Chapter 651 - 650- Arrival of Viktor back to Millbrook

Chapter 651: Chapter 650- Arrival of Viktor back to Millbrook

Mira and Helena looked at each other. Mira’s green eyes were wide. Helena’s brown eyes were steady. Both women were trembling — not from fear anymore. From something else.

Mira’s perverted nature surfaced. Her lips twitched. Despite the fear, despite the army, despite everything — the idea of preparing herself for her husband, of shaving, of presenting herself — made her thighs press together beneath her dress.

Helena’s maternal calm held. She nodded slowly. Her hand found Mira’s. Squeezed.

’[’Let us show the world,’’ Viktor’s voice came through the link. Warm. Final. Carrying the weight of a man who had decided something and would not be swayed. ’’Millbrook is prepared to rise as a kingdom now.’]’

The mental link closed.

The war room was quiet. Five pregnant women stood in a circle — Mira with her tax documents, Helena with her maternal patience, Kaida with her clenched fists, Olivia with her saintess composure barely holding, Bella with her puffed tail and flat ears.

Outside the window, the town continued. Cobblestones. Lamps. Adventurers. The dungeon. The palace. The streets that had been built by hands that belonged to women whose bellies were full of the children of a man who was miles away and was coming home.

Mira looked at Helena.

"King-sized bed," she said.

Helena nodded. "I will have the staff prepare the lord’s chambers."

"And the—" Mira’s cheeks flushed. "The other part."

"The shaving," Helena said. Her brown eyes were warm. Her cheeks were also pink. "I will handle that myself. And you should handle yours."

"Me? Shave my own—" Mira sputtered. The perverted MILF in her was fighting the embarrassed woman. "I can’t reach! This belly—"

"I will help you," Helena said. The maternal tone was back. Calm. Practical. As if helping another pregnant woman shave her pussy was a perfectly normal task for a nanny.

Kaida made a strangled sound.

Olivia’s blush had spread to her neck.

Bella’s tail was still puffed.

Mira looked out the window. At the town. At the dungeon. At the distant horizon where, somewhere beyond the forest, an army was preparing to destroy everything they had built.

Her hand found her belly. The child kicked.

"We are going to need more lamp oil," Mira said quietly. "For when he arrives."

Helena smiled. The first genuine smile any of them had worn in days.

"The vessels of the night," she said. "I will make sure every lamp in the town is filled. He should see Millbrook glowing when he returns."

The women dispersed. Tasks were assigned. Orders were given. The town mobilized — not for war, not yet, but for preparation. For the arrival of a lord who was coming home to turn his town into a kingdom and his pregnant women into something stronger than any army.

In the lord’s chambers, the king-sized bed was prepared.

In a private room, two pregnant women sat with razors and hot water and trembling hands.

"Um.... by the way, what does hw menat by from receful delivery and why shave our pussies?" Helena leaned below in the spread legs of Mira, using a razor to clean her hairy cunt. She simply thought of something, lifted her head, and inquired of Mira, who was seated within the chamber casually, as she was not able to understand what purpose saving had to do with delivery.

"Hehh?" Mira blinked. She blinked again before lifting her head. Gulped. As she said.

"That’s....!?!"

Suddenly, as if her perverted mind thought of something, she moved slightly, and the razor cut a bit for her to see, making her cry and wince.

As Helena said, "Are you all right?"

But Mira simply gasped, trying to stand, holding her belly, looking down, gasping as she said.

"No. No, no, definitely not—?"

"Damn... you both look deliciously thick to fuck?" But before Mira could say something, everything that her perverted mind had calculated was processed; a voice of the man, as if engraved in their souls, trembled their body, resonating within the chamber as it came.

"!?!—V-Vik—VIKTOR~!?!"

Both women turned.

Not slowly — not with the measured grace of women who had been managing a town for weeks. They turned with the frantic, whiplash speed of women who had heard a voice that wasn’t in their heads anymore but in the room. Real. Physical. Present.

Viktor stood in the doorway of the lord’s chambers. Lean. Pale. His incubus tail swaying lazily behind him. His shirt was loose — untucked, unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His pants were dark, fitted, the outline of something thick and heavy visible against his thigh. He looked like a man who had been traveling. He looked like a man who had been fucking. He looked like a man who didn’t care about the difference.

His eyes found them. Both of them. Mira — naked from the waist down, her shaved pussy exposed, her big belly round and full, her black hair loose around her shoulders. Helena — on her knees between Mira’s legs, razor in hand, her brown bun slightly unravelled, her own belly straining her dress.

Both women were frozen. The razor in Helena’s hand dripped. The chamber smelled of hot water and shaving soap and arousal.

"Damn," Viktor said. His voice was warm. Appreciative. The tone of a man inspecting fruit at a market. "You both look deliciously thick to fuck."

Mira’s body moved before her mind caught up.

She sprinted.

Her thick frame — the wide hips, the swollen belly, the heavy tits bouncing beneath her dress — crossed the room in three strides. Helena was a half-second behind, the razor clattering to the floor, her maternal composure shattering as she launched herself from her knees.

They hit him from both sides.

Mira on his left. Helena on his right. Their bodies sandwiched him — soft, warm, pregnant flesh pressing against his lean frame from either side. Mira’s tits mashed against his ribs. Helena’s belly pushed against his hip. Their arms wrapped around him — clawing, gripping, holding, the desperate clutch of women who had been trembling in a war room hours ago and were now touching the man they had been trembling for.

Viktor’s arms came around them. Both of them. One hand on Mira’s thick ass — the pale, soft flesh deforming under his fingers. One hand on Helena’s lower back — pulling her closer, his palm pressing against the curve above her swollen cheeks.

He felt them.

Both of them. The heat of their bodies. The weight of their bellies against his sides. The trembling — not from cold, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of having him here. Physical. Real. Not a voice in their minds but a body against theirs.

The sensation hit him differently than before.

After Evriana. After Lucia. After the hours in the cave — the fucking, the absorbing, the 100x multiplier that had rewritten his power baseline — having these two women in his arms was a different experience. His senses were sharper. His body was more responsive. The incubus bloodline, supercharged by the absorbed abilities of a demon-kin woman, was reading everything — Mira’s heartbeat (elevated, 112 bpm), Helena’s breathing (ragged, shallow), the temperature of their skin (Mira warmer, Helena slightly cooler), the milk production in both women’s tits (active, heavy, ready to leak).

His hands found their bellies. Both of them. Left hand on Mira’s — round, tight, the child kicking against his palm. Right hand on Helena’s — equally round, slightly lower, the child within shifting at his touch.

Both women gasped.

"Viktor—" Mira’s voice broke. Her green eyes were wet. Her perverted nature, her sharp tongue, her MILF confidence — all of it crumbled. She was just a woman. A pregnant woman. Holding her husband.