Chapter 348: Thrust Forward **
Sense Sharing at this time?
Ha—diabolical.
He needed to sever it. This bond, the echoes of her pleasure. The sensation she shared while being claimed by one of his bond-brothers.
His jaw clenched.
The great hall continued its cheerful chaos around him while Arkai Dawnoro sat very still and tried to remember how to breathe.
Which one?
Which one of them is inside my wife right now?
His traitorous body, ungoverned by the social requirements of the moment, responded with humiliating immediacy. He felt his own dick harden beneath the table.
This was the worst timing imaginable!
[Arkai: I thought we would warn each other before stretching open the heaven’s gate, Brothers! Which one of you is sheathing in her right now?!]
He roared, telepathic voice echoing through the bond.
[Cecilia: Arkai... help...]
This... Her voice was breathless and threaded with pleasure. She sounded like she was absolutely not asking for help in any meaningful sense.
[Eastiel: Mmmmmm—God, I am innocent... It is Elder Brother... ohhh, inside Cecilia after so long... so... good...]
The transmission was accompanied by a wash of sensation. Eastiel’s borrowed pleasure, experienced from hundreds of miles away, where he was apparently not inside their wife but still feeling it through the bond too.
The lion’s mental voice was thick, languid, as if he was lying back and enjoying a feast he had not cooked.
[Arkai: Where are you, Cece?]
[Cecilia: B-balcony... mmm right here, Arkai... I can see... you...]
Arkai’s head whipped toward the tall windows of his residence’s grand hall.
Through the glass, across the courtyard, the other wing of his estate rose in elegant stone and shadow. Its balconies overlooked the same grey winter sky, the same frozen gardens—
His guests were here! They could’ve seen he—
But he could not... see anything.
Nothing...?
The balconies looked empty. No movement or figures.
[Oathran: Cannot see us? Good. The ring works well.]
Ah.
The Presence Concealing Ring? Of course he was using it now, wrapping himself and Cecilia in a bubble of nonexistence while he—
Arkai felt it.
A slow, deep, strong stroke of his elder brother’s cock inside her. The sensation traveled through the bond like lightning, the stretch, the fullness, the rhythm of Oathran’s thrusts. Arkai’s hips flinched involuntarily beneath the table, his body trying to match a motion it was only feeling secondhand.
His hips floated. Just slightly, enough that his weight left the chair for a fraction of a heartbeat before settling back down.
[Oathran: Do you want us to go closer to you, Brother? Cecilia... seems to be enjoying the thrill of...]
Oathran sounded calm, curious, despite the thick passion and lust underneath it.
[Cecilia: No—no, what if they hear something—if they hear something, the illusion is gone—]
She sounded panicked and breathless, trying very hard to be responsible while her body was very much not cooperating.
[Oathran: So do not make a noise. We can talk like this, yes?]
[Cecilia: Oathra—aaahhh—]
Her transmission dissolved into pure sensation. A wave of pleasure crashed through the bond and left Arkai gripping the edge of the table.
He suddenly felt a sense of weightlessness. Not his own, but theirs. Oathran had taken her flying. The dragon’s wings must have unfurled, invisible and silent, lifting them both into the grey winter sky.
Where?
Closer to the grand hall? That was what Oathran had suggested. Over to the adjacent grand balcony, perhaps. Up the sweeping staircase that led to—
[Arkai: Brother—]
This crazy—
[Oathran: Finish your meals and excuse yourself for the hour, Arkai. Let us fuck our wife at the town square. It seems the more people potentially watching, the more... tight—]
Arkai felt his blood boil.
The idea was insane. Reckless. Irresponsible. The Presence Concealing Ring was powerful, but it was not infallible. If Cecilia made a sound—if someone stumbled into them—if the enchantment flickered for even a moment—
And yet.
The thought of it. Cecilia, invisible and filled, surrounded by oblivious crowds. The risk. The thrill. The way her body would clench and flutter with the knowledge that anyone could see, if only the magic failed—
Very tempting.
Very, very tempting.
[Eastiel: I cannot... exhibitionism... huh? Brothers, why are you doing this while I am hundreds of miles away from you?! Summon me, Cecilia... Teleport me there...!]
Eastiel sounded desperate. Hungry. It was as if he was pressing his face against the glass of a feast he could not attend.
SQUEEZE—
Suddenly, a sensation crashed through the bond. Cecilia’s body clenching around Oathran.
"Mmmfph—"
The sound escaped Arkai’s throat before he could stop it. His legs trembled beneath the table, the proxy squeeze of Cecilia’s cunt radiating through him like a second climax.
It sounded like a choke. It was a choke. A choke on pleasure that was not his own, transmitted through the bond—
"Cousin." Anton suddenly leaned in. The Tiger King was looking at him with concern, his dark brows drawn together. He reached for a glass of water and slid it across the table. "Are you okay?"
Arkai’s hand closed around the glass. His knuckles were white. His eyes, when they met Anton’s, were stern but desperate. "I need... to excuse myself. A bit."
He whispered roughly, controlled only by the thinnest thread of willpower.
Anton’s expression shifted. The concern deepened, but so did understanding. This was Arkai telling him to cover and manage the guests.
"What’s wrong?" Anton asked with a low voice, meant only for Arkai’s ears.
"Something has actually come up." Arkai whispered tightly. He was truly holding onto composure by his fingernails. "I will return, though. I promise."
"Are you sure?"
"Dead sure."
Anton studied him. Whatever he saw in Arkai’s face, the tension, the desperation, convinced him.
"Alright." He said steadily. "Be careful."
Arkai stood.
The motion drew eyes, of course. Arkai nodded at them, a single, curt acknowledgment, and then slipped away without words. The great hall immediately buzzed with curiosity.
Anton waved his hand casually, "He will be right back! Just eat!"
The guests, after a moment of hesitation, returned to their revelry. While Anton, knowing he must take over the hosting duties, launched into a story about his recent recovery.
Just a bit though. He himself didn’t want to go into full details. So, mainly he focused on the miraculous intervention of the Luna’s medical skills. He praised Lady Sees’s elixir, describing the way it had pulled him back from the brink.
The beasts listened, somewhat distracted and entertained, and their curiosity about Arkai’s departure temporarily sated.
Meanwhile, Arkai slipped out to the grand balcony.
The winter air hit him like a slap. Beside the grey, endless sky above and the empty courtyard below, he still saw nothing. He looked around, scanning the balcony, the staircase, the shadows between the stone columns.
Nothing.
No movement. No figures. No sign of his wife or his elder brother.
Where—
[Oathran: Face your right... a bit more.]
Arkai’s eyes widened.
He still could not see anything. The balcony was empty. The stone railing, the winter-bare vines climbing the trellis, all of it exactly as it should be, with no sign of the two people whose presence he could feel thrumming through the bond.
But he did as instructed. He turned to his right.
[Oathran: There... Good. Trust me now. Take Johnny out to play...]
Huh?
Arkai’s heart felt like it was exploding in his chest. The organ slammed against his ribs. The sun was still out and this was beyond reckless.
Here?
Now?
On the grand balcony? Where anyone could walk out at any moment? Where Anton or Caius or Drusilla could decide to check on him and find their host standing in the winter air with his—
But he did.
His hands moved before his mind could catch up, driven by trust and desperation and the maddening sensation from the bond. His cock emerged into the cold air, achingly hard, and he felt ridiculous and exposed and alive in a way he had not felt in decades.
[Oathran: Yes. Good. Now... thrust forward...]
...?
They were... right in front of him...?