Leon’s POV
"You’re kind of sweaty right now," Myrcella said, her voice smooth, almost teasing, like she’d already decided how this would end. "It’s getting a little hot in here, don’t you think? Why don’t you remove so of your clothes?"
Before Lilia could properly respond, Myrcella’s hand slid around her waist, fingers firm and unyielding as they settled against her body. With surprising ease, she reached down and unbuckled the belt of Lilia’s short pants. The small tallic click of the buckle coming undone sounded louder than it should have in the quiet room.
Lilia froze.
She tried to push Myrcella’s hand away. I saw the hesitation as well as the brief spark of resistance in her eyes. Her hand lifted, fingers curling as if to stop her. But she couldn’t move Myrcella’s grip. Not even slightly.
And that was the strange part.
She absolutely could have.
In the next second, Myrcella slid the belt free from the loops and tossed it aside without ceremony. It landed sowhere behind her with a soft thud, completely ignored.
I couldn’t help it. I stared.
It felt like I was witnessing a side of Myrcella I had never seen before. This wasn’t just playful teasing. This was command. It was bold, unapologetic dominance, worn as naturally as a crown.
Then again... maybe this was inevitable.
She was going to beco queen one day. Authority wasn’t sothing she could hesitate about. If she wanted people to follow her—no, if she wanted them to bend—then she needed presence. A will strong enough to override others. Watching her now, with her being calm and in control, I realized this might not just be indulgence.
It might be growth.
Or maybe she just enjoyed this a little too much. Honestly, both could be true.
Her hands slid to Lilia’s hips and slowly, almost painfully slowly, began pulling down her pants. The motion wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. It was asured and intentional.
Lilia swallowed audibly.
Underneath, she wasn’t completely bare. A pair of nylon stockings clung tightly to her legs, covering most of them. So technically, she wasn’t stripped entirely. Not yet.
Still, the stockings were thin. They were so thin they almost blended with her skin. The denier was low enough that her natural tone showed through, the faint outline of her thighs visible beneath the translucent fabric. It was the kind of material that made you look twice just to confirm whether it was really there.
The Commander looked absolutely mortified.
Her jaw was tight. Her teeth were clenched. Her pride, usually sharp and unshakable, was being peeled away layer by layer, just like her uniform.
And yet...
She didn’t run.
That was what caught my attention the most.
If she bolted right now, this would end instantly. No one here could physically stop her if she truly wanted to leave (aside from , of course). She had the strength. She had every excuse.
But she stayed.
It was almost like she wanted this to continue. Like she needed it to.
After a brief pause, Myrcella shifted her focus upward. Her fingers moved to Lilia’s military uniform, unbuttoning it one by one. She started from the bottom, working her way up with slow precision. Each button ca undone with a soft pop, revealing more skin inch by inch.
The fabric loosened completely, hanging open.
Then Myrcella lifted her bra.
She didn’t hesitate.
"L-Look away!" Lilia snapped at , her voice sharp, though it trembled just slightly.
I felt the familiar brush of Authority pressing against , but like before, it didn’t work. It slid off like water off glass.
Her breasts weren’t large.
They were dium-sized, firm, and naturally perky. Not exaggerated and not overly dramatic on their bounciness unlike the other won I have in my harem. Just well-shaped and balanced in a way that suited her perfectly. There was a quiet confidence in them, even if she didn’t have that confidence herself at the mont.
Honestly, size had never mattered much to . Flat, average, busty, it didn’t really change anything. There was sothing appealing about all of them. A kind of individuality in each shape. Basically, I like all sizes.
"You seem to be in a bit of a difficult situation, Commander," I said, keeping my tone steady, almost casual. "You could push Myrcella away at any mont. But you’re not. So tell ... are you perhaps a masochist?"
"You bastard! How dare you call that?" she fired back imdiately.
Her glare was intense enough to scorch the air.
But there was sothing else there too.
Confusion.
For a split second before anger took over, she genuinely looked like she wasn’t sure what the word ant. That almost made laugh. Almost.
Still, judging by how little she was actually resisting, it wasn’t exactly an unfair guess. She was enduring humiliation with gritted teeth, refusing to leave.
I even found myself wondering about Veronica. They weren’t related by blood, but Veronica had been adopted into Lilia’s family. Growing up together, constantly around each other... traits had a way of rubbing off.
It wasn’t impossible.
I stepped closer.
This was the first ti I moved toward her since Myrcella started touching her.
Lilia’s eyes snapped to mine instantly. She glared, fierce and defensive as ever. But she didn’t stop . She didn’t step back. She didn’t strike.
When I reached out and gently tilted her chin upward, sothing changed.
The fire in her gaze flickered.
Her expression softened, lting into sothing far less guarded. A blush spread across her cheeks.
That surprised more than anything.
If I had to guess her type, I would have assud she leaned toward being a sadist. She carried herself with authority, confidence, as well as command. The kind of woman who gave orders, not endured them.
But appearances can be deceiving.
"Fufufu... isn’t she adorable, Leon?" Myrcella said with a small, amused laugh. "Commander Lilia like this... I bet you didn’t expect it either."
"I’ll admit," I replied, keeping my eyes on Lilia, "this is quite the surprise."
With only a breath away from her face, she didn’t speak. She didn’t even look away.
She just stared back at .
As if waiting.
That silence stretched between us.
Slowly, I placed my hands on her bare chest. My fingers curled around the soft warmth of her breasts, feeling the subtle tension beneath her skin. They were warm to the touch. I didn’t rush. I let my hands settle, letting her feel the weight of the contact.
She inhaled sharply.
I bent my knee slightly, lowering myself to her level. The distance between us disappeared completely.
And then—
I leaned forward and began lapping at her nipple.
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