Everyone's a Catgirl! Ch. 332: Rice to the Occasion (NSFW) (Patreon)

Author's Note: The NSFW section is Patreon exclusive. Thank you for your support!

The moment Melody made her request for a kitten, his nerves eased, and ideas clicked into place. She’d called Tristan ‘boy’ twice, and he knew the enormous shadows he stood beneath. However, Melody was accustomed to San Island’s ‘hospitality’ as she knew it, and he needed to convince her to allow Shi Island values into the mix.

There were many lessons he’d learned at the Venicia School of Etiquette, and putting them all into play had never felt so crucial. 

“Where’s a good place for my companions to stay while we’re here, Melody?” Tristan smiled and gestured to his Party.

“The Geisha is just down the way.” She narrowed her eyes and brushed her hands over her dress. “Will this take so long that they can’t wait for you downstairs?”

Tristan shook his head. “I’m buying you lunch first, at the very least.”

Melody’s gaze was scrutinizing as she crossed her arms. “Is that necessary?”

“It is.”

“I know where the Geisha is located,” Yanni announced. “I will secure us lodgings, Tristan.”

“Thank you, Yanni,” Tristan said, though he never stopped watching Melody. The tiny flicks in her ears and tail betrayed her curiosity and her discomfort. She’d expected to be rid of him much sooner.

“We’ll see you there,” Destiny whispered and squeezed Tristan’s hand. He nodded his appreciation, and the three of them left the room.

“What charade is this?” Melody asked once they were gone.

“I thought since we both needed to eat, we could do so together.” Tristan added an easy shrug—a gesture he’d picked up from Matt that seemed to set others at ease. “We don’t need to talk about business.”

“You assume I didn’t eat shortly before you arrived.”

“Did you?”

Melody frowned. “...No.”

Tristan chuckled. “Then show me your favorite place to go. Don’t worry about the cost.”

“Even if the Bells would be better suited to kittens on the street?”

“Then we can toss Bells in the streets and eat from a street stall. If that’s what you prefer, then I will do so.” Tristan patted his [Cat Pack].

“You are an odd one.” Melody’s brow furrowed, and she plucked a stray thread from her dress. “Fine. We’ll go to Murasaki no Hana.”

“Lead on.”

Melody quickly shifted a stack of books and notes into neat piles on her desk before leaving the room and locking the door. They descended the tower in silence, and she strode headfirst into the bustling streets of Shulan. 

Despite calling him a ‘boy,’ Melody was at least a couple of inches shorter than he was, but her bright yellow hair made her easy to follow in the crowds. She wound between unoccupied alleyways and three busy streets until they came to a small pagoda-like structure with violet paper lanterns hanging from the eaves.

Inside, a young woman wearing a white kimono with purple hair tied in twin buns greeted them with a deep bow.

“Welcome to Murasaki no Hana,” she said. “It is an honor to have you again, Melody. And…” She straightened and canted her head to the side. “This is not Cailu…?”

“No. My name is Tristan. I’m here assisting Cailu from Shi Island.” Tristan had come to expect this response after the surprise across Zhuli and had learned to distill his response down to the basics. He returned the girl’s bow. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Ah! I see.” She straightened and smiled. “Two very honored guests! Will it just be the two of you?”

“Yes, Biyu, just us,” Melody replied.

“Excellent. This way, please.”

Just the layout of the dining hall felt distinguished. Tristan had peeked inside a handful of the high-end restaurants while he was still in San Francisco, and this had the same type of layout. Just eight tables with crisp white dining cloths were spaced around the dining hall, each set with four places that included a glass for wine, a glass for water, a short white ceramic cup beside them, rolled black napkins, and freshly cut purple flowers at the center of each seat. 

It was the kind of place that would have scared the hell out of him just a few years ago, but now he had the chance to enjoy it without batting an eye.

I won’t disappoint you, Cailu. I will make this work.

Only three other catgirls occupied the space besides Melody and Tristan, taking one of the tables in the far left corner while Biyu set them near a decorated wall. Sumi-e-style canvases hung in wooden black frames above them, and Karaka returned to his thoughts. It wasn’t just Cailu that he wanted to better the island for. It was Yanni, Ravyn, and Sophia. They deserved it as much as the kittens warring in the streets of Shulan.

“What may I fetch to start you off?” Biyu asked once they were seated.

“I’ll take my usual,” Melody replied. “Tristan, do you need a menu?”

“No. I’d like to try Melody’s usual, please,” Tristan said.

“You don’t know what my usual is.”

“You seem like a woman with excellent taste. I want to try your favorites.”

Melody unrolled the napkin from her utensils and laid it across her lap without meeting Tristan’s gaze. “Two of my usual then, please, Biyu.”

“Right away, miss.” Biyu bowed again and vanished behind the door into the kitchen.

“How long have you worked as Cailu’s treasurer, Melody?”

“I thought you said no business talk.”

Tristan chuckled. “Alright. Have you lived in Shulan all your life?”

“No. I was born in Kyrenia. I met Cailu there a long time ago, and he…” Melody rolled her eyes and sighed. “He asked me if I’d like to join him in Shulan. To manage his finances. There, I answered your question anyway.”

“Were you already an accountant when you met?”

“Yes. My family owns one of the largest sugar plantations on San Island, and I’ve managed their books since I could hold a pen. Thank you, Biyu.”

Biyu had returned with a pitcher of water in one hand and two bottles in the other. She set the bottles down to fill their water glasses, then filled the wine glasses and white cups in turn. Once she was finished, she took the pitcher, but left the two bottles on the table.

“You’ll have to forgive me. I know this is wine, but this is…?” Tristan pointed at the short white cup. 

“Nihonshu.” Melody lifted the cup and raised it toward Tristan in a kind of half-toast. “A rice-wine recipe taught by men to San Island catgirls many, many years ago.” She drained her glass and licked her lips.

Tristan lifted his cup and offered her the same toast before drinking it all in two swallows. Despite its chill, the drink warmed his throat and chest in his descent, finally reaching his belly and warming that, too. “Oh! That’s good!”

A tiny smile lifted the corner of Melody’s mouth. “I’m surprised you didn’t have any in Zhuli. Mistress Emberlynn devotes a section of her cellar to nihonshu.”

Tristan wanted to say how there was very little drinking to be had in Emberlynn’s estate. Ravyn had seemingly cut herself off, and the mistress herself was too sickly to enjoy anything of that nature. But he feared it coming off like gossip, so he resorted to waving it off. “Perhaps if I go back, a gentle nudge would open a bottle or two.”

“You seem persuasive enough.” Melody cupped her glass of wine in her palm and swirled it. “Her daughter was with you last time. Is she not in Zhuli?” she asked while she watched the white liquid spin.

“Ravyn stayed back to help with the estate. I guess it’s been a long time since she’s been home.”

“I see.” Melody took a sip from her glass and replaced it beside her plate. “I’m curious…” She lay both hands on the tablecloth and stretched out the single wrinkle she’d created in her movements. “My sources of news from Shi Island are…limited. How is it faring?”

Tristan licked his lips and took a long drink from his own wine glass. It was light, fruity, and a lot like the ones he’d had in the School of Etiquette. “Not well.”

“Oh?”

“The Defiled have razed towns and killed hundreds. Matt, Ni Island’s man, and I tried our best to restore two of them—Catania and Sorentina—but Cailu took our places and is working to cull the threat.” Tristan shifted uneasily in his chair. Giving Melody his whole hand was a gamble, but if this was going to work, he needed her to trust him. He knew full well the kind of light that the failure of his island painted him in.

“That’s honest of you to admit.” Melody drummed her fingers on the table. “I don’t believe even Cailu would admit his failings to a catgirl.”

“I want to fix things. For everyone,” Tristan admitted quietly. “I watched so many people die in Catania…” Jazz’s smile and the smell of her skin crossed his memory, and he winced. “No one should have to die to Defiled or hunger or inaction.”

Melody studied him in silence until their food arrived. Tristan finished the rest of his wine and tried not to squirm beneath her gaze. 

Two new catgirls delivered steaming plates of noodles and seasoned meats which were accompanied by sides of sushi, dumplings, and small salads. Biyu returned to refill their glasses and add the final touches of seasonings and sauces before leaving them to dine in silence.

“When I was a kitten, Kyrenia was attacked by a Defiled,” Melody said finally. “I lost my sister before our guards were able to kill it.”

“I’m so sorry—”

Melody raised a hand. “Apologies won’t bring her back. My point is, there will always be innocents that we lose to misfortunes in Nyarlea. It’s the way of things.” She poked through her noodles with her chopsticks. “However, I’m not against narrowing the odds.”

Tristan’s spirits lifted. Did that mean she was willing to listen to him? Still, he had a promise to keep. To assume it so early was wrong. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

The food was excellent. The best he’d tasted since he came to San Island—which was miraculous, considering the cooks in Emberlynn’s estate. Maybe it was the company. Regardless, he enjoyed his meal, and the drinks silenced his remaining anxieties. 

When the bill came, Melody reached for her [Cat Pack].

“What are you doing?” Tristan asked.

Melody’s ears flicked forward, and she glanced at him from the corners of her eyes. “I know this place isn’t cheap. I thought I’d pay my half.”

“No. I offered. I’m paying.” He dug into his [Cat Pack], extracted a pouch of Bells before she could argue with him, and then counted the total out on the table. It was definitely the most expensive meal he’d ever had, but he was not letting Melody have this one. “Now, would you prefer an inn or your house?”

The pink hue of uncertainty returned to her face as she watched him count the coins. “My house is just around the corner, if that doesn’t bother you.”

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with.” Tristan grinned as he finished adding the tip to the pile of Bells. “Ready?”

“Alright.” Melody dabbed her lips with the napkin before setting it on the table. “You’re different, Tristan.”

“Why?” Hearing his name instead of ‘boy’ boosted his confidence. He stood and held a hand out to her.

Melody took his hand and let him help her from the table. “You just…are.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He gestured to the door. “Show me the way?”

Melody nodded and led him through the restaurant and back into the streets, never letting go of his hand. Her fingers were warm and sure, with the fading callouses of someone who understood hard labor. She probably helped her family on their plantation. The light tan of her skin contributed to his hypothesis, and her golden hair and eyes were like rays of sunlight against the clouds.

It was a short distance to her house, as she’d said, and soon she let go of his hand to unlock the door. The women and kittens in the streets had thinned out considerably once they’d reached a more residential district of Shulan, and the homes that flanked the roads were well-maintained and freshly painted.

The common room was dimly lit by oil lamps that Melody twisted the keys on to bring more light into the house. Simple decorations adorned her walls, but Tristan didn’t have much time to look at them before she led him to her bedroom.

Melody looked at her four-poster bed, then at him. “I don’t know how to start this.”

“That’s alright.” Tristan closed the distance between them, sliding one hand to her lower back and moving the other to cup her neck. “I do.”

He brushed his lips against hers and stroked the base of her tail between three fingers. It was slow, gentle, and open for her response. Melody’s breath caught, and she raised her hands to his chest. She hesitantly returned his kiss and let her stomach rest against his.

“Like this?” she murmured against his mouth.

“Mhm.” Tristan nibbled her lower lip and caressed her tail again. 

“Mmh…” Her hips pressed forward, and her hands slid to his waist.

He nibbled her lower lip, then used the tip of his tongue to ask her to open her mouth. She welcomed him in, lightly mirroring his movements as he explored her. One hand continued to work her tail while the other wound into her hair. 

Searching out what made Melody tick was like breathing. Slow, methodical, satisfying. And every second that passed, he yearned for more.

His fingers journeyed through her hair until he found her ear. He ran the thin skin between his thumb and forefinger, teasing out the gasps from her throat. She struggled to move her tongue in time with his, and she whimpered when he used the opportunity to deepen their kiss.

Her skin heated beneath his touch, and her hands searched his back, uncertain where to grasp or what to hold. 

Tristan broke their kiss, reveling in her rushed breaths, and tipped his forehead to hers. “Can I take off your dress?”

Melody searched his gaze, then nodded. “H-how do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Know just how to touch me?”

Tristan released Melody’s ear and tail, shifting his hands to the zipper on the high collar of her dress. “I listen.” He slowly pulled the zipper down, letting the fabric gradually part from her bare back. “I listen for if your breath catches… I feel for how your tongue moves… I notice if”—his hands reached her hips and he let his fingertips sink into her skin; she rocked her hips against his in an immediate response, and he chuckled—“you’re trying to get closer to me.”

Melody shivered. “What is it you want from me?”

“We can discuss business later.” Tristan kissed her jawline, then her throat, peeling her dress down her arms and letting it fall to the floor. “Right now I want you.”

“I…” Melody sighed as he kissed the top of her chest, tugging down her bra straps to her shoulders. A wry laugh joined the sound. “I want to believe that lie.”

“I’m not lying.” He reached around her chest and unhooked the strap in one swift movement.

“No catgirl is special. We’re a means to an end.”

Tristan laughed beneath his breath and lowered to his knees, then hooked his thumbs beneath the lace bands of her underwear. “The same could be said for men.”

For the first time that night, Melody really smiled. It warmed her eyes and brought so much emotion to her face. She brushed her hands through his hair and watched him lower her panties to her ankles. “What are you doing on your knees, Tristan of Shi Island?”

Tristan smirked. What I do best. “Serving you, of course.” He applied a slight pressure to the insides of her thighs with his hands until she stepped out of her underwear and spread her feet. Before she could ask again, he parted her smooth folds with his tongue and slid his middle finger into her heat.

“T-Tristan! A-ah!” Melody’s fingernails raked his scalp, and her thighs quivered around his hand. “But this is—ngh—not how kittens are made!”

He hummed, hoping the sound would tease her more. She was already slick with desire, and her vulnerable skin was intoxicatingly sweet. He cradled her clit on his tongue, curling his finger inside of her in search of the delicate, pulsing protrusions. 

“You—ah… ha… P-please… R-right there,” she moaned when he found one. Tristan slid a second finger inside her and kneaded against it while drawing the tip of his tongue over her yielding lines. “That feels so good…”

Tristan reached his free hand around her hips and found her tail. He massaged its base in tandem with his buried fingers, drinking in the ecstasy that trickled down her thighs. 

Melody bent forward, gripping Tristan’s hair like an anchor. The sounds that escaped her were a mix of slurred words, praises, and moans. He kept his steady rhythm, feeling the tension build in her walls, in her thighs, in her grip. She was close.

“I-I can’t— I can’t!”

She clamped down around him, and he gasped, wishing it were more than his fingers inside her. But he guided them deeper, teasing out more ridges to caress in her climax, suckling her clit in his mouth, tearing more cries from her lips.

He waited until the strongest convulsions ceased before withdrawing. She clawed at his shirt, and he laughed, pulling it over his head while she started work on his belt.

“I need more. I need to feel more,” Melody pleaded. A thin sheen of sweat glittered beneath her breasts and over her abdomen. She unfastened the hook and ripped it from his pants. “Goddess above, what have you done to me?”

“Not enough,” Tristan replied, stepping out of his pants and boxers. “Lie down.”

Melody’s gaze wandered to his erection. Her eyebrows raised a fraction, but she moved to her bed and climbed on top of it. Tristan followed, settling himself between her legs. She wrapped her feet around his back as he positioned his shaft to her heat. With just the slightest roll of his hips, her body enveloped him without resistance.

Melody whimpered, and Tristan’s fingers dug into her hips. He closed his eyes and hissed a breath through his teeth. 

“Your face…” Melody murmured, letting her hands rest over his. “Am I…satisfactory?”

“You feel amazing.” Too amazing. She was tight, dripping, and begging him for more. Without his daily schedule, he struggled to keep the same stamina and his sensitivity in check.

“There’s more.” She wriggled her hips down, moaning as he inched deeper. “I want it all.”

He wouldn’t be able to last long like this. “Melody, if I hurt you, tell me to stop.”

She grinned. “Do your worst.”

Tristan tightened his grip on her hips, raised up on his knees, and thrust into her hard. Melody’s eyes rolled back, and her heels dug into his back. He withdrew far enough to repeat the motion, forcing the last echoes of her climax to throb around him.

Before he realized it, he was bucking against her with all his strength, renewing her cries and pounding against the spots he’d coaxed with his fingers. His hands moved from her hips to her breasts, pinching and kneading her nipples with his thumbs. She was truly a work of art.

“I’m coming,” he growled in warning.

Melody leaned forward, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him, thrusting her tongue between his lips and tasting him as he climaxed.

Tristan wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly, letting his gasps free inside of her mouth, and stealing her breath as he needed. He was dizzy with her skin, her taste, her smell. The pulse of her second orgasm dragged out every last drop he had to offer her, and still she stayed.

He let himself vanish inside of her kiss and melt inside her embrace for as long as she allowed. The adrenaline in his ears quieted, his pounding heart slowed, and he softened enough for her to wiggle her hips away. She moved to sit cross-legged in front of him, tail wrapped around his thigh.

When did she wrap her tail around my thigh? He usually kept control of himself in every second of intimate encounters. At some point with Melody, he’d lost it.

Melody touched his cheek and studied him for a time. Then, she smiled, giggled, and brushed his hair behind his ear. “Alright, Tristan. Let’s hear your proposal.”