Chasing Lightning
Summary: You've spent all day teasing, tempting, taunting - you've really tested Astarion's patience this time. But pushing his boundaries is your favourite past time. Now, here you are, over his knee, about to receive the punishment you longed for, all according to your devious plan. Not that you'd ever admit it, of course.
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 2003
Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader
Content: Shameless smut, bratty reader, Dom!Astarion, spanking, light BDSM elements, rough sex, PiV.
Gif by silverformymonsters on Tumblr!
A/N: This, uh... Yeah, no, this is just shameless smut. I am so sorry. Behold, my spanking fic, written in a moment of madness.
You lay over his knee, eager, anticipating - a willing sacrifice on the altar of his desires. Each trail of his fingertips across the bare skin of your backside is a promise of what is to come.
You deserve this, you think to yourself. All your teasing, all your temptations. The way you pressed yourself against him when no one was looking, your face a pretty picture of faux innocence; the way you swayed your hips as you sauntered ahead of him, glancing back to meet his eyes, knowing they would be heavy with that predatorial hunger which ignites the flames of arousal deep in your belly. All part of your plan, which he is more than willing to oblige.
You hear Astarion’s voice, dark and dripping with honey.
“I propose a game, darling. A test of your intuition, shall we say?” You hear the wicked smile in his voice and it sends shivers of sweet anticipation coursing through your body. “I'll think of a number, one through ten, and you'll have to guess it based on how hard I spank you. Guess wrong, and I'll spank you again - the same strength - until you guess correctly. Understand?”
“Yes,” you breathe, wilfully yielding to him . There’s an intoxicating power in surrender. Your submission is a choice, freely given, and that makes it all the more potent.
In yielding, you become more. More alive, more aware, more you than you've ever been. The world narrows to the point of contact where his hand meets your skin. You are the ocean, and Astarion the moon, pulling you into new shapes with the inexorable force of the tide.
“Very good,” he purrs. His thumb rubs the gentlest of circles on your wrists as he binds them behind you with his spare hand. “Of course, if it becomes too much, just say the word. I can be merciful… on occasion.”
The game begins, a dance of unseen touches and breathless anticipations. Astarion’s hand hovers above you, its presence like the charge before a lightning strike.
“Let’s start with a simple one, shall we?”
His touch against your bare arse is a whisper at first, cool fingertips ghosting across your skin. More caress than slap. You shiver, every nerve alight with anticipation.
“One,” you murmur, more exhale than voice.
Astarion’s chuckle vibrates through you, a low rumble that you feel more than hear as you bury your face into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, my dear. We’re barely getting started.”
The next strike lands with purpose - a sharp, precise sensation that blooms across your skin. It’s not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but something exquisitely in between that draws a gasp from your lips.
“Four?” you venture.
“Warm, but not quite.”
He strikes - the same strength once more, as promised.
“Three!” you gasp, revelation and pleasure mingling in your voice.
“Good girl,” Astarion praises and gods, how those words affect you. They sink into your skin, sweeter than honey, headier than wine. You crave his approval like air, each word of praise stoking the flames of your arousal higher.
The dance continues, each strike a new verse in this poem written on your skin.
Smack.
Five is a starburst of sensation. You feel this once, twice, three times until you finally guess correctly.
Smack.
Seven lands with the force of a thunderclap, reverberating through your body and leaving you trembling in its wake.
Smack.
Nine leaves you gasping, teetering on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain. The sting melts into a deep, throbbing warmth that pulses in time with your racing heart.
With each strike, each caress, the heat builds, a delicious tension coiling tighter in your core.
Four. Two. Six. Six again. Eight.
You find yourself arching slightly into his touch, eager for more, your body's reactions beyond your control.
Then, finally, comes ten.
It cracks across your flesh like lightning splitting the night sky, a white-hot streak of sensation that sears itself into your very soul. For a moment, the world whites out, every nerve ending alight with electric sensation. You cry out as the sensations overwhelm you, the number torn from your lips. The pain is exquisite, pushing you to the very limits of your endurance.
In the aftermath, you float in a sea of endorphins, your body humming with the echoes of Astarion's touch. Each point of contact throbs in time with your racing heart, a map of exquisite sensation etched onto your inflamed skin.
His cool hand soothes over the heated skin. The contrast sends fresh shivers through you, and you moan gently in response, despite yourself. Your skin is hypersensitive, your mind a mess of exhilaration and desire, eager for more, more, more.
Through the haze of lust, Astarion's voice chimes clear. “My, my. Such enthusiasm,” he purrs. “Tell me, darling, did you spend all day dreaming of this? Because I certainly did… in excruciating detail.”
You turn on his lap to look up into his eyes, suppressing a smile. “Who, me? I would never!”
Astarion's eyebrow arches, smirking at your obvious lie. “Is that so? So the way you rubbed yourself against me all morning like a worg in heat was just a coincidence, was it?”
You can't help but giggle at his accusation, which only seems to fuel his amusement.
“Do you have any idea how long you left me aching today?”
“I'm sorry,” you pout.
“Sorry who?”
“I’m sorry, Astarion.”
You don't mean it. And he knows it.
You could be good - a sweet, obedient little thing. But to be bad - to challenge him, to tease him, to test his patience until he finally brings you to heel - why, that's just so much more fun.
“That’s better,” he coos, his voice and his praise caressing you like silk along your skin as he gazes back at you, expression equal parts warmth and something much darker - hungrier - beneath. “Cheeky little pup."
He pauses, and the air becomes heavy with anticipation.
“But I'm not done with you yet.”
He rises and shifts you in a blur of motion, bending you over the edge of the bed, leaving your face buried in the soft sheets. Suddenly, you're exposed to him, your arousal on full display, and you feel the air against your hypersensitive flesh. Yet, in this moment, there is no place you would rather be than at his mercy. You are eager, dripping with expectation.
In the midst of your lustful haze, you hear the rustling of clothes - the familiar sound of his trousers unlaced. It sends your imagination soaring. Your core aches with what is to come.
But Astarion, the cruel man he is, doesn't enter you. Not yet.
Instead, you feel the head of his cock slide maddeningly, agonisingly slowly up the slit of you. You feel him become slick with your arousal as he slides down, and back up your slit once more, just barely skimming your clit, which throbs desperately with need. Such delicate, teasing touches - enough to drive you to madness.
“Do you want it?” He purrs.
“Mmhm,” you mumble pathetically into the fabric.
“Tell me, love.”
“I want–”
He inserts himself before you finish, colliding with you with the force of planets, stealing the breath from your lungs. The union is electric, a completion so intense that it borders on painful.
His desperation is evident, at odds with the image of restraint he was attempting to conjure as he ruts into you with wild abandon. His hands are everywhere at once, desperate and searching. Your own fingers claw at the fabric of the bedsheets, mindlessly, drunk on the sensation of him.
Astarion’s hands soon settle on your hips, pulling you to him as you collide again, again, again. You aid him, pushing yourself against his hips with each thrust, needing to be closer, always closer. You move together in a frenzy, chasing that elusive peak with single-minded determination. The world beyond ceases to exist; there is only this moment, this need, this all-consuming desire.
Breaths come in ragged gasps and are punctuated by moans and whispered pleas. “More,” you beg; “please,” you exclaim, though you're not sure how he could possibly get any closer, any deeper within you.
You feel his hand slide beneath you, and you lift your hips to greet him. Your throbbing clit welcomes his expert touch as he begins to unravel you as easily as he picks locks. He rubs circles around the bud, gently, in stark contrast to his wild rutting - indicative of the tiniest threads of self-restraint which remain within him, spared only to bring you to your peak. But gods, in the heat of the moment, you are especially sensitive, and his touch quickly brings forth rippling waves of sensation which threaten to overwhelm you. Your body twitches of its own accord and you know your climax fast approaches.
Your own voice surprises you, high and desperate. Soft whimpers escape your lips, growing in intensity and frequency as the tension builds.
Behind you, Astarion's sounds are a primal counterpoint to your own. His usual smooth tones are roughened by desire, a gravelly undertone that sends shivers down your spine. Low growls rumble from his chest - they speak of a hunger barely contained.
As you both near the edge, your voices mingle and intertwine. The sounds blur together - gasps and moans, growls and whimpers. The volume rises, unchecked and unashamed. You care not who hears you now.
It is you who first reaches the point of no return. A cry escapes your lips, raw and primal. Your body quakes, and pleasure crashes over you, a torrent of sensation that drenches every nerve ending. You're swept away in the deluge, currents of bliss pulling you under, spinning you in their depths.
His release soon follows and, although you don't see him, you feel the intensity in the air, in his increasingly erratic pounding, in his breaths. A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating through your bodies like rolling thunder. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he releases into you, claiming you as part of his tempest.
He collapses against your back. His weight is solid and grounding like the calm after the storm. He pants slightly, aftershocks rippling through you both like distant thunder.
Slowly, the world comes back into focus.
Astarion's weight shifts behind you as his arm drapes lazily over your wrist. You feel his cool lips brush against your ear, and he nips it gently.
“If I didn’t know any better,” he muses, “I would say you enjoy being punished.”
You can’t help but laugh, the sound still slightly breathless. “If that’s what I get for misbehaving, I might have to do it more often.”
"Careful what you wish for, darling," he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "I have a whole arsenal of 'punishments' at my disposal. This was merely a taste."
“Is that a promise or a threat?”
“Why not both?” he replies, his tone rich with suggestion. “I do so enjoy keeping you on your toes.”
As he rises to his feet and helps you to yours, he kisses you, his gentleness a stark contrast from your earlier activities. Where there was an inferno, now there is now the warming comfort of the hearth. Where there was urgency, now there is patience. Eventually, you find yourselves settled once more, cocooned in the soft comfort of the bed. The lingering scent of your encounter mingles with the fresh smell of clean linens, a heady reminder of the night's activities.
“Alright?” Astarion’s voice is soft.
You nod, words unnecessary in this moment.
As you nestle closer to him, a contented sigh escapes your lips. Being bad certainly has its thrills. But these moments, wrapped in Astarion’s arms - these are treasures in their own right. The mischievous spark in you knows you'll seek out more opportunities to 'misbehave', but for now, you revel in this gentle aftermath, every bit as intoxicating as the storm that preceded it.
No Pressure Tags: @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @sparrowbard @chonkercatto
Masterlist can be found here.
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My first contribution for Bunnydoll Writing Week 2024 🩵💜🐰🧵
Ragatha wasn’t exactly sure what caused her to wake up with the gut feeling that she and Jax had overslept. It was like one of those natural feelings, like when you force yourself to wake up from a bad dream because you know it isn’t real and you’ve had enough. Your body just knows.
Well, she knew they were late for roll call. This wasn’t good. It was time to get up and get out there before anyone realized they were missing. If the others realized they were missing, they might come looking for them. If they came looking for them, they might discover they were in the same room together. If they found out they were in the same room together, questions would be asked.
Those were questions Ragatha wasn’t ready to answer yet.
As comfortable as she was, she gently shook the purple rabbit she was smooshed up against. Her cheek was pressed into his incredibly soft purple fur, her arms locked around his back. Jax’s head rested atop hers, his hands woven in her red curls as he slowly breathed in and out.
“Jax…” She nuzzled his chest while peppering soft kisses. “Wake up…”
“Mmm…”
Ragatha giggled. She loved how sleepy he always got, but now wasn’t the time to focus on that. They had to get up and get out there before anyone noticed their absence.
“Wake up, we’re late for roll.”
Jax blinked his eyes open and yawned loudly. Instead of moving, he nuzzled his face deeper into her messy hair.
“Forget roll,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Jax, c’mon,” Ragatha gently pushed against his chest. “We can’t let them find us like this, you know that.”
“Screw ‘em…”
“Jax!”
Ragatha wished she shared his carefree attitude. Every time she felt like she was ready to tell the others how serious she and Jax had become, something inside told her to wait. Maybe it was her own nerves. She didn’t know.
“Okay, okay,” Jax yawned again. “Jeez, gimme a minute…” He moved to stretch…
…and Ragatha shouted in pain.
“Ow! Jax! My hair!”
“What the—“ Jax glanced at his hands—paws—whatever you wanted to call them, and his eyes widened. His claws, which were usually hidden, were completely tangled up in Ragatha’s curls.
He hadn’t bothered putting his gloves back on last night and must’ve extended the claws while he was asleep.
“Can you let go?” Ragatha whined. “It hurts…”
“I would if I could, Dollface,” he muttered. “Only problem is…I’m stuck.”
“What?!” Ragatha tried to look up at him, but the angling of her head only pulled her hair harder and she winced. “Oh God!”
“It’s okay, don’t panic,” Jax sighed. “It’s not a big deal.”
“JAX!” Ragatha fumed. “We’re already late for roll! The others are gonna come looking for us. What are they gonna think when they find us like this? We’re barely dressed!”
Jax gave his hand an experimental tug. Then he tried retracting the claws on one of his hands. It was no good. Ragatha’s hair only became more tangled.
“Damn,” he sighed. “It’s not working.”
“Jaaaaax,” Ragatha hid her face.
“Maybe you can try reaching up and using your hands?” Jax suggested.
“I can try,” Ragatha said softly. She didn’t know how much help her raggedy hands would be. Probably not much. She sighed and reached awkwardly above her own head. She felt where his claws were tangled in her hair and started tugging on various curls, hoping something would loosen and separate. “From now on, you’re sleeping with your gloves on.”
“Yeah, yeah…just untangle me.”
Ragatha sighed. She continued to shift and wiggle her head, pulling at random strands of hair, but it was no use.
“Jax,” she groaned, defeated. “What do we do?”
“Got any scissors?” the rabbit snickered.
“Not funny!”
"Okay okay...maybe we can try some soap or something," Jax suggested.
"Soap?"
"Yeah...maybe it'll loosen everything up."
"That only works with jewelry...like rings and stuff," Ragatha shook her head, trying to prevent any more harsh tugging.
"Well I don't hear you suggesting anything, little Miss Pessimist," Jax muttered.
Ragatha glanced up at him. He was right. At least Jax was suggesting ideas to remedy their unfavorable situation...unlike her.
"Okay...I'm sorry Jax. You're right. Let's try it."
"Okay, well, let me shift backwards a bit and we can try to maneuver to the bathroom." He slid back a few inches on his side. Ragatha tried to move with him, but it was it tough. Jax continued to scoot until he reached the edge of the bed. "Ready doll? Move with me. Try to stand up."
Ragatha nodded. Jax shifted, attempting to get into a kneeling position on the bed. Ragatha tried to move with him like he suggested, but she wasn't quick enough.
"Owww!"
"You've gotta move faster!"
"I'm trying!"
"Heh, I thought you liked getting your hair pulled..."
"JAX!"
A voice outside the door startled them both. Immediately, they went silent, listening.
“…didn’t come out of her room this morning,” Pomni’s voice said.
“Shh,” Ragatha whispered. She prayed that they would just walk away.
“Yeah, I didn’t hear her this morning either,” Zooble’s voice said.
“What about Jax?” Gangle’s voice asked. “I didn’t see him either.”
“Who cares?” Zooble replied.
Ragatha felt a jolt of sadness for Jax. If he was affected by Zooble’s words, he certainly didn’t show it or voice it. He just lay there, still as ever.
“Just don’t make a sound,” Ragatha whispered. She gently pet his chest out of nervousness, unsure what else to do.
“Wasn’t planning on it, Doll,” he sighed. “But feel free to keep petting me.”
A knock. “Ragatha? You awake?” Pomni called.
“Oh no…” Ragatha squeezed her eyes shut.
“Tell her you’re sick,” Jax whispered.
“What? No!”
“Rags, trust me. If you don’t answer, they’ll worry more. They might try to come in here. If you tell ‘em you’re sick, then they’ll at least hear your voice and leave you alone.”
Ragatha thought about it for a moment before deciding that Jax was right. But…
“What about you?” she asked softly.
Jax shrugged. “Heh, they don’t care about me enough to wonder where I am.”
“Jax…”
“Don’t feel bad for me, I couldn’t care less,” he said. “Just answer them.”
The knock came again, louder this time.
“Ragatha?” Gangle called. “Is everything okay?”
Ragatha knew Jax was right. She needed to let them know she was at least well enough to answer them.
“Everything’s fine!” Ragatha called. “I’m just not feeling well today. I think I’m gonna sit this one out.”
“Are you sure?” Pomni asked. “D’you need anything?”
“No, no…I’m good! Just let Caine know, okay?”
“Oh…okay,” Pomni replied. “No problem. We’ll come check on you later, okay?”
“Okay!” Ragatha fake coughed a few times, just to keep the act up. “Ugh, sore throat too…I think I’m just gonna go back to—“
There was a loud and sudden POP and Caine materialized in the middle of Ragatha’s room. Absolutely nothing could have prepared the poor rag doll for how frightened she would become. She let out a shrill scream, while Jax cursed loudly. To make matters worse, Jax shifted automatically, yanking Ragatha’s head with him. She yelped in pain.
“OUCH!”
“Did someone say sick? My dear Ragatha, I came to check on—goodness me! Jax, what in the world are you doing in here?”
“JAX?” Pomni, Gangle, and Zooble all shouted at once.
“$&!t,” Jax groaned.
Ragatha hid her burning face in Jax’s chest. She wanted to melt into the floor and disappear for good.
“What—why—when—“ Caine stammered. “Oh my…”
“It’s not…I mean, this isn’t what it looks like,”
Ragatha tried to explain. “We just…Jax came to check on me and—“
“Why are Jax’s hands tangled in your hair?” Caine asked.
“What?” Pomni shrieked.
“Can you just leave?” Jax muttered to Caine. Ragatha could feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off him now, too.
“His claws are stuck,” Ragatha said, no longer trying to keep up the act. At this point, all she wanted was to be freed from this frustrating scenario and to bury herself under her covers.
“Jax has claws?” they heard Gangle say.
“Goodness, why didn’t you say so?” Caine snapped his fingers and immediately, the two were separated and fully dressed in their usual attire. Ragatha scrambled to stand. Jax rolled his eyes and slowly stood.
“Th-thank you,” Ragatha said shyly.
“No problem at all,” Caine said, obliviously. “Now that you’re both decent, how about we get started on today’s adventure?”
“I—“ Ragatha looked at Jax. He glanced in her direction.
Before Ragatha could figure out which direction her thoughts were heading, the door to her room burst open and Pomni, Zooble and Gangle stood there, staring. They looked from Ragatha, to Jax, to Caine, and then back at Ragatha.
“W-what’s happening?” Pomni asked. She pointed to Ragatha. “You…and Jax?”
Jax flashed a yellow smile. “Hard to believe, huh?”
Pomni’s mouth dropped. Ragatha’s face turned several shades of red. Oh no…she wasn’t ready to confront this yet. Not with everyone watching her like this.
“W-well, um…” Ragatha was at a loss. “What he means is—“
“Good thing it’s not true,” Jax shrugged.
Ragatha looked at him sharply.
“It’s not?” Zooble cocked an eyebrow.
“Nope,” Jax replied. “I noticed Dollface was late this morning and wanted to check on her. I found her sleeping and tried to prank her by messing with her hair, but…I guess the joke’s on me, huh?”
Zooble narrowed their eyes at them. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then don’t,” Jax shrugged and snickered. “I don’t care either way.” He pushed past them all and strode into the hallway. “’Til next time, Rags. A centipede with your name on it, crawling in your hair…”
Ragatha watched him go. She wanted to chase after him, to thank him for his quick thinking and white lie, which she knew he only did to spare her any embarrassment.
Ragatha knew Jax didn’t care who knew about their relationship the same way she did. Maybe she ought to start thinking more like him. Honestly, he was probably right. Who cares if the others knew? She and Jax were together now. Why should that be secret? Why should she be embarrassed? Especially since it made her so happy. She should flaunt that. She should—
Ragatha’s thoughts were interrupted as Caine gently turned her around by the shoulders and led them all to the main hall for roll. She’d figure it out later, she supposed.
-
Later that night, they settled into bed. Ragatha wrapped her arms around Jax’s chest, while the rabbit nuzzled the top of her head, tired from another long day and grueling adventure.
Ragatha noticed he did what she requested and was wearing his yellow gloves. He’d been doing so much for her lately. Almost anything she asked of him, actually. She felt a rush of affection for him.
“Jax?” she whispered.
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” He cracked an eye open and looked at her sleepily.
Ragatha tilted her head up and kissed him tenderly. He was so tired, but he slowly kissed back. When they broke apart, Ragatha gently tugged his gloves off.
“What are you doing?” he mumbled.
“Making you more comfortable,” she replied.
“I can’t be held responsible for what my hands do while I’m sleeping, Doll,” he warned her. He wrapped her tightly in his arms.
“It’s okay,” Ragatha said. “There are worse ways to wake up than to be tangled together with your boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend huh?” Jax flashed her his Cheshire grin. “I’m your boyfriend now?”
Ragatha stared at him, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She glanced away, feeling upset. “I-I thought so…”
“Hey,” Jax tilted her chin up to face him. “Easy, Dollface. I’m messing with you.”
“But are you?”
“Am I messing with you? Yeah, of course I am. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”
“No Jax…I mean are you my boyfriend?”
Jax looked at her. “D’you want me to be?”
Of course she did. She wanted that more than ever.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then I’m your boyfriend,” Jax shrugged. He leaned in to kiss her again, cupping her cheek as he pulled away. “See? Was that so hard?”
Ragatha rolled her eye, trying to hide her blushing face behind pretend annoyance. It was no use trying to pretend though, because Jax saw right through her. He always did.
“Okay boyfriend,” she huffed, getting comfortable beside him. “Tomorrow we tell the others.”
“We do?”
“Yes, we do,” she said firmly. “I want the others to know how happy you make me.”
“Rags, all this sweet talk is making me feel nauseous.”
“Oh stop it…”
Jax chuckled softly. She could feel him getting sleepy beside her, his breathing deeper with each passing second.
She reached around to wrap her arm over his chest and happily drifted off to sleep, more content than she’d felt in a long, long time.
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the fabric of your flesh
Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader), Cirrus x f!Reader x Cumulus
Rating: EXPLICIT, MDNI
Tags: oh god where to begin, threesome, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), making out, serious relationship conversations, consensual infidelity, titty sucking, QUINT STRAP, masturbation, voyeurism, copia in the cuck chair, copia getting his balls slapped for being a little shit
Words: 7,300
Summary: You've always liked the ghoulettes. Maybe a little too much for your own good.
a/n: this fic takes place sometime after the events of sweet treat, a short little fic i wrote which sets the stage for the events of this piece. this is the longest single thing i've ever written so you know. enjoy lmao.
~~~
“Cardinal, what are your thoughts on sharing?”
Copia sets down the document he was reviewing and leans back in his chair, looking up at the ghoulette looming over his desk.
“It’s eh, a nice concept,” he says slowly, eyes flicking from Cirrus’ face to Cumulus seated behind her. “Is there something you…have in mind?”
“Your girl,” Cirrus says bluntly, and Cumulus yanks her backwards to sit in the chair next to her and give her a stern look. Copia’s eyebrows raise and he reaches up to stroke his mustache.
“What Cirrus was trying to say,” Cumulus begins, giving Cirrus another sideways glance, “is that we noticed there’s some um. Tension. Amongst us. And it’s not romantic,” she says in a rush, raising her hands placatingly when Copia opens his mouth, “we have no designs on her heart. That thoroughly belongs to you. What we mean is ah…more physical.”
A silence falls in the office as Copia watches his ghoulettes carefully while trying to fight back a smile.
“I see,” he says solemnly, leaning forward to steeple his hands, “have you discussed this with her?”
“We didn’t want to uh, step on any toes. So no. Not yet, anyway.”
He lets the silence simmer for a moment, watching Cirrus look around the room and Cumulus anxiously rub her hands. When he begins to laugh it makes both of them jump in their seats.
“Ladies,” he chuckles, “as if I haven’t seen your hungry eyes on her at every turn. I am very glad that you asked me for permission but the person you really need to speak to is her.”
A beat passes.
“So…is that a yes?” Cirrus asks, leaning forward.
“From me, sì. Under one condition, naturalmente.”
The ghoulettes look to one another.
“I get to watch.”
Cirrus snickers and Cumulus smiles.
“Oh that was a given, of course. But…you’re open to it?”
He smiles fondly at them.
“Sì, sì, I think it’s only fair to let her experience being with a woman or, eh. Women. Since she came to me untouched.”
“She what?!”
Once again he has to smother his laughter and instead looks at their gobsmacked faces kindly.
“Oh yes, you didn’t know? Despite her inexperience, however, she’s always been rather eh, voracious. And well…she’s not so inexperienced now I suppose, heh.” His eyes briefly unfocus as his mind conjures images of you in a litany of positions, eagerly and loudly taking him deep inside your–
Cumulus clears her throat politely.
“W-what…what were we talking about?”
“Your mate and her considerable sexual appetite,” Cirrus says wryly. Copia flushes deeply and fusses with his cassock, ignoring the bulge in his lap currently being hidden from view by his desk.
“Eh, right, right. Well as I said, this is ultimately her decision so uh, by all means. I think she’s working in the archives today.”
The ghoulettes stand and Cirrus gives him a slight bow before they turn to leave.
“Best of luck, my ghoulettes,” he calls to them as they walk out, surreptitiously adjusting himself. When the door shuts behind him he sags against the back of his chair.
This is going to prove interesting.
—
“Knock knock.”
You turn to look at the door and see two figures slip into the room - Copia’s ghoulettes, Cumulus and Cirrus. Your face splits in a smile - and your cheeks flush - as you wave the two in.
“Come on in, I’m just going through some of these old purchasing records for the collection. I–sorry, neither of you want to hear about this,” you say sheepishly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
Cirrus hops up to sit on one of the research tables while Cumulus leans on it next to her.
“We’d love to hear about it,” Cumulus murmurs.
You laugh. “You’re both very kind but not even Copia can listen to me talk about this kind of thing without nodding off no matter how hard he tries. I won’t subject you to it. How can I help you, though? Surely you didn’t come down here just to see me.”
“And if we did?” Cirrus purrs, leaning forward and putting her palms on her knees. Cumulus shoots her a sideways glance, lips tugging downwards in a slight frown.
There they are. Those butterflies ricocheting off the inside of your stomach every time you have an encounter with the two of them. The butterflies that make you sick if you allow yourself to linger on them. The butterflies that whisper accusations of infidelity in your ear.
“T-Then I’m sorry to disappoint you, ladies, for not being a more entertaining host.”
“Actually,” Cumulus says, her voice soft, “we wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?” you’ve abandoned the stack of record books to fidget with your hands.
“Something um, personal.”
Cirrus hops down from the table and slowly begins to advance on you, lips curving into a smile that shows the points of her canines. It’s predatory and devious and utterly delicious and you’re terrified. She backs you against a bookcase and props her hand above your head, her breath stirring the flyaways on the side of your face.
“Cirrus!” Cumulus barks, “You’re freaking her out, knock it off!”
Cirrus whips around.
“What? I just figured the best way to get what we want is to show her what we want.”
“And w-what do you want?”
Your voice is small, your concentration mainly focused on how you’re going to explain this should any unexpected visitors walk in. Cirrus still looms above you but is pulled away roughly by Cumulus, giving you an opportunity to breathe once again.
“Angel,” the shorter ghoulette breathes and the pet name makes your knees wobble traitorously, “We had a conversation with the Cardinal earlier - about this thing going on between the three of us.”
“N-nothing’s going on,” you whisper, panicked. “What…what did you say to him?”
“This is going really well, ‘Lus” Cirrus groans, collapsing in a desk chair.
“Fuck,” Cumulus swears under her breath, “okay let’s back up. Start with the basics. We like you.”
“…I like you too.”
“Allow me to be more specific. We like you. As in we want you.”
Your mouth gapes but no words come out.
“As in,” Cirrus says, spinning in the chair, “as in we want to do filthy, unspeakable, unholy things to you. And don’t act surprised - we can smell it on you. You want it too.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoff, cheeks flushed and arms crossed defensively, “I-I would never be unfaithful to Copia, regardless of what you smell on me.”
“We know, hon,” Cumulus murmurs, “which brings us back to the conversation we had with him earlier today.”
“You spoke with him about–about—”
“Sharing you?” Cirrus smirks, “Yeah. And he was open to it, under one condition - and provided that you are open to it, of course.”
“Sharing me? What like some kind of fucked up romantic timeshare situation? He was open to that?”
“Oh, don’t worry - we have no designs on your romantic relationship. We would never do that to the Cardinal. What we propose is purely physical.”
You go quiet for a moment, heart racing.
“What was Copia’s condition? Apart from my consent.”
“He wants to watch,” Cirrus says, lips curling into a filthy grin.
Your cheeks are so hot you swear you’re going to pass out, but no longer from embarrassment or stress.
From arousal.
“The two of you…really want me?”
Both ghoulettes laugh incredulously.
“Is that so hard to believe?” Cumulus says, stepping forward to toy with the loose ends of your hair. “Pretty little thing like you? Always being so sweet to us - to all the ghouls? We would be honored to have you.”
“And have you we would,” Cirrus growls, rising from her seat to advance on you once more, “Over and over until you beg for us to stop. Get you so drunk on pussy you can’t think anymore. All while your beloved mate watches us. So what do you say?”
When your eyes slide closed and head tilts back, a small whimper escapes you and you hear Cumulus sharply inhale.
“Think that’s a ‘yes’, ‘Lus.”
“I want to hear her say it,” Cumulus breathes, “Go on, angel. Tell us what you want.”
“Want…” your voice comes out in a rasp, “want you both. Want you to fuck me until I forget my own name. Want to taste you. And I want Copia to watch as you use my body for your own pleasure. Please. Please I–”
Your words are cut off as Cumulus lunges forward and slides her fingers to cup the base of your skull as her soft lips press against yours. She’s languorous about it - decadent - teasing your mouth open to slide her tongue against yours. You hear Cirrus whine and Cumulus chuckles into your mouth before pulling away. Before you can say a word, the taller ghoulette is upon you, backing you into the bookcase once more. Her kiss is more forceful than Cumulus’ - though no less enjoyable - and you gasp in delight when she slots a firm thigh in between your legs. When your hips rut against her, she pulls back.
“The Cardinal was right,” Cirrus grins, “you are a voracious little thing, aren’t you?”
You laugh, hands brushing her waist.
“He said that about me?”
“Mmhmm,” Cumulus says with a smile, “so…when do you want us?”
“Let me text Copia, tell him to come down here and I’ll let you bend me over a desk right here and now.”
The ghoulettes erupt in laughter.
“Oh no, angel, we’re going to do this right. We want you in a proper bed where we can take our time with you, yeah?”
“Hmm, if you insist,” you say with a pout, cocking your head to the side. “I’ll talk to him and see what works best. Soon.”
Cirrus bends down and drags the tip of her tongue along your lower lip, making you whimper. She steps back, allowing Cumulus to step in and run her lips along your jawline before kissing you softly.
“Can’t wait to give the Cardinal a show,” she breathes. “See you around, angel.”
“Mmhmm,” you confirm, and as soon as they came in, they’re gone. You sigh heavily.
Your conversation with your lover tonight should prove interesting. And you intend on showing him just how thankful you are.
—--
After the two of you converse on the matter - at great length until you’re both exhausted - you’re collapsed halfway on his chest as the two of you catch your breath. As you roll off him, you laugh.
“I gotta be honest, love, I’m a little bit surprised.”
“Hmm?” he says, angling himself to look at you. “What do you mean?”
“This whole thing with the ghoulettes. I never thought you would ever want to uh, share me. Especially considering I have caught you on multiple occasions chastising siblings and ghouls for giving me the once-over.”
“Eh, noticed that, did you?” Copia says, cheeks flushing, “Well, I don’t know. Part of me feels bad for scooping you up before you got a chance to…explore your desires. Especially with women so…” he finishes lamely.
“Uh-huh. Very kind of you. And certainly not because you have a filthy fantasy about watching me get destroyed by two beautiful, infernal women. Surely that has nothing to do with it.”
“Amore!” Copia objects, placing a hand to his heart, “My intentions are pure!”
“Oh, of course,” you smirk, rolling your eyes, “When the ghoulettes approached you, you definitely weren’t thinking about how pretty I’d look getting my titties sucked and pussy ate - my cheeks all flushed and sweaty as I moan wantonly, my eyes on you from the bed while they–”
“Enough!” Copia croaks, head falling back against the pillow. “Cazzo, are you trying to get me to cum in the sheets?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you snark, hand drifting down to cup the length of him. “Though I’m not sure I’ve had enough of you yet, Your Eminence.”
You shift the bedcovers, laying a line of fervent kisses down his chest.
“Again, amore?”
You place several wet kisses to his belly, grinning up at him.
“Don’t say that as if you’re not enjoying every second of this. We spent almost a whole year in each other’s presence without fucking each other’s brains out. That’s a lot of time to make up for, beloved.”
He chuckles, threading his fingers through your hair as you lick a stripe up his cock.
“You’re insatiable, diavoletta mia.”
“That’s what the ghoulettes said that you said about me. As if you didn’t keep me locked in your bedroom for almost three days after the first time we made love.”
“Mmm let’s do that aga–ah!”
You’ve had enough chatter, and show him so by slipping the length of him into your eager mouth. He’s silent for only a moment, hips flexing against you, before he begins babbling praise.
“Perfetta ragazza,” he groans as your head bobs to take him deeper, “you’re too–hnngh–good to this old man. Always knew that–ah–mouth of yours would look good like this. And that tongue, Sathanas…”
You chuckle around him, sliding off just enough to suckle the swollen head, making him moan and fist your hair. He ruts jerkily against you so you hold him down, thumbs caressing his hip bones as your tongue traces up his length.
“You’re right, you know,” he pants, “This–ah–thing with the ghoulettes? S-somewhat selfish reasons. Every time I see you with them I-I picture you in this bed, p-pleasuring each other. I trust them, trust that they will not–ah–overstep–fuck, amore!”
You’ve taken him back as far as you can and swallowed around him, hand gently massaging his balls. His breath comes in sharp whines as he fights to not thrust dumbly into you, chasing his pleasure. He’s close, you can tell by the broken way he spouts his praise, so you double down and hollow your cheeks.
“Cazzo, cazzo, caz–oh dolcezza, j-just like that. A-almost there, fuck baby.”
You pull off him just enough to suck on the head and, resting it on your tongue, your hand rockets up and down the wet length of him. He lifts his head up and looks into your half-lidded eyes and with a groan his cock spasms against your tongue, spurting his seed into your open and eager mouth.
“That’s it, amore, take it,” he sighs, rutting his hips against your mouth, “Fuck, you look beautiful like this.”
Your lips wrap around his softening cock for a moment, sucking any remnants off of him before pulling off with a pop and making a big show of swallowing and sitting back on your haunches. Copia lets out a tired laugh but he’s got a glint in his eye as his gaze roves your naked form.
“Get up here,” he growls, crooking a finger at you. Slowly, you crawl along his body until your breasts are flush against his chest hair and you can feel his breath against your lips.
“No,” he says patiently, raising a finger to tap on his mustache, “here.”
“Again, amore?” you ask, mocking his earlier words.
“Shall I tie you up and hold you down to have my meal instead?” his hands grip at the meat of your ass, urging you upwards. “Come. Here. Now.”
Oh, how you love when the bossy Cardinal comes out.
__
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You’re naked and bent over one of the drawers you’ve hijacked from Copia, rifling through various pieces of lace and silk. The man in question is leaning against the doorway to his bedroom, arms crossed as he observes you.
“What’s the fuss, amore?”
“The fuss–” you say, standing up and putting your hands on your hips, “--is I cannot figure out what I’m going to wear for this…rendezvous.”
“Eh, traditionally I think it’s done in the nude.”
You glare at him and brandish a pale pink mesh thong in his direction.
“You know what I mean, I have to make a…a good impression. Sexy. I can’t just answer the door with my tits and coochie out like ‘hello welcome to the filth den’. I mean, come on, I agonized over what to wear when I went to seduce you too.”
“Did you?” he asks, eyebrows raised as he ambles over to you, “Ah, now that was memorable. Seeing you sitting in my chair in that pretty little virginal cream silk slip, waiting for me. Ready for me. Mmm cara, so eager–”
Abruptly he pulls you backwards against his chest, fingers sliding down your belly before teasing at the heat of you.
“Copia, my love, as much as I appreciate where this is going,” you murmur, “they’re going to be here in twenty minutes and respectfully, I’m not giving them sloppy seconds.”
“Ugh, fine,” he growls, relinquishing his grip on you. “What about that eh, dark blue silk piece you have? With the lace along the neckline? It looks so pretty with your hair.”
Huh. There’s a thought.
You bend over to do some more digging - ignoring the way Copia is insistently grinding against your ass - and locate it with a triumphant noise. You turn in his grip and kiss him firmly.
“My love, this was inspired, I–” there’s something familiar nudging against you and you look up at him, “Don’t get excited so soon my love, I’d hate for you to uh - finish before anything even begins.”
“Ah dolcezza, I might be in my fifties but have I not proven to have the stamina of Zeus himself?”
“Zeus, huh?” you say, giving him a look, “I certainly hope you don’t have his sense of fidelity, too.”
He looks affronted. It’s cute.
“Amore, you question my faithfulness? You question my devotion? I would never touch another. You, on the other hand. Oh, you were just waiting for this opportunity, weren’t you?”
He’s got an evil little grin on his face and you know he’s trying to get a rise out of you but your lips dip down into a frown and your heart sinks.
“Copia, you know I would never…maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you sigh deeply, biting your lip as tears well in your eyes.
“Oh amore mio,” he says softly, cupping your cheeks in his hands, “I was only teasing! If you are not comfortable with this, say the word and I will end it immediatamente. Truly though, it’s okay, huh? People do eh, exploring all the time while still maintaining loyalty to a partner. And I trust both them and you. My desires are inconsequential - but allow me to give you this gift, sì?”
You nod slowly.
“I love you,” you murmur, reaching up to take his hands in yours, “so much. So much it scares me sometimes, you know? I would never, ever want to do anything that would hurt you.”
He kisses each of your hands.
“And I love you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me but if you have any uncertainty, know that I am A-OK with this. Prometto. Nothing will ever come between us but Sathanas you are going to look so lovely spread out beneath them. On top of them. Sideways, even.”
You sniffle and laugh.
“Hmm,” your eyes glaze over for a moment, “what do you think they’re going to do to me, Cope?”
“Anything. Everything. Kiss and lick and suck and fuck…they’re going to take you apart, dolcezza.”
You shiver.
“Getting me all worked up, Cardinal,” you breathe, the tip of your tongue sliding out to wet your lips.
“I would be a poor host if I did not, eh, ready the party favor, hmm?”
Stepping back with a smile, you slide the midnight blue slip over your head and look in the mirror to loosen your hair from its messy bun.
“Perfetta,” Copia whispers, watching you adjust strands so they fall just right, “they will not be able to resist you.”
“And I will not offer any resistance,” you say quietly, turning away from the mirror to face your beloved. You smooth your hands down the front of his black suit and smile.
“I can do this,” you murmur, those familiar butterflies back in your stomach.
“Only if you want to but yes, I believe you can,” he smiles, fussing at your hair. Abruptly, you grab him by the back of the head and slot your lips against his in an aggressive kiss that slowly turns more lazy and soft. You feel a throb from between your thighs as he whimpers when you suck on his tongue and slowly pull away.
“Good luck tonight,” you purr, “don’t give up the game too quickly, hmm?”
He laughs.
“I had plenty of solo practice drawing things out before we got together, thank you very much.”
“Oh yeah?” you say, cocking your head, “Surely you weren’t thinking of me any of those times…”
“Surely not,” he shakes his head with a smile, “Surely there was another curator who liked to smile at me so prettily and shake her ass so tantalizingly whenever she walked in front of me in tight little skirts. That curator was always so kind to this lecherous old Cardinal. Mmm she was so sweet and soft and–eh, what were we talking about?”
“How you used to shamelessly jack off after staring at my ass?”
“No, no, that was the other curator–”
You roll your eyes and reach your hand down to cup his bulge, making him whine and buck into your touch.
“Easy, dolcezza, easy…I am in a fragile state.”
“‘Fragile state’ my ass,” you grin, “I’ve seen you roll off of me and not ten minutes later hop back on like I’m a pony at a state fair.”
“Ah, not entirely accurate,” he says, lifting a pedantic finger, “you are slightly nicer looking than a pony.”
You slap his balls sharply, causing him to double over with a yelp.
“Just for that, I’m definitely going to leave you for a ghoulette now. Maybe a ghoul too. Who knows?”
“Amore!” he wheeze-laughs, comically cupping himself, “be sweet to me, huh? I might not survive tonight after watching what they do with you…”
“Povera mia,” you croon, “to be fair, I might not survive, myself. I–”
Three knocks sound at the door to Copia’s quarters and you exhale heavily.
“Do you want me to–”
“Yeah,” you nod, walking over to the bed and lowering yourself to sit on the end, facing the doorway. Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch your beloved amble over to the door and open it, smiling when you hear his familiar odd little noises as he stands aside and gestures for your guests to come in. When the ghoulettes step through the threshold your breath catches in your throat. It’s not exactly that you’d forgotten how beautiful they both are but Sathanas it continuously takes you by surprise. They’re both wearing casual clothing - Cirrus in a large t-shirt and basketball shorts and Cumulus in a floral robe - and an anxious laugh bleats out of you before you can smother it. Cumulus is preoccupied with saying something to Copia but Cirrus hears it and gives you a sly grin and a cocked brow. When Copia extends his arm to gesture towards you, your heart plummets into your stomach.
“He–” your voice comes out thick and croaky, “hey, you two. P-please, come in.”
Cumulus favors you with a soft, reassuring smile as she comes to sit next to you. Cirrus plops down on the other side, a hand pushing into the plush red duvet.
“Nice place,” she says, looking around the paneled room, “really elegant.”
“Not my place,” you admit sheepishly, “this is all him.” You point to Copia, who is busy settling into the high backed chair in the corner of the room. He smiles.
“Don’t let her fool you, her room is just as nice. Lots of blues. You’d like it, Cumulus.”
The aforementioned ghoulette laughs quietly, and when she reaches up a hand to brush your hair off your shoulder you want to kick yourself for the way you jump.
“Nervous, angel?” Cirrus asks, flopping backwards onto the bed and letting her fingers dance at the small of your back. You laugh, too loud.
“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m really fucking nervous.”
“What part are you nervous about, sweetheart?” Cumulus asks, shifting her body to face you.
“Uh…everything? The fact that I’ve never been with anyone but Copia, the fact that I’m committing physical infidelity, the fact that you two are so goddamn beautiful, the fact that the man I love is going to be watching…take your pick.”
“Amore, if my presence is causing you any grief I would be happy to le–”
“No,” you say quickly, and you hate the panic in your voice, “No. Please, I need you here. You know how I am, it’s the anxiety. I want to do this for you.”
“For yourself too, I hope,” Cirrus comments from her spot behind you, “unless we’ve been misreading the vibes…?”
“No. Not at all. The vibes are…absolutely there. Incredibly there, in fact. I-I want this,” you look to Cumulus, “I want you. Both.”
“Atta girl,” Cirrus purrs and you don’t even have to look at her to know she’s got a filthy grin curling her lips, “come on, angel. We’ll put on a good show for the Cardinal.”
You look over at Copia, the rapid rise and fall of his chest from the promises of what lie ahead making you ache. Cirrus stands, taking off her shirt in a smooth motion and tossing it to the floor.
“C’mon,” she says, shimmying her shorts and underwear off and climbing onto the bed, “get over here.”
Cumulus snorts as she gets up and you turn, crawling towards Cirrus who is resting against the pillows. When you settle in next to her you finally get a good look at her - all long legs and rounded hips and dusky nipples. You know you’re breathing too loud and then out of the corner of your eye you see Cumulus drop her robe. Cirrus’ chuckle at the whine that comes out of you fans your hair, which she idly twirls between her fingers.
“Perfect, isn’t she?” she asks, looking over at the other ghoulette. You nod. Perfect is an understatement. A rounded belly, large, lush breasts and generous thighs between which are nestled a thatch of white curls. Her tail waves lazily behind her as she uses her hands to trace the path of your gaze. She approaches the other side of the bed and slides in behind you.
“This is pretty,” Cumulus comments, fingers brushing the hem of your blue slip, “keep it on for a little longer, hmm? I like the way it looks on you.”
You nod dumbly and shift to lie on your back. When you do, you catch a glimpse of Copia in the corner. His hand rests in his lap, fingers twitching towards his bulge but he doesn’t touch himself. Not yet. His eyes gleam at you. You’ve got your hands folded on your belly trying desperately not to gawk at either of the beautiful, nude women you’re sandwiched in between.
“Can we touch you?” Cirrus murmurs, ghosting a hand over you.
“Please. Please.”
She smiles and when she lowers her hand to brush against your own you let out a deep exhale. All she’s doing is letting her fingertips glide along the backs of your hands, but it makes you dizzy. When Cumulus reaches down to brush along your thigh, your breath hitches in your throat.
“So sensitive,” Cumulus breathes, dragging her fingers up and over your hip to cradle your belly. You had almost forgotten how the two of them sport a cooling touch - something that comes rocketing back when you feel the almost painful tautness of your nipples. Judging from the low noise that comes out of Cirrus, she’s noticed it too.
“Mmm, pretty little thing,” she purrs, reaching a hand to cup your breast and thumb your nipple through the fabric, “Already so excited for us, ‘Lus.”
“Sure is,” Cumulus agrees, her lips tracing the shell of your ear, “Tell us what you want, angel.”
“K-kiss me. Please.”
“Begs pretty, too,” Cirrus chuckles, “Can’t wait to hear more of that later when I’m making you see stars. Go on, ‘Lus. You’re the one who couldn’t stop talking about her lips.”
Your head turns slightly to face the shorter ghoulette, stomach swooping when she leans in and blows against your lips. You shiver comically and with a smile she reaches a hand up to cup your cheek.
“Ready?” she asks, so softly only you can hear. You nod. When she leans in to capture your lips with hers, you feel as if a dam has broken inside you. All your previous hesitation is gone as you bury your fingers into her curls and pull her towards you, tongue dancing with hers. She’s just as decadent about it as you remember from that day in the archives, soft and yielding as you whimper into each other’s mouths. You’re vaguely aware of Cirrus breathing a curse next to you as Cumulus drapes her body halfway onto yours, hands kneading flesh through fabric. And speaking of fabric–
“This has to come off. Now.” Cumulus groans while pulling away for breath. She’s got one hand gripping the hem of your slip and eagerly shimmying it off your body, pausing to let you lift your hips and sit up to expedite its removal. When the offending garment is finally off, Cumulus skillfully tosses it over to Copia, who catches it with a gasp. You see him press the silk to his cheek, savoring the remnants of warmth from your body and the sight makes you feral.
“Well, well, well, look at you,” Cirrus breathes with a small laugh, “just as soft and lovely as we always knew you would be, right ‘Lus?”
You don’t wait to hear Cumulus’ answer before lunging upwards and slotting your lips against Cirrus’. The taller ghoulette is shocked for only a moment before gripping your thigh and hitching it up on her hip. Where Cumulus’ kiss felt like a dance, Cirrus’ feels like a domination and one you are more than happy to yield to. Teeth chase tongues and when her claws bite into the meat of your waist, you whine into her mouth. When she pulls away you pursue her but she pushes you down into the mattress.
“The Cardinal was right about you,” she grins, “Filthy little thing.”
“If you’re this eager for him, I understand him keeping you from the ghouls,” Cumulus murmurs, “Lucky he likes us best. Shame for the boys, but we’re perfectly fine keeping you all to ourselves.”
“Poor Aether,” Cirrus laughs, “wants you so bad and can’t have you. We promise we won’t be mean and tell him anything about tonight. Much.”
Your head is spinning with arousal, the thought of the ghoulettes tormenting the strong ghoul with sordid details about bedding you causing your clit to throb. Before you can linger on it any further, Cumulus drags her tongue over your clavicle, making you shiver. As if coordinated, both ghoulettes slide down your body until their breath ghosts over your nipples. Your cheeks are hot as Cirrus flicks the tip of her tongue out to graze it. Teasingly she drags the muscle around your areola, avoiding where you want her most and making you whimper pathetically.
“Don’t be cruel, Cir,” Cumulus chastises, placing soft, sucking kisses into the meat of your breast.
“Wanna hear how pretty she begs for me,” she says, smoothing a hand over your belly, “Come on angel, tell me what you want.”
“Suck my tits,” you eke out and Cirrus laughs.
“Oh, the Cardinal’s delicate flower knows how to be direct. I like that,” she pulls back slightly and turns her head to address Copia, “She always this good for you?”
“Better,” you hear Copia rasp and another throb thrums from between your legs.
“Well,” she says, turning her attention back to your breast, “good girls always get what they ask for, right ‘Lus?”
“Then quit talking and fucking give it to me already,” you grit out. Cumulus lets out a delighted noise and Cirrus’ claws bite into your flesh before she drags the flat of her tongue over your hardened nipple. When she finally wraps her lips around the bud and sucks, your hand flies to the back of her head. She’s vicious with her attentions, nipping with sharp canines - Cumulus on the other hand returns to sucking bruises into your other breast, her hand drifting further south. When she firmly cups your mound in her palm a sigh escapes you.
“So good,” you murmur, stroking Cirrus’ dark hair. The tall ghoulette pulls off you with a pop and gives you a grin. Gently, you urge Cumulus back up to face you so you can slide your lips against hers, hand kneading her breast.
“She likes that,” Cirrus breathes, “Loves having her tits played with.”
You moan into Cumulus’ mouth before pulling back for breath. With a firm shove you push the shorter ghoulette flat on her back, dragging your tongue down her sternum. As soon as your lips make contact with her nipple she lets out a whine that goes straight to your cunt. You lap eagerly, rolling her other bud between your fingers as Cirrus settles in behind you to place wet kisses on your shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye you see Copia with his cock in his gloved hand, panting as he stares at you. You’re filled with affection and, with an immense desire to put on a good show for him, you sit up and swing your leg over Cumulus to straddle her. Cirrus falls on her back, clapping as you lower your mouth to sloppily kiss Cumulus.
“Mmm, initiative,” Cirrus purrs, sitting up and delivering a sharp, pleasurable slap to your ass that jolts you forward, “we like that. Keep going, girls. I’ll be back.”
You pull away and grasp for Cirrus, who slides off the bed and reaches to a bag you hadn’t seen either of them come in with. Before you can see what she pulls out, Cumulus grabs the back of your head and pulls you down to where she can drag her teeth along your throat. Her claws scrape at your scalp and you delightedly let her tug you where she wants you. Something about the way her belly presses against yours makes you flush from head to toe. You feel…decadent. Hedonistic. It’s intoxicating and you want nothing more than to show the ghoulette beneath you exactly how good she’s making you feel.
“I know that look,” Cirrus says with a grin, “go on, angel. Make her sing for you.”
I’m going to make you sing, bellezza.
Instantly, you’re taken back to your first night with Copia and you let out a breathy laugh before looking down at Cumulus, who gazes up at you with pupils blown.
“I’ve never done this before,” you murmur and she smiles.
“You’re more familiar with the terrain than you realize. I’ll tell you what feels good, okay?”
You nod and slowly begin to maneuver yourself down her body, kissing and licking every inch of skin available to you. When you settle between her spread thighs and place a kiss to her mound, she lets out a soft sigh. Delicately, you use your thumbs to spread her open and immediately begin salivating when you see how deliciously wet she is. She twitches when your heavy exhale ghosts over her cunt.
“Go on, pretty girl,” you hear Cirrus say encouragingly from behind you, her hands smoothing over your hips. “I’ve got something real special for you.”
As your lips make contact with Cumulus’ slick folds you gasp. Behind you, Cirrus drags the head of what you assume is a silicone cock through your own folds, causing you to arch your back. When you pull away to look back at her she chides you.
“Keep your eyes on the prize, angel. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
Well. You don’t need telling twice.
With as much fervor as you kissed her, you slide your lips and tongue over her folds, delighting in the way her hand flies to your hair. She’s right, of course, you’re familiar with the general terrain and when the tip of your tongue grazes her swollen clit, she gasps your name. From behind you, you feel the head of the cock drag through your folds again and gently, Cirrus eases the thick tip inside you. You whine into Cumulus’ cunt, hungry for more, but Cirrus holds your hips steady to keep you from bucking backwards.
“Sweet–ah–sweet Aether…used his quintessence on this strap, you know that? Makes it feel like it’s actually a part of me. Poor ghoul had n-no idea who it was going to be used on. Keep going, angel. Want to see you t-take her apart.”
Panting and desperate for her to fill you up, you lower your mouth again to lap up Cumulus’ slick. When your tongue eases inside her she lets out a loud, long moan.
“Good girl,” Cirrus breathes, “g-good–fuck.”
Fuck is right. With agonizing slowness she pushes the strap in and your jaw hangs open at the stretch. Copia is nothing to sneeze at, and he’s thick too, but this you feel in your guts. Your arms wobble as they struggle to hold you up and when Cirrus bottoms out with a groan you let out a pathetic whimper.
“H-how does she feel, Cir?”
You can hear Cirrus panting roughly behind you, hands smoothing over your ass.
“Unholy fucking hell, ‘Lus, hot and wet and t-tight, fuck. I–”
You squeeze around her as hard as you can and Cirrus cuts off with a sharp gasp and a broken moan. When you crane your head to look at her over your shoulder, you give her a grin and she lets out a breathy laugh.
“Oh Cardinal, she’s wicked.”
You hear Copia let out a low chuckle from behind you and it makes your cunt spasm around Cirrus.
“Finish your task, angel,” she coos and you glance up at Cumulus who looks down at you and wets her lips. Feeling deliciously full of both Cirrus’ cock and renewed fervor, you lower your head and slowly drag your tongue though her folds.
“That’s it,” Cirrus murmurs, slowly pulling out of you then pushing back in, “c’mon baby, show her how much you like her.”
So you do.
You’ve got your hands wrapped around Cumulus’ generous thighs, fingers digging hard enough to bruise as you alternate between fucking her with your tongue and circling her clit. Cirrus’ thrusts are deep and forceful, pumping in and out of you while streams of filth slide out of her mouth.
“That’s it, honey,” Cumulus whimpers from above you, burying her fingers in your hair and bucking her hips against your mouth, “so good for me, right there, right–fuck!”
Her praise ceases as you wrap your lips around her clit and suck. Cirrus moans and her pace quickens, fucking into you with less and less abandon. From behind you you hear a strangled amore mio and you know that Copia is close. The visual of his gloved hand wetly sliding along his cock, the taste of Cumulus beneath you, and the mounting pressure of Cirrus’ cock inside you make you feel like you’re going insane. Your moans are muffled, your mouth thoroughly occupied with suckling at Cumulus’ swollen clit while she cries out above you.
“Please, please, please,” she whines, “so close, so fucking close honey, don’t stop!”
You double down and take a page from Copia’s playbook, taking a finger and teasing at her entrance. Slowly, you sink it in knuckle deep and crook it searching for that sweet spot. When she screams your name you know you’ve found it, delighting in the way her cunt clenches around you. When she shatters, she pulls your hair hard enough to hurt but you don’t care, not with the way she whimpers your name like a prayer. The sounds she makes only inflame your passion further and you want nothing more than to wrench another orgasm out of her but suddenly she’s pushing you away. Taking the hint you pull back and suddenly Cirrus’ hand wraps around your shoulder.
“My turn,” she snarls, yanking you towards her and causing your back to arch. Her steady thrusts become sharper, harder, as she pounds into you and makes you see stars. Wrapping her hand around your throat she pulls your back flush against her.
“Look at him,” she growls, her breath hot in your ear, “Look at what you do to him.”
You turn your head to look at your beloved and a gasp hiccups out of your throat. He’s hunched in on himself, gazing up at you with his paints streaked down his face and his mouth hung open in a moan. His hand squeezes at his reddened, leaking cock, hips fucking upwards into his fist. Cirrus holds you in place, her hand seeking your sweat-slick breast to pinch sharply at your nipple as she fucks ruthlessly into you. You cry out, pushing backwards to meet her thrusts.
“I know you’re close, angel,” she groans, hips jackhammering into you hard enough you can’t catch your breath, “mmm fuck gonna–ah–gonna fill this pretty little cunt up. Gonna–ah-ah-fuck, baby!”
“Give it to me, Cir,” you whine, “just like that, j–Copia!”
You cum with a cry, watching as Copia spasms, painting his fist and chest with rope upon rope of his seed. Behind you Cirrus thrusts three times more before you feel her fill you up. You’re trembling in her tight grip as she empties herself into you, her forehead pressed against your shoulder. Copia is looking at you with nothing but pure adoration as you struggle to catch your breath. A silence settles among the four of you and you break Copia’s gaze to look down at Cumulus.
“Beautiful,” she breathes with a wide smile, “fucking beautiful. Look at you.”
You let out a short, delirious laugh and Cirrus mouths weakly at your shoulder.
“You were perfect,” she murmurs into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “just like we knew you’d be. Wasn’t she, Cardinal?”
Copia’s head is tipped back against the chair, eyes trained on the ceiling.
“She always is. Always. Amata mia.”
Gently, Cirrus extricates herself from you and the slide of the rigid silicone dildo as it exits your cunt makes you gasp. Weakly, you crawl forwards to Cumulus’ embrace and collapse next to her. Cirrus follows after a moment, slipping in beside you.
“So, how was it?”
Your gaze lingers on the canopy above you and you tip your head to lean against Cumulus.
“Wow,” you say with a dazed smile, “women, huh?”
Cirrus barks out a laugh. You feel your eyelids get heavy as you watch Copia get up and go into the bathroom.
“Don’t fall asleep on us,” Cumulus nudges you, “we’re not done with you yet.”
You whine but you can’t deny the delicious ache coming from between your thighs.
“I’m gonna need a snack, then,” you say with a sigh.
“Anything you want, bellezza,” Copia says, returning to the bedroom, half cleaned up, “I am your servant.”
Hmm. Now that’s a thought.
“Bring me some grapes, a bag of chips, and a pint of ice cream and I’ll show the girls how pretty I look when I bounce on your cock, huh?”
Cumulus lets out a soft gasp and Cirrus’ eyebrows shoot up.
“What flavor?” Copia rasps out, reaching down to adjust the bulge in his pants.
Mmm. You could get used to this.
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