My Xianxia Harem Life

"Hmmmm…" Thea stirred weakly on the bed, her body feeling like it had been wrung out and left to dry. She was tired. More than tired even.

A low groan escaped her lips as she shifted under the covers, every small movement reminding her of the night before.

She was famished, her stomach hollow, but it was the soreness—the deep, bone-deep ache—that truly consumed her attention.

Her limbs were heavy, as if filled with lead, and her muscles throbbed with a dull, lingering pain.

Most of all, her pussy was swollen—tender, sore, and impossibly sensitive.

She winced as her thighs brushed together, the contact sending a jolt of overstimulated pleasure coursing through her.

Every nerve between her legs was still on fire.

She shivered involuntarily, the memories flooding back in vivid, breathless detail.

Riley had been relentless.

He had taken her again and again—without mercy, without pause.

He devoured her, possessed her, fucked her like a man starved.

He didn't stop even when she begged for a break, when her voice cracked from moaning too much, when her body trembled uncontrollably.

Not until she passed out, completely used and overflowing with him.

Now, in the quiet aftermath, Thea finally understood what her best friend Clara had meant all those times she'd grinned knowingly and whispered, "Riley's insatiable." It hadn't been a warning—it had been a prophecy.

Another shiver ran down her spine. Her eyes flicked to the figure lying beside her.

Riley was sleeping soundly, one arm draped lazily over the pillow where she'd been lying.

His chest rose and fell with steady, unbothered breaths, the image of perfect calm.

She stared at him in awe—and a little fear. He looked peaceful now, but she knew what kind of beast lived beneath that serenity.

She couldn't help but smile, her lips curling with a strange mixture of pride and disbelief.

She had kept up. She had taken everything he gave her. No, not just taken—welcomed it.

Loved it.

Her body had surrendered to him completely, and in return, he had brought her to peaks of ecstasy she didn't know existed.

Again. And again. And again. And again.

Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the sound of her own voice screaming his name, the feeling of his cock driving into her soaked cunt, the way she had come—like a fountain bursting open, uncontrollable and raw.

Over and over, until the lines between pain and pleasure blurred.

But now... now her body needed time. She needed to recover, to breathe.

Slowly, carefully, Thea slid out from under the covers.

Her thighs trembled as her feet touched the floor, and she stood on shaky legs, biting her lip to stifle a soft whimper.

Her skin was sticky with sweat, marked with faint bruises and love bites.

She reeked of sex—her scent, his scent, the shared evidence of a night that had almost broken her.

She glanced once more at Riley, her heart fluttering. She loved this man.

She loved what he did to her. But she also needed to walk without wobbling.

On her tiptoes, she made her way to the bathroom, her body aching with each step.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror—hair tousled, lips swollen, neck marked.

She looked wrecked. Fucked. Ruined. And yet, the sight made her smirk.

She looked like a woman who had been thoroughly claimed.

Turning on the water, Thea stepped inside and let the warm water wash over her.

She closed her eyes, letting it rinse away the sweat, the stickiness, the scent of his come that clung so stubbornly to her skin. It was both lewd and sexy.

And yet… part of her didn't want it gone.

Because the ache between her legs told her one thing loud and clear:

As soon as her body recovered, she'd crawl right back into that bed—and beg him to do it all over again.

***

Thea successfully executed a tactical retreat from Riley's sleeping form, slipping out of the tangled sheets with the precision of a thief in the night.

Her body protested with every movement—thighs trembling, muscles sore, and her poor, abused pussy still throbbing from the intense treatment Riley had given her.

She winced slightly as her feet touched the floor, her legs wobbly and unfamiliar, as if she had to relearn how to walk.

Ohhhh, Riley, she thought with a weak smile, gripping the wall for balance. What did you turn me into?

Every step she took felt like a slow, sensual reminder of the night before—of how he had taken her over and over again, pushing her beyond the limits she didn't know she had.

But even in her dazed exhaustion, one thought kept her going: Clara.

She needed to talk to her best friend. She had to.

After all, Clara was the one who'd looked her in the eye, weeks ago, and said with a smirk, "You have no idea what you're in for. Riley doesn't just sleep with you—he ruins you."

Back then, Thea had laughed. Now, she understood. Too well.

By the time she reached Clara's apartment, the soreness had settled deep into her bones.

Her hair was still a bit messy, her skin flushed with a lingering heat, and no amount of perfume could completely cover the scent of Riley that still clung to her body like a second skin.

Clara opened the door in her usual oversized T-shirt and fuzzy slippers, and the moment her eyes landed on Thea, her expression morphed into an all-too-familiar smirk.

"Well, well, look who survived the lion's den," Clara drawled, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. "You look like someone who has a very long story to tell."

Thea could only laugh—tired, breathless, and flushed from the inside out. "I know, right?" she said, stepping inside carefully. "God, Clara… I don't even know where to begin."

Clara handed her a warm cup of tea and motioned for her to sit on the couch. "Then start anywhere. Just don't leave out the juicy parts."

Thea sat down gingerly, letting out a small sigh of relief as the cushions welcomed her sore body.

She held the cup between both hands and shook her head with a disbelieving smile.

"You were right. About everything. Riley… he's insane. He didn't stop. Not once. I think I passed out sometime around round five—or maybe it was six? I don't even remember. He just kept going."

Clara burst out laughing. "Told you! That man is a sex machine. And you thought I was exaggerating."

Thea groaned and covered her face. "He had me crying, Clara. Not from pain—just from being overwhelmed. My body didn't know what to do anymore. And I—I liked it. I came so many times, I actually lost count."

Clara leaned in, eyes wide with a mix of awe and amusement. "Did he do the thing with the fingers and the tongue at the same time?"

Thea nodded furiously. "Yes! And he looked at me the entire time. Like I was his meal, not a person. I've never felt so…" She paused, searching for the right word. "…devoured."

Clara giggled. "Girl, welcome to the club."

Thea laughed too, feeling a strange mix of pride and embarrassment. "I didn't think I could handle a guy like him. But somehow, I did. Barely. And now? I'm ruined. I'll never look at a bed—or a man—the same way again."

"Yup. That's how it starts," Clara said, sipping her own tea. "You let Riley into your bed, and the next thing you know, you're walking like a baby deer, fantasizing about the next time he'll destroy you again."

Thea laughed harder than she had in days, clutching her sore stomach. "I mean… you're not wrong."

The two best friends fell into easy conversation after that, recounting experiences, trading stories, and laughing over shared memories.

For all the soreness, all the exhaustion, Thea felt lighter—relieved, even. Because she wasn't alone in what she was feeling.

She had Clara.

And together, they celebrated what only a few women would ever know: the chaos, madness, and breathtaking pleasure of being taken by Riley Mason.

***

Later that night, Riley quietly entered Clara's room, his presence commanding even in silence.

Clara looked up from her bed, the flicker of surprise in her eyes quickly replaced by something darker, more intrigued.

There was no need for words—she already knew why he was there.

Just a minute later, Thea slipped in behind him, her cheeks flushed, her steps hesitant but purposeful.

She and Clara exchanged a look—nervous, curious, electric.

Something unspoken passed between them, a mixture of anticipation and wonder.

It was the first time the three of them would share a bed together.

The room practically pulsed with energy, charged with something raw and forbidden.

Excitement danced in the air, crackling between glances, heartbeats, and slow, deliberate touches.

Clara and Thea had never seen each other naked before.

Now, standing in the same soft glow of lamplight, they took each other in—curious gazes lingering over soft curves, flushed skin, and the growing arousal in each other's eyes.

There was no awkwardness, only fascination and the slow, thrilling realization of what was about to happen.

And then Riley moved.