Chapter 275: The Crown Stays On During Recovery

Cherry locked the door while Lyra took the medical tape out of my reach, which told me the evening was going to involve care whether I behaved myself or not. I settled on the sofa between them and tried to look like a patient worth the effort.

"Before either of you starts, I would like it recorded that the cannon was considerably less comfortable than this," I said. Cherry made a small hurt sound at the word cannon, so I stopped smiling and explained that I was home, safe and staying.

Lyra asked for the version without jokes. I gave her the short truth about the carrier, Bridget’s help and the burns, then let her tell me how frightening it was to receive cheerful messages that only mentioned danger after I had already survived it.

There wasn’t a clever answer that would make her wrong. I rested my head against her hand and said I was sorry, keeping the apology plain enough that she didn’t have to search through an insult to find it.

Cherry leaned against my other side and admitted she had kept putting aside things to show me. A customer had given her a ridiculous little crown, the lounge staff had changed their uniforms, and she had wanted me there for events that didn’t involve blood or business.

"Then show me the crown first, sweetheart, because I’d rather hear about your day than spend another minute explaining why strangers are terrible at keeping me alive," I told her. She fetched it from beside her chair, where she’d apparently kept it ready, and I felt like a bastard for making something that small wait so long.

The crown was pink, cheaply made and completely wrong for the expensive furniture around it. I wore it anyway while she told me the customer’s story, and Lyra took a picture on her own phone before I could negotiate my future dignity.

[System: Look at you, mate, dressed like the guest of honour at a hen’s night that lost its booking. I’d give a speech, but the bride’s got your bloody tail.]

She could put me in a matching sash if she kept laughing like that, so keep your grubby paws off this one. Cherry adjusted the little crown between my fins, then kissed my head while I carefully kept the rough edge of the dressing away from her cheek.

Lyra finished checking the scrape and said the wound needed time, not another brave explanation. I asked what she needed, and she looked at me long enough to make sure I wasn’t treating the question like a polite turn in somebody else’s conversation.

She wanted an evening without listening for the lift. "I wanted to ask you to stay without feeling like I stole you from something," Cherry said, with none of her usual teasing. I told them neither request was unreasonable, then made a point of settling more comfortably instead of looking towards the door.

We talked about the next trip before the evening became private. I wanted to follow the harbour freight lead alone, partly because the water suited my body and partly because I needed to find out what I chose when nobody else was beside me.

Lyra didn’t confuse alone with unreachable. She wanted my route, a sensible check-in and a message if the plan changed, while Cherry insisted I take food that wasn’t stolen from an enemy or handed over as thanks for a rescue.

"I’ll take all three, love, and I’ll complain about the healthy bits later when you’re here to tell me I deserved them," I said. Cherry tucked a container beside my travel bag as if feeding me had become a battle she intended to win.

I sent Bridget a message saying I had arrived and was spending the evening at home. She replied that her family were still being exhausting, wished the girls a good night and told me not to turn affection into another badly negotiated contract.

I showed Lyra and Cherry the message on Lyra’s phone after forwarding it, then put the conversation away. Nobody needed to compete for a place beside me, and I wasn’t going to make them prove that by discussing my next adventure all night.

When Lyra took my upper coils gently in her hands, I followed her towards the private room. Cherry stayed close enough for her wing to brush my fin, and I told them both I loved them before the door shut behind us.

When Lyra took my upper coils gently in her hands, I followed her towards the private room. Cherry stayed close enough for her wing to brush my fin, and I told them both I loved them before the door shut behind us.

The second the door clicked shut, I gave both of them a gentle push, and they went down onto the bed with a yelp, bouncing once on the mattress, tangled up in each other’s limbs for half a second before they sorted themselves out.

I hover over them, coils curling lazy circles in the air, and just look at the two of them for a second. Lyra’s hair spread out like silver water across the sheets. Cherry already flushed pink at the ears, tail flicking side to side like she can’t keep it still.

"I missed you two so damn much," I say, and I mean it, every word of it. "My loves. My girls."

Cherry’s eyes go glassy almost immediately, swelling up at the corners, and her horn stumps twitch like they always do when she’s too full of feeling to know what to do with it.

"Tell me what you want me to do, my Cheri," I say, low, dropping down closer so my smoke curls over both of them like a blanket.

She doesn’t even hesitate. "Fuck both of us."

Straight to the point. I love that about her. "Okay," I say, smooth, easy, like she just asked me to pass the salt. "But no touching each other."

Lyra’s the one who answers that, cheeks already going warm, eyes locked on mine with that focused, dilated stare she gets when she’s decided something and isn’t backing down from it. "I only want you, Matt."

"Good girls," I say, and something in my chest rumbles low with satisfaction, a sound that isn’t quite a growl and isn’t quite a purr.

I start with Lyra because she’s closest, dragging my tongue slowly up the back of her neck, tasting salt and warmth and that particular earthy sweetness that’s just her. She shivers under me, back arching, and I feel her breath catch somewhere near my collarbone.

While my mouth is busy with her, I send out a couple of smoke tendrils toward Cherry, thin ribbons of dark curling smoke that wrap around the hem of her dress and start peeling it away nice and slow. She makes a small, needy sound in the back of her throat the second the smoke brushes her skin, and I already know exactly where this is going because I know her, every inch of her, every single reaction catalogued in my head like some kind of pervert encyclopedia.

The tendrils find her nipples next, teasing in slow circles exactly the way she likes, and she arches up off the bed with a gasp that turns into a moan halfway through.

That’s when her tail decides to get involved. It whips back without her seeming to even notice, smacking straight into the slit along my underside where my cocks are hiding, and I yelp, actual yelp, higher pitched than I’d like to admit, my whole body flinching back on reflex.

"Wait a second, my girl," I say, voice cracking just slightly on the last word, and Cherry immediately looks mortified, hands flying up to her mouth.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean- maybe..."

"It’s fine," I say, shaking it off, though my tail curls protectively around that spot for a second like it’s got trust issues now. "Just gotta keep that thing on a leash for me, yeah?"

I use the tip of my tail to start working Lyra’s clothes off instead, sliding the fabric down slowly, deliberately, while my snout stays busy trailing kisses down her spine. She’s practically vibrating under me, hips already pushing back, grinding against the length of my body like she can’t help herself.

Cherry’s a different story. Her tail’s got a mind of its own tonight, twitching and lashing every few seconds like it’s picking up on how worked up she already is, so I send a few more tendrils out, this time wrapping around her wrists and pinning them gently above her head.

"Sorry, Cherry," I say, and I actually do feel a little bad about it, watching her eyes go wide for a second before that glassy hunger creeps back in. "I need you to be compliant for me tonight. Can’t have you knocking my bits off before we even get started."

She nods so fast it’s almost comical, horn stumps twitching, wings fluttering against the sheets.

"I’m going to make you feel so good tonight," I tell her, voice dropping even lower, rough at the edges. "So good. Me and my mini-mes are gonna fill you right up."

Her whole body shudders at that, a whine slipping out of her that’s somewhere between a moan and a sob, and her hips start rocking against nothing, desperate for any kind of friction.

Lyra’s the one who gets there first, though. I finish stripping her with my tail, the fabric sliding off and dropping somewhere onto the floor, and she’s bare underneath me now, skin catching the low light of the room like something carved out of dark wood. I drag my tongue lower, forked tip flicking out to taste her, and she lets out this soft broken moan that goes straight through me.

"Matt," she breathes, voice already wrecked. "Please."

"Patience, love," I murmur against her skin. "I’ve got two of you tonight. Gonna take my time."

She pushes her hips back against me anyway, grinding against the thick muscle of my lower body, and I let one of my cocks slide free from the slit, hot and heavy, sliding against her entrance without pushing in yet, just teasing, just letting her feel exactly what’s coming.

She whimpers, hips jerking back, trying to get more, and I chuckle low against her spine.

"Ask nicely," I tell her.

"Please, Master," she says immediately, no hesitation at all, turning her head just enough to catch my eye. "Please, I need you."

That’s all it takes. I push into her slowly, feeling her stretch around me, feeling the way her whole body goes tight and then melts at the same time, a long moan tearing out of her that echoes off the walls of the private room. She’s so warm, so tight, gripping me like she doesn’t ever want to let go, and I have to take a second, head pressed against the back of her neck, just breathing her in.