Makoto woke slowly, pulled from deep sleep by warmth on his face and the low murmur. His body was heavy, his limbs tangled with the women of his harem.
Yuna was plastered against his back, one arm slung over his waist, muttering something about "SSR rates" in her sleep. Ayane sprawled across his legs, a warm, dead weight. And Mika... Mika was gone.
He sat up, groaning as his back protested. Yuna grunted and tightened her grip on his pillow. The humming came from the kitchen. It was Mika's voice, soft and cheerful.
He swung his legs out from under Ayane, who just rolled over without waking, and stumbled toward the kitchen, his body aching in a dull, pleasant way.
The smell of coffee and something sweet, like pancakes, filled the air. Mika was at the stove, the pink apron from last night tied over her pajamas, humming as she flipped a golden-brown pancake.
"Did you sleep well?" Mika asked, her smile angelic. "I'm making chocolate chip pancakes. Yuna said they're your favorite." Nothing in her expression suggested the depraved chaos of the previous night. It was as if it never happened.
Makoto walked closer, smiling. He hugged her from behind and kissed her neck with a chuckle. "You're acting more like a wife than the main wife. I love it."
Mika stiffened for a fraction of a second with a small intake of breath. Then she relaxed into his embrace, her body soft and warm against his. A small and genuine smile touched her lips.
"Good morning, darling husband," she whispered, her voice a happy purr. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "I'm just practicing," she murmured.
She expertly slid the pancake onto a plate, then turned in his arms, her hands resting on his chest. Her eyes, when she opened them again, shone with a clear, devoted light. The cold predator of the previous night was gone, replaced by this soft, adoring creature.
"The second wife has to work twice as hard, just to get half the recognition," she said. "But don't worry." She reached up and gently straightened the collar of his shirt, a gesture of intimacy that made his heart skip. "I'm very dedicated," she whispered, her smile never wavering.
Makoto leaned in for another kiss, his hands gripping her ass, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Any man would be happy to have a wife like you."
Mika melted into his kiss, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her body pressed against his, pliant and yielding. When his hands gripped her ass, a small shiver ran through her, and she squeezed him back with her thighs, a subtle response.
She pulled away just enough to look at him, her eyes shining with a deep, adoring light that was both genuine and frighteningly calculated. He looked back at her, his eyes sparkling. "Just curious, what kind of man do you like?"
"What kinds?" she whispered, her voice a musical purr. She tilted her head, a picture of sweet contemplation. "I don't really think about it." Her hands slid from his chest up to his shoulders, her thumbs gently stroking the sides of his neck.
"But if I had to describe my ideal man..." she murmured, her gaze dropping for a moment, a perfect imitation of shyness. "I like a man who is a little broken. Someone who needs to be taken care of. Someone who can be a complete pig..."
She leaned in, her lips brushing against his, a soft promise. "But can also become a kind, disgusting, possessive monster," she breathed. "Just like you."
Then she pulled back with a cheerful smile, completely breaking the intense mood. "But that's just silly talk! Right now, my monster needs his pancakes before they get cold!" She picked up a piece of pancake with her fingers, loaded with melted chocolate chips, and held it to his lips. "Say ahhh, darling," she cooed.
Makoto leaned in to take the pancake and lightly bit her finger, a fond smile on his face. "It tastes amazing. I could eat this all day." He smirked. "But I'd prefer you feeding it to me via your mouth, instead."
Just as quickly, her mask was back in place. A slow, beautiful blush crept up her neck, but her smile never wavered.
"You're such a baby," she chided, her voice a breathless whisper, but her eyes shone with a wild, adoring light. "Mouth-feeding? So demanding. And so early in the morning."
She didn't say no. Instead, she turned back to the plate of pancakes. She carefully cut a small, perfect, bite-sized piece with a fork. Then she brought it to her own lips, took it into her mouth, and chewed slowly, her eyes never leaving his. Her cheeks were flushed, a beautiful shade of crimson.
She leaned in, her hands coming up to cup his face, her thumbs stroking his cheeks. "Open up, husband," she whispered, her voice muffled, and then she pressed her mouth against his. She fed him the pancake, a warm, sweet, incredibly intimate exchange of saliva and chocolate. It was a kiss that was both chaste and breathtakingly lewd.
Makoto grinned, a slow, predatory thing as he looked back at the pancakes. "It's more delicious this way." He looked at her, his eyes sparkling. "Continue, honey. The pancake won't eat itself."
A soft, musical giggle escaped Mika's lips. "Of course," she purred, her eyes shining with affection. She turned back to the plate, cut another piece, brought it to her mouth, and then fed it to him.
Her lips linger against his for a fraction of a second longer each time. It became an intimate, surprisingly erotic breakfast. The kitchen filled with the soft sounds of her chewing, the gentle clink of the fork against the plate, and the wet sound of their kisses.
"What a disgusting display," a grumpy, sleep-rough voice cut through the domestic bliss.
They both turned. Yuna stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her gray hair a wild, sleep-tousled mess. She glared at them both with jealous fury. "You're feeding him like he's a baby bird," she snarled, her voice a dangerous growl. "And you're letting her, you disgusting, lazy pig!"
Ayane appeared behind her, yawning and stretching, a picture of casual indolence. "Aww, is the main wife feeling left out?" she cooed, her voice a lazy, amused drawl. "Don't worry. There's plenty of cake to go around."
Makoto just winked and giggled. "Yeah, you can come and let me feed you, too, Yuna, before the pancake runs out."
Yuna's face contorted into a mask of tsundere fury. A deep, furious blush spread from her neck to the tips of her ears. "I'm not a baby!" she shrieked, her voice high-pitched and indignant. "And I don't want your disgusting, second-hand, slobber-covered pancakes!"
She stormed into the kitchen, pushing past Mika with a grumpy, possessive shove. Grabbing a fork, she stabbed a piece of pancake with violent force and shoved it into her own mouth. "See?!" she said, her mouth full of pancake. "I can feed myself!"
Mika just watched this display with an almost maternal smile. "There's plenty for everyone," she said, her voice a soft murmur. Ayane sauntered into the kitchen, a lazy grin on her face. She didn't bother with a fork, just picked up a pancake with her bare hands, folded it in half like a taco, and took a huge, unladylike bite.
"Mmm," she said, her mouth full. "Good stuff, second wife. You're a keeper." She looked from Mika's serene smile to Yuna's furious glare, and then to Makoto.
"So," she said. "What's on the agenda for today? Besides the obvious, of course."