My Taboo Harem!

Chapter 531: Absurd People

Right now Phei’s was cock nestled deep into the plush valley of her ass like the space had been waiting its whole life for exactly that invasion and she had kept it for him. The swollen head rode high against the small of her back, pulsing hot and heavy, while the rigid base ground insistently into the tender seam where her full cheeks met thigh.

Every heartbeat made his thick length twitch while nudging upward along her cleft as if it already ached to pry her open and claim what lay between.

The heat bleeding through them was pure sin and his shaft so engorged it felt like living steel wrapped in molten velvet, throbbing visibly between her sensitive ass divide.

Each slow roll of her hips dragged that fat ridge straight over her tight hidden ring, teasing the delicate pucker with every pass while her own slick — already leaking backward from all the earlier grinding — turned the slide into something wet, slippery, and downright filthy.

Fresh arousal kept trickling down her crack, soaking the front of his jean.

Phei’s breath caught low and guttural against the nape of her neck.

His arm around her torso flexed, fingers digging briefly into her ribs like he was one heartbeat away from spreading her legs apart and driving himself balls-deep into her pussy. The bicep under her cheek swelled harder; she nuzzled into it greedily, lips parting to taste the warm, slightly rough skin — salt, heat, pure male.

Neither of them spoke.

She simply kept that slow, filthy rhythm — plush ass cheeks parting around the rigid outline of his shaft, then closing again to cradle him in the hot velvet channel between them.

Every backward press made her empty core clench and flutter on nothing, fresh hot gushes of wetness dripping down to ease the slide, while his length jerked violently in answer — thickening even more, the soaked denim scorching where their bodies fused.

They were basically torturing each other.

The head kept pulsing insistently against her lower spine, each heavy throb dragging the swollen crown along her cleft in a slow torturous tease that made her tight ring flutter and her clit throb untouched between her clamped thighs.

She sighed again in a long, blissful, almost a purr moan with her eyes sealed shut, face buried deeper into the crook of his massive arm like she could disappear inside his scent and warmth forever.

Phei’s free hand finally moved.

Slow. Deliberate.

Fingers trailed down the dip of her waist, over the flare of her hip, then curled possessively around one full trembling cheek.

He squeezed hard, spreading her just enough that the thick length sank deeper into her cleft, the blunt head now kissing the base of her spine while the veined shaft dragged wetly over her leaking entrance from behind.

Elena whimpered soft and needy, hips rocking back harder, chasing that filthy pressure.

And still neither of them broke the silence.

They just lay there in the suffocating dark, bodies locked together, breathing ragged, hearts slamming in perfect filthy sync — pretending this slow torturous grind wasn’t already ruining them both.

"Mmm~"

His hand rested heavy and possessive on the dip of her waist. His shaft sat thick, rigid, and unyielding in the deep cleft of her ass — all her doing, her shameless positioning, her hips that had rolled back with the slow deliberate precision of a woman who knew exactly how she wanted that iron-hard length cradled between her cheeks.

He hadn’t thrust. Hadn’t rocked. Hadn’t done any of the things he would have with other women.

He simply lay there. Furnace-warm. Still.

Letting her take exactly what she had claimed, without pushing for more.

And he did it for a reason.

"Phei... I appreciate that you came," she said.

Her voice had stripped itself bare now — gone was the gin-laced bravado, the sharp edges of performance.

What remained was quieter, stripped-down Elena: not soft, but stripped of every mask.

Even in the dark, even naked, even with his heartbeat slamming against her spine, there was still that calculating undertone — the part of her that always watched, always measured exactly how much vulnerability to ration out before the control snapped back into place.

"I know there’s nothing between us that guarantees you’d show up when I called. No deal. No promise. No leverage. Just me burning through every card I had to drag you to this house."

She said every card I had the way someone else says good morning — flat fact, zero apology, zero shame in a casual admission of a princess who had spent years orchestrating people, rooms, entire orgies and boys to participate in them, like chess pieces on a board she designed herself.

She shifted just a fraction. His shaft twitched hard against her cleft in answer. She registered it, filed it away like ammunition she hadn’t decided to fire yet, and kept talking.

"The first time, it was deliberate. Setting up Harold. Making sure you had to come here to apologize. I orchestrated the whole thing." Not manipulated. Orchestrated. The word of someone who built situations the way generals build sieges. "And this time—"

She paused.

The air in the dark changed — not the bodies pressed together, but something colder, sharper. The pause of a predator deciding whether to bare teeth or keep playing coy.

"I don’t think I even held any real cards when I texted you tonight. But you came anyway."

A beat.

"That’s interesting to me."

Phei stayed silent.

He let her speak.

Right now, she was naming the absurdity of whatever this was between them. Not a relationship — they had no label. Not friendship — too much bare skin, too much heat. Not an arrangement — no terms had ever been discussed.

Just two people who should’ve circled each other like wolves from a distance, but instead they now lay tangled in the dark with his shaft buried in the plush heat of her ass cleft and her confession hanging thick in the air.

She laughed — small, self-aware, a little jagged.

"To most people this would be insane. Woman barely knows the boy, invites him to sneak into her house in the middle of the night. They strip naked. They cuddle. No sex. No explanation. Just... this."

Her fingers traced slow idle patterns along his forearm where it banded across her ribs — nails grazing lightly, then pressing harder, mapping muscle like she was memorizing him.

"But Legacy princesses and princes are infamous for it. Rushing headfirst into anything we crave. It’s in the blood maybe. The entitlement. The assumption that if we want something, we take it and deal with fallout later."

She paused again.

"The girls have been talking about you since day one."

Phei’s brow lifted in the darkness.

"The group chats. All princesses. Weeks of pure straightness of obsession — and then your girls... gods, your girls were like recruiters. The things Maddie and Sierra have been sharing..."

She chuckled — not embarrassed but it was instead dry amusement of someone watching data confirm a long-held theory.

"Videos, Phei. Of you fucking both of them. Together. Separately. The angles. The sounds. The way Sierra goes on about your hands, how Maddie can’t shut up about your mouth — every princess in that chat has watched those clips on repeat. Paused. Rewound. Studied."

She said it clinically, precisely — like a strategist reading intercepted intelligence like she wasn’t describing pornographic evidence circulating among Paradise’s princesses and now their mothers, with the same detachment she might use to discuss market trends or family alliances.

That was the switch in Elena that always set Phei’s instincts humming. One heartbeat she was burrowing into his warmth like she needed it to survive. The next she was this crazy psycho-like little succubus — observing desire, sex, power like specimens pinned under glass, understanding the mechanics better than the people drowning in them.

She shifted again — deeper into him, pressing her ass back so the thick shaft sank even tighter into her cleft, the blunt head kissing the base of her spine.

"What would you expect from women who’ve spent their lives surrounded by these pathetic Legacy boys, only to see perfection like yours walk in?" Her voice dropped lower. "The cock — by the gods, Phei, your cock." She said it with the fascinating voice of a specimen.

"They’ve been staring at screenshots. Replaying clips. Driving themselves crazy. And it’s not even just the sex. It’s you. The court. The way you move like the rules don’t apply. The storms you kick up in Paradise. All of it building this... myth around you bigger than any Legacy heir they’ve ever known."

She exhaled — slow, deliberate.

"Any princess would fall for you. I’ve made sure of it."

That last line dropped so casually it almost slipped past unnoticed.

I’ve made sure of it.