Divine Milking System

Chapter 290: 290 | Your Milk On My Couch

The brick walls dissolved first. The candles went next, their warm light replaced by the cool glow of Aurora’s living room lamps. The wine-colored sheets disappeared from beneath us, and the impossible rain-slicked city outside the windows collapsed into Aurora’s actual windows showing the actual campus and the actual moon hanging over the actual Pacific Ocean. The bed vanished and we materialized exactly where we’d been sitting before I activated the Sanctum, which was on Aurora’s couch, which was approximately six feet from Aurora’s television, which was currently playing what appeared to be a competitive cooking show at low volume.

Aurora sat at the opposite end of the couch with her legs tucked beneath her, wearing the same cropped white sweater and grey shorts from earlier, a blanket pulled over her lap. A bowl of popcorn balanced on the armrest beside her. She held the remote in one hand and a glass of something amber in the other.

She didn’t flinch when two naked, sweaty, milk-covered people materialized on her couch connected at the pelvis. She took a sip of her drink. Looked at us over the rim of the glass. Looked at the cooking show. Looked back at us.

"So," Aurora said. "I see you two had a good time."

Addison made a noise into my neck that could have been a scream, a laugh, or the sound of someone’s soul departing their body.

I was still inside her.

My brain ran through the available options with the speed of someone who has made a career of being in rooms they shouldn’t be in with people they shouldn’t be with. Option one: pull out, grab a blanket, and pretend this was normal. Option two: explain the situation calmly and rationally. Option three: die.

"We can explain," I said.

"You’re naked on my couch."

"Yes."

"Both of you."

"Also yes."

"And you’re still..." Aurora gestured with the remote at the general vicinity of where Addison and I were joined. "Connected."

"In my defense, the timer ran out before I could—"

"I told him not to move," Addison said, her voice muffled by my shoulder. She still hadn’t lifted her face. Her legs hadn’t loosened by a single degree. "My legs don’t work. He’s staying."

Aurora’s expression didn’t change. She ate a piece of popcorn. Chewed it slowly. Swallowed.

"You got milk on my couch."

I looked down. She was right. A considerable amount of Addison’s milk had escaped during the transition and was currently soaking into the cushion beneath us in a spreading white stain that no amount of cleaning product would fully remove from leather.

"I’ll buy you a new couch."

"With what money?"

"Fair point."

"That couch cost three thousand credits."

"I’ll buy you half a new couch."

Aurora snorted. The sound was small and genuine and it broke whatever tension had been building since our reappearance. She set her drink down on the coffee table, tucked her orange hair behind one ear, and studied us with the focused interest of a wildlife researcher observing a new species of animal she hadn’t expected to discover in her living room.

"So?" Aurora asked. "How was she?"

The question wasn’t directed at me.

Addison finally peeled her face off my shoulder. Her makeup situation could only be described as catastrophic. Black lipstick smeared from chin to cheekbone. Mascara tracked down both cheeks in dark rivulets that gave her a look somewhere between post-concert raccoon and someone who had been violently crying, which she had been, though she would deny this until her last breath. Her purple-highlighted hair stuck to her face and neck in damp clumps. Bite marks decorated her throat and collarbone in a constellation pattern that I was privately very proud of.

Addison looked at Aurora.

Aurora looked at Addison.

Something passed between them that I couldn’t read. Years of friendship compressed into a single glance that carried information I would never have access to. Aurora’s green eyes softened, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward in a way that wasn’t mocking or jealous but simply fond. Like she was looking at her favorite person in the world and finding exactly what she expected to find.

"He’s okay," Addison said.

Aurora’s mouth fell open. freeweɓnovel.cѳm

"Okay?" I said. "I just gave you four—"

"Shut up." Addison’s hand found my mouth and pressed against it with enough force to squish my lips together. "I’m talking to Aurora."

"Mmph."

"He’s..." Addison’s hand dropped from my face. She looked down at where we were still connected, and for the first time since I’d known her, a blush crossed Addison Baxter’s face that had nothing to do with physical exertion. The red spread from her chest to her cheeks to the tips of her pierced ears. "He’s not bad. He’s. The thing with the phantom touches was. And when he..." She trailed off, waved a hand vaguely at the general concept of everything that had just happened, and then grabbed a throw pillow from behind her and pressed it against her face. "FUCK."

The pillow absorbed a scream that would have rattled windows.

Aurora watched this entire performance with the serenity of a woman who had orchestrated every detail of the evening’s events and was currently enjoying the payoff. She reached over, grabbed the bowl of popcorn, and held it out toward us.

"Popcorn?"

"I’m still inside your best friend."

"And?"

"I feel like accepting snacks right now sends the wrong message."

"The wrong message to whom? Addison’s been wanting to sleep with you since the ferry. I’ve been trying to get you two in a room together for a week. This is literally the plan working." Aurora ate another piece of popcorn. "Besides, you already ruined my couch. Least you can do is eat popcorn and tell me about it."

Addison removed the pillow from her face long enough to reach over and grab a handful of popcorn, which she ate without detaching from me, chewing with the focused aggression of someone processing complex emotions through carbohydrates. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

"He has a thing where he can make your skin feel stuff that isn’t there," Addison told Aurora through a mouthful of popcorn.

"I know. The phantom touches."

"You didn’t tell me it would feel like that."

"I literally told you on Tuesday. I said, and I quote, ’Addie, the boy can make you feel things in places he isn’t touching.’ You called me dramatic."

"You are dramatic. But also correct. Both things can be true." Addison shifted on my lap, and the movement sent a jolt through my entire lower body because I was, let me reiterate for the record, still very much inside her. "He also bit me."

"I see the evidence."

"Multiple times."

"Multiple pieces of evidence, yes."

"And the milk thing is." Addison paused, popcorn halfway to her mouth, and her brown eyes went distant for a moment as she processed the memory. "The milk thing is really weird and also maybe the best part? Like objectively it should not feel that good. Having someone drink from you while they’re also. You know."

"Destroying you from the inside?"

"I was going to say something classier than that."

"No you weren’t."

"No I wasn’t." Addison ate the popcorn. "He also called me beautiful."