My Xianxia Harem Life

And of course, the two didn't stop there—they spent the entire night tangled in each other's arms, bodies moving in perfect rhythm as they made love again and again.

Sometimes they were wild and sometimes they were gentle in their fucking also.

There were no words, only sighs, moans, and the soft whisper of skin against skin. Hours passed unnoticed, swept away in a haze of lust, intimacy, and unspoken love.

For both Riley and Veronica, this night felt different—raw, intense, almost sacred. A night to remember. A night to crave again.

Moments like this had become a rarity in Riley's life. With multiple wives now sharing his bed, his nights were often filled with group passion and shared attention.

But a quiet, private evening with just one of them—just the two of them—was almost a forgotten luxury. It made the intimacy that much deeper.

No distractions, no divided focus. Just Veronica, radiant and hungry, giving him all of herself and taking all of him in return.

By the time exhaustion finally took them, the first pale hints of dawn were already kissing the sky.

Veronica lay atop Riley, her bare skin glowing softly in the low morning light, a serene smile gracing her lips. She was deeply satisfied—emotionally, physically, spiritually.

Her body, still joined with his, pulsed with aftershocks of their final climax. Riley's arms were wrapped protectively around her, and his chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm beneath her.

That was how they slept—connected, content, and completely at peace.

Some hours later, their room, still dim and warm from the night's passion, was disturbed by the faint sound of the door creaking open.

"Oh… my… that's… that's…" A soft gasp broke the silence.

Standing frozen in the doorway was one of Veronica's sisters—a young woman of breathtaking beauty, delicate and untouched by experience.

Her wide eyes stared, transfixed, as her hand flew to her mouth in shock. She had come only to check if her sister was awake… and instead witnessed something she was never meant to see.

Her gaze was drawn helplessly to the scene before her. Riley lay on his back, statuesque and powerful even in sleep.

Veronica still straddled him, her body lax but visibly flushed, as if still glowing from the passion of the night.

And there—between them—his cock remained buried deep inside her, unmoved and still fully erect, a testament to Riley's unnatural virility.

The young woman couldn't breathe for a moment. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and an odd tightness formed in her chest and belly.

She had never seen a man's body before—certainly not like this. Not so close. Not so exposed. Not so… overwhelming.

She swallowed hard. Her fingers trembled on the edge of the door, and with immense effort, she gently stepped back, carefully closing it without a sound. But the damage was done.

The image was already seared into her memory—raw and vivid.

Try as she might, she wouldn't be able to unsee it. The sight of her sister and the man they all admired in such an intimate, carnal position had awakened something in her.

A strange mix of embarrassment, curiosity… and longing. It haunted her, teased her, ignited a burning ache she didn't yet understand.

Even as she walked away with measured steps and a crimson face, her thoughts remained behind in that room. And deep inside her heart, something fragile and forbidden had begun to stir.

***

"What's the matter, Clara? You seem distracted."

Thea's voice was smooth, almost melodic, but laced with curiosity. She stood with her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

Her tight cultivator's robes, dark purple with silver trim, clung to her like a second skin, emphasizing the strength and elegance of her figure.

Clara blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She hadn't realized she'd been staring blankly at the practice field for several breaths now.

"It's nothing," she said quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm just… thinking about our visitors. And my sister."

A lie. One she hoped Thea wouldn't question. Her heart, however, beat with guilt and heat. The image of Riley lying beneath her sister, still buried inside her, had been burned into her thoughts.

His cock—thick, long, pulsing with power even in sleep—had been seared into her mind with such clarity it felt like a hallucination.

She couldn't believe something like that actually existed outside of forbidden cultivation manuals and indecent novels.

Thea didn't seem convinced. She took a step closer, arms crossing under her ample chest. "Mm. Right. The visitors." Her voice held a teasing lilt. "You sure you're not thinking of something... or someone else?"

Clara's face warmed, but she forced herself to stay composed. "I'm just cautious. Our sister's welcoming them too easily. They're strangers in our territory. We don't even know what their goals are." Clara dodged the question.

"Agreed. They shouldn't be here at all," Thea said, tone turning cold. "They walk in with over a hundred Void Tribulation cultivators and act like that means something. But not a single one has stepped into the peak of the realm. That kind of strength might impress those backwater provinces, but here? They'll be slaughtered if they challenge any of the great clans. Especially the Austere Clan." She narrowed her eyes.

"They have three peak Void Tribulation old monsters at the top. Even our elders tread carefully around them."

Clara nodded slowly. "I guess you're right, Thea." But despite agreeing, her mind wasn't on sect politics or military strength.

She inhaled deeply and exhaled to steady herself. "Let's go for another round," she said suddenly, trying to clear her thoughts with physical discipline.

A moment later, the air trembled as their blades met. The sharp clang of metal on metal rang across the training ground, echoing off the stone walls.

Clara moved first, fast and fluid, her spiritual energy wrapping around her sword in a soft glow. Thea parried effortlessly, countering with a low sweep that forced Clara to leap back.

Their movements were refined, precise. Each stroke, each block, was filled with years of training.

Yet beneath the elegant combat was a growing tension—Clara's strikes were a little more aggressive than usual, her stance tighter, her breaths sharper.

Thea noticed.

"You're swinging like someone who needs to vent," she said between parries, her tone half-playful, half-observant.

Clara didn't respond. She didn't want to admit how right Thea was.

Every time she blinked, she saw it again—that vivid image of Riley's thick shaft, still embedded inside her sister while they slept, Veronica's expression of complete bliss.

Clara had never even kissed a man before. She was trained, refined, groomed for cultivation, not for pleasure. But after that accidental glimpse, her body had begun reacting in ways she couldn't control.

Heat. Ache. Curiosity. Envy.

The clash of swords grew louder, faster, until finally, with a sharp twist and a shimmer of movement, Thea disarmed Clara, knocking her blade from her hand.

It landed several meters away with a dull clatter.

"You're not focused," Thea said, lowering her sword. "Your spiritual flow is erratic. That's not like you."

Clara bent down, picking up her blade, trying to hide the slight tremble in her fingers. "I just didn't sleep well."

"Clearly." Thea tilted her head, studying her friend with a knowing smirk. "You know… if there's something on your mind, you can tell me."

Clara hesitated. Part of her wanted to confide in Thea—maybe even ask if she had ever seen a man like Riley before.

But the other part of her, the proud, restrained cultivator who had always held herself to the highest standards, refused to admit such thoughts. Not out loud.

"I'll be fine," she said quietly. "Just give me a moment."

She walked a few paces away and sat beneath the shade of a spirit tree, sword resting across her knees. Her chest rose and fell slowly, eyes closed, but her mind was anything but calm.

Why did I look?

Why can't I stop thinking about it?

Why do I…

She bit her lip, hard. There was a tightness between her thighs she couldn't will away. Not with sparring. Not with cultivation. And certainly not with denial.

The image of Riley haunted her—and it wasn't going away anytime soon.

***

A couple of days passed, and several of the factions and groups that had initially accompanied Riley began to bid their farewells.

These were the bold ones—those confident enough to forge ahead on their own. However, a significant portion remained behind, choosing to wait for Riley to take the lead.

They were not cowards, merely cautious, seeking assurance before making their move on this unfamiliar continent.

Despite their hesitation, they were far from idle. Fully aware of the risks, they prepared themselves for any eventuality.

They asked questions, gathered intelligence, and bartered with the local Gray Clan for maps, supplies, and information about the region.

Every action they took was calculated, driven by both respect for Riley's strength and a desire to survive whatever this foreign land might hold.

They picked the easy way, and no one judged them for it, especially not Riley.