Chapter 277: Double or Nothing

I speed up, driving into her harder, faster, no more rhythm, just pure momentum, my tail squeezing tight around her thigh, my hands gripping her hips to keep her steady while I chase both of us toward the edge at the same time.

She comes apart with a scream that echoes off the walls, her whole body shaking, her pussy and ass both clamping down so hard around me that I nearly lose it right there, and I have to grit my teeth and hold on for a few more seconds just to ride it out with her, feeling every aftershock ripple through her from the inside.

"Fuck," I groan, and that’s the only warning I get before I follow her over, both cocks pulsing at once, filling her up until there’s nowhere left for it to go, some of it already spilling out around the edges from how much there is.

Lyra just collapses forward into the sheets the second I ease off, boneless, chest heaving, silver hair sticking to her sweat-damp skin, and the look on her face is pure wrecked satisfaction, eyes half-lidded and glassy.

"Holy shit," she mumbles into the pillow, voice muffled.

"Yeah," I agree, easing both cocks out slowly, feeling her twitch and clench weakly at the sensation, "holy shit is right."

I glance over at Cherry, still restrained, still soaked, watching with wide eyes and her whole body trembling like she’s about to come apart just from what she saw.

"You good?" I ask her, and I mean it, because even mid-scene I’m not about to forget to check.

"I—yes," she stammers, "I just, please, can I—"

"Your turn," I tell her, and the smoke around her wrists loosens just enough to let her know it’s coming, but not enough to free her yet. "Patience."

She whines, high and needy, hips grinding against absolutely nothing, desperate for any kind of friction, and I take a second just to enjoy the sight of both of them like this, Lyra wrecked and glowing beside me, Cherry strung out and dripping just out of reach.

"You did so good," I tell Lyra, brushing her hair back from her face, and she leans into the touch like a cat, humming low in her throat.

"Mm," she mumbles, eyes barely open, "worth it."

I press a kiss to her shoulder, tasting salt and sweat and that familiar ozone-hot-pavement scent that’s basically imprinted on my brain at this point, and then I turn my full attention to Cherry, who’s practically vibrating with anticipation.

"Alright," I say, voice dropping low again as I shift my weight, moving toward her side of the bed, "let’s see what all that begging gets you."

But before I get to her, I look over at Lyra, still melted into the sheets, and an idea settles into my head that makes something low in my gut tighten with anticipation.

"Actually," I say, and Lyra cracks one eye open at the tone of my voice, "change of plans."

I move behind her, gathering up the loose rope still coiled near the headboard from earlier, and she watches me with a lazy sort of curiosity that sharpens fast when she realises what I’m doing.

"Matt," she says slowly, pushing up onto her elbows, "I just—"

"You just came so hard you forgot your own name for a second, yeah, I know," I tell her, looping the rope around her wrists and drawing them up over her head, tying them off to the headboard with enough give that she’s comfortable but not enough that she’s going anywhere. "Now you get to watch."

Her eyes flick to Cherry, still bound and dripping on the other side of the bed, and back to me, and I can see the exact moment she understands.

"You can’t touch yourself," I say, keeping my voice easy, casual, like I’m not about to ruin her in an entirely different way. "You just watch. Every second of it."

"That’s not fair," she mutters, but there’s no real heat in it, just a kind of helpless want creeping into her voice as her thighs press together on instinct.

"Life’s not fair," I say, and lean down to kiss her forehead, gentle, a total mismatch for what I’m about to do a few feet away. "You good with this?"

"Yes," she breathes, and there’s no hesitation in it at all, just pure hunger dressed up as surrender. "Yes, do it."

I straighten up and turn to Cherry, and the second our eyes meet, I can see exactly what she’s thinking, that greedy little glint sharpening the colour-shift in her irises into something predatory. Both my cocks are still hard, slick, twitching with every heartbeat, and I don’t bother hiding how much I want this, how much I’ve wanted it since she first climbed into my lap looking like she owned the place.

"Cherry," I say, releasing the smoke coils holding her wrists, "come here."

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She practically launches herself at me, wings fluttering, tail lashing behind her, and I catch her before she can knock me flat, guiding her down onto my coils where I’ve settled back, reclined, patient, letting her think for just a second that she’s the one in control here.

"Ride me," I tell her, voice low, and her whole body shudders at the words like I’ve flipped a switch somewhere deep inside her.

She positions herself over me, hands braced on my chest, hips hovering just above both cocks, and for a second she pauses there, savouring it, looking down at me with a smug little curl to her lips like she’s about to take exactly what she wants at exactly the pace she wants it.

That’s cute.

I grab her by the waist before she can lower herself an inch, fingers digging into that soft skin, and slam her down hard, both cocks driving into her at once, stretching her open in one brutal stroke that knocks the smug right off her face.

"OH FUCK," she screams, back arching, wings snapping open on instinct, and her whole body goes rigid for a second like she wasn’t ready for it, even though she absolutely was.

"Too much?" I ask, even though I already know the answer, even though her pussy is clamping down around both of us so hard I can feel her pulse through it.

"No, no, don’t stop, yes, yes, YES," she babbles, grinding down against me before I’ve even started moving, chasing the stretch like she can’t get enough of it, and her tail whips back behind her, curling low, and smacks against my balls with a sharp little slap that makes me groan through my teeth.

"You want it rough," I hiss, more statement than question, gripping her hips tighter, "then you’re gonna get it rough."

I start moving her, using my grip to drag her up and slam her back down, setting a pace way harder than anything gentle, and she screams again, nails digging into my chest hard enough to draw thin lines of blood that heal almost as fast as she opens them.

"Matt, Matt, fuck, right there," she gasps, head thrown back, horn stumps twitching, and her tail smacks against my balls again in a rhythm that’s got nothing to do with the one I’m setting with my hips, just pure instinct, pure desperate want translating into every part of her body at once.

Across the bed, Lyra’s breathing has gone ragged, her wrists pulling at the rope just enough to test it, not because she’s actually trying to get free but because her whole body needs somewhere to put all that tension, and I catch her eyes over Cherry’s shoulder.