My Taboo Harem! - Chapter 214 - 214: Valentina

Phei didn’t give her a second to recover after her bold declaration.

His hands—strong… yet somehow still fucking gentle—hooked into the waistband of her soaked grey shorts and ripped them down in one savage yank.

The fabric peeled away from her skin with a lewd, wet schlick, clinging greedily to her thighs because of the thick rivers of her own arousal that had been dripping down them for the last hour.

She hadn’t worn panties—of course the desperate little slut hadn’t—and as the shorts tangled at her ankles, she kicked them off blindly, legs spreading again without being told, leaving her completely naked, utterly exposed under the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the empty gym.

He stepped back, chest still heaving, cock slick and heavy against his thigh, and just looked.

Those unnatural violet eyes—glowing faintly in the dimness, slits of pure predator—raked over her like he was memorizing every curve, every scar, every trembling inch.

Valentina squirmed on the bench, thighs rubbing together slickly, trying and failing to hide the fresh gush of wetness that leaked from her at being stared at like this. Cum still dripped lazily from her chin, landing in warm splats on her chest, streaking down the ridges of her abs in slow, obscene trails.

And he looked at her face—

Valentina was beautiful, but not in the soft, fragile way the world usually worshipped. Hers was a sharp, fierce beauty—high, sculpted cheekbones that caught the light like blades, a strong, square jaw that radiated power and defiance even when she was wrecked. Her full lips—still swollen obscenely from choking on his cock—were parted, glossy with spit and cum, curved in a way that promised both danger and devotion.

Dark eyes, almost black, stared up at him, pupils blown so wide they looked drugged with lust. Sweat-soaked strands of her raven-black hair clung to her forehead, neck, and sharp collarbones—wild, untamed, nothing polished or pretend.

This wasn’t doll-like prettiness, her pretty face—etched with grit, hunger, and unapologetic strength—and it made her fucking irresistible.

But her body… Christ, her body was pure sin carved into muscle and curves.

Phei circled her slowly, predator stalking prey, eyes feasting. She whined low in her throat, hands twitching at her sides like she wanted to cover herself but knew better—knew he’d punish any attempt to hide what was his.

Her breasts—full, heavy, perfectly round-shaped and firm… thanks to years of heavy lifting and her good physique—rose and fell with each ragged breath, still glazed and shining with his cum, nipples dark and stiff, begging to be abused again.

Lower, those femalish hot abs flexed under his stare—a true female six-pack, deep-etched and vascular, not staged or dehydrated, but earned through blood and iron.

Sweat and semen pooled in the grooves between each ridge, trickling down in slow, filthy rivers toward her navel. He dragged one finger through the central line, collecting the mess, and she arched violently into the touch, a broken gasp tearing from her throat.

“Turn around,” he growled, voice low and commanding, those unnatural purple eyes flashing with dark, predatory amusement as she obeyed instantly—no hesitation, no tease—spinning on the bench to present her back to him, bending forward at the waist without needing to be told, offering herself like the well-trained, desperate slut she was.

Her back hit him first, and fuck, it was a masterpiece.

The deep dimples at the base of her spine begged for his thumbs, and he could already imagine pressing into them while he fucked her from behind.

But his gaze dropped lower, and his breath caught.

That ass.

Goddamn, that perfect, bubbly, strong ass—two round, high globes sculpted from years of heavy squats, firm as marble yet with just enough soft fat to make them bounce and jiggle hypnotically.

They sat high and proud on her frame, the kind of ass that turned heads in the gym and made men weak, now arched and presented just for him. He reached out and palmed one cheek—fingers sinking into the warm, resilient flesh, squeezing hard enough to watch it yield and then snap back, unyielding muscle beneath velvet skin.

The underside creases where cheek met thigh were shadowed, slick with sweat, and he dragged his fingers along them slowly, feeling her entire body shudder violently, a sharp hitch in her breath.

“Spread,” he murmured, voice dark velvet.

She obeyed instantly—legs parting wide, feet planted firm, ass lifting higher as she braced her forearms on the bench, back arching deeper to push that perfect rear toward him like an offering.

The movement made everything flex—hamstrings cording like steel cables down the backs of her thighs, teardrop quads bulging huge and defined on the fronts, every fiber etched and vascular from endless lunges, sprints, and deadlifts.

Those thighs trembled under his stare, thick and powerful, yet the inner surfaces were slick and shining—not just sweat, but thick, creamy arousal dripping in slow, obscene strings from her untouched pussy, coating the sensitive skin and running in rivulets toward her knees.

He traced the front of one thigh with his knuckles, feeling the raw power jump beneath his touch, then slid to the back and gripped hard—fingers digging into the muscle deep enough to leave fresh marks, branding her. She moaned low, pushing back into his hand.

But the inner thighs… Christ. That was where she was softest, most vulnerable. Pale, silky skin framing the swollen, dripping mess of her fat pussy—lips puffy and flushed a deep, needy pink, parted naturally from how aroused she was, her hard little clit peeking out throbbing and desperate.

Clear slick coated everything—glazing her folds, shining on her inner thighs, even pooling in a shameful puddle on the bench beneath her. It leaked steadily now, a slow, constant trickle of pure desperation, the air thick with her musky, sweet scent—the smell of a woman so turned on she was falling apart just from being inspected.

Phei’s purple gaze burned there longest, hunger turning those glowing slits almost black. She squirmed harder, thighs shaking, a feral, broken moan ripping from her throat as she fought not to collapse.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby,” he rasped, voice rough with raw approval. “Leaking down those strong thighs like a desperate whore just because I’m looking. This perfect trainer body—every muscle, every drop of slick dripping from that greedy cunt—it’s all mine to ruin now.”

He pressed in close behind her, heat radiating off his skin. One hand slid up the ladder of her spine, fingers splaying possessively between her shoulder blades, pinning her in place. The other teased the edge of her dripping slit—knuckles brushing her swollen lips, collecting her wetness, spreading it deliberately as she gasped and pushed back, silently begging.

“Good girl,” he growled against her ear, lips brushing the shell. “Stay just like that. I’m going to take my time destroying you.”

Phei’s hand was still sliding up the curve of her spine, fingers digging possessively into the hard, sweat-slick muscle there, his voice a low, filthy rumble against her skin.

“Gonna take my time destroying you, Valentina. Gonna spread this perfect cunt open, lick every drop of slick off your thighs, then fuck you until you’re screaming my name and this whole gym smells like us. Every fucking inch.”

She was trembling—thighs shaking, thick arousal dripping in slow, obscene strings from her swollen pussy lips down the insides of her legs, breath coming in short, desperate, animal gasps. Her empty cunt clenched hard around nothing, spasming visibly as his words sank into her like hot brands.

Two weeks. Two weeks of torture of pretending she wasn’t absolutely soaked every time he spotted her squat, of going home and fucking herself raw with her fingers or toys to fantasies of exactly this: him behind her, owning her, finally giving her the brutal pounding she’d been starving for.

And now he was going to take his time?