Chapter 192: Confessions
Morning bled in through the tall chamber windows, soft and golden, bathing Allen’s room in a muted hush. But there was no peace.
The room still smelled like last night—sweat, spit, tears, sex. Fina stirred first, curling against Allen’s chest, her leg slung over his hip, her skin warm and damp with sleep. Rinni was already awake, her cheek pressed to Allen’s thigh, watching him with a lazy, sly smile, like she was thinking filthy things but hadn’t decided whether to act on them yet. Elira lay at the foot of the bed, curled like a housecat in heat, body covered in dried messages and spit-streaks, face soft and dreamy.
Allen sat up slowly, his hair a tousled mess, his cock half-hard just from the way the air kissed his skin. The room was too quiet. The kneeling maids hadn’t moved all night, staying where they were told until their bodies grew numb. Brin’s legs trembled as Allen stood and walked past them, his cock bobbing gently, the girls’ eyes glued to it like it held every answer they didn’t know they needed.
"You can stretch," he said without turning. "But don’t talk. Not yet."
They obeyed instantly—arms raised, backs arched, but not a sound.
Allen dipped a cloth into the basin of water near the window, wiping his face, then his chest. He didn’t look back at the girls. "Today’s the day you confess. One by one. Loud enough for everyone to hear."
Calla flinched.
"Fina," Allen murmured, "wake them up."
Fina slid off the bed like a shadow and moved to the girls, crouching behind Mira first, whispering something in her ear that made Mira nod, lip trembling. Then Tessa. Then Niva, whose thighs still bore bruises from being edged for hours. Then Calla, and lastly Brin, who wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Fina returned, lips twitching in amusement. "They’re scared."
"They should be," Allen said.
He turned to face them now, towel slung over his shoulder, cock swinging freely. "You want to be owned? Want to be marked? Then you bare more than your cunt. You bare your soul. Or you get nothing."