My Taboo Harem!

Her voice at midnight was pure sex—low, smoky, stripped bare of the crisp professionalism she wore like armor during the day. It slid over his skin like a tongue.

He stepped fully into the gym, the elevator doors whispering shut behind him.

"Impossible not to."

"Then quit pretending you weren't staring." She didn't turn, just held his gaze in the mirror while she shifted her grip on the bar, shoulders rolling in a way that made her breasts threaten to spill from the deep side cutouts. "Two weeks of stolen glances. Looking away the second I catch you. Like I'm some fragile thing you're afraid to break."

"I was being respectful."

"You were being fucking infuriating."

She sank into another squat—deeper, slower, deliberately lewd. At the bottom she paused, thighs spread wide, back arched impossibly, ass pushed out until the bodysuit became nothing more than a thin grey string disappearing between slick, swollen lips.

A soft, breathy moan escaped her—barely audible, but it punched straight to his cock.

"Do you have any idea what it's like?" she continued, voice rough with frustration and raw hunger. "Training you every day. Hands on your sinful body. Feeling the muscle I built harden under my fingers. Watching you leave with those little girls who don't know what to do with a man like you?"

"They're not—"

"They're babies, Phei!" She rose slowly, turning her head to look at him over one bare shoulder. The motion deepened her arch, presenting her ass to him like an offering. "And you bring them here. Make me train them too. Make me stand by while they touch what I've wanted to claim for whole two weeks. While touch—"

She stopped herself, lips parting on a shaky inhale.

Phei finished the thought for her, voice low and rough. "While they touch what you want buried deep inside you?"

Her eyes flared—dark, molten.

"Yes."

A dark chuckle rumbled out of him, rich with amusement and raw desire.

The sound hit her like a physical caress. He saw it in the way her thighs pressed together, in the fresh flood of wetness darkening the fabric between her legs, in the way her breath caught and her nipples hardened visibly against the thin grey material.

He could see it all in the mirror: the sharp, involuntary hitch of her breath, the way her dark pupils blew wide with raw lust, the subtle clench of her thighs as they pressed together, chasing pressure against her aching clit. His voice had always been a weapon since the system kicked in (low, rough, laced with something primal that made women soak through their panties), but Valentina's reaction was feral.

Her body betrayed her in real time, nipples tightening to painful points against the thin grey fabric, a fresh sheen of sweat breaking across her chest.

"Something funny?" she forced out, aiming for cool defiance and landing somewhere closer to a needy whimper.

"Just you."

Phei stalked deeper into the gym, each slow step shrinking the space between them until the air felt thick, charged. "All that polished professionalism for two weeks, and the second you get me alone at midnight, it just—" He let his hand drop lazily through the air. "—crumbles. You're wet for me, aren't you?"

Her jaw flexed, a flush crawling up her throat. "I've been patient."

"You've been fucking desperate."

The word hit her like a slap and a caress at once. She swallowed hard, thighs shifting again.

"I've been waiting," she rasped. "Watching you parade those girls in here. Watching you pretend you didn't notice me bending over in front of you, pressing against you during spotting, letting my hands linger. Do you know how many men in this building would beg on their knees for one night with me? How many have offered everything they have for this body?"

"And yet here you are," he murmured, voice dropping even lower, "in a bodysuit so thin I can see your fat pussy lips printed against it, squatting at midnight like a bitch in heat, praying I'd walk in."

Her breath stuttered. No denial came.

Because he was dead right, and the truth hung heavy between them.

Valentina turned her face back to the mirror, shoulders rolling as she settled the bar again. She dragged in a slow, shaky breath that made her heavy breasts strain against the deep side cutouts--fabric so damp now it clung transparently, the stiff peaks of her nipples and the dark hint of areolas completely visible.

"Watch me," she ordered, voice husky, trembling with hunger.

Not a plea. A demand.

"I haven't stopped watching for weeks."

"Then keep watching."

She sank into the squat—slow, filthy, deliberate. Thighs parting wide, back arching until her ass jutted out obscenely, the grey fabric pulling so tight between her legs that the mirror reflected every explicit detail: the swollen outline of her bare fat pussy, lips parted slightly by the seam, slick arousal darkening the material in a shameless wet patch that grew with every second she held the pose.

"Watch what you've been ignoring," she breathed, voice ragged. "What I've been serving up on a platter every goddamn session while you fucked around with your little princesses."

Phei didn't even try to hide his reaction.

Blood surged south, his cock thickening fast, pressing a heavy, obvious ridge against the front of his loose sweatpants. He was half-hard already and climbing, the sight of her spread and glistening in the mirror dragging a low growl from his chest.

Valentina saw it instantly.

Her gaze dropped in the reflection, locking on the growing bulge. Triumph and pure, dizzy lust flashed across her face.

There it is.

The cock I've been fantasizing about. The one she'd ridden her fingers to every night for weeks, imagining it splitting her open, stretching her until she screamed. Even through the mirror, even half-hard, it looked massive—long, ridiculously thick, the outlined head already pushing insistently against the fabric as it swelled further under her stare.

Jesus fucking Christ, she thought, a fresh rush of wetness flooding her core. It's even bigger than I dreamed, bigger than the bulge in his gym pants I've been crazy about. He's going to wreck me.

She tried to hold the squat, tried to cling to the last scraps of her control, but her mind was gone. All that existed was the mirror's cruel reflection of his crotch—the heavy, lengthening ridge of his cock straining against those loose sweatpants, growing thicker, harder, right before her eyes.

She imagined it bare, imagined it splitting her open, imagined the stretch and the burn and the way she'd scream when he finally buried himself to the hilt.

Her thighs shook uncontrollably.

Her perfect form cracked.

And then he was there.

Phei closed the distance in a heartbeat—no hesitation, no permission asked. One second he was watching her unravel; the next his big hands clamped around her narrow waist, steadying her as the bar wobbled dangerously.

"Careful," he growled low against her ear, hot breath fanning over her sweat-slicked neck.

But the way he stepped in—fuck.

Too close. Deliberately, unforgivably close.

As he guided her upright, his hips rolled forward and that thick, half-hard cock slotted perfectly between her ass cheeks like it belonged there. Not rubbing against the outside—no, the thin grey fabric of her bodysuit had ridden so deep into her crack that his shaft nestled right into the bare divide, separated from her skin by only two useless layers of cloth.

She felt every burning inch of him: the heavy weight, the pulsing heat, the impossible girth pressing insistently against her, nudging upward until the swollen head kissed the small of her back.

Valentina stood frozen, breath ragged, his hands still gripping her waist like brands. His cock throbbed against her ass, thickening further with every frantic beat of her heart. Her pussy clenched on nothing, a fresh rush of slick soaking the fabric already plastered to her folds.

She couldn't help it.

She pushed back.

A slow, desperate grind—just a fraction, just enough to drag her ass along his trapped length, to feel that fat shaft slide deeper into her cleft, to feel the ridge of his crown catch against the bunched fabric over her tight little hole.

A raw, shameless moan tore from her throat—low, broken, dripping with pure animal need.

A moan left her lips like a plea, like a prayer, like the first syllable of every filthy thing she wanted him to do to her.

And in the mirror, she watched his eyes darken to dark purple than usual, watched his control snap like a frayed cable.

The gym was silent except for their breathing.

"Phei—"