You are back.
I can see you staring. Do not pretend you are not. You are looking at the way the sweat is dripping down my cleavage, aren't you?
Well, enjoy the view. It is not often you get to see the main attacker of the Xeca completely naked, covered in perspiration, and pinning her own twin sister to a gym mat.
Ah...
The air in the training room is thick. It smells of recycled oxygen, ozone, and the distinct, musky scent of arousal. We call this training, but let's be honest with each other. When you put two identical twins with high libidos in a room, strip them naked, and tell them to wrestle until one of them gives up, it is not combat practice.
It is foreplay.
"Give up, Tonix," I growled, tightening my legs around her waist. My thighs were slippery against her hips. "You know I have the upper hand. I always do."
Tonix looked up at me. Her face was flushed red, her chest heaving against mine. We are mirrors of each other, but right now, she looks like a mess. A beautiful, chaotic mess.
"Never, Gin," she panted. Her hand snaked down, trying to find purchase between my legs. "First one to cum loses. That is the rule."
I laughed. It was a rough sound. "You are trembling. Your Melios is leaking. The floor is getting frosty."
It was true. A thin layer of frost was spreading out from beneath her back, contrasting with the heat radiating from my skin. My Flambe ability was flaring up, making my skin hot to the touch. Fire and Ice. We were a thermodynamic nightmare waiting to happen.
I leaned down, brushing my lips against her ear. I knew her weak spot. It was right behind the lobe.
"I am going to make you scream," I whispered. "And then I am going to make you cook me dinner."
Tonix arched her back, a desperate whine escaping her throat. She was close. I could feel the tension in her muscles, the way her hips bucked involuntarily against my groin.
I was about to deliver the final blow... well, a calculated grind of my clitoris against her pubic bone, when the door hissed open.
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.
The playful, erotic tension evaporated, replaced by a heavy, suffocating pressure. It was the presence of an Inquor.
I looked up, not bothering to cover myself.
Capt stood in the doorway.
He looked terrible.
That is the culinary term for it. He looked like a soufflé that had collapsed in the oven. His skin was pale, almost translucent. There were dark circles under his eyes that looked like bruises. He was leaning heavily against the doorframe, his hand clutching his chest, right over his heart.
But that was not what drew my attention.
It was the bulge in his pants.
It was massive. Angry. It strained against the fabric of his military trousers, a testament to the biological imperative that drove his existence.
"Capt?" Tonix whispered, pushing me off her. We both scrambled to our knees, but neither of us reached for our clothes.
"Ladies," Capt said. His voice was a rasp, like sandpaper over gravel. He took a step forward, stumbling slightly. "I hope I am not interrupting... dessert."
I stood up, walking toward him. My body was still humming with the adrenaline from the wrestling match, but now it was mixing with something else. Concern. And hunger.
"You should be in bed," I said, crossing my arms. I made sure to posture myself so he could see everything. "Shorty said, you passed out after your Felt with Mommy. Your heart..."
"My heart is fine," he interrupted. He grimaced, rubbing the spot on his chest. "It is just... adjusting.
"But we have a problem."
He walked deeper into the room. The heat radiating from him was intense. It wasn't fever. It was raw Melios energy, looking for a release.
"Neptune," he said, locking eyes with me. "The sensors picked up a hive. Centaur Type. A big one."
I swallowed. Centaurs. They were fast, armored, and they hit like freight trains.
"When?" Tonix asked, standing up behind me.
"Tomorrow," Capt said. "Early morning. I need you two. Fire and Ice are the only things that can crack their armor plating."
He took another step. He was close now. I could smell him. He smelled of blood, antiseptic, and that intoxicating pheromone scent that turned my brain into mush.
"But you are drained," I pointed out, my eyes dropping to his crotch. "You gave everything to Mira. If you try to fight tomorrow without a recharge..."
"That is why I am here," he said.
He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and brushed his thumb over my nipple.
My knees nearly buckled. The sensation was electric. It shot straight down to my womb, igniting a fire that had nothing to do with my Melios.
"I need a Felt," he whispered. "I need both of you. I need your..."
I looked at Tonix. She was biting her lip, her eyes wide. We both knew it was dangerous. He was unstable. If we pushed him too hard, his heart might give out.
But then I looked at him. Really looked at him.
He was in pain. Not just physical pain. He was terrified. Not for himself, but for us. He needed this connection. He needed to know that we belonged to him, and he belonged to us.
And God help me, I wanted him.
I usually hate men. They are bland, flavorless, and textureless, but Ragia? Ragia is the finest steak I have ever seen, seasoned with danger and served rare.
"You are going to kill yourself, Capt," I whispered, stepping closer until my breasts were pressed against his shirt.
"Then revive me," he grinned. It was a weak, crooked grin, but it was him. "Cook me, Chef."
That was the trigger word.
I dropped to my knees.
"Tonix," I ordered, not looking back. "Get his shirt."
I didn't wait. I reached for his belt buckle. My hands were shaking, not from fear, but from anticipation. I undid the button and yanked the zipper down.
His erection sprang free.
It was magnificent. Thick, veiny, and throbbing with a life of its own. It twitched in the cool air of the gym, a divining rod pointing straight at my face.
"Bon appétit," I murmured.
I took him into my mouth.
He tasted of salt and iron. He tasted like life.
"Oh..." Capt groaned, his hands tangling in my sweaty hair. "Chef..."
Behind him, I heard the rustle of fabric. Tonix was peeling his shirt off, exposing his chest. I couldn't see it, but I knew the scar was there. The pink, fresh skin that Shorty had healed.
Tonix wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her naked body against his back. She kissed his shoulder, her hands roaming down to his hips.
"We are going to take care of you," Tonix whispered. "We are going to make you strong."
I worked my tongue around the head of his penis, swirling, sucking. I felt him pulse. He was already close. He was always close when it was us. The twins. The double threat.
"Felt room," Capt gasped, trying to pull away. "Let's go to the..."
"No," I said, pulling off him. A string of saliva connected my lip to his cock. "Right here. On the mat. Where we sweat."
I stood up and pushed him. He didn't have the strength to resist. He toppled backward onto the blue wrestling mat.
I looked at you, reader.
Are you watching? This is how you handle a hero. You don't coddle him. You consume him.
I straddled his hips. I didn't bother with lubrication. I was already soaking wet from the wrestling match.
"Tonix, take his face," I commanded.
Tonix crawled over him on all fours, positioning herself above his head. She lowered herself, offering her pussy to his mouth.
Capt didn't hesitate. He reached up, gripping her hips, and buried his face in her.
I watched for a second, the sight of my twin being eaten out by the man I loved sending a spike of jealousy and arousal through me.
Then, I sank down.
He filled me.
It was sudden. Absolute.
"Ah!" I cried out, throwing my head back.
He was huge. He stretched me to my limit, hitting walls I didn't know I had. It felt like he was rearranging my internal organs.
"Chef..." he mumbled against Tonix's wetness.
"Shut up and eat!" I yelled.
I started to ride him.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't the slow, romantic lovemaking Arala had talked about. This was primal. This was a desperate attempt to shove life back into a dying star.
I ground my hips, feeling the friction burn. My Melios flared. Fire danced across my skin.
"Hot..." Capt groaned. His hips bucked upward, meeting my thrusts.
"Cool him down, Tonix!" I shouted.
Tonix shivered. I saw the frost spreading across Capt's chest where her hands touched him.
Fire and Ice. We were tempering him like steel.
"Yes... yes!" Capt roared, his voice muffled by Tonix's thighs.
I looked down at him. His eyes were squeezed shut. He was in ecstasy. He was eating Tonix like a starving man, while pounding into me with a strength that shouldn't have been possible for a man in his condition.
"More!" I screamed. "Give me everything, Capt!"
I felt it building. The pressure. The heat.
My Feltish. Threesome. It wasn't just about the numbers. It was about the shared load. The shared sensation.
I reached forward and grabbed Tonix's hand. Our fingers interlaced.
I felt her cold. She felt my heat.
We completed the circuit.
"I am... I am close!" Tonix wailed, her hips moving frantically against Capt's face.
"Do it!" I ordered.
Tonix screamed, her body seizing up. She clamped down on Capt's face, her juices flooding him.
At the same moment, Capt bucked hard. His hands gripped my waist, bruising the skin.
"Chef!" he shouted.
He erupted inside me.
It was like a volcano. Hot, thick, endless. I felt his seed flooding my womb, filling me up, stretching me.
My own orgasm hit me a split second later.
"Capt!" I screamed.
My vision went white. I clamped down on him, milking him dry. I felt the Melios rushing into me. It wasn't just energy. It was fire. Pure, destructive fire.
We stayed like that for what felt like hours.
Me on top of him, panting. Tonix sitting on his face, trembling.
Slowly, the energy settled.
Tonix climbed off him, collapsing on the mat beside us. I rolled off, lying on his other side.
Capt lay there, staring at the ceiling. His chest was heaving. But the color was back in his cheeks. The dark circles seemed to have faded.
He turned his head to look at me.
"That was..." he wheezed. "A five-star meal."
I smirked, reaching out to wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Don't get used to it. Next time, you do the cooking."
He chuckled, but it turned into a cough. He winced, rubbing his chest again.
"Does it still hurt?" Tonix asked softly, tracing the scar on his chest.
"Less," Capt lied. I knew he was lying. I could see it in his eyes.
He sat up, groaning. He looked at us. Naked. Sweaty. Satiated.
"Thank you," he said. His voice was serious now. "For tomorrow. We are going to win."
"We better," I said, sitting up and stretching. My body felt loose, powerful. "I am not letting some horse-lady turn you into a snack."
He stood up, pulling his pants up. He looked stronger. The Felt had worked. But as he walked to the door, I saw him stumble again. Just once.
He caught himself on the frame. He looked back at us and gave a thumbs up.
"Sleep well, ladies."
Then he was gone.
The door hissed shut.
I looked at Tonix. She looked at me.
"He is dying, isn't he?" Tonix whispered. The fear was back in her eyes.
I pulled my knees to my chest. I wanted to tell her to shut up. I wanted to make a joke. I wanted to say he was invincible.
But I am a chef. I know when ingredients are spoiling.
"We won't let him," I said fiercely. "We will burn the whole galaxy down before we let him die."
Tonix nodded. She crawled over to me and rested her head on my shoulder.
I wrapped my arm around her.
You are probably thinking this is sad. You are thinking we are pathetic, clinging to a man who is falling apart.
But you are wrong.
This isn't sadness. This is fuel.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow we are going to grill some Centaurs.
Now, stop looking at us. The show is over. Get out of my kitchen.