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The Raven [Sekah & Taldemire]

"We were always outsiders," Crow admitted. "It didn't change anything, not really. Nothing can make me regret my choice."

He looked up at Rowan, listening to him ramble. It was hard to reconcile the softness in his voice now with the cruel man who painted this room with his sister's blood, who'd raped Crow.

Tempted from his morose loneliness by a man who'd shown himself so brutal, Crow hesitantly plucked the rowan berries from his hand. Then he tipped his hand and the berries fell to the wood floor. A moment later, leaves unfolded from it, a tree shooting up out of the ground, its leaves spread to catch the light that was impossible to find in this place.

"This is it," he told Rowan shyly. "This is what a rowan looks like."

He tapped a leaf and bobbed the delicate green branch. "I don't think a plant could stop a fae," he explained. "Most of my magic, at least, is plant magic."
 
Rowan nodded, listening to Crow's words and assurances of himself in the face of regret. Without all the knowledge of his past he at least assumed he did little to regret anyways. He seemed an honest enough man who cared more for his sister then he did of himself. The humans Rowan had met that were like this usually were much kinder beings then any of their other counterparts. What's the worse this man could have done to even regret. Envious longing for that kind of freedom swimming through the back of Rowan's head.

He watched Crow cautiously take the berries and cast them like dice across the floor. If this was Rowan's first sight of magic he'd be like a young boy giddy to learn how it was done, but that still didn't stop a small glimmer of amazement shimmering in his eyes. Suddenly the tree grew in the dimly lit room. A life surrounded by thin walls between two opposing forces.

Gazing at the mountain ash he spoke while pulling out the cold iron dagger from the pouch. "It's a lovely tree, more simple then I had imagined. Thank you for showing me." Twisting the hilt in one hand as the blade stuck into the tip of his forefinger drawing a small bead of blood. "I guess it makes sense. If you are magical beings of the earth then that which is natural would be an unusual deficiency. But something crafted by humans, forged and manipulated away from that nature could be used as a tool unfamiliar to the fae."
 
Crow watched him pull out the knife, glistening darkly in the dim light. Crow flinched back, ducking into his shoulders. He cringed away from Rowan. "I told you it was a weakness," he said of the iron knife. "Do you have to use it on me?"

He had an anti-iron ring that would protect him—bought from a witch—but he knew if Rowan wanted to test it, he wouldn't be satisfied without seeing what the iron could do. Iron burns were agony, and Crow didn't want to feel the pain—but he had no hope, no remedy to steer Rowan from his path, if he wanted to follow it.

Crow gulped shallowly, curling away from Rowan, waiting to be burned.
 
Placing his finger in his mouth a moment and then pressing it against his knee for pressure till the bleeding stops he looks up at Crow shaking his head. "No, sorry, I don't think I need to. Not right now at least." He says, letting the tip of the blade fall and stick into the wood flooring. A discarded iron with a gleem of light on the monolith. "We may have to, just so I can see it truly work, but I think I've caused you both more pain then was necessary. I'm beginning to see that now."

He rises to his feet reaching out an outstreched hand to help Crow up. Dusting himself off he speaks again, "I can't expect you to forgive any of what has been done, but that doesn't mean it has to continue. Are you hungry? Maybe we all can have a hot meal and discuss a route ahead of us. I've gotten enough supplies to whip something up to fill our stomachs. Does this sound fair?"

He asks in a way that didn't expect an answer, but made his way into the other room none the less. He released Hana from her tireless concentration on maps and routes. Asking if she had any luck with her task as he looks over her work.
 
Crow hesitantly, with slow movements like you make when you don't want to goad a wild beast, grabbed Rowan's hand and stood up. "I could eat," he said, shy, nearly surly.

He smiled a little, quickly there and gone. "Sure. That's—fair, sir."

Hana sighed and dug her thumbs into her temple. "I have a headache," she said, accusatory, and showed him the route through the jungle surrounding the city. Her report was brusque, and quickly over.

Crow automatically stood behind her and started massaging the tension and pain from her head with firm rubs over her tense neck and up over her skull. She sighed, and leaned back into his familiar hands.
 
Rowan quickly looked over her work, the jungle wasn't a terrible idea. It certainly gave cover from prying eyes, though it did add its own dangers they'd have to be vigilant of. Not only that it would be something else for Rowan to juggle as he keeps his eyes on Crow and Hanna. He nodded none the less though and actually thanked her for her efforts.

"Not bad, we may not go through the jungle the whole way, but it does grant us some expediency and some cover. Thank you, I release you from your task now, Slut. Enjoy some time with your brother, I need to cook us all something. Feel free to pour yourselves something to drink in the mean time."

He looked up and motioned with his eyes at a few jugs of Surāh he had bought. Something to drink when water was scarce to boil. Figuring it wouldn't hurt to tap into a bit now, before their journey. Hoping it might help lossen everyone up from all the recent tension. A cup of the alcohol would certainly let his wide shoulders rest the riggidity they've kept lately. For now though he gave them a roll, pulling up his sleeves before grabbing a large pan and firing up the wood stove. It looked as if it hadn't been used in a very long time, but Rowan's hands moved in a way that felt comfortable. He cleaned out the firebox and swept up the old ash. Filled it with dry wood and positioned the pan up on the burner before giving it a light. A small splash of oil as it was allowed to heat up to temperature.

As Rowan left the two fae to their own devices he was busy preparing a few simple ingredients. Cutting up several vegetables and a bit of chicken he was able to afford. Soon the sounds of sizzling crackled through the room, crushed and divided spices slowly being incorporated into the cream and meat. Simmering as all the flavors married, filling the house with this slightly sweet and herbatious scent of a simple curry. A dish Rowan was still slowly learning to make in his travels to and from his silk sales. One he hadn't made for anyone else before, hoping it was as palatable as he believed it to be in his own opinion.

After a while, the house now filled with all the powerful savory aromatics. A bit of flat bread was pulled from a wrapped cloth as he began to get ready to serve them all a meal. "I should be finishing soon you two, grab a bowl over on that shelf if you'd like some." He said, stirring the dish one last time, giving it a taste to make sure the flavor was right before pulling it off the heat.
 
Hana trailed after Crow like a lost child as he stood, and they ended up sitting back down after Hana poured a drink for herself and Crow, and left a third sitting on the table near Rowan. The two siblings sat back together after that, Crow's arm around Hana's shoulders, Hana's head turned into his neck, where possibly it was disguised from Rowan that she was crying. The two siblings said nothing to Rowan or each other, just sat, Hana softly weeping and Crow looking at Rowan's feet with guilty eyes.

When the food was done, Crow got up and spooned Hana and him two helpings. The siblings ate away from Rowan, and they ate in a strange way, especially Crow. Body hunched around the serving, as if guarding it, eating so fast it looked like it would make him sick. Licking the sauce off their right hand when they were done. Only people who had starved could eat like that.

They sat again after cleaning, avoiding Rowan and just leaning together. Crow pulled a comb out of some corner of their house and began to gently do up Hana's hair, braiding it carefully in the front. Delicate vines grew between the braid, opening into delicate blossoms of vibrant jungle flowers.
 
Most meals were a solitary affair, even in his changling home with everyone he would choose to eat outside among the trees and the birds. It was more peaceful in that tranquil natural silence, but be it because of the debacery that had sullied this property or the awkwardness of the two siblings huddled in their own corner across the room that usual soft silence was uncomfortably sour. Rowan could hear ever mouth sound that he made as he chewed the bites of food he had. He had wished for anything to break up that quiet air, even awkward conversation would be savored.

The man had felt it was best to leave them be for now though. Surely they'd rather each others company more so then his butting further into their privacy. That and their ravenous tearing through their food had left a hallow pain within Rowan's stomach. If Crow was to believed they had surely gone through far more then just a changlings bitter rage. No creature that has lived a comfortable life eats like that, Rowan only knowing feint memories of times where he'd eat any small morsal of food that was given to him by the fae in his imprisonment. That small morsel of meal a piece of survival that was greedily devoured so to live on another day. Seeing them like that made him eat slower, the meal wasn't as apatizing anymore. There was a genuine love between the two fae that could not be tarnished by the world no matter how vile it could be.

Sipping at his drink, looking into the alcoholic brew he had wondered why it had to be these two. For all the fae that could have been run across, why couldn't have been a more pompous and impish set that were more deserving of what these two were subject to. Though, would anyone deserve such a fate? Thoughts swirling in his head, kicking up his feet on the rickety table. He let the warmth of the drink spread through his limbs as he silently tried to let the night creep further ahead. Finishing his second cup as he begins to really feel a slight buzz, like static in his head to ease his mind. Going for a third and final glass he had started feeling something that was off. Surely he shouldn't feel as fogged as he was, it was as if something stronger was creeping inside his body over the intoxication. Confused and concerned he stood up, looking around in panic as his body began to fail itself. His mind clouding heavily and his body going numb, his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. Even before he could say a word the buzzing warmth became a empty black void when his head clashed against the floor with a solid boney pop.
 
Hana jumped up. "It worked," she stated, sounding rather surprised about it.

"Hana!" Crow cried. "What did you do! He'll kill us—he'll kill you! Neither of us can hurt him!"

"No," she said, grinning mischievously, "but he didn't say anything about running, and this is a port city."

Crow sighed, massaging his eyes. "Let's go," Crow said, climbing up like his bones hurt. They rushed around their house, grabbing anything necessary, putting two packs together. Beloved heirlooms of places they'd been and people they'd known were left callously where they lay—they had no room or time for sentiments.

Crow was growing vegetable after vegetable, fruit after fruit, nut after nut, filling both their pockets and packs with food until he was swaying slightly.

"Crow, come on," Hana laughed, and it was a little wet, "you're exhausting yourself; we don't need all this, you're going to make it too heavy to lift."

In response, after finishing his silent run through of their house and all their things, he grabbed Hana by the hand. "Come on, little sister," he said. "Let's go."

By then it was deep nighttime, pitch black outside as Crow ran as fast as he could and hauled Hana behind him by her wrist—he never let go of it, holding it almost too tight, afraid if he didn't touch her she'd be gone, like a wisp in the black wind.

He needed to feel her pulse beneath his fingers, desperately. He needed to feel she was still alive.

They made it to the harbor, which was black and silent at this time of night, and banged on the locked door of an inn where the captains of ships often stayed.

It took hours to find which ship was leaving earliest in the morning, and to convince the captain of it to give strange folks passage. It was a red-sailed junk headed into deep imperial China, which suited Crow fine. He liked China, he knew China, he had some ideas of how to act in China—better than starting somewhere and having to learn the customs and appropriate behavior from scratch.

They slept aboard the ship, head on the same lump of sailcloth, held gently in each other's arms, waiting for the ship to set sail in the morning. Hana slept deeply—Crow barely napped, staring into the night and trying not to imagine when the soporific Hana'd grown would end its effect.
 
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Each touch of Hana's skin, with that pulse of life like the thrum of a drum deep inside her veins. That same ebb and flow of consciousness washing ashore to the huddled, shaking form of Rowan coming to.

"What happened?"

A groggy grumble as the man lifts himself up to his hands and knees. Staring into the hard flooring, a small pool of that looked the way his forehead felt crusted with drying blood. Rowan lifting one hand to compress against the pumping throb of his head. Only then being able to focus his vision and look around the empty room. Empty of anyone. They were gone and he looked a fool.

A snarl, a venomous growl, escapes the changlings clenched jaw. "That bastard fae. Always tricking, always lying, and with their magics I'm made always to look a fool."

Bones crack and flesh tears with how fast Rowan's body transforms. His breathing harder as his jaw tightens into iron. His lip didn't know whether to scowl in bitter disdain or crack into a twisted grin. He laughs a cold raven's cackle as this mass of large silken feathers plume. Like the night sky descending onto earth with hate filled beady eyes and a wicked beak wielded in cruelty. A voice comparable to an unkindness echoing in an ocean cave says,
"This time, I hunt."

Muscles compressing all their energy as he arcs and then leaps into the air. Black wings flapping and into the sky he disappeared. The only thing that was left of his presence was a single onyx feather, leaving the place to seem as if a murder took some unfortunate souls.

It took time to catch their scent on the wind. Difficulty increased as he flew above the clouds to hide himself when the daytime broke. Finally, like a pin on a map he smelt their faelian scent across the ocean breeze.

His silent stalking decent finally coming with the night's gentle cloak. Staying just far enough away that he can see the ship carrying his prey. A small crew that was never going to see another ray of day light again. Their fate for harboring the two beings who were about to wake up into a nightmare, the feint sounds on the wind of large wings that are so quiet it could easily be waves crashing in the sea.

There was this atmosphere of thick paranoid silence creeping over the two fae. Wind brushing all the tiny hairs standing on end. Was it just an eerie chill of the night or an ominous gregoeian hum that played like marching music against the horizon.

That feeling one gets when the nightmare is at its crest of anticipation just to be ripped out and see reality as the continuation of that nightmare stalking you in the dark corner of a room. A familiar voice whispering a breath against Crow's earlobe.

"You broke our deal Crow. Did you truly just wish to become broken, Beast? You beautiful idiot."
 
Crow had finally sunk into an exhausted doze around dawn. He was blind, dumb, to the approach of the monster, until he was whispering in his ear. Even as he was regaining consciousness, the name order wrapped him up.

"No, I never want to break," he told his captor, and then froze, staring at him wide-eyed.

He rolled over abruptly, caging his slumbering sister between his arms, covering her body with his strong back.

"Please! Punish me, sir, not her! It's my fault." His shoulders were shaking, a preemptive tear falling on Hana's soft cheek.

She fluttered awake, groggily asking, "Crow?"

Then she saw what was over his shoulder, and paled, her hands clenching in her brother's shirt. She winced, saying nothing, her face stark with fright.
 
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What were cold hunter eyes melted away with the glint of blacken silk night feathers and beak. A dressing of avian attire swept away from the wind that crashed against the man as he stood bare and wild before the storm. Then all it was, was wind. An inky cloudy sky. Dim lantern light casting only decedant haze into it. Like finally waking up from a nightmare into the silent air. No sound other then the crashing waves and creaking ship. No crew. No life. It was like night had threatened to swallow all.

Crashing in with a sudden blow across Crow's jaw. A loose pop of fist meeting chin. The fae thrown down with the sudden strike. Knocking him off his sister with the swift collision.

"Oh I know Crow, I know this is your fault. How can I blame you though? A caged animal is just going to rattle at the bars and break free. That's why you broke your promise. You were to protect through your compliance, or did you so soon forget?"

It was then that Rowan grabbed Hana by her hair, yanking her up and against him. His muscles tightening against her neck as he locks her in place. You are free to thrash and riot your anger at me, but I command you will not stop me. Beast you will not stop me from doing what I am doing. Slut, you will fuck me while your brother watches. Right before his face, Crow sees Rowan bending Hana over, a tuft of her hair in his fist, while the other guides her back onto his cock. The same way he pushed himself deeply within Crow, he filled her until at his base he collided with her body. That same slapping sound echoing from before when the man's balls slapped into the crying fae. It was a primal clap that found a rhythm to climb to. A twisted fate had befallen him and now made its way inside Hana, right before his eyes.
 
The blow hit him like a runaway cart, and he groaned and opened his eyes, surprised to be on the floor. He picked himself up, the name orders wrapping both of them up, and for a second he just stared, his eyes fully dilated until the iris was gone, his mouth hanging open and every muscle in his body resisting his call to move.

He watched as Hana stripped her own underwear, her small lips twisted up in rage, her thin, supple thighs parting for him as he dragged her in by her hair.

The tears started, finally. Only a few from Hana, as she threw her head back much as she could with her hair a leash and growled into the night like a feral thing as Rowan ripped her small, shallow vagina open with his cock.

The small tears dripped down her face, dried, and were forgotten. But Crow's tears, when they came, were brutal. He clenched a hand over his chest, a panic attack gripping him at the worst time, gasping like a dying man as he tried to draw breath in her lungs. His tears came thick, snot dripped down his face and was ignored. He flung himself at Rowan, unable to hurt him in any way, but grabbing his shirt, pleading with him pitifully, going onto his knees.

"No, please, not Hana, I beg you sir, Gods, please, please, I'll do anything, I'll do anything you want, please no, not Hana, please sir, please!"

He pressed his messy face to Rowan's wrist and smeared it with tears and snot, grabbing it tight, supplication in every line of his body. "I beg you, I'm begging you—Gods, please—I changed her diapers, sir, please no, please—"

He pulled his face away, long sticky lines of tears and his panic-emptied sinuses, gasping for air, wracked with brutal sobs. His whole body heaved with each sob, unable to breathe, looking like he was dying. He no longer had the breath to plead, he just clung to Rowan's shirt and Hana's hand and lost every breath he gained into wailing with grief. Hana met Rowan's eyes directly, viciously, baring her teeth at him like she could crunch off parts of his face, which she undoubtedly be trying to do but for name order.

Rowan forced deeper into her pussy than she could take, the pain making her nearly double over. She was small, so delicate and fragile in his palms, despite her warrior's face. Her tiny breasts rocked as Rowan forced into her, her thighs shaking as she bit her lip to disguise any sound of pain. To bottom out in her he had to dig into her insides, into places she didn't want him and didn't want him to go. She was warm around him, barely lubricated, aching in pain from his intrusion. her body rocked back and forward from his fucking.

"I'll kill you some day," she promised Rowan. Her lip was firm and other than her traitor thighs, she didn't shake.

"Ple—ase—" Crow managed to gasp out, the first real word in minutes. He frantically healed the micro-abrasions and tears inside Hana, soothed her pain even as Rowan caused it, while Hana lay back with her lips twisted up and glared in Rowan's eyes.
 
Rowan looked back into Crow's eyes, head shaking violently, but his own never move an inch from those eyes. A smugness smudged like oil across his stoic features. Cruelly he chuckled as Crow shook desperately in vain. His inability to save his sister sending the man into a sniveling pond of tears.

"How dare you. What, you want to make another deal that you can break? Waiting for an open opportunity so you can get away again? How much longer do you think I'm going to let myself listen to fae lies."

Each word is mocked as Rowan let's the shaking and pulling at his collar line up with his strokes. Rubbing the event in his face as he begs for it to stop. Rowan could feel the resistance from Hana, as much as her body followed its commands, her will was still making sure it drew back as much pleasure as she could from him. It only achieved Rowan using her just a bit rougher. Occasionally yanking her hair and joggling her head.

"I gave you a choice, Crow. Your cooperation for you're sister safety." His eyes burned offensively as he spoke at Crow. Hana hearing those words and realizing what she had done. She realized how much danger she put her and her brother in. Her eyes looked painfully to her brother, looking away in shame towards herself as still even now he is bartering for her safety in place of him. She looked back to him, hand over hers as he clinches Rowan's shirt.

The cold wet ocean air draped across all three bodies like damp sheets of cloth threatening to fly away with the wind. Rowan's voice shouted out, "You want to beg? Show me you will do as you're told this time. Without me having to use your name. I want you to chose to do it. I want you to cum for me as I defile your sister. If you can finish before I do, then I'll reward you before we leave your sister be." Rowans face was pulled back in wild cruelty like a carnivorous bird as he cursed the words towards Crow. His hand twisting so Hana couldn't look away. Her serpent-tongued threat sharp scorn against his soul. It was primal in how true her statement felt, he could only snarl at her in return, but he leaned down and pulled her up to his lips. If he couldn't break her himself, surely breaking her brother would sink deeper under her skin. The words he whispers into her, as he stopped moving his hips, were commands. "Enjoy this Slut. When I cum, you Slut, will look at your brother and say to him. 'You chose to know and know nothing more...how cruel, big brother."

Then he threw her head back down, the assurance that was beginning to slicken his motions was dawning. His hips thrust and allowed himself to enjoy Hana like a toy, while he watched Crow figure out his decision. A laugh as he smacks her ass with a swift pop. "Better hurry and decide soon though! Looks like your sister is starting to enjoy herself, I might not last long. Then what? Surely you don't want me to cum inside her!" He cackled harder, finally broken in his doubts. Mad with the control in his hands as he takes every movement to engrave his cock into the body of one sibling as the other begs for it instead.
 
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Hana's head jolted to the side, torquing her neck, and she whimpered finally, fighting back the tears, wanting to give nothing to Rowan. Crow clutched her hand so hard it hurt, but she didn't have the heart to tell him. He was heaving with sobs, rocking back and forth like he was touched. He pulled his knees up to his chest, curling his arms around them, a fetal curl that did nothing to sooth him. His toes turned in, his face buried in his knees, his vulnerable shoulders shook and jerked with his pathetic, gasping sobs.

When he spoke to Crow, offering his poisonous deal, Crow raised his stricken face in stark disbelief.

"You're crazy!" Hana shouted at him. "You're a fucking bastard! You're a shit-eating loon!"

Whining to himself like a kicked puppy, shaking like he'd fall apart, like an earthquake was heaving through his body and soul and leaving cracks and tremors all around him, he fumbled with the ties to his pants. When he pulled out his cock, it was small and limp—it was cold, he was scared, traumatized, horrified, repulsed.

A dry swallow and he tried to nurse his cock to help, choking on air from his panic as Rowan wrapped Hana in his poisonous commands.

Hana finally screamed. Not a craven noise, or a noise of pain—a defiant roar in the face of her enemy, a battle cry, a yell you make while fighting to the death. Still, her hole grew wet, and warm, and she couldn't help a small, thready moan that escaped, as pleasure gathered suddenly in her navel and crawled up her spine.

There was no pleasure for Crow. He clenched his eyes closed, trying to block out his baby sister being raped, so he could harden, and cum for this psychopath, and save his sibling. It was like pulling rope. His cock only withered more for the attention. He could barely breathe, his flesh crawled with disgust just touching himself there—hardly conducive to arousal. Choking on every in-breath, numb and pitiful and weeping like he was deranged, he tried to nurse his limp cock to hardness, with no success.

In the cold, pale light of early morning, Hana's skin shone like amber, and Crow's like polished jasper. Crow's handsome face was made ugly with weeping, his eyes and cheeks red and raw, his nose leaking snot he didn't bother to wipe up, lips parted and gasping for air like he was dying.

That wasn't all that was dying. Around the ship, in every direction, the water and ship were turning strange colors, the barnacles, the seaweed, the plankton all dying, a curse, a blight covering this harbor that wouldn't be reversed for a thousand years. Crow was unaware he was doing it; were he aware, he wouldn't have been able to stop it. In his agony, he was slowly turning deaf and dumb, and his magic was working against him, triggering the natural defense mechanisms of a fae—the faerie fight or flight.
 
"Look at you." Rowan said, finding a stride as he bounced Hanna into him. No amount of mockery as he scowls and stares down at Crow. His hand weakly fondling his limping cock. A pathetic attempt that infurated the changling.

"If that's all you can spare, then maybe you'll see how much you've fucked up. Just remember, this is what you chose. Beast." He says Crow's true name only as a curse against his tongue. No order, just his scowl as he looked at the fae, he looked as if he was falling apart. A murky feeling fills the undertones of the air. Rowan kept slapping away. His balls like bells chiming in an empty city. Wet slapping chimes as he defiles the sister fae.

"Maybe I can help persuade you, as it seems you do not understand. A small "gift" to allow you a chance to achieve your goal. Beasts, I want you down by my cock licking and suckling my base and balls. Beast and Slut, you both will share my ecstasy among yourselves. You both can cum, but it will be together and you would still need to beat me before I drain my seed into your dear sister. Beast you will taste of her and I as you please us both, helping yourself climb into climax and find victory for once and for all. You do that? Then I could just move on and leave you both behind. But I doubt you have the power to do so. I already crave for your defeat."

Shifting allowing him in, Rowan continued to rape Hana, as her brother fought his need to run and or fight. His instincts and his command clashing forces that felt as if the wind would blow away the loser of the duel. Droplets of Hana dripping down Rowan's balls.
 
His words were prophetic to Beast. They wrapped him up; they were inescapable. This is what he chose.

He crawled on his hands and knees like an animal, flipped on his back, weeping messily, snot and tears and spit as he wriggled between Rowan's legs, his wet cheeks slimy against Rowan's thighs, heaving in contractions with his sobs, as he took Rowan's full, cinched sack in his mouth and suckled, nearly choking on it, his tongue lapped into his base and touched his sister's flesh and he recoiled, with the natural reaction of jumping back from a live spider.

Minding Rowan's promise, his shaking hand nursed his hardness, trying to find some pleasure. With Rowan's name order, there was pleasure now—at least, Crow's cock became swollen in his hands—but was that pleasure? It felt more like pain, as his hands and wet mouth worshipped Rowan, the sack and the base when he wasn't balls-deep inside his little sister, who had gone silent as the grave and stared grimly at the far-off waves roiling wet and grey in the early dawn light.
 
Rowan stood in that damp ocean air, the feeling of his cock being stroke and his balls being suckled by the siblings. It already had felt enjoyable enough. Not that it was an enthusiastic affair, it still allowed him that building enjoyment that made his scrotum tighten around his aching orbs. The tantalizing attempts Crow made in desperation to finish his own race before Rowan was able to leap past the finish line.

"That's a good man. Don't be shy, that tongue of yours actually feels lovely when you suckle the juices of your sister off me." A deep grunt from the changlings mouth as he continues moving his hips. Psychically Hanna was there, but mentally he could already tell she was checking out, but he still found enjoyment in Crow's suffering.

Above the rocking waves that crashed like the clapping of skin on skin. The moan of one man while the other one on his hands and knees hffing and breathing as he works diligently to his captors self. The tightening of the skin firming, the cock between Hana's lips was swelling, having found a rhythm that was engulfing his desires in a way that allowed his enjoyment despite the circumstance. Crow's help a fluttering electricity that bubbled heated in his loins. Closer was Rowan getting to his climax.
 
Crow felt his pulse beating in pain behind his temple, and he was pretty sure the drum's tempo was struck in his cock. He felt aching and raw, quaking and sobbing pitifully into Rowan's perineum as he lavished his sack with diligent attention, his shaking hand yanking at himself like he didn't know how to do it.

Maybe he didn't, anymore. Maybe he'd never be able to willingly touch himself to completion again after this.

The musky taste of the man was on his skin, that clean skin, a little salty for Rowan's sweat. His thick thighs caged Crow in.

Hana had checked out—she'd closed herself off into a shell, as if the parts of her Rowan were touching weren't parts of her at all. She was stone, and he was water, and his grunting, thrusting, they were the brash cries of an animal. Nothing human. Nothing that could be reasoned to, talked to, or loved.
 
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