Chapter 474: Starburst **
"Three... inches more...?"
"No more!" Oathran spat. He moaned and continued pumping, once again trying not to acknowledge the way her cunt’s suction almost made him go berserk.
Cecilia turned her head, her breath still warm and uneven from her climax, and fixed her gaze on Eastiel. Her lips, swollen and glistening, curved into a smile as she reached for him.
"Eastie... your brother won’t give me more inches... you gimme..." she whined.
Eastiel’s hand tightened around his phone. The camera was still recording, the red dot blinking, the lens capturing every devastating detail as she leaned in.
She started at his tip. The head of his lion cock was round and red like a very big and plump cherry, the red gradienting down his shaft. His cock was the prettiest, the curve the most elegant, but the texture...
Cecilia’s tongue darted out and traced the small slit at his very tip, the tiny hole where a bead of pearly fluid was already leaking. She lapped at it gently, tasting him, and Eastiel’s whole body jerked.
"Ah—"
His abdominal muscles contracted violently, the defined ridges of his stomach rippling as he fought to stay still. Sweat had begun to gather in the hollow of his throat, trailing down his chest in slow, shining rivulets.
His lion tail, usually so expressive, had gone rigid behind him, the tufted tip twitching in erratic, uncontrolled spasms.
She moved lower. Her tongue found his frenulum, that small, taut band of skin just beneath the head, the most sensitive part of him. She pressed flat against it, dragged slow circles over it, and Eastiel moaned.
"A-ah—ah, Princess—"
It was broken, torn from somewhere deep in his chest. His phone-holding hand trembled so badly the footage jumped, but he couldn’t lower it. He couldn’t stop watching.
Watching her, her mouth on him, her tongue tracing patterns on his most vulnerable places, her eyes half-closed in concentration through the small screen that separated him from the very real reality of it.
"No more, Cecilia..." he breathed, wrecked. "Look at... look at what you’re doing to me... Don’t be greedy..."
The camera showed him everything. The way her lips wrapped around one of the small ridges, sucking gently. The way the spikey ring caught the light, glistening with her saliva and his arousal.
The way a vein pulsed visibly along the underside of his shaft, thick and soft purple and throbbing with every beat of his heart. His length twitched against her tongue, and another bead of fluid spilled from the tip, which she promptly licked away.
Cecilia opened her mouth wider. She began to take him deeper, her throat relaxing as she prepared to swallow him down—
"No." Eastiel’s hand shot out, his fingers tangling in her hair urgently. He pulled her back, his chest heaving, his eyes wild. "No, no, no—I’m going to—if you take me deeper I’m going to—"
The way his cock pulsed and leaked against her lips, it all told her exactly how close he was.
"I want to last," he managed, his voice cracking. "D-don’t be greedy..."
Cecilia pressed a soft kiss to his tip, right over the slit, and he shuddered. She frowned.
"Someone needs to give me... more inches..."
Beside her, Arkai had been silent.
Not from disinterest, far from it. His wolf ears were pinned forward, his eyes half-lidded and dark with hunger as he watched Cecilia’s mouth work on Eastiel.
But his hands had been busy elsewhere. He had shifted his position beside her chest.
His cock, the girthiest, with a prominent vein that wound along the underside, was pressed against the soft peak of her breast.
He nudged it forward. The tip buried itself into the plush tissue, creating a deep dimple in the pale mound, the contrast obscene.
Her skin was flushed from arousal, pink and warm, and the head of him looked almost angry against it. Dark with need, leaking in slow, steady pulses.
Arkai rubbed himself against her. Slow, deliberate circles. The leaking tip smeared precum across her breast in glistening trails, painting her skin until it shone under the dim city light.
He prodded at the peak, watching the way her softness yielded to his hardness, the way the dimple deepened and released with each press.
His jaw was clenched. His breathing was controlled, too controlled. The silence he maintained was heavier than any moan, a concentration so intense it filled the room like a held breath.
Sweat gathered at his temples, slid down the sharp line of his cheekbone, dripped onto her collarbone. His waist moved in a hypnotic, rolling rhythm, the muscles of his abdomen flexing and releasing with each thrust against her breast.
"My cock and your tits... My... This looks too—hot..."
He shifted his angle. His leaking tip found the very peak of her nipple, swollen, sensitive, a deeper pink than usual from the pregnancy, and he lined up his slit with the tiny opening at her tip.
The visual alone made him moan, a low, guttural sound that vibrated through his chest.
"Because you’re pregnant..." He pressed against her nipple, watching his precum mix with the natural flush of her skin, watching the way she responded to him even here, even like this. "They look bigger than before..."
He circled the areola with his tip, slow, leaving a wet ring around the puckered skin.
"So... pretty..."
Drip—
Oathran noticed it before he felt it. A single drop of red, landing on the soft swell of Cecilia’s belly, stark against her skin. Then another. He touched his upper lip and his fingers came away wet.
A nosebleed. Some vein had burst, whether from the strain of holding back or the sheer, overwhelming obscenity of what he was witnessing, he couldn’t tell.
He was witnessing everything. Arkai’s cock nudging against the peak of her breast, the slick head dragging across the flushed bud until she whimpered.
Her mouth on Eastiel, her tongue tracing those ridged spikes, her lips stretched around his girth. The camera in Eastiel’s shaking hand, capturing it all.
And Oathran, buried inside her, surrounded by her, feeling every clench and flutter of her climax, was somehow the one watching from the outside. The third party. No, the fourth...?
It was too—obscene.
Out of a small, petty jealousy he would never admit to, he pressed deeper. A quarter inch more than the agreed three.
She didn’t react, too focused on Eastiel’s spikes, too lost in Arkai’s attention. He pushed another quarter inch. Still nothing. Emboldened, desperate, burning with the need to be noticed, he thrust a full four inches inside her.
Cecilia grinned.
He flinched.
That grin. That wicked grin!
She glanced at him, smiling around Eastiel’s tip, her eyes rolling back in pleasure as her inner walls fluttered around Oathran’s stolen inches.
"Fuck!" He cursed.
He had been baited. Played. He was lured into giving her another inch!
He pulled back immediately, but the damage was done.
"You, woman!" He growled.
Cecilia finally turned her head, releasing Eastiel just long enough to look up at Oathran with glassy, pleading eyes. "Oathran... Just... mmm... One full dip. One dip... Just one...?"
The edges of his vision went white. Heat flooded his face, his chest, his core. Another hot trickle spilled from his nose, dripping down his lip, splashing onto her belly where the first drops were.
This woman would kill him with that mouth of hers! And all that, while having her mouth full with his brother’s cock—
This—no. He needed to remember who he was. A dragon. An ancient, powerful being who had lived centuries and fought horrors and commanded respect.
He was not going to be undone by a pregnant woman’s negotiation tactics. He needed to take back some control.
She wanted one dip? Alright. One, full dip. But he wouldn’t give her just that.
"Fine—"
He leaned down completely, his body pressing over hers, not crushing but covering her. Claiming her. His sweat-damp chest met the softness of her breasts, skin against slick skin, and before she could react, he captured her mouth.
The mouth that was still full of Eastiel’s cock.
"Brother—!" Eastiel’s moan was long and shattered, his lion tail snapping rigid behind him as he felt a second tongue join hers. Oathran’s tongue, lapping around the ridged tip still nestled between Cecilia’s lips.
The sensation was indescribable. Wet heat from both sides. The impossible visual of his eldest brother’s mouth pressed against his girlfriend’s, both of them working him toge—"Oohh fuuuu—"
"Ah—Oathran—" Arkai flinched too, his wolf ears pinned back, his jaw slack. As Oathran pressed over Cecilia’s body, her breasts were trapped against the hard planes of Oathran’s pectoral muscles, firm, sweat-slicked, heaving with exertion.
But Arkai’s cock was still right there, still wedged in her plumpness. He could feel it, her hardened nipples, his brother’s own tight nipples, both rubbing against his shaft as Oathran moved. Over and over and ov—
SCHLP—!
One dip. One full, devastating dip. Oathran buried his entire length inside her in a single, controlled thrust, claiming every inch of her inner heat in one motion.
"MMMH—!" Cecilia’s scream was muffled by the pressures, her body convulsing in pleasure—
SQUIRT—!
She came again, gushing around Oathran’s full length, her inner walls clamping down on him with rhythmic, pulsing desperation.
"Brother, I’m c—" Eastiel yanked at Oathran’s shoulder, trying to pull free—
But it was too late.
"Aaaahhh—fuuuuck—" Arkai’s groan was guttural, broken, as his release erupted from him, hot and thick, coating the space between his eldest brother’s chest and his girlfriend’s breasts.
White painted her breasts, the hard ridges of Oathran’s pectorals, marking them both, mingling with sweat and the lingering traces of her earlier climax.
Eastiel followed a heartbeat later, a desperate cry tearing from his throat as he spilled across her tongue, Oathran’s lower lip, the corner of her mouth. The camera in his hand dropped to the mattress, still recording, forgotten as his body arched and shuddered through the force of his release.
And Oathran saw stars as he spilled deep inside her.
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