Chapter 83: Chapter 83

“You pushed yourself hard today,” she whispered, her hands massaging the tight knots in my neck.

“I had to,” I said, closing my eyes and leaning back against the smooth marble of the tub. The steaming, herb-scented water instantly went to work on my bruised, aching muscles. “The tournament is going to be a bloodbath. And I intend to be the one holding the knife.”

Lily didn’t reply with words. She dropped the rough sea sponge onto the tiles.

“My hands are better for this anyway, Master,” she whispered.

I heard the slick sound of soap lathering. A moment later, two heavy, incredibly soft weights pressed flush against my shoulder blades. Lily had lathered her massive bare breasts with the slick, expensive soap. She slid her body down my back, using her slicked cleavage to massage the tight knots along my spine.

The sensation was incredible. The hot water, the slippery soap, and the firm pressure of her body melting away the tension of my fight with the Tomb Guardian.

“You’re very tense here,” she murmured, her wet skin sliding frictionlessly against mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her soapy hands trailing down my chest, her fingers expertly tracing the ridges of my abs.

She let her hands drift lower, dipping beneath the hot water. Her fingers brushed the base of my cock, which was already starting to harden in response to her touch.

“Lily,” I breathed, tilting my head back against her collarbone. “Emma is right downstairs.”

“I know,” Lily purred right into my ear, her voice thick with a dark, competitive thrill. “She’s probably pacing holes into your carpet, waiting for her precious fiancé. Do you want me to stop, Master?”

“Don’t you dare.”

I reached under the water, grabbed her by the hips, and pulled her around to the front.

The water sloshed heavily over the edge of the tub. Lily let out a soft gasp as she straddled my lap, her knees bracketing my hips. The hot water came up to her waist, leaving her heavy, soap-slicked breasts exposed to the cool air of the bathroom. Her pink nipples were hard as diamonds.

I didn’t waste time. I grabbed her hips and lifted her slightly, aligning my fully hard dick with her wet slit. Because of the hot water washing away natural lubrication, I grabbed the bar of soap, lathered my hand, and coated her entrance, slipping two fingers inside her to prep her.

“Ah… Master…” she whimpered, her hands gripping my shoulders.

I pulled my fingers out and pulled her down.

She sank onto my shaft with a tight, slippery squelch. The combination of the hot water and the soapy friction made her internal walls feel completely different—tighter, hotter, and intensely gripping.

Lily threw her head back, her dark wet hair sticking to her shoulders. “Fuck… you’re so deep…”

“Keep your voice down,” I ordered, my hands moving up to grip her soapy, heavy breasts. I squeezed them hard, my thumbs pinching her nipples. “Unless you want her kicking the door down.”

That threat only made Lily wetter. The sheer taboo of fucking her Master in the bath while his violent, obsessive fiancée waited just a floor below was an unparalleled aphrodisiac for the competitive Head Maid.

She began to ride me, her hips splashing rhythmically in the water. I thrust upward to meet her, the slick, soapy friction driving us both crazy. I didn’t hold back. I let my newfound Kinetic Resonance trait passively absorb the minor impacts of our bodies slapping together, turning the physical friction into a steady, thrumming buzz of energy in my core.

Splash. Splash. Splash.

“Yes, Alex,” Lily panted, dropping her formalities in the heat of the moment. She leaned forward, pressing her soapy tits directly into my face.

I opened my mouth and sucked one of her hard nipples in, biting down lightly. Lily let out a sharp, muffled squeal, her inner walls clamping down on my dick like a vice.

“I’m cumming,” she gasped, her body locking up. “Master, I’m—”

She milked me flawlessly. The intense pressure triggered my own release. I drove my hips up, burying myself to the hilt, and unloaded deep inside her. Hot ropes of cum flooded her womb, the excess leaking out and clouding the bathwater around our hips.

We sat there for a few minutes, our breathing heavy, the water slowly settling around us.

Lily leaned her forehead against mine, her golden eyes half-closed in pure bliss. “You always ruin me for work, Master.”

“You’re the one who climbed into the tub,” I smirked, kissing her wet cheek. “Now get out and dry off. We’ve kept the princess waiting long enough.”

****

Ten minutes later, I was dressed in a set of casual, dark noble clothes. The aches from my fight in the Blackwood Ridge were entirely gone, replaced by a thrumming, vibrating power in my chest.

Lily stood by the door, back in her immaculate maid uniform, completely composed.

As we walked down the grand staircase toward the main parlor, I ran my macro-strategy through my head.

Emma was a perfect weapon. Fiercely loyal, politically powerful, and completely subservient to me. But her yandere nature was a double-edged sword. If I wanted to build a proper faction—and a proper harem—I couldn’t have my fiancée secretly assassinating any woman who looked at me twice.

I couldn’t just reason with a yandere. I had to break her mental conditioning. I had to slowly, deliberately teach her that I made the rules, and that sharing my attention was simply part of belonging to me. If she accepted it from me, her obsession would force her to adapt.

It was time to start testing the waters.

I walked into the parlor.

Emma was pacing rapidly in front of the unlit fireplace, her blonde hair swishing. The moment she saw me, the frantic, manic energy vanished, instantly replaced by her radiant, angelic smile.

“Sir Alex!” she practically glided across the room, throwing her arms around my neck. She buried her face in my chest, inhaling deeply. “You took so long! I was starting to think you snuck out the window to avoid me!”

“I told you I was training, Emma,” I said, wrapping one arm loosely around her waist. “I needed a bath to wash the dirt off.”

Emma pulled back, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as her nose twitched. She had the olfactory senses of a bloodhound when it came to me. She could smell the faint trace of the herbal soap… and the lingering, musky scent of sex that a quick wash hadn’t completely erased.

Her eyes darted over my shoulder, locking onto Lily, who was quietly standing by the tea cart.

“Lily,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “Pour the tea.”

“Right away, Master,” Lily bowed.

I guided Emma over to the plush velvet sofa. I sat down, and she immediately curled into my side, resting her head on my shoulder, her hand clutching my sleeve with a white-knuckle grip. She was tense. Her yandere instincts were screaming that something had happened, but she didn’t have proof.

Lily approached with the silver tray, setting two delicate porcelain teacups on the low table in front of us.

“Your tea, Master. Lady Emma,” Lily said with perfect professional grace.

Instead of just taking the cup, I leaned forward slightly. As Lily bent down to place the tray on the table, I casually raised my left hand and rested it directly on the curve of Lily’s hip.

I didn’t grope her. I just let my hand rest there, my fingers brushing the fabric of her black skirt, treating it as the most natural, mundane physical contact in the world.

Emma froze.

Her entire body went rigid against my side. Her golden eyes widened, locking onto my hand resting on the maid’s hip.

Crack.

The delicate porcelain saucer in Emma’s hand fractured perfectly down the middle under her sudden grip.

“Oh dear,” Lily murmured, stepping back—which naturally caused my hand to slide smoothly off her hip. “The saucer seems to be defective, Lady Emma. I will fetch a replacement.”

Lily didn’t gloat. She played the perfect servant, turning and walking out of the parlor.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Emma was staring at the broken porcelain in her lap, her breathing shallow and rapid. Her mind was caught in a brutal paradox. She wanted to skin Lily alive for allowing the contact, but I was the one who had initiated it. To lash out would be to question my authority.

I picked up my teacup with my free hand, taking a slow, calm sip.

“Is there a problem, Emma?” I asked, my tone completely neutral, turning to look down at her.

Emma swallowed hard. Her hands were shaking. She looked up at me, her golden eyes swirling with a chaotic mix of jealousy, confusion, and desperate submission. She couldn’t yell at me. The physical and emotional dominance I had established over the last few days had rewired her core programming.

“N-No, Sir Alex,” Emma forced the words out, a strained, fragile smile trembling on her lips. “No problem at all. I just… held it too tightly.”

“Be careful,” I said, reaching over to gently wipe a drop of spilled tea from her lower lip with my thumb. “I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.”

Emma leaned into my touch, her eyes closing as she desperately sought my direct affection to soothe the burning jealousy in her chest.

“Yes, Husband,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

The seed was planted. It was a small, agonizing crack in her worldview, but it was there. With enough time and pressure, the terrifying, possessive yandere would learn to kneel alongside the rest of my pieces.

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