Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

"Ahem... Sylvaris, should I take the ground then?"

They stood there, frozen in the doorway, staring at the single bed like it was a cursed artifact. The room itself wasn't exactly inviting—cramped, musty, a thick layer of dust clinging to the corners, and the floor… gods, the floor looked like it had been used in a ritual sacrifice. Mold, cobwebs, and some suspicious white stain by the corner that neither of them dared to acknowledge. Iselynne spoke up quickly, her voice trembling, trying to offer herself as tribute to the floor gods, but Sylvaris sighed and cursed whatever idiot god was laughing at him from above.

"Let's share the bed," he muttered, the words barely audible, his voice cracking like a teen boy hitting puberty again. Very unlike him. The same man who'd throatfucked a sorceress against a pillar and pounded a fox girl until her legs gave out… was now too nervous to ask a girl to sleep beside him.

"That way we'll both be happy."

Happy? Yeah, sure. His dick was already rock hard and trapped like a beast in a cage, throbbing against the fabric of his pants, and all he could think was how cursed he was to be born this attractive and this damn horny.

Ouch! Hey, Author! Stop hitting me! Let me narrate—damn it!

Iselynne blinked twice. Surely, she'd misheard. She looked him dead in the eyes, waiting for a punchline, a smirk, a wink, something. But no—his expression was dead serious, even if his ears were turning a bit pink.

"You… You don't mean we'll sleep under one blanket!?"

Her voice cracked like glass, and she looked like she wanted to crawl into a cupboard and evaporate. Her whole face turned crimson, and she grabbed the ends of her sleeves, fidgeting like some shy noble daughter meeting her betrothed for the first time. Her savior, the man she owed everything to… and now they were going to share a bed?

"I can take the floor. I'm used to it. I've slept in dirtier places."

She tried to reason with herself, explain her situation away, but Sylvaris was having none of that. His jaw clenched, and with an exhale he didn't know he was holding, he stepped forward.

"Just sleep on the bed. I don't even need a blanket." He forced a chuckle. "Look at me, I'm strong. I can handle the cold. I won't die, hahaha!"

Fuck me, what am I saying… This is so cringe… Am I turning into some beta gentleman simp? What the hell is wrong with me?! Get a grip, Sylvaris! You're the Harem God Seed, not some lovesick schoolboy—

But his thoughts only made things worse, his internal screaming loud enough to echo inside his skull. His face was calm. But inside? He was dying.

Iselynne looked at the bed again. Then at him. Her cheeks still red, lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. She just nodded.

The silence between them was thick. Electric. Stupid. Awkward. And yet… oddly warm.

"Then, you should take a bath first, and I'll go after you," Sylvaris offered, already moving toward the bathroom door. But Iselynne shook her head, firm.

"No. You're the master here, so you go first."

He stopped in his tracks. "I told you, don't call me that," his voice sharpened just enough to show his irritation, though it was layered with something else—guilt, maybe. "I didn't buy you to be my slave..."

But she didn't back down. Not even a little. She simply crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, her ice-blue hair catching the glow of the lamplight like moonlight off a blade.

Sylvaris sighed, hands raised in defeat. "Fine, fine. I'll go first. But don't think you won or anything."

He stepped toward the door, muttering to himself. "Gods, look at me. From unhinged sex demon to civilized bath-scheduling husband... what the hell is happening?"

I miss the other girls… Liraeth, my good little elf... she must be aching for my cock by now. Bet she's grinding her thighs together thinking of me. Fuck, I'd rail her so hard she'd forget how to cast spells. His thoughts spiraled, sharp and sinful, and he clenched his jaw as he walked into the washroom.

I need to get a grip before I fuck the wrong woman for the right reasons...

The door clicked shut behind him, and the soft rush of water began, steam slowly curling into the room like temptation itself.

And behind it, Iselynne sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes flicking to the door... and her hand brushing over her own chest, just once, wondering why her heart felt heavier now than it did in that cage.

"Ahh... yes... that's the good stuff..." Sylvaris sank deeper into the steaming water, the hot bath embracing his sore muscles like a lover's arms. Foamy bubbles clung to his sculpted chest, the heat sinking into every inch of his body. After everything—buying Iselynne, flirting with the guild girl, walking through that city of lust in the air—this moment of stillness hit him harder than expected.

And yet, as the warmth seeped in, so did the loneliness.

His eyes wandered toward the ceiling, glazed in thought. Liraeth… Faylira… even Lilith… they passed through his mind like ghosts. He tried to pretend he wasn't worried. That he wasn't aching for them—not just for their bodies, but for the chaos they brought into his life, the comfort in knowing they were his. But now they were far away. And he had no idea when he'd see them again.

Still… there were other beauties in this land. Many. And Sylvaris was no fool—if this continent was a buffet, he wasn't leaving until he sampled every forbidden flavor. Including that smug little minx behind the adventurer's guild counter. That tight body, that professional smile, the way her eyes dared him to push just a little further. Oh, I'm going to fuck her, he thought with a smirk spreading across his face. Slow and deep and bent right over that polished desk.

His cock stirred under the water, swelling slowly as his thoughts grew filthier. He closed his eyes and let the fantasy roll—her gasping, hands clawing at his back, breasts pressed to cold wood while he pounded her mercilessly in front of the guild crest—

CREEEAAK—

The bathroom door slid open just a hair.

Sylvaris snapped upright, water sloshing violently. His eyes shot toward the opening, heart skipping a beat.

Steam billowed out like a summoned mist, and in the haze, a silhouette appeared.

But then… something he absolutely did not expect happened right then and there.

The door creaked fully open—and in walked Iselynne.

Naked.

Her pale skin shimmered in the steam, ethereal in the lantern light as if sculpted from moonlight and snow. She tried to cover herself with one arm crossed over her chest, but those perfect, heavy peaks still peeked from behind, taut and proud, tipped with soft pink nipples that stood firm in the cool air. She stepped closer, unflinching, the confidence in her posture betraying the faint blush burning beneath her cheeks.

Her eyes met his—and didn't waver.

"I want to wash your back," she said, voice calm but full of something deeper, trembling just slightly beneath the surface. "And I will not take no for an answer. So sit down... and get comfortable."

Sylvaris sat frozen, caught somewhere between a fever dream and a divine miracle. The bubbles around him quivered as his cock surged beneath the water like a leviathan breaching the waves—nearly thirty centimeters of pent-up hunger, rising tall in salute to its new commanding officer. And she saw it, she definitely saw it, but she didn't look down.

No, she kept her gaze locked on his, as if telling him: Yes. I know what's down there. And I came anyway.

And maybe, just maybe… she wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Sylvaris blinked. Holy fuck. Is this really happening? He felt like his brain had shut off. Or maybe it had been replaced by pure dick instincts.

"...You sure?" he managed to say, voice dry, throat tight.

She didn't answer with words. She simply knelt behind him, picked up the sponge, and dipped it into the hot water.

And in that moment, Sylvaris knew—

The beast wasn't going back in the cage tonight.

The sponge glided across his back, slow and tender, as if she were memorizing every scar, every muscle with her touch. Steam curled between them, their breaths hot and shallow, hearts drumming to some ancient rhythm neither could name.

Her fingers brushed his shoulder, then trailed lower... lower still... until he felt her nails lightly graze the ridges of his abs. His cock throbbed under the water, twitching like it could feel her without even being touched.

This is going to be a long night… I might not even make it to morning without breaking, Sylvaris groaned internally, already sweating from the heat—not just from the bath, but from the girl beside him. One wrong move... and I'll end up fucking her right here, right now.