My Taboo Harem!

The morning light continued its slow worship outside them.

In the bathroom, across her skin more of her fabric fell away, turning every newly revealed curve into something almost sacred. Phei’s hands moved with deliberate patience, each brush of his fingers against her skin drawing a quiet response from both of them.

The simple act of undressing Melissa felt like another form of claiming — tender, possessive, and filled with the quiet reverence of a man who had already spent the night learning every inch of her and still found himself hungry to learn more.

He kissed the hollow of her throat, then the gentle slope of her collarbone, letting his mouth linger just long enough for her to feel the warmth of it. Melissa’s breathing had grown softer, slower, her body leaning into every new kiss as though the morning itself had become an extension of their shared closeness.

The robe slid further down her arms, and Phei caught it before it could fall completely, holding it for a moment like he was unwrapping something precious.

"You’re trembling, my love." he murmured against her skin, voice low and rough with affection.

"No I’m not," she whispered back, though the slight catch in her breath betrayed her.

He smiled against her shoulder, the expression hidden but full of quiet amusement. "Liar."

The last of the robe slipped free.

It pooled at her feet in a soft heap, leaving her standing before him in nothing but bathroom light and the faint afterglow of the night before.

Phei’s gaze moved over her slowly, openly appreciative, the hunger and passion for her in his eyes tempered by the deep, genuine care that always lived beneath it. He drew her closer, skin meeting skin in a contact that made the air between them feel heavier, warmer.

He kissed her again — slower this time, deeper, letting the kiss say everything words could not. Melissa melted into it, arms sliding around his neck, her bare body pressing fully against his. The contact was electric in its simplicity, a slow burn of want and love and the quiet, intimate knowledge that this morning belonged to them alone.

Phei’s hands settled at her waist, then traced upward along her sides with reverent care, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts in a touch that was more promise than demand. The water in the shower continued its soft, steady fall behind the glass, steam beginning to rise and curl around them like a private veil.

He broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against hers, both of them breathing the same heated air.

"I could stand here and look at you all morning," he said quietly, the words carrying that familiar mix of playboy charm and genuine awe:

"But I think I’d rather wash every inch of you with my hands and mouth instead."

Melissa’s laugh was soft and breathless, her eyes dark with answering warmth. "Then you’d better start, my prince. Before I decide to return the favor."

He chuckled and reached past her to push the shower door open.

Warm water cascaded over them the moment they stepped inside, turning skin to glistening silk and filling the glass enclosure with rising steam. Beyond the glass, the opulent bathroom waited in golden silence. Beyond that, the entire hotel and all its intrigues, duties, and voices could wait.

For now, there was only this small, perfect world of steam and water and the two of them.

Phei pulled her back against his chest, one arm around her waist, the other reaching for the soap. He lathered his hands slowly, deliberately, then began to wash her with the same unhurried care he had used to undress her — shoulders first, then arms, the elegant line of her back, every movement a quiet act of devotion.

The water ran over them in shining rivulets.

He took his time, letting the soap glide over her skin, his palms mapping the familiar territory with possessive tenderness. When his hands reached her stomach, they lingered there a moment longer, cradling the gentle swell with quiet reverence before continuing downward in slow, careful strokes.

Melissa leaned back into him, her head resting against his shoulder, a soft, contented sound leaving her throat as the warm water and his careful hands worked over her.

"This," she murmured while fighting back a moan from escaping her this early, "is acceptable spoiling."

Phei pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, water droplets clinging to his lips. "Only acceptable?"

"Very acceptable," she corrected, turning in his arms so they faced each other beneath the falling water.

Her hands rose to his chest, tracing the hard lines there with the same slow appreciation. She lathered soap between her own palms and began to wash him in return — shoulders, chest, the firm plane of his stomach — her touch unhurried and deliberate.

"If you keep going and doing this good and I might even say it’s perfect."

He smiled, that dangerous, heart-stopping smile and leaned down to kiss her again in a deep, slow, and full of the same quiet promise that had started their night and now colored their morning.

The water continued to fall around them in warm sheets, steam rising in soft spirals that caught the bathroom light filtering through the glass and turned every droplet on her skin into something luminous.

Outside the glass walls of the shower, the luxurious bathroom waited in golden silence.

Beyond that, the entire hotel and all its intrigues could burn for all he cared.

Right now, there was only this: warm water, warmer skin, the slow, deliberate art of spoiling the woman he loved, and the beautiful, private peace they had carved out for themselves—

—a peace the morning itself seemed content to leave untouched for as long as they wished.

He turned her gently once more so her back rested against his chest, pulling her flush against him beneath the cascading water. His hands continued their work with reverent thoroughness, sliding over her hips, down the length of her thighs, then back up again in long, soothing strokes.

Melissa’s own hands found his, guiding them sometimes, or simply resting over them as if to keep him there.

She tilted her head back against his shoulder, eyes half-lidded, and let out another soft sound of pleasure when his palms moved over her breasts with careful attention.

The steam thickened around them, a warm, glowing veil that blurred the edges of the world beyond the glass.

Phei pressed another kiss to the curve of her neck, then lower, to the place where her shoulder met her throat, his hands never stopping their slow, spoiling rhythm. Melissa turned her face toward him, catching his mouth in another kiss — slower, deeper, her body arching back into his as the water poured over them both.

For a long while, neither of them spoke:

There was only THEM, the sound of falling water, the quiet glide of hands over skin, and the steady beat of two hearts finding the same rhythm. The morning light filtered through the steam in soft, diffused gold, turning the small glass enclosure into something that felt removed from time itself — a private sanctuary where nothing existed except the two of them and the quiet, intimate act of caring for one another.

Eventually, Melissa turned fully in his arms again, facing him. She reached up, cupped his face in her wet hands, and kissed him with a tenderness that made something deep in his chest tighten. Her thumbs brushed over his cheekbones as she drew back just enough to look at him.

"You’re very good at this, Phei, my love." she said softly.

"Spoiling you?"

"Making the world feel very far away."

Phei’s smile was slow and warm. "Good. That was the plan."

He reached for more soap and continued washing her — this time focusing on her legs, lifting one foot at a time with careful hands, his thumbs pressing gently into the arches in a way that made her sigh and lean more heavily against him. When he was finished, she returned the favor, her hands moving over him with the same unhurried care, exploring the lines of his back, the strength of his shoulders, the hard plane of his abdomen.

Her fingers lingered in places, tracing old marks and new ones with quiet fascination.

The water continued to fall. The steam continued to rise.

And outside the glass, the morning waited — patient, distant, and utterly irrelevant to the small, perfect world they had built inside it.

Phei pulled her close once more, wrapping both arms around her as the water poured over their heads.

Melissa rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath the sound of the shower. For a long moment, they simply stood there, holding each other, letting the warm water wash away the last remnants of sleep and the lingering traces of the night before.

Then Melissa tilted her head back, looked up at him through wet lashes, and smiled that small, dangerous smile he loved.

"Still planning to wash every inch?" she asked, voice soft and teasing.

Phei’s hands slid down to rest at the small of her back, pulling her even closer. "Every single one," he promised. "And then I’m going to start all over again."

Her laugh was quiet, warm, and full of the same quiet satisfaction that had been in her eyes since she woke.

She rose up on her toes and kissed him once more — slow, deep, and unhurried — while the water continued to fall around them like a private blessing.

Beyond the glass, the world could wait.

Inside, there was only this.

****

A/N: A smell a threesome coming, guess who the other woman going to be?