Villain's Breeding System: Evolving 999+ Harem into an SSS-Rank Legion Chapter 324- Grazed her too Hard

He picked them both up at the sa ti.

One arm for each. He did it with easy, effortless strength, completely unbothered, like a man who had already decided where the two won were going and was simply taking them there without asking either one.

He carried them out of the shower.

Down the short hall.

Through the door.

The bed received them.

He threw them.

Not violently — he used controlled, aid force, knowing exactly how much to apply, so both won landed together in the center of the plush surface at the sa mont. The soft, enveloping, high-thread-count sheets took them in with a deep, yielding cushion built for exactly this kind of landing.

Both bodies bounced.

It happened with honest physics, imdiate and real, as two won landed together on a soft surface — the mattress pulled them down then pushed them back up with natural jiggle and loose montum. Frau Müller bounced once, then twice, the thick full weight of her breasts swinging upward and slapping back against her chest with warm, heavy sound from all that mass in motion. Veronica bounced once — lighter and springier, her red hair flying everywhere, her pink nipples catching the warm dim light of the room as her body rose and settled.

Both won were still wet.

Their warm, damp, shower-soaked skin pressed against the dry white fabric of the sheets — leaving clear impressions of their bodies in the cotton, warm prints of wet skin on clean linen.

Frau Müller lay on her back and breathed.

She had been carried, thrown, and bounced in the last thirty seconds. Her entire understanding of what was happening to her had been rewritten several tis in the last hour and still had not caught up. Her chest rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths as she tried to process everything at once.

Veronica looked at the ceiling.

She smiled.

It was not the careful, managing smile she used when she was working. This was the real one. Small, warm, and completely content, as if sothing was exactly right.

Then Raven climbed onto the bed.

The mattress shifted and dipped under his weight — the specific way a bed signals the arrival of a body considerably heavier than the two already there. The dip moved through the mattress and reached both won at once.

His hands arrived on both of them at the sa mont.

Left hand on Veronica. Right hand on Frau Müller.

Both breasts. He gripped them together with full, owning strength, like a man who had looked at the situation and decided the fastest way to show his intentions was to go straight to the point.

Frau Müller’s hands flew up.

"Don’t—"

He pulled.

Not upward — toward himself. He drew both won inward with easy, decisive movent, positioning them exactly where he wanted them.

Veronica went willingly.

She rolled toward him with warm, practiced ease, knowing the choreography well enough to move where it needed to go. Her body settled against his side, her breast pressing against his ribs, her thigh crossing over his.

Frau Müller—

She went too.

Not fully willingly, not unwillingly. It happened with confused, in-between motion, her body moving where he pulled it because her protest had co too late. Her large, warm, wet, soft-fleshed body rolled toward him and pressed against his chest with full, heavy contact, generous curves eting dense muscle.

Her breasts against him.

They pressed warmly and heavily — the thick, rounded, brown-nippled weight of them eting his chest with direct skin-on-skin contact that sent an imdiate signal to every sensitized place already waiting.

She made a sound.

Small. Involuntary. She tried to pull it back the instant it escaped.

His right hand moved from her breast to her face.

She felt it — his warm, large palm cupping her cheek, finding the side of her face with clear intent to locate her mouth.

He kissed her.

Not gently.

It was full, open, and deep, the kind of kiss that carried real aning — his mouth claiming hers with complete, unhurried confidence, the way a man kisses when he has done it many tis. His tongue arrived right away, warm and present, pressing past the resistance of her closed lips with patient determination until the door opened.

The door opened.

Her whole body reacted.

Every system updated from the chest downward as she received a kiss from a man who knew exactly what he was doing after an hour and a half of thorough preparation through pheromones, sensation, and touch. Her toes curled. Her hands — which had rested cautiously at her sides — moved upward and found his shoulders without waiting for permission.

Her eyes rolled.

Not figuratively. They rolled back literally behind closed lids, whites visible, as her nervous system hit full capacity from the overwhelming input.

Her hips—

Her pussy.

It clenched — warm, wet, leaking, freshly opened, still holding his seed from the shower while her own arousal mixed with it. The walls contracted around the warm mory of him, squeezing helplessly because her body wanted him back inside.

A thin warm thread of him ran out of her.

It slid slowly down her inner thigh, warm and specific against the smooth skin, like pressure released from a champagne bottle opened too fast, the contents following gravity.

Her hips twitched.

They moved involuntarily toward him with full pelvic urgency even though she was lying down and had nowhere to go.

Then the weight ca.

Veronica’s weight.

She had climbed up.

Veronica settled deliberately onto his back — her breasts pressing flat against his shoulder blades, pink nipples warm and comfortable there, her hips finding his lower back, her thighs bracketing his sides like a woman whose body had morized this spot and was returning to it.

The sandwich.

His chest pressed down against Frau Müller’s breasts from above. Veronica’s breasts pressed against his back from behind. Frau Müller lay at the bottom with his weight compressing her full heavy breasts between them, her nipples pushed into his skin, his skin pushed into hers, and Veronica’s weight above adding to everything.

From below, sandwiched under this — she felt his cock.

It rested against her thigh. Warm and hard and fully present. Not inside her yet. Just against her. The thick, blunt, considerable length lay there casually, letting her know it was there.

She broke the kiss.

"What are you—" Her voice ca out wrecked again, thin and breathless. "You’re very heavy—"

He chuckled.

It was low, warm, and genuine. Not perford. The real sound of a man who found the complaint reasonable and was not going to change anything.

Veronica’s mouth found his ear from above.

She nibbled with warm familiarity — her lips working the curve of his ear the way she knew produced the results she wanted.

He moved.

It happened in one smooth motion — his hands found Frau Müller’s thighs with clear decision about what ca next. Her legs stayed pressed together, the last instinctive defense after he had been inside her in the shower.

He spread them.

He did it with sheer strength — not a struggle, not prolonged, just quiet overwhelming power that made her resistance irrelevant. Her legs opened with helpless yielding because the decision to resist no longer mattered.

The cool air of the room found her.