Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!

"The music awaits, Your Highness," she murmured, her voice carrying just enough challenge to make it clear she knew exactly what game they were playing—and she wanted to play too.

'Oh, this is going to be fun,' Pyris thought, his own smile widening in response.

With fluid grace that made walking look like an art form, she led him toward the center of the polished marble dance floor. Her midnight blue gown flowed around her legs like she was made of liquid shadow and starlight, and Pyris had to admit—she knew how to make an entrance.

'Perfect timing,' he thought as their feet touched the designated space. 'Just as the Emperor's dignity finishes bleeding out, we give the audience something else to focus on.'

As if responding to some invisible signal—or maybe just really good palace staff training—the court musicians began to play. The melody that filled the air was haunting and complex, the kind of music that spoke of passion and conflict, of battles fought in silk and shadows rather than steel and flame.

'Someone has excellent taste in dramatic background music,' Pyris noted with approval.

The room shifted like a living organism responding to a new stimulus. Conversations died mid-sentence as every head turned toward the dance floor with the precision of a synchronized swimming team.

'And there goes our audience,' Pyris observed with satisfaction, watching the Emperor seize this golden opportunity to melt back through the crowd toward his seat. Even humiliated and wine-stained, the man knew when to make a strategic retreat. Like intended, he did not try to approach Alexa again.

But all eyes were now on the two figures who had claimed the center of the hall like it was their personal stage.

Pyris knew he cut an impressive figure—he'd chosen his outfit carefully for maximum impact. The white linen shirt seemed to glow against his dark skin, the upper chest unbuttoned just enough to be tantalizing without being scandalous, sleeves folded back in a casually elegant style that screamed "I'm powerful and I know it, but I don't need to try too hard."

'Classic protagonist energy right there,' he thought with amusement. 'Simple but devastating. Let the clothes do the talking.'

Against Lekiza's regal midnight blue, he appeared almost ethereal—light against her darkness, simplicity against her complexity. But there was nothing soft about the way he moved, and anyone watching could tell that this dance was about to become something special.

'Time for Act Three of tonight's entertainment,' Pyris thought, taking his position. 'Let's give them a show they'll never forget.'

The dance began not with the polite harmony of court functions, but with war.

"Ready to scandalize some nobles?" she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

The moment they stepped onto the marble floor, the energy between them shifted into something primal. The court musicians began a slow, hypnotic melody—the kind of music that seemed designed for darkened bedchambers rather than public halls.

Lekiza moved first, her body flowing against his with liquid grace. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers finding the exposed skin where his shirt fell open, nails dragging lightly enough to make his breath catch. She pressed herself against him, her curves molding to his form as they began to move.

This wasn't dancing—this was vertical foreplay with an audience.

Pyris's hands found her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space between them. When she arched back in a graceful dip, his hand supported the curve of her spine while his eyes devoured the elegant line of her throat, the swell of her breasts rising and falling with each breath.

She came up slowly, deliberately, her body sliding against his as she rose. Her lips brushed his jawline—not quite a kiss, but close enough that several nobles in the audience shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"Is this appropriate?" someone whispered scandalized.

But neither of them cared about propriety.

Lekiza spun away from him, her midnight blue gown clinging to every curve as she moved, the fabric seeming to caress her body with each turn. When she came back to him, it was with a predatory grace that made his pulse race.

Her hands found his shoulders, then slid down to his chest, her touch both possessive and inviting.

Pyris responded by lifting her, his hands firm on her waist as he raised her until her face was level with his. For a moment they stayed like that, breathing the same air, eyes locked in a stare that spoke of promises and desires. Her legs wrapped around him briefly before he lowered her in a slow slide that had her body pressed intimately against his.

The audience was mesmerized and mortified in equal measure. This was beyond the bounds of acceptable public display, yet none could look away.

Lekiza turned in his arms, her back pressed against his chest as they moved together. His hands splayed across her stomach, pulling her tighter against him while her head fell back against his shoulder. The position was scandalous, intimate, suggesting bedroom positions that had no business being displayed in a banquet hall.

Her hips moved against him in rhythm with the music, a grinding motion that made his grip on her tighten. She could feel his response to her proximity, and she smiled wickedly at the effect she was having on him.

When she spun to face him again, her hands were bold, tracing the muscles of his chest, his arms, mapping his body like she was memorizing it for later. Her touch lingered at his neckline, fingers toying with the fabric as if she might tear it away entirely.

Pyris retaliated by backing her toward the edge of the dance floor, his movements controlled but aggressive.

When her back hit the marble pillar, he braced one hand against it, trapping her between the cold stone and his warm body. For a heartbeat, they stayed frozen like that—him looming over her, her looking up at him with parted lips and darkened eyes.

The music pulsed around them as he pulled her away from the pillar, spinning her out only to draw her back with such force that she collided with his chest. His arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her feet off the ground as her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively.

Several noble ladies gasped audibly. This was no longer dancing—it was public seduction so blatant it bordered on indecent.

But Lekiza and Pyris were lost in their own world of heat and desire. When he set her down, her hands immediately found his face, cupping it as she stared into his eyes with undisguised hunger. Her thumb traced his lower lip, and for a moment, it seemed she might kiss him right there in front of everyone.

Instead, she turned in his arms one final time, pressing her back against his chest as the music reached its crescendo. His hands roamed her body with possessive confidence—across her stomach, up her ribs, dangerously close to the swell of her breasts. Her head fell back against his shoulder as she surrendered to his touch, her breathing ragged with barely contained desire.

When the first song finally ended, they remained locked together for several heartbeats too long, breathing hard, staring at each other with the intensity of two people who had just discovered they were perfectly matched in their desires.

The applause that followed was scattered and uncertain—half the audience too shocked to respond, the other half too aroused to trust their voices.

But Pyris and Lekiza barely heard it. They were too busy communicating with heated glances and barely restrained touches, making silent promises about what would happen once they were alone.

The message to everyone watching was crystal clear: these two were going to end up in bed together, and probably very soon.

What they didn't see coming was something that took their breathe away. It was...