The horse's steady rhythm rocked Eron and Mira as they rode east under the fading twilight. Mira sat in front, her soft, curvaceous body pressed firmly against his chest, her plump ass nestled perfectly against his crotch. Every bump in the dirt road sent a jolt through them both, reminding Eron of the raw fucking he'd given her just hours ago. Her scent—sweat mixed with sex and wildflowers—filled his nostrils, keeping his cock half-hard despite the long day.
Mira's head rested against his shoulder, her voice a contented murmur. "I've never felt this free, Eron. Or this… alive." The faint glow of the harem bond still lingered on her skin, a subtle shimmer only he could see through the system interface.
[Harem Member: Mira Grom (Rank 1)]
Loyalty: 100%
Bond Benefits: +5 Strength (shared), +10% Essence Gain from joint activities
Special Trait Unlocked: Devoted Caretaker (Recovers stamina twice as fast when tending to you)]
Eron's hand slid down her waist, fingers tracing the curve of her hip possessively. "Good. Because you're mine now. And I plan to claim many more." His voice dropped to a husky whisper near her ear. "Starting tonight, if the opportunity arises."
They traveled the old merchant road toward Silverport, a well-worn path flanked by dense woods on one side and open fields on the other. Night fully descended, stars glittering above like scattered diamonds. Eron kept the horse at a steady trot, alert for bandits or monsters.
The system had warned him:
[Low-level threats detected in vicinity. Caution advised.]
Around midnight, flickering firelight appeared ahead—a small caravan camped beside the road. Three wagons formed a loose circle, with a dozen people gathered around a central bonfire. Merchants, by the look of their colorful robes and guarded crates. Two armed guards patrolled the perimeter, swords at their hips. A family huddled near one wagon— a middle-aged man, his young wife, and their teenage daughter.
Eron slowed the horse, assessing. "We could join them for the night. Safer in numbers, and…" His lips curved into a predatory smile. "Fresh opportunities."
Mira glanced back, a spark of jealousy flickering before devotion won out. "Whatever you desire, my lord." The title slipped from her lips naturally, sending a thrill through him.
They approached openly, hands visible. One guard raised a lantern. "State your business!"
"Travelers heading to Silverport," Eron called. "My wife and I seek shelter for the night. We have coin for food and a spot by the fire."
The guard eyed them—Mira's disheveled beauty drawing lingering stares—before nodding. "Fine. Ten coppers. No trouble."
Inside the camp, introductions were made. The caravan leader, a portly merchant named Torv, welcomed them warmly once the coins changed hands. The family near the third wagon caught Eron's immediate attention.
The husband, Harlan, was a stern craftsman in his forties, transporting tools to sell in the city. His daughter, Lira, was a shy sixteen-year-old with long blonde braids and budding curves hidden under modest clothes. But the true prize was Harlan's wife—his newlywed second wife, actually.
Her name was Sylva. Barely twenty-five, with raven-black hair cascading to her waist, porcelain skin, and a body built for sin— full, high breasts straining against her travel dress, a tiny waist flaring into wide hips, and long legs that flashed teasingly as she moved. She had married Harlan six months ago after her first husband died in a raid—a common arrangement for widows needing protection. But her eyes held quiet dissatisfaction, her smiles forced when Harlan barked orders.
Eron's system pinged the moment he locked eyes with her:
[New Target Analyzed: Sylva Voss]
Age: 25
Status: Married (Unhappy)
Loyalty to Husband: 55%
Libido: High (Suppressed)
Seduction Potential: Extreme
Recommended Approach: Seduction Whisper + Isolation]
Perfect.
They shared the fire, eating stew and hard bread. Mira played the devoted wife flawlessly, feeding Eron bites and leaning into him possessively. Conversations flowed: Torv boasted of trade profits, guards swapped monster stories. Eron used his Earth charisma, telling half-true tales of "distant lands" that captivated the group—especially Sylva, whose sapphire eyes lingered on him.
Harlan noticed. "Keep your eyes on your own woman, lad," he grumbled, pulling Sylva closer.
Eron merely smiled. "Of course. Just sharing stories."
Later, as the camp settled, Eron volunteered for the second watch with one guard, giving him mobility. Mira curled up under their shared blanket near the fire, pretending sleep but watching with quiet excitement—she knew his nature now.
Around second hour past midnight, opportunity struck. Sylva rose quietly, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders and slipping toward the woods "to relieve herself." Harlan snored obliviously.
Eron followed at a distance, silent as a shadow. The moonlit clearing she chose was secluded, ringed by bushes. She hiked her dress, squatting delicately—until she sensed him.
Gasping, she stood, dress falling back down. "You—! What are you doing?"
Eron stepped closer, voice low and laced with the new skill —Seduction Whisper.
"Making sure you're safe, beautiful. The woods are dangerous alone."
The skill activated—a subtle resonance in his tone that bypassed logic, stirring heat in her core. Sylva's breath hitched, thighs pressing together instinctively. "I… I'm fine. Go back."
But she didn't move. Eron closed the gap, towering over her. "You're not fine, Sylva. I see it in your eyes. Married to an old man who can't satisfy you. When was the last time you were truly satisfied? Truly desired?"
Her cheeks burned crimson. "How dare you—"
His hand cupped her chin gently, thumb brushing her full lower lip. "Tell me to stop, and I will." But the whisper deepened: "Or admit you want this. Want me."
Her resistance crumbled like wet paper. A soft whimper escaped as she leaned into his touch. "Gods forgive me… yes."
Eron claimed her mouth in a fierce, devouring kiss. Sylva responded hungrily, years of neglect exploding as her tongue danced desperately with his. His hands roamed—squeezing her perfect tits through the dress, pinching nipples that hardened instantly into stiff peaks. She moaned into his mouth, grinding her hips against the growing bulge in his pants.
He pushed her back against a thick oak tree, hiking her dress up to her waist. No undergarments—travel practicality. Her lower lips was already soaked, shaved smooth except for a neat strip of black hair. Eron dropped to his knees, spreading her thighs wide and burying his face between them.
Sylva's hands flew to his hair as his tongue attacked her pearl— her sweet spot with ruthless precision—flicking, sucking, circling while two fingers plunged deep inside her dripping cunt. She tasted sweet and musky, her juices flowing freely down his chin. "Oh fuck… oh gods, yes!" she gasped, voice rising dangerously. He clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling her cries as she came hard, thighs quaking, pussy clenching around his fingers in violent spasms.
Rising, Eron freed his cock—now thicker and longer thanks to the level-up, veins pulsing with need. Sylva's eyes went wide, hand reaching to stroke it reverently. "It's… huge," she breathed, pumping him slowly, pre-cum slicking her palm.
He spun her around, bending her over, hands braced against the tree. Her ass was a masterpiece—round, firm, begging to be claimed. He slapped it hard, watching it jiggle, then spread her cheeks to reveal her glistening holes. Without warning, he thrust into her pussy in one brutal stroke, bottoming out as she screamed into her own arm to stay quiet.
The fucking was animalistic. Eron pounded her relentlessly, hips slamming against her ass with wet, obscene smacks that echoed in the clearing. Each thrust stretched her tight walls, his cock dragging against every sensitive ridge inside her. "Take it, you married slut," he growled in her ear, one hand yanking her hair back, the other rubbing her clit furiously. "This pussy belongs to me now."
Sylva could only whimper and nod, lost in ecstasy. She came again quickly, then again—her body betraying her completely, squirting down her thighs as he dominated her. The NTR essence surged stronger than with Mira— stealing a young wife from her sleeping husband amplified everything.
Finally, Eron pulled out, spinning her to her knees. "Open wide." She obeyed eagerly, mouth stretching around his cock as he fucked her face—deep, sloppy thrusts that made her gag and drool. With a guttural groan, he erupted, flooding her throat with thick ropes of cum. She swallowed greedily, eyes locked on his in total submission.
Ding!
[Conquest Complete: Sylva Voss. +40 Libido, +20 Charm. Skill Unlocked: Essence Drain (Absorb extra essence during climax). Harem Member Added: 2/∞.
Essence Gained: 120 (NTR Bonus +100%). Level Up: 3 → 4. New Stat Points: 10.]
Sylva glowed brighter than Mira had, the bond taking hold instantly. She licked her lips clean, whispering, "I'm yours. Whatever you command."
Eron adjusted her dress, kissing her deeply. "Return to camp. Act normal. Tomorrow, you'll find an excuse to join us permanently."
As she slipped away, legs still trembling, Eron returned to the fire. Mira waited, eyes gleaming with pride and arousal. "Another one already, my lord?"
He pulled her into his lap under the blanket, fingers sliding between her thighs to find her soaked. "Jealous?"
"Never," she purred, grinding against his hand. "Only eager to serve… and watch."
The night deepened, the caravan unaware that its dynamics had already shifted forever. By dawn, Eron's harem would grow again—and Silverport awaited with countless more prizes.