Demonic Dragon: Harem System

Chapter 407: Foam (R-18)

The foam from the tub enveloped the room in a soft warmth, as if the time in there was slowly slipping away like melted honey.

Strax, his dark gaze softened by a rare expression of tenderness, slid the soap between his hands, creating a thick, aromatic film. His touch, initially light, traveled over Kryssia's shoulders with an almost devout reverence, as if her skin were something sacred to be explored with care.

She closed her eyes, feeling his fingers move along the contours of her arms, massaging slowly, as if every inch revealed something he had missed during battles and silences. The towel wrapped around her breasts just for decorum - a symbolic fabric, about to surrender. When his hands touched her figure under the cloth, she held her breath.

It wasn't just desire - there was something denser, a kind of primitive veneration in the way he touched her.

Strax was in no hurry. His fingers found her breasts beneath the fabric, feeling the nipples already hardening with anticipation. The soap created a slippery veil between them, and yet he felt it - the heat, the throb, the shiver that danced under his palm.

"Mnn~" Kryssia let out a broken sigh, the closest sound to a plea she had ever let out in public.

He slid along the curves of her waist, his fingers tracing smooth routes that seemed to want to decorate every relief of her anatomy. When he reached her hips, he began to explore more firmly - but always keeping that sensual touch that said: "I know you. And I know exactly where to touch."

The towel gave way, slipping to the floor with a muffled sound.

Kryssia exposed herself shamelessly, her eyes still closed, surrendered to the moment.

When Strax touched her pussy, already moist and throbbing, she arched her body slightly, as if he had triggered an ancient spell. His fingers slid in with precision, massaging slowly, awakening tremors in her from the depths of her soul.

"Ahnn~" Kryssia moaned loudly, her hips moving involuntarily against Strax's hand.

She was enjoying this, she wanted more, she wanted to feel him inside her, but he continued to tease her with light, provocative touches.

He slid a finger inside her, feeling her inner walls tighten around him.

He moved it in and out, gradually increasing the pace until Kryssia was writhing with pleasure.

Then he removed his finger and ran his hand over Kryssia's firm buttocks, caressing the soft, round flesh. She tensed when she felt his fingers caress her rear entrance, but she didn't protest. She trusted Strax to give her pleasure, no matter where he touched her.

He pressed a finger against the tight ring of muscle, feeling her resistant grip against the intruding finger. Slowly, he began to thrust, forcing his finger into the tight passage. Kryssia gasped in surprise, the sensation being new and intense. She wasn't sure if she liked it, but Strax continued to massage her with his firm, sure finger.

Soon her body relaxed, getting used to the new sensation and letting herself be carried away by the intense pleasure. Strax withdrew his finger and put more soap on his hands before massaging her clitoris again, making her moan loudly at the touch.

It was then, out of the steam-scented gloom, that Xenovia appeared. Her purple gaze burned with an impatient spark. She had been watching long enough for envy to turn to fire and desire to become need.

Without saying a word, she approached Strax from behind, her hands sliding over his firm abdomen until they reached his already rigid member. He let out a low sigh, a restrained sound, and turned partially to face her. Xenovia smiled - mischievous, teasing, sure. It was her way of saying: "I'm not just going to watch."

She knelt down with feline elegance, and her lips touched Strax's with a boldness that didn't ask for permission. He clenched his eyes shut, torn between the voracious pleasure of the hot mouth enveloping him and the growing climax in Kryssia's moans in front of him.

Even with his body being stimulated from two sides, he kept his focus. Two fingers slid inside Kryssia with a steady, increasing rhythm, his other hand finding her clitoris and stroking with almost cruel precision. The sounds she made filled the room with a raw and real eroticism.

Xenovia quickened the pace with her mouth, hands and tongue in perfect harmony. Strax could hardly contain himself. When he finally reached his limit, his whole body tensed, his fingers buried in Kryssia's hips, and a hoarse moan escaped his lips as he spilled into the kneeling warrior's mouth.

She swallowed every drop with visible pleasure, wiping her lips with her tongue before standing up with a mischievous smile.

"That was nice" she murmured... it was the first time she had sucked a man's cock, the first time she had drunk a man's semen... the first time she had done anything with a man.

Xenovia could still taste him on her lips - hot, salty, masculine. There was a new sparkle in his eyes, as if he had touched something sacred and profane at the same time. When he stood up, he slid his fingers down Strax's chest, feeling the heat pulsing under his skin, and then he looked down at Kryssia, who was gasping, surrendered but hungry.

"She still needs you," Xenovia murmured, her voice as low as a secret whispered in her ear. "And... maybe me too."

Strax didn't reply with words - he was never one for speeches. He simply took Kryssia in his arms and laid her gently on the padded edge of the bath, where the warm foam still flowed like liquid silk. His body hovered over hers, strong, protective... but there was tenderness in the way their eyes met.

Kryssia parted her lips, her eyes clouded with lust and affection. When Strax penetrated her, it was as if time stood still.

There was no rush, no brutality. Just the slow, intense, delicious glide - as if every inch of contact said "I feel you, I belong to you, I know you". Kryssia arched against him, a muffled moan escaping as he filled everything she was.

His breath was hot against her neck, the rhythm increasing, the movements marked by the primal dance between desire and affection. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, asking for more with her body, with her sighs, with her soul.

Xenovia, standing to the side, watched the fiery connection between the two of them with a mixture of fascination and restrained desire. Her fingers roamed her own body, exploring herself with the same delicacy she had seen Strax use. Her eyes never left theirs - and at that moment, she wasn't an intruder. She was part of that bond, that surrender.

Strax leaned in, nibbling on Kryssia's neck as he thrust more intensely. She tightened around him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her moans getting louder, looser, rawer. Each thrust was a promise. Each touch, a confession.

The climax came like a wave. First in her - intense, ravishing, with a hoarse cry that echoed off the walls like a prayer. And then in him - a muffled moan against her skin, his body tensing, his muscles trembling with the devastating pleasure that took them together.

For an instant, the world disappeared. All that remained were their racing hearts, their shared warmth, and their eyes locked in a silence that said more than any words.

"Now it's my turn..." Xenovia said, her voice hoarse and hungry, walking to the edge of the bathtub. She sat down naturally, spreading her legs with an almost defiant confidence. "I think I deserve to be washed just as thoroughly."

Strax looked up at Xenovia, his eyes still dark with the last waves of their shared climax. There was a glint of surprise in his gaze, a recognition that the situation had taken an unexpected, but at the same time, intriguing turn.

He slowly pulled away from Kryssia, allowing her to lean back in the tub, her skin still hot and flushed with pleasure. Then he turned to Xenovia, studying her with a new intensity. She was a fascinating mixture of boldness and uncertainty, her purple eyes burning with a spark of desire, but also with a twinge of nervousness.

With a gentle gesture, he invited Xenovia to lie down on the edge of the bath, next to Kryssia. She obeyed, her slender, toned body flexing with the movement. Strax picked up the soap again, creating a new aromatic film between his hands.

His touches began lightly, exploring the contours of Xenovia's body with an almost reverential awe. He slid his fingers along the soft skin of her arms, feeling the muscles tense under his caress. He drew soft lines down the curves of her hips, the silhouette of her ribs, the valley between her breasts. Each touch was a silent question: "Can I touch you like this? Do you like it like this?"

Xenovia responded with sighs and shudders, her lips parted in mute invitation. She wasn't a woman of false modesty - if she wanted something, she asked for it outright. But there was a certain shyness in this situation, an almost naive curiosity that made her even more attractive.

As Strax's hands explored her body, she looked at him with a mixture of fascination and insecurity. It was clear that she had never been in a situation like this before - the intimacy, the closeness, the sweet violence of desire. There was fear in her eyes, but also a thirst for more.

Kryssia watched the scene with a satisfied smile, her hand still lazily caressing her own body. She saw the connection forming between the two of them, the air becoming thicker with every touch, every sigh. It was a new dance, but no less beautiful.

Strax ran his hands down Xenovia's hips, his fingers playing with the edge of the towel she used as a cover. With a slow movement, he removed it, revealing her body in its total nakedness. She didn't shrink, she didn't cover anything. She was exposed, offered up, her eyes fixed on his with blinding intensity.

He hesitated for a moment, out of respect for her virginity. But Xenovia shook her head, in an almost imperceptible gesture, as if to say: "I want this. I want you."

And so, with an almost painful tenderness, Strax began to wash her - not just her body, but her soul. His fingers massaged, caressed and explored every inch of her with an almost devout dedication. The foam mixed with sweat, desire and the scent of warm skin.

When he reached the apex of intimacy, between her thighs, Xenovia tensed for a moment. Her whole body trembled, and she didn't know if it was fear or anticipation. Strax stroked the soft skin gently, as if he were dealing with something extremely fragile.

And then, slowly, he began to touch her - one finger sliding along her swollen clitoris, another hand holding her hips firmly. Xenovia's moans filled the room, high-pitched and surprised. She had no point of reference for this kind of pleasure, and each new touch made her shudder, gasp, squirm.

Strax took time for her to get used to it, for her body to open up to the touch. When he felt she was ready, he inserted a finger inside her, feeling the resistance of the virginal barrier. Xenovia took a deep breath, her face contracted in an expression of mingled pain and pleasure.

He continued slowly, massaging the inner walls, playing with her swollen pleasure button. Soon her body opened up to him, welcoming his invasive touch with increasingly loud and desperate moans.

Kryssia watched everything with growing fascination, feeling her own body react to Xenovia's sounds. She slid her hand between her own legs, stroking her throbbing clitoris to the rhythm of the sounds of pleasure that filled the bathtub.

When Xenovia reached the peak of pleasure, it was with a strangled cry, her whole body tensing and then relaxing in complete abandon. Strax continued to caress her gently as she came down from the waves of pleasure, her face flushed and her breath panting.

For a long moment, no one said anything. There was only the sound of panting breaths and the heavy scent of sex in the air. Then Kryssia laughed softly, stretching out lazily in the tub.

"Well," she said with a mischievous grin, "I think we all need a good wash after that."

Strax just smiled back, his eyes shining with silent satisfaction. And Xenovia, still trying to catch her breath, returned the smile - a little embarrassed, a little proud, a little hungry for more.