100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids-Chapter 356 - 355- Bringing Within Tower

Viktor’s purple eyes flicked between the two women. Mother and daughter. Both gorgeous in that effortless elven way—flawless skin, delicate features, bodies that curved in all the right places despite the threadbare dresses clinging to them.

The daughter—Gwen—was still unconscious in his grip, her head lolled against his arm. Her breast filled his palm completely, soft and warm through the thin fabric. He gave it another squeeze, testing the weight, the firmness. Young. Fertile. Perfect.

The mother—Vivian—stood frozen, eyes locked on her daughter’s limp form. Terror etched across her face, but underneath it... resignation. The look of someone who’d run out of options.

Good.

Viktor shifted Gwen’s weight, adjusting his hold. Then, with deliberate slowness, he bent slightly and slid his other arm beneath her knees.

Princess carry.

Gwen’s body settled against his chest, her head rolling onto his shoulder. Her thighs draped over his forearm, thick and soft. The dress rode up slightly, exposing pale skin that practically glowed in the dim alley light.

Vivian’s breath hitched. "Please—"

"Sigh," Viktor interrupted, his tone casual. Almost bored. "But I heard Elves are good at caretaking and nurturing?"

He looked directly at Vivian now, his dark eyes drinking in every detail of her body.

Thick.

That was the first word that came to mind.

Her hips flared wide beneath that worn green dress, straining the fabric at the seams. Her thighs pressed together, creating a gap at the top that spoke of softness, of plushness. The kind of thighs that would wrap around a man’s waist and hold him deep while he bred her.

Her breasts were heavy, hanging full and low against her chest. Larger than her daughter’s. The neckline of her dress cut across them, creating a valley of cleavage that moved with each panicked breath she took.

And her ass—fuck, even from the front he could tell it was fat. The dress clung to her curves, outlining everything. Maternal thickness. The body of a woman who’d given birth, who’d nursed, who’d been made soft and fertile by motherhood.

Viktor’s cock twitched.

’Fuckable,’ his mind supplied. ’Maternally fuckable.’

"Wh-what?" Vivian stammered, her hands hovering uselessly in the air.

"I have a few pregnant wives," Viktor continued, his voice calm. Conversational. Like he wasn’t holding her unconscious daughter in a princess carry after knocking her out. "Can you nurse them until they give birth?"

"Sorry?" Vivian blinked, confusion warring with fear on her face.

Viktor’s expression didn’t change. He simply looked at her. Waiting.

Then his gaze dropped to Gwen’s unconscious form in his arms. His hand—the one still gripping her breast—squeezed harder. His thumb found her nipple through the fabric and pressed down.

"Let me rephrase," Viktor said, his voice dropping to something cold. Dangerous. He stretched his free hand toward Vivian, palm up, like offering a deal. "What do you say? Do you accept my offer or should I kill your daughter?"

The words hung in the air like a noose.

Vivian’s entire body went rigid. Her golden eyes—so similar to Gwen’s—went wide, pupils contracting to pinpricks.

"You—you wouldn’t—"

Viktor’s fingers tightened on Gwen’s breast, his other hand shifting to her throat. Not squeezing. Just resting there. A promise.

"Try me."

Silence.

Vivian’s breathing became ragged, desperate. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, shaking. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over, tracking down her cheeks.

She looked at Gwen. At her daughter’s limp, vulnerable form. At Viktor’s hand on her throat.

Then back to Viktor’s face. Those dark, emotionless eyes that promised he’d do exactly what he said without hesitation.

"I..." Vivian’s voice cracked. She trembled, her whole body shaking like a leaf in a storm. "I..."

Her head dropped forward. Shoulders slumping.

Defeated.

"Yes," she whispered, so quietly Viktor almost didn’t hear it. "I will do it."

"Louder."

Vivian flinched. Her hands came up to her face, covering it as sobs wracked her body.

"Yes!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "Yes, I’ll do it! Just—just don’t hurt her! Please!"

Viktor’s lips curved into a slight smile. Satisfaction curled warm in his chest.

’Got her.’

He looked down at Vivian again, his gaze roaming over her body with open hunger now. No pretense. Just raw appreciation.

Her dress was torn at the sleeve, revealing a glimpse of shoulder. The fabric clung to her curves, damp with sweat, outlining every soft swell and valley. Her chest heaved with each sobbing breath, making her heavy breasts bounce slightly.

’She’s hot,’ Viktor thought, his cock hardening fully now. ’Fuckable. Maternally fuckable hot.’

The kind of body built for breeding. Wide hips for childbirth. Heavy breasts for nursing. Thick thighs for wrapping around a man and milking him dry.

And given her elven heritage—the naturally nurturing disposition, the longevity, the fertility—she’d be perfect for his growing household. Perfect for caring for Helena and Mira during their pregnancies. Perfect for eventually carrying his own child.

’Good for the children,’ Viktor mused, already imagining her belly swollen, her breasts leaking milk, her body soft and pliant beneath him.

"Good choice," Viktor said aloud, his voice returning to that casual tone.

Then he raised his free hand—the one not holding Gwen—and snapped his fingers.

SNAP.

The sound echoed through the alley, sharp and clear.

And in Viktor’s vision, a translucent blue window materialized.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[ABILITY: TOUCH TRANSMIT — ACTIVATED]

[SOURCE: SUCCUBUS ELARA]

[DESCRIPTION: HOST CAN EXTEND PERSONAL ABILITIES TO OTHERS THROUGH PHYSICAL CONTACT. DURATION: AS LONG AS PHYSICAL CONTACT IS MAINTAINED.]

[CURRENT APPLICATION: INSTANT RECALL TELEPORTATION EXTENDED TO TOUCHED SUBJECTS]

[TARGETS DETECTED: GWEN (PHYSICAL CONTACT: MAINTAINED) | VIVIAN (PHYSICAL CONTACT: PENDING)]

[AWAITING HOST COMMAND...]

Viktor’s smirk widened.

This ability had been a game-changer. Before, his Instant Recall could only teleport himself or summon his wives to him. One-way. Limited.

But after fucking Elara—after claiming her succubus essence—he’d gained this. The ability to share his powers with anyone he touched.

It wasn’t overpowered in the traditional sense. He couldn’t just permanently grant abilities to random people. The contact had to be maintained. The moment he let go, the ability faded from them.

But for situations like this? When he needed to transport captives—acquisitions—back to his manor without the hassle of walking or carriages?

Perfect.

Viktor stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and Vivian.

She flinched, taking a half-step back, but there was nowhere to go. The alley wall was right behind her.

"Hold still," Viktor commanded.

His hand—the one he’d extended earlier—reached out and gripped Vivian’s wrist. His fingers wrapped around the delicate bones completely, thumb pressing against her pulse point.

Fast. Erratic. Terrified.

Vivian gasped at the contact, her eyes going wide. "What are you—"

The world ’lurched.’

Vivian’s vision blurred, colors smearing together like wet paint. Her stomach dropped, a sensation like falling from a great height even though her feet remained planted on the ground.

Darkness swallowed them.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Then—

LIGHT.

Vivian’s eyes flew open, a scream catching in her throat.

They were no longer in the alley.

She stood in the center of an enormous open courtyard, grass beneath her feet instead of cobblestones. The air smelled different—fresher, sweeter, carrying the scent of jasmine and blooming flowers.

The sky above was a brilliant blue, unmarred by clouds. Sunlight poured down, warm and gentle, bathing everything in golden light.

And surrounding them—

A mansion.

No, not just a mansion. An estate.

The building before her was gorgeous. Three stories tall, constructed of white stone that seemed to glow in the sunlight. Arched windows lined the facade, each framed by delicate carvings. A grand entrance with double doors stood open, revealing a glimpse of polished marble floors within.

To the left, a fountain. Water cascaded from a central sculpture—some kind of abstract design—into a pool below. The sound was soothing, musical almost.

And the grass—god, the grass. It stretched out in every direction, a perfect emerald carpet. Not a single weed. Not a bare patch. Just lush, healthy greenness that looked almost too vibrant to be real.

’Like heaven,’ Vivian thought distantly, her mind struggling to process the sudden shift.

"Where..." She turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. "Where are we? What happened?"

Viktor released her wrist, stepping back. Gwen still hung limp in his arms, completely unconscious.

"I just brought you away from that town," Viktor said simply, as if teleporting across what must have been miles was no big deal. "Here you will be safe."

Safe.

The word should have been comforting. Instead, it sent chills down Vivian’s spine.

’Safe. In the home of a man who just threatened to kill my daughter if I didn’t obey.’

Viktor’s dark eyes bored into hers, reading her thoughts as clearly as if she’d spoken them aloud.

"Just make sure," he continued, his tone taking on a harder edge, "to take care of my wives."

Wives.

Plural.

Vivian’s mouth went dry.

Before she could respond, movement caught her attention.

From the manor entrance, figures emerged.

Two women, both heavily pregnant, moved slowly down the steps. They walked side by side, one hand each resting on their swollen bellies, the other holding teacups.

The first was older—early thirties, maybe—with kind brown eyes and chestnut hair pulled back into a loose bun. Her dress was simple but clean, the fabric straining across her enormous breasts and rounded stomach.

The second was around the same age, with sharp green eyes and an intelligent face. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders, framing features that were both beautiful and calculating. Her pregnant belly was just as pronounced, her breasts just as heavy.

They reached the bottom of the steps and paused, turning toward Viktor.

And they smiled.

Not surprised. Not confused.

Like they’d been expecting this.

’Telepathy,’ Viktor thought, sending a quick message through the mental link he shared with all his wives. ’I’m bringing in two elves. Mother and daughter. Play along. Don’t use my noble title. I’m acting as a commoner right now.’

Helena’s mental voice came back immediately, warm and understanding. ’Of course, Young—Viktor.’ A pause, then a mental giggle. ’Sorry. Old habits.’

Mira’s response was more amused. ’Acting, huh? More like collecting. You couldn’t resist, could you?’

’Shut up.’

’I’m not complaining.’ Mira’s mental tone turned predatory. ’More sisters means more help around here. And more fun.’

Viktor cut the connection, focusing back on the physical world.

The two pregnant women—Helena and Mira—approached slowly, their gazes taking in Vivian first, then sliding to the unconscious Gwen in Viktor’s arms.

"Oh my," Helena breathed, her hand going to her chest. "Is she alright?"

"She’s fine," Viktor said dismissively. "Just sleeping."