Villain's Breeding System: Evolving 999+ Harem into an SSS-Rank Legion-Chapter 327- Thank You...

He stated it the way he stated facts he had decided to share.

From behind his shoulder, Veronica’s voice arrived.

"You say that to everyone."

It came out dry, warm, and familiar, as if she had heard it before.

"I mean it differently each time," he said.

PAH PAH PAAAH!

"AAANNHH~!! HIEKK~!! NGH—!! IT’S — SOMETHING — INSIDE ME — IT’S—"

The first pump.

Deep and held, his cock pressed to her cervix and released the first thick rope of his seed straight through with warm flooding force into a womb that had never received one.

Her womb.

Hot and impossible warmth flooded through her cervix into her interior — intimate and real, his seed filling her from the inside.

"WAAAAIT—!! IT’S HOT — SOMETHING HOT — IT’S INSIDE MY—"

The second pump.

The third.

Her whole body seized with comprehensive orgasm arriving on top of a creampie with no warning and no buffer — her pussy walls clamping around his cock with vice-grip milking force that had found its purpose and executed it with complete sincerity.

She squirted.

Warm arousal flooded out around him in entirely involuntary release from a body that had run out of capacity for holding anything.

She cried.

Warm tears ran from the corners of her seeing eyes down her temples and into her dark hair, produced by overwhelming input. Not grief tears. Not pain tears. Tears from too much at once, a woman who had just been given her eyes, her first orgasm from a man, and her first internal creampie all in the same twelve minutes.

Her body went loose.

Every muscle released at once, her hips falling open fully, her arms going slack at her sides, her back settling flat into the wet soaked sheets.

She breathed.

Ragged and rebuilding.

She looked at the ceiling with both working eyes and breathed.

Then her legs moved.

Not by decision. They moved slowly on their own — her thighs lifting, her legs wrapping. Both legs rose and crossed with slow motion, finding the warm familiar spot and closing around him.

Around both of them.

Veronica was still on his back.

Her legs were right there.

Frau Müller’s legs crossed behind Raven and found the warm soft presence of Veronica’s ass directly behind him — connecting with full flat naked heel-to-ass-cheek contact before she could account for the geometry.

She locked her ankles.

She pinned Veronica’s ass against Raven’s lower back with accidental pressure from heels pressed into flesh.

Veronica went still.

It was the specific startled reaction of a woman who had just had her ass smacked by another woman’s heels and held there.

Her eyes fired.

Sharp and narrow with hot surprise, the territorial look of a woman finding an accidental claim being made on her space.

She looked down at the heel pressed into her ass.

She looked at Frau Müller’s face.

He looked at Veronica’s face.

The smirk arrived slowly — warm and knowing, the corner of his mouth moving as he read exactly what this meant between the two women making claims on the same piece of real estate, and he found it entertaining.

"So," he said.

To the woman below him. Warm, gentle, and asking a real question. "You like his cock."

It was not a gentle question. It was direct, the way a man who already knew the answer made the answer speak itself out loud.

Frau Müller looked at him.

Her eyes — seeing, real, wet with tears and soft and large in the warm dim light — looked at his face with full open wonder at what had happened to her in the last hour.

Her hands moved.

Not to push him. Not to protest. They came upward slowly toward his face — both hands, hesitant and new, the way a woman reaches for a man’s face when she has never done this before, only heard it in music and never practiced.

Her fingers found his jaw.

Warm, living, and rough beneath her fingertips, the real present feel of a man’s face in her hands.

She pulled gently.

Soft and requesting, asking him to come closer.

More tears.

Warm and unhurried, they tracked from the corners of her eyes.

"Can you," she said. The thin, small, barely-there voice of a woman asking for something she had never asked for from anyone in thirty-one years of a carefully self-sufficient life.

Her hands trembled slightly against his jaw.

"Can you hug me."

It came out full, broken, and real. "Sir Raven."

The room was quiet.

Warm, dim, and thoroughly used — soaked sheets, wet warmth of three bodies, the slow sound of two people breathing.

He looked at her face.

At the tears. At the eyes that had been dark for thirty-one years and were now seeing. At the hands trembling against his jaw.

He lowered himself.

His body covered hers with warm full chest-to-chest contact, slow and deliberate, giving her exactly what she had asked for. His arms found their place around her — warm, full, and real, the way arms hold when they know how.

Behind him, Veronica pressed her cheek against the back of his shoulder.

Her eyes closed. Warm and accepting, as if something real had happened.

She did not say anything.

The three of them lay together in the warm dim room.

The soaked sheets. The sound of breathing. The first light she had ever seen going dim at the edges of her vision as her eyes, overwhelmed by the newness of everything, began to close.

She tightened her arms around him.

Holding with full please-don’t-go pressure.

Above her, he held her with easy certainty, the way a man holds something he has acquired and understands completely.

Veronica thought: ’Thirty-one years.’

She thought: ’He just gave her eyes and a creampie in the same afternoon.’

She pressed her face into the back of his shoulder and then felt her hips raising up and down as he gently started to slowly fuck the woman on simple, slow, limp cock way where she simply moaned while Veronica just enjoyed the ride.

"Ahnn~ Mhnn~ Aaahh~ Thank you..."