( rafayel is a revelation, a collection of mysteries, heartache, and a glimmer of joy amongst the unknowable ocean of impossible depths. in this moment, she feels closer to him than she ever has, feels as if she can unravel him and know his thoughts, to figure out what makes him tick.

his hands are warm, searching, setting every sense alight as he explores. there are scars from endless fights and long-forgotten memories, so many of them faded into the canvas; but others can still be felt, and she can't help a surge of self-consciousness whenever his touch brushes them. still, she buries it, distracted by the way he tears up the lace. )

Raf —

( the chide is half-hearted at best, breathless and filled with longing, her gaze hungry and lidded. she gasps, squeezing tight and tensing when she feels those elegant, beautiful fingers push inside of her slippery-slick cunt. she grips him tightly, as if she's been afforded something she's long been craving, and she shivers, leaning down with flushed cheeks, her other hand curling in his hair.

she slips her hand down, down, unzipping and freeing him from the confines of his pants, and is suddenly reminded of that time he'd been in heat, how he'd craved touch, and she nudges her nose against his so she can claim his lips to kiss him, heated and wanting. )

No. They're not enough. Oh — ( she's nearly slurring against his lips, enthralled by his skill. ) Please... deeper. You're so close — ( then, a soft little smile. )

Give me both, tonight. Do you — do you need to be in the tub...?