Maki's gaze didn't waver. It burned, steady and fierce, but beneath it lay something softer—something vulnerable.
"If it's by your hand… then ruin me," She said, her voice breaking, but her resolve unshaken. "So long as I'm yours when it's done."
Mai giggled, dark and sultry, her hand sliding lower, teasing along the edge of his waistband like a promise of submission.
"I'll fall to my knees if it means being closer to you," She purred, every word soaked in wicked devotion. "I'll beg. I'll crawl. Not because you ask it, but because I want to. Because I need to. Because there's no higher place for me than at your side."
Liam's grin faded into something more solemn, more honest.
Possession, yes, but also fear. Reverence. Love.
"Good," he said, though his voice trembled with the weight of it. "Because once you're mine… once you give yourselves to me… there's no turning back. I'll hold you so close you'll forget where you end and I begin."
And the girls?
They didn't flinch. They didn't falter.
They only pressed closer, eyes burning, hearts surrendered.
"We already have," they whispered, breathless and raw, their voices a pledge carved from desire and devotion.
Aiko, who had been watching with a knowing, sultry smile, finally stepped forward. Her gaze was amused, but there was approval too, pride.
"It seems my master has truly claimed his prizes," She teased, though her voice was soft and warm. "But girls… once you belong to him, there's no going back. You'll be his. Completely."
Maki turned her head, her green eyes fierce and burning.
"That's all we want," She said, her voice a low vow, sharp and sure.
Mai giggled, sultry and low, a sound soaked in wicked delight.
"We want to be his toys." She purred, as if the word itself tasted sweet on her tongue.
Liam's grin turned wolfish, and dangerous, his eyes dark and heavy with promise. His hands slid up their backs, fingers pressing into the soft skin, claiming every inch. He pulled them closer until there was nothing left between them but heat and breath.
"Good," He whispered, his breath hot. "Because you're mine now. You'll burn for me, beg for me… and I'll give you everything you've ever craved."
And then he kissed them—not soft, not sweet. No, this was a kiss meant to mark, to brand, to claim.
Their moans melted into the air, shameless and needy.
It was Maki first. His hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back as his mouth crashed onto hers.
The kiss was hard, deep, and consuming—like fire meeting gasoline. She gasped into it, her body arching, pressing, surrendering as though she'd been waiting for this her entire life. His tongue demanded, tasted, and owned, leaving her breathless and trembling.
But before she could even recover before her heart could settle, he turned to Mai—his lips finding hers with equal force.
This kiss was slower but deeper, a slow burn that melted her from the inside out. His hand slid along her jaw, fingers holding her in place as if daring her to pull away—but she didn't. She couldn't.
She moaned into the kiss, her body pressing against his, greedy and desperate as if she wanted to drown in him.
And then—he pulled them both closer, his arms around their waists, and kissed them together.
One moment to Maki, another to Mai, back and forth, as if he were tasting devotion and desire from each as if he wanted them to feel it—not just the kiss but the meaning behind it.
That they were his. That they belonged to him.
Their moans filled the air, shameless and raw, the sound of surrender, of hunger, of needing more.
When he finally pulled back, their lips were swollen, their breaths ragged. His gaze burned into theirs, dark and final.
The pool's surface shivered as Liam cut through the water, every stroke powerful and smooth.
When he reached the edge, he rose slowly, water cascading down his body in thick, shimmering rivulets. His hand pushed back his soaked hair, droplets running down his sharp jaw, tracing every line of muscle that seemed carved from stone.
His tight jockey, already dangerous before, now clung to him like sin itself—wet, stretched, shameless. It outlined every hard ridge of his body, bold and unapologetic, leaving nothing to the imagination.
A soft gasp escaped Aiko's lips. She stood by the edge, elegant and composed, but her eyes? They were hungry, lingering on him like a flame dancing over dry wood.
She stepped closer, holding out a glass of dark, rich wine. When their fingers brushed, the air crackled. A tiny shiver ran through her, but she masked it with a soft, knowing smile.
She stepped back, her gaze smoldering, and turned to Maki and Mai.
"He's waiting for you," She purred, her voice low and sultry, like velvet sliding over the skin. "Don't keep him waiting."
Maki and Mai exchanged a look. A slow, heated glance, their eyes dark with anticipation. The air felt thick, and heavy, like it was pressing against their skin.
Their gazes snapped back to Liam. And they groaned softly with need.
"Mmm..."
"Ahh..."
The sounds slipped out before they could stop them, low and breathy, thick with want.
Who could blame them?
He stood there, a vision of raw power, water dripping from him like liquid desire, his body radiating danger and dominance.
They stepped forward together, as if pulled by an invisible force.
"Nnngh..." Maki's breath hitched.
"Haa..." Mai exhaled, her cheeks flushed.
Every step was hesitant but full of heat, like lambs walking straight into the wolf's jaws. The water lapped at their ankles as they slid in, slow and sensual, gasping at the cool kiss of it against their heated skin.
Splash.
"Ah..." Maki sighed as the water embraced her.
"Mmm..." Mai shivered, her gaze locked on Liam.
Their eyes never left him. Not for a second. Hunger burned in their gaze, a silent plea, a challenge, a promise.
The tension was electric.
Liam just stood there, smirking, like a king watching his queens approach the throne.
But just as they reached the center, Liam's voice broke through the heavy silence.
"Stop!"
The single command cut through the air like a blade. It was sharp and absolute.
Maki and Mai froze instantly. Not a single movement, not even a breath of defiance. Their bodies trembled, but it wasn't fear. It was anticipation, heavy and thick. They waited, eyes wide, eager, their hearts pounding against their ribs.
Liam groaned low, pleased, and the sound reverberated through the air like thunder. His lips curled into a dark grin as he took a long, slow sip of his wine, his gaze never leaving them.
He was watching them, studying their reactions, owning their wills.
The silence stretched, delicious and tense, until finally, he spoke again.
"Take off your tops!"
It wasn't a request. It was an order.
A deep, commanding and dangerous command.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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