Work Text:
ZAYNE
You come back to yourself gently, lightly, with tender kisses peppered across your forehead and cheeks. Zayne holds you close in the aftermath, murmuring sweet nothings to you as you float down from your climax.
"Welcome back," he smiles, green eyes crinkling down at you affectionately. You pull him down to rub your nose against his before seeking out his lips in a kiss.
The expert glide of his tongue against yours almost completely distracts from you what his hips are doing. With a quick twist of his hips, his length—which had still been buried inside of you—is freed from your depths. Almost immediately, you feel his seed dribble out of you, and you pull away from the kiss to cover your face in embarrassment.
"Shh, no, nothing to worry about," he reassures you, a large hand coming up to pet your hair soothingly. "I'll help you clean up, and then we can take a bath together. Does that sound good?"
You part your fingers enough to be able to peer out from between them. He meets your gaze with a quirk of his lips, and leans in to press a kiss over your knuckles until you nod in agreement, still too flustered to actually say anything.
Zayne doesn't push, although you have a feeling he might tease you about it later over dinner. Right now, though, he sweeps you up into his arms to carry you off into the bathroom just as promised.
RAFAYEL
Your knees threaten to buckle under the weight of him draped over you, but the arm encircled firmly around your waist ensure you are supported through the last throes of your orgasm. You gasp into the back of the couch, reveling at the sensation of liquid heat blooming inside you.
Rafayel leaves pecks along the line of your spine. His hand runs along the length of your flank soothingly until your legs finally stop trembling. With a last firm kiss to your shoulder blade, he withdraws from you.
Immediately, you feel yourself clenching around the empty space where he had just been, as if an hour of being fucked into the couch is still not enough for your body. He's making you insatiable. The thought of it makes you feel a little embarrassed, and you move to stand up yourself when a hand comes down to keep you in place.
"Hold on," Rafayel says. You oblige him but have no idea what he is planning until you feel a thumb at your lips, spreading them apart. The appreciative hum confirms that he is admiring his handiwork. The realization sends blood rushing to your cheeks.
"Rafayel!" you near screech, craning your neck to try to fix him with a glare.
With the way he is holding you open it is inevitable that his come eventually starts dripping out of you. He catches it on his finger, following the trail up to your reddened opening, and pushes the leakage back inside you.
"Perfect," he declares with all the satisfaction of a painter who has thoroughly made good use of his canvas.
XAVIER
It is a good thing that Hunter training has made you so flexible, otherwise the way you are bent over in half while Xavier holds you up by the legs and pours himself inside you would be significantly less comfortable.
He breathes heavily through his nose, cursing under his breath as his hips rock into you. Your inner walls tremble around the length of his cock as if encouraging every last drop out of him.
When he finally moves to pull out, you think that is the end of it. But no, Xavier is still holding your legs up to your chest, his piercing blue gaze fixed intently on your cunt. From the awkward angle, you can barely see what he is looking at, but you have a fairly good idea – you can feel yourself still not quite completely closed from how much he had stretched you wide, can feel his cum threatening to bubble up and out of you.
Xavier's eyes meet yours: wild, bright, unsatiated. He holds your gaze as he moves down, down, down until his mouth is flush with your folds.
"What are you doing?" you ask breathlessly, transfixed.
"Cleaning you up," he murmurs against your cunt, his cum and your juices and all, smiling wickedly before fastening his mouth over you and sending you tumbling over the edge again with that clever tongue of his.