Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!

The silence that followed their dance stretched for heartbeats too long before exploding into a cacophony of whispers that rippled through the banquet hall like wildfire mostly from ladies that had felt the blunt of Pyris' unleashed flames of lust that he had tried for the first time ever.

"Did you see... the way she responded to him?"

"That wasn't dancing—that was public claiming!"

"The magic... those pink-golden flames... I've never felt anything like it..."

"My body is still... gods, what was that power?"

"Princess Lekiza looked like she was about to... right there in front of everyone..."

"The Young Lord of House Obsidian just conquered another princess without even bedding her..."

At the table of male leaders, the Dragon Emperor leaned toward the Human Emperor with barely concealed amusement. "Your daughter seems quite... taken with the young man. That's what—the second princess he's claimed from your Empire now?"

The Human Emperor's face had gone through several interesting shades of purple during the dance, and it wasn't improving. His ceremonial robes, still stained with wine, made him look like a man whose evening had gone catastrophically wrong in multiple ways. He fought the urge to remind the Dragon Emperor that he didn't have his proud daughter either by his side or his wife at that.

But that would only escalate things...

Dracula's laughter rang out across their table, rich and mocking. "I have to ask, old friend—when you lose your mastermind daughter to House Obsidian's heir, who exactly will be making the political decisions for your Empire? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're about to be short one strategic mind."

The Human Emperor's jaw worked soundlessly, his hands clenched into fists on the table.

"Perhaps," the Elf Emperor added with silky malice, "you shouldn't have tried the marriage proposal with such greedy. I mean you had the video game deal. Now it seems the young lord is simply taking what he wants anyway."

At the table of Empresses, the reactions were far more... complex.

Alera continued eating her food with mechanical precision, completely unaffected by the lustful magic that had set the entire hall ablaze.

Her necromancer nature seemed to provide immunity to such base desires, and she regarded the entire spectacle with the same interest she might show a mildly entertaining street performance.

But the others...

The Witch Empress sat rigidly in her chair, her knuckles white as she gripped her wine goblet. The pink-golden flames had awakened something in her that she thought she'd buried long ago—memories of heated glances and teasing words from their earlier encounter.

Her thighs pressed together beneath the table as waves of unwanted arousal coursed through her ancient body.

Ambrosia was in an even worse state. The Beast Empress who prided herself on control was barely maintaining her composure. Her ears had extended slightly, and her breathing was shallow and rapid. Every joke, every teasing comment Pyris had made during the greeting ceremony now felt like foreplay, and her body was responding as if he'd been seducing her for hours instead of minutes.

"That boy," the Witch Empress managed through gritted teeth, "is dangerous."

"Dangerously attractive," Ambrosia corrected, her voice husky with barely contained desire. "Did you feel... when his magic touched us? It was like he was awakening every desire I've ever had for him."

Even Emberly was fanning herself, though she tried to hide it. Watching her son display such raw, sexual power had created complicated feelings she wasn't entirely comfortable examining.

As the initial shock wore off, the inevitable happened—every noble woman in the hall wanted a piece of what they'd just witnessed.

"Lord Pyris!" called out a noble from the Dragon Empire. "Surely you could spare one more dance?"

Before he could respond, a countess from the vampire territories was stepping forward. "My lord, I would be honored—"

Soon the requests became a flood. Noble ladies who had spent the evening maintaining proper decorum were now openly competing for his attention, their inhibitions burned away by the lingering effects of his lustful magic.

Pyris found himself pulled back onto the dance floor, this time with the wife of a Dragon Empire lower general—a beautiful woman, her collarbone and eyes that promised she knew exactly what she wanted.

Her dance was different from Lekiza's—more experienced, more knowing. She moved against him with the confidence of a woman who had conquered battlefields and bedrooms alike. But even she gasped when his pink-golden flames caressed her scaled skin, her composed facade cracking as desire flooded through her.

"My husband," she breathed against his ear, "would kill any other man for this. But for you... I think he'd understand."

Next came the Empresses.

The Witch Empress approached with regal dignity, but the moment his hands touched her waist, centuries of control began to crumble. His lustful flames found every buried desire, every suppressed fantasy she'd harbored about him, and brought them roaring to the surface.

Her dance was desperate, hungry—hands roaming his body like she was trying to memorize every inch. When he dipped her low, her back arching in elegant submission, she whispered words in the old tongue that made the air itself seem to heat with arousal.

Ambrosia was worse. The Beast Empress had abandoned all pretense of propriety, her movements primal and possessive. She danced like she wanted to devour him, her bestial teeth grazing his throat in a way that made several observers gasp in shock.

"Bitches." Alera muttered while Aurelia nodded.

"You're playing with fire, little lord," she purred against his neck. "And I burn so easily."

Through it all, the princesses watched from their seats with growing discomfort. Lekiza had returned to the royal table, but she sat stiffly, her face flushed and her breathing still uneven.

Every time she shifted in her chair, she was reminded of exactly how thoroughly his magic had affected her.

Jasper and Zaranrel exchanged meaningful looks. Zaranrel, despite being an incubus himself, shook his head in amazement. "Even I can't do what he just did." The idol sensation of Argos, they call him, but this... this is beyond mere demonic lust.

Valerie chuckled from her seat, her vampire senses picking up the pheromones and arousal that saturated the air. "This is going to be interesting. Half the noble ladies in the realm are going to be throwing themselves at him after tonight."

But it was Selene who understood the true implications.

When, like if, Pyris returned to the academy after this banquet like he was planning to, he wouldn't just be the heir to House Obsidian anymore. He would be the man who had publicly claimed a princess and seduced half the nobility of the realm without even trying.

The magnetic pull he already possessed would become irresistible.

Every princess, every noble lady who had felt his lustful flames tonight would remember. They would seek him out, drawn like moths to a flame that promised to burn them in the most delicious ways.

Eventually, as more dancers joined the floor and the attention became diffused among multiple couples, Pyris found his opportunity. The stage was crowded now, filled with nobles who were trying to recapture even a fraction of the magic they'd witnessed.

He slipped away from the chaos, Song and the Phantoms maintaining their protective watch over his family—not that anyone would dare cause trouble in House Obsidian's own territory, but caution never hurt.

The resting chamber was blissfully quiet after the sensual chaos of the banquet hall. Pyris slumped into a plush couch, finally allowing himself a moment to process what had just happened.

Then the door opened.

Lekiza stood there, her midnight blue gown still disheveled from their dance, her dark hair partially escaped from its elaborate styling. But her eyes... her eyes burned with a hunger that made his pulse quicken.

"Finish what you started, Young Lord," she declared, her voice carrying the authority of a princess who had decided to claim what she wanted.

Her speed was terrifying—one moment she was by the door, the next she was straddling his lap, her hands fisting in his ruined shirt as her mouth crashed into his with desperate hunger.

The taste of her was ice and fire, winter storms and burning desire. Her tongue demanded entry, and when he granted it, she moaned against his mouth like a woman finally getting what she'd been craving.

Her body pressed against his with shameless need, and he could feel the evidence of how thoroughly his lustful magic had affected her. She was still aroused, still burning with the desires he'd awakened, and she'd come here to do something about it.

"You made me want you... mm mmhh~~" she gasped between kisses, her hips grinding against his lap. "Your flames... they're still burning inside me. I can't think of anything else."

Her hands found the ruined fabric of his shirt and tore it completely open, her palms exploring the chest she'd been fantasizing about since their dance ended. When her fingers found his skin, pink-golden flames flickered to life at the contact, making her gasp and arch against him.

"Then don't think," he murmured against her throat, his hands finding the fastenings of her gown. "Just feel."