This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

5.47 – A Third I

Rosalie still wasn't accustomed to waking up in another woman's arms. She drifted to consciousness, face buried into Zoey's shoulder, a sweet, familiar scent filling her. Instinctively, she snuggled closer, basking in the moment.

This hadn't been a comfort she had ever expected to indulge in. A not-small part of her felt guilty for doing so. Her life wasn't supposed to be filled with soft touches, lazy mornings, and waking up cradled in another woman's arms. She had been raised as a weapon. A heiress to an empire. The pinnacle of a generation.

Rosalie sighed into Zoey's shoulder, enjoying the closeness of the other woman. For a while, she luxuriated in the warmth of her skin.

The rays of light filtering through the window announced it was well past time to wake, though, and while Rosalie might have given up on resisting Zoey, she would at least not completely forsake her responsibilities. With reluctance, she peeled her eyes open.

Rosalie paused at what she saw.

Of course.

The blanket around Zoey's waist was sticking up like a tent. Rosalie rolled her eyes, half in disapproval, half in amusement. Insatiable didn't begin to describe this woman. How many times yesterday had she been satisfied, and still she had the nerve to want more?

Rosalie's heart fluttered, seeing Zoey's impressive weapon, even obscured by the blankets. Despite how many times she had seen the monster, there was still a part of her that hadn't come to terms with it. How could anyone, considering the thing?

Well, regardless.

How should Rosalie take care of this problem?

The thought came to her, embarrassing in how automatic it was. She didn't need to pleasure Zoey every time she saw her erection. Still, Rosalie reasoned with herself, it was what a diligent girlfriend would do.

There was a problem, though. An inconvenient roadblock. She and Zoey weren't alone. Another woman was sleeping in their bed.

Delta, her long orange hair draped around her in a wild mess, was also snuggled into Zoey, on the other side of her. Rosalie had mixed feelings about that. On a third woman being added to their bed. First, the practical: the Guild accommodations simply weren't that expansive, and three women—or more, if that was what the future held, and Rosalie suspected it did—meant the space would quickly grow crowded. That wouldn't be a problem for long. Her bed back at the palace would be more than up to the task.

Her stomach wrung at the idea. The prospect of returning home. The event wasn't even far away. She needed to talk to Zoey about it. Clear the air. Why hadn't she, already? It would be much worse if Zoey found out on her own. She would think that Rosalie didn't trust her. And that wasn't remotely why Rosalie shied away from the conversation.

Rather, it was ... what? That she was scared things would change? That Zoey would see her differently? Did she believe that? The logical part of her didn't. Zoey didn't even have the full context to appreciate what being a d'Celestin meant. If anything, it was Delta who would receive the news like a punch to the gut. Zoey hadn't grown up in this world, and knowing her, she would just shrug her shoulders at the reveal. Be surprised, maybe, but it wouldn't change anything. Her introduction to this world had been via sponsorship of a deity—being torn through dimensions and her memories suppressed. What was dating hidden royalty, compared to that? Yet, Rosalie was still afraid to tell her. Irrational or not.

Rosalie had a few days left, or perhaps even longer, since the trip to Mantle wouldn't be quick. She could afford to push the event off for a while longer.

But Delta sharing a bed with the two of them didn't just annoy Rosalie because it was growing crowded. Rosalie had mixed feelings on the girl herself, much less being her—her what? What did she call her girlfriend's girlfriend? Certainly, she wasn't Rosalie's girlfriend. A teammate, yes, and a partner in some sense. Not a girlfriend, though.

She shook those thoughts away; they were too confusing.

Regardless, that Zoey had formed an attachment to the aggravating woman was something that produced various emotions inside Rosalie. Not jealousy; Rosalie couldn't care less who Zoey slept around with. More like ... it made Rosalie question Zoey's judgment. Because really, why in the world was she pursuing a romance with the orange-haired irritant? Rosalie would reluctantly admit that she was gorgeous, and, frustratingly, quite good in bed, but still. Rosalie couldn't see the appeal.

Never mind that Rosalie's own stomach was starting to flutter whenever those playful violet eyes turned her way. She was annoying; that was the summation of Rosalie's feelings toward the woman. Any other feelings Rosalie stalwartly stamped down on with even more alacrity than normal, and she was already quite versed in denial.

But, to the original point: her dilemma. Zoey's morning wood. And Delta, cuddled in with them, serving as an enormous roadblock. While Rosalie might have been willing to take care of Zoey's needs if it had just been the two of them, Rosalie couldn't pleasure her girlfriend and have Delta wake up to see the show. The foxgirl would make far too many assumptions about Rosalie's character. That she was the deviant, desperately throwing herself at Zoey whenever she could, rather than simply being an attentive girlfriend. The heavens knew Rosalie had already accidentally provided enough ammunition for the foxgirl to think her some sort of wanton pervert. She had an image to maintain.

Then again, that she was giving so much credence to what the woman thought in the first place annoyed Rosalie. Why should her presence change anything? She found herself irritated at how easily her thoughts were getting mixed up. Delta could, apparently, annoy Rosalie just by existing. Even being asleep didn't save her.

No, she wouldn't have the foxgirl getting into her head. Zoey was Rosalie's girlfriend, and she had needs that had to be attended to. She wouldn't let Delta's presence change that. She could make whatever assumptions she wanted. Why would Rosalie care?

She slipped out of Zoey's embrace, shuffling the blanket down. Zoey was a heavy sleeper, but Delta less so, Rosalie knew. Still, she managed to get the blanket out of the way without waking either.

Leaving Zoey's cock sticking into the air, no longer impeded by pajama pants or blanket.

Heavens. Rosalie couldn't help but be shocked every time she saw the thing. It was … a lot. In a good way. It made her stomach clench just looking at it.

Sitting to Zoey's side, she wrapped two hands around the enormous member. Neither of her hands could fully close around the thing. She really would never grow accustomed to pleasuring it. Her insides clenched in anticipation—begging Rosalie to dispense with the build-up and simply mount Zoey. Why use her hands and mouth? Why pretend she was doing this for Zoey's sake—attending to her libido—rather than for her own lustful desires?

Rosalie, of course, ignored those traitorous thoughts. They were unbefitting of a Heiress to a Highguild.

She stroked up and down Zoey, marveling at the distance she had to travel. Zoey's body reacted: she stirred, her hips shifting and her breathing changing pace, but she didn't wake. Rosalie knew firsthand it took a lot to wake the woman. It was a trait that Rosalie secretly appreciated.

She leaned forward and licked at the ridge of Zoey's cockhead. A shiver ran through her as her tongue lewdly slid around, lubricating the edge. She moved up, pressing the flat of her tongue against the tip. A salty, thick taste filled her. Her lips closed over the top, and she sucked lightly, drawing pre-cum from the source, swirling her tongue around. Her thoughts started to go fuzzy, like they always did when she got her hands on this thing.

A voice made her jump.

"Now that's a fun way to say good morning," Delta murmured. "Some girls get all the luck."

Rosalie's eyes shot open, and her attention snapped to the woman—whose purple eyes sparkled with amusement, her head still resting on Zoey's rising-and-falling chest. Unsurprisingly, she had woken before Zoey. And it seemed she was trying to keep it that way; she had spoken quietly, in a whisper, even to Rosalie's enhanced senses. Rosalie had almost forgotten about Delta, somehow. Zoey's assets could be a potent distraction, scrubbing away less important thoughts.

"Though, you should spread the love around," Delta continued, her eyes teasing. "I wouldn't mind my own good morning. As my girlfriend's girlfriend, it's the friendly thing to do, isn't it?"

Rosalie eyed the woman distastefully. She contemplated how to respond, before settling on ignoring her. That was usually the best choice when it came to the instigating foxgirl. Rosalie already found herself baited into conversation far more often than she was pleased by; she needed to learn to brush her off.

She returned to working her hands up and down Zoey's cock, her lips and tongue teasing at the tip.

"Wow. Just gonna ignore me? That's hurtful." She paused. "Actually, that's fair. You'd have to get her cock out of your mouth. We both know that's not happening. You've got your priorities straight."

The implication of Rosalie's character was clear. Delta, once again, insinuating she was a pervert. Rosalie pulled off Zoey, eying the annoying woman. "I'm making sure she won't be distracted for her lessons today," she sniffed. "Your accusations are unfounded, as always."

Delta snorted. Rosalie got the feeling her excuse—the truth, she meant—hadn't been convincing.

Delta extracted herself from Zoey's arm, sat up, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then shuffled over and joined Rosalie on the other side of Zoey. Zoey mumbled in response, shifting around at another girl leaving her side, but still didn't wake.

"Don't be stingy. We can share, can't we?" She leaned forward and kissed the other side of Zoey's tip. Rosalie, after thinking the proposition over for a moment, reluctantly agreed: Delta was obviously within her rights to also help solve this problem. Rosalie returned to her own post.

Together, they pleasured Zoey with two pairs of lips. It was a rather lewd experience. Her tongue, slipping around a hot cock tip, sliding against Delta's as they sloppily shared their girlfriend's cock. Kissing, in a way, though with Zoey's member in the way.

And Rosalie got the feeling Delta was deliberately trying to get her tongue and lips bumping into Rosalie as often as possible. Rosalie tolerated it. She didn't pull away or scold the woman. It was inevitable that they bumped into each other while handling the sloppy task of pleasuring Zoey.

Rosalie certainly wasn't set on fire by the contact, or, heaven forbid, something even more ridiculous, like having a thrill run through her with the idea that it was Delta she was kissing, and across her girlfriend's cock, no less. She couldn't imagine someone who she wanted to be kissed by less. Her fluttering stomach was purely a reaction stemming from the fact she had Zoey's cock in her mouth. Or perhaps the lewd nature of sharing it with another woman. Nothing more.

Then Zoey's cock jerked to the side, and, with nothing blocking the two of them, Delta's lips pressed into hers. The woman slipped her tongue into Rosalie's mouth. Rosalie, shamefully, responded, but only because she was caught off guard: she kissed back. Even more embarrassingly, Rosalie wasn't the one who pulled away first. Delta did.

"Oops," the foxgirl said. "Sorry. It slipped."

She tugged Zoey's cock back between their mouths, grinning at Rosalie. It had clearly not been an accident.

Rosalie, her face burning and lacking any redeeming response, returned to their sloppy sharing of their girlfriend. She ignored the sparkling purple eyes watching her—and even more so, she ignored the way her stomach squirmed at the sneak attack.

Seriously. What an annoying woman.