Chapter 1368: The New Favorite

"How often is this going to happen?"

Phei had asked the question sometime during the third hour of being almost completely forgotten in favor of Melissa and his unborn child.

He was seated deep into one of the enormous couches inside the cinema room with the Goddess tucked comfortably against him, one arm around her waist while his little sister rested nearby in her reduced Dragon form. Across the room, Melissa remained surrounded as though pregnancy had somehow transformed her into the most fascinating existence on Paradise Island overnight.

The scene had barely changed since Phei and Melissa accidentally announced the pregnancy to everyone.

At first there had been shock, then questions, disbelief that was followed almost immediately by a migration toward Melissa that left Phei standing there with his newly adopted Dragon sister wondering how he had managed to return from nearly a year of hell only to lose everyone’s attention to a tiny person who had not even been born yet.

Melissa had been trapped lovingly at the center of it ever since.

Maddie and Sierra had practically attached themselves to her. Soraya had spent enough time crouched near Melissa’s stomach that Phei had jokingly considered charging rent, while Noor, Valentina, Catrina, Emily and Patricia had rotated through questions ranging from whether Melissa could feel the baby moving yet to whether Phei’s Dragon bloodline was going to make pregnancy weird.

Roxanne and the Goddess had been the least surprised because they already knew, and several others had known as well without ever betraying Melissa’s secret. The Flower Elf knew. So did the Origin Elf and the other Elves, the female Demon, Seraphine and the Dragonkin; although all of them just like Sienna, Dravenna, Maya, refused to tell a secret and awaited for Phei and Melissa to find out themselves.

None of them had expected the announcement to explode through the penthouse quite like this, though.

Phei had expected the opposite.

He had returned preparing himself for interrogation:

Where had he been? Why had two weeks become almost a year for him? Why could he suddenly fly? Since when could he walk through glass? Why did he feel like several terrifying things had been stuffed into the same handsome body? Why was there a Dragon in his arms, and why in the absolute hell was he calling that Dragon his little sister?

Instead, pregnancy had apparently defeated every mystery he brought home.

Not completely, of course.

After almost the first hour, the women had recovered enough to remember Phei existed, and once they did, the way they began looking at him made it extremely obvious that some forms of curiosity had considerably less to do with cultivation.

Phei had tried escaping into the kitchen under the excuse that he’d promised someone a feast and hopefully everyone can join.

That had worked for approximately five minutes.

Before his women began drifting into the kitchen one by one under increasingly terrible excuses. Someone needed water. Someone else wanted to know whether he needed help cutting meat. Another apparently had urgent business involving opening a cabinet she had never used before in her life.

Most of them simply wanted kisses.

Phei gave them willingly.

After nearly a year away from them, even the little interruptions felt good.

He would be seasoning meat and suddenly find Valentina wrapping her arms around him from behind. Noor came in quieter and left after stealing a long kiss that made her blush when someone nearly entered behind her. Soraya shamelessly demanded hers and then complained that a welcome-home kiss should have lasted longer.

Cassiopeia had been considerably less interested in kisses alone.

At some point she had slipped into the kitchen, waited until nobody was watching, and disappeared beneath the counter with the confidence of a woman who had clearly decided subtlety was everyone else’s problem.

Phei had spent the next several minutes attempting to continue preparing dinner while Cassiopeia privately made concentrating much more difficult than chopping meat had any right to be.

He felt her first at his belt.

The fly had opened under the counter where it hid her from the doorway, and then her mouth, hot and sure, closed over the head of his cock she could barely swallow whole before he had finished the cut in front of him. He set the knife down. His other hand found the edge of the counter and stayed there, because looking down would have given the whole penthouse a view of what she was doing, and looking straight ahead was the only thing keeping his face ordinary.

"Cass~"

She did not answer with words.

She took more of him, lips sealing around the thick shaft, tongue dragging the underside while one hand stroked what her mouth could not finish. He was already too much for her. The head of his cock filled her, the first heavy inches stretched her lips, and the rest of him stayed out in the dark under the counter, thick and veined and wet from her spit, her fist working the leftover length while she sucked the part she could steal.

"Nnh."

A wet sound followed, small and hidden by the board.

She pulled off until only the crown sat on her tongue, then sank again, slower, deeper, her throat tightening around him before she had to come back up for air. Spit shone on the unused inches. She licked them anyway, base to head, then took him back into her mouth and hollowed her cheeks until his hips threatened to move and ruin the act of a man calmly cooking.

"You’re going to get us caught," he said low to the empty air above the cutting board.

She hummed around him.

The vibration went straight down his cock. He braced harder. She set a pace under there — suck, stroke, pull off to breathe, lick the slit, take him again — and every time the leftover length throbbed in her hand she squeezed it as if she meant to punish him for being too big to swallow.

Her other hand found his balls and rolled them while her mouth stayed busy, and Phei chopped nothing, stirred nothing, and stared at the far wall like a man who had remembered how to pray.

"Fuck."

She came off him with a wet pop, kissed the head, and then the space under the counter changed.

He heard the dress, felt her turn and her back up into him on her hands and knees with her ass raised, the counter low enough that she had to stay folded, and the head of his cock found her pussy already wet.

She pushed back.

"Ah—!"

Eight inches sank into her before her body stopped him. The rest shone between her ass and his hips, dark and unused, pressed to the wet seam of her while her pussy clung to what it had taken.

He grabbed her waist under the board, bent over the counter like a man checking a pan, and fucked her from behind in that cramped all-fours hold. Short, deep strokes. The wet slap of his hips on her ass stayed small and close and far too loud.

Her inner lips dragged out on every withdraw, glossy around the shaft, then folded back in when he fed her again, and the leftover length slapped her folds every time her wall refused the rest.

"Phei—"

"Quiet," he said into the counter. "You started this."

She pushed back harder. He met her. One hand stayed on her waist. The other reached under her, found a tit hanging toward the floor, and squeezed while he pumped her, thumb rolling the nipple until she shook and tried to take more than she could. The kitchen stayed empty while the pan sat cold.

His cock drove into her pussy in a steady, punishing rhythm that made the cabinet door tremble, and Cassiopeia bit her own wrist so the sound would die there.

"Haaah."

He rubbed her clit with the hand that left her tit, two fingers working the swollen peak in time with the thrusts, and her pussy locked around the half of him she held. He did not pull out. He buried what she could take and ground, then drew back until the head stretched her entrance pale and flushed, then drove in again.

Again.

The leftover inches stayed outside her, wet with her, proof she could not finish him and did not care.

She came like that, on her hands and knees under the counter, a broken muffled cry into her arm, her pussy fluttering and squeezing while he kept fucking her through it. He followed a few strokes later, spending inside her, cum welling out around the shaft and running down over the unused length and her thighs.

He stayed bent over the board until the last pulse left him, then eased out, the head leaving her pussy with a wet pop sound, his cock still heavy and shining between them.

She eventually emerged looking entirely too composed.

Phei stared at her.

Cassiopeia merely adjusted her dress, wiped the corner of her mouth with one finger, and walked away.

The woman was dangerous.

Maddie had been worse in a completely different way.

Phei had gone to shower before cooking properly, mostly because returning from the Primordial Frozen Zone and immediately preparing a family feast while smelling faintly of frozen dead monsters residues seemed socially questionable. Maddie somehow appeared in the bathroom not long afterward, shut the door behind herself, and turned what should have been a quick shower into something considerably less efficient.

She stepped in still dressed in her dress, then wasn’t, the cotton peeled off and dropped outside the glass. Water hit her. She looked at his cock, still half-hard from the kitchen encounters, and smiled like a problem that had found its room.