"Sure, Iâll present my body to you for the taking. You won fair and square after all. My pussy, my mouth, or my assâwhatever you want tonight, itâs all yours. No holding back, okay?"
Roselynâs gaze slid sideways to Isabelle, who was still frozen with that hands on her flushed cheeks, like she couldnât believe what sheâd heard.
"Ah, but my elder sister..." Roselynâs tone softened just a fraction, almost protective. "Sheâs something of a pure maiden, and always has been. Can you please leave her out of this? Feel free to give me her share of the pounding instead. I can take it twice as hard if thatâs what you need."
"Really?" The word slipped out before I could stop it.
A sharp pang twisted in my chest; the feeling of guilt, so sudden and cold.
Here I was, casually asking to have sex with two sisters like it was nothing, like I hadnât just met most of these people a few hours ago.
What kind of asshole did that make me?
I knew it; I was getting conceited.
"Iâm sorry, Isabelle." I turned to her fully, rubbing the back of my neck. "Itâs not like Iâm a predator or anything. I swear. Iâve just... been turned on by your mere presence for a while now. The way you move, the way you look at me sometimes, and the way your wings flutter when youâre nervousâitâs been driving me crazy, I wonât lie... So I decided to just... say it. But if you donât want to, thatâs completely fine. I didnât mean to put you on the spo--"
"Wh-what nonsense are you spewing out, Roselyn!" she suddenly yelled, interrupting my apology, with her voice cracking higher than usual. "When did I say I didnât... want some too?!"
Isabelleâs big green eyes darted up to meet mine, then dropped again.
She poked her index fingers together in front of her stomach, twisting them nervously.
Eh?
The platform went quiet again, except for a few scattered gasps from the onlookers.
Isabelleâs blush deepened to scarlet, but she lifted her chin and forced herself to hold my gaze.
"If Benjamin is in sexual need," she said, with her words careful but firm, "I donât mind assisting him. Youâre our guest, after all."
Captive. Iâm your captive.
But holy smokes! Isabelle truly was so cute and adorable right then.
Those wide green eyes, the nervous finger-poking, the way her lower lip caught between her teeth for a second...
I could already picture pressing that slender body against mine, feeling her tremble under my hands, hearing those soft gasps turn into moans.
...Uhm...
I think from Chapter 1 till now, Iâve somehow started getting addicted to this stuff. I donât know if itâs just me.
Back on earth, sex was something you built up to; you know, like dates, feelings, maybe a few drinks.
But here it felt like oxygen to me, like breathing.
Every glance, every brush of skin, every short skirt and damp panty crotch I caught sight of made my cock throb harder.
Was it this new world warping me? The influence of magic, or the lack of apparent consequences?
Or had I always been this horny and just never admitted it?
Anyway;
Roselyn didnât give me time to spiral further.
She grabbed my arm in a firm gripâfingers strong from all that fightingâand turned to the crowd of still-gawking fairies.
"Showâs over, everyone! Go back to whatever you were doing before my we got all worked up." She waved her free hand dismissively. "Nothing to see here unless youâre into voyeurismâand if you are, get your own human."
A ripple of embarrassed laughter and wing-flutters answered her.
Fairies scatteredâsome shooting me shy, curious looks over their shoulders as they flew off or scampered across vine bridges.
Roselyn tugged me toward a small arched door set into the massive trunk behind the mushroom cap.
Isabelle fell in step on my other side, her wings tucked tight against her back like she was trying to make herself smaller.
And strangely, the two violet-haired twinsâClaire and Clay, the ones Iâd mostly been ignoringâtrailed after us without a word, their matching expressions calm but eyes bright with interest.
We stepped through the doorway into the treeâs interior.
It was like walking into a living longhouse carved from the heartwood itself.
The trunk hollowed out into a tall, open space that stretched both upward and downward.
Thick branches served as natural beams and floors; wide platforms ringed the central shaft at irregular heights, connected by gently spiraling staircases of polished wood and living vines.
Lanterns of captured firefly-light hung from tendrils overhead, casting warm golden pools across woven-rush mats and low furniture.
Upward levels held what looked like sleeping lofts and storage nooks; downward ones vanished into shadow, probably leading to cellars or root-rooms. The air smelled of clean sap, moss, and a faint sweet incense.
Roselyn led us down the nearest spiral staircase, our footsteps soft on the wood.
We passed a ground-floor landing that opened into what was clearly a shopfront: a wide window-like opening framed by curling vines, counters laden with jars of glowing pollen, braided flower crowns, tiny enchanted trinkets.
There were little customers at this hour, it seemed, just mostly the quiet hum of the tree breathing around us.
She pulled me straight out through another low door at the base, stepping onto soft grass.
A few paces away stood a smaller structureâa cottage woven from vibrant green wood and thick vines, walls pulsing faintly with bioluminescence.
The roof was a dome of broad leaves that overlapped like shingles.
We passed through a short hall lined with hanging dried herbs and entered the main room.
The door opened directly into a girlâs bedroom, fairy-style.
Pale green walls curved gently, embedded with clusters of tiny glowing crystals that mimicked stars.
Shelves carved into the wood held rows of delicate dollsâporcelain-faced fairies in frilly dresses, stuffed cloth versions with embroidered wings, little wooden figures painted in pastel silks.
Strings of luminescent beads draped from the ceiling like curtains, swaying faintly.
A vanity in one corner overflowed with jars of shimmering powders, brushes made from iridescent feathers, and a mirror framed in twisting vines.
Postersâor actual hand-painted scrollsâof famous fairy dancers and legendary warriors hung crookedly.
A faint scent of jasmine and vanilla, and warm skin hung in the air, thick enough to make my head swim and my dick twitch harder.
In the center, was a wide bed, big enough for three or four.
The frame was pale polished wood shaped like spreading branches; the mattress was layered in soft green and cream linens, piled with pillows stuffed with cloud-cotton and flower petals.
A single sheer canopy of gossamer hung above it, drifting in the slight breeze from an open skylight.
Roselyn released my arm and hopped onto the bed first, landing on her knees with a bounce that made her breasts jiggle under the crop top.
She patted the space beside her eagerly.