Her bottom lip trembled. Her brown eyes looked up at him with that mixture of pleasure and vulnerability that hit him somewhere deep in his chest.

Viktor's cock twitched.

Not from wanting to fuck her again—though that urge was definitely there. But from something else. Something more... complicated.

'Shit. She's actually crying.'

He stared at her for another moment. At the tears. At the way her body trembled against his. At how her pussy clenched around his tail like it was trying to pull him deeper despite her protests.

Then he moved.

Viktor turned, still holding Helena against him, and dropped onto the throne.

The wood creaked beneath his weight.

He pulled.

Helena gasped as she was yanked onto his lap, her thick thighs straddling his left leg. Her massive breasts pressed against his chest, soft and warm, nipples dragging across his skin.

Then Viktor reached out with his free hand.

"Mira."

She was still standing behind him, arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders. At the sound of her name, she moved—circling around to his right side.

Viktor grabbed her wrist and 'pulled.'

"Ah—!"

Mira tumbled onto his lap, landing on his right thigh. Her own massive breasts bounced with the impact, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck for balance.

Now both women sat on his lap.

Helena on his left. Mira on his right.

Their thick thighs pressed together, sandwiching his cock between four layers of soft, warm flesh. Viktor could feel it—the heat, the slickness. Both women were 'soaked', their arousal coating their inner thighs, dripping onto his shaft.

His cock—which had been starting to soften—immediately hardened again.

"Nnh—"

Helena's hand shot down, fingers wrapping around the base of his cock where it was trapped between their thighs. She squeezed gently, feeling it throb against her palm.

But then Mira's hand joined hers.

Mira's fingers slid along the shaft, intertwining with Helena's, both women now holding his cock together. They didn't stroke. Just 'held' it. Kept it pinned between their thick thighs, feeling every pulse, every twitch.

"Husband..." Mira's voice was soft, almost reverent.

Viktor didn't respond.

Instead, he leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of Helena's neck.

"'Ah—!'"

His teeth found her skin. Not hard enough to break it, but firm enough to leave a mark. He 'bit' down, sucking the soft flesh between his lips, tongue laving over the spot.

"Y-Young Master—!"

Helena's body jerked. Her pussy clenched around his tail—which was still buried inside her—and her hand tightened on his cock.

Viktor moved to another spot. Bit again. Sucked. Marked.

Helena's breathing quickened. Her massive breasts heaved against his chest, nipples dragging across his skin with each gasp.

"Mmnh—stop—I just—ahhn—!"

She didn't mean it. Viktor could tell from how her hips rolled slightly, grinding her pussy on his tail. From how her fingers kept squeezing his cock in rhythm with his bites.

He bit lower. Found the junction between her neck and shoulder. 'Sucked' hard enough that he knew it would leave a dark purple bruise.

"'AHHHN—!'"

Helena's moan was louder this time. Desperate. Her free hand flew up, tangling in Viktor's hair, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away.

Mira watched, green eyes half-lidded with arousal. Her own hand tightened on Viktor's cock, squeezing in sync with Helena's.

And then—

"Did you just masturbate while peeping on me and Mira?"

Viktor's voice cut through the chamber.

Cold. Accusatory.

But he didn't lift his face from Helena's neck. Didn't stop biting and sucking. Just spoke between marks, his words muffled against her skin.

Silence.

Then—a soft gasp from behind the throne.

"'I—!'"

Elara.

She'd been so focused on watching—on rubbing herself through her pants, on squeezing her breast through the bandages—that she'd forgotten to stay hidden.

Now Viktor had called her out.

And she was 'frozen.'

Her hand was still shoved down her pants, fingers wet with her own arousal. Her other hand was inside her shirt, gripping her breast so tight it hurt. Her face was flushed crimson, amber eyes wide with panic and embarrassment.

"I-I wasn't—"

"Don't lie."

Viktor finally lifted his head from Helena's neck. He looked over his shoulder, black eyes locking onto Elara's hiding spot.

Even though he couldn't fully see her from this angle, he 'knew' where she was. Could probably smell her arousal in the air.

"Come out."

"'I—'" Elara's voice cracked.

"'Now.'"

The command in his voice was absolute.

Elara's body moved before her brain could catch up. She stumbled out from behind the throne, her legs shaky, barely able to support her weight.

She stood there, exposed.

Her pants were unbuttoned, zipper halfway down, the outline of her hand clearly visible. Her shirt was rumpled, one side pulled up enough to show a sliver of pale stomach and the edge of her bandaged chest.

Her face was the color of a tomato.

Viktor stared at her.

Helena turned her head, brown eyes focusing on the noblewoman. Her expression was... unreadable. Not angry. Not judgmental. Just 'observing.'

Mira's lips curved into a small smirk.

"Well, well..." Mira's voice was teasing. "Looks like someone couldn't help herself."

"'Sh-shut up!'" Elara's hands flew to button her pants, fingers fumbling. "'I wasn't—it's not—'"

"You're still wet."

Viktor's blunt statement made Elara freeze.

Her amber eyes snapped to him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

"I can smell it from here," Viktor continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "Your pussy's been dripping this whole time, hasn't it?"

"'I—!'"

Elara's legs gave out. She dropped to her knees, hands covering her face.

"'Sh-shut up... just shut up...'"

She was trembling. Not from fear, but from 'humiliation.' And arousal. So much arousal her body didn't know what to do with it.

Viktor watched her for a moment longer.

Then he turned back to Helena.

His tail—still inside her—'thrust.'

"'AHN—!'"

Helena's body jolted, a fresh wave of pleasure slamming into her. Her pussy gushed, juices running down Viktor's tail, dripping onto the throne.

"You didn't answer my question, Helena," Viktor murmured, his face close to hers. "What did you do just now?"

Helena's brown eyes met his.

For a moment, she didn't speak. Just breathed. Trembled.

Then, slowly, a smile curved her lips.

"I became yours... completely."

Her hand moved. The one holding his cock. She squeezed gently, feeling it throb in her palm.

"'Husband.'"

Helena's fingers 'moved.'

Not just holding anymore. 'Stroking.'

Her palm slid along Viktor's shaft—slow, deliberate, feeling every vein, every throb. Her thumb pressed against the sensitive underside just below the head, rubbing in small circles that made his cock twitch between their thighs.

"Hhh—"

Viktor's breath hitched. His hips jerked slightly, pushing up into her grip.

But his eyes narrowed.

"You know I'm talking about something else."

His voice was firm. Not angry, but... 'demanding.' Like he wouldn't let this go.

Helena's hand paused mid-stroke.

Her brown eyes—still warm, still filled with that wife-like affection—met his. For a moment, she didn't speak. Just stared. Like she was weighing something in her mind.

Then her lips parted.

"Will you hate me if I do not tell?"

Her voice was soft. Almost... 'vulnerable.' Like she was genuinely afraid of his answer.

Viktor blinked.

The question caught him off guard. He'd expected deflection, maybe another teasing remark. But this?

He stared at her. At the way her brown eyes glistened slightly. At how her bottom lip trembled just a bit. At the marks he'd left on her neck—dark purple bruises standing out against her pale skin.

His chest tightened.

A soft smile curved his lips.

"How can I hate you?"

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