NTR: Stealing wives in Another World-Chapter 62: Faking

Kael pulled his tunic back on with a satisfied stretch, still casting soft glances at Veyna as she sat curled beneath the blanket, her hands tight in her lap.

Before he could say anything else, a voice called out from outside.

"Kael!" It was Joel, one of the younger males in the hunting group—loud, overeager, and always bouncing around like a pup with too much energy. "Hunting party’s forming up near the west ridge. You dragging your tail or what?"

Kael chuckled, grabbing his satchel. "Guess duty calls."

Veyna nodded faintly. "Be safe."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, gentle and trusting.

And then... he was gone.

Veyna sat in the sudden quiet, the weight of her body and soul pressing heavy on her chest. She waited until his footsteps faded, then slowly rose from the bed, wincing as her body protested. Every step sent aches rippling up her thighs, her pussy sore and oversensitive, her asshole burning from the brutal stretching Allen had given her the night before.

She cleaned up as best she could, moving gingerly. There was no fixing the limp. No hiding the way her legs refused to close. She just... hoped no one was watching.

But when she stepped outside, the cool breeze brushing her sore skin, her eyes instinctively scanned the paths ahead—and she stopped dead.

Across the small open square of huts, her gaze landed on the familiar structure where Allen had been staying.

Fina and Rinni had taken up residence there with him—something that already had tongues wagging.

But this morning, the door was half-open.

And coming from inside... shouting.

Muffled, but unmistakable. A woman’s voice—furious. Then something that might’ve been a moan. Or maybe a scream. She couldn’t tell.

Veyna froze, her breath caught in her throat.

She strained her ears, trying to make out the words, but the tone alone made her chest tighten. Whoever was in there was not quiet. The kind of shouting that only came from arguments... or sex.

Or both.

She looked around the yard and then saw her.

Lady Nyra.

Walking away from the hut.

Her pace was steady. Unbothered. Her expression calm, composed—unreadable. But her fur was ruffled. Her sash was loose. Her tail twitched with every step.

Veyna’s gut twisted.

She didn’t know anything. Not for sure. But the dots started connecting in her mind anyway, painting ugly, hot images she couldn’t unsee. Allen. That hut. Nyra. The shouting.

She turned away quickly, pulse hammering, her sore body trembling all over again.

She didn’t have proof.

But her body remembered the kind of sounds Allen could drag from a woman. The kind of fight that came with being broken open.

And what she heard in that hut... wasn’t nothing.

———

The door clicked shut behind her as she stepped into the den of lust and sin. The air was thick—wet with the scent of sweat, cum, and raw animal desire. Nyra’s stomach coiled, both from disgust and the traitorous throb building between her thighs.

Then she saw them.

Rinni, splayed across the bed like a ruined doll, dried streaks of cum painting her body in crude, gleaming swirls. Her mouth hung open in a slack, dreamy moan, her chest rising and falling with soft whimpers.

Fina, still asleep, was draped over Allen’s lap like a feral blanket. Her mouth clung lazily to his cock, drool and leftover spunk coating his shaft and her lips alike, pooling at the base.

And Allen...

He lay there like a god fallen from the heavens—naked, beautiful, filthy. His cock was twitching softly in Fina’s slack mouth, glazed and glistening, and his expression was peaceful. Too peaceful.

Nyra’s breath hitched.

That cock... that cursed thing... It had torn her apart, stretched her, humiliated her, made her cum harder than she ever had—and now it was being shared like a toy.

Her anger boiled up in her throat.

Without a word, she stepped forward, raised her leg, and dragged her bare foot up Allen’s cock.

The warmth of it—still half-hard and sticky—made her thighs clench. But she didn’t let the pleasure show. She ground her heel into it, forcing it toward Rinni’s messy slit.

She pressed her foot against the bunny girl’s pussy, rubbing the dried cum deeper between her folds.

"I told you not to do anything funny with the human," Nyra snapped.

Rinni stirred slightly, moaning, her hips twitching under Nyra’s foot.

Fina blinked awake, groggy, her lips still drooling around Allen’s cock. "Mmm... mine," she muttered, barely coherent. "He’s... ours..."

Nyra’s eyes burned as she glared at her.

Yours? Was that the lie they told themselves? That they controlled him? That this thing who wrecked her was their toy?

Allen’s eyes fluttered open—and his voice, when he spoke, was cold. Flat.

"Awaiting command," he said softly. "Directive required."

Nyra stiffened.

"What... are you doing?" she asked, confused despite herself.

"I am yours to use," Allen said, his gaze blank. "As you desire, Lady Nyra. My purpose is pleasure. Tell me your will."

The words hit her like a slap—no, like a mockery. Her eyes flicked to Fina, who was still clinging to him, possessive even in half-sleep.

"You really think you’re in control of this thing?" Nyra growled. "You think he’s yours?"

Fina let out a sleepy laugh, licking at the head of his cock lazily. "Mmm... mine to ride, mine to break..."

Allen didn’t even flinch.

"My body is to be used," he said, eyes distant. "Please give me your instructions. I await correction or input."

Nyra’s foot pressed harder against his cock, rage bubbling through her veins.

Was this a game?

Was he mocking her?

Or was this what it looked like—a man broken, tamed, twisted into submission by sheer depravity?

She hated the ache building between her thighs again.

Hated the way her nipples tightened beneath her robe.

Hated that, even now, she wanted to touch him again.

Allen blinked once. Slowly.

"Permission to serve?" he asked, voice eerily soft.

And that was the moment Nyra realized...

She wasn’t sure who was playing who anymore.