Soon, the warm water rained down upon her, drenching her completely. Her once-dry hair darkened, sticking to her cheeks and neck, while beads of water rolled down her smooth skin. Her breath hitched as she felt a strong arm snake around her waist.
"Yelp!"
A soft, startled sound escaped her lips as Mikael pulled her against him without warning. Instinctively, her hands shot forward, pressing against his bare chest. Her violet eyes widened slightly at the sensation.
'Firm…' she thought absentmindedly, her fingers twitching against the hardened muscles beneath them. The heat of his body contrasted sharply with the cool water, sending an unfamiliar shiver down her spine. Curiosity overtook her embarrassment, and before she realized it, her fingers began to wander.
Mikael observed her reaction with mild amusement, but before he could comment, a blur of movement caught his eye.
Kiara.
Her patience had reached its limit. Watching Lyra freely explore Mikael's body—her Mikael—ignited something primal inside her. Possessiveness flared in her dark blue eyes as she acted without hesitation, claiming what was hers.
Without warning, she grabbed the back of Mikael's head and pulled him toward her. Their lips crashed together in a heated kiss, the intensity of her actions leaving no room for hesitation. Her soft lips moved against his, demanding and hungry, as if trying to remind him that she was still there—that she was still his. The sheer force of her passion sent sparks racing down his spine.
Mikael didn't resist. How could he? The way her body pressed against his, her curves molding into him perfectly, made it impossible to do anything but reciprocate. His hands instinctively roamed her slick, naked form, his fingers tracing over water-slicked skin, relishing in the way she trembled under his touch.
Kiara let out a soft moan as she melted into his embrace, her body pressing against his as she savored the intoxicating sensation of his hands roaming over her skin. Their lips moved in perfect sync, hunger and passion intertwining until the need for air forced them apart.
Breathless, Mikael turned his gaze toward Lyra, who had been silently watching the scene unfold. Her wide purple eyes held a mix of curiosity, shyness, and something deeper—an unspoken desire she was struggling to voice. Meeting her gaze, Mikael tilted his head slightly, his green eyes locking onto hers as he slowly closed the distance between them.
A silent question passed between them. Do you want this?
Lyra hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering not with words, but with action. She stepped forward, closing the final gap between them and pressing her soft lips against his. Unlike Kiara's earlier feverish intensity, Lyra's kiss was tentative, delicate—filled with nervous energy yet undeniably laced with longing.
Mikael responded immediately, his free arm encircling her slim waist, drawing her closer as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues met in a swirling dance, an invisible battle where experience clashed with inexperience. Mikael effortlessly dominated, his movements fluid and assured, while Lyra struggled to keep up, her lack of experience evident as she faltered under his lead.
"Mmh…!" A muffled sound escaped Lyra as she tried to push back, but she was quickly overwhelmed, left with no choice but to surrender to the intoxicating sensation.
Then, out of nowhere—
"Hiss!" Mikael abruptly broke the kiss, pulling back with a sharp intake of breath. Lyra, dazed and breathless, instinctively took a step back, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen from their passionate exchange. She blinked up at him, confusion mixed with lingering desire as she struggled to catch her breath.
But Mikael's attention wasn't on her anymore. He had just felt something sharp sink into the side of his neck.
A quick glance told him everything.
Kiara.
The culprit was right there, clinging to his side, her dark blue eyes flashing with smug satisfaction as her soft body pressed against him. Seeing him caught up in the kiss with Lyra had made her a little too jealous, and in true Kiara fashion, she had acted on impulse—sinking her teeth into his neck with surprising force, as if marking her territory.
A dangerous glint flickered in Mikael's eyes.
"Smack!"
A loud, echoing slap resonated through the shower as his palm landed firmly on Kiara's ass.
Her bouncy cheeks jiggled beautifully from the impact, and a startled gasp escaped her lips as she jerked slightly, a mix of surprise and excitement flashing across her face. Mikael didn't go easy on the punishment—after all, she had bitten him hard enough to leave a mark.
"Stop being naughty," he scolded, watching as Kiara pouted in exaggerated indignation.
She huffed, rubbing her sore backside before slipping behind him, her arms wrapping around his torso as she pressed her cheek against his wet back. Then, with a sudden shift, she grabbed the shower handle and began running water through his thick black hair.
"Fine, then let me wash you," she declared, her voice filled with stubborn determination as she reached for the shampoo.
At the same moment, Lyra, who had just managed to regain her composure, hesitated before nervously stepping forward. A deep blush adorned her face as she fidgeted with a strand of her wet hair, gathering her courage before stammering, "M-Me too…! L-Let me help you wash your body!"
Her voice was louder than usual, as if she were forcing herself to break through her own reservations.
Without waiting for his response, she grabbed a nearby bottle of body wash, squeezed some of the thick liquid onto her hands, and slowly approached him. Her movements were hesitant, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached out and began applying the soap to his skin, her touches gentle yet filled with determination.
At the same time, Mikael felt something impossibly soft pressing against his back.
Kiara.
Her full, perky breasts molded against his skin as she worked the shampoo into his scalp, her fingers massaging with deliberate care. The sensation was incredibly soothing—almost hypnotic.
He let out a slow exhale.
'This is the life.'
A mixture of comfort and desire swirled in his mind as he watched the two beautiful women before him, both of whom held a place in his heart. They worked in silent harmony, their hands gliding over his body as they meticulously cleaned him.
The earlier tension in the air began to shift, the atmosphere gradually mellowing into something calmer, more intimate.
By the time they were finished, Mikael stood fully cleansed, the heat of the water washing away any lingering traces of soap. He stretched slightly, rolling his shoulders before flashing a teasing smirk.
"Well, now that my turn is done and I'm all clean… who's next?"
Lyra hesitated, her fingers nervously playing with a wet strand of hair as she struggled to find the courage to speak.
But Kiara?
She had zero hesitation.
"Me!"
She practically pounced on him, pressing herself against his chest with an eager grin, making it clear that she had no intention of letting anyone else go first.
Meanwhile, Lyra watched from the side, a complicated mix of emotions flickering across her face. Disappointment. Relief. Nervous anticipation.
The idea of Mikael washing her—of his hands gliding over her bare skin—made her heart pound erratically. She still needed time to mentally prepare herself, but she knew it was coming.
Mikael noticed her expression and understood what was going through her mind. She was waiting for her turn, something he knew she wasn't particularly comfortable with, but unfortunately, he had no way around it. His hands were limited, and no matter how efficient he wanted to be, he couldn't wash both of them at the same time.
'Or maybe I could?'
The thought of clones suddenly crossed his mind, only for him to immediately shake his head in disgust. 'Yeah, no. Never. That shit is way too toxic—it's like NTR-ing yourself… Well, unless the clones don't have independent thinking and only act as an extra pair of hands, then maybe...'
A shiver ran down his spine at the mere thought of independent clones, and he decisively shut down that line of thinking. Some things were better left unexplored.
With that distraction gone, his attention returned to the beautiful, eager blue-haired girl clinging to him.
Scanning their surroundings, Mikael searched for a place where he could sit while washing Kiara's hair, but finding nothing, he opted for a simple solution. A casual flick of his fingers, and a comfortable seat made of earth molded itself into existence, its surface smooth and unaffected by the falling water.
Satisfied, he sat down, Kiara still clinging to him, her soft body pressing against his. However, as he was about to create a separate seat for her, she interrupted him.
"No need," she declared, mischief glinting in her deep blue eyes.
Before he could question her, she shifted, placing her firm backside directly on his lap, her back facing him.
It was an innocent enough action—until Mikael felt something.
His already-hard manhood, which had been standing at attention thanks to the earlier events, was now comfortably nestled between her plush asscheeks, her soft flesh enveloping him completely.
"Mm~ There, all good~" she cooed teasingly, deliberately wiggling her hips, causing his length to rub against her skin.
Mikael forced himself to ignore the intoxicating sensation, reminding himself that he didn't want Kiara's "washing session" to last too long. Lyra was still waiting, and he wasn't about to make her stand around awkwardly for too long.
With that in mind, he conjured a bottle of women's shampoo into his hand and got to work. His fingers moved skillfully through her dark blue hair, massaging her scalp as he worked the lather in.
"Nnnh… Like that," Kiara moaned, but her voice had lost its earlier sensual edge.
She was simply enjoying the sensation, fully relaxing under his touch. Even the small, teasing movements of her hips ceased as she focused on indulging in the soothing massage.
Unfortunately for her, Mikael didn't intend to drag this out. After thoroughly rinsing her hair, he moved on to the next step. He poured a generous amount of body wash into his hands and, without altering their position, began applying it to her body.
His hands moved methodically, covering every accessible area, but he wouldn't deny that certain parts received a little… extra attention.
Her breasts, round and soft in his hands, were definitely given a bit more care. And when he reached her ass, his fingers kneaded and squeezed, his touch lingering perhaps longer than necessary.
Not that Kiara seemed to mind. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Get up. We need to do your lower body," Mikael murmured, giving Kiara a playful slap on the butt.
She let out a plaintive whimper but obeyed, turning around to face him. The moment she did, Mikael's gaze was inevitably drawn to her perky red cherries standing erect atop her ample chest.
Just as he was about to say something, Kiara, in an unexpectedly bold display, raised one of her long, slender legs high toward him. The movement was anything but modest, her leg parting wide enough to fully expose the delicate pink lips between her thighs.
Mikael's eyes widened in surprise.
She had always been shameless in private, but this was something else entirely. However, for Kiara, all remnants of embarrassment had vanished the moment she remembered she had a rival in the room. It was ironic—she had been the one to let Lyra into this intimate moment, but now that she was caught up in the heat of the action, her possessive instincts flared. She needed to assert her dominance, to make it clear to Lyra that she was the closest to Mikael, the most daring, the most intimate. That Mikael's was HER!
And so, she exposed herself completely, as if daring Mikael to do something about it.
Noticing his stunned expression, she tilted her head and asked with faux innocence, "What is it?"
Mikael didn't respond with words. Instead, his hand moved to grasp her raised leg firmly.
'He's gonna take me!' Kiara thought excitedly, anticipation flooding her body as warmth gathered between her thighs—though it wasn't just from the steaming water.
But, to her dismay, Mikael did nothing of the sort. Instead, he merely washed her leg and lower body with clinical efficiency, completely ignoring her blatant invitation. Well, as much as one could ignore the thick tension hanging between two people in such an intimate setting.
Author Note:
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