My Taboo Harem!

Unlike the first nights of their arrival on the island, tonight the moon had abandoned the skyline entirely, leaving the heavens in what felt like a disgraceful betrayal. Only a sparse scattering of stars remained above; they were like some brave little things trying their best to inherit a kingdom that had never belonged to them in the first place.1

They glittered beautifully, yes, but there were levels to majesty, and the moon had always been a celestial tyrant difficult to replace.

Still, the rooftop did not suffer for the absence:

Where the sky had failed, the Young Dragon had compensated shamelessly.

Soft constellations of black-and-white light floated around the rooftop in suspended clusters, each one shaped from his power and arranged with infuriating precision; they drifted above and around the vast open space like obedient stars stolen from some private heaven and taught better manners. The romantic glow did not come from the hotel’s rooftop lights at all tonight but from him and his Void-Ice essence; from that ruinous boy who had apparently decided ordinary romance for his cousin was for ordinary men and had built his own night for her instead.

And at the center of that private night stood the girl who had shared his bed, his breath, her first time, her with his body for hours until time itself had gone soft around them.

Delilah had been asleep in his arms before that — naked, warm, and boneless with satisfaction, draped against him while the starry beauty above reflected itself in her half-lidded eyes every time she stirred.

Those eyes had inspired much of what he had created tonight, and now, after hours of sweating, fucking, teasing each other, tangling, losing themselves in that beautiful sinful union which neither of them cared to condemn, and her restlessly asking him to promise her a threesome with her mother when she asked him, now she was before him with the faint languid weakness of a woman thoroughly loved and not at all sorry about it.

Her hot developed curvy body still carried the soft afterglow of everything they had done. Her skin held the faint sheen of their dried sweat, their cum and pleasure. Her heavy breasts rose and fell with slow, satisfied breaths, Delilah’s plush thighs pressed together with the faint, delicious soreness she refused to hide while her round ass and wide hot hips swayed with that lazy, well-fucked grace that made Phei’s chest tighten every time he looked at her.

Phei looked at her, laughed softly, and rested one hand at her waist. "You know I can get you you dress," he said, voice still roughened by everything they had just been doing, "It is perfectly fine. It’s beautiful too."

She narrowed her eyes at him at once.

That expression alone nearly made him laugh again.

"And why," she asked with dangerous calm, "should I wear the same thing when you are clearly planning to change into something new with your powers?"

Phei blinked, then placed a hand against his chest like a man publicly accused of tax fraud. "Are you calling me stingy?"

"Yes."

"So direct."

"Because you’re."

He looked at her in disbelief. "The last few hours suggest many things about me, princess, but stingy should not be one of them."

He laughed seeing her colored cheeks.

Her mouth twitched.

"That," she said, refusing to look flustered even while failing beautifully, "is not what I mean."

"Ah~" Phei nodded with grave understanding. "Then please enlighten me. I would hate to remain misunderstood in my own rooftop paradise."

She gestured around them with a small annoyed wave, though the wonder in her eyes kept ruining the force of it. "You used enough power to create all of this. The lights, the stars, the atmosphere, the whole ridiculous fairytale. And yet you’re standing there looking completely unbothered. So don’t tell me conjuring one dress on me costs some tragic fraction of your power than any of this cost ya."

Phei stared at her for a second and then his smile turned slow amusedly.

"And what," he asked lazily, "do you even know about powers?"

She gave him an unimpressed look only beautiful women and people too used to getting away with insolence could produce. "Enough."

"Very informative."

"Enough," she repeated, "to know that whatever you used for this little romantic ambush clearly did not tire you at all."

He laughed then, bright and warm, the sound carrying into the artificial starlight around them. "You really are adorable when you start sounding knowledgeable."

"I am knowledgeable."

"Of course you are."

"I heard that tone."

"The respectful tone?"

"It was a disrespectful respectful tone."

"Blasphemous accusation," Phei said but he snapped his fingers anyways.

At once, Void-Ice essence bloomed around her and unfurled into black-and-white brilliance that spiraled upward from the floor in soft luminous ribbons, cold without cruelty, elegant without harshness, wrapping around her body with the fluid intimacy of silk and snowfall combined.

The essence kissed her skin in drifting crystalline currents before knitting itself into fabric, shape, and design.

She gasped.

Not because it hurt; because of how beautiful it was.

The dress formed around her in layers of exquisite black and white, the contrast so sharp and harmonious it looked almost ceremonial. The bodice embraced her thick, curvy figure perfectly, sculpted close with a sovereign grace that flattered every line of her body — the generous swell of her firm big and round breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her wide hips. Pale white accents curved through the darker fabric like frost threading through midnight; delicate crystalline detailing shimmered along the neckline and waist, catching the floating lights.

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The lower half fell in smooth elegant lines that moved with soft aristocratic authority, neither too extravagant nor too simple, but precisely balanced between ethereal beauty and refined luxury. It looked like something dreamed by winter and tailored by obsession.

She looked down at herself in stunned delight, fingers skimming the fabric.

"Oh..."

Then she looked up at him, eyes bright. "It fits perfectly."

"Obviously."

Her hand moved across the dress again, reverent now. "This is exactly what I would want to wear on a certain someone’s birthday."

Phei’s mouth tilted. "That was kind of the point."

She looked at him again, then back at the dress, then at him once more with dawning suspicion. "It feels like you just pulled something straight out of your fever dreams. Like this is exactly what you want your women to look like; even this slit too."

He placed a hand over his heart. "You know me so well."

That earned him a grin.

Then she ran into him again, arms wrapping around him with surprising speed as she pressed herself to his chest and laughed softly against him.

"From now on," she declared, "I am never buying dresses for any occasion again. I have the best stylist."

Phei made a wounded face so theatrical it deserved an audience. "Behold my fall. One who will be feared across realms; now reduced to personal wardrobe assistance."

She leaned back just enough to narrow her eyes at him again. "Are you seriously complaining about taking care of your women?"

He straightened instantly. "Blasphemous. I wouldn’t dare."

"I thought so."

"History will remember this slander."

"History will survive."

He sighed like a mistreated emperor, but let her take his hand anyway. Her fingers slid easily between his, and she gave his arm a small tug.

"We should get going," she said. "At this rate we’ll be late."

Phei did not move.

Instead, he looked down at himself.

Then back at her.

"Do you realize," he said with solemn dignity, "that I am currently naked?"

She blinked once.

Then, with a cute pout that did not belong on a woman who had just spent hours undoing his sanity, she spread her arms toward him without shame or hesitation.

"I’m sore," she informed him. "A certain dragon ravaged me quite thoroughly, and now I cannot walk properly. So can he carry me?"

Phei stared at her.

Then laughed, low and helpless, before leaning forward to steal a kiss from her mouth. "You’re unbelievable."

"And yet," she murmured against his lips, "still your problem."

"The greatest tragedy of my life."

"Liar."

"Completely."

He snapped again.

This time, Void-Ice and Primordial Blood essence wound around his own body in a swift sovereign rush, dressing him in deep black and white attire touched by the same cold opulence as hers — refined, princely, quietly devastating. Then, without giving her time to say anything clever, he bent and swept her up into his arms.

She yelped softly, then immediately curled into him with satisfaction, her thick thighs draped over one of his arms, her head resting against his shoulder.

"There," Phei said, adjusting her weight against his chest. "The dragon has acknowledged his crimes and is now providing transport."

She smiled against his shoulder, pleased in that dangerous way women were when they knew they were being indulged properly. "As he should."

"As he must," Phei corrected grandly, and started toward the way down, carrying her through the star-lit rooftop like the night itself had given up resisting them.

The floating lights drifted after them like loyal attendants, casting soft black-and-white glows across her new dress and his princely attire. Her body felt warm and heavy in his arms — the pleasant weight of a woman who had been thoroughly claimed and was still glowing from it.

She nuzzled closer, voice soft and teasing against his neck.

"Next time," she murmured, "make the dress even shorter. I want to grant you easier access into my pussy cuz, when you decide to ruin me again."

Phei’s laugh rumbled through his chest as he carried her down the stairs, the artificial stars following them into the night.

"Careful what you wish for, princess," he said, voice low and full of dark promise. "I might just take you up on that."

She only smiled, eyes closing in contentment as he carried her away from their private heaven.

The night was far from over.

It was time for someone’s birthday!

Maya comes back and the moon disappears, huh, can’t be more subtle