Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem-Chapter 950: Start

He didn’t hear her footsteps, only felt the warmth of her slender, feminine form press behind him. She rose up onto the tips of her toes, her lithe legs stretching as her arms reached around to cover his eyes with two soft, broad green leaves. Smooth, cool, fragrant... undeniably fresh-plucked from whatever garden the girls had raided for the event.

"Fair, unfair, punishment or praise, good elf lover, bad elf lover..." she whispered against the curve of his neck, "Let’s just leave all of it behind for today..."

And then she kissed him.

A single, drawn-out smooch planted gently on the nape of his neck, sweet and sensual, enough to make even a man like him shudder.

Now that their playful man was fully blindfolded by her leafy hands, Seraphiel sent the message. <You can come now.>

Excitement swelled in the air.

The soft click of heels, the pad of barefoot steps, the faint jingle of anklets and bells. Feminine laughter trickled in the breeze. The courtyard, just moments ago quiet under twilight’s hush, bloomed into something radiant and full.

A symphony of scent greeted his senses next: floral perfumes, spiced oils, the warm musk of clean skin. Each fragrance was unique, yet all so familiar. Comforting. Teasing.

Giggles and whispers followed, light and breathy.

"You really blindfolded him?"

"Hah! Of course I did."

"Seraphiel, you’re evil."

"I can’t wait anymore..."

The chorus of voices swirled around him as soft hands—dozens of them—began guiding him gently forward. One rested on his chest, another curled around his wrist, more still brushing his arms and shoulders, one girl was even bold enough to reach into his pants and use her grip on his penis to do her part of steering him into the unknown.

Their excited laughter and adoring giggles spun in the air, a melody of mischief and affection.

While he was being guided forward, Lucille—the battle-hungry, blood-loving warrior—broke off from the formation and made her way toward Serika, who had stood off to the side, a bit uncertain what she should do. The ex-Fire Sovereign was wholly out of her element over here.

Lucille grinned. "Come here, Serika."

Serika raised a brow with slight confusion, but leaned in when Lucille crooked a finger, lowering her head to allow the woman to whisper into her ear.

But just as Lucille opened her mouth, she paused. Squinted toward Quinlan. "Wait."

"What?"

"I don’t trust him."

Serika blinked. "You don’t trust him?"

Lucille pointed accusingly. "He’s totally listening in. Furthermore, I don’t even know if he’s gotten a hold of some new ability that gives him super hearing on top of his already keen primordial senses... He’s way too much of a cheat. We must be careful."

From behind the wall of feminine laughter, Quinlan’s voice emerged, dry and unamused. "Seriously? First, my women blind me, and now you’re aiming to take my hearing on top?"

Instead of being guilt-tripped by his horrible accusations, Lucille just grinned wickedly. "That’s exactly what I’m doing."

She turned to Kitsara. "Kits. Seal his overly curious ears, would you?"

Kitsara, who was already busy molesting his pecker, sighed, "Very well."

With a snap of her fingers and a swirl of shapeshifting magic, two of her tails elongated and twisted into a pair of glimmering ear cuffs. They floated toward Quinlan’s ears, weightless and elegant, before clasping on. Instantly, all sound vanished from his world.

Inside the muffled cocoon, Quinlan wasn’t overly impressed. "Really?"

But of course, even if they said something in response, he wasn’t privy to their words any longer.

Lucille smirked in satisfaction. "Now that’s more like it."

She turned back to Serika, tugged her down by the wrist again, and leaned up to whisper in her ear. The Solar Fist was already tense with anticipation to have a steamy rodeo for the first time in her life... and the more Lucille spoke, the more that tension morphed into blush-ridden bewilderment.

Lucille’s voice remained low and sultry, like a conspirator revealing a carefully constructed ambush.

"Hold on." Serika’s face was now very, very red. "You actually coordinated all of this?"

Lucille grinned impishly. "Of course. We spent multiple months without anything to do once we returned from battles for the day. We planned, and planned, and planned... just for this day, girl."

Serika rubbed her temple and let out a breathy, flustered laugh. "My sisters turned out to be really naughty women."

Lucille just shrugged innocently. "I have no clue whatever you could mean, darling..."

Next, Quinlan was guided forward. He could feel the ground beneath him change as they stepped from the forest path to the polished marble floor. It would have been easy to assume they were taking him to the master bedroom of the mansion... and he would have welcomed it with open arms.

But the steps continued.

A staircase creaked beneath their feet.

Another floor.

He realized that they weren’t taking him to the master bedroom at all. No... they were ascending. After one final set of steps, the air turned crisp.

The moment they passed through the last doorway, he could sense it: an openness, a vastness overhead. The scent of evening dew and fresh flowers swirled around him, mingled with the scent of the women he loved.

’The rooftop...?’

All Quinlan could do was stand, utterly blind and deaf, with Kitsara’s shimmering illusion wrapped over his ears and Seraphiel’s cool green leaves pressed to his eyes.

And then, all at once...

The leaves were pulled away. The cuffs vanished.

And sound and sight crashed back into his world like a tidal wave.

He blinked, stunned, and then smiled.

His women stood around him in a circle, bathed in moonlight and starlight.

Their eyes sparkled, not just with desire, but with warmth. With love. With pride.

Then, in perfect harmony, a chorus of their voices rose, soft and jubilant:

"You’ve come so far already..."

"You’ve worked so hard for all of us."

"You’ve been through so many arduous challenges, yet..."

"You never gave up on us or yourself."

"Challenge after challenge, you return to our waiting arms."

"We’re so proud of you, Quinlan!"

"You deserve a celebration like no other..."

"So now..."

"Let us reward our man properly."

It wasn’t just a seductive promise. It was a declaration of gratitude, of loyalty, of love, and joy.

Quinlan didn’t need the stars to shine that night.

Because all of his light stood right in front of him.

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