Tristan went to the kitchens, tossing three goblets into his [Cat Pack] before filling a pitcher with clear water. Staying well-hydrated during intimate encounters was a habit ingrained into him at the School—one of the few he’d let stay with him. Even if Svarga claimed she wasn’t thirsty after their tryst, it was worth having it on hand, just in case.

Besides, now she’d asked for Matt to join them.

Matt…

Hesitating, Tristan set the pitcher on a nearby marble counter and fished a dark bottle from a rack that stood beside the cooling chests. He uncorked the stopper and drank deeply. The taste was somewhere between brandy and whisky but not unpleasant. Some liquid courage couldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t that they’d never done it before. Honestly, that may have been the problem. During their time in Abalone together, when it was just him, Matt, and Peony, the feeling had struck him like a bolt of lightning. That more-than-friends crush that high schoolers chased and inhaled like a drug.

Tristan took another swig.

The last thing Tristan ever wanted was to make things awkward between them. Ravyn’s comment while they were camping about them making out had completely thrown Tristan for a loop. He thought for sure she’d figured it out. But, judging from Matt’s reaction, there was no mutual interest to be had. Which was fine. Tristan was honored to call him a friend.

Except that now Tristan found himself worrying that he’d destroy their friendship by accident thanks to his silly crush. Maybe he’d say something offensive, or a stare would last too long. Or, the current contender, Hey, Matt, want to get naked with me again? There’s another catgirl waiting.

Tristan groaned and stole one more sip. The warm tonic was at least calming his nerves.

“Hey, Tristan. Didn’t expect to find you here.” Matt rounded the corner into the kitchens.

Tristan nearly leaped out of his skin. He swiftly corked the bottle and shoved it into his pack. “O-oh! Hey! I was looking for you, actually.”

Matt grinned and began sifting through cupboards and cabinets, grabbing a handful of dried fruits here and a few strips of smoked meats there. “Cailu let me go early today. Said he had too much of a headache.”

“Probably an early hangover.”

He popped the fruit into his mouth and tore a bite of jerky before leaning against the counter. “Wait, seriously?”

Tristan nodded. “He and Ravyn split two or three bottles of wine this morning.”

“Sorry, Cailu and Ravyn shared wine?” Matt looked incredulous.

“It went about as well as you imagine.” Tristan scratched his chin. “I think Cailu was honestly trying to ask her for advice and failed catastrophically.”

“Jesus. All right. I’ll check on Ravyn later.” He chewed another handful of jerky before he continued. “You said you were looking for me. What’s up?”

This sounded a lot easier to do when Svarga asked. “Remember the book Peony was reading? In Abalone?”

“The one you said was smut?” Matt chuckled.

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, I remember. What about it?”

“The author lives here.”

Matt paused. “Really?”

Tristan nodded. “Yeah. Her name is Svarga. I, er, was just in her room with her.” He shifted uncomfortably, then crossed his arms over his chest. “She asked to try some things. With both of us.”

Matt’s brow furrowed, and Tristan shrank beneath his stare.

Do you see right through me?

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just offered to ask, is all,” Tristan added quickly. Very smooth. I’m sure that didn’t raise any suspicion.

“No, it’s fine.” Matt sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “If you’re good with it, I am, too.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Yeah. You’re right—no reason for you not to be. You’re a pro at this.” Matt flinched, his smile wavering. “I mean, I’ve only finished the breeding Quest once.” He laughed. Something about it seemed forced. “I don’t know why I thought that’d sound better than ‘sex quest,’ but there it is.”

Tristan flushed. His initial years in Nyarlea were filled by Celestia setting a calendar of girls for him every single day. Being able to choose whose bed he’d spend time in was still very new—and admittedly exciting. It dawned on him that Matt’s hesitation had nothing to do with him. “Matt, seriously, you don’t have to—”

Matt waved a hand, then gestured to the door. “We’re good. Lead on.” When Tristan hesitated, Matt’s easy smile returned. “C’mon. Not nice to keep a lady waiting, yeah?”

Tristan grabbed the pitcher with a nod, guiding Matt up the stairs to the secluded hallway where Svarga’s library and bedroom resided. He paused outside the closed door, then knocked.

“It’s Tristan,” he announced.

“Come in,” Svarga called.

Tristan opened the door and let Matt in first before he followed and switched the lock. Svarga perched nude in the middle of her bed on her knees, thighs parted and yellow eyes studying them in turn. Her spine arched slightly forward, accentuating her chest, and her long tail swayed behind her like a pendulum.

Matt’s eyes widened, and he coughed into his fist. “Svarga?”

“The one and only.” Svarga smiled.

“I’m Matt.” He looked over at Tristan, sliding his jacket off and tossing it into a nearby chair. “Is it my birthday? She’s got the pose and everything.”

Tristan snickered under his breath. “She wants to write more accurate material.”

“It is as he says.” Svarga slowly leaned forward, planting her hands on the bed before walking toward them on all fours. “So, Matt, what will you teach me?”

Matt shrugged, watching her as she moved. “I’m still pretty new at this myself.”

Tristan approached the bed. He cradled Svarga’s face in one hand and followed the line of her lips with his thumb. “What are you comfortable with?”

Svarga sucked his thumb inside her mouth, rolling it around with her tongue. The moist heat of her mouth echoed across his skin. “Anything,” she murmured.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she crooned. “Please.” She reached for Tristan’s shirt and yanked on it. “Everything off.”

Tristan and Matt divested their clothing and tossed it aside. Tristan’s eyes flickered back and forth between Svarga and Matt, and he prayed that neither seemed to linger for too long. He crawled on the bed behind Svarga, drawing her shoulders backward until she was seated, her back against his chest. Matt joined them, positioning himself at her front.

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” Tristan murmured.

Svarga did as he said, folding her arms behind her head until they rested around Tristan’s neck. He slid his hands beneath her thighs and spread her legs.

“How do you feel?” Tristan asked.

“Vulnerable,” Svarga replied, her legs trembling in his hold. “Helpless.”

“Do you like it?” Matt trailed his fingers along her abdomen, kissing her cheek while he waited for an answer.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Matt let his hands wander higher, massaging Svarga’s ample breasts against his palms. Tristan sunk his teeth into her shoulder as Matt captured her kiss. She whimpered, her toes curling. One hand fell free from Tristan, circling Matt’s neck and pulling him closer.

All awkward tension between them vanished with Svarga’s desperate moans.

Matt took Svarga’s hips from Tristan, shifting them to rest in his lap while her head rested on Tristan’s shoulder, her arms still shared between them. Matt plunged his fingers inside her just as Tristan moved his attention to her chest and masked her groans with his lips. She yielded to his tongue, seemingly welcoming the dual penetration of her body. She tasted like cinnamon and wine, and Tristan drank her in.

Svarga’s airy whimpers escalated in pitch and speed. She wrapped her legs around Matt’s waist, and her arms returned to Tristan’s neck. Her entire form shuddered with her climax, and her back arched to welcome their touch.

Tristan pulled away from their kiss, pushing the hair from her face and waiting for her breathing to slow.

Before he could say anything, Svarga uttered a single word, “More.”

Tristan exchanged a look with a surprised Matt. I know. Catgirls are made of different stuff. “Can you lift her?”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?”

Tristan blushed. “If I told you I saw this in an eroge once, would you trust me?”

“I don’t know what that means, but sure.” Matt shrugged and slid away from the bed.

“Put her back to you and hold her thighs like I just did,” Tristan instructed.

Matt took the euphoria-drenched Svarga and carefully lifted her from the bed, leaning her head against his chest and supporting her just beneath the bend of her knees. “Still okay, Svarga?”

“Yes,” Svarga whispered, wrapping her tail around Matt’s back. “Goddess, yes.”

Tristan moved to stand in front of them and cupped the cheeks of Svarga’s backside in both hands. Holding them apart, he looked at Matt. “Lower her down on you. Slowly.”

“Tell me to stop if you need to,” Matt murmured to Svarga. He positioned himself against her opening and gingerly let gravity do the work.

Tristan moved his hands to her chest, pinching and teasing her nipples to keep her concentration divided.

“Mnh… ah!” Svarga hissed a breath through her teeth. One arm reached behind her, hand holding onto Matt’s neck, the other forward to hold Tristan’s shoulder. “That’s really tight.”

“Yeah, it is,” Matt groaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Tristan kept one hand on her breast and used the other to angle the head of his cock to her heat. Her body welcomed him as Matt lowered her down, and there was a collective gasp. She was scorching hot and soaking wet. Her head rocked forward, and her lips met Tristan’s.

“I’m gonna move you,” Matt warned. He lifted Svarga by a few inches, then left her to the descent. He moaned and bit his lip. “Jesus. Good on your, er, arrow-gee.”

Tristan nibbled Svarga’s lower lip and chuckled. “Eroge,” he corrected against her mouth.

Matt sputtered a laugh, then lifted Svarga again. “How’s that, Svarga?”

“I-I don’t—mnh! I don’t have the words,” she stuttered, grasping at their skin with her fingernails. “It’s so good.”

“Better hang on, then,” Tristan growled, winding his arms through her legs to further stabilize her. He bucked into her, thrusts hard and measured. Standing added a new dimension of pleasure—he could reach the limit of Svarga’s depths, more constricted and textured from Matt behind her.

Too many overwhelming thoughts and sensations pushed Tristan to an uncharacteristically fast edge. Svarga’s sweltering body, her fingernails raking into his back, the taste of her skin, Matt within arms reach, the sound of his ragged breathing, the muscles in his arms working as he held her.

“Ngh! Shit!” Tristan cried, tipping over the edge of his climax.

“Don’t stop! Harder!” Svarga commanded.

Matt grabbed Tristan’s forearm and held fast, keeping both him and Svarga in place as he plunged furiously inside her until they climaxed. Tristan barely heard her squeals or Matt’s groans. Instead, his imagination moved Matt’s solid grip beyond his forearm to pinning his wrists—

Dammit! Stop it!

Tristan blinked, clearing his thoughts, and returned to the present. He drew away from Svarga so Matt could bring her back to the bed and lay her down. He fished his pants from the pile of clothing and ran a hand through his hair.

“Think your next book will be more accurate?” Tristan asked as he dressed.

Svarga smiled. “I do.” She looked between Tristan and Matt. “Though you will still need to teach me how to touch a tail correctly.”

“I will later on. No problem.” Tristan threw on his shirt and retrieved the empty goblets from his pack. “Make sure you drink plenty of water.”

“Tristan, you okay, man?” Matt asked, leaning against the bed. “This is pretty ‘hit and run’ for you.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just need some fresh air,” Tristan lied. He left the room without another word, heading for the nearest courtyard.

No matter how much rubbing or scratching he did, the pressure against his forearm wouldn’t go away.