“I just want to be close to you. Is that so wrong?” You bat your lashes, a sheepish smile on your lips.
Zayne let it go for a while.
You’ve been leaning against him, under the guise of wanting to be close to him. Just leaning. Laughing nervously, you held onto his arm while the wedding couple was in front of the stage.
He had his arm around your waist the whole time, silently accepting that he thinks you’re being clingier than usual. But you’ve been squirming. That’s what made him concerned.
You should’ve expected it was a non-seated wedding. You’ve worn the heels from morning for their holy matrimony, which is close to five hours. Sure, you had a gap to wait until the reception party, sitting in a cafe with Zayne while taking your shoes off.
You didn’t expect it would still hurt. Now, to endure the next three hours, you’ve been leaning onto Zayne and internally screaming you should’ve considered comfort over design when you bought it.
Oh, you don’t care about the eyes or whether you’ve been near the booth to wait in line for this molten lava cake behind both of you.
All you can think is that your feet are going to fall off any moment now.
It was one hour in. You’ve gotten spaghetti, the roasted duck, and the chocolate lava. Congratulated the couple, and you were back in the corner leaning against the wall while Zayne grabbed drinks for you.
That’s when he saw you barefoot on the carpet, giving up. Your pouting face didn’t help the case.
“Alright, let me look.”
You froze, didn’t realize he was back already. Accepting the glasses he handed you, he knelt to check. “Zaynie, your hands are going to be dirty—”
Your feet were red, striking a nerve on the outer when you leaned your weight on the other foot. Hissing in pain, you held onto his shoulder.
“You’re not okay.” Zayne sighed, standing up. “Do you still want to stay?”
Well, you congratulated the couple. You’ve eaten—not enough, but there wasn’t any more interesting food you were willing to try.
“No…” You muttered. You felt awful for being needy. You should’ve enjoyed the party, mingling with your other friends. At least you greeted some of them whom you passed by while lining up for food.
“Let’s finish this and go, hm?” Zayne muttered softly, noticing your reluctance. He knew this look, where you feel guilty over something.
You downed your drink, placing it on a tray. You hadn’t expected Zayne to hoist you up to sit on his arm while he held your heels. Eyes widening, you held on his shoulder.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting us out. The car is floors away to get your spare footwear.”
“Spare footwear?” You repeated, blinking. You hadn’t even thought of bringing any, thinking you were wearing these for the rest of the day.
He hummed, walking past gawking guests while you hid your face in his hair. You were grateful the walk to the elevator was short—still, one of your friends snapped a picture. You could hear that laugh from anywhere.
“This is embarrassing.”
“This is efficient.”
You snorted. “Aren’t I too heavy?” you asked, still holding on. You didn’t dislike it much, but you still felt bad. His arm could cramp.
“No, you’re not, my love.” Zayne bluntly said. “I don’t exercise for nothing.”
His hand pats your waist before reaching for his keys to unlock his car.
Ah, the journey went too short. Buckling you in the passenger seat, Zayne went to his trunk, switching your heels for sandals. You laughed when he presented them to you, pancakes-patterned sandals in your size.
“It is cute, yes?” He smiled, finally hearing your laughter.
“Thank you, Zaynie.” You grinned, leaning to peck his cheek.
“Should we get take-out on the way home? And ice cream.”
His offer made your eyes glimmer. How can he be so perfect? If you ask your parents for more food, they would only blame you for not eating much at the party.
“Do you know how much I love you?” you blurted out.
He only chuckles, starting the engine.
“I know, my love. I love you too.”
Arriving home, out of the party outfits and straight to the shower. Zayne had iced your feet and massaged them while you ate take-out in bed afterwards.
You hesitated when he offered to eat in bed, afraid to make a mess. But you didn’t move either when he was already at your feet, doing treatment while you fed him his ice cream.
You ended the day with a happy tummy and a full night of cuddling. Zayne was thankful for no shift the next day. You weren’t letting the panda hold off on him.
went to a wedding last saturday. my feet hurt, wish i had a zayne for that just like this.
I cannot be faulted for what you're about to read. Blame @zaynezone for encouraging me.
(I hope its okay that I tagged you? I read your blog rules and it didn't say anything about tagging so fingers crossed I'm not overstepping)
You're finally recovered after giving birth to yours and Zaynes first daughter, but a new body comes with new challenges. Challenges that Zayne is more than happy to go through with you.
(aka the one where you're fucking and he laps your breastmilk off of your body.)
I'm POSITIVE this has been done before. so credit to the first. <3
CW: postpartum discussions, swearing, breastmilk drinking, protected piv sex, car sex, fingering... that's all I can think of.
if you see any typos no you didn't, if this is ooc, no it isn't. <3
It had only been 8 weeks since yours and Zayne's baby girl, Aurelia, was born.
She had come out two weeks early, but a whopping 11 pounds. And naturally, you had needed three stitches. But after 8 LONG weeks of healing and taking care of your baby girl, Zayne had surprised you with a new dress and told you to be ready by 6.
Yvonne would be a good babysitter, and you knew this. But it still didn't quite settle your nerves about leaving your daughter for the first time. But Zayne promised it would be okay. And he was right; you two had needed time alone. Time that wasn't taken up by the baby. Time to be husband and wife again.
By 8 o'clock, you were in the backseat of his car, half undressed.
In retrospect, this was his fault. He should not have said, "Your stitches are fully healed now. You're okay to have penetrative sex again," on the way to the restaurant and not expected it to faze you. He said it like a fact. Like he knew personally that your body was fully healed enough for him to fuck you again.
"Is that right?" you had responded, not quite knowing what to say to that.
"Mh" was the only answer you got in return before he was pulling into the restaurant valet.
Your hands caress his face in between kisses. "Thank- mh- thank you for dinner. I missed that. I missed you."
You're mumbling against his lips. But he really doesn't care as he turns on the car overhead and grabs his phone.
"What're you doing?" The door creaks when he guides you to sit up against it. His hands caressing your thighs as he pulls your dress the rest of the way off of your legs.
"I'm checking that your stitches are fully healed. You're freshly postpartum. I'm not going to tear you further or cause you unnecessary pain." he's turning on his phone flashlight, and there's not a single part of your body that isn't touched by the blush that you're forced into.
This man watched you give birth; he's been inside of you countless times. Hiding your face in your hands was the only reasonable thing to do here!
"I don't know why you're embarrassed. I was there when we had her, you know? I put her there." he spreads your folds with two of his fingers, checking your perineum. "Relax. You're clenching too tightly for me to see inside of you."
The smirk on his face needed to be wiped off, you decide. And before you can really think about what you're saying, "Yeah, I almost forgot about the whole thirty seconds that you contributed to the creation of our daughter, my bad," falls out of your mouth.
The look he gives you is immediate and warning. "Want to repeat that?" You're shaking your head immediately.
Seemingly satisfied with his findings, he tosses his phone into the front seat. The soft thud of the metal on the leather seems to vibrate through the car's interior as he moves forward, hiking your legs over his hips as he leans in and kisses you. The gentility suddenly gone from him as his hands roam your naked body in the backseat of his car.
He pulls away when he feels you wince, his hands immediately leaving your breasts.
"No, nothing, keep going," you say, as if your husband can't see through your pain.
"Sore?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We don't have to do this if you're not-"
"no! no... Zayne. I want you. I'm ready. I just... Aurelia left earlier, and without her crying, I didn't really think to pump. I'm just... full, is all. Just a little sore. I'll be fine. Just please," you reach forward, grabbing his wrist and leading it to your pulsing heat, " I want you".
He presses one finger into you, and you both let out breathy sighs. Even just his finger is enough to have you gasping after nearly 8 weeks of no sex at all.
He watches your face for a sign of any ambivalence, and he softly hooks his finger upwards.
You close your eyes, the feeling of the cool air mixed with the warmth inside of you pushing you too close too fast, and you know he's not going to let you orgasm more than once tonight.
His mouth descends on your collarbone while his finger slowly rocks within you. It's nice; this is nice. This feels like you're just husband and wife again. No worries at home.
"I really wish you would have let me get you home for this," he says into the hollow of your throat. "I never want to make you feel like urgency is more important than your comfort."
"Zayne?"
"Mhm?"
"I know. And you're very considerate. But it has been two months, and I'm aching for you. Can you please just hurry this along so that I can cum around your cock? Please?" You're threading your hands through his hair, and he leans into your palms softly.
"You know we can't rush foreplay, my love. It's important that you're properly prepared. I won't risk hurting you." God, this man was too sweet.
"Yeah... okay." You settle on, leaning further against the interior car door.
He smiles, and a warmth envelops you as he slowly adds a second finger. Fuck maybe he was right; two fingers were a lot. The pain/pleasure sensation prickles at the base of your spine. Zayne's mouth descends on your chest once more, first your collarbone, then your sternum, and eventually your nipples.
You feel your let down reflex engage, and you try to pull him off by the hair, but it's too late. "Zayne. Zayne, wait, you can't- my boobs, they're not- oh-h my god." You're pushing him further into your chest when his fingers crook and find your gspot like it's a magnet. Pressing hard and massaging expertly.
He sucks, and your world spins. The heaviness and ache drain away as the sweet liquid slides down his throat.
He detaches, taking a moment to breathe before softly massaging your breast. he marvels at the sight of your breastmilk sliding down your body.
"Fucking sinful," he says before he's lapping it off of your navel and trailing his tongue along the path that it took down your body.
He kisses your sternum softly before asking, "Are you feeling less full now?" as you're rocking your hips against his palm. You hear more than feel, his one hand unbuttoning his pants and attempting to free his cock.
He swears at the difficulty of doing this one handed and the sounds bubble a giggle from your throat. The giggle is very abruptly gone as he pulls his fingers from you.
Before you can catch your breath, you hear him tear a condom wrapper open, followed by the slick sound of him sliding it on.
He lines up, asking if you're ready before he's sheathing himself fully with one push.
The stretch is wholly divine. But what's nearly better is the way his mouth descends on your other nipple while he waits for you to adjust.
The milk coats his tongue, latch just deep enough to not hurt. Like he knows what he's doing. Of course he does. He's watched your daughter do it countless times. He was there when the lactation consultant taught you how to deepen the latch. Of course he knows.
Your train of thought is bombed by a missile when he begins to move inside of you while continuing to suck on your nipple. The feeling has your head being thrown back against the window, your hands scrambling for purchase anywhere they can. One finds the window behind you, already fogged up from the heat inside the car. The other finds his shoulder, digging crescents into the skin.
His lips suck and suck until you're whimpering, and when he's done, and his lips detach from your nipple, he looks nearly fucked out just from the taste alone.
His hips stutter in their rhythm, and he leans forward to kiss you. Your legs rest high on his hips, the feeling of him so deep it's making your head swim.
What you would do without this man you didn't know. His tip massages your g-spot in ways that should be illegal.
Putting the fact that he's a caring, competent, lovely husband, and a divine father, aside..., fuck was he good at what he does here.
His cock pulses within your walls, and the slow rhythm he's been taking this entire time is starting to turn in your favor as he loses his shit within you. With two more thrusts pushed directly into your g-spot, you're cumming around him, and he's following immediately.
The feeling of the condom filling up has you wishing he was emptying himself inside of you with no barriers; the one thing you did not miss about pre-conception sex was the condoms.
"Is it ethical to get addicted to creampies?" you ask him when he collapses against your chest.
"I- huh?" God, he was so cute when he was fucked stupid.
"Is it ethical to get addicted to creampies?" You repeat, stroking his hair softly. "I just mean... I don't know, I like the feeling of you finishing inside of me. ...is that gross?"
He laughs against your sternum softly, "No, darling. That's not gross. You're human. But safe sex is important, and I hate that you're making me give this lecture five seconds post orgasm"
“I love you,” you whisper against his hair, still slightly breathless, still slightly giggling. "Thank you for this night."
He responds with a kiss. In an hour, you'll have to return to your parental duties. But right now? Right now it was just the two of you. And, really, what more could you ask for?
and my tags list consists of @calebsfavoriteusedthong and @honeybee-berks. tba?
Zayne helplessly stared at you, who was glued to your tablet screen after moving from your phone. He won’t be surprised if you happen to connect the device to the TV any moment now.
You’ve been at it since the morning, ever since he woke up on one of the rare occasions of his day off, unable to sleep through the morning from missing the warmth of your body, only to see you hunched over your phone right beside him.
Sure, you were sitting pressed against his side, but it’s not enough.
He watched you while you hadn’t realized he woke up, still glued to your phone. You were wearing earbuds too, hoping not to disturb his rest.
It’s concerning from his viewpoint.
So he peeked in, squinting at the entrance of a familiar logo, one he knows so well.
It was Akso Hospital's newest ad, something he didn’t bat an eye at when Greyson mentioned it. Now, he was curious about it—he hadn’t even seen it himself.
You’ve rewatched the clip over 10 times now, a 30-second video, muttering how scandalous it is for not giving him enough screen time. He appeared for a solid 8 seconds—you counted it. You’ll be downloading and cutting the video sooner or later.
Yes, he was in a video, for an ad about Akso Hospital. You happened to come past a compilation edit on social media about a certain cardiac surgeon. It wasn’t long until you reached the source.
Zayne didn’t think much when they asked to record some footage of him—he slightly regretted agreeing so easily. He wasn’t expecting the ad to become popular for the wrong reasons—or perhaps reaching the wrong audience.
4 seconds in, it showed him inside his office behind the desk, just doing some paperwork or charting—whatever he was doing, he couldn’t remember—layered with a voice listing Akso’s benefits.
The other 4 seconds of him were Zayne in his glory. Zayne was in his scrubs—you’ve paused at that one for a long time before the transition with his surgical gown in the operating room—his eyes sharp, assessing the surgery he’ll be operating while he was scrubbing in.
Ah, he remembered this one, working on a dummy operation for content purposes. He was free. He was even happy to help that day after receiving a lunch box from you, followed by a separate container of your pancakes as dessert.
He was in a good mood—he didn’t think much.
“...Are you not bored? It’s been five minutes you’ve been staring at that part.” Zayne muttered. He wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or amused. Why watch and stare at the ad when he was right beside you?
“Well… My boyfriend is looking too good in here. I understand the uproar of the comments.” You nodded to yourself, as if trying to judge how good this ad is. “The only crime is your part is minimal!”
In all honesty, you just want to see Zayne in his scrubs. With the underscrubs, which complete the look, you were growling.
A different vibe from his usual buttoned-up shirt, like the one you always see when you visit him. It was probably your first time seeing him in scrubs.
It drives you crazy.
Muscled arms covered in his long-sleeved underscrubs, holding the writing pad. The attentive gaze while he questioned the patient’s condition—er, dummy patient. This ad was giving you another look at your boyfriend.
“I hate how I have to share this look of you with people in the whole world who see this ad.” You sighed, leaning back, and falling right into his open arms.
His arm found your waist naturally as he pulled you closer. Finally, you were not glued to his on-screen version.
He only hummed. “Is it that special?”
“You have no idea what this does to me.” You let out another exasperated sigh, gesturing to the paused screen. You zoomed in on his pixelated figure, one you could decipher while they were recording in the hallway—another him in his scrubs, maybe going into an actual surgery.
He squinted, probably needed his glasses. But he was surprised. It was really him—at least from the outfit itself.
“Now, I need to see you in a sleeveless shirt, period.” You stare at him with a serious look. “I’ll get you a whole cake for it.”
Sure, you’ve seen him shirtless instead. Not that you don’t love that look, no. But certain outfits on him just get you somewhere.
Zayne wasn’t sure he should be scared or flattered that you’re showing this much love over his physique. Was he considering your request? Maybe.
“...You’re not going to be bothered by this?”
Zayne pulled up his sleeves, showing the scars that made him cover them. His own battle and struggle. He never wanted to show anyone any of it.
“Oh, honey, why would I?” You frowned.
You raised his arm to your lips—your lovely forearm even if it’s full of scars. You peppered his scars with kisses before doing the same to his other arm. Lastly, you left a big smooch on his cheek.
“Of course not. In fact, I want to take good care of your skin.” You hummed, hugging his arm. “I don’t know what causes it yet, but I’ll treat it with good care either way.”
“These are my precious hardworking forearms. Mine.” You grinned, squeezing his arm in your hug.
Zayne lets out a small breath, seemingly like a small laugh. Right, he could never predict your answers. You never fail to surprise him.
“Now, would you come home in your scrubs sometimes?” You bat your eyelashes towards him, giving your best puppy eyes afterwards.
“What’s your bribe for that?”
“...Uh, I’ll make you pancakes for two weeks?”
“Alright...” Zayne sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Does that mean you’ll wear a sleeveless top too?”
“...If you wish, but I haven't acquired any sleeveless tops. You might need to pick one for me.”
You shot to the air, grinning, chanting a ‘yes, yes, yes’ under your breath.
“I’ll collect your pancake due every lunch hour and the cake on the day the top arrives—”
You weren’t even listening, already giggling while you ran to the living room, probably grabbing your laptop to browse the top you want to dress him up in.
Zayne only smiled. As long as he’s making you happy, he’ll do anything for you.
And as long as you’re not asking him to be stripped down with nothing at all—yet.
i keep reaching 1k words send help—inspired by a katsuki blurb. and i’m a fan of the pitt’s scrubs, so i shall fan over zayne in his scrubs as well. honestly he would look great in ptmc’s scrubs HAHA. i don't watch the show tho, only thirsting over sir abbot.
i can’t recall if he ever wore sleeveless tops like sy’s or caleb’s, wondering how he would look in it, was there a card of that visual?
Description: Zayne walks in on you and Valko in his private research facility.
SnowWolf Blurb Mini Series: (Pt. 1) Move Your Damn Hand
WC: 1.7k
Love y'all sm, keep answering the poll on who I should write for next!! I see those of you yearning for SnowWolf (ME TOO) teehee, HERE!!! Also, thank you so much for the requests!!! This gal is WRITING!!! Idk what's happening that these last two works involve sandwiched neck kissing ok ok ok!!!!!!!????? Enjoy!
Zayne clears his throat after he enters, “…I see I walked in during an...inopportune time.”
“Z-Zayne!” You shove Valko’s chest back slightly, his mouth popping off your neck with a gasp. However, his arms stay coiled around your waist and your legs around his hips—sat pretty on the edge of the large and expansive console of the research facility.
“Don’t mind me, I’m not one to—” he raises his brows, giving you a stern look, “interrupt.”
“Mmm…” Valko shoves his face straight back into the left side of your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin.
“Ngh!”
As he nonchalantly approaches, “Slower.” Zayne lowers his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, “God, you’re bad at teasing her.”
His response is a mumble, who knows if Zayne properly heard it, “Shut up.” His lips part again and he sucks your skin briefly before speaking once more—to you this time, “You like it, hm?”
“Y-yes—mmm—nngh—”
Zayne takes several steps closer, pushing his glasses back up, “Yes, while that may be true… She’d open up even more if you took your time.” He sits right beside you on the console, careful to not yet touch either of you.
You look at him quickly before your head tilts back from the pressure of Valko’s mouth—his large frame pressing against you. You gasp when you feel Zayne’s cool fingers touch the right side of your neck, “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Nngh—mhm—oh my god—”
As Valko continues to attack the left side of your neck, Zayne slowly brushes some hair back behind your right shoulder, leaning in close so that his breath washes over your neck.
He smiles lightly when you lurch forward the slightest bit, moaning to what’s happening on the other side of your neck. His lips get close to your ear, “Starting without me, hm? Is someone looking for a punishment?”
Your nails sink into Valko’s white lab coat, “N-no—ngh!” You let your right arm fall from Valko’s shoulder, sliding it down his arm so that Zayne can get closer to you.
“Hmm, I think you are, sweetheart. You knew I was coming.” You moan in anticipation, but he leans away first, taking his glasses off and setting them down delicately onto the console beside him.
After, watching you writhe briefly, he dips down and in, kissing your skin as softly as he can—with sweet, light presses from his lips that immediately raise goosebumps across your skin. He does so slowly, too slowly, a stark contrast to Valko—who while sucking your flesh in a desperate need to leave his mark, starts grinding his hard cock between your legs. Both actions from the pair leave you whimpering.
Zayne’s lips part as he presses a more tender kiss against your neck before speaking into your skin just loud enough for you to still hear him, “We’ll do this first, hm? Then you’ll get your punishment.”
“Mmhm—f-fuck—!” Zayne lets out a quiet chuckle against your neck before sinking back in, his mouth opening to kiss your skin more passionately—his tongue soothing the pressure from his mouth.
As Zayne continues along your neck, Valko pulls away, groaning, “C’mere.”
Valko’s mouth comes down onto yours hot and needy, his tongue pushing past your lips as you open up to him, “Mmmph…”
Hearing the muffled moan from you, Zayne pulls away from your neck, watching the two of you carefully, “So cute… You’re such a brat.” You moan when the connection between you and Valko breaks, only left to moan again when Zayne’s hand quickly snatches your jaw and cocks your head toward him. Looking at you with a heavy-lidded gaze, it’s only seconds before he’s crashing his lips onto yours.
You moan into his mouth from his heated kiss and at the feeling of Valko suddenly tugging both your pants and panties off at the same time. It doesn’t matter that your ass is pressed on the console, the tug is swift, strong, and easy as everything comes off—only a slight jump from your body. No matter what happens, Zayne doesn’t let you go, keeping you close with the grip he has on your jaw.
Dropping to his knees, you gasp when Valko’s tongue touches your slit. Aggressively, you crane your head, breaking your kiss with Zayne in favor of the direction of Valko nestled between your thighs and pulling your dangling legs over his shoulders.
Grip still firm, Zayne lets you, but only momentarily before he’s pulling you back to face him, “Ah, ah.” You whine as Valko’s tongue parts your slit and pushes against your clit. “Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His grasp spreads and extends past your jaw, his fingers and thumb squeezing in on your cheeks, “So pretty…”
“Ngh—Zayne—”
He interrupts with a tsk, turning your head slightly to the side and back in his grasp—like he’s examining you, staring at your parted lips being pushed open by his fingers. “Shh…do you like him between your legs, sweetheart?”
“Mmhm—y-yes—!”
“Good.” You can’t say much of anything else before Zayne’s lips are back on yours, his tongue pushing against your own so he can keep every moan from you for himself.
Groaning and consuming you hungrily, “Mmm—tastes s’good—smells s’good—fuck—” Valko silences himself by engulfing the whole of you with his mouth again, the vibrations from his throaty hums leaving you moaning into Zayne’s mouth.
Even when you start to tremble and shake against Zayne’s grasp, he still doesn’t let you go, “Uh-uh.” You bite his bottom lip, hard, and his index and middle finger raise and tap against your cheek, a subtle warning to knock it off. When letting the kiss actually break, “You got yourself into this, not me.”
Valko continues to lap at your clit, needy whines and moans sounding from below you and Zayne. “Mmm...he’s so...sloppy.” As if on cue, Valko wraps his lips around your clit, a slurp noise sounding just after Zayne speaks. He chuckles, “See?”
Your voice is strained and squeaks out under Zayne’s tight grasp, “Mmm—f-fuck—fuck!”
“Oh, you’re so beautiful when you’re desperate. You want to look, hm?” You nod helplessly in response under his hold on you. He gently kisses your lips once before forcefully tilting your face down and toward Valko who moans against you as soon as you make eye contact with him.
Zayne’s teeth nip the side of your ear as he squeezes your cheeks again, “Happy?”
“Y-yes—mmm—t-thank y-you—nngh!”
He hums, “Of course, sweetheart.”
Valko continues to suck on your clit until you feel your legs start to violently shake, his warm eyes not leaving yours while his fingertips sink into your thighs, “S-shit—oh m-my god—m’gonna—”
“Ah,” Zayne yanks your gaze—your face—back to his, his hand never once letting you go while you watched, “you know the rules, love. Look at me when you cum.”
***
Valko glances over to Zayne, cock in hand and about to push into you. Zayne nods, his voice low, “Mmhm…go ahead.”
You and Valko’s voices overlap as he sinks his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt, “F-fuck yes—” “Mm! Oh my god—!”
Zayne leans in, kissing your cheek as you stare down at the space dissolving between you and Valko, his voice a whisper, “Does it feel good, princess?”
Valko’s watching too, restraining himself from plunging into you completely, the feeling of you squeezing him overwhelming and delicious, “S-so—ngh—good!”
Trailing his mouth from your cheek to your jaw and down, his lips touch your neck again, “Mmm, good. ...Good girl.”
Your right hand leaves Valko’s arm and grasps at Zayne’s tie instead, “Z-Zayne—s-shit—let me touch you, p-please.”
He speaks between kisses on your neck, “If I let you touch me—mmm—your punishment increases.”
“Yes, y-yes! I don’t care, just—” Your pleas are cut off by a loud moan ripping out from your chest as the head of Valko’s cock wedges against your G-spot perfectly.
Practically growling when feeling your walls clench around him, “F-fuck—she’s perfect—nngh!”
“Isn't she?”
Valko’s thrusts are deep and intentional, his face burying back into the crook of your neck. After last time, he continued to do exactly what Zayne suggested—right at the end, tilt your hips up. You’re putty in his arms, moaning incessantly while trying to fumble with Zayne’s belt. He brushes your hand off, doing the task himself.
“V-Valko?”
He speaks against your neck, “Nngh—yes, pup?”
“Do me a f-favor, hm?” Not stopping the torque of his hips once, he pulls his face out from your neck—out from inhaling as much of your scent as he can. You release Zayne’s tie and hold your right hand between the two of you, “Lick m-my hand for me, yeah?”
Without a second thought, his teeth are sinking into the bottom edge of your palm before his tongue is running a long, striped lick up the entire length of your palm, and all the way up to your fingertips. Before you can pull away, he takes a few of your fingers into his mouth, sucking until you’re both moaning—eyes locked.
When he releases your fingers from his mouth, “T-thank you—nngh—good boy.” With a small smile that quickly breaks into a face full of pleasure, his brows knitted, he puts his face right back into the left side of your neck—never once having stopped his thrusting into your needy cunt.
Right beside you, you turn your gaze toward Zayne, his eyes flat in annoyance, already knowing your intentions. “Your punishment is now—o-oh—” you wrap your hand slick with Valko’s saliva around his hard cock, “mmm—you really are the biggest brat, huh?”
Groaning as you start to stroke him, he pushes forward until his mouth is on your neck again. With panting breaths, Zayne’s mouth ends up right near your ear again, “So naughty, you want him to cum inside you and me to cum on you, is that it?”
“Yes—h-holy fuck—y-yes—nngh!” Your vision blurs as the pair suck on your neck from opposing directions—pressure in every sense, from every angle, beating down onto you until you can’t take it anymore.
