[ A voice in the back of her head, the small bit not clouded by the instincts of her monster form, calls out to her, scolds her. Yes, M had said at the beginning that it didn’t matter what she did with whom, that wasn’t the kind of relationship they had. There was nothing wrong with what they were doing, but… Linden was such a sensitive topic for M. Someone Alex was so certain he had deep feelings for, even if he won’t say it out loud. Knowing that pricked at her heart, wondering how much this could hurt him. But what of her own feelings? The fondness for her teacher and friend that had built over the past few months. A connection formed through M, tended to and maintained because of his loss, but solidified because of their own time together. Their closeness was as natural emotionally as it was physically, just like their proximity now.
His hips were close enough for him to graze his length along her slit, though her hand doesn’t guide him just yet. Did Linden even want to go that far? His movements fluctuated between keen interest and uncertainty, desire and restraint. What if what happened between him and M happened with them?
But the more his fingers dove in, curled, and pleasured her, the more her greed was amplified by those feral instincts. She liked Linden, wanted to be closer to him, to feel good with him, to find that connection from their temporary bond in another way. But her hands slide to his shoulders over his shoulders, hugging him tight. She had every intention of making him feel good, to get him off if that’s what he wanted, but she’ll let him decide how. Though she might be urging a particular way with how she rolls her hips against his, grinding his tail against soft scales. Did he still doubt that she wanted him…? Because her doubts were fading away. ]
[L is likewise not technically tethered to anyone. He's admitted attraction to Myr, and accepted that it's not what's best for him at this time, if reluctantly. He's astonished at how much Light's very soul seems to pull at his, culminating in explosive physical chemistry that is definitely not what's best for him. Prospective romances who actually know him, the way a close friend or a Bond would, are aware that sex complicates him, makes him vulnerable, seems shackled with unspoken but highly palpable baggage and pitfalls. His history, beginning abruptly and intensely in Aefenglom a few months after his arrival, does not dispel the notion; getting this close to L was impossible, for years, for a reason. The potential to absolutely destroy him by offering a hand of friendship, the suggestion of kinship and mutual understanding, is one he responds to like a child led, willing to manufacture any trust he does not feel so he can feel a connection with another being, however brief.
Myr is terrified of this trust and the power it could give him over his Bonded. Light, doubtless, is well aware of how he could use it to his advantage. But Alex has no deeper knowledge, no ulterior motives, no reason to try and break him down this way. To her, he's just a slightly-starved man, a lonely friend, a teacher not inappropriately older she admires intellectually.
They're just getting to know each other better, in a world that rewards and encourages multiple connections of this sort. Whatever he might know in his heart, he can convince himself on an intellectual level that this is not inherently a betrayal of Mello.]
I... don't have any sort of prophylactic, or..
[His words are murmured quickly, hinting at sheepishness, enough to absolutely communicate the practical concern he has. He's never had reason to worry about being the cause of a pregnancy before.
He probably doesn't, now; in fact, he rather assumes his own sterility as a result of medically complicating his body's growth and sexual maturity for years. But it's a way, isn't it, of communicating what he wants, where he wants to venture next, an apology that's also a way of surreptitiously asking if she can hold him with the velvety heat of her body, the way she holds him with her arms.
The roll of her hips dislodges his fingers; his hand goes to the small of her back, a place where scales and skin blend into one another. He pulls her close, hides his face against her cheek. There's nothing in the way now; a shift of the hips from either of them could slot them neatly together, but there's something almost blessed about the pain of wanting, the ache unfolding his curled limbs and radiating blindly toward a goal.]
Oh. She’s assuming he means a condom? That’s usually what comes to mind at this point. Even now she’s learning things, something she smiles about to herself as she nuzzles against his face affectionately. Her fingers tuck some of wet strands of black hair behind his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ]
It’s okay…you don’t need it.
[ She doesn’t say this recklessly, of course. It seemed more than mere luck to not have been knocked up with what she’s done during her stay here. She could only assume that she’s unable to have any, whether that’s an effect of becoming a monster or having traveled worlds, Alex hadn’t thought about too much.
Cupping his cheek, she turns him to face her, letting the kiss linger a moment, relishing the mixed taste of salty water and sweets. ]
I don’t mind.
[ She reassures against his lips, blue eyes slowly opening to meet his. They were painfully close, mere threads of worries holding them back, snapping one after the other. ]
I want you.
[ An assertion, not a suggestion, not a hope. Just clear, honest want. ]
[In this situation, L is really like any other man. Predictable, maybe pathetically so. Reduced to a single panting urge, even his most considerate thoughts are drawn to a swollen, red point.
He nods; whether or not she knows or guesses his situation, he believes her when she reassures him, seals it with an indulgent kiss on the lips. He sinks into it, feels it pulling him like the sand at his knees and the appetite between their hips.
Her words cause him to freeze, glancing up, breath catching. Those three words, coming from someone desired, are so very powerful. It's more than being allowed, it's being invited; it's enough for him to read the accurate sincerity, and answer with careful, shuddering intrusion past scales, into muscle like silk.]
[ She tried to hold his gaze, but as he pushes in deeper, her eyes can’t help but close at finally receiving the contact she’s been craving. It was such a base desire, but how could she deny the sensations of it. While this wasn’t the peak of it, it was closer than they were earlier, each step forward its own reward.
Her head tilts back slowly, the cool water doing nothing to the heat of her body as she arched of the sand, seeking more of him, pushing against his weight. She’s careful not to dig her claws in too deep, drawing light pink lines along his back as she draws him towards her. ]
[There's a tense and strange moment where L is frozen, feeling disassociated. Is this hungry, demanding thing a part of him at all, or something disembodied?
The prick of her claws is a grounding reminder of where he is, what he's doing, where he retains control and agency. He presses more deeply at her urging, feeling the head of his member press past firm ridges that squeeze him as he goes. They squeeze in such a snug way, in fact, that he momentarily forgets that there are men more well-endowed than he is.
The pulsing instinct is such a natural thing. Alex knows it, and urges it; L's body knows the same. This is another thing that seems to vary little between male and female bodies; the one encased will want to move, and do so at a pace that suits him, that carves pleasingly at the hunger he feels behind his navel. He impales with what he has, stopping only when no more length can be spared and their bodies are fully joined, panting raggedly. He pulls away only so he can feel the slide of her inner walls against him, the contoured squeeze and sweetness, as he plunges in again, more quickly, with the confidence of one who has felt it before.]
[ Alex can barely control her tail from moving on its own, her more primal mind wanting to wrap herself around him and move him herself. But Linden wasn’t prey to her or some poor fool she could play with on a full moon. That is not to say she didn’t feel good at that moment, the slow drag of his shaft along her walls spreading pleasure like an unfurling ribbon up her spine.
And then it becomes a strong jolt, his next thrust more assertive, more purposeful, her back curving as a gasp is pushed out of her. ]
[L might not be prey, but there are ways he doesn't particularly mind being taken hold of. Narrow-boned and slight as he is, his place in couplings with other men is more typically a submissive one. He doesn't view it as emasculating; it would be worse to fail at screwing someone else, like someone diminutive attempting to reach a shelf too high with no stool. Hopping up and down, ineffectual, reaching without success for a goal that is obvious to all.
Alex might be being kind, by letting him be on top, permitting him this attempt at earnest lovemaking. It could be a generous token to let him actually try when no late night in any dark bar would have ever led to an encounter like this one. It's an intense exercise in trust, as well, because the road to coming feels like a tense walk atop a tightrope, at times, in constant battle with his paranoia and self-doubt.
Terrible distractions, all things considered, when he's hugged so tightly and wreathed in a space that feels made for this purpose. It urges and prompts movement, and his mouth returns to her neck to kiss at the gills there as he establishes a brisk rhythm that only falters at first. Both of his hands grasp her hips, now, creating a mental and physical boundary to pulse toward.
He's probably sterile. Even so, the notion of spilling over inside of her tight confines is exciting, makes him throb so hard in anticipation that he is careful to rein back his pace. Is it because a part of him relishes the risk? Some loosely-defined and latent desire to procreate? Or does he just want to leave his mark on someone Mello feels jealous over?
He drives a bit faster, a bit harder, fingertips grasping at Alex's hipbones, teeth grazing her neck. He wants to leave the kind of small, sucking bruise that would incite questions; he does not, recognizing that it would hardly be fair to his benevolent partner. He's a thief in the night; he need not be a brazen one.]
[ Another moan rolls past her lips as he sucks at her neck, fingers lost in dark hair as she keeps him close. She could feel everything like this, down to how he throbbed inside of her, her muscles contracting in excitement at the thought of him getting closer to filling her. He moves faster now, harder even, something was grateful for. Even the way he pressed his fingers into her hips encouraged her to move against him, meeting his thrusts.
His lips felt so good against her neck, pleasantly surprised with how good it felt. Did he even know how sensual he could be with them? ]
[The occasional nudge of water behind and beneath them might make it more wieldy, but he's surprised at how nimbly and lithely the merrow meets his thrusts, twists around him, wrings him for the most of what he has to offer.
He risks slipping as the sea and sands recede, planting his knee, the practical movement pushing him with greater force and vigor into the tight slit of the scaled tail between his knees. He shudders, the pulsing ache growing more difficult to ignore as he thrusts past the give of unexpectedly soft scales . Everything is burdened and begs for release; his lower abdomen, within and without, is in a cycle of pressure, dire want, straining towards a goal he knows he should delay. A good lover would; the compliment of a speedy and irresistible orgasm rings hollow when a partner is left wanting.
It's easier with men, he realizes. Climax is stuttering, messy, unmistakable. There's something inaccessible and mysterious about a woman's, when those folds seem to clench at will, when any lusty moan sends shivers of excitement trickling down between his shoulderblades.
He angles himself hopefully, possibly grazing the apex of her delta in a way that might bring her pleasure. He feels blinded, infantile, and humbled by his lack of knowledge, but the ache drives him, and in spite of his blindness, he pursues.]
[ Alex can feel him shifting above her, the way his knees try to find purchase on the sand. It hits her belatedly that this would be difficult for him, not being an aquatic monster himself. Should she stop him for a moment, as much as she loathed the thought, to move them to higher ground? But there wasn’t any hesitation in his movements, if anything, there was determination behind them. So much so that she feels herself tense as he drives into her from different angles, stirring her from within. It hasn’t occurred to Alex, that he was doing it for her. ]
Lin—-
[ Again she tenses, much more violently this time as he grazes a particularly sensitive spot, cutting herself off with a gasp before she can check in with him. ]
[It seems too favorable an outcome, to be real. He's momentarily taken out of it, flummoxed, but she's so honest. He's demanded that she look in his eyes before as she speaks so that he can ascertain the truth, and he saw no lie then; clutched inside of her living flesh, now, he is equally certain that Alex's reactions aren't theatrical performances meant to stroke his ego.
He doesn't mind the challenge. He doesn't mind the sand or the surf, and his own phylax is in fact in her element just offshore. He's never in his life backed away from something difficult, or decided that anything he wanted was just too much trouble because he was inconvenienced. At this moment, he wants Alex, and he wants to come, and he wants her to come. If she comes, after all, it means that she is not thinking of the bird's-eye view of his bony ass beating up and down, pale and comical as his thin limbs scramble for purchase on the ever-shifting bank.
What's firm, and certain, is the fact that he is nestled to the hilt in stroking, indulgent darkness.]
[ If she doubted whether he was alright with this, the way he rutted against her answered that well enough. She wondered if he was doing it on purpose, keeping at that same angle after that, but her thoughts were soon muddled with heightened pleasure, a tightness coiling in her stomach. Despite how attentive her partners have been in Aefenglom, Alex still found it so novel for the other party to care for her pleasure, to not only seem their own.
Red lines marred his back as her nails dragged across him, doing her best not to sink her claws him in an attempt to draw him even closer. She was close, the way she twitched and squeezed around his cock more than telling. ]
[He is a fast and fixated learner. That’s always been the case, and likely always will be. He knows that whatever he’s doing with his cock is yielding a desirable and sincere result; he’s confident that it exceeds Alex’s acting skills. Even if he’s wrong, and it’s all pretense? He’s sure he can overlook it for this shimmering rush, this enthralling home stretch before he pumps all of he pent-up longing into one willing and open.
Her claws are a sharp reminder that the woman he’s gripping by the hips and driving against the wet sand is a monster. He shivers; the pain is not precisely a turn-on for him, but it’s grounding. He needs that sometimes, and knows it. He needs to remember that this flesh is his, and he’ll make her come so he can let go, himself.]
[ It takes a few more of those perfectly angled thrusts before she finally climaxes, her tail slapping hard against the water and sand as it arches to meet him, her whole body shuddering as she muffles a cry against him, filling her senses with his touch, his scent, his taste.
Her walls convulse around him, squeezing tight and milking him for everything he had to offer. Pleasure washes over her like a wave, keeping her under as she trembles beneath.
[Likely, it feels longer than it is, more of a labor however sweet, because of what an effort he expends not relinquishing his hold on himself. He could, and he doesn't doubt that it would be sublime, a moment of explosive bliss to cloud his thoughts in a way that drugs or alcohol never could with their soggy prolonged stupor. Wouldn't it also be thoughtless, barbaric and inelegant, something of a faux pas?
He tries, holding back more than he wants to, his rutting thrusts gentle enough as to be almost careful. He likes the way she smells, revels in the way she feels as she slides against his cock's measured movements, and when he feels her clench around him like some satin-gloved and dextrous fist, he knows it can't be long.
He buries his face against her shoulder as his pace quickens and harshens in tempo. The inevitable emission feels like an indiscretion, something rude and disgraceful. More so because it's been so long, has massed in his loins and grown full and heavy.
When he does, he comes and comes into her tender warmth, clutching her hips with both hands, breath catching and cheeks burning against her soft neck as he spills and can't seem to stop until, panting, it relents and he feels suddenly soft and spent. He simply breathes atop her for a few moments, the last aching phantom twitches nestled and buried as he sighs.]
[ His breath tickles her neck, her scales sensitive to his heat. It was almost fascinating, having been used to seeing Linden be so calm and collected, now disheveled, panting, gripping her tight as he empties himself into her. It’s a pity, that he won’t let her see his face, the kind if expression he was making in the throes of pleasure.
The merrow turns enough to nuzzle against the side of his head, pressing soft, lazy kisses to his temple, trying to let him know she was pleased. Her monstrous side could certainly keep going, but she was sated enough to not want to push him like that. ]
[His breath shudders as the sounds leave him. He tries to gauge whether or not it's a good time to withdraw, whether the continued intimacy is good, or his increasingly slackening member is humiliating.
He defaults to staying, for just a moment. Maybe a moment will present itself to disentangle that feels natural.]
Thank you, for that...
[Sincere, grateful. It's significant that he does not assume she would require money, for the displeasure of letting him press his sputtering, mucusy output into her body. Where it resides, now, substantial, sticky and warm, seeming to melt their joined flesh together.
He clears his throat. It sounds hilariously formal and professorial given the current circumstances.]
[ The show of gratitude was oddly…flattering? She can’t help but chuckle fondly as she keeps him close with a hug, rolling them over so she could get a proper look at his face, her hair falling around them as she looks down at him warmly. Reaching up, she brushes stray locks away from his face, gently caressing his cheek.
Their new position also keeps him snug inside of her, some of his seed dripping down around the base where they connected. ]
I thought so too. That you were really good.
[ Considering it was his first time, and with a merrow on the shore at that. What could he do in more favorable conditions, she wondered. ]
[The shift in position causes his overlarge eyes to widen; the curtain of wet hair is decidedly erotic. He could be hard again in a few minutes, he's sure, even if coming again makes him wince, the thought of a dry and empty chamber in a gun, pulling the trigger.]
You don't have to-
[Say that, claim that, flatter me in that way, but maybe it's true? Maybe something nice can be true for a change.]
I'd do it again...
[Neither of them are addressing the elephant in the room. Someone they both know, someone who won't like that this happened for multiple layers of reasons.
Best to speak of it when they're not steeped in each other, perhaps. He tries not to think of how he will flop like a boned fish outside of her when she raises her tail off of him.]
[ Now? She thinks, the merrow in her quite pleased with the thought, her ears perking and her eyes twinkling with excitement, the soft muscles of her tail squeezing around him. But…it dawns on her that he might another time, elsewhere, outside of this cave.
No longer away from the subject neither of them have brought up, choosing to drown themselves in seemingly innocent passion. But someone was affected by all this, someone that Alex particularly cared for.
How selfish was it of her, to crave for both of them. ]
Can we?
[ once they leave this place? Again the debate of what was harmless and what wasn’t starts to creep into her mind. ]
We can... I'm not with anyone else, not officially.
[Nothing wrong with it. No sin, no deception. He wouldn't lie to Light about this, or Myr. Or Near, although he thinks that the latter would care the least of all his Bonded.
There's another successor, though. One who might care, just as much as Near wouldn't.]
[ Which was true, really. But…it’s more of who Linden was that made it complicated. Because of the nature of their relationship, Alex was certain he wouldn’t ‘not’ care about this.
Her gaze lowers a moment, crossing her hands over his chest to lean down, her mind wandering to how to approach her Bonded about this. ]
M said it didn’t matter to him who I’m with, but…
[ Meeting his eyes again, she knows Linden is smart enough to know why she’s concerned. ]
[The conversation is an awkward one when his softening body is still buried in hers, his seed dripping down onto his stomach. He swallows, reaches for a nearby seashell to center himself. His thumbs stroke it as the color remains high and bright in his cheeks.]
Why should I be different?
[Soft, still defiant. In spite of knowing, L should be allowed to be like any other lover Alex might take, blithely wreathing himself in her scent of sea spray.
[ Did he still not know until now…? He was more observant than that, she thought. She gives it a moment, as if he might answer the question himself, but then she continues. ]
You’ve… always been different.
[ And maybe part of her curiosity of him stemmed from that. How he affected M as much as he did, what kind of person was his mentor? The mentor who somehow became her own teacher, changing their odd and awkward dynamic of random encounters on the street to intentional meets ups that she looked forward to. But her fondness for Linden was nothing like what M felt, something she could only tap into sometimes through their bond.
If she really thought about it, a part of her might’ve been jealous even. But how much more terrible a reason would that be? Her fingers trace over his chest idly, trying to distract her from her own thoughts. ]
You’ve mattered to him for a long time. More than anyone else, I think.
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His hips were close enough for him to graze his length along her slit, though her hand doesn’t guide him just yet. Did Linden even want to go that far? His movements fluctuated between keen interest and uncertainty, desire and restraint. What if what happened between him and M happened with them?
But the more his fingers dove in, curled, and pleasured her, the more her greed was amplified by those feral instincts. She liked Linden, wanted to be closer to him, to feel good with him, to find that connection from their temporary bond in another way. But her hands slide to his shoulders over his shoulders, hugging him tight. She had every intention of making him feel good, to get him off if that’s what he wanted, but she’ll let him decide how. Though she might be urging a particular way with how she rolls her hips against his, grinding his tail against soft scales. Did he still doubt that she wanted him…? Because her doubts were fading away. ]
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Myr is terrified of this trust and the power it could give him over his Bonded. Light, doubtless, is well aware of how he could use it to his advantage. But Alex has no deeper knowledge, no ulterior motives, no reason to try and break him down this way. To her, he's just a slightly-starved man, a lonely friend, a teacher not inappropriately older she admires intellectually.
They're just getting to know each other better, in a world that rewards and encourages multiple connections of this sort. Whatever he might know in his heart, he can convince himself on an intellectual level that this is not inherently a betrayal of Mello.]
I... don't have any sort of prophylactic, or..
[His words are murmured quickly, hinting at sheepishness, enough to absolutely communicate the practical concern he has. He's never had reason to worry about being the cause of a pregnancy before.
He probably doesn't, now; in fact, he rather assumes his own sterility as a result of medically complicating his body's growth and sexual maturity for years. But it's a way, isn't it, of communicating what he wants, where he wants to venture next, an apology that's also a way of surreptitiously asking if she can hold him with the velvety heat of her body, the way she holds him with her arms.
The roll of her hips dislodges his fingers; his hand goes to the small of her back, a place where scales and skin blend into one another. He pulls her close, hides his face against her cheek. There's nothing in the way now; a shift of the hips from either of them could slot them neatly together, but there's something almost blessed about the pain of wanting, the ache unfolding his curled limbs and radiating blindly toward a goal.]
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Oh. She’s assuming he means a condom? That’s usually what comes to mind at this point. Even now she’s learning things, something she smiles about to herself as she nuzzles against his face affectionately. Her fingers tuck some of wet strands of black hair behind his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ]
It’s okay…you don’t need it.
[ She doesn’t say this recklessly, of course. It seemed more than mere luck to not have been knocked up with what she’s done during her stay here. She could only assume that she’s unable to have any, whether that’s an effect of becoming a monster or having traveled worlds, Alex hadn’t thought about too much.
Cupping his cheek, she turns him to face her, letting the kiss linger a moment, relishing the mixed taste of salty water and sweets. ]
I don’t mind.
[ She reassures against his lips, blue eyes slowly opening to meet his. They were painfully close, mere threads of worries holding them back, snapping one after the other. ]
I want you.
[ An assertion, not a suggestion, not a hope. Just clear, honest want. ]
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He nods; whether or not she knows or guesses his situation, he believes her when she reassures him, seals it with an indulgent kiss on the lips. He sinks into it, feels it pulling him like the sand at his knees and the appetite between their hips.
Her words cause him to freeze, glancing up, breath catching. Those three words, coming from someone desired, are so very powerful. It's more than being allowed, it's being invited; it's enough for him to read the accurate sincerity, and answer with careful, shuddering intrusion past scales, into muscle like silk.]
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Her head tilts back slowly, the cool water doing nothing to the heat of her body as she arched of the sand, seeking more of him, pushing against his weight. She’s careful not to dig her claws in too deep, drawing light pink lines along his back as she draws him towards her. ]
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The prick of her claws is a grounding reminder of where he is, what he's doing, where he retains control and agency. He presses more deeply at her urging, feeling the head of his member press past firm ridges that squeeze him as he goes. They squeeze in such a snug way, in fact, that he momentarily forgets that there are men more well-endowed than he is.
The pulsing instinct is such a natural thing. Alex knows it, and urges it; L's body knows the same. This is another thing that seems to vary little between male and female bodies; the one encased will want to move, and do so at a pace that suits him, that carves pleasingly at the hunger he feels behind his navel. He impales with what he has, stopping only when no more length can be spared and their bodies are fully joined, panting raggedly. He pulls away only so he can feel the slide of her inner walls against him, the contoured squeeze and sweetness, as he plunges in again, more quickly, with the confidence of one who has felt it before.]
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And then it becomes a strong jolt, his next thrust more assertive, more purposeful, her back curving as a gasp is pushed out of her. ]
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Alex might be being kind, by letting him be on top, permitting him this attempt at earnest lovemaking. It could be a generous token to let him actually try when no late night in any dark bar would have ever led to an encounter like this one. It's an intense exercise in trust, as well, because the road to coming feels like a tense walk atop a tightrope, at times, in constant battle with his paranoia and self-doubt.
Terrible distractions, all things considered, when he's hugged so tightly and wreathed in a space that feels made for this purpose. It urges and prompts movement, and his mouth returns to her neck to kiss at the gills there as he establishes a brisk rhythm that only falters at first. Both of his hands grasp her hips, now, creating a mental and physical boundary to pulse toward.
He's probably sterile. Even so, the notion of spilling over inside of her tight confines is exciting, makes him throb so hard in anticipation that he is careful to rein back his pace. Is it because a part of him relishes the risk? Some loosely-defined and latent desire to procreate? Or does he just want to leave his mark on someone Mello feels jealous over?
He drives a bit faster, a bit harder, fingertips grasping at Alex's hipbones, teeth grazing her neck. He wants to leave the kind of small, sucking bruise that would incite questions; he does not, recognizing that it would hardly be fair to his benevolent partner. He's a thief in the night; he need not be a brazen one.]
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His lips felt so good against her neck, pleasantly surprised with how good it felt. Did he even know how sensual he could be with them? ]
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He risks slipping as the sea and sands recede, planting his knee, the practical movement pushing him with greater force and vigor into the tight slit of the scaled tail between his knees. He shudders, the pulsing ache growing more difficult to ignore as he thrusts past the give of unexpectedly soft scales . Everything is burdened and begs for release; his lower abdomen, within and without, is in a cycle of pressure, dire want, straining towards a goal he knows he should delay. A good lover would; the compliment of a speedy and irresistible orgasm rings hollow when a partner is left wanting.
It's easier with men, he realizes. Climax is stuttering, messy, unmistakable. There's something inaccessible and mysterious about a woman's, when those folds seem to clench at will, when any lusty moan sends shivers of excitement trickling down between his shoulderblades.
He angles himself hopefully, possibly grazing the apex of her delta in a way that might bring her pleasure. He feels blinded, infantile, and humbled by his lack of knowledge, but the ache drives him, and in spite of his blindness, he pursues.]
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Lin—-
[ Again she tenses, much more violently this time as he grazes a particularly sensitive spot, cutting herself off with a gasp before she can check in with him. ]
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He doesn't mind the challenge. He doesn't mind the sand or the surf, and his own phylax is in fact in her element just offshore. He's never in his life backed away from something difficult, or decided that anything he wanted was just too much trouble because he was inconvenienced. At this moment, he wants Alex, and he wants to come, and he wants her to come. If she comes, after all, it means that she is not thinking of the bird's-eye view of his bony ass beating up and down, pale and comical as his thin limbs scramble for purchase on the ever-shifting bank.
What's firm, and certain, is the fact that he is nestled to the hilt in stroking, indulgent darkness.]
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Despite how attentive her partners have been in Aefenglom, Alex still found it so novel for the other party to care for her pleasure, to not only seem their own.
Red lines marred his back as her nails dragged across him, doing her best not to sink her claws him in an attempt to draw him even closer. She was close, the way she twitched and squeezed around his cock more than telling. ]
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Her claws are a sharp reminder that the woman he’s gripping by the hips and driving against the wet sand is a monster. He shivers; the pain is not precisely a turn-on for him, but it’s grounding. He needs that sometimes, and knows it. He needs to remember that this flesh is his, and he’ll make her come so he can let go, himself.]
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Her walls convulse around him, squeezing tight and milking him for everything he had to offer. Pleasure washes over her like a wave, keeping her under as she trembles beneath.
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He tries, holding back more than he wants to, his rutting thrusts gentle enough as to be almost careful. He likes the way she smells, revels in the way she feels as she slides against his cock's measured movements, and when he feels her clench around him like some satin-gloved and dextrous fist, he knows it can't be long.
He buries his face against her shoulder as his pace quickens and harshens in tempo. The inevitable emission feels like an indiscretion, something rude and disgraceful. More so because it's been so long, has massed in his loins and grown full and heavy.
When he does, he comes and comes into her tender warmth, clutching her hips with both hands, breath catching and cheeks burning against her soft neck as he spills and can't seem to stop until, panting, it relents and he feels suddenly soft and spent. He simply breathes atop her for a few moments, the last aching phantom twitches nestled and buried as he sighs.]
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The merrow turns enough to nuzzle against the side of his head, pressing soft, lazy kisses to his temple, trying to let him know she was pleased. Her monstrous side could certainly keep going, but she was sated enough to not want to push him like that. ]
Are you alright, Linden…?
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[His breath shudders as the sounds leave him. He tries to gauge whether or not it's a good time to withdraw, whether the continued intimacy is good, or his increasingly slackening member is humiliating.
He defaults to staying, for just a moment. Maybe a moment will present itself to disentangle that feels natural.]
Thank you, for that...
[Sincere, grateful. It's significant that he does not assume she would require money, for the displeasure of letting him press his sputtering, mucusy output into her body. Where it resides, now, substantial, sticky and warm, seeming to melt their joined flesh together.
He clears his throat. It sounds hilariously formal and professorial given the current circumstances.]
It was really good.
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Their new position also keeps him snug inside of her, some of his seed dripping down around the base where they connected. ]
I thought so too. That you were really good.
[ Considering it was his first time, and with a merrow on the shore at that. What could he do in more favorable conditions, she wondered. ]
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You don't have to-
[Say that, claim that, flatter me in that way, but maybe it's true? Maybe something nice can be true for a change.]
I'd do it again...
[Neither of them are addressing the elephant in the room. Someone they both know, someone who won't like that this happened for multiple layers of reasons.
Best to speak of it when they're not steeped in each other, perhaps. He tries not to think of how he will flop like a boned fish outside of her when she raises her tail off of him.]
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No longer away from the subject neither of them have brought up, choosing to drown themselves in seemingly innocent passion. But someone was affected by all this, someone that Alex particularly cared for.
How selfish was it of her, to crave for both of them. ]
Can we?
[ once they leave this place? Again the debate of what was harmless and what wasn’t starts to creep into her mind. ]
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[Nothing wrong with it. No sin, no deception. He wouldn't lie to Light about this, or Myr. Or Near, although he thinks that the latter would care the least of all his Bonded.
There's another successor, though. One who might care, just as much as Near wouldn't.]
Another time. I would.
[Open-ended. No pressure.]
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[ Which was true, really. But…it’s more of who Linden was that made it complicated. Because of the nature of their relationship, Alex was certain he wouldn’t ‘not’ care about this.
Her gaze lowers a moment, crossing her hands over his chest to lean down, her mind wandering to how to approach her Bonded about this. ]
M said it didn’t matter to him who I’m with, but…
[ Meeting his eyes again, she knows Linden is smart enough to know why she’s concerned. ]
You’re different.
[ No one could shake M like Linden could. ]
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Why should I be different?
[Soft, still defiant. In spite of knowing, L should be allowed to be like any other lover Alex might take, blithely wreathing himself in her scent of sea spray.
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You’ve… always been different.
[ And maybe part of her curiosity of him stemmed from that. How he affected M as much as he did, what kind of person was his mentor? The mentor who somehow became her own teacher, changing their odd and awkward dynamic of random encounters on the street to intentional meets ups that she looked forward to. But her fondness for Linden was nothing like what M felt, something she could only tap into sometimes through their bond.
If she really thought about it, a part of her might’ve been jealous even. But how much more terrible a reason would that be? Her fingers trace over his chest idly, trying to distract her from her own thoughts. ]
You’ve mattered to him for a long time. More than anyone else, I think.
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