Chapter 350: Chaptet 350- Cruxius Needs to Sleep

The portal opened in the chamber.

He stepped through.

The violet-white oval closed behind him with a soft crackle, leaving him standing in the warm amber light of the stone room. His coat was unmarked. His boots were clean. Not a drop of blood on him, despite the massacre he had left behind in Vekar’s hall.

Four women looked up.

The thick mother was at the table, her enormous tits resting on the wood surface, her hands around a cup. The daughter sat beside her, her small body curled in the chair, her dark eyes still carrying the red from yesterday’s crying. Soha was on the bed, her pregnant belly propped against pillows, her dark nipples visible through her thin shift. The succubus stood by the window, her golden wings half-open, her enormous pale tits bare, her tail swaying.

He looked at them.

They looked at him.

The daughter moved first.

She was out of her chair and across the room before anyone else could react. Her small body crashed into his waist, her arms wrapping around him, her face pressing against his coat. She was trembling.

"You’re alive—" she gasped. Her voice was muffled against the fabric. "You’re—you came back—"

The mother was behind her.

She moved slower, her thick body swaying, but her enormous tits were already swinging with the urgency of her walk. She reached him and her hands came up, pressing against his chest, his shoulders, his arms—checking.

"Are you hurt?" she said. Her voice carried the maiden-pitched worry of a woman who had spent hours imagining the worst. Her dark eyes moved over his body, searching for wounds, for blood, for damage. Her thick fingers found his collar, his jaw, his ribs. "Are you—did he—"

"I’m fine."

He said it simply. Without drama. The flat statement of a man who had walked into a Zone Master’s hall and walked out without a scratch.

Soha waddled toward him.

Her pregnant belly led the way, the dome pressing against his side as she reached him. Her hand came up and rested on his arm. Her dark eyes studied his face with the calm, knowing gaze of a woman who had watched him do impossible things before.

"You smell like another woman," she said.

The succubus appeared beside him.

She pressed against his other side, her enormous pale tits flattening against his coat, her golden eyes scanning his face. Her tail wrapped around his waist. Her nose pressed against his neck.

"Not just one," the succubus said. Her voice was warm, carrying the amused edge of a demon who recognized the scent of pregnancy on a man’s coat. "Pregnant. Eight months. And terrified."

He looked at her.

"Later," he said.

She smiled.

The small, knowing, genuine smile.

The mother and daughter were still pressed against him, their hands still checking, still searching. The daughter’s small face was flushed against his coat, her arms tight around his waist. The mother’s enormous tits were pressed against his ribs, her hands on his shoulders.

"You all are so worried," he said.

He reached down. One hand on the daughter’s head, one on the mother’s shoulder. He squeezed both.

"We need to move," he said. "To the inner zone."

The mother stiffened.

The daughter looked up.

Soha’s hand tightened on his arm.

The succubus tilted her head.

"The inner zone," she said. Her voice had gone flat. Throne Bishop flat. The voice that carried rank and knowledge. "There is danger in the inner zone. The floors there are controlled by Zone Masters who make Vekar look like a child playing with ice cubes. The creatures, the dungeons, the pocket cells—"

"I am there," he said.

He looked at her.

"You don’t have to worry."

The succubus held his gaze for a long moment. Her golden eyes searched his face. Then her shoulders dropped. Her tail unwound from his waist and hung limp.

"Bath," she said.

The word landed on the room like a stone in still water.

"We all need a bath," she said. She looked at the mother, the daughter, Soha. She looked at him. "You smell like pregnant woman and blood. They smell like cum and trauma. Everyone gets in the water.

"

He looked at her.

"Fine," he said.

The bathroom was the same marble chamber.

White stone. Crystal fixtures. The massive tub carved from a single block, steaming, the water scented with lavender and soap. He entered first, his clothes scattered by Kinetic Control before he reached the water—the fabric vibrating apart in that low, perfect hum.

He stepped into the tub.

The hot water rose around his legs, his hips, his waist. He sat on the submerged stone bench at the edge, leaned his head back against the marble rim, and closed his eyes.

The water was perfect.

He exhaled.

Then they came.

The succubus entered first. She was already naked—she had been naked since he met her, essentially—and her enormous pale tits floated on the surface as she descended into the water, her golden wings folding tight against her back, her tail trailing behind her.

The mother came next.

She had removed her shift. Her enormous, dark-nippled tits swung heavy as she stepped into the water, her thick thighs parting around the marble steps, her hairy pussy visible through the clear water. She sank in with a gasp, the heat making her sore body relax.

The daughter followed. Her small body slipping into the water, her budding dark nipples stiffening from the temperature change, her hairy virgin pussy—a mess of dried blood and cum—dissolving into pink clouds around her.

Soha came last. Her pregnant belly a dome above the waterline as she waded in, her dark nipples tight, her hand cradling the swell of her stomach. She settled at the far end, leaning back, a small sigh escaping her.

They converged on him.

Not by arrangement. By instinct. The thick mother pressed against his left side, her enormous tits flattening against his arm, her soft belly against his hip. The daughter curled against his right, her small body fitting under his arm, her head on his shoulder. The succubus floated between his legs, her back against his chest, her enormous tits resting on his thighs. Soha settled beside the succubus, her pregnant belly pressing warm against his knee.

Soft. Warm. Pressing.

Their bodies against his. Their tits against his skin. The mother’s enormous, heavy, dark-nippled masses against his left arm. The daughter’s small, budding chest against his right. The succubus’s enormous, pale, elongated-nippled flesh on his thighs. Soha’s pregnant belly warm against his knee.

He closed his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he murmured.

"Of course," the succubus said from between his legs, her voice lazy, content. "What else would we be doing?"

He didn’t answer.

His breathing slowed. His body sank deeper into the water. The warmth, the lavender, the soft press of four women against his body—the combination was a weight he hadn’t expected. His muscles loosened. His head tilted back further.

He slept.

He woke to motion.

The rhythm registered before consciousness did. A slow, deliberate, up-and-down movement on his lap. His hips were being pressed against by something warm, wet, and tight.

The sensation was familiar—the grip of a cunt around his cock, the slide of walls against his shaft, the wet sound of flesh meeting water.