My Taboo Harem!

Delilah broke the kiss first.

She pulled back just enough for their lips to part, her breath warm and trembling against his mouth. Her eyes opened slowly, amber and glassy, and she looked at him like she was seeing him for the very first time — not the Young Dragon, not the man everyone wanted or feared, but her man who had knelt for her.

The one man who had built her a sky and asked her to belong to it, heart and soul.

Phei’s hands stayed on her waist, steady and patient, thumbs stroking the fabric of her long strapless dress where it had ridden slightly higher on her thighs. He didn’t chase her lips. He simply waited, eyes dark with restrained hunger and something far softer, far more dangerous — love.

Delilah’s fingers tightened in his hair.

She kissed him again.

This time she didn’t hold back.

Her mouth opened over his with quiet desperation that quickly bloomed into something hotter, more romantic, more hungry.

Her tongue slid deep to taste him properly this time more than before — and Phei’s breath caught in sheer surprise at the masterful skill she wielded.

She had been so innocent during their first kiss weeks ago, shy and trembling, learning the shape of his mouth with wide-eyed wonder. And now, mere weeks later, she kissed him like she had been forged for this alone — crazy good, insanely good.

Her tongue stroked against his in slow, deliberate, sensual passes, swirling in languid spirals that made his toes curl, teasing the sensitive roof of his mouth before sucking his tongue gently into the wet heat of her own with a soft, possessive pull.

She was ravenous and reverent all at once, pouring weeks of pent-up longing into every glide and suck.

It was not like they’ve not been intimate but this was different!

A soft, helpless moan escaped her throat and vibrated straight into his mouth. She kissed him like she was trying to crawl inside his chest, like every second of waiting had built into this single, burning need to claim him back — and keep him.

Her hands moved.

One stayed buried in his dark hair, fingers curling and tugging gently every time his tongue met hers but the other slid down from his jaw to his chest; her palm pressed flat over his heart before her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer even though there was already no space left between them.

She broke the kiss again.

Only for a second.

Her forehead rested against his, both of them breathing hard. Her lips were already swollen, glistening. The strapless dress had shifted with her movements, the neckline sitting lower on her breasts, the soft upper curves rising and falling with every shaky breath.

Phei’s voice was rough when he spoke. "Delilah..."

She didn’t let him finish:

Delilah kissed Phei again — harder, hungrier, more romantic in its intensity.

This time she didn’t just deepen it.

She took control of the rhythm with the confidence of a woman who knew exactly how to unravel him.

Her tongue stroked against his in slow, deliberate passes, then she broke just enough to catch his lower lip between her teeth in a sensual bite, tugging it with exquisite care before sucking it into her mouth, soothing the delicious sting with the velvet glide of her tongue.

Her eyes stayed locked on his, blazing with bold, unashamed devotion.

"I’m crazy for you, Phei," she whispered against his captured lip, voice husky and trembling with the weight of it. "So crazy it scares me sometimes. You’re in my blood, in my dreams, in every breath I take. I can’t get enough of you — never will."

She released his lip with a soft, wet sound that sent heat coiling low in both their stomachs and sealed their mouths once more, deeper, slower, more worshipful.

Another moan slipped out of her, quieter this time but no less needy, and she pressed her body flush against his, the thin fabric of her dress doing nothing to hide how warm and soft she was against the hard planes of his chest.

Her hands grew bolder.

Both of them slipped beneath the edges of his attire, fingers sliding over warm, firm skin; she explored him slowly at first — palms gliding across the hard planes of his chest, feeling the steady thunder of his heartbeat beneath her touch like it beat only for her.

The direct contact made her dizzy with want; his skin was so hot, so alive, the ridges of muscle firm and sculpted under her fingertips.

She dragged her nails lightly upward, mapping the cut of muscle along his sides, then around to his back where she pressed her hands flat against the powerful expanse of his shoulder blades, pulling him even closer as if she could fuse their bodies together.

A broken moan vibrated from her throat into his mouth as her hands continued their worship.

She touched him like she was memorizing him — thumbs brushing over his nipples, fingers digging into the firm muscle of his chest, palms stroking down the taut lines of his stomach before sliding back up again, greedy and reverent all at once; his warmth sinking into her:

It was the closest sh could sink into him.

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, voice soft but bold as she confessed what his body did to her:

"Touching you like this... feeling your skin directly under my hands, your heart racing against my palm... it makes me so hungry for you, Phei. So wet and aching. You’re so strong, so warm — I want to spend hours learning every inch of you this way."

She kissed him again before he could answer — deeper, hungrier, more romantic.

Her tongue moved languidly against his while her hands continued their exploration, sliding higher to trace the strong column of his throat, then back down across his collarbones and over the broad expanse of his chest.

She broke the kiss again only to speak, her forehead pressed to his, breath mingling.

"All I want is to kiss every part of you," she confessed, voice thick with want. "Your mouth... your throat... your chest... every single inch of skin you’re hiding under these clothes. I want to taste all of you, Phei. I’ve waited so long!"

Her hands moved again as she kissed him — slower this time, more deliberate.

Fingers splayed wide over his abdomen, feeling every subtle flex of muscle when he breathed.

She then dragged her palms upward in long, sensual strokes, thumbs brushing over his nipples again before her hands curved around his sides and pulled him flush against her. The strapless dress shifted between them, the neckline slipped lower until the warm, soft swell of her breasts pressed directly against the bare skin of his chest.

Another soft, needy moan escaped her when she felt his skin against hers. She broke the kiss just long enough to look at him again, eyes dark and glassy with emotion and desire.

"You’re mine now," she whispered, voice trembling with the weight of it and the hunger she no longer hid. "And I’m going to spend every second while we’re in this dome showing you how much I’ve wanted this... how much I love you. How crazy I am for every part of you."

She kissed him again — slower, deeper, almost worshipful.

Her tongue moved languidly against his while her hands continued their exploration without pause, sliding over every inch of his upper body she could reach — the hard muscle of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen, the warm skin of his back, the powerful lines of his shoulders.

She touched him like she was claiming him, like every caress was a declaration she could no longer keep inside.

Between kisses she kept speaking, voice breaking with want.

"I want to kiss down your throat... across your chest... lower... everywhere. I want to feel you under my mouth the way I feel you under my hands right now."

She moaned into the next kiss, the sound soft and visceral as her fingers dug gently into his sides before smoothing over his stomach again, tracing every line and plane with aching tenderness and hunger.

Her body pressed closer, the long strapless dress bunching between them as she shifted in his lap, seeking more contact, more warmth, more of him.

She broke the kiss one final time.

Her hands stayed under his shirt, palms flat against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. She looked at him — really looked — with swollen lips, flushed skin, and eyes shining with everything she had been holding back for months.

"You make me insane," she whispered again, voice barely audible but fierce with love. "And I don’t ever want to be sane again. Not with you. I love you so much it consumes me."

Then she leaned in and kissed him once more — slow, deep, and full of every declaration she had just spoken. Her hands never stopped moving, stroking, exploring every inch of his upper body with sensual, reverent hunger as she poured herself into the kiss.

And this time, she didn’t pull away.

She stayed there, mouth moving against his in endless, sensual waves, hands mapping every line of his chest and stomach and back, body pressed so close the only thing between them was heat, fabric, and the overwhelming truth that she was finally, completely his — and she was going to make sure he felt it in every touch, every moan, every whispered word of love between kisses, and every bold, hungry claim she made with her lips and hands and heart.

Phei held her tighter, surprise and love and answering hunger burning in his veins.

She had kissed first... and now she kissed like she intended to keep him forever.

He was seeing another side of Delilah he’d never seen before!

And who was to say she was done?