gosuckseamonkeys

[gosuckseamonkeys]

Oh, to actually be his kitten 🥺

[gosuckseamonkeys]

5 o' clock, zayne

[gosuckseamonkeys]

sylus wake up my guy we need a snowcrow uni au comeback

AU list

snowcrow uni au intoduction

nerd sy

singing class

[gosuckseamonkeys]

sylus wake up my guy we need a snowcrow uni au comeback

AU list

snowcrow uni au intoduction

nerd sy

singing class

[gosuckseamonkeys]

My honest reaction:

[gosuckseamonkeys]

Caleb breaks the headboard…+18(mdni)

Caleb was careful when it came to you.

Unlike the average male, his body harbored enhanced strength that came with having a metal arm. As large as he was compared to you, for the most part, he was able to control himself during moments of intimacy. He was always worried that he’d squeeze you tight enough to leave marks on your skin.

Today was no exception, but he couldn’t help it. His restraint had been slipping with each thrust.

You were just too sweet to ignore. Too good for him.

His dark blue sheets made your sweaty, heated skin stand out. Situated on his knees behind you, his eyes took in the curve of your spine and the jiggle of your ass as it made contact with his hips. Sticky and wet, your skin met each other’s with a nasty smack.

“Fucking hell, honey…so pretty f’me.”

As an erotic moan fell from your swollen lips, the sheets doing the best they could to muffle the high-pitched sound, Caleb felt his metal fingers twitch. The fat of your hip protruded in between his fingers at the sudden shift in his grasp, leading to him curving himself against your back, his right arm coming to rest beside your head.

“Can feel-oh god, right there-feel s’deep, colonel.”

That fucking nickname was his kryptonite and now wasn’t the time for you to be calling him that.

His hand clenched, tugging at the sheets without mercy. He tried to ground himself, tucking his face against your neck and inhaling your scent. That wasn’t working.

“Please…gonna make me cum.” You squeaked out, your hand reaching for the one beside your head. “Gonna cum so hard on your cock, colonel.”

You cried out, feeling rejected as he pulled his hand out from your hold. He unfurled himself from your back and settled with gripping the wooden headboard with his metal arm.

“No, honey…Don’t wanna hurt you-can’t hurt you like that. Too precious to me.”

“But I wanna feel you against me. Need your warmth, Caleb…feel safe with you.”

Pushing yourself onto your knees and reaching behind to curl your arm around his neck, your back met his chest.

His flesh hand remained on your hip, holding you in place as he fucked you open. This new position had your eyes closing as your head fell back. Your moans were music to his ears and they were enough to make his resolve crack.

Tightening his hold on the headboard, his lips found yours, his tongue sneaking its way into your mouth. He slid his hand from your hip to your pelvis, fingers reaching for the swollen bundle of nerves. Your hips twitched from the overwhelming sensation brewing deep in your belly.

“Fuck, Caleb…I’m gonna-m’gonna cum-please, d-don’t stop.”

Your vision blurred as you came, cunt tensing up as you called out his name. At the same time, Caleb’s abdomen flexed tightly as he spilled his seed into you, groans falling from parted lips.

“S’good for me, honey. Always take my dick so well.”

He remained sheathed between your warm, spasming walls, his release staining your insides. He busied himself with littering your neck with kisses as you came to.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at the state of the headboard.

“Uh, Caleb?”

He pulled away from you, eyes following the direction you were looking at.

There were indents from his metal fingers and a large crack splitting the once-polished wood. As he released his hold on the lumber, little wooden flakes fell from his palm and onto the drool-stained pillows.

He sighed at the sight.

“Well, shit.”

[gosuckseamonkeys]

Zayne: Please focus. Has anyone ever told you it's rude to flirt with your medic?

MC, flirting: What can I say, you've been inside me so many times, I'd like to return the favor.

Zayne, blushing furiously: Wha- performing a surgery on you isn't the same as- oh my, you're so stupid.

[gosuckseamonkeys]

So...... Are we ready for the rafayel angst?!? Omg he is not even my main but I still love him and they did him right 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Fishie looks so handsome 👀

It inspired me to somewhat finish this old Sketch i did of a.... Hungry and sad siren raf

he just wants to eat you..... Why are you being mean to him?He is just a little guy. 😔

[gosuckseamonkeys]

LaDs Men When you Return from Dead

AN: Sorry Xavier nation but I could not think one for him. This is born out of my Red Rising read. I fooking love characters like Darrow. (Sorry Caleb)

Pairing: LaDS boys (minus Xavier) x gn reader

Genre: Hurt, angst, vengance

TW: Violence (kinda dark 🤷🏻)

Ingredients: 75% vengeance , 20% rage, 5% insanity

My Fav: Rafayel

(I don't own any of these character)

Background:

In the final moments of your consciousness, you see a hand.

One that doesn’t strike, but undoes. It tears you open, unleashes your heart, and unravels you with the gentlest of touches.

You claw at it. At them.

Your voice is hoarse, fading. “Stop—” you try to speak, but only blood answers, gurgling at your lips.

“Please…” Your plea drowns in agony as the world begins to dim. As your body folds inward. As the pain swallows you whole.

And then....You are gone.

Laid into the warm embrace of the earth. Not in peace, but in illusion.

The soil drinks from your split-open chest. Your blood soaks deep, sacred and cruel.

Your death becomes a gift. Begets life for millions.

Your warmth soothes the earth’s restless core. A final kindness forced from you.

And somewhere far above, the world breathes easier…

Never knowing the price it paid.

Caleb:

He did it for peace. For the world. Because they said there was no other way.

He held the dagger in trembling hands and whispered your name like a prayer, before driving it into your heart.

And then he stayed. Long after your breath left your body. Long after the light dimmed from your eyes.

He buried you beneath the willows, in soil that had never known blood. He marked the grave with nothing—no stone, no name, just silence. Because if the world ever learned where you rested, it would never stop digging.

Your heart was meant to be fuel. Too powerful for one life. Born to feed the Earth, to balance the scales.

He was meant to end you. But instead, he loved you.

And now, years later, he sees you again.

A shadow in the mist. A scythe in your hand. Eyes glowing faintly, like the embers of the day you died.

You don’t speak. You don’t have to.

The world tilts. His breath vanishes.

It’s you. His Pips. His heart. The weapon. The universe itself. The grave he dug with his own hands.

His knees give out. He drops, laughter cracking out of him like broken glass. High, hollow, uncontainable.

He failed.

He was supposed to end you.

And yet, here you are.

Alive. Unbroken. And returned.

He doesn’t know why you’ve come. To forgive. To destroy. To finish the story.

But he knows this: If you raise the blade against him, he will not run. He will not beg.

Because life without you was his penance. And death at your hands?

That would be mercy.

Rafayel:

He is lost. Not dazed. Not broken. Lost, in the deepest way a soul can be.

You find him on the shores of the Whitesand Bay, where the sky bleeds into the sea. He is little more than a ghost wrapped in flesh.

Hair tangled. Skin greyed with salt and frigid winds. Lips cracked, still mumbling fragments of songs the sea once sang through him.

He doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t see you. His eyes are glazed.

You step forward. Waves lap at your calves. Salt stings the cracks in your skin, but you don’t stop. You can’t. You kneel before him, trembling fingers threading through his matted hair.

“Rafayel…” your voice is a broken prayer. No answer. He rocks in place, arms wrapped around himself, clutching something invisible.

You cup his neck, gently. Pull your forehead to his. “Return to me,” you breathe. Nothing. But then... A flicker. A pulse beneath your fingers. Faint. Familiar.

You press closer, trembling. Not from the cold. From memory. “The Chosen of the Sea God demands justice,” you say, your voice low and sharp. “I demand vengeance.”

Still, no spark in his eyes. But his breath hitches. The first disruption in his otherwise machine-still form. You lean in, your voice cracking with fury. “Come to me, Rafayel.” Not a request. A summon.

You press your hand against his chest. Right where the bond was first carved into flesh. Inked not with runes, but with blood and worship of another time.

You whisper the words of evocation. And the mark beneath his collarbone, long dormant, burns faintly beneath your palm.

“I call what is mine,” you snarl. “Soul-bound, storm-marked, sea-born—I call you back.”

His lip trembles. His fingers twitch.

“I don’t want your love, Rafayel,” you growl, face inches from his. “I want your rage.” You kiss him. Not out of desire. But power and claim.

"Awaken, my revered,” you whisper. “Answer my worship. Return to me, or I will tear open the sea itself.” The wind howls in answer. You press your forehead to his. Breath shallow. And then, his hand lifts. Slowly. fingers graze your cheek. And grip.

He is trembling. His breath ragged. “I saw you,” he whispers. “In the waves. In every storm. In every scream the ocean tried to silence.”

You say nothing. Because he’s not fully here. Not yet.

But the sea begins to rise. And as the tide surges.

So does he.

Eyes burning now. Not with love. With vengeance. The bond has answered.

And the drowned god walks again.

Zayne:

A heart made of ice cracks not from fire, but from a single drop of water.

Zayne is gone upon your return.

Dead, maybe. Erased, certainly. As if he followed you into death… and chose to stay.

You look for him in shadows. In memory. In the ruins of his apartment. In the hospital he once worked in, now owned by a stranger.

There’s nothing left of him but dust. The world moved on. It buried your love like it buried you.

But you didn’t stay dead.

You returned. And now, in every mirror, every pane of glass, you see him.

Not as he was. But darker. Sharper. A wolf wearing a familiar skin.

And one night, he steps out of the reflection.

He pins you to your bed, ice pick raised, aimed at your eye. His eyes, Zayne’s eyes, stare down at you.

You twist. Shift your weight. Get on top. Knee to his gut. You’ve fought worse. You’ve died. This? This is just another ghost.

"Where is he?!" you scream, teeth bared.

He struggles. But he’s not the real Zayne. This version is built for combat. A weapon.

But you have died. And death leaves its mark.

You dig your knee deeper into him. Grip his hair. Slam him back. Your blade flashes, pressed against his neck. One more inch and this doppelganger will be nothing but blood and apology.

"Where is my Zayne?" you demand again, voice cracking. “Tell me!”

He smirks. Programmed to provoke you.

You see it now, what they did. They made a monster in his image.

To torment you. To finish the act they failed to. To ensure your love becomes your execution.

But he made one mistake. He underestimated your grief. You knock him out with the hilt of your blade. Hard. He crumples like a marionette with cut strings. You kneel beside him, panting. Shaking. Your chest aches with fury and sorrow.

You will keep him. You will use him. You will rip your Zayne back from the edge of existence. Drag him from whatever place they buried his soul.

This one, this twisted mirror of him, will help you. Because if he wears your love’s face, then he will kneel when you command. He will bleed for your cause.

And when you find the real Zayne...

Gods help them all.

Sylus:

You parry the blow too late.

The fist connects with your ribs. A brutal thud, and you feel something crack. You fly backward, slamming into the bleachers. Wood splinters. Pain flares. The world tips.

You can’t breathe. Your mask is slipping.

The crowd roars, unfeeling and merciless. You hear them above the ringing in your ears. Blood rushes through your skull with a roar. You taste iron and sweat.

He comes for you again, your opponent. The masked serpent. A fighter who favors his fists over the sword he was given. His eyes, red and wild behind the steel mesh of his helm.

You raise your blade out of instinct, not hope. It’s no use.

His hands find your throat. And squeeze.

The world narrows. You’ve lived through worse. Hunger that made you eat leather. Silence that lasted so long you forgot how your voice sounded. A name that was taken from you and never returned.

Death is familiar. Almost kind. It would be easier to let go.

Your fingers twitch. Your mask slips. And then...Crack.

He slams your head into the wood. Stars bloom in your vision. The world blurs. The crowd roars louder. The taste of blood is thick now. You’re fading.

Then—air. Sudden.

He stops.

You blink through your broken helmet, expecting a killing blow. Instead, you see his fist frozen in midair. Inches from your face.

His breathing is ragged. “You live,” he whispers.

You don’t understand.

His mask is tilting. His knees hit the ground. He crawls towards you. No better than a beast. “You live…” he says again, voice cracking.

And in the haze of concussion, pain, and blood, something stirs in you too. Because those eyes...those maddened, tear-bright eyes, were once warm. Once familiar.

You flinch when he reaches for you, and he stops. There’s silence now. The crowd holds its breath.

He stares at your face, now half-exposed, your mask broken and slick with sweat and blood.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers. “I thought they killed you.”

You say nothing. Can’t say anything.

Your ribs hurt. Your head pounds. And yet, your heart slams wildly, not from fear, but the tenderness in his gaze.

He knows you. Or worse, he once loved you.

You watch as something ancient and terrible blooms behind his eyes.

Wrath. Not for you. But for the ones who took you. Who made you forget. Who made him fight you.

And the arena falls silent, because they all feel it too. The serpent has remembered his name. And the Reaper is no longer alone.

[gosuckseamonkeys]

caleb | 3:42 AM

“Caleb! Caleb, wake up!”

Caleb hasn’t had a night terror in weeks, but the one he’s currently having is the worst he’s had in a while. His whimpers had woken you first, followed by his violent trembling. You place a hand on his shoulder – his skin is cold and clammy. You try to shake him awake but he twitches in your grip, still muttering in his sleep.

“Mmph–please…” he gasps, his eyes still shut tight. He thrashes around in the bed, his hands clawing at his bare chest. “No… don’t–”

You sit up in bed, your grogginess dissipating instantly. You attempt to wake him again, shaking him a little harder this time.

“Caleb, hey! Wake up!”

He gasps as he bolts upright in the bed, and you wrap him in your arms immediately. His elbows are locked, his entire torso stiff. You hug him tightly as he continues to quake in your embrace and gasp for air. He begins to relax as you continue to hold him, his gasps eventually turning into stifled sobs. A lump forms in your throat while you pull his head in towards your chest. You’ve sat with him through several night terrors already, but each time still feels like a knife straight to your heart.

“It’s okay, it’s just a nightmare,” you assure him, stroking his head. Your fingers lock into a few tufts of his hair, tugging at them gently, trying to provide him with any sort of comforting sensation to pull him back to the waking world.

His arms wrap around your waist, his fingers gripping at your shirt. His sobs start to give way to long shaky breaths, and he keeps his face buried in your shirt, his tears and sweat making it damp. You rock him gently as he continues to come out of his nightmare.

“P-pipsqueak,” he mumbles into your chest. “Tell me that’s you. Tell me y-you’re here with me.”

“It’s me, I’m right here,” you tell him, your words echoing his own. 

You pull him away from your chest, and he keeps his gaze down, avoiding yours. You hold his face up to your own, your thumbs swiping at the tears in the corners of his eyes. “Can you feel this?”

Your lips replace your thumbs and you kiss his right eye, pecking away at the tears. You move on to his left one, doing the same, kissing his tears away. 

Caleb nods, his eyes closed, his eyelashes still wet. He sighs as his body slackens – he’s finally relaxed completely. 

You keep him cradled in your arms as he drifts back to sleep, praying that no more bad dreams will plague him, at least for the rest of the night. You listen as his breaths become slower. His arms are still around your waist, but they no longer have that vice-like clamp on it. 

You settle back down onto your pillow, careful not to jostle him too roughly. You maintain your embrace around him, watching as his eyelids flutter gently. Your hand reaches up to his cheek, stroking it as soft snores escape his partially parted lips. In that moment, you swear to yourself that you’ll fight off any nightmare he has, even if that means sacrificing your own sleep.

[gosuckseamonkeys]

Rafayel just doing what he's told

See the full pic on bsky or tooter

[gosuckseamonkeys]

zayne edges you the first time he tastes you.

it's not on purpose. it’s just, in all his years in the OR, he's never heard noises quite like this.

the swishes of his tongue around your dripping wet heat. the pop of his mouth teasing your puffy clit. the sultry, silken sighs that escape your lips. 

they’re lewd. all-consuming.

and to be the cause of them…

it makes him a little bit shy.

he can’t keep his pace like this. each time you near your peak, the sounds crescendo, and he’s too flustered to take you over the edge. his movements slow, his licks slacken, and he’s a mumbling mess between your thighs—whispering his disbelief, his luck, his gratitude. he starts and stops and starts again, prolonging your pleasure without even meaning to. 

by the time you start begging, he thinks he’s hurt you somehow—until your fingers tangle in his hair and hold him close to your core, preventing any more pauses. he adds another sound to the mix—a sheepish apology against your slick skin—before finally finishing what he started, only pulling away when your release coats his rosy pink cheeks.

[gosuckseamonkeys]

The purple to my pink

[gosuckseamonkeys]

More AU Sylus (and MC)

Just needed to exercise my hand. 🤷‍♀️

[gosuckseamonkeys]

when he's sick 🌡

[gosuckseamonkeys]

the sea god and his beloved bride.

sea god rafayel in heat / ebb day

mdni. 18+ only.

Rafayel is burning up.

Despite being in the frigid water of his pool in the center of the Sea God's Temple, he feels hot under your touch. More scales have appeared on the frame of his flushed face, shining under the moonlight beaming through the windows.

"Don't come any closer."

Rafayel's low, deep voice shakes as he forces himself to move away from you, when all he wanted was to pull you close and hold you tightly; to feel the warmth of your body against his.

"It's... dangerous for you to be this close..."

"Rafayel..." Ignoring his warning, you pushed yourself close to him. "I want to help you. Please let me make you feel better."

He closes his eyes and sighs as your soft fingers trails down his neck.

The way you make him feel just from light touches... maybe you were the dangerous one.

You have no idea what power you have over him.

"Okay."

You slowly slide down the tips of your fingers from his neck to his collar bones, then to his chest, lingering on the scales that are scattered on his skin just like shimmering stars on the night sky.

As he leans closer towards you, a soft moan falls from his parted lips while his face tints to a deeper shade of red.

Your eyes widened slightly, pausing to replay the sound in your head.

You wanted to hear it again.

And again.

And again.

"...need more...." He whispers, nuzzling his face against your hands as they darted up to caress his cheeks. "You...feel so good..."

His words lit your body on fire.

Blood rushes to your face and to your core, causing you to rub your thighs together as you scooted closer towards his pool.

You had an idea what was happening to him.

You've heard about it long ago, that Lemurians go through something like being in heat, just once every year, when the tide is low, and it flows in opposite direction.

As an effect of hormonal changes, Lemurians become extremely sensitive and their sexual desires intensify. Their body temperature drastically increases, only settling until the day is over and the tide returns to its normal flow.

It's also when the Lemurians are at their weakest.

That's why Rafayel hasn't left his pool, or chamber, as he likes to call it. All day, he'd been in the temple, hiding himself even from you. He said it's dangerous for you to be close to him, but you know he won't hurt you in anyway.

You are the Sea God'd bride.

You want to help him.

You want to offer yourself to him.

"Rafayel." You brushed some strands of his hair away from his face. "I want to feel you — more of you."

His eyes snaps wide open, looking at you with shock. "Do you know what you're saying?! I could hurt you if I lose control — "

You leaned forward to kiss his forehead, and he immediatelt softens up. "You won't hurt me. I trust you, Rafayel. Will you let me make you feel good?"

A noise that was a mixture of a moan and a whine slips out of his mouth, and it strengthens your need to run your hands all over him.

"Please... make me feel good, my beloved bride."

You didn't hesitate to jump in the pool with him.

You kept your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself afloat, though there was no need for it as Rafayel's arms wrapped around your waist to pull your body against his.

The water is cold, and his body is hot. Although your body is soaked, all of your senses are focused on him.

You only feel him.

As you placed your lips on his, Rafayel immediately deepens the kiss, with his hands gently caressing your body.

You can feel his desperation, but also his self-control. His touches are light, as if to make sure he doesn't accidentally hurt you.

But you wanted him to let loose and stop restraining himself — you want him to give in to his body's urges, just like how you're giving in to your own desires.

You pressed yourself harder against him and let your right hand go further down below his hips.

The scales of his tail shifted instantly, almost like they're softening up at your touch.

Rafayel brushes himself against your legs, and then you feel something hard pressing on your right thigh.

It wasn't visible before, but after his scales shifted, you now feel his cock brushing against your thighs as Rafayel slowly rocks his hips against your figure, chasing after your warmth.

He lets out a sigh of pleasure as you grinded yourself against him, your clothed core briefly touching the tip of his cock.

He continues to rut into you, causing the water to dance all around your entangled figures. His soft cries echo throughout the empty, quiet temple, and the scales on his face glistens under the moonlight.

Your right hand slides farther down his hips, and Rafayel closes his eyes and grunts as your fingers find his cock, feeling his entire length twitching with the urge to be buried in you.

Your insides clenched with arousal. Your mouth waters before you softly sank your teeth on his neck, then you sucked on his skin to leave your mark on the Sea God.

Rafayel finds it impossible to stop himself from thrusting into your hand, hips eratically stuttering on its own as he craves for friction.

You feel so good, and he needed more.

He needed to feel you.

All of you.

"Wait..."

It takes all his strength to tear himself away from you, even if it's just for a brief moment.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He smiles and kisses your lips to interrupt your concern.

Rafayel pulled your body across his chest and held you bridal-style before leaving the pool. His tail turns into human legs, and he brings you over by the window, setting you down on the purple chaise lounge chair that you're often resting on when chatting with him.

"I want to take you like this. Here." He wants you to feel comfortable and for the both of you to be able to move without any restraint.

As he hovers on top of you, you take a moment to appreciate his beauty.

His long hair sways at the side of his face as the cold sea breeze moves through the windows, his eyes glowing brightly, pupils dilated as he gazes down at you, and the markings on his face shimmering to match his glowering expression.

Now more than ever, you find yourself wondering how lucky you are to be the Sea God's bride. To be the one that gets to see him like this, the one to feel him like this... are you truly worthy?

But with the way he's looking at you right now, he makes you feel as if you are special.

You feel as if this is where you belong.

With him.

"Rafayel..."

You called out his name, yet you're lost for the right words that could properly express your feelings.

And so, you pulled him down and kissed him again, letting your actions give the message.

You feel him smile against your lips. His legs settles between yours, and his hips presses down against your thighs, his hardened cock brushing against your cunt.

A soft groan from your mouth gets muffled by Rafayel's deep, wet kisses while he continues to rub his cock against you. You spread your legs wider for him, and his right hand dives to your underwear to feel your folds, right before inserting two fingers inside you.

You arched your back as he moves his hand in and out of you.

"W—wait, I'm supposed to be the one that's m—making you feel good..."

Rafayel lets out a low chuckle, eyes refusing to blink and look away from your face even for a second. You look so pretty, falling apart underneath him, just from his fingers.

"You've no idea how you're making me feel right now, just seeing you like this... his lips makes contact with your neck before his teeth nips your skin. "Forgive me if I get a little rough..." he moves lower to your chest to leave a mark identical to the one above. "The sweet sounds you're making ...it's driving me crazy..."

Then, you feel him going inside you.

Slowly.

Carefully.

The tip of his cock traces your folds before easing into your core, inch by inch, throbbing impatiently to get to the deepest part of you.

Rafayel gasps loudly as you squeeze him tight.

You could've made him come then and there, had it not for him using up his entire strength to stay still.

But you're making it so difficult.

You're so warm and so tight.

You're taking him in so well. He wanted to move, to take you hard and fast.

But he doesn't.

Not yet.

He wants to take his time.

You've graciously offered him yourself, and he wants to savor this gift for as long as he could.

And so, he starts off slowly.

Rafayel slides in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, drilling into his memory how you feel, and how you look when his cock his buried deep inside you.

While his hands wander throughout your body, he busies his mouth with your breasts, making sure to appreciate every inch of you.

He wants you to know how precious you are to him, despite having only shared a little bit of time together in this lifetime.

Though as much as he wanted to remember your lives together from his past, particularly to the time when you've forged your covenant, what matters is here and now.

Rafayel peppers soft kisses all over your face before moving a little faster and harder, forcing sharp groans out of his mouth and yours.

You lightly grazed your fingernails down on his back as you pulled him even closer to you, wanting to feel his heartbeat against your own.

You then tugged on his hair on the back of his head, and Rafayel's breath becomes ragged.

His eyes roll back with pleasure right before he pulls out of you and suddenly your hips and thighs have been painted white. Rafayel's cock twitches as ropes of cum spills onto your skin, loud moans ringing against your ears and making you clench yet again.

As Rafayel takes a moment to catch his breath, you pulled on his arm and flipped him over so that he's now lying down on the lounge chair.

You settled on his lap and grinded your pussy against his sensitive cock, still hard and throbbing from his orgasm.

You ran a hand across his chest to feel his skin, still burning up like a stubborn fever.

"I promised to make you feel better, didn't I?" Rafayel breathes out slowly, intertwining your fingers together. "Let me take care of you, Rafayel."

Unlike him that started off slowly, you began at a quickened pace at the very moment his cock is swallowed by your hole.

He's unable to hold back his moans as he watches you bounce on his thighs, drops of sweat clinging on your forehead while your parted lips echoes the noises that he'd been making.

The Sea God temple is filled with the lewd noises emitted by your bodies, barely silenced by the waves of the sea right outside.

His chest heaves up and down, breath hitching as his body drowns with ecstasy. His hips moved on its own and started to thrust upwards at the same time your weight presses down onto him.

It's too much, but still, not enough.

Rafayel sat up and rested his hands on your ass, encouraging you to take him harder and faster.

The chair screeched at your movement, though neither of you could care to notice as you chased your high together.

Your insides tightens up and your hips stutter. You warned him that you'll be reaching your climax soon, but Rafayel couldn't find it in him to slow down. And so, he ends up covered with your own juices as you squirted all over his cock.

Still, he doesn't stop.

His heart is racing even faster, and his mind feels as if it had gone blank.

No thoughts.

Just you.

After coming for the second time, he doesn't give himself time to recover before picking you up and pinning you against the cold wall of the temple. With his cock still leaking, Rafayel pounds into you again and again and again.

He only paused for a second to let you catch your breath, seeing you gasping for air. His eyes flickers outside of the window, directing his gaze to the waves of the sea.

"The tide is still low, my beloved."

It wasn't an innocent observation, but a fair warning.

For as long as the moon is out and the tide is flowing like this, his body won't calm down. It'll claim what it wants, for as long as he wants, however he wants.

"I'm all yours, Rafayel."

[gosuckseamonkeys]

How much longer must I wait for you to fall in love with me? [♡]