Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 955: The Battle Begins

Hands. Lips. Tongues.

Everywhere.

A tidal wave of sensation crashed over Quinlan as eight women closed in on him. In this moment, they were more like predators of the most beautiful kind than his tender little lovers. Each one devoured him with her own style, her own rhythm, her own flavor of obsession.

Aurora, ever the delicate alchemist, trailed her fingertips over the lines of his chest, whispering praises of his newest muscles built in Zhenwu. Her lips brushed over his collarbone, soft and reverent, but her hands trembled with barely restrained need.

Vex, the yandere blood bride, was anything but delicate. She approached him from the top, her teeth grazing his neck possessively, leaving hot, claiming kisses along his shoulders. Her hands roamed downward, greedy, territorial.

Lucille, the throat goat both in name and in spirit tonight, slithered down the front, her palms tracing every muscle, every line of him, leaving kisses that burned hotter than fire. Her mischievous grin widened, the bell at her neck jingling as she descended on one spot and one spot only.

With a ravenous motion, her lips parted and she claimed his cock whole, engulfing his erect “knight” in the depths of her wet mouth and the exquisite pressure of her tight throat. <For honor… and service…> she purred using the mental link.

Ayame was precise, as always. Her warrior’s hands slid along his arms, fingers squeezing his biceps, his forearms, studying and memorizing the strength that her man had gained since she last saw him. But tonight, that precision had a new edge to it, a deliberate seeking of pleasure.

Her gaze which was usually sharp with focus, now burned with a hungry fire as her lips found the pulse on his wrist, then trailed up his arm. Her slick tongue darted out, tasting his skin, drawing a trail of her saliva in the process as her body pressed closer, leaving no doubt of her great need.

Seraphiel’s elven grace betrayed her devilish intent. She straddled his thighs, hands caressing up his sides, mouth exploring his ribs and abs with maddening slowness, whispering sweet, filthy things in Elvish… things that were meant for no ears but his.

Blossom… oh Blossom. Her dogkin instincts warred hilariously with her cursed catgirl getup. One moment she nuzzled into his side with whines and needy kisses, the next she tried (poorly) to act aloof, flicking her fake cat tail with a pout… right before giving in and moving in with a royal assassin’s precision and dedication to utterly devour his exposed ballsack. Then, her flushed face hid behind her hands once she realized what she’d done.

The dog-girl repeated this exact turn of events many, many times in a very short span.

Kitsara was fire wrapped in silk. Her tails coiled around his legs and waist, anchoring him as her lips danced across his jaw, her nails scraping his scalp as she pulled his head back to feast on his throat like the sly, sinful fox she was.

And then… Serika.

Serika was last. Not because she was hesitant, but because her style was simple, primal, honest. No teasing. No games. A single hand on his chest pushed him back just enough for her to loom above, her fiery eyes blazing with that same wild heat she carried into battle.

A shiver raced down his spine. His breath caught as hands explored, tongues tasted, fingers gripped. Each woman took her claim in their own way. Some playful, some rough, some gentle… but all with the same purpose.

To show him he was loved.

Wanted.

Desired.

By all of them.

And by the stars, they would not let him forget it tonight.

But soon… Amidst the swirling storm of pleasure, Quinlan found his bearings with a primal instinct asserting itself within his very soul. He loved being pampered, but just taking it while lying down unmoving like a corpse wasn’t his ideal. He liked to be active. To give back to his women even more pleasure than they gave him.

His hands, driven by a new intensity, reached out, finding Ayame and Serika. With surprising force, he pulled them closer, bringing their lower halves near his face.

His fingers, with masterful precision born of countless battles and intimate moments, found the fastenings of Ayame’s kimono, untying it in a swift, practiced motion. The silk opened, pooling around her ankles.

Then, his attention shifted to Serika’s ceremonial armor. Despite its intricate design, his touch seemed to anticipate every buckle and clasp, freeing her lower half with an almost supernatural ease. The heavy plates clattered softly as they fell away, revealing the gorgeous tanned skin beneath.

Suddenly, Quinlan paused as his gaze dropped to their gorgeous, bare pussies. A slow, appreciative smile stretched across his lips as he surveyed the sharp contrast between the two women. “White chocolate,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on Ayame’s pale, delicate slit. Then they shifted to Serika’s darker, oozing lady flower. “And exquisite dark chocolate.”

A low, synchronized groan escaped both women at his words. But he thoroughly ignored it, way too engaged in what he was doing as a thrill ran through him. It was time for a taste test. Time to savor these delicacies as a true culinary connoisseur.

Quinlan positioned them. He lifted Ayame and Serika, one on each side, placing them atop his head. Their leaking pussies hovered mere inches apart, a breath away from touching, standing as a daring display of intimacy.

His hands settled firmly on their rounded butts, holding them steady, his thumbs gently kneading the soft flesh. Their weight was nothing to a man of his strength now, a pleasant burden if anything.

And then, his tongue flicked out.

Ayame gasped instantly, releasing a sharp, choked sound. After months of abstinence, her control shattered instantly. Her spine arched with a desperate whimper escaping her lips as her hips bucked forward, seeking the promised contact with even more closeness.

Her fingers dug into Quinlan’s shoulders, trying to find some sort of grounding effect, but it was all for nothing. She couldn’t keep it in; her legs spasmed, threatening to give out as the delicate tip of his tongue grazed her core, sending a violent shiver through her.

Beside her, Serika was a whirlwind of pure, unadulterated shock and delight. As a total newcomer to such intimate acts, her face flushed a furious crimson as her brain was assaulted by a myriad of new sensations she never thought possible.

Her breath hitched, her body stiffening for only a moment before the sheer novelty and intensity of the sensation overwhelmed her. She was utterly lost, caught between innocence and the brink of an explosive new sensation.

Just as Quinlan’s tongue swirled around both girls’ most private spots, both at once, a sudden, shared jolt arced between them. Ayame’s hips rotated involuntarily, a frantic search for deeper connection, and in doing so, her slick, hot folds brushed against Serika’s virgin entrance.

Serika cried out, releasing a raw, innocent sound, as the unexpected contact sent a fresh wave of fire through her. The shared heat and startling intimacy created a dizzying feedback loop in their brains. Both women gasped anew, their moans intertwining as Quinlan’s agile tongue flicked with intensified precision in their drenched depths, ensuring neither was neglected.

The pressure built within them, and soon, it could no longer be contained.

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