pressure falling over your skin.

he was…

“you want this so badly, don’t you? you want me to claim every hole.”

going to bite. he was going to mark you as his mate.

panic lashed through the fog of your lust. you were not lovers: you had agreed to this arrangement solely to protect his future beloved from the primality of the lemurian heat. so your arm shot up before you could think it over, your forearm wedging itself between his lips and your neck just as his jaws clamped down.

“ah.”

his fangs sink into your flesh with a wet, ripping sound. the pain was sharp and immediate, a burning sensation that made you scream into the pillows. you felt the hot trickle of blood cascade down your arm, and he let out a surprised, muffled groan around your limb.

his cock slid out of you during the chaos, leaving you suddenly empty and weak.

“n–no!” you cried, your voice a shaky mess of pleasure and desperation. “not that! rafayel, we aren’t– we’re not lovers! you can’t mark me like this. you have to save yourself for your chosen one, you know that.”

he froze — he stayed still, his fangs still embedded in your forearm, his breath hot against the wound. then, slowly, he released you. his jaw unclamped, and he licked the blood from his lips with a slow, seductive swipe of his tongue. but his eyes had changed. the lust was still there, but now it was underlaid with something far more dangerous: a cold, rageful possessiveness.

“you dare...” he said, his voice dropping to a level of condescending fury that made you shiver. “you dare tell me who to save myself for? you dare speak of a ‘chosen one’ when you’re the only one who has ever made me feel this?”

before you could respond, he moved with unnatural speed. his hands gripped your hips and with a brutal twist, he flipped you over like you were no more than a rag doll. you landed on your back, the sheets cold and damp against your sweaty skin. he was on top of you in an instant, his legs knocking yours apart as he settled his weight between your thighs.

his first cock pressed against your soaked entrance, and his second one rested heavily against your clit, both of them drenched in bodily fluids.

“you foolish woman.” he snarled, leaning down so his face was inches from yours. his eyes were gleaming blue, his scales catching the light like the facets of a gem. “there is no other chosen one. there is only you. you’re the one i want. you’re the one my body and my soul demands.”

“r–raf?”

“and i will not be denied.”

he thrusted forward, sheathing his bottom cock inside you in one single, devastating move. you were so wet, so inviting; there was no resistance, only a lewd, obscene squelch as your fluids started to froth at the juncture between your bodies.

you whined out a broken approval, and he groaned in triumph above you.

“that’s right.” he confirmed, rolling his hips harder and harder to pick up his previous pace. “your body knows the truth, even if your mouth lies. you’re mine.” he began to pump into you, his strokes sharp and possessive as he, once more, descended closer to your face.

“you can beg all you want for a different fate, but you will never escape this. you will never escape me.”

and with that, he sealed his lips over yours.

your hands clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he pounded you into the mattress. your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing him deeper, traitorously consenting to his declaration even as your mind spun with lust. he leaned forward more and more, trapping you under his massive frame, and he kissed you brutally, tangling his long tongue with your and forcing you to taste your own blood.

“say it out loud.” he demanded against your mouth, his pace never faltering, his mouth carefully traversing lower to your pulse point again. “say you’re mine. say it and i will fully take you, my mate.”

“i’m yours!” you wailed, the words torn from your very soul as his fangs scratched your skin in warning. “i’m yours, rafayel! please, just don’t stop, don’t you dare stop–”

a prideful, predatory grin spread across his features. he slowed his pace as his jaw opened once more, trying to time his movements to offer you the most intense pleasure. pulling out almost all the way, his tip snagging onto your hole, he stuck out his tongue to wet your skin as his hand lowered to his cocks… pressing his second length snug to his other and preparing it for penetration.

“ngh– raf– ah–”

as he plunged his fangs into your neck, finally marking you as his mate by drawing blood, he also rutted both cocks into your hungry cunt. the immense quantities of arousal lubed everything, allowing his two dicks to press deep into your without much difficulty.

and his timing was perfect, getting you to orgasm with a perfect o on your lips as he rocked your whole world.

“that’s right.” he purred, moving his head to nuzzle at the bloody bite on your skin, licking the wound with soft strokes of his tongue. “you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”

and as he spoke, he picked up his pace once more, the slap of his balls against your skin filling the room, his resolve renewed. you were cushioned beneath him, a trembling mess, a willing partner to desire, and as he watched you fall apart beneath him — your eyes rolling back, your moans a constant chant — he too was pushed over the edge once more.

unlike last time, his thrusts stumbled into a rhythm that was clumsy but deep, as if he refusing to let go of you. unlike last time, you felt a swelling at your entrance, the way his top cock, the one that had been pressing against your clit moments ago, now grew in thickness.

the sensation was overwhelming. your walls were stretched further, and you could feel his cocks throbbing deep inside, ready to spill.

“breed.” he groaned against your neck, lips bloody, voice raspy. “let me fill you. let me breed your sweet cunt.”

and he did.

his top cock began to inflate at the base, the tissue swelling into a something that locked him deep within you. you whimpered in pleasure as the first shiny, pearl-white ovoid passed through his urethra and into your hole —a smooth, rounded glob that stretched you to the fullest before it settled inside you.

then another, and another, and another. each one leaving a trail of warmth as it popped through his cock and deposited itself in deep inside you. his hands stopped flat against your stomach, to keep you from moving away, and he felt the bulge begin to rise.

the eggs were gathering together with his thick cum.

“yes, yes.” he murmured, his tone a mix of wonder and satisfaction, eyes glassy with lust. “so many eggs already. and there’s more for you.”

he kept pumping, each thrust squeezing another round egg into you, and with it came wave upon wave of thick, pearlescent cum that filled every remaining crevice. your tummy bulged more and more, the skin stretching tight until you could feel the weight of his eggs sinking low inside you. you were so full that you couldn’t tell what was cum and what was ovoid; you only knew that he was still pumping, still depositing, still claiming.

“r–rafayel, i w–will ugh– i can’t hold– nngh!”

your protests were swallowed by another orgasm as he rutted his final drops into you, the bottom cock twitching inside you as it added its own thick semen to the swelling pool. your tummy was now a pronounced curve, the skin taut and shiny, and you could feel each individual egg pressing against the walls of your tummy.

“yes.”

finally, he stilled, his body shaking with the last spasms of release. he remained inside you for a long moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath ragged and hot against your sweaty skin. then, with a small whine, he pulled out: first the bottom cock, then the top one, releasing the lock on your pussy. you felt a gush of warm cream follow him, and when you looked down, you saw the mess he had made of you.

your pussy was ruined, swollen, hole gaping as thick, white cum started to drool out in hefty treads, pooling on the sheets beneath you.

he moved down your body, his hands sliding over your blooming skin until they rested on your swollen belly. he pressed gently, and you felt the first egg pop out with an obscene sound. the smooth, pearly ovoid rolled out onto the sheet, shining with your combined juices. then another, and another, each one escaping as he pressed firmer, each one making you whine from overstimulation.

your tummy slowly deflated, but not all the eggs were out yet — you could still feel a few resting high inside, near your cervix.

“shh, i’ve got you.” he said, his voice suddenly soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the brutality from moments ago. he shifted his hand from your belly to your swollen clit, his fingers gliding through the wetness with good intent.

“you’re doing so well, baby. let me help the rest out.”

he began to rub circles around your hyper-sensitive bud, while his other hand pressed firmly on the top part of your pelvis. the overstimulation made you sob out, but his sweet expression (his soft, purple orbs, the blush on his face, the cute smile on his lips) kept you grounded.

“that’s it, sweet girl, let them out. you’re so brave for taking all of that. now just one more– yes, there it is.”

with a particularly deep press of his palm and a swirl of his thumb, the last egg got out with a sultry plop, rolling to join its siblings on the sheet. your body shuddered violently, another spasm of climax racing through you, but he never stopped the gentle ministrations of his hand.

he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your belly, his lips tracing your skin as you orgasm again into his palm.

“such a good girl.” he whispered against your skin, his tone full of adoration and gratitude. “you took everything so perfectly, my partner.” he lifted his head to look into your hazy eyes, and there was nothing but contentment in his gaze. “let’s rest for a bit.”

at last, he removed himself from between your legs, allowing you a moment of respite as he lounged next to you on the bed. cradling your spent form into a delicate side embrace, he guided your head onto his chest, petting your wet hair away from your face.

“my sweet baby.”

©pearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

only a little roughness lingers by the time he's gently opening the bedroom door - with his enhanced vision, he can comfortably make out where your sleeping form is under the duvet. he pads over, slipping under the covers, ready to pull you close, awaiting the moment where you wrap your arms around him in your sleep.

(it's his favourite thing, how you do it without thinking, your subconscious tugging you towards him just like how his pulls him to you.)

only, your arms are... occupied, it would seem.

a plushie. your round yellow birb plushie, nestled into your arms like it belongs there.

valko frowns, humming so low in the back of his throat that it sounds like a threat.

he reaches towards you, fingers sliding between your arm and the soft fabric, ready to prise it away.

only for you - traitor - to hum happily in your sleep and nuzzle the damned plushie closer into your chest.

he flexes and extends his fingers like he's readying his claws.

no. you'll be upset if he destroys it, and he certainly doesn't want that.

fine.

he scoops your body into his embrace, plushie and all (begrudgingly), and shoves his face into your neck, sniffing and kissing and nipping at the delicate skin. you squirm in your sleep, until you eventually wake up to the feeling of being thoroughly loved upon (and scented) by your wolfie.

"mmm... val, what're y'doin'?..." you murmur, shifting the plushie so it isn't obstructing you from hugging valko close instead, a clear upgrade. he visibly perks up; even in the darkness, it's like you can feel something in him shift to happiness from the sheer exhaustion of the preceding moments.

"my little wolf was neglecting me." his words come out teasing, muffled into your skin as he presses his nose into your neck. "not very nice of you, babe. i've been working so hard all evening, only to be replaced by a plushie."

"mm, maybe you should've come to bed sooner, then." you try to sound feisty, but it just exposes the truth - how badly you want him by your side, and how you hate sleeping with his side of the bed empty. then, you're shifting so you're sprawled top of him, and you plant a kiss on his cheek before tucking your head under his chin.

"looks like i need to do a little better next time 'round, then." he muses, his usual cockiness subdued a little by an affection that warms you to the bone. one hand comes to splay over your lower back in a loosely protective hold, while the other drapes over your waist, fingers kneading your soft skin.

"mhm." you agree. "shouldn't be workin' so late, val, should be here with me." your soft murmur is half a confession, but truthfully, it's nothing he didn't know; nothing he wasn't already acutely aware of, in the very fibres in his being, in the soul-tether that binds you to him.

"i know. i'm sorry." he says, voice low and achingly sincere. "tomorrow, baby. tomorrow, i'll be here. by your side. i promise."

𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑆𝑆.

He's folded you in half like you're made of silk, knees shoved up to your shoulders, the backs of your thighs pressed flush against his heaving chest and he just stares for a moment, amber eyes blown wide and dark, tracing the glossy, swollen mess of your cunt wrapped around his leaking length like it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "Look at that," he purrs, voice dripping with teasing awe, one calloused thumb reaching down to circle your puffy clit, smearing your slick across your belly just to watch you twitch, "taking all of me like a good little thing—fuck, you're so pretty when you're stuffed full," and then he rolls his hips, a deep, grinding circle that hits that spongy spot inside you and makes your vision white out, stars bursting behind your eyelids. His sharp canines graze your bottom lip, tugging at the plush flesh before he soothes it with a kittenish lick, all while his hips piston into you with deep, measured strokes that have the headboard creaking and the sheets pooling wet beneath you. "Eyes on me, pretty thing," he commands, but it comes out breathless, desperate, almost a plea, because he needs to watch you fall apart, needs to see those tears cling to your lashes. His Evol hums, cooling the silver cuffs that bind your wrists to the headboard, but his hands stay gentle, palms cradling your jaw, thumbs stroking your cheekbones like you're something sacred. "There she is—there's my girl," he coos, fucking into you deeper, slower, worshipping your gooey cunt and your kiss bitten lips, that scary wolf completely undone by the way your walls flutter around him, clinging and greedy, and he smiles, boyish and adoring, even as he wrecks you from the inside out.

𝐶𝛰𝑊𝐺𝐼𝑅𝐿 / 𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸 𝐶𝛰𝑊𝐺𝐼𝑅𝐿.

You're bouncing reverse in his lap, back plastered to his sweat-slicked chest, the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse office reflecting the lewd, glistening sight of his thick shaft disappearing into your drenched heat over and over again—and he's watching the glass, amber eyes half-lidded and starving, one massive hand splayed across your stomach while the other sneaks up to cup your jaw, turning your face so he can press messy, open-mouthed kisses to the corner of your lips. "C'mon, baby, use me," he slurs against your cheek, hips twitching up to meet your lazy, grinding descent, but his voice is needy, wrecked, that booming baritone cracking into a whimper when you clench around him, "don't stop—please don't stop—you feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me." And when you slow down, thighs burning, he whines, a high, pathetic sound that's so utterly unlike the terrifying Chairman who makes boardrooms tremble, and he wraps both arms around your middle, hugging you tight to his chest, burying his nose in your sweat-damp hair while his hips buck up into you with frantic, shallow thrusts. "You're mean," he pouts against your scalp, claws pricking just enough to sting at your waist, but he's kissing the spot right after, tongue lapping at the tiny beads of blood like an apology, "getting me all worked up and then—nngh—trying to tap out? Nah, sweetheart, you're gonna ride me until that pretty cunt of yours is raw, then you're gonna let me fill you up. Right, little pup? " He groans when you clench around him, seemingly in agreement, the sound breathless and warm, that feral, untamed beast completely surrendered to you, his throne, his home, his everything.

𝐴𝐺𝐴𝐼𝑁𝑆𝑇 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐿.

He's got you slammed against the cold, damp concrete of the abandoned warehouse, your legs locked high around his hips and his massive palms gripping the swell of your ass, fingers dimpling the soft flesh as he lifts you with complete ease, impales you on one brutal, all-consuming shove that has your head knocking back against the brick with a dull thud—but he's there in an instant, one hand cupping the back of your skull, cushioning the impact while his hips roll forward in a punishing, deep grind that punches a broken moan from your chest. "Couldn't even make it to the bed," he teases, sharp canines grazing the column of your throat, tongue lapping at your frantic pulse point while his tail wraps possessively around your thigh, keeping you spread wide and helpless against him, "got so worked up just lookin' at you in that skirt—gonna fuck you stupid right here, where anyone could walk in and see who you belong to." But yet, his voice wavers, cracks with affection, because he's grinning against your skin, that boyish, mischievous smile that makes him look nothing like the scary wolf who just tore through a dozen enemies. His hips piston into you with frantic, sloppy thrusts, the wet schlik schlik echoing off the walls, rain dripping through a broken skylight and mingling with the sweat trailing down his chest—and even as he fucks you ruthlessly, brutally, one arm stays locked around your waist, holding you flush to his body like you're the only anchor in a storm, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing you in with desperate little huffs. "Smell so scared and soaked," he murmurs, lips brushing your pulse and you whimper, "but you're safe, you're always safe with me, even when I'm bein' a monster—fuck, I love the way you squeeze me when I talk dirty," and he laughs, despite a whine curling around the sound, driving into you deeper, slower, meaner, kissing your tears away even as he paints your walls with his release.

𝑆𝑃𝛰𝛰𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺.

Moonlight spills through the blinds like liquid silver, painting his cherry hair in pale, ethereal streaks as he pulls you flush against his chest, your back curving into his broad, scarred torso like two puzzle pieces snapping together—and he sighs, a deep, throaty sound that's all warmth and no bite, his half-hard cock sliding through your slick, puffy folds from behind, nudging past your entrance with a slow, lazy push that has him whimpering against your nape. "Been thinkin' about this all day," he confesses, voice thick with sleep and adoration, one arm banded tight across your ribs while his other hand trails down your belly, fingers dipping to circle your swollen clit in languid, hypnotic patterns. Your back arches on instinct, curving to fit the shape of his shadow. He continues in a low rumble against your skin, murmuring between kisses, "Sitting in that boardroom, tryin' to sound smart, but all I could think about was coming home to this—to you—feeling you warm and wet and mine." His hips rock into you with slow, deep, worshipful thrusts, each one a gentle nudge that has you melting into the mattress, his tail curling possessively around your thigh, keeping you anchored to his every lazy roll, and he kisses your shoulder, your neck, the shell of your ear, a trail of soft, open-mouthed affection that makes your heart ache. "My good girl," he murmurs, canines grazing just soft enough to make you shiver, "my pretty, perfect, clingy little thing—can't even fuck you slow without wanna whine about how much I love you," He groans wetly against your skin, his hips stuttering into a deeper, needier rhythm, that big, scary wolf completely tamed, reduced to a sobbing, adoring mess who fucks you with all the tenderness in the world, whispering promises into your hair until the sun comes up.

One hundred forty-three rounds later, and you’ve finally won.

Every bulging, sweaty muscle strains as you laugh on top of Valko for the final lunge, pinning him by his throat and waist into the mats below.

“Haha, and that’s victory for me!”

He grumbles in response, pouting although you see the ghost of a smile curl against his lips. “Ya right. You tripped me, dirty little minx.”

You coo at his adorable sulking, “Big bad wolf can't handle a little bit of dirty play?” Pressing your forearm harder, you watch something dark flicker in Valko’s eyes as his breath stutters. “Don’t you know your enemies will be ready to exploit your every weakness?”

The room is filled with both of your ragged breathing, sweat dripping between your tanged bodies, undoubtedly soaking through your bra and shorts. The air sticks to you, hot and sticky.

Valko takes a deep inhale, chest rising under your palm, before going unnaturally still. The stillness of a predator ready to jump.

You tense, anticipating him to wrestle you off and begin the next match, and yet it never comes.

No. Instead, you’re met with the unmistakable feeling of something growing harder, larger, pushing up against your clothed ass.

The flush on your face is no longer just from exhaustion.

“Did you- are you—”

Valko’s whine cuts you off, his eyes screwed shut as if in horrible pain. “Don’t. Please.”

He’s trembling. Every hulking muscle under you straining as his enormous palms come up to cup your thighs, nails digging in.

“I just,” Valko lets out another whine, pitched and desperate, his amber eyes snapping open and begging up at you no better than a puppy would. “Ah shit, you’re so perfect. Fight perfect, smell perfect,” one broad hand goes to your ass, squeezing hard enough to pull a startled yelp from you, the sound shooting through him like another strike. “Feel perfect.”

Fuck.

Something about losing to you, about the ache blooming through his body where your blows had landed, the solid weight of you pinning him effortlessly into the worn training mats… perhaps it should have bruised his pride or made him fired up.

Instead, it leaves Valko fucking dizzy.

Your scent surrounds him, swallowed with every inhale Valko takes, intoxicating and cloying on his tongue as though he could taste you already. It’s sweet and a little spicy, like cardamom or amber, filling his brain with static as his every instinct narrows down on you and your body. To lay claim. To take.

He doesn't mean to keep nuzzling into your sweat-slicked body. One breath isn't enough, then another isn't either, every deeper pull filling his head with a pleasant, humming need that leaves less and less room for coherent thought.

Acceptance.

Need.

Mate.

Despite your full weight still pinning him to the floor, Valko's hips buck sharply up into yours, nearly throwing you off him. But his hand tightens against your ass, forcing you down into the movement at the exact same time he grinds his still-growing erection right up into your clothed pussy.

You both moan at the mere contact.

More. He needs more.

His hips don’t stop moving, pushing up into you with quick little rabbit thrusts, Valko’s head thrown back in a deep, unashamed moan as he chases the friction. His jaw opens, nearly drooling, about to manhandle you into a better position to grind against when you lean back down.

And slap him right across the face.

Immediately, he freezes, blinking and shaking away the shock and arousal from his face. His cock jumps from between your thighs, though, and that’s all the confirmation you need as Valko looks back up at you with wide eyes.

“Behave, puppy.”

You place your hand around his neck, grinding your hips backward as you watch Valko’s eyes roll back.

“I won,” you remind him. “That means you listen to me.”

He nods with so much enthusiasm you almost worry about his neck.

“Yeah, yes. Of course. I can take it, please.” Anything, anything for you to keep touching him.

Your hips are flush against his, grinding up and down just like you would be if you were riding him. The thought alone has Valko moaning louder, completely uncaring if anyone heard, voice hoarse as you squeeze his throat tighter.

It’s teasing both of you to insanity, so close and not nearly close enough. Friction hot and pressing right up against your clit, but doing nothing to ease the growing ache between your thighs. It doesn't help that the outline of his dick is enough to grind on, wide enough to part your lips and feel strain against your clothed pussy. Fuck, imagining all that power, that size stretching inside you…

You’re no better than animals in heat, gasping and panting as your hips never stop moving, spine arching as his tip catches your clit. “Ahhh, good job, baby, making me feel so good. Good boy.”

Valko keens at the praise. “Thank you, thank you. I’m your good boy, I’ll be such a good boy.”

He’s drooling as he writhes beneath you, nails clawing into the floor with the restraint it takes not to flip you over and rip your shorts off before fucking until both of you pass out. Bite and mark you as his. Fill you with his seed until he’s shooting blanks, watch you drip with his cum, push his knot inside you and cum again and again and again—

You laugh. Poor thing doesn’t even realize he’s moaning all of this out loud.

“Shhh, I’ll let you, puppy.” Leaning down, you kiss him just to shut him up, licking into his open mouth. “I’ll let you breed me.”

“Fuuuck yes.”

Valko’s tongue shoves into your mouth, hot, invasive, lapping into the kiss. You let him, kissing with teeth and tongue, spit spilling down the side of his mouth as he takes more and more. He bullies himself closer, greedy for every scrap of attention, chasing each inch you’re willing to give and always reaching for one more.

“I’m sorry, feels so good, too good.” Valko groans, every thrust becoming more sloppy, and you can tell from how sloppy his kisses are and the unevenness of his thrusts that he’s already close.

You click your tongue as though reprimanding a spoiled pet before breaking the kiss, hand tightening around his throat.

Valko breaks away instantly with a sharp gasp, chest heaving. His eyes snap to yours, dazed and teary, as though being stopped is its own reward. “Sorry, m’sorry. Please keep kissing me, please, I’m sorry.” Another whimper. “You said you’d help me, ya? P-please baby, let me cum.”

“And let you stain my favorite gym shorts with your cum? I don’t think so, puppy,” you scold, teasing your fingers up his rough undercut.

His breath catches so abruptly his whole body gives a tiny, involuntary jolt, shoulders loosening beneath your hand as a slow shiver rolls down his spine at the mere touch. If his ears were manifested, they would be pulled back, his body chasing the sensation before his mind could catch up, leaning instinctively into your palm like some half-domesticated thing desperate for another touch.

Every instinct urges him to reclaim your mouth, to grind back into your clothed pussy, but he forces himself still. Because that’s what you’ve taught him to do.

What a good boy.

Lifting your hips, Valko sobs at the loss of your heat. Your free hand reaches down instead, shucking down his sweat-drenched shorts and boxers in one tug, his cock bouncing out from its confines.

It springs against Valko’s abdomen with a wet slap, every bulging, veiny inch a sensitive pink, tip swollen and leaking all over his pretty red happy trail.

Valko whines, bucking into the air, “Please-ohhh-please let me in you. I’ll make you feel s’good, I’ll be so good. Ah fuck, come on.”

Something, anything to release this unbearable pressure swelling up at the base of his dick.

So you slap him again, and this time the second the crack echoes across the room so does his moan. A fresh spurt of pre-cum stains his abs, so much leaking and spilling down his stomach, you’re damn near concerned.

“Shh, don’t be too loud, someone might hear how desperate you are, baby.” You kiss his forehead and strip.

First you peel off the sports bra, then kick down your shorts and panties, smiling at Valko’s star-struck expression before dropping back down completely bare onto his muscular thighs.

“Come here, puppy.”

He obeys immediately, sitting up faster than humanly possible and ramming his lips onto yours, hands fighting to cup your breasts before he thinks better of it and curls them against his sides into trembling fists.

You hum into the kiss, guiding his hands up to your skin, “Go on, you can touch me.”

Two massive arms engulf you. Valko’s already nuzzling into your bare chest, mouthing at the lines of sweat collected from your sports bra, hot tongue dragging against every inch of skin. There’s no rhythm, no logic, just sloppy licking between your breasts before sucking at your nipples, around and up until he’s at your collarbone, every sensation so overwhelming that you feel yourself soaking his thigh.

“M’sorry, can’t stop. Taste so sweet…” Valko’s licking another long strip up your neck before finding a spot that makes you whine, nipping and teething at it while his hands come up to pinch and roll your swollen nipples. You moan at the feeling of it all, hips rolling against his quads as he purposefully tenses the ridges of muscle underneath you, letting you grind against him.

Once again, the two of you are humping each other like dogs, except this time there’s no more clothing to get in the way.

Your bare cunt envelopes his throbbing cock, every movement heightened by loud, wet sounds of the two sliding together, pseudo fucking in a way that drives both of you insane. The taste and smell of you is overwhelming, Valko dipping his head to suck at your nipple while bucking up into you, abs flexing, drenched with sweat and your combined slick as his cock drags past your clit, pressing desperately right up against your cunt before slipping to your ass and coming right back again.

His frustration is becoming obvious. Low growls muffled into your chest as grinding turns to proper thrusting, tip ramming at your entrance just too thick to push in and your thighs too slippery to find purchase.

“Shit! it’s not– not fitting. Please, let me in.” He’s begging, drooling against your chest. ”Please sweetheart, please doll.”

You want it just as badly. So you tug on his hair, pulling Valko on top of you as you lie down, and slowly turning yourself around until your chest is pressed into the training mats beneath you.

Valko’s frozen like a predator just narrowed in on a prey.

Except that prey is you. Your teasing smile lured him in, and your bare, dripping cunt presented to him like heaven mere inches from his drooling face.

Arching your back deeper, you smile as you finally give him what he’s been dying for. “You’ve been such a good boy for me, Valko, ya? Wanna knot me?”

He’s barely breathing, golden eyes glowing slightly as they lock with yours, unblinking. “Yes.”

Then, he pounces.

In a blink, his six-foot-something body slams into yours, shoving your face into the floor, one arm effortlessly forcing your ass higher to meet his hips and the other pinning your back into a deep arch to accommodate the weight of his chest now pressed against your spine.

Completely mounted, your muscles scream from the stretch and pressure his body gives, his heavy cock still leaking violently from between your spread thighs, thrusting between them, a puddle of his pre-cum splattering down between you.

You laugh into the mats, right where you want to be as you goad him into taking all that he wants and more. “Go on then, puppy. Claim me, take me, make me yours—!”

You can’t even finish your teasing before Valko bullies himself inside you with one violent thrust. Hands dig grooves into your thighs, pawing at your ass, stomach, chest, all while pulling you backward into every powerful thrust.

Valko’s head drops with another unashamed moan, tongue lolling out to lick at your nape and spine, drooling with every tight flutter your walls squeeze around him. God, you’re gushing. He’s glued to the mess where your bodies meet, your ass bouncing with each thrust, taking him so perfectly he’s losing his mind.

“Ohhh you feel so good.” Pressing deeper, his hand snakes around to press against your lower stomach, feeling the outline of his dick as you scream into the floor. Valko groans, babbling into your ear as his hips snap faster. “I know pretty thing. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He’s repeating it against your neck between licks and nibbles, still not letting up any of his force. You feel something unmistakable swell against the curves of your ass, knocking against your cunt and thick enough to hit your clit too, each slap making you sob from pleasure-pain.

“Gonna f-fuck my little mate full of my cum, then eat you out, then fuck you again—oh fuck. Love you and this perfect pussy,” Valko’s slurring his words, talkative as ever and loud enough for the entire training facility to hear him moan.

His thrusts turn deeper, unable to part with your heat, his knot grinding furiously against your clit as you feel your body begin to tremble. “She’s takin me so well, so tight. Mhmm I’ll fill her well, give her everything she wants, fuck her full-full of my knot.”

God, he needs to shut up or you’re going to cum.

“Shh,” you hush him before breaking into a moan. “Too loud, Valko. Someone could—ahh fuck—hear you!”

Oh, but he can’t! He can’t, not when he finally feels your pussy begin to cream around him with your impending orgasm, almost wet enough to take all of him and his knot! This is what you want too don’t you see? This is what his pretty little mate needs.

Valko can’t even comprehend what he’s saying anymore, just growling and moaning into your neck as he drops his arms to properly rub at your clit and tug at your sensitive nipples, biting down into the junction of your shoulder and neck as you squirt all over his thighs with a pitched scream.

“Good pup, good mate, keep cumming for me.” Valko licks at the pin-pricks of blood blooming from his bite, going right back to babbling into your ears as his thrusts turn rougher. “Ready to take me, have my knot, my cum, oooh youfeelsogood.”

In a last attempt to muffle your boyfriend's horny sobs, you squirm beneath him to grab your gym shorts and stuff Valko’s mouth with them, gagging him with the sweat-stained spandex. And he simply takes it, open mouth drooling all over your clothes as he gets drunk off the scent of your sweat and arousal stained into them.

You both gasp at the feeling of his knot finally pressing into your entrance, the swollen, heavy weight of it forcing you several more inches open before slipping back out. Again, and again.

Instinctively, you run away, like a bunny cornered by a wolf, writhing underneath him as Valko snarls, hands engulfing your hips entirely as he drags you back onto his cock, forcing you still with so little effort it's laughable. Nothing stops him from pressing in deeper and deeper, your poor cunt finally yielding to his knot, the burn making you drool into the floor as Valko moans into your makeshift gag.

It’s forever and only seconds, your orgasm-sensitive pussy drooling enough to help him slide in fully, greedily sucking up every extra inch he gives you until you both feel the pop! of his knot finally catching inside you. It presses every damn inch inside you so perfectly you cum again, wailing and trembling as your thighs begin to go limp.

No matter, Valko just holds you up anyway. It’s not like he could pull out of you now, even if he wanted to. Not until he filled you with his cum, at least.

You’re still shaking from the prolonged orgasm, and Valko lets the rest of your body fall to the floor, following you down until his body is smushed atop yours, pressing you both into a mean prone bone.

It just makes him feel bigger. Your head is spinning with all the sudden pressure, his fat tip kissing your cervix as he rocks back and forth, his knot still grinding into that squishy spot against your walls, the heat and weight of his chest pressing into your back, and of course, his muffled moans and rambles still going strong even through your panties.

“Cum, Valko.” You’re barely thinking straight either, already right at the edge again as Valko’s thrusts turn sloppy, his body shaking. “Fill me up, b-breed me. Become mine.”

He’s cumming.

Valko whimpers into your neck as his hips snap one last time into yours, grinding as you feel the warm gush of his release spurt violently inside you, filling and filling and filling you up. So much, too much. Too much that cum squirts out from even the tight plug of his knot, dripping down both of your thighs even as Valko whines at the waste.

He doesn’t seem to fully realize he’s done, still rolling his hips into yours, each one powerful enough to drag your bodies tangled along the floor.

“Nooo, Valko,” you whine, trapped under his weight and still inflated with his knot. “Valko, stop, sensitive! Too sensitive.”

Your hands helplessly shove and push backward at the enormous man lying on top of you, not even budging him as he continues to nuzzle himself into your sweat-slicked back.

Finally, you manage to yank your clothes out from his mouth, releasing him from the gag as he simply sighs in pleasure, licking and nipping at your ear before dragging his tongue in a long, messy line down your neck.

“You’re so heavy. Get. Off!” Each word is a shove, but Valko only laughs at the effort. He does take mercy on your poor abused body though, and grabbing your waist with one hand, rolls the two of you over. You now rest on his plush chest instead, both of you heaving as you lie still pumped full of his knot and cum.

“M’sorry, guest instinct just took over there, y’know? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“...You rabid dog.”

Now, sitting in the university library three days later, you couldn't focus on a single line of text in front of you. You were supposed to be studying, but the quiet just made the noise in your head louder. Close your eyes for even a second and you felt it again, four fingers buried inside you, stretching you past what you thought you could take, your pussy clenching around them in little aftershocks. The warmth of Zayne’s cum soaking through his trousers against your bare ass.

The library's silence felt exactly like the silence after you'd come.

Dread settled low in your chest. Was this it? Had you wrecked the only thing that ever felt safe? You hadn't seen any of them in days—dodging texts, taking the long way to class, hiding in corners of campus you didn't even know existed. Two years of friendship and you'd thrown it all away because a little bit of alcohol got you horny. Fuck!

You didn't hear the sneaker scuff against carpet a few rows over. Didn't notice the eyes tracking the nervous way your finger kept dragging across your bottom lip.

Rafayel stood half hidden by art history, knuckles white against the shelf, watching you with the same burning focus he'd had three nights ago.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Forty eight hours after you fled Zayne's dorm, the deadbolt on his door slid shut again. Everyone—except you— was back again.

Caleb leaned against the wall spinning a basketball on his finger until it dropped, thudding against the floor. He'd mutter something under his breath, scoop it up, start over. Rafayel paced the strip of carpet between the twin beds, flipping through a stack of index cards he wasn't reading—snap, snap, snap. Sylus stood by the window with his back to the room, fingers tapping some restless rhythm against the glass. Xavier was the only one still, flat on his stomach on Zayne's bed, chin in his hands, staring blankly at a stray bobby pin left behind on the floor. Zayne sat at his desk pretending to study an anatomy chart. He'd adjusted the lamp three times. Tried to ignore the testosterone fogging up his room. But between the ball, the pacing, and the tapping, focus was a lost cause.

He slammed his textbook shut, took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Caleb dropped the ball.

"Stop pretending," he said, voice dropping into flat calm. "You didn't come here to study. Just say what you actually want to say so I can kick you all out."

Silence. Quick, guilty glances passed between them—nobody wanting to be the one to crack first, to admit they'd all been picturing the same thing. You, two nights ago, coming apart under their hands.

Rafayel cleared his throat first, tossing his index cards onto the bed "Fiiiiine. Hypothetically. Say a guy's already inside a girl. All the way in. How do you hit that spot? Is there a specific angle?"

A muscle jumped in Zayne's jaw. "The angle doesn't change just because your dick is inside her, Rafayel. Shallow thrusts, angled up. Not just slamming into her. Though I doubt you have the stability to hold that for long."

"I have great stability!" Rafayel hissed, ears burning pink, thumb rubbing against his middle finger as the memory of you made his pulse spike.

"He once held a paintbrush at the exact same angle for an hour straight," Xavier offered, not lifting his chin from his hands.

"See? Stability."

"That's your wrist, Rafayel. Different muscle group entirely," Caleb said.

From the bed, Xavier's voice cut through again, quiet and lazy. "What about when she's on top? Or on the edge of a desk. How do you go down on her so she can grind as hard as she wants? For when she needs to control the movements herself."

Caleb snorted "A desk? Real smooth, Xavi."

"Better than what you're about to ask."

"You don't even know what I'm about to ask."

"I've known you for two years. I know exactly what you're about to ask.”

Caleb's ears went red, but he plowed ahead anyway. "Okay. Hypothetically, say a guy's bigger than average. How's he supposed to use her mouth without hurting her throat?”

"Bigger than average?" Rafayel repeated.

"I am."

"Compared to what?”

"Compared to the general population."

"You've never seen the general population's dick. You've seen yours and you've seen ours and apparently that's all the data you needed?."

Caleb opened his mouth, found nothing, and closed it again.

Sylus finally stopped tapping the glass and a low laugh rumbled out of him "If a guy's significantly bigger than average…”

“Not you too…” Rafayel groaned

“How does he make sure he actually fits, without hurting her? If she's tight. Really tight. Where's the point her body just gives up and takes it?”

Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose again. "I cannot believe I'm hearing grown men compare dick sizes in my dorm room while pretending it's for science."

"It is for science," Caleb said.

"It is not for science, Caleb."

"Reproductive science."

"Get out of my room."

Nobody moved. Zayne let out a long breath through his nose, the kind that meant he was three seconds from actually losing it.

The silence came back, heavier.

Zayne put his glasses back on slowly, fingers locking onto the edge of his desk until his knuckles went white, whatever calm he usually wore was completely gone.

“Every single one of you needs patience and a lot less idiocy than you're currently showing," Zayne said "I'll answer each question once. Once. And then you're all getting the hell out of my dorm. Am I clear?”

Their faces stayed blank. None of them realized they were all in the same boat.

Rafayel thought he was the only one picturing your breasts. Caleb thought his face fucking question was a private fantasy about your mouth, Xavier was silently planning how to put his tongue to use on you again and Sylus was quietly calculating exactly how to stretch you open and how slow he'd have to go. They were entirely oblivious to the fact that not a single one of them was thinking about an imaginary girl. Every single question in that room had your name underneath it.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The shadow over your book solidified into something real. Rafayel had stepped out from behind the art history shelves, and walked straight over, pulled out the chair across from you, and dropped into it like he owned the table.

He propped his chin in his palm and smiled at you. Easy. Unbothered. Like three nights ago he hadn't had your leg pinned wide open over Zayne's leg, staring at you with eyes blown wide and wild.

"You've been reading the same page for ten minutes," he said, voice smooth, carrying that familiar teasing lilt like nothing in the world had changed. "Is it the most boring book ever written or are you hiding in here?"

Your mouth had gone dry. You closed the book slowly, hoping he wouldn't notice your hands weren't steady. "Just studying, Raf. Got a lot going on."

"Clearly," he said, dragging one finger in a slow circle against the table, eyes never leaving yours.

He didn't take the hint to go. He pulled a sketchbook out of his bag instead and started doodling something on the margins while you tried, and failed, to read the same sentence for the fourth time. Every few minutes he'd glance up, catch you watching, and smirk like he'd won something. You'd duck back to your notes. He'd go back to sketching. The cycle repeated itself until you couldn't tell if you were studying or being studied.

"You're doing it again," he murmured eventually, not looking up from his sketchbook.

"What?"

"Biting your lip…” He flipped the sketchbook closed before you could see what he'd drawn. "It's distracting."

"You're the one distracting me."

"I'm just sitting here, very quietly, minding my own business."

"You sat down across from me, uninvited."

"I go to this school. I'm allowed in the library." He grinned, and it was the same easy, infuriating grin he always wore.

When you finally packed up, he packed up too, slinging his bag over one shoulder and falling into step beside you without asking if that was okay. You walked across campus together. He talked sbout a canvas he was prepping, about a professor who kept docking him points for too much emotion in his color theory, about some gallery downtown that wanted his portfolio. Normal things. Easy things. He never once brought up the dorm. Never said Xavier's name, or Zayne's, or anything about orgasms or the sounds you'd made that day.

But it was there anyway. In every silence. In the half second too long his eyes dropped to your mouth mid sentence before flicking back up like nothing happened. In the way his shoulder kept finding yours on the narrow sidewalk, brief and electric, like he was doing it on purpose and daring you to call him out. You grabbed coffee. He ordered for you without asking, remembering exactly how you took it, and didn't comment when your fingers brushed his over the cup and you both pretended not to notice.

The whole afternoon felt like holding your breath.

By the time you made it back to your building Rafayel was still beside you. Still talking. Still walking like he had every right to be there. You didn't stop him at the stairs. You didn't stop him in the hallway. And when your key finally turned in the lock and the door swung open, whatever fragile, careful normalcy you'd both been playing at for the last three hours fell apart completely.

You barely had time to kick the door shut.

Rafayel's palms hit the wood on either side of your head, and then his mouth was on yours and there was no easing into it, no polite preamble, just him, kissing you like he'd been thinking about nothing else for three days. He tasted like dark coffee and barely leashed desperation. Your hands found his chest on instinct, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He'd been your first crush out of all of them. The beautiful, dramatic, slightly impossible artist who always seemed to exist outside of your reach. And now he had you pinned against your own door.

"Three days," he breathed against your mouth "Three days of you hiding and leaving my texts on read."

"Raf—"

"I counted the hours." His forehead dropped to yours "I had to stop because… it was embarrassing."

His hands moved before you could say something else—down your neck, across your shoulders, fingers curling into the hem of your shirt and pulling it up and over your head. He dropped it somewhere. Didn't look where it landed. He was too busy looking at you.

He'd been replaying it for three nights straight, stroking his cock raw. The light catching your skin. Zayne's hands on you. The sounds you'd made. The image had lodged itself somewhere behind his eyes and refused to leave.

His fingers found the clasp of your bra, knuckles brushing the curve of your spine, and you shivered so hard it traveled through his hands. He undid it carefully—not slowly, he wasn't capable of slow right now—and slid the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside.

"I kept thinking about this," he said, half to himself. "Zayne had his hands on you and I was sitting three feet away going completely insane." He had been dying to see your breasts again since he had seen your nipples turn tight under Zayne's fingers.

He cupped you gently, and the slight roughness of his palms against your skin pulled a sound out of you immediately. He felt it more than heard it.

"Yeah, just like that" he murmured.

His hands were trembling slightly, he noticed and hated it but couldn't stop it. His hands never trembled. But this was you, and you were looking up at him with those eyes, and his hands were shaking like he was an eighteen year old that had never touched anyone before in his life.

His thumbs dragged over your nipples as he watched your face, not your chest, the way your lips parted, the way your head tipped back an inch. Cataloguing. Filing it away. Learning the shape of you the way he learned everything—through touch, through attention, through taking his time even when every instinct was screaming at him not to..

"You have no clue," he said quietly, thumbs circling again, "what it was like to watch you and not be able to—" He stopped. Pressed his lips together. His jaw worked like he was deciding how honest to be. "I kept thinking about what sounds you'd make if it was just me. If I got to take my time."

His hands lifted your breasts slightly, testing the weight with the same attention he gave to everything he cared about. His eyes tracked the movement.

"I want to draw you like this someday," he said, almost offhand, like the thought had just surfaced. Then his gaze flicked up to yours. "Can I?.”

Your back arched off the door and he took that as the invitation it was, mouth closing over your right breast with a hungry sound that vibrated against your skin. His tongue worked tight circles around your nipple before he pulled it deep, sucking hard enough to make your knees buckle, hands moving to grip your waist to keep you upright. When he finally pulled off, he dragged his mouth across to the other side, slower this time, lips brushing the soft underside before he bit down carefully and then sucked until a mark bloomed red against your skin, exactly where he wanted it.

He pulled back just far enough to look at it. Something satisfied moved across his face.

"There," he said quietly before he pressed his face back into your skin and groaned like you were killing him.

You didn't fully register the part where you moved from the door to your bed. Clothes came off in pieces—his shirt somewhere by the desk, your jeans a problem that took both of you longer than it should have, both of you half laughing for about three seconds before his mouth found your throat and the laughing stopped. The sheets felt cold against your back when you finally went down. Rafayel was all heat, hovering over you, weight braced on one arm, looking down at you with the same burning eyes that had been watching you from across that library for the better part of an hour.

He'd shed his pants and underwear at some point. He was fully hard, thick and leaking, a bead of moisture gathered at the tip that made your stomach flip because you remembered what he'd looked like three nights ago, damp fabric, clenched jaw and eyes that couldn't look away from you.

He parted your thighs and settled between them. He'd painted you in his head a hundred times in the last three days. He kept going back to the image of you spread open and wanting, the way you'd looked when you were right at the edge. He'd tried to work through it. Picked up a brush, stared at a blank canvas, put the brush down. Made coffee. Stared at his phone. Almost texted you seventeen times.

He guided himself to your entrance, and Zayne's voice chose that exact moment to surface in his memory. "Shallow thrusts, angled up. You have to use your hips to angle the pressure up against the anterior wall with every thrust. And internal targeting alone isn't always enough. You'll need to add direct stimulation to her clitoris at the same time if you actually want her to cum."

He almost laughed. Instead he shifted his weight and looked at you with an expression that was equal parts focused and insufferable.

"I did some research..." he said.

"Raf..."

"For artistic purposes." He pressed forward, just barely, just enough to feel the heat of your pussy against the tip of his cock, and watched your face.

He let out a slow, shaking breath and pushed inside you.

The sound he made wasn't dignified. It was pulled out of him by the way you gripped him—tight and hot—your body drawing him in like it had been waiting specifically for him. He sank all the way to the hilt, pelvis pressed flush against yours, and stayed there for a moment with his forehead dropped to your shoulder and his jaw locked so hard it ached.

He needed a second. Just one second.

You were clawing at his shoulders, nails dragging, and the sting of it helped him focus.

Pull back. Shallow. Angle up. Zayne's voice was sitting in the back of his skull like an annotation in the margin of a textbook. He wanted to be annoyed about it, but not right now, he was going to be annoyed about it later. Right now he pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, felt you clench around the tip of his dick like you were trying to keep him inside, and thrusted back in with his hips tilted up.

The sound you made rattled something loose in his chest.

He felt it, the moment the angle caught, the way your whole body seized around him, legs snapping tight around his waist and heels digging into the small of his back trying to pull him deeper. He'd hit it exactly. The spot Xavier had worked open with his fingers three nights ago, and the memory of watching that—watching you cum for Xavier—made something possessive and dark curl through him.

It was his turn now.

He reached down between your bodies, fingers sliding through the slick until his thumb found your clit, swollen and twitching, and pressed down.

"Is that—" His voice broke halfway through the question. He cleared his throat, face burning. "Is that it?"

You answered by moaning his name, which he was choosing to take as a yes.

He kept the same rhythm, thumb working circles around your clit. Your walls fluttering around him in little pulses was making it extremely difficult to think. He had to remind himself several times that he was an artist. He had the patience. He was going to make you cum and squirt just like Xavier did.

His hands were shaking again.

"I've got you," he pressed his mouth to your temple, your cheek, wherever he could reach. "I've got you, I've got you, cutie"

He picked up the pace slowly, maintaining the angle through sheer stubbornness. The sounds filling the room were obscene—wet and unavoidable—and Rafayel didn't care about any of it because you were falling apart underneath him and he couldn't look away from your face.

He'd painted a lot of things. Spent years chasing the right light, the right color, the right moment that made something ordinary look like it meant something. He'd never painted anything that looked like you did right now and he was already furious at himself because he knew he would never be able to.

He drove into you harder, felt the headboard knock once against the wall, and decided he didn't care.

"You're so tight," he choked out, the words barely making it past his teeth, pressed into the wet skin of your neck. His lips dragged down to your collarbone, teeth grazing, and his thumb kept its pressure on your clit without mercy. "You keep...fuck...every time I hit it you...It feels so good"

The pressure was building fast, coiling low in your abdomen, that same terrifying weight you'd felt under Xavier's fingers—except this was different, this was Rafayel, his chest against yours and his mouth on your throat and you couldn't think about anything else.

You bore down without thinking, muscles releasing the way Zayne had told you to, pushing back against him, and Rafayel made a sound against your neck that was almost pained.

"Raf...please, I'm gonna..."

"Don't hold it, cutie. Give it to me" he whispered right against your ear. 

A rush of heat soaked the sheets beneath you as you cried his name into the quiet room. Not a whisper. Not a gasp. His name, loud and completely undone.

Rafayel groaned like something in him gave way.

Whatever control he'd been holding onto—the careful rhythm, the patience, the angle, all of it, shattered the second he felt you cum around him. He buried himself as deep as he could go and followed you over the edge, shaking, both hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he poured into you in long spurts.

He collapsed onto your chest.

His heart was slamming against your ribs, your fingers were tangled in his hair from some point you couldn't remember. The room was quiet except for both of you trying to remember how lungs worked.

His lips moved against your collarbone 

"I sketched you. In the library today. While you weren't looking." His fingers traced something slow and shapeless against your ribs. "You looked like you were carrying something heavy." A breath. "I wanted to take it from you.”

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