Dungeon Overlord: Monster Girl Harem!

The room was still small. Not dungeon-cell small, but just enough to make the walls feel closer when shut. Its faded wallpaper curled at the corners.

The bed creaked the moment Leonhardt sat down, and the scent of mildew mingled with the sweet, almost intoxicating air that Zafira carried with her body. It wasn't particularly romantic. It was cheap, dirty, and barely lit by a single flame flickering on the half-spent candle.

Yet Zafira adored it.

She dropped her cloak over the rust hook on the door, turning back with a mischievous smile that curled with something warm and wicked. "You didn't say no."

Leonhardt leaned back against the wall, one knee raised, his hands placed on the bed. "I didn't say yes either."

Her tail flicked once behind her, playful, testing the air. "Then why'd you follow me in here, Dungeon Master?"

"So I'm only your Master during these moments?" he chuckled, watching her intently.

Zafira stepped forward, hips swaying just a little more than needed, eyes half-lidded and gleaming golden. She reached up, slowly undoing the first clasp of her dress.

The sound was soft. A delicate snap.

Leonhardt's gaze didn't flicker away. It rarely did. But she noticed the twitch in his lips, the swallow of his throat and the shift of his shoulders as if rebalancing a weight that wasn't physical.

"You smell better in this room," she murmured. "It's strong... masculine and I want it."

Snap—Another clasp. The fabric slid down her shoulder, revealing the curve of her collarbone, the depths of her cleavage. She climbed onto his lap without waiting for an invitation, straddling him with a deliberate, slow grace.

Her hands touched his chest, just over his heart.

"Still beating," she said, almost teasing.

"For now."

Zafira leaned in. Her lips brushed his neck. "You promised me something."

"I said later."

She bit gently where his shoulder met his throat. "It's later now."

Leonhardt looked stunned, opening his eyes wide before he recovered and nodded.

His fingers moved up her spine, under the loosened back of her dress.

Her wings twitched and tail looped around his wrist, squeezing slightly, as if claiming him with the dull purple bruise on his flesh.

The sound of fabric moving across her smooth flesh as Leonhardt removed her dress and tossed it onto the ground.

He exposed Zafira's ethereal beauty to the moonlight, soft, pale skin, supple, round breasts heavy and swaying with her movements and tantalising curves, as her stomach tightened with a set of defined muscles.

"It's later, right?" Zafira whispered once more, flicking her fingers across Leonhardt's chest.

The bed creaked louder as he leaned forward, one arm behind her back, pulling her down with him. Although not soft, the cushion of his arm was enough for Zafira as they gently bounced off the bed.

His other hand caught the underside of her thigh, squeezing her soft flesh.

"You're quite adventurous this time," she whispered, leaning against his chest, closing her eyes as his heart thumped in her ears. "Aren't you scared I'll drain you dry?"

Leonhardt's hand slipped up her thighs, the smooth, silky skin.

His hands moved up her thighs, slipping beneath the fabric, pushing it until the cloth bunched around her waist. "A little touching won't hurt, right?" he grinned.

He slid a hand between her legs, finger gliding through her folds, teasing her clit in slow, careful circles.

She was already wet.

Zafira's eyes flashed before closing with a hitched breath. She pressed her forehead into his shoulder, biting down gently, as if she couldn't trust herself to speak.

"You were waiting for this?" he hummed.

She nuzzled into his chest, hiding her face. "It's your fault." The tips of her ears turned red, unable to stop the pleasant tingles coming from his fingers.

"You were waiting for it too," she breathed, moving against his hand. "Admit it."

She nuzzled into his chest, hiding her face. "It's your fault." Her ears twitched, red at the tips, but her voice was almost pouty.

Leonhardt tilted his head down, brushing his nose against her temple. "You've got a funny way of saying thank you."

"Hmph." She didn't look at him. Her fingers curled slightly into his chest. "I didn't ask you to…"

His hand slid slowly between her thighs again, and she twitched.

"…to do that," she finished in a breathier voice.

"Didn't stop me, though." His tone was light, but his fingers were intentional, trailing along her folds without rushing, spreading the slickness with slow, warm pressure.

She hissed through her teeth, trying not to flinch. "I'm not some… human girl you can just pet into obedience."

"Don't want you obedient," he said. "I like watching you squirm."

Her glare flicked up to him, then faltered when he dipped a single finger in. Not fast. Just enough to part her entrance and sink into the heat.

"Hah—!" she gasped, biting her lip immediately.

Her pussy was wet, but tight. Inhumanly so. Her walls were soft, spongy, sensitive. They gripped his finger greedily, pulsing in gentle waves like her body didn't know whether to let go or drag him deeper.

And warm. Gods, she was warm.

Her breath stuttered. "I-It's not that… I mean, you're just touching... I'm only reacting because it's new—!"

"Sure," he said. "Just instincts. Nothing to do with the way you're clenching already."

"I told you—ahh…!"

She cut herself off, back arching as he curled his finger just a little, dragging the pad slowly against the plush upper wall.

"Hng... nngh..."

The little noises she made weren't practised. They slipped out without warning — lips parted, cheeks burning and gasping for air, "haa… aah… mmng…" sounds that made Leonhardt smirk.

"Sounding pretty needy for someone not enjoying this."

Her tail lashed once, then wrapped around his wrist like a reflex.

"Sh-Shut up… I'm not… ngh...!"

Another curl. A shallow thrust. The second finger slid in beside the first, spreading Zafira's warmth around his digits as they twisted, and her walls clamped hard.

"Ahhh—!"

The heat built in her stomach too fast. It wasn't like the stories. She was supposed to take control, drown Leonhardt in her scent, ride him senseless, leave him a wreck. That's what she was told, what she planned.

Nothing like when she attacked him.

Instead, she was the one panting. Trembling. Gripping the sheets as her stomach quivered under each slow pump of Leon's fingers.

Her insides were wetter now, messy, a slick coating on his fingers as they moved in and out in a soft rhythm. He wasn't rushing or fingering her. He was stirring. Drawing her open. Kneading that sweet spot over and over with maddening precision.

"W-why are you so… good at this…" she whispered through a groan, eyes fluttering shut.

Leonhardt leaned in, lips grazing her flushed ear. "Because I want to watch your face melting in pleasure from my fingers."

Zafira's ears burned hotter.

"I'm not... cute," she muttered, voice cracking.

He kissed her cheek.

"You are when you moan like that."

Her whole body jolted, thighs tightening around his hand.

Zafira's claws gripped the blanket while opening her thighs wider, letting I'm tease and toy with her more. Her cunt was dripping now, obscenely wet, every thrust of his fingers echoing with slick, filthy sounds.

Schlk… schlup… chlek…

"Mmngh… aah… aah—!" Her voice trembled with each thrust.

He worked her gently but deliberately, fingers coated in her juices, moving with that perfect angle. Tracing her walls, flicking across the smooth, bumpy flesh. Not rough. Not rushed. Just deep.

Her inner walls made the sounds louder — soft, pillowy flesh squeezing and sucking at his fingers like her pussy didn't want to let them go. Every pump stirred up more wetness, more heat, more need.

She moaned sharply, body jolting. "L-Leonhardt—what—hng…!"

Each squelch was louder now, his fingers gliding with ease through the mess between her legs.

She felt everything. He made sure of that. He curled his fingers again, slow and smooth, pressing up against the soft, spongy spot inside her that made her body twitch violently every time.

"Hh-hhhah… nnf… I-I'm gonna—ahhh!"

Schlk—chlk—splrp!

Zafira reached her first true climax, and it hit her hard in surging waves.

As if Leonhardt pulled the plug from her soul, a pleasure rushed through her body, leaking from that small opening into her muscles, flesh and mind.

Her back arched, her mouth hung open with a soft, drawn-out moan as her pussy spasmed wildly around his fingers clenching with every wave.

Her juices spilt out, coating his hand, dripping down onto the bed in wet rivulets.

She collapsed against the mattress, twitching, helpless.

Her thighs spasmed. Her pussy still fluttered, every gentle squeeze around his fingers making more squelching sounds as her orgasm dragged out.

Schlch… chlup… nnchu…

Her breath came out in soft, high gasps: "Haa… aaah… nnnh…"

She couldn't speak. Couldn't think.

Just lay there, fucked by fingers, trembling and overwhelmed.

Leonhardt pulled out slowly, and her slick stuck to his skin in strings. The sound of her pussy releasing his fingers made her moan softly in embarrassment.

Pop…

He licked his fingers clean.

"Sweet," he muttered, eyes on her.

Zafira whimpered. Her thighs pressed together, sticky and hot. Her body twitched again at the memory of the sounds she'd made — her body, making those filthy, desperate, sucking noises for him.

She didn't even fight him when he stood up.

Not until—

KNOCK.

A sharp, singular knock disturbed their moment as Zafira's ears twitched.

Leonhardt turned to the door, sweat still glistening across his chest.

He opened it.

No one.

Just a letter.

A Black envelope.

Her voice came slurred, hoarse with exhaustion and ruinous pleasure.

"…That's not human magic," she murmured.

Leonhardt looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed. "You recognise it?"

Her golden eyes narrowed as she rested her chin on his shoulder, tail swaying slowly behind her. "It's demon," she said flatly. "But it's not mine either."

Zafira touched the envelope, her fingers grazing over the symbol. The wax hissed faintly, rejecting her. She jerked her hand back with a growl, licking her thumb where a small line of blood now bloomed.

"Tch. Warded."

Leonhardt set the letter down on the crooked dresser beside the bed and turned back to her. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing across her bottom lip, still swollen from earlier.

"You're still trembling," he said softly.

Zafira let out a breathless laugh, her body pressing into him. "And you're still hard."

His eyes darkened.

"Then maybe we're not done."