My Taboo Harem!

His mouth never left her throat not even for once, as he traced slow, open-mouthed kisses turning to lazy sucks that pulled fresh blooms of color beneath her skin, marking the elegant column with faint rose petals of possession.

Each pull of his lips drew another sweet, trembling moan from her, the sound rising higher, softer, more desperate with every heartbeat.

His goddess writhed gently in his lap, her slim hips rolling in tiny, instinctive circles that dragged her soaked silk panties across the rigid length of his cock trapped beneath his clothes and the friction of it all was maddening… almost barely-there and just enough to make the inner walls of her pussy flutter and clench on nothing.

Phei’s hands—still reverent, still trembling with the effort of control—slid from her narrow waist downward.

His fingertips ghosted over the bare strip of her exposed stomach.

The touch alone was enough.

No pressure and demand… his finger were just doing the lightest brush of his gentle strong hands against that impossibly smooth, warm cream expanse—skin so soft it felt like touching heated silk poured over living light.

The contact sent a visible shiver racing through her entire body; her spine arched harder, pressing those high, perfect breasts forward until the thin crop top strained, nipples scraping visibly against ribbed fabric.

She whimpered softly in a sweet, high, broken voice, her head falling back against his shoulder as her thighs quaked around his.

“Phei…” His name from her throat was a plea wrapped in a moan of pleasure.

His goddess trembled harder in his lap now—every slow, reverent glide of his fingertips across her divine, impossibly flawless skin sending fresh, electric shockwaves ripping through her slim, ethereal frame.

The lightest brush along that exposed stomach where her skin was so satin-smooth it felt like touching heated moonlight—had her inner walls spasming violently, clenching down on aching emptiness so hard she could feel the deep, rhythmic pulse throb all the way up to her clit.

Thick, slow rivulets of wetness heat leaked from her divine pussy in glossy strands, soaking her silk panties completely translucent and seeping through to darken the denim beneath her in wet, spreading blooms.

She couldn’t stay quiet anymore. Her voice—high, crystalline, already fracturing into sweet sobs—spilled out like prayer and desperation fused.

“Phei… please…” The words cracked like thin ice as she couldn’t hold back anymore any of her words and pleas. “Touch me more… gods, I need it… I need your hands everywhere on me… I’m burning… I’m aching… please don’t make me wait anymore…”

He obeyed her plea without haste his fingertips tracing lazy, torturous circles around her tiny, perfect navel, then dipping just beneath the cropped hem again, sneaking higher under the thin silk until the feverish warmth of her underbreast enveloped his knuckles like velvet fire.

The very tips grazed the tender swell in a feather-light, almost not-there trace and her entire body seized as though struck by divine lightning.

A sharp, keening cry tore from her throat—high and sweet and utterly wrecked.

“Ahh—! Yes—there—gods, Phei, please don’t stop—don’t tease me like this—I can’t—I can’t breathe—I can’t take it—please—please—touch me properly—”

Her hips jerked forward on pure instinct, grinding her drenched pussy harder against his thigh.

The soaked wetness made wet, obscene squelch-squelch sounds with every frantic roll. Fresh arousal gushed out—hot, slippery, thick—coating his jeans in glossy, shining streaks that caught the city lights like liquid starlight.

One slender hand—shaking, frantic—caught his wrist again and yanked it higher beneath her top until his palm finally cupped the perfect, high, impossibly firm weight of her breast. The stiff nipple stabbed into the center of his hand like a burning ruby, already so swollen it throbbed against his skin.

She sobbed his name—raw, broken, reverent.

“Phei—please—squeeze it—pinch my nipple—make it hurt just a little—gods, I need to feel you—please—please—fuck—yes—yes—hurt me sweetly—claim it—”

He flexed his fingers—gentle at first, then firmer—kneading the soft, taut flesh with slow, possessive rolls while his thumb finally dragged deliberate, maddening circles around the swollen peak.

Each pass sent white-hot lightning straight to her clit and her thighs quaked uncontrollably, ass cheeks clenching and releasing in rhythmic spasms that made the round, perky flesh jiggle and bounce softly against his lap.

Her other hand seized his free wrist—guiding it downward with desperate, trembling urgency—past the devastating, god-carved cinch of her waist, over the divine V-cut that framed her mound like sacred, living architecture.

Those lines were not mortal muscle; they were pure celestial geometry—soft, satin-shadowed, impossibly elegant dips of light and perfection converging toward her swollen cunt, every inch radiating divine heat.

She pressed his hand flat against her pussy mound—hard—letting him feel the feverish, pulsing heat, the plump, puffy outer lips throbbing beneath drenched silk, the rigid clit standing proud and visibly pulsing against the transparent fabric like a tiny, desperate heartbeat.

“Touch me there—please—Phei—rub my pussy—feel how fucking wet I am for you—how much I’m dripping—just for you—gods.

“I have been feeling so empty today—please—finger me—stretch my tight little cunt—make me come—make me squirt all over your hand—I’ll do anything—anything—please—please—ruin me—claim me—fuck—I need your fingers inside me now—now—PHEI—!”

Her voice rose to a shattered wail on his name—raw, needy, shameless—hips bucking in frantic little thrusts against his palm.

The silk was utterly drenched—clinging like a second skin, outlining every perfect fold: the fat, swollen clit hood, the puffy lips parted just enough to show the tiny, winking entrance already weeping thick, creamy strands that stretched and snapped with every grind.

Her ass rolled harder—sinuous, hypnotic circles—round cheeks bouncing softly against the iron-hard length of his cock with every desperate movement, the motion riding her skirt up completely now, exposing the full, glistening lower curves and the slick, shining cleft between them.

A single thick bead of her arousal trickled slowly down the crack—glossy, obscene—coating the tight, flushed pink pucker of her asshole before dripping in a long, sticky rope onto his jeans.

Phei groaned—deep, feral, almost pained—his cock throbbing viciously beneath her, the swollen head leaking thick, hot ropes of precum that soaked through denim and smeared in glossy streaks across her rolling ass cheeks.

“Fuck… my goddess… listen to you begging so fucking pretty… so desperate… so mine…”

He pressed two fingers against the soaked silk—rubbing slow, firm circles directly over her clit through the fabric—while his other hand pinched her nipple harder, rolling the stiff, burning peak between thumb and forefinger with just enough pressure to make her vision white out.

She shattered into sound—voice climbing to a continuous, sobbing wail.

“YES—! There—right there—don’t stop—oh gods—Phei—I’m gonna come—I’m gonna come already—please—harder—rub my clit harder—make me squirt—make me soak you—drench you—please—please—fuck—yes—yes—PHEI—!”

Her thighs clamped around his hand—trembling violently—back arching so sharply her high, perfect tits thrust forward, nipples scraping silk like desperate little points. A fresh, hot flood of her love juice gushed out—messy, forceful—saturating his palm, dripping in thick rivulets down her inner thighs, puddling on his jeans in warm, glossy pools.

She sobbed—loud, continuous, voice cracking on every syllable—hips chasing his fingers in frantic, greedy rocks.

“More—please—inside—put them inside me—I need to feel you stretch my pussy—fill my tight little hole—fuck me with your fingers—make me scream your name—please—please—I’m yours—yours—please—take it—take me—PHEI—!”

Her begging poured out like sacred filth—sweet, high, utterly broken—every word dripping with total surrender, every syllable a raw, trembling plea for the ruin only he could deliver.

And still—he held the edge.

Teasing. Worshipping. Drawing out every desperate cry, every violent tremble, every fresh gush of her divine slick—because his goddess deserved to beg until her voice splintered and her perfect, divine body shook itself to pieces.

Only then would he finally give her everything.