Amber was never prepared after an orgasm.
The release was always so spellbinding that her soul would leave momentarily for the cosmos into that expanse of never-ending nirvana. And when it returned from white endless lakes to the depths of a trembling, naked body, the vulnerability spiked so hard her cheeks grew inflamed.
In the welcoming depths of her bedroom, in the dimly lit quiet filled with her soulmates' breathy laughter, it wasn't that bad. The blush would be hidden by an arm snaked around her waist, gentle kisses up her navel.
A pot of ramen steamed on the counter, two boys already slurping up strands—their midnight snack after the exercise. A strand of salty, unhealthy goodness was quickly lifted to her lips. Then a cherry tomato popped in quickly to balance the corruption of junk food. They would smile and joke, talk about everything and nothing.
At home, she would be greeted by warm delicious aftercare.
But she supposed the filth of the environment was all part of the fun.
Amber came down from her high, panting and dazed; flushed thighs wrapped around Hikaru's neck—his veins glittering gold, lips glossy with her cum. Her throat let out a whine, as her hips jerked from him too sensitive to receive more. He let her go with a small exhale, breath warm against her cunt, murmuring soft praises against her skin in his language.
She blinked twice, wondering when the shirt had slipped down so far that the tips of her breast were revealed. A dumbstruck second got her spending another second breathing through the constellations and the stars.
"Fuck," she whispered, voice odd, throat a little raw.
And her hands went over Hikaru's face, swept digits over the shimmer of slick juice over a handsome nose and then the corners of full, gorgeous lips. The soaked bangs, and the heavy eyes, then the beads of liquid in his lashes. Her body shivered and grew warm with her embarrassment. But his gaze was slow as they spun up to her, lashes soft as they blinked like a cat, genuinely endeared.
"I'm sorry, I got you so wet—"
Her breath hitched as her thumb grazed the corner of his lip and he turned as if controlled to pull it into his mouth, tongue tasting her on the tip. The warmth was wet and lewd, the noise of his sucking made her heart speed. She watched a she drew in a deep inhale of her pussy like a man that was possessed.
Hikaru was fucking insane.
She let out a shaky exhale as her fingers popped free from his mouth, her body clenching as his eyes grew unfocused, rolling upwards and into a close as if he genuinely enjoyed the taste. Her chest burned as something spun between their flesh, and she grew fixated on the pink of his skin and the bob of his throat.
When had he become so goddamn filthy?
"Hikaru…"
"Shhh." His eyes opened as he hummed. Hikaru studied her, dragged his gaze over her face and she felt the awareness tingle across her cheeks. She felt more of herself drip from between her legs when he pressed a gentle kiss to her inner thigh. "Thank you, my love."
Oh. The words made her burn, and life breathed into her cunt. And she felt herself throb, felt the blossom of pleasure explode in her chest and pull up to her throat. He thanked her. She felt herself grow dopey with adoration. What the fuck? She should be thanking him for the orgasm. He pressed another kiss to the inner corner of her wrist and the skin there tingled.
Her heart rate was accelerating, the desperation increasing.
The electric kitten-like purr of a speaker spat in the background, crying for the next song and a name. But she was too fucked up to notice whose name it screamed for in the jumbled, messy Korean. The staff member was almost screaming through the intercom. But the anxiety in its voice was enough to send her eyes flying up to her boys, trying to see who had left.
None had.
They occupied their own corners of debauchery, hard, sweaty and dripping with cum. The murmurs and groans continued, noises that were so lewd she felt herself drip.
Sieon, leaning against the mirror, thick length swallowed by long slender fingers, head tossed back to reveal the glint of a pearl earring, eyes closed. The shirt he had on, black velvet and silk, was unbuttoned to his chest. Her soulmate was panting, breath fogging against his reflection, sweat dripping down tanned skin—crystals over corded muscles.
A red rose was on his finger, the fiery rope of their soul bond twisting around his shaft, tangled around his cock. The petals fluttered as his body twisted, jerking with the orgasm that spilt pretty down his fingers in dollops. His eyes opened, lazy as they darted to her, languid. She felt herself lurch, shying away just before their eyes could lock.
But the next contender was just as dirty.
MinJae was whispering curses as he milked out the last of himself through the webbing of his hands, his hips gyrating against the air. He stood closest to the door, with his brows twisting until wrinkles formed.
On his head were the buds of lilacs that began to slowly grow in response to his pleasure. His plump juicy lips were swollen from biting, and the head of his cock was almost purple from his tease. The ropes of his semen flooding his hands.
He seemed just as embarrassed when he caught her staring, his cheeks reddening into a rouge that rivalled the colour of his lips. But just for her, he brought shaking hands to the light, revealing the sticky ropes of white that stained his palm.
She swallowed around a dry throat and caught sight of Casper flushed and teasing the slit of his softening cock, arms rippling with muscles that were taut and beautiful in the shadows. His chest flexing as he masturbated, cum dripping onto the floor as if he didn't care. He was shivering, tanned skin trembling and she could see the agony in each quivering spasm.
The rainbow of his eyes was shifting and twisting over his skin like a gorgeous tattoo. And he stared at her, gaze dark and heavy, but proud. Dimples flashed, catching the light and her insides fluttered from the handsome man.
Then, to Oliver who sucked on his lower lip and fucked his hand with the fervour of a beast, stifling noisy moans against his arms. The slam of his hips against his fist was an oily and slick sound in the room.
His head was finally tossed back to reveal glorious collarbones through the spasms of his orgasm. His tongue was pink and pretty as they made the briefest of appearances to lick at his lips—soft and oh-so kissable. But his eyes, they were glued to her legs caught in the apex of her thighs, his body tilting for a better view.
He let out a soft begging whine, and hissed out with desperation through clenched teeth as he let loose into a wad of tissues. His body was shaking into his fists, building with the pain of not being able to cum within her. His hands closing tight around himself as the head of his cock disappeared and reappeared, red and angry.
The only one that cared about cleanliness.