Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

The room was silent now. No more slapping flesh. No more moaning. No more system messages.

Only their breath remained—shaky, uneven, laced with the echo of pleasure that refused to fade.

Sylvaris didn't pull out. He stayed inside her, his cock softening slowly within her soaked, twitching vagina. Iselynne's legs were still loosely wrapped around his waist, her arms limp, her head nestled beneath his chin. Her skin radiated heat—slick, sticky, and soft, like it had melted into him.

He let out a slow breath.

And then he leaned back.

Not to leave her. Not to escape. But to look. To see what he'd done.

Her body lay beneath him like a goddess painted in ruin—her silver-blue hair tangled across the pillow like strands of moonlight soaked in sweat. Her cheeks were flushed red, her lips parted just slightly, still puffy and red from the earlier kiss… or maybe the hours of moaning. Her breasts rose and fell with each shaky breath, glistening with the faint sheen of sweat and cum. Her belly was warm and soft, glowing faintly where the harem sigil still pulsed—his mark, carved not in ink but in power.

Her legs were spread wide and twitching. Her pussy leaked with thick, white heat, slowly trickling down the curve of her ass and into the sheets below.

He hadn't just claimed her. He'd changed her.

Sylvaris brought a hand to her cheek and brushed a stray hair away with his thumb. She leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering open just barely.

"Still with me?" he whispered.

She gave a faint nod. Her voice was gone. But her lips curled into a smile.

He kissed her.

Soft. Gentle. Slow.

It wasn't like before—no tongue, no hunger. Just lips meeting lips. A whisper of breath between them. A taste that lingered—salty, warm, laced with everything they'd shared.

Her hand rose shakily to his chest. Not pushing him away. Just touching. Feeling. As if needing to remind herself he was real.

He kissed her again.

Longer.

He pulled her lower lip between his teeth and let it go slowly, savoring the sound of her breath hitching. She tasted like sweat and sex and something faintly sweet—maybe her scent, maybe just the memory of her moaning his name.

He shifted slowly, carefully, and slipped out of her. A soft—slrrrp—echoed, followed by the immediate drip of cum leaking down her thighs.

She gasped.

"Sorry," he murmured, brushing her hip with his hand.

Her legs trembled, but she didn't speak.

He leaned down and kissed her thighs.

First one. Then the other. Then the mess between.

He didn't lick. Didn't tease. Just kissed her there, slowly, reverently, while his fingers brushed along her stomach and waist. Her skin was hot to the touch, like her body was still burning inside.

"Beautiful," he whispered against her inner thigh.

And then he slid up again, slow, so slow, like he didn't want to leave any part of her untouched. His hands mapped her body like cartography. Over the curve of her waist, the dip of her navel, the underside of her breast.

He didn't grope.

He held.

His fingers traced her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, then her jaw. He kissed her chin, her cheek, her temple.

Every inch.

She let out a soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper—"Mnnnh~..."—barely audible, but soaked in heat and surrender.

"I'm here," he whispered. "You're safe."

Her eyes welled with tears. Not pain. Just everything melting into this one moment. "I-..." She wanted to speak. But Sylvaris's lips were faster.

He kissed her again. Deeper now. Their lips melted together, warm and slow. His tongue slipped past her lips, curling gently around hers, and she met him there, tentative, but alive. Her mouth moved with him. Wet, soft, perfect.

She tasted like surrender.

His hand slipped behind her head, cradling her skull as he kissed her slower and slower, like he could kiss away every tremor left in her limbs. Like if he kissed her long enough, time would stop.

He pulled back. Their foreheads rested together. She stared up at him, dazed, glassy-eyed.

"Do you feel it?" he whispered.

She nodded faintly. "Inside me. You're everywhere."

He smiled.

He rolled slowly to the side, bringing her with him, wrapping her in his arms as she curled into his chest. Her head pressed beneath his jaw, her breath ghosting over his collarbone. One leg draped over his hip, her cunt still leaking against his thigh, but he didn't care. He wanted all of it.

All the sweat. All the mess.

All of her.

His hands moved lazily over her back, down to the curve of her ass, then up again to her shoulder blades, as if he was sculpting her all over again just by touch. She made a soft noise when he dragged his fingers along her spine—a slow, tingling motion that made her twitch and breathe harder.

"You're perfect," he whispered.

She shook her head.

"You are. And you're mine. That's not opinion. That's fact."

She giggled—barely audible. She nuzzled into his chest and placed a kiss there, right above his heart.

"Will you kiss me again?" she asked.

Syvalris didn't need to answer with words. He kissed her. But not with his mouth first.

He kissed her jaw. Her neck. Her collarbone. Her chest. The top of her breast. The tip of one nipple. Then the other.

He lingered there, warm breath ghosting over sensitive skin as he kissed them slowly, letting his tongue flick gently, her back arching with a soft gasp.

He moved lower, kissing down her stomach, right to the still-glowing sigil above her mound. He kissed it, too. Reverently.

She whimpered, "Nnnhh~...", the sound trembling in her throat, fragile and full of feeling.

Then he moved back up. Laid beside her. And kissed her lips again.

This one lingered. No words. Just heat.

Soft tongue, messy breathing, lips parting and catching. His hands tangled in her hair as he deepened it, letting her melt under the weight of it. It wasn't lust now.

It was confirmation. That she was his. That this wasn't just about sex. This was worship. Bonding. Eternity sealed in sweat and kisses and moans whispered into skin.

When he pulled back, she was trembling. Not from pleasure. From emotion.

"You make me feel like I'm worth something," she said softly.

He kissed her forehead. "You were always worth something. I just claimed what no one else saw."