Chapter 120: I don’t want it!

Erik pulled the chain. Meira was drawn up off the rug, smiling, her mouth still shining. He kissed her before she could finish the sentence. The kiss was not long, only enough to soften her, and then he laid her on her back.

The black lingerie was pulled aside. Her large breasts spilled free, nipples hard, a deep pink under the lamp. He bent and took one into his mouth, tongue slow, the other hand still holding the short chain, and Meira arched as if she were being drawn along by his breath.

"Master... ah..."

He did not answer in words. The head of his cock touched the place that had been wet since she knelt. Meira parted her thighs. He entered in one stroke, deep, full, until the Element Lord, a hundred and eighty-five tall, threw her head back, the five-colored collar flashed, and the sound that broke from her no longer belonged to the woman who had steadied a whole line on the battlefield. "Mm... deep... Master, too deep..."

Karin held the window frame. She saw Erik’s abdomen tighten with every thrust, the line of his shoulder strain as he held Meira’s waist, Meira’s breasts sway, heavy, the nipples still hard from his mouth. Each stroke had a wet sound, small, even, then faster, and Meira locked her legs behind him, not pushing away, only pulling in, as if afraid the rhythm would break.

Elowen knelt beside them, white dress creased, cat ears trembling. She looked at her mother, at the place where the two of them were joined, and then Erik reached and drew her in. He kissed her while he was still inside Meira.

One hand closed over Elowen’s breast through the dress and found the nipple that had been hard since the cleft, tugging lightly. Elowen bit her lip and still pressed her chest into his hand, the sound "ah... don’t... keep going..." escaping halfway and then catching.

"Switch," Meira breathed. Not jealousy. Only the wish that her daughter be received as well.

Erik withdrew. Meira shook at the emptiness, a small moan still on her mouth. He turned Elowen onto her front on the rug, pushed the white nightdress to her waist, and entered from behind a beat slower than he had with her mother, because Elowen made a small sound.

Then she pushed back. The white cat ears jerked. Erik held her waist, long strokes, deep, one hand still drawing Meira’s chain so she lay close, her large breasts against her daughter’s shoulder. "Erik... mm... I can take it..."

Karin felt another line of wetness, cold. The suit could not save her. Her nipples were hard enough that every breath hurt a little against the lining, but she did not put a hand down. If she did, Velyss would see. Velyss had already seen something else.

Her pink eyes did not leave the room. There was a very faint red on her cheeks. The pen still moved, and the writing had begun to slant: positions changing continuously; first subject on her back, taking him to the base; second subject face-down and still willing; the man shows no sign of fatigue.

"You’re still writing?" Karin whispered.

"Necessary." Velyss’s voice was even, while her own breasts had tightened in the suit, two hard points showing under the black cloth, and she did not adjust it.

Inside, Erik drew them both up. Meira sat on his lap, face to face, and took him in herself. Elowen sat behind him, breasts against his back, kissing along his shoulder, one hand slipping down to where her mother was joined to him as if she meant to keep the rhythm. Meira rose and fell.

Her large breasts pressed to Erik’s chest, nipples brushing his skin. He took one into his mouth again, and his other hand reached back to hold Elowen’s breast. The three of them became one weight on the chair. The chair complained. Mother and daughter moaned into each other, one sound high, one caught in the throat, until it was no longer clear who had called his name first.

Karin closed her thighs until she shook. "He’s holding both of them down."

Velyss wrote, very small: extraordinary combat capacity; direct engagement required for further information. Karin looked at the line. Inside her head it was loud enough. Direct engagement. If you want it, say so. She did not say it. Velyss glanced at her, added a very serious period, and looked back into the room. Her glove tightened on the pen. The crescent under her wrist showed because she was writing too hard.

Meira came first. Her body clenched, her mouth open, no proper word left, only "ah... ah... Master...", and Erik did not stop. He held her waist, thrust through it, laid her to one side, and drew Elowen up into her place.

Elowen cried from pleasure, not from pain. The white dress stuck to her thighs. Her cat ears sat crooked. She held his shoulders, said his name once, and bit his shoulder so she would not cry out louder.

The rug shifted.

The yellow lamp trembled with the chair. Karin saw the sweat on Erik’s neck, the muscle running down his abdomen with every stroke, his cock drawing out shining and going back in, and she bit her lip until it hurt. Her wetness had reached the edge of the suit.

Her nipples were hard, sensitive enough that the hill wind made her shake, as if the gap in the curtain itself were breathing with the rhythm in the room.

Velyss drew a breath. The notebook nearly slipped. She caught it and did not look at Karin.

He changed once more, before Laviana came in. Meira was drawn to sit over him, her back to his chest, legs open. Elowen knelt between her mother’s thighs, kissed down from the belly, and looked up to take the head that showed beneath where Meira was receiving him. One above, one below. Meira’s breasts shook in front of Elowen.

Elowen’s hands closed, clumsy, but enough to make her mother’s nipples harder. Erik held Meira’s waist and thrust up from beneath, and every stroke pushed that head against Elowen’s tongue. Elowen moaned around him, wet, caught, and did not let go.

Karin saw all of it through the gap. Sweat running down his abdomen. A broad hand nearly lost on Meira’s narrow waist. Elowen red to the ears and still not releasing him. Karin’s wetness ran in a warm line inside the suit. Her nipples ached. She bit her knuckle so she would not make a sound again. Velyss stepped closer, not on purpose.

Her shoulder touched Karin’s. Both of them went stiff. Neither moved away. Velyss’s pen stopped for a beat, then wrote, smaller now: both subjects serving at once; one taking him inside; one using her mouth; the man can still see both.

A while later Meira lay spent on the rug, smiling tiredly, dog ears crooked. Elowen lay beside her, barely able to breathe, still holding Erik’s hand as if she did not yet want to let go. Erik sat up. His cock was still hard. His breath had not yet gone fully uneven.

"Rest."

Meira made a small sound and could not argue. Elowen flushed, nodded, eyes half shut.

Erik stood. The shirt was no longer of any use. He still did not look tired. His constitution had risen too far. One round with the two of them had only made him hot. It had not made him stop, and the inner door opened at exactly that moment.

Laviana came in, long red hair, red eyes, a thin wine-colored dress in place of armor. She looked at the rug, at Meira, at Elowen, then at Erik. Her tongue came out, nearly three times the length of an ordinary tongue, the tip faintly pointed, and licked slowly across her lower lip.

"Leave the rest to me."

She lay back on the sofa, head tipped over the arm, throat drawn into a curve, mouth open. From where Erik stood, the mouth was soft, the snake tongue waiting, and her large breasts were lifted by the dress until both nipples had stiffened, printed clearly through the wine-colored cloth. Karin covered her mouth. Velyss covered hers. The notebook nearly fell.

Erik stepped forward. He did not ask. Laviana had already placed herself there. He supported the back of her neck and guided his cock into the open mouth. The head went deep. Laviana’s throat rose in a clear line under pale skin.

The snake tongue was not blocked. It wound around the shaft, tightened, licked, and drew him deeper each time he meant to pull back. Laviana moaned in her throat. The sound was wet, caught, pleased enough that Karin’s knees went soft.

Both of Erik’s hands settled on those large breasts, squeezed, thumbs drawing over nipples already hard, and then his hips began to stroke. Each thrust made the rise in her throat appear and vanish. Spit ran back over her cheek because she lay inverted.

The snake tongue tightened when he withdrew, as if unwilling to release him. Laviana’s breasts shook in his hands, full, heavy, the nipples harder under his fingers, and the mm... mm... trapped in her throat became one trembling line.

Velyss pressed her lips together. The pen shook and still wrote: third position; airway occupied; subject opens her mouth of her own will; nipples erect; closer study required. Karin no longer had time to curse the line.

Her eyes were fixed on Erik, on the abdomen tightening as he thrust, on the hands closing over Laviana’s breasts, on the throat that swelled and swallowed. In her head a sentence was still ready. Cruel. It did not save the wet place between her thighs, and it did not soften her nipples.

Erik made a low sound, drove in to the base, and spent himself in Laviana’s mouth. Her throat worked through each pulse. A little spilled at the corner of her mouth. The snake tongue licked it clean, wound again, and asked for more. Erik did not withdraw for long.

He drew her up, set her on his lap, pushed the wine-colored dress aside, and entered from below. Laviana held his neck. The long tongue slipped into his mouth at once, wound, took, and moaned with every roll of her hips. "Master... more... don’t stop..." The sofa shifted on the wooden floor.

On the rug, Meira’s eyes opened a little. She smiled weakly. The dog ears still twitched. Elowen hid her face in a cushion, white cat ears jumping with each knock of the chair. Karin whispered, her voice no longer sure. "Three of them. He finished all three."

Velyss nodded, very small. "Truly cruel."

Karin looked at her. Velyss’s cheeks were redder than when she had written the first line. Her breasts rose in the suit. The two hard points could no longer be hidden. Her voice was still even, only smaller.

"I want to feel that cruelty clearly, too."

Karin’s mouth opened. No sound came. She meant to say you are mad. She meant to say we came here to kill him. She meant to say she was not wet, her nipples were not hard, her thighs were not shaking. None of it left her mouth.

"I don’t want it."

Velyss closed the notebook. "Mm."

"I mean it."

"Mm."

Karin ground her teeth. Her red eyes still did not leave the gap. The black horns dipped because she bowed her head, then lifted at once, as if she were afraid of missing the next stroke. The hill wind found the wet place. She shook, and stayed. Velyss stood beside her, pen clipped in the book, glove tight, the crescent hidden again under the glove. She did not leave the window either. Her breath was no longer as even as it had been when she first covered Karin’s mouth.

Karin swallowed. In her head she still tried to call it torment, but outside the window her body did not listen, and neither did Velyss. The palm of her glove was damp with sweat. The notebook was warm from being held too hard, and the place between her thighs had not been dry since Erik let two pairs of breasts close around him.

Neither of them admitted it. Inside, Laviana called Master in a broken voice. Erik had not stopped. The gap in the curtain stayed bright, like a narrow smile, and kept the two of them there for one more beat.