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Reincarnated into a Femdom Fantasy World (18+)-Chapter 12: Stop fussing
Chapter 12: Stop fussing
Jake stepped gingerly into the vast, luxurious bath, the marble edge cool against his toes as he descended into the sunken pool, the water rippling around him with a faint, iridescent shimmer. The scent hit him first—lavender and rosewater, sweet and soothing, curling up from the steam in delicate tendrils that mingled with the warm air, chasing away the musky stench of sweat, seed, and the lingering traces of Kalia and Mara that clung to his skin.
The temperature was perfect, a gentle heat that enveloped him as he sank deeper, the water lapping at his chest, coaxing a soft, involuntary moan from his lips—a sound of pure relief as his aching muscles began to unwind. He closed his eyes, the tension bleeding out of him, the filth dissolving into the crystalline pool as if by magic, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to melt into it like salt, to let it wash away the chaos of his new reality.
The echo of footsteps broke his reverie—sharp, deliberate clicks against the marble—and his eyes snapped open, his head turning toward the sound. Veyra strode in, her fair skin glowing in the steamy light, wrapped in nothing but a thin white towel that hugged her voluptuous frame, the fabric clinging to her thick thighs and the generous swell of her breasts, barely containing her curves.
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Her crimson hair spilled loose over her shoulders, damp ends curling against her collarbone, and as she moved, the towel shifted, revealing a glimpse of her pink nipples pressing faintly against the cloth. Jake's relaxation shattered, replaced by a sudden, unwelcome surge of arousal that tightened his chest, his breath catching as he cursed himself inwardly—hating how his body betrayed him, stirring again despite his exhaustion.
"W-wait, I'm bathing—don't come in!" he stammered, his voice cracking as he sank lower into the water, his hands splashing awkwardly to cover himself, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and heat.
Veyra paused, her golden eyes narrowing, a smirk tugging at her lips as she ignored his protest, her boots thudding softly as she set a woven basket beside the pool, its contents clinking faintly—bottles and cloths nestled within.
"Quiet, pet," she said, her voice a low, commanding purr that brooked no argument, her fair hands unwrapping the towel with a casual flick, letting it drop to the marble in a crumpled heap. She stood bare before him, her skin a creamy expanse, her pink nipples hardening in the steamy air, her muscular curves softened by the gentle swell of her hips and the weight of her breasts.
Jake's mouth went dry, his eyes darting away, then back, unable to resist the erotic pull of her body as she stepped into the bath, the water rippling around her as she sank down beside him, close enough that her thigh brushed his, her heat mingling with the pool's warmth.
"Alright, let's get you scrubbed clean," she said, her tone firm but laced with a teasing edge, her golden eyes glinting as she leaned closer, her crimson hair trailing into the water. "We're seeing the queen after this, and if she catches even a hint of that stench you're carrying—Kalia and Mara's mess all over you—she'll have my head on a pike. So sit still and let me work." Her words were a mix of duty and mockery, her smirk widening as she reached into the basket, her movements deliberate.
Jake shifted, the water sloshing as he protested, his voice small but stubborn. "I—I can clean myself, really, I don't need—" His words cut off with a yelp as Veyra's hands seized his waist, her grip strong and unyielding, pulling him onto her thick lap in one fluid motion.
His back pressed against her soft, heavy breasts, the sensation overwhelming—her pink nipples, firm and warm, digging into his skin like an acupressure point, sending a jolt through him that made his breath hitch. "Veyra—!" he squeaked, but she shushed him with a low chuckle, her arms locking around him, keeping him pinned against her voluptuous frame.
"Stop wiggling, pet," she murmured, her voice warm against his ear, her breath tickling his neck as she dipped his head back, submerging his hair in the water with a gentle push. The warmth soaked through his scalp, and she released him just enough to grab a bottle from the basket, pouring a thick, amber liquid into her palm—its scent sharp and citrusy, like oranges kissed by sunlight.
She rubbed her hands together, creating a frothy foam, then worked it into his hair, her fingers strong and methodical, massaging his scalp with a rhythm that made him bite back a groan, the tension in his head melting under her touch.
Next, she plucked a loofah from the basket, its rough texture softened by the water, and poured another liquid onto it—this one floral, jasmine and honey, sweet and heady, blooming in the steam as she worked it into a lather. She started at his shoulders, scrubbing gently, the foam gliding over his skin, dissolving the grime and sweat in its wake, the magical water keeping itself crystal clear, its surface unmarred by the filth it stripped away.
"Arms up," she ordered, and he obeyed, his muscles trembling as she raised them, her loofah sliding under his pits, the ticklish sensation making him squirm, her breasts pressing harder against his back as she held him steady.
"Stay still," she chided, her voice a playful growl, spreading his legs with a firm nudge of her knee, her hands guiding the loofah down his thighs, scrubbing the insides with a careful, teasing touch that made his breath catch. The jasmine scent filled his nose, the foam slick against his skin, and then her hand dipped lower, the loofah brushing his length with a sudden, rhythmic stroke—gentle but deliberate, the sensation sparking through him for a fleeting few seconds before she pulled away, leaving him throbbing, his cheeks burning as she chuckled softly.
"There—clean enough," she said, her tone smug, and with a final rinse, she lifted him from her lap, her strength effortless as she set him on the marble edge, handing him a plush towel, its fibers soft as velvet against his dripping skin.