Chapter 388: Jealousy Under The Stars

Stan’s expression softened into a genuine smile. "You two really are the best..."

Stan closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the dual sensations, the soft press of their breasts against his sides, the gentle weight of their thighs against his, the idle, affectionate caress of their hands over his chest and stomach.

The hot water and the subtle scent of the bath salts loosened every remaining bit of tension in his body.

"I could stay like this for hours," he said quietly, sincerity threading through the playful tone. "Just the three of us. No rush. No interruptions."

Maya pressed a soft kiss to the wet skin of his shoulder. "Then that’s what we’ll do."

Sophie settled more fully against him, her soft breast molding to his side, her fingers continuing their slow, contented exploration of his abs. "Mmm. Agreed. Our king has earned a long, quiet soak, and we’re not going anywhere."

They lingered in the warm water far longer than necessary, the thick cloud of bubbles slowly thinning around them.

Stan’s arms remained draped along the rim of the tub behind both women, their soft bodies tucked against his sides.

Maya’s full breast rested heavily against his ribs, the warm, slick skin sliding gently whenever either of them shifted. Sophie’s thigh pressed along his, her fingers still tracing idle, affectionate patterns across the hard ridges of his abs beneath the water.

"I could fall asleep right here," Maya murmured, her voice low and content. She turned her face slightly and pressed a soft kiss to the wet skin of his shoulder. "You make a very comfortable pillow."

Sophie smiled against his other side, her hand sliding higher to rest over his heart. "He does. Warm, solid, and he doesn’t even complain when we use him as a mattress." She tilted her head to look up at him, eyes soft. "You’re dangerously good at this, you know. Making us never want to leave."

Stan’s thumb stroked slowly along Sophie’s upper arm, then drifted to Maya’s hip beneath the water, savoring the plush give of their skin. "That’s the idea," he answered quietly. "No rush. Nowhere else I’d rather be."

Eventually the water began to cool. Sophie was the first to stir, rising with a soft sigh and reaching for the thick towels stacked nearby. She held one open for Stan as he stepped out, wrapping it around his waist before doing the same for Maya and herself.

The three of them dried each other with unhurried care, soft terry cloth sliding over still-damp skin, hands lingering a little longer than strictly necessary. Stan’s palms glided over the curves of their backs and the full undersides of their breasts as he helped them dry; their hands returned the favor, tracing the water droplets that still clung to the hard planes of his chest and stomach.

When they were dry, they padded back into the bedroom together. The fresh sheets Maya had put on earlier waited invitingly. Stan settled in the center of the large bed first. Maya immediately curled against his right side, one leg draped over his thigh, her soft breast pressed to his ribs, her head resting on his shoulder. Sophie mirrored her on the left, tucking herself close so that her body molded along his, one hand resting lightly over his heart.

The three of them lay in a warm, tangled nest of limbs and soft skin. Stan’s arms wrapped around both women, holding them close. Maya’s fingers traced slow circles on his chest; Sophie’s hand stroked idly along his side.

For a while they simply talked in low, intimate voices, nothing urgent, nothing heavy. Soft observations about the night, quiet laughter over small shared memories, the occasional murmured compliment that made one or the other of them smile against his skin. Maya confessed she still couldn’t believe how thoroughly he had worn them both out.

Sophie answered that she had no intention of letting him forget how good he had made them feel. Stan listened more than he spoke, content to feel the soft weight of their bodies against him, the gentle rise and fall of their breathing, the way their fingers never quite stopped touching him.

Little by little the conversation slowed. Maya’s strokes across his chest grew lazier. Sophie’s soft replies came further and further apart. The warm, safe press of their naked bodies, the lingering scent of bath salts on their skin, and the deep satisfaction of the night finally pulled them under.

Maya was the first to drift off, her breathing evening out against his shoulder, her soft breast still pressed warmly to his side. Sophie followed soon after, her hand going still over his heart, her body relaxing completely into his.

Stan remained awake a little longer, simply holding them, two soft, beautiful women curled trustingly against him, their skin warm, their weight familiar and comforting. The room was quiet. The only sounds were their slow, even breaths and the faint night air beyond the windows.

He closed his eyes, a small, contented smile still on his lips, and let the peaceful weight of them carry him toward sleep as well.

Stan had been drifting, the warm weight of Maya and Sophie against him pulling him gently toward sleep, when a faint shift in the air brushed against his senses. His eyes opened at once.

Across the room, Camilla stepped down from the hovering jade bed. The crystalline Qi wall dissolved around her without a sound. She stood in the dim light, crimson eyes unreadable, posture straight and composed, yet something restless clung to her.

Stan’s voice was quiet, careful not to wake the two women curled against him. "You’re leaving?"

Camilla’s only answer was a soft, sharp "Hmph."

She did not look at him directly. Watching the three of them tangled together in such easy, intimate sleep had finally become too much.

The soft rise and fall of their breathing, the way Maya’s hand still rested over Stan’s heart, the way Sophie’s leg remained draped possessively across his thigh, it sat in her chest like a stone she could not name.

Stan watched her in silence for a moment. The way she held herself, the tight set of her jaw, the way she refused to meet his eyes, it felt strangely familiar. Almost like an angry girlfriend trying very hard not to show it. With her favorability already well above eighty, the conclusion came easily.

’Is she jealous?’ A small, private smile touched his lips.

Camilla, meanwhile, forced herself to breathe. ’He has done nothing wrong,’ she reminded herself. ’Nothing at all. So why does this feeling keep rising?’ The thought irritated her more than the feeling itself. She steadied her expression and finally spoke, voice cool and even.

"I’m heading outside."

Stan said nothing. He simply watched her, making no move to stop her, offering no protest. The quiet acceptance was answer enough.

Camilla turned and walked toward the door. Despite the casual pace of her steps, not a single sound followed her, no creak of floorboard, no whisper of fabric. She passed through the house like a shadow and stepped out into the night.

The cool air touched her face. She tilted her head back and looked up at the vast, star-scattered sky, then let out a long, quiet sigh.

’It’s not like I didn’t know he has a harem... so why am I mad that they’re like that?’

The question hung unanswered in the dark. With a single silent leap she rose onto the roof, settling lightly on the cool tiles.

There she remained, perfectly still, crimson eyes fixed on the pale moon above, while somewhere beneath her, in the warm bed beside the jade bed she had just left, Stan closed his eyes again and held the two sleeping women a little closer.