The room was thick with the sweet, musky odor of sex, a heady cocktail of sweat, spent passion, and something uniquely theirs.
Emma lay face up on the bed, her legs parted slightly in a posture of complete exhaustion. Her body was a canvas of their recent frenzy. Dark, bruising hickeys bloomed across the soft skin of her throat and the swell of her breasts. Faint red imprints from a tight grip marked her hips and thighs.
Her lips were swollen and puffy, glistening faintly, and strands of her hair were matted to her cheek and forehead with a subtle, sticky sheen of Nova's cum. A fine tremor ran through her limbs, a testament to the intensity of her ordeal. Her pussy, red and puffy from the relentless pounding, was still gaping slightly, a slow, thick trickle of white cum leaking from her abused hole to pool on the sheets beneath her.
Her ass was in no better state; her cheeks were spread just enough to reveal her puckered hole, also swollen and leaking a steady stream of Nova's seed, a clear sign of the brutal double-penetration she had endured.
Nova scooped a limp Lily into his arms in a princess carry, her head lolling against his chest. He looked over at the woman on the bed. "Emma," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You wanna bath?"
Emma groaned—a broken sound—eyes barely opening a sliver. One hand twitched, but she didn't move. "...no… please… can't… move…" she whispered, the words dissolving into a hoarse sigh.
Nova smiled in dark satisfaction and with sharp snap of his fingers, the air in the room shimmered. The musky smell vanished, replaced by a clean, neutral scent. The sticky patches on Emma's skin and hair dissolved, and the thick river of cum flowing from her ass and cunt dried up. As the healing magic washed over her, she groaned again, this time in deep, bone-melting comfort. A thick, warm blanket materialized over her, tucking her in gently.
He carried Lily through the doorway and into the adjoining bathroom.
Later, the steam of the bath filled the room. Nova leaned back against the porcelain, and Lily lay against him, her body nestled between his legs, her back resting on his chest. Her arms were draped loosely around his neck.
As she shifted to get more comfortable, a sharp hiss of pain escaped her lips. "God," she complained, her voice raspy, "you and your clones were fucking brutal." She reached back, her hands gingerly rubbing her asscheeks, which were glowing a bright, angry red. The distinct outlines of multiple hands were clearly imprinted on both sides.
Nova smiled, a dark, satisfied curve of his lips. His hand traced a path down her spine, and he could feel the faint, raised lines of more handprints marring the skin of her lower back and waist, evidence of how she'd been manhandled, held, and positioned by him and his duplicates.
His hand continued its journey lower, cupping one of her sore, reddened asscheeks. He squeezed, firmly. Lily cried out, a choked moan that was a perfect blend of pain and sharp, unexpected pleasure. He then began to rub the flesh in a slow, soothing circle, as if trying to massage the ache away.
Lily turned her head, laying her cheek against his chest. The skin there was a mess of angry red nail marks and dark, hickeys that trailed down to his flat stomach. "My whole body is sore," she mumbled into his skin. "You were particularly rough today." She shivered slightly, recalling the details. "I swear, at one point you had three cocks in me at once, one in my ass, one in my cunt, and one fucking my throat so deep I couldn't breathe. My jaw still aches from how hard you face-fucked me, and my thighs are still sticky with your cum and mine."
His deep chuckle vibrated through her. "Do you want me to heal you, like I healed Emma?"
Lily shook her head immediately. "No," she said, her voice firm but soft. "Although I'm really, really sore, this... this soreness and pain feels satisfying. It's a reminder of how well you used me. If I heal it, that satisfaction fades away, and the sex feels incomplete."
Nova's smile widened, and he squeezed her body tighter against his, his arms wrapping around her waist.
Lily smiled contentedly. Nova's voice was a low murmur next to her ear. "So, did you like the taste?"
A faint blush colored her cheeks, and she nodded. "Indeed," she admitted. "Your wish ability is really good. Making your cum taste like chocolate... it was a treat after you made me eat Emma's pussy clean."
He chuckled again, his hand sliding up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over a still-hard nipple. "And you, my little slut," he whispered, his voice thick with lust, "you were a fountain tonight. I've never seen you squirt so much. You soaked the bed, you soaked my clones, you soaked my face."
Lily wiggled her ass against him, a fresh wave of arousal mixing with the dull ache. "What can I say? You know all the right buttons to push to turn me into a messy, begging whore."
Nova let out a low breath, his hand drifting lazily along the curve of her waist. The water rippled around them, carrying the fading heat of everything they had done. Lily shivered when his fingers brushed over one of the faint marks left on her skin — a reminder of how thoroughly she had been handled earlier.
She relaxed back against him, her cheek resting over the left side of his chest. The bathwater eased over her body in slow waves each time Nova shifted, the warmth soaking deeper into her sore muscles. Her earlier boldness softened into a quiet vulnerability now that the adrenaline was gone, leaving her breathing unsteady but peaceful.
Nova kept tracing slow circles along her spine. Every small touch of his hand seemed to melt another layer of tension from her, her body gradually sinking more fully into his hold. The steam curled around them like a warm blanket, softening the edges of the room and quieting the noise of her thoughts.
Her eyelashes fluttered, growing heavier by the minute as the heat, exhaustion, and intimacy wrapped around her like a lullaby.
Lily's breathing grew slower with every gentle stroke of Nova's hand across her back. The warm water lapped softly at her skin, steam rising around them in curling waves as her eyelids fluttered heavier and heavier.
Nova felt the gradual uncoiling of tension in her muscles — the way her shoulders dropped, the way her fingers loosened their hold around his neck, the way her head rested more fully on his chest. Her heartbeat, which had been fast and uneven earlier, settled into a calm, steady rhythm against him.
After a few moments, he glanced down.
Lily had drifted completely into sleep.
Her lips parted slightly, her damp hair sticking to her cheek, her expression relaxed in a peaceful way she rarely showed when awake. She looked exhausted, warm, soft — and utterly content.
Nova lifted one hand and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face. Then, with a quiet snap of his fingers, a soft ripple of magic shimmered through the room.
Lily's body vanished from his lap in a gentle burst of light and reappeared beside Emma on the bed, tucked under a fresh blanket identical to Emma's. The two women instinctively shifted closer in their sleep, their breathing syncing without waking.
The bathroom fell quiet again.
Nova exhaled, leaning back further into the tub, letting the warm water rise over his chest. Steam curled around him as he closed his eyes briefly, letting the tension from two battles and three hours of chaos fade from his muscles.
Three hours here meant he had about twenty-seven hours left before returning to the Clover Kingdom.
Time to choose a partner.
Lily was excluded immediately — too many responsibilities in this world, and still a bit rusty after St. Mungo's. Narcissa wasn't an option either. Strong, but not suited for frontline combat at the level he needed.
That left his students, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.
He'd trained all three. He knew their strengths, weaknesses, and how far they had grown.
Hermione was brilliant, but her fighting style still relied too much on structured spellcasting. Draco had good instincts, but he wasn't completely stable in high-pressure combat yet.
Which left—
"Harry Potter," Nova said to himself.
He nodded once, decision final.
"Yes. It's Harry."
He let out a slow breath, water rippling gently around him.
"It has nothing to do with the fact that he was one of my childhood heroes," he muttered. But the small smirk on his lips said otherwise.
x------x
[CHAPTER: 149 (GRIMOIRES) IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON]
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