Chapter 384: Morning of a King
Morning of a King
"Good morning, love."
Rias's voice was a velvet strand in the quiet of dawn, a whisper against Leon's ear as her scarlet eyes opened. The warmth of her body against his side, her hair spilled like fire over his arm, and her lips tipped with the languid smile of a woman thoroughly sated.
But the heat had no opportunity to stay.
From his other side was another tune—cold, crystal sharp.
"Not fair, Leon. Don't I get a kiss too? Or has Rias become your favorite sister tonight?
Leon rolled onto his side, and there she was: Lira. Silvery hair knotted on her cheek, blue glacier eyes shining under the morning light filtering through the curtains. Her lips curved into a mocking half-smile as her narrow hand traveled down his stomach.
He let his mouth curl into a smile. "How could I possibly forget you?"
He leaned towards her. Their lips touched—her lips cold, icy at first, as if to test him, then softening, melting into warmth. It was not a ravenous kiss, but a slow fire, intentional, causing the world to remain still.
When it ended, he whispered, "Good morning, Lira."
Her eyes yielded, their icy edge melting into warm radiance. "Good morning, Leon."
The tranquility only lasted a heartbeat before his chest was pressed down by some unseen force.
Thin fingers grasped his jaw and pulled up his head. Lips slammed against his own—hot, demanding, hungry. His golden eyes widened in shock for a half-breath before his body succumbed to the flame, coming up to meet it, answering it.
The kiss cut off as suddenly as it started.
Bright green eyes gazed into him, full of mischief.
"Morning," Syra said with a cocky smile.
Leon chuckled softly, voice still husky with sleep. "Morning, Syra."
Her smile grew wider, and she rested her chin on his chest like a triumphant cat.
And the rest woke up, awoken by the laughter and the stolen kisses.
Aria's head rose off his thigh, purple locks spilling over his skin. Her regal eyes opened, sluiced with a sly narrowing, and she smiled, running her lips against the back of her hand.
"Well? Where's my kiss, Leon? Or are you rationing them this morning?"
He smiled, lifting a hand to frame her chin and pull her up. Their lips kissed softly—she shut her eyes, holding the kiss longer than the others, her hand contracting around his wrist as if to keep him there.
"Good morning, Aria," he whispered against her lips.
"Mm. That's better," she purred.
On his other leg, Nova arched like a cat, her black hair spilling down, her green eyes looking up at him from beneath her lashes. She didn't say anything, didn't have to—the tilt of her chin, lips parted ever so slightly—was invitation enough.
Leon smiled and bent to kiss her. She kissed him back slowly, as if enjoying each heartbeat, her hand lying lightly on his knee.
"Morning, Nova."
She smiled weakly, nearly shy, before leaning into his leg once again.
Cynthia woke next, sitting up slightly, her smooth black hair surrounding her calm face. She did not speak, only leaned into his shoulder, waiting. Leon turned, brushed his lips against her cheek. A weak, peaceful smile creased her lips—the quietest of them all, but her silence did it all.
"Morning, Cynthia."
She nodded her head slightly, accepting.
Kyra was slower. She hung suspended, her green eyes clear even in drowsiness, as though arguing with herself. Leon didn't give her time to think. He grasped her chin, pulled her forward until she finally surrendered. Her lips touched his hesitantly at first, then deepened a little before withdrawing. A gentle flush stained her cheeks.
The maids—Fey, Rui, Mira, Lena, Mona—awakened in sporadic cadence. Laughter filled the bed as one by one leaned in, stealing their portion of him. Fey pinched his side when she took too long a turn, Rui breathed "Master" in awe before kissing him, Mira nipped his lip teasingly, Lena pushed his hair out of the way with her hand as she leaned in, and Mona laughed helplessly against his lips.
Each kiss was unique—each one possessed him in her own little way.
Lilyn's was bashful. The head maid with short hair bent forward, hazel eyes shining dimly, lips quivering until Leon leaned forward first. She kissed him back softly, as if something to be shared only between the two of them.
Chloe was red as a rose before he even reached her. When his lips pressed only to her forehead, her wide brown eyes darted up at him, innocence and confusion mingling.
"B-But…" she stammered.
"You'll thank me one day," Leon whispered softly.
And she hid her burning face against the pillow, muttering, "Idiot."
Finally came Tsubaki.
The knight groaned as her eyes opened, her entire body sore. She glared at him, though it lacked any real venom.
"You'll kill me, Master," she muttered.
But she still dragged him down, capturing his lips firmly. It was brief, but fierce, a soldier's kiss—direct, intense, and without hesitation.
When it ended, she collapsed back with a sigh. "Still… worth it."
By the time the final kiss was taken, Leon was again surrounded, golden eyes open, looking out over the sea of flushed faces and messy hair, their bodies against him as if he were the center of the universe.
A king in all but name.
He breathed out, smiling softly to himself. Yes, last night was madness. But it was his madness.
"Do you have any idea what I'm jealous of you for, Leon?" Syra's voice was languid, still leaning on his chest, her hand tracing circles on his collarbone.
"Mm?" he vibrated.
"For being able to move after all that." She tipped her head, smiling. "I don't even feel my thighs anymore."
Giggle waves ran across the bed.
"I told you so," Rias taunted, nipping Syra's hip. "Leon's appetite is not to be underestimated."
"Warned?" Aria laughed, her purple eyes narrowing with playfulness. "You egged it on."
"Perhaps." Rias smiled.
Leon just laughed, his chest vibrating beneath Syra's cheek. "You three weren't exactly virgins last night."
"Don't remind me," Cynthia whispered, though her lips curved with remembered joy.
The morning of playful jibes, gentle laughter, fingers stroking his skin, lips stealing stolen kisses whenever she could. It was warmth, it was madness, it was something delicate and exhilarating.
And then—
Knock. Knock.
The knock pierced the air like a knife.
The whole bed froze.
Eyes flicked in the direction of the door. The laughter ceased. The women froze in a knot around him, the peace of the morning shattered in a moment.
Another knock. Harder.
"Darling," a distant voice murmured respectfully from outside the door.