Is it Wrong to Have a Harem in Danmachi

The basement was dark when she came to my bed.

Welf was asleep on the far side of the room, his breathing deep and regular, his back to us. Lili was in her cot near the wall, her blanket pulled to her chin, her body curled small and still. The only light came from the crack under the door where a candle was still burning in the hallway.

Her bare feet on the stone floor. Three steps from her curtain to my bed. She didn't pause. She didn't knock on the bed frame or whisper my name.

Hestia pulled her nightgown over her head, dropped it on the floor, and climbed onto me.

She was naked. The goddess-heat hit me through the thin blanket, her skin radiating warmth that had nothing to do with the room, and her thighs settled on either side of my hips and her weight pressed down. Her hair was loose, black strands pooling across my chest, and her blue eyes were open in the dark. Her mouth was flat.

"You kissed her," she said.

Quiet but not careful. She didn't care if anyone heard.

"Yes."

She pulled the blanket from between us. My shorts were the only thing left and her hands went to the waistband and stripped them down with a rough efficiency that wasn't asking permission. I lifted my hips. She got them past my thighs and my cock was already hard, standing in the cool basement air, and she looked at it and then looked at my face and her eyes were burning.

She took my wrists. Both of them, her small hands wrapping around them, and she pressed them into the mattress above my head. Her grip was stronger than it should have been. She was a goddess. Thousands of years old in a body that could have been painted on a pastry shop sign, and when she pinned my arms the strength was real.

"You came here wet," I said.

Her jaw tightened. The flush started at her chest and climbed. She was wet. The slick heat soaking through to my stomach where she sat, and she'd walked across the basement floor naked and dripping.

She lifted her hips. Reached between us. Wrapped her fingers around me, the grip tight enough that I hissed, and guided me to her entrance. The heat was immediate, the slick press of her against my tip, and for one second she held there. Looking down at me. Her blue eyes bright, her jaw set, her chest heaving.

She dropped.

The full length in one motion. Her hips slammed down and she took me to the base and the heat and the tightness and the wet squeeze hit all at once and a sound came out of my mouth that I didn't plan. She was soaked and tight and scorching and the goddess-heat was everywhere, hotter than a human body runs, and my fingers curled into fists above my head where she was pinning them.

"Ah-"

Her sound on the first impact. Bitten back halfway, caught between her teeth, but audible. The second drop was harder and the sound was louder. "Ah- ah-"

She started riding me.

Her hips lifted and slammed down and the bed creaked under us, the old frame protesting, the sound cracking through the quiet basement. Her breasts bounced with each impact, heavy, full, swinging in the faint light from the hallway, and her thighs gripped my sides and her fingers were bruising my wrists and the wet slap of her body hitting mine filled the room.

Lili was six feet away. The wet slap was echoing off the stone walls. Hestia didn't look at Lili's cot. She didn't lower her voice. She didn't slow down.

"Ah- ah- ah- ah-" Rhythmic, matching her pace, a vocalization on every drop, louder than she'd ever been.

I pulled against her grip. She pressed harder. Her small fingers tightened and her eyes on mine and her mouth was open and her face was fierce and wet around the edges and the pace was punishing, each drop hard enough that the bed frame scraped against the stone floor.

The wetness was getting worse. She was soaking now, her arousal dripping down my shaft and pooling at the base and the friction was gone, replaced by smooth liquid heat on every stroke. The slick sound changed, got wetter, louder, a squelching that accompanied every drop, and her flush deepened and she rode harder.

"Nn- ah- Bell-" My name cracking on a hard drop. She leaned down, her chest pressing against mine, her breasts flattening against my skin, and her mouth found my neck. The spot where Ais's gauntlet had scratched.

She bit.

Her teeth sank into the skin over the scratch, hard, deliberate, her jaw clamping down in the exact spot. The pain was sharp and bright and I bucked up into her and she moaned against my neck, her teeth vibrating against my skin, the sound running through the bite and into my blood. Her hips didn't stop. She was still bouncing while she bit, her body maintaining the rhythm, her mouth on my neck, and the combination of the pain and the heat and the wet grip of her was making my vision narrow.

My cock ached. The pressure was building behind my abs and in my thighs and I was getting close.

I pulled my wrists free. She let me. My hands went to her hips and gripped and I thrust up into her hard enough to lift her knees off the mattress and her teeth released my neck and her head snapped back.

"AH- there- right there- ah-" Her voice broke. Her nails dug into my chest, the crescents she always left when she was past the point of knowing she was doing it, and her walls clenched around me in a rhythmic pulse, tight then tighter, and her body went rigid.

She came. Her pussy squeezing in hard contractions that gripped me from base to tip, her stomach contracting visible in the dark, her mouth open and her eyes squeezed shut and her hips still grinding down through it. A sound came out of her that was low and long and broke at the end into a whimper and her body shuddered and her fingers scraped down my chest.

She was still clenching around me. Rhythmic, involuntary, the contractions fading slowly, and I was still hard inside her and the post-orgasm sensitivity was making every pulse electric.

She pulled off me.

The cold air hit my cock. She twisted off, went face-down on the mattress beside me, lifted her hips. Her face pressed into the pillow. Her ass was raised, her back arched, her thighs apart. The faint light from the door caught the sheen of wetness on her inner thighs.

"Like this," she said into the pillow. Muffled. "I want it like this."

The flush was spreading down her back.

"Say it again."

A beat. Her fingers gripped the edge of the mattress. "Like this." Quieter. "Please."

I got behind her. My hands on her waist, thumbs pressing into the dimples above her ass. She was small under my hands, her waist narrow enough that my fingers nearly met. I lined up. The angle was different, and when I pushed in she gasped into the pillow.

Tighter. The angle compressed her around me, narrower than cowgirl, and I slid deeper than I had in any position before. She made a sound that was high and startled and her toes curled, the same tell she didn't know she did, and her fingers twisted the sheet.

"Nn- oh- oh god-" Each syllable pressed into the fabric. Muffled but audible. I pulled back, the drag of her walls gripping my shaft, and drove in again. The wet slap was louder from behind, sharper, and she buried her face and screamed into the pillow.

I gripped her waist and gave her what she wanted.

Hard from the start. Each thrust drove deep and the wet sound was filthy, the squelch and slap echoing off the basement walls. Her back arched deeper. Her ass pressed back to meet me. The sweat was forming on her spine, a fine sheen in the faint light, and my thumbs slid on the wet skin above her hips.

"Ah- ah- Bell- don't stop-" Into the pillow. Fragments between thrusts. Her voice was wrecked, higher than her normal register. "Please- ah- ah- harder-"

Harder. My hips snapping forward, the force rocking her body into the mattress, and the bed frame was scraping against the stone in a rhythm that anyone awake in this room could count. The wet sounds were constant now, a continuous squelch on every thrust, and she was soaking the sheet beneath her.

I reached forward and gathered her hair, the black strands damp with sweat, holding them off her face. She turned her head on the pillow. One blue eye visible. Half-closed. Glazed.

"Don't- stop- I'm- nn- ah-"

Her walls fluttered. Clenched. Fluttered. Her toes curled against my shins. I drove in deep and held and her mouth opened on a silent cry and her whole body seized, her back arching hard, her ass pressing back against my hips, and the clenching was stronger than the first time, sustained, her pussy gripping me in waves.

I came inside her. My hands on her waist, buried deep, holding there while the heat pulsed out of me. The pressure released in waves that matched hers, her aftershocks pulling each one deeper, and my vision went white at the edges and the sound I made was raw and broken.

My forehead dropped against her shoulder blade. Her skin was damp with sweat. Her body was still twitching underneath me, small involuntary pulses, her thighs trembling against mine.

I breathed. She breathed. The pillow was damp where she'd pressed her face into it.

She twisted under me. Rolled onto her back. Reached up, grabbed my shoulders, pulled me down. Chest to chest. My weight on her, all of it, and she was so small that I covered her entirely. Her arms went around my back. Her legs wrapped around my thighs. She held me there, inside her, my cock softening in the wet heat, and the goddess-temperature radiated through both of us.

"I don't mind sharing," she said. Her voice was rough and quiet and her lips moved against my collarbone. "But I was first."

Her fingers found the bite mark on my neck. She pressed it. The sting was sharp.

"Don't forget."

"Never."

Her arms tightened. The falna on my back began to glow. Blue light, faint, seeping through the blanket and reflecting off the basement ceiling.

We lay there. The glow faded. Her breathing slowed against my chest and her arms relaxed and her legs unhooked from mine and her body softened into the mattress. Her head turned against my shoulder and she exhaled a breath that carried the last of the tension out of her.

"She'll be good to you," Hestia whispered. "Ais. She doesn't know how yet. But she will."

I didn't say anything.

"I'll teach her," Hestia said. "If she needs it."

She closed her eyes. Her hand found mine and held on, and her breathing evened and she was asleep.

My cock slipped out of her. Warmth leaked between us onto the sheet. The bed smelled like her and like sex and the bite on my neck throbbed in time with my pulse.

Across the room, in the dark, Lili's eyes were open.

She was on her back. Staring at the ceiling. Her blanket was pulled to her chin and her hands were fists in the sheet at her sides, the knuckles white. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was clenched and she was breathing through her nose in short controlled pulls.

I looked at her. She didn't look at me. Her eyes stayed on the ceiling and her fists stayed in the sheet and she lay there in the dark six feet away and she didn't close her eyes.

I closed mine.

When I opened them, it was morning, and Lili's cot was empty, and the sheet was pulled tight, and she was already gone.