Chapter 166

Tessa leaned against the mirror, one hip out, her reflection doubling the tease. She wore a pastel maid outfit gone completely rogue—white satin bralette with ruffled edges, tied with baby-blue ribbons that strained against her chest. The matching skirt was a joke, barely reaching mid-thigh, with layers of lace petticoats underneath that puffed out like a tutu. Thigh-high stockings with little blue bows clipped to garters hugged her legs. Her hair was in twin buns, topped with a tiny maid cap that sat crooked on purpose. A choker with a silver bell jingled softly when she moved. She twirled, the skirt flaring high enough to flash the lace beneath.

"Maid, but make it slutty," she said, voice sugary sweet, batting her lashes. "I’d serve tea... or something else."

Nala stood beside her, arms crossed under her chest, pushing everything up. She wore a silver bodysuit—metallic latex that caught every light, cut high on the hips, plunging neckline down to her navel, the material clinging like liquid metal. The back was open, crisscrossed with thin straps that framed her spine. Thigh-high chrome boots with stiletto heels made her tower. Her hair was slicked back, wet-look, and a pair of holographic glasses rested on her nose, projecting faint blue grids. A long, flowing cape in electric blue hung from her shoulders, embroidered with glowing circuit patterns that shifted and pulsed.

"Cyber-CEO," she said, smirking, adjusting the glasses. "I run the future. And I look damn good doing it."

Minne stood slightly apart, almost hidden in the shadow of the mirror, her reflection small and hesitant. She wore a long, oversized black trench coat—unbuttoned, revealing a black lace bralette and matching boyshorts underneath, the lace delicate against her pale skin. The coat was torn at the sleeves, frayed at the hem, giving her a rough, lived-in edge. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, held with a single chopstick that looked ready to fall. Combat boots, scuffed and heavy, grounded her. A fake tattoo of a dragon curled up her arm, visible when the coat shifted. She looked like she’d walked out of a gang hideout in a dystopian future, all sharp edges and quiet danger.

I stood in the center, barefoot, wearing nothing but a tattered white shirt—ripped at the sleeves, stained with fake blood—and a long, flowing black cape that pooled on the floor. The shirt hung open, revealing my chest, the fabric rough against my skin. My hair was messy, eyes shadowed with liner. I looked exactly like the protagonist from The Hooligan Days—the brooding anti-hero with a heart of gold and a body count.

Tessa sauntered over, hips swaying like she was walking to music only she could hear. She pressed close, one hand sliding down my chest, fingers brushing the front of my pants, tracing the outline through the fabric. She leaned in, lips near my ear, breath warm. "You look edible."

Minne’s eyes flicked over—then immediately away, cheeks flaming red. She stared at the floor like it had personally offended her, hands clasped tight in front of her.

I caught Tessa’s wrist gently, kissed her on the lips—quick, firm, but with heat. "Not the time."

Tessa pouted, stepping back with a dramatic sigh, hands on hips. "Tease. You’re killing me."

I turned to the group, clapping once to get their attention. "Alright. Tomorrow—anime convention at Café Nexus. They’re doing a cosplay quiz. We go as a team. Questions about our characters—backstory, powers, relationships, the works. If we win, we get rewards. Gift cards, limited-edition figures. Oh, and..."

I walked to my backpack on the chaise, unzipped it with a slow rasp, and pulled out five folded sheets of paper, each one crisp and white. I handed one to each girl, making sure our fingers brushed.

"...your character’s written here. Full dossier. Backstory, personality, key quotes, weaknesses, even favorite foods. Memorize it. Live it. Breathe it. If we win the quiz, I’ll surprise you with my magic fingers."

Tessa’s eyes lit up like I’d offered her a million dollars. "You’ll massage us?"

"Yup. Full body. Deep tissue. Happy endings optional."

"Fuck yes!" Tessa pumped a fist, jumping in place, her skirt bouncing. "I’m memorizing this tonight."

Minne took her paper with both hands, eyes wide and serious. She whispered to herself, voice barely audible over the hum of the AC. "Master asked me to memorize this. I shall forget my name and become... Rika ’Razor’ Sato."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Come on now. You have less than twenty-four hours. Memorize, girls. Or... be prepared for my wrath."

Jasmine smirked, twirling so her cape flared. "Scary. Almost pissed my pants... or my skirt, I guess. What am I even wearing? This thing is basically dental floss."

"We will not go to the convention with these clothes, of course. Don’t worry. These cosplays were... well, uh, for me to see only."

"Jealous much?" Tessa smirked, nudging me on the shoulder.

"Yes." I replied curtly.

Tessa got surprised, then shook her head. "Caveman. But I like it when it’s you."

We laughed—loud, easy, the sound filling the room, bouncing off the mirror and the high ceilings. Kim struck another pose, Tessa jingled her bell, Nala adjusted her cape like a queen, Minne clutched her paper like a lifeline.

I looked at them, one by one. Jasmine, fierce and glowing, her confidence radiating. Kim, electric and sharp, ready to cut through anything. Tessa, playful and soft, but with a bite. Nala, regal and untouchable, the leader we all followed. Minne, quiet but present, her loyalty a quiet storm. My chest tightened, a warm ache. This was my world now. These women. This life. I’d built something real, something worth fighting for.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, screen lighting up. I glanced—Delilah. A photo loaded slowly: her full, perfect tits in frame, face smiling, lips parted, eyes locked on the camera. And there was a message.

’Ivy’s out. Cumming?’

Then she sent another text. ’Coming! Not cumming! I swear it auto-corrected it. I’m not trying to be a smartass. Stupid phone.

Fuck she was such a cute woman.

I cleared my throat, pocketing the phone fast. "Y-yeah, so—memorize those, girls. I’ll be back in a few hours."

Minne bowed slightly, paper still in hand. "Yes, Master."

Jasmine tilted her head, one brow raised. "Where are you going?"

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the cape on my shoulders. "Got some business. Police station. Richard’s bullshit again. Won’t take long, I promise."

Jasmine nodded, stepped close, and kissed me—slow, deep, her hand on my neck, fingers threading into my hair. My cock twitched, traitorously, pressing against my pants.

I pulled back, whispered to myself: "Alright... Delilah. How the hell do I introduce you to these girls?"

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I drove deep into Delilah, the mattress beneath us creaking like it was begging for mercy. Ivy’s bed—pink comforter bunched at the foot, stuffed animals shoved to the floor—felt like the perfect sin. Delilah’s legs were locked tight around my waist, heels digging into my back, pulling me in with every thrust. Her nails raked down my shoulders, leaving hot trails. Sweat slicked our skin, the room thick with the scent of sex and her perfume.

I kissed her hard, teeth grazing her lower lip. "I’m fucking you in your daughter’s bed," I growled against her mouth. "Look at you—so fucking beautiful, spread out on her princess sheets, taking my cock like you were made for it."

She whimpered, cheeks flushing crimson. "You’re the one who asked me to do this," she panted, voice shy but dripping with need. "Told me to come here, bend over Ivy’s pillows..."

I grinned, slowing my hips just to tease, dragging my length out until only the tip stayed inside, then slamming back in. The condom—thin, hated latex—dulled the heat, but I still felt her clench around me. "I wanna fuck you in every inch of this house," I said, voice rough. "Kitchen counter. Shower. That fancy couch in the living room. Mark every room with you screaming my name."

She moaned, arching up, breasts pressing against my chest. I dipped my head, sucked a nipple into my mouth, rolling it with my tongue until she gasped. My hips snapped faster, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady rhythm. Thud. Thud. Thud. Her pussy was soaked, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the room, even through the damn rubber.

"Fuck, this condom," I muttered, biting her collarbone. "I hate it. Wanna feel you raw, Delilah. Wanna feel every inch of you squeezing me."

She laughed breathlessly, fingers tangling in my hair. "You’re insatiable."

I thrust harder, angling to hit that spot that made her eyes roll back. "I’m gonna cum," I rasped. "Can I do it inside?"

Her breath hitched. "Evan... this time I could really get pregnant. We’re lucky I didn’t already."

"Please," I begged, slowing again, grinding deep, letting her feel every pulse. "I’ve dreamed about this—countless times. I wanna pull this fucking condom off, Delilah. Wanna cum inside you, right here, in your daughter’s bed. Fill you up until it’s dripping out."

She bit her lip, eyes fluttering, shy but burning. "Okay... gah. GAH! Okay, fine, fine, do it."

I pulled out slow, the condom slick with her. I ripped it off, tossed it to the floor, and lined up again—bare, hot, skin on skin. The first thrust without it was electric. Her pussy gripped me like a fist, wet and scorching. I groaned, loud, burying my face in her neck.

"Fuck, yes," I hissed. "That’s it. Take me raw."