My Taboo Harem!

For a moment, everyone forgot Sienna.

That was impressive.

Borderline impossible, honestly.

The birthday girl stood there in starlight and ice-blue divinity, dressed like a reluctant winter goddess who had been bribed into public beauty and was already considering legal retaliation. Sienna had held the room by its throat only a breath ago. Her gown, her glare, the Vice Principal’s bow, the word Goddess, the strange gift she kept by her side instead of handing away like the others, all of it should have remained the center of gravity.

But when that woman entered, the hall’s attention betrayed itself.

Even Phei forgot, for a heartbeat, the mystery between Sienna and the Vice Principal.

His gaze moved to the slim beauty walking into the black-silver birthday hall, and recognition struck him with the warmth of old frustration:

"Dravenna," he whispered to himself.

Dravenna Ashford.

The Dean; she heard him.

Or perhaps she simply felt the way his attention landed on her. Her jade eyes slid toward him briefly, sharp and cool and devastatingly amused. A flicker of interest registered there, not enough for the room to catch, but enough for Phei.

Then she looked away again, returning her attention to Sienna as if she had not just reached into an old unfinished corner of his pride and twisted the handle.

Phei shook his head faintly.

’She really is beautiful.’

Slim. Tall. Silver-haired. Jade-eyed and the elegant in a way that looked calm until one noticed how deliberately provocative the calm was.

And tonight, she had chosen violence through fabric.

The gown was ivory long and Grecian, cascading around her body in countless delicate pleats that seemed to move with every breath she took. It crossed over one shoulder in an asymmetrical sweep, fastened there by intricate gold filigree, then wrapped diagonally across her chest and torso in a way that made the silk look less worn than poured over her.

Phei’s eyes locked on her the moment she appeared and already half-hard from the sheer shameless hunger clawing up his spine remembering how he’d explored that veery body in her office and she’d let him and explored him too, going as far as pumping and handjobbing his cock!

And here she was!

The ivory material shaped itself to her breasts with precise, unyielding closeness—firm, round, and high rather than excessive big—cupping the soft curves so exactly that each quiet breath became a visible rise against the gold-edged folds.

Fuck, he wanted to tear that silk open with his teeth just to watch those perfect tits bounce free.

Something he’d not managed to do back then!

The dress held her breasts with sleek, soft pressure, not revealing too much and yet somehow making every hidden curve more dangerous because imagination, cursed little artist that it was, was forced to work harder.

And Phei’s imagination was already painting her nipples stiff and wet under his tongue while she still walked like a goddess who hadn’t noticed the predator staring.

He traced with his eyes; the tapered line of her torso with the same ruthless elegance, following the narrow span beneath her ribs and the soft lift of her bust without a single idle crease.

Her waist was the real cruelty.

The dress carved around it with impossible precision, exposing one side of her body in a bold sweep that left smooth skin bare from beneath her ribs to the high curve of her hip. It made her waist look narrow enough for Phei’s hands to ruin, while the ivory folds gathered at her hip beneath another golden ornament and pulled the eye down to the seductive flare of her figure.

His fingers twitched at his sides, already measuring how easily that waist would break under his grip while he fucked her raw against the nearest wall the way he was planning to tonight.

Slim did not mean fragile on Dravenna. Slim on her meant dangerous lines. A body drawn with deliberate confidence, every curve placed exactly where it needed to be to make restraint feel theatrical.

Phei had never cared for restraint.

He wanted to ruin the theater.

The slit of her dress opened high along one sculpted leg, revealing pale, flawless skin with each graceful stride.

Dravenna walked as if time existed to make room for her.

Every step made the silk part, flash her thigh, then fall back into place like it had never been indecent at all. His cock throbbed hard and shameless at the sight, lust for his dragoness flooding him so thick he almost groaned out loud.

He wanted that leg hooked over his shoulder while he buried his face between her thighs and made her forget she was a princess. Her back was nearly bare beneath the fall of silver hair—an unbroken length of pale skin left completely open from the clean line of her shoulders to the low sweep of her waist, framed only by the drifting ivory and the translucent train that trailed behind her like mist after a goddess.

Phei’s gaze dragged down that bare spine like a brand, reckless and hungry, already deciding he would leave bite marks all the way down until she was shaking.

The lights floated with effortless majesty, catching black, silver and violet light from the hall and turning it softer around her.

Gold details at her shoulder and hip glowed against the ivory, making her look like she had stepped out of some ancient temple where beauty had once been worshipped honestly before people invented politics and ruined everything.

Phei watched her like a young dragon who had already decided the temple was his to desecrate.

She made the princesses jealous.

Not because they were not beautiful, that would have been absurd because the room was full of beauties who could have started wars by standing near balconies at the wrong hour.

But Dravenna’s body carried a kind of impossible elegance and beauty like she was goddess Athena herself that bordered on unfair, almost insultingly sculpted, the slim sensuality that made other women silently reevaluate their own wardrobes and men forget that breathing was a required activity.

A few of the men did forget, only briefly, then survival instinct returned.

They knew their place.

No one stared too long; no one with a functioning future, anyway.

The Vice Principal, standing near Sienna, lifted one hand and facepalmed at the dramatic Dravenna.

Phei saw that too.

Interesting.

Dravenna reached Sienna and gave a joking bow, graceful enough to look sincere and mocking enough to be Dravenna.

Sienna rolled her eyes.

"You are late," Sienna said.

Dravenna smiled and offered her gift. "I arrived when the room was ready for improvement."

"It was better before."

"Liar, Goddess, liar."

Sienna took the wrapped gift but this one, like the Vice Principal’s, she did not hand away to be taken with the others and tucked it at her side.

Phei noticed.

Again.

His curiosity, already nosy and badly trained, sat up like a beast smelling blood.

The princesses watched Dravenna with confusion and interest. Jade’s eyes narrowed delicately, Elena remained composed, but her gaze sharpened with calculation. Maddie, naturally, looked delighted enough to be banned from delicate situations on principle.

Even Eira, unseen by almost everyone, had floated closer.

But Phei was still looking at Dravenna.

And the more he looked, the more vivid everything became:

Her office, the quiet danger of being alone with her, that brutal little battle of desires where she had dragged him straight into raw, throbbing lust and the absolute expectation of fucking her, then she denied him ending inside her like a woman personally trained by cruelty and perfect timing.

His pride had not forgotten. His body certainly had not. He remembered exactly how close she had let him get.

How calmly she had stepped back from the edge. How she had left him aching with a promise that she would call him!

She had not called.

The fucking audacity.

The sheer, polished, jade-eyed audacity.

And the cruelty of the dress was that it reopened every page of that office at once.

He remembered the exact give of her waist under his hands before she had stepped back—soft, warm, already yielding—and now that same waist walked through this hall bared to the ribs, ivory parting around it like the silk itself was taunting him on her behalf.

He remembered the precise heat she had let him climb toward, the way her body had started answering his, the wet promise of her, and the precise, surgical calm with which she had denied him the summit. His palms remembered before his pride did—the way something nearly woken in them that afternoon, hungry and ready to claim, only to be told, by her, to wait.

Weeks of waiting.

The dragon did not enjoy being kept on a leash he had not agreed to wear.

Was it the dress awakening the memory? Her beauty? The way the silk made her exposed waist look like an open challenge?

The ego wound of being promised and discarded?

Or all of it together, rising now in the hall as he watched her stand before Sienna, ivory and gold wrapped around a body made to tempt better men into poor decisions—and made to drive him, specifically, half-mad with the need to finish what she had started?

Whatever it was, it woke inside him.

Slowly.

Dravenna turned slightly as she greeted Melissa and Melissa smiled, Dravenna smiled.