[Hurricane makes a strangled, wanting kind of noise as the tentacles inside him stop moving; he whines and twists against the hold of the tentacles, immediately beginning to rock back. He's fighting hard to do it - trying with all his strength to fuck himself on the tendrils resting inside him, thick and heavy and maddeningly still]

Rye - ah, jesus, please - please - I need it - I n-need it so bad. It's burning me up inside, I - f-fuck me, fill me up, lemme - lemme move -

[The whine is almost plaintive, when Rye eases first one finger into himself and then the other; Hurricane's cock, untouched, pulses harder this time, a long strand of precome dripping down toward the comforter. He begins rocking back harder now, desperate - can't not reach for his own erection, needing to take himself in hand like he needs to breathe. When the tentacles tighten and pull him away again, he outright sobs - sobs again, harder, as the want collides with the sudden intense suction against his nipples]

O-oh my god. Please, it feels like - like torture. I wanna touch you, I want you to touch me, I need - g-god it's making me crazy, and I love it, and I - nn, don't - don't listen to that, I wanna finish, please touch me, t-touch me -

[His voice breaks on the last word, trembling into silence. He takes a shaking breath in to start again, and then Rye is lifting a new tentacle to his lips]

[He mewls when the pheromones kick up a notch, fighting for all he's worth to get more, to get anything. He takes the tentacle in front of him into his mouth, eagerly - urgently - tongue rippling against the underside as he moves to swallow it down]