When it came to their strange relationship, Draven wasn't the most orthodox of lovers. He definitely wasn't the typical romance novel lover who would seduce her with sweet nothings, ask her to go dancing, or surprise her with a dozen or so roses. He wasn't as possessive outside as he'd expected him to be either despite the fact that he was never shy mouthing off to his colleagues about how he'd actually won her affections. Most of his PDA limited to an arm around her waist once in a while or a chaste parting kiss behind the corner, which was possessive in its own right, but not overbearing. But Vayne didn't need any more than those things, and she was pretty sure that the breathing room was welcome to both of them with their individual activities outside the Institute of War.
What mattered to her was that he showed he cared about her in the most direct ways he knew how. And he did, but usually within the safety of being behind closed doors. She was quite content with the fervent affection he gave her in private, with comments fir for an X-rated movie theater being whispered in her ear and large, eager hands undressing her with urgency, but still taking the time to worship every curve of her body.
Much like he was doing right now. She'd offered to visit his quarters tonight, back pressed against his mattress as he dragged down the zipper of her jumpsuit and let the material pool beneath her feet. Before long, Vayne's back crashed against the coils of his mattress as he explored her body. Though her curves were far familiar by now, Draven never ceased to shower them with adoration. Despite his status as the Glorious Executioner, he was never intentionally rough with her unless she asked (which was honestly quite often). His hands were never in one spot for long as he exposed her skin to the chill of the night air, graciously making their way the slope of her neck, the swell of her breasts, the flare of her hips, and downwards. And wherever his hands tended to touch, his mouth usually followed, marring her skin with little red marks that only his eyes would see. Whenever he was with her like this, he saw dark hair streaming behind pale curves and a sense of wonder.
.
.
.
.
.
Across the hall, Katarina du Couteau wasn't having the best night.
The redhead rolled onto her other side, her plumpest pillow covering her face and ears in an attempt to block whatever was going on in the other room.
"For the love of–" she seethed violently, her scarred eye giving a twitch of annoyance. She had no problems with Draven getting a girlfriend (if that's what Vayne even was, she couldn't be quite sure), but for the third time this week? Not to mention her availability to all summoners this week, which made for an excessive amount of matches starting bright and early. As skilled as she was with her blades, the recent sleep deprivation she'd been suffering due to the happy couple's sessions had been taking a toll on her record recently.
She rolled onto her back with a huff, flinging her pillow against the door as the vocals increased in octave. As much as she despised the two for preventing her regular sleeping schedule, she couldn't help but feel a tad jealous of them. In any other case, a Noxian in the military having relations with any Demacian would have harsh consequences, but since Vayne was barely affiliated with her house and country due to dark, dreary Vayne things, the Noxian officials at least had turned a blind eye to their relationship. The Demacian court may have had a stronger opinion, but it was probably the least of the Night Hunter's worries compared to that questing for evil spirits nonsense she liked to do in her spare time.
Her relationship with Garen was a different matter altogether.
If they were ever caught even being slightly familiar with each other, there would probably be hell to pay from both factions. It was honestly a wonder that they'd been able to maintain a somewhat stable relationship while tiptoeing around the officials within the institute's walls. But still, time spent with Garen was scarce, time spent being intimate even more so.
Another suggestive cry bypassed the walls. Katarina cursed their happiness a bit.
Drown it out, she told herself, clenching her teeth and attempting think of something, anything, to block the obscenity occurring not even twenty feet away.
But for some reason, the first thing she saw was blue and gold. Thick bands of muscle under plates of armor shed like scales. A familiar weight hovered over her, careful not to crush her smaller form as she felt the tingle of a quiet whisper on her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.
She had to stop herself from letting her hands wanted downwards, gripping the hem of her nightgown and trying to shoo the thought away. She was no stranger to her own body, but she'd never tried touching herself while people she knew were going at it probably not more than twenty feet away. She wondered if that would count as some sort of voyeurism as her thighs began to rub together on their own whim in their want to have something between them.
But perhaps her own self pleasure was more overdue than she'd originally thought, as she was surprised at her own heady gasp, heart jumping in her chest as she pressed the pads of her fingers against the lace of her panties. In the depths of her mind, large hands ghosted over her own as they edged the trim higher up her thighs as if to teasingly ask for consent. Her love was after all, a gentleman through and through, even if she was tempted to smack him for it sometimes.
Oh, fuck it, Katarina conceded, finally allowing herself to close her eyes. And all at once, the noises were gone. Instead she imagined her lips being taken tentatively, sweetly, as she pushed the lace of her panties aside to test her wetness with two fingers, then three.
"Someone seems eager," the masculine voice in her head murmured, and she couldn't help a whine of agreement from leaving her lips. All at once she plunged her fingers into her core, teeth gnawing at the edge of her blanket to muffle her own strangled moans.
.
.
.
.
.
"You're damn beautiful, y'know that?" Draven told her after a pause, allowing his hands to rest on her sides as his thumbs worked over the ridges of her ribs. Vayne was truly a vision, breasts dotted with his love bites heaving with each breath of anticipation, gaze indicating that she was a bit disappointed that he'd stopped. But at his comment, he made out the bright curve of her smile and his dick twitched. That smile was another thing that got him no matter how many times he'd bedded her, among getting to see her practically dependent upon him with her need for pleasure.
"I don't need you to tell me that," she told him with haughty smirk, though the appreciation showed itself in the flush that reached all the way to her collarbones. The flattering physiological reaction induced his own grin, giving the area a few kisses before nestling himself between her legs.
Draven pressed against hers as he sank into her, his strained hiss burning against her mouth. Vayne arched in response, ankles crossing behind him like a vice as he began to move. His movements were slow, deliberate, knowing the prolonged buildup would leave her begging for more. Her lips parted in a panting gasp beneath him, legs pushing him forward to aid in his momentum and to drive him in deeper. A thin sheen of sweat began to glaze his forehead as he craned his neck to kiss her to silence her feral sounds for a but a moment as he sank the entirety of his length within her, fingernails leaving sharp, moon shaped welts on the skin of his shoulders as he did so.
.
.
.
.
.
Talon frowned under the cowl of the towel draped over his still wet hair. He'd taken an exceedingly long shower that night – even bothering with the unnecessary wash, rinse, and repeat Katarina and Cassiopeia had insisted he do to maintain the length of his hair – just to try and dodge Draven and Vayne's now regularly scheduled copulation. But apparently that wasn't even enough the noises echoing through the halls hinting that they were far from finished.
The Blade's Shadow quickly retreated behind the safety of his door, praying the barrier would mute the sound a bit. He tossed his towel carelessly in the direction his desk chair was supposed to be, not bothering with the lights as he had planned to try and sleep as soon as he came back. But turning towards his bed frame, he was greeted by a figure perched atop his bed, barely visible with the natural lighting that streamed through the blinds of his window.
"Welcome back," a feminine voice greeted him, sounding rather pleased to have caught him off guard.
"I thought you weren't due back for another week," he remarked, mildly confused but not at all displeased as he approached her. "How long have you been back"?
"Things wrapped up quicker than expected," Riven told him, hinting that the details didn't matter too much. She gave a dedicated hop off of the bed to wrap her arms comfortably around his middle. "Not even an hour probably. I headed straight here after washing up myself."
Talon let out a breath of contentment against her crown, lightly fingering the tips of her hair. They were just about as dry as his but free of their usual bun, falling to skim her shoulders which was how he liked them best. As one arm held her close, the other wandering upwards to allow his thumb to trace her jaw, tilting it upwards to lean in for kiss–
"God, right there–!"
Riven blushed an embarrassed pink, clearly bothered for an entirely different reason than his general sleep deprivation.
"It should quiet down soon," Talon told her, hoping to ease her worry. He opted to plant a kiss on her forehead instead, "You must be tired from your journey. Shall we go to bed?" Neither of them were particularly heavy sleepers. Talon was far used to the harsh streets of the Noxian slums to sleep well in a comfortable bed, while Riven had been trained to function with little sleep and be able to prepare for combat with a single alert during her time in the army, along with the visions that haunted her dreams from the battlefield. But they had discovered, even before their romantic relationship had begun, that it was a bit easier to rest in the other's company.
But Riven seemed to remain stationary, both feet planted firmly on the ground amidst his attempt to lead her towards the bed and get some rest. "Is something wrong?" he asked, noticing the familiar furrow of her brow that occurred whenever she was mentally debating with herself.
"Well, I…" she began, gaze dropping to the floor as she struggled for proper wording. Another thing that came with their upbringings was that neither of them were quite used to the communication a normal relationship entailed. Feelings were one thing, but wearing your heart on your sleeve was another matter entirely. Talon was admittedly a bit more attuned to it than she was, but he'd learned to be patient with Riven as much as she had been with him in the early stages of their relationship. Trust wasn't the easiest thing to earn for either of them, but they were each the other's exception.
She met his gaze with better resolve after a moment.
"It's just that I'm not that tired yet," she began tentatively, halfway across the bridge to being direct. Talon remained silent, urging her to finish her thought, though the sight of the ex-soldier getting visibly flustered was rather attractive to him. "And it's been a while since I've last seen you…"
As if physically conceding to her whims, she suddenly slumped against him, face to his chest and hands fisted in his shirt, "I missed you quite a bit, you know?"
Talon found himself smiling at her bashful honestly, giving her silver hair a playful ruffle. "I've missed you as well," he told her before kissing her properly this time. She sighed against his mouth as he held her, tongue eagerly darting between his lips as if to illustrate her point. He allowed her access, bringing his own out to trace the outline of her lips before clashing with hers. What he didn't expect however, was for her hand to sneak down towards the waistband of his shorts. Not in any place to object, he tightened his hold on her as her fingers drew patterns under the elastic, tracing the curve of his hip bone before moving towards the front to palm him through the fabric.
He broke the kiss at that point, slightly surprised at how bold he was being as she dragged the heel of her hand across his length until it began to stiffen. "That much, huh?" he questioned smugly, to which she stopped her movements completely. Her forearm rose to cover her eyes as she let out a subdued whine, to which he just dipped to dodge and kiss her again.
Before Riven could recover from her embarrassment, she felt his arms around her back and knees, scooping her up into his arms. The loss of footing made her yelp, barely able to throw her hands around his neck to steady herself. "What are you doing?!" she exclaimed, but received no immediate response as he gently deposited her on the edge of the bed where he'd found her.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he asked, settling on his knees below her before gingerly parting her legs. His hands ran appreciatively across the inside of her thigh before he followed with his mouth, plating soft, slow kisses across her silky skin.
"Well yes but…" Riven started, unable to deny before being cut off by her own whimper. Talon carefully slid her panties down the length of her legs, stopping to let them hang off of one of her ankles. Her skirt bunched upwards as he spread her legs wide enough for him to kneel between them. She couldn't help but give another mewl of anticipation met by his devilish smirk.
"Then I don't see what the problem is," Talon said before delving in for a taste of her. One of her hands tangled itself in his hair while the other flew to her mouth in an attempt to keep quiet. The pliant heat of his tongue swept over her, teasing at her damp folds before moving upwards to lave at her clit. It became increasingly harder to keep her voice at bay as he circled his tongue with just the right amount of pressure, his own soft growls and grunts adding to the intensity of it all. Her knees hooked over his shoulders as he lapped at her hungrily, hips rocking against his face when began to suck on the bundle of nerves. Her mind went blank and she found herself biting at her thumb to muffle her desperate moans, but then his grip found her wrist, pulling it away from her mouth and towards her hips where she could comfortably lace her fingers with his.
"Why don't we give them a run for their money tonight," Talon suggested mischievous grin, leaving her wide-eyed at the implication of a bed-breaking session of their own. But the modest heat between her hip bones turned into burning need at the husky tone of his voice tickling against her core. Before she could even think of a reply, his head was between her legs again. This time, his tongue pushed inside of her, swirling and exploring her most intimate place as her walls gave a wonderful quiver at finally being pervaded. Finally giving in to her desires, Riven allowed herself to fall, a full-fledged scream escaping her lips as her back hit the mattress.
.
.
.
.
.
Draven found it hilarious that others would think that even in bed, Vayne was statuesque and hard to please. Grated, he'd thought so too once, but now that he actually had the experience, he knew that all he had to do was touch her in the right places and tilt his hips in just the right direction and he'd have her yelling and thrashing just like a regular nymph.
Another ridiculously sexy trait: responsiveness.
Which she did quite a lot of in the sack.
He loved the way her nails dug into his arms and back, leaving streaks of angry red to accompany the ink that was already there. He was sure he was sporting a few already with the way she'd been clinging onto him in an attempt to drive him in deeper. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his trademark mustache tickling her skin as he plunged into her with a steady rhythm. She was so hot and wet and it was honestly a wonder how he could refrain from just hammering into her until he was spent. But Draven was a performer by nature – The pleasure of his woman meant his own pleasure as well, which was why he always made sure to cater to her desires first and foremost.
"Keep going, just like that," Vayne told him pressed flush against his warmth like the pages of a book. He picked up the pace and letting his hands wander to her chest, caressing her nipples with the pads of his thumbs. She mewled affirmatively into his ear and arched her back so that he could cup them fully, the peaks puckering against his smooth palms. He gave her nipples a particularly cruel twist, feeling her back jump off the bed a few inches while clamping onto him harshly, the pulsing liquid heat almost to make him come straight away had he lacked in self-restraint.
"Easy, easy," he told her, watching her body ease into a quell as he patted the flat plane of her stomach in apology. She shot him a glare, which by now he found more sexy than intimidating, before her eyes shut and her lips parted in a pleasured cry as the tip of his cock hit a particularly sweet spot within her as her fingers frantically clawed at the sheets for some kind of hold.
.
.
.
.
.
Annie Hastur was a mature young lady!
All of her fellow champions still thought she was, like, a ten-year-old girl, but that was SOOOOO not true. Annie was an OLD SOUL, and also way misunderstood.
Like, did Draven and Vayne really think that they needed to wait until she was asleep before they jumped into bed together? Really really for truly? Being prudish was for little babies and Annie was NOT a little baby. It was true that at this rate she was probably going to DIE A VIRGIN who LIVED WITH HER PARENTS outside of the institute, but she did room next to Talon, which meant she practically roomed next to him and Riven, so she still had a good idea of what was what.
"Thanks for waking me up, Tibbers!" Annie chirped, strangling the stuffed bear with her affections. "You're the best!"
Tibbers was somehow quite attuned to any of the others decided to get to it, always making sure Annie was awake for it and warning her if anyone was approaching to check whether she was still awake or not. That's why Tibbers was Annie's special friend!
The bound creature's remaining eye lit up for a moment, though Annie remained too chipper to notice. The sound of Vayne and Draven's pleasure tingled all the way to the tips of her toes. OMG SO ROMANTIC. With a giggle, she sat up and pushed Tibbers between her legs, hugging him securely between her thighs. His fur was a little bit itchy, but it would be okay so long as she wore her panties!
"Help me out, okay?"
The bear gave a growl inaudible to her in reply as his master squealed with delight, bouncing her hips against the hard button of his nose.
.
.
.
.
.
"Tell me how you want it," Draven panted, as he rolled his hips against as she trembled beneath him, dangerously close to coming undone. She was never shy when it came to giving him orders, or maybe she was always just too enraptured to care. But whatever the case, Draven was always happy to oblige, reveling in the way she moaned and writhed between breaths as he continued to thrust into her warmth.
"I want you to fuck me senseless," Vayne whispered harshly, bringing her hand downwards to touch herself, walls immediately clenching at the added stimulation. She felt his cock twitch inside her and gasped, probably due to the fact that her voice alone could probably get him off just fine. He shoved into her with more force than before, causing her to cry as her hips snapped up to meet his.
"Take me hard and fast," she rasped into the shell of his ear, giving the shell a light nip with her teeth. He grunted almost helplessly into her shoulder, his thrusts becoming more desperate with her voice as their fuel as her cries rose in elevation between her thoughts. "Make me come so hard that I scream," she commanded, receiving another delightful cock twitch in response as Draven moved to reposition himself, placing his hands on either side of her head. And all at once he was the one breathless as his vision cleared at the sight of her biting her lip like a goddamn tease with that smile she gave him and only him.
"Yes ma'am," he granted her with newfound determination. He barely allowed her the time to lock her fingers securely behind neck before he began ramming into her with a frenzy, feeling her constrict around even more severely than before. The tightness of her heat signaled that she was already close to her tipping point, and when her walls began to ripple he deliberately angled his hips, finding the spot that made her cry out with pleasure every time he pounded into her.
"Oh fuck, yes –!" she cried out just as her muscles violently quaked around him. Her body went rigid for a moment, toes curling and back arching off the bed as she rode out her orgasm with a shriek of his name, Draven continuing to ram into her all the while to begin to pool her into her next one.
.
.
.
.
.
The Grand General of Noxus cracked open a tired eye and stared at the wall in torment, lamenting the Institute of War's decision to separate champion quarters by country affiliation. While Beatrice had somehow managed to fall into a slumber on her perch after her dinner, his bed partner was having a bit of trouble sleeping as well it seemed, shimmying in an attempt to try and get as comfortable as she could despite the unwanted noise.
"Were we ever that young?" LeBlanc asked, back pressed against his chest as she idly traced the scars littering his arms. Her actions were halted as he pulled her closer into his hold.
"Who says we're not young now?" Swain said with a scoff, stroking the curve of her ribs as if to ease the thought away. "That punk Draven? He may think he's a stallion now, sure, but with the hairline his brother's got going on, he'll be bald in ten years, tops."
She gave a chuckle at that as he placed a soft kiss on the side of her neck, "And it's not like we can't keep up in stamina, isn't that right?"
Despite her youthful appearance, it was no secret that LeBlanc was around the same age as him. The upkeep of her disguise wasn't just a show of ability, but also a second skin in which she'd become comfortable in. Swain was one of the only people who'd seen her true appearance. Beneath the veil of magic, her breasts sagged when he unhooked her bra and wrinkles decorated the corners of her eyes. And as for Swain himself, his love handles refused to disappear no matter how many meals he skipped between his matches.
Another cry in a completely different vocal tone caught the two by surprise.
"Are they having a contest now?" The sorceress wondered aloud, questioning the audacity of their youthful neighbors. "Shall we join in as well, dear?" she asked with a playful wriggle of her hips against his crotch before turning around for a kiss only to have him loosen his grip and remove himself from her completely.
"Not like that, love," he told her sternly, letting the words register their meaning. A shade of discomfort colored her eyes for a moment before she sat upright off the edge of the bed, back turned to him as she began to undo her spell. Swain watched in appreciative fascination, adopting his own sitting position while the curves of her body began to change in shape. Gone were the smooth plane of her stomach and back. Her arms lost their firmness, along with a few white strands peppering her hair.
The Deceiver gave him a shy glance over her shoulder, and the beginnings of the crow's feet with the glimmer her eyes entranced him with a charm that wasn't due to any sort of magic at all.
They may not be prizes like Draven and Vayne, but so what?
"Much better," Swain told her in approval, pulling her into his lap to kiss her fully. Her lips weren't as smooth as they were with her disguise, but they were still plenty pliable as she maneuvered them with a calculating, transcending passion that could only be taught by years and years of practiced skill that came with a long time companionship.
Swain gripped the supple flesh of her hips, hands caressing every fold and curve with love and adoration as she quivered, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him fervently. A second set of arms wrapped around his torso from behind, beginning to work at the button of his boxers. The Grand General gave a sharp grunt as a hand pulled him out through the slit in the fabric to stroke him eagerly. Pausing for a breather, he spotted the clone smiling behind him before nipping and licking at the age spots dusting his shoulders. Another cry echoed through the walls, but they were far too enveloped in their own activity to mind.
"I doubt they'd have as much fun as us anyway," LeBlanc said with a smirk, tracing the curve of his chin in preparation for another kiss. But as Swain leaned in, she suddenly diverted her direction to the right, gently turning his head to the side to kiss her own clone. Both figures had their eyes on him as their tongues tangled, giving him quite the show as his dick throbbed in excitement.
"How lively," she voiced through her clone during a breath, giving his balls a firm squeeze while continuing to work over his shaft with her hands.
"You're the most beautiful creature in the goddamn universe," he managed to say despite the careful attention being paid to his crotch area. The comment earned him a kiss on each cheek and a particularly firm squeeze to the base of his cock.
"Is the toy I bought with me that one time still here?" The Deceiver asked slyly, moving away from him for a moment to feel under the bed for the object in question.
"Bottom drawer I think," he replied, a tad reluctant but not remotely close to unwilling. After all, it hadn't been as bad as he'd assumed it to be the first time they'd tried.
No way in hell was the happy couple down the hall outdoing them tonight.
A broad smile crossed her face as she pulled procured the box from its drawer, all pieces still intact with the main component in the center. LeBlanc stroked the object like an old friend, pulling it out of its casing in all its two-pronged glory.
"Marvelous!"
.
.
.
.
.
Before she could even recover from the thrall of her orgasm, she felt Draven slip his arms under her shoulders, easily flipping them over so that she was on top, legs folded on either side of his waist with his still hard cock still wedged tightly within her. She looked winded but still absolutely lovely, black hair mussed in all different directions as she sank down upon him with a whimper at the sudden change of angle.
"Move how you want," Draven instructed hoarsely, voice husky and slightly strained with the effort of not thrusting up into her wildly. Despite his love for control, he always made sure to give her a little bit of the spotlight when they made love. After all, the view of her riding him in all her raw, livid sexuality was just far too good to pass up.
The Night Hunter managed a nod despite the daze that came with the sudden switch in positions. It was much cooler now that she wasn't shielded by the warmth of his muscles, but after a moment she finally began to move, swiveling her hips in a circular motion as a teasing gesture. A hiss escaped past his clenched teeth as his hands flew to her hips in an attempt to control her movement, knowing too much of that would mean a quicker end for him. The corners of her mouth perked into a grin as she repeated the motion, his grip becoming almost hard enough to bruise.
"Babe, please," Draven pleaded with a brief smile of his own before it contorted into another strangled growl as she continued to gyrate her hips for a moment as payback for earlier.
"Fine, fine," she breathed, bracing her weight on his chest as she began to move, lifting her hips until his length threatened to escape her before sinking to sheath the entirety of his length within her walls. She felt a stab of pleasure rip through her with every movement, enjoying the control she had over the pacing now, as well as the sight of Draven struggling to keep his cool. When she reached a steady rhythm, he allowed his hands to roam to her breasts once again, fondling the soft mounds of flesh and sending a pleasant tingle downwards to where they were joined.
Up, down, up, down, his thick rod moved in and out of her. She started clenching her muscles each time she pulled off of him, blissful tension coiling in her belly while she milked him. The air left her in a heady cry as heat radiated from her pulsing core. He was so deep inside her, touching all the right places and sending electric jolts through her synapses every time she slammed her hips downwards to meet his. The tightness in her lower abdomen was starting to become unbearable once again, pressure building to the point where something had to give soon.
"Shit, Vayne!," Draven seethed, feeling her tighten significantly around him to signal just how close she was. The feeling of her slick walls encasing him enough to send his self control to the brink, and with the motions of her hips bringing so close to his own release, his sense of restraint finally snapped.
Without warning, he sat up and gathered her into his arms. "Hold on tight," he growled, pulling her into his lap as he scooted back against the headboard. She barely had time to grasp to his shoulders before he began to thrust into her at a jackhammer's pace, his cock filling her hard and deep and fast that spots began to cloud her vision. Her mind went blank as she clung onto him for dear life, her pleasured screams barely registering as her own blood filled her ears.
.
.
.
.
.
This was getting ridiculous.
Darius lay on his back, staring at the same ceiling he'd been fixated on for an hour and a half. One hand covered his eyes in defeat while the other lay forlornly within his pants along with the majority of his problem. He'd originally intended to get the deed done to sleep like a rock before his younger brother and his lady friend proceeded to jump into bed together, but apparently he'd sorely miscalculated the time which they'd made their return, leaving him with quite the stiffy amidst his godforsaken brother's mating calls, which was just all sorts of wrong.
Now this would have been completely fine if it had gone away on its own like it usually did.
Problem was, it hadn't. And it had proven to be unnecessarily difficult to satisfy as well, which was quite the bother.
So here he was, the elder of the two Blood Brothers, single and alone with no one but his awkward boner to keep him company while his younger brother was getting the lay of his life down the hall.
The Hand of Noxus sighed at the irony of it all as he stroked his rock hard cock with disdain, wishing so much for it to quell itself so he didn't have to deal with how awkward of a situation this was. Had it been any other couple it wouldn't have affected him as much, but the fact that it was Draven of all people made for quite the mental block. Just the thought of getting off at the same time as his brother sans an actual partner was far too disturbing for him to even think about finishing himself off. He could only hope that their session would end soon so he could maybe get some shut eye after hopefully dealing with the monster below.
A furious knocking on his door snapped him out of his lamenting. "One moment," he called in the most normal voice he could muster as he wondered who could possibly need him at this hour. Darius hurriedly pulled up his pants, securing his dick upright under the elastic waistband before quickly crossing the room to answer. Swinging the door open, Darius proceeded to blink in confusion.
Of all the people in the world, Cassiopeia du Couteau was probably one of the last people he would have expected, though he supposed her presence was more plausible than that of say, Garen Crownguard.
"Err…" he began awkwardly, not knowing what exactly to say nor what the death glare she was sending him was for. "May I help you?" he asked her finally, trying to think back and remember if he'd offended her in any way recently.
"Darius, for the love of your country," the serpentine woman hissed, convincing him that whatever fault he'd committed was a truly serious matter. "Could you finish whacking off already? I mean, it's already bad enough that your idiot brother's keeping the whole wing awake while getting his dick wet practically every night," she seethed as Darius adopted a full on deer-in-the-headlights look at her indiscriminate verbal lashing. His first immediate thought was how could she have possibly known? It's not like he was very audible when it came to that sort of thing. It seemed as though the younger of the du Couteau sisters wasn't finished however, a dangerously sharp fingernail jutting to point to the tip of his nose.
"You on the other hand, are right next door," she said rather pointedly, dragging it downwards to follow the pinstripes of his pajama bottoms all the way to his crotch area where the bulge in question wasn't so well concealed after all. "And I'm not sure if you know, but I have quite the heightened sense of smell, which means I can catch a whiff of that thing down there all the way from my room. Do you understand?"
"I–, You–," he fumbled for words, insides squirming under the power of her indignant stare. He shrank backwards under her gaze, curing the fact that his penis wouldn't follow his example, "What?!"
"You heard me," Cassiopeia scoffed, retracting her claws to cross her arms with an annoyed huff as if she expected him to just be able to retreat into his bedroom and ejaculate by her command. "Now will you do us both a favor and finish your business?"
"B-but it's…" he sputtered, cheeks glowing a furious red as he weighed the consequences of an excuse versus the sorry explanation of the truth. Not sure what excuse could even pass as valid, he decided to go with the latter. "It's not that easy," he admitted in exasperation, his desperate tone of voice catching the snake woman off guard.
"What do you mean by that?" she blinked as if such a simple explanation could be given for such an awkward problem.
As if on cue, another unnecessarily loud feminine cry coupled with a disturbingly familiar masculine groan resounded through the hallway. Darius gave her a flat look as the connection finally registered.
"Oh," she finally realized, face changing to one of mild apology and a sad sense of understanding.
"If I could have, I would have already, trust me," he sighed shoving his hands into the pockets of his pajamas as an embarrassed blush colored his cheeks.
A beat passed as Cassiopeia pursed her lips in thought, pondering what could possibly be done to remedy the situation. It was nearly impossible for her to sleep with the scent of that seeping through the cracks of her door, and she doubted Darius could even muster the mindset to take care of it on his own at this point. She quietly recalled her first few weeks back at the mansion and the struggle she'd had when Katarina had thought she was being discreet about it.
"Would you prefer some help then?" she finally asked, curiosity lacing her sincere tone as Darius began to choke on nothing at all.
"I–I'm not sure what you mean," Darius admitted after remembering how to breathe, wondering if he'd heard her right.
"I mean would you like some help with that?" she repeated herself, tipped fingernail once again pointing at the bulge in his pants. The notion of it seemed to frighten him a bit as the larger man cupped his arms in front of his package before taking a large step backwards. Cassiopeia rolled her eyes in knowing, retracting the points of her claws altogether to show him the front and back of her very human hand.
"I was a woman before all this, you know," she explained to him, not at all offended by his initial reaction. She'd expected it actually, considering he'd probably been unaware of her ability to partially transform certain parts of her body. The serpentine woman approached him so that the gap was as big as it had been when she'd first arrived. "I'd like to think I know my way around these kinds of things," she reassured him, alluding mostly to her time as an agent of seduction for Noxus mostly, but she certainly had some other experience in that department under her belt as well.
"And I'd like to think the transformation came with some…improvements," she continued, slowly inching forward as her forked tongue flicked outward to lick at her glossy lips. Darius gulped, brain threatening to snap from the stem at the sheer absurdity of the offer presented to him.
"Well yes, but I–" Darius sputtered, floundering for words as she continued to inch closer and closer into his personal space bubble.
"You mean you don't want to?" she cut him off with a tilt of her head, halting her approach just before the edge of his doorframe.
Darius directed his gaze downwards, mulling over the thought. Personally, he saw no reason to refuse such an offer considering the current state of misery he was in. What made him nervous was the fact that it had been a long while since he'd been with a woman, let alone one with the temperament of the du Couteau family.
"Forget I said anything then," the half-serpent dismissed with a wave of her hand, and in that moment he could have sworn he saw a hint of gloom in her eyes. "I guess I should have known better," she muttered, giving him a wry smile before attempting to make her retreat.
"Wait, that's not it," Darius said firmly, eyes drawn to the elegant swivel of her scaled hips as she turned.
"It's not that I wouldn't want to," he began, making a conscious effort to pick his words carefully under her expectant gaze. "It's just…I've never experienced that sort of thing before," he admitted, scratching sheepishly at his nape. There was a pause as Cassiopeia slowly processed this information.
"No one's ever jerked you off before?" she blurted out in disbelief. The color of his cheeks deepened to that of a ripe tomato.
"No!" he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, frantically scanning the perimeter for anyone who may have overheard.
"Well then, would you care to let me try?" she asked again him more expectantly than before. She batted her eyelashes at him and flashed him a smile that had his stomach doing flips. All at once, Darius realized that there wasn't going to be an easy way out of this one.
"…If you would," he muttered with embarrassment, retreating farther into the room and gesturing with his broad arm for her to enter. And enter she did, eagerly closing the door behind them with a flick of her tail and a certain swing in her hips.
"Go ahead and sit," Cassiopeia told him, grinning at how obediently he followed her orders. What a prime example of a soldier he was. She slithered in front of him, hooking her fingers under the waistband of his pajama pants and boxers. She gave him a quick glance to make sure if he was really alright with what she planned to do. She was met with a silent but nervous nod, which was enough permission for her to pull his bottoms down to his ankles in one fell swoop.
"My!" she let out in surprise, eyes widening at what the sight that greeted her. His cock swung up in greeting, saluting her at full attention with its impressive girth and massive length. It had been a while since she'd dealt with a man this big, let alone a man in general, and the sight itself was enough to send a pleasant heat down to the middle of her hip bones. "That's quite an impressive tool you've got there, General," she said, forked tongue poking out to lick her lips as Darius tried his very best not to squirm from sheer embarrassment.
She wrapped one fist around the base of his cock, immediately feeling the sensitive muscle react under her touch. Finding a proper starting pressure, she began twisting her hand slowly but firmly up and down his shaft. "Is this alright?" she asked, flicking her thumb against the tip experimentally. Darius's breath gave an audible hitch, feeling her heart jump against her rib cage in excitement at his favorable reaction, continuing to circle the pad of her thumb with careful attention.
He gave her another nod, "Please be gentle," he mumbled with the weight of his final concerns, and she couldn't help but elevate herself with her tail until she was the appropriate level to grab the back of his head with her free hand to pull him into a kiss that left him in a haze. But through the mental fog, he Cassiopeia still felt and tasted like woman and all kinds of wonderful despite the curse that had been placed upon her. It seemed like all too soon when they broke apart breathlessly.
"Trust me," she said before she lowered herself again, keeping smoldering eye contact as she brought out her tongue to lick him painfully slowly from his base all the way to the tip. She took him into her mouth as far as she could until she felt the head hit the back of her throat, hands assisting in the places she couldn't manage. Her long tongue curled around him in a spiral – something no ordinary woman would ever be capable of – licking every possible inch she could. The new sense stimulation felt oh so good, and Darius couldn't stop himself from thrusting into her hot, wet mouth with choked moan that set her insides ablaze as she began bobbing her head up and down in his lap.
.
.
.
.
.
Vayne's movements had become jerky and uncoordinated, her spine arching and bending like a cat as Draven impaled her with his hard length at a pace she simply couldn't keep up with anymore. Her need for release was beyond comprehension, not even realizing that Draven had a white knuckled grip on her hips as he guided her up and down to increase the frenzy of their tempo.
Her voice left her in a keening cry as heat radiated from the place they were joined, her climax hitting her with a bone jarring shudder. The pressure that had built up in her core finally burst as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, walls rippling as Draven continued to impale her until she felt his hot molten heat spurt within her. The aftershock of her orgasm left her boneless and spent. She collapsed on her lover's chest as he tucked her chin over his shoulder to lower them both to lay on the bed, still coming down from the high of his own release. He felt her muscles twitch a few times before he slipped his softening member out of her.
"Holy shit," he breathed, feeling Vayne adjust to snuggle comfortably against his side, splaying a tired arm across his middle before giving a satisfied nod against his neck. Her eyes were closed but her mouth was slightly parted, as if she wanted to say something but was overwhelmed by the chore. He could fit one of his lips – didn't matter which one – in that space. He could add a little pressure or a little suction or a little tongue until it roused her and she added something of her own. But as tempting as the offer was, the fatigue along with the tiny shred of consideration he had for their neighbors kept him from doing so. Instead, he settled with a simple, "Hey, Vayne."
She gave a low murmur to indicate that she was listening though her eyes remained closed. He smiled at her tenderly, endearingly, as he ran his fingers languidly through her tousled hair.
"I think I might love you a little bit."
He felt the faintest movement of her lips forming words against his neck, only able to make out the last bit which was what mattered most.
"You too."
Wow this was a monster. I'm still not sure what part of me decided to finish this, which I had intended to be on the backburner, before The Unwilling Seduction of Shauna Vayne. I'd like to think it's because I needed some porn practice because I haven't written it in a long time and partly because I don't really know how explicit I want to make that piece, so I guess this can serve as my lemony outlet if the other one doesn't end up as steamy as this one. But anyway, for those who have been waiting on the final installment for that, it's halfway done and I have no intention of abandoning it even though it's been some months since the last chapter. It's also pretty hard to write romance when you're having troubles with your own relationship (go figure), but rest assured, it will be finished! But anyway, whether you've read that one or not, I hope you enjoyed this ditty. It was a struggle to write and I'm not sure if I'm proud of all my characterizations, but please let me know how you liked it by leaving a review if you can!
