My Taboo Harem!-Chapter 259: "As my Mate"
What am I doing? Why am I not pushing him away?
His hand cupped her cheek. Warm. Steady. Impossibly gentle for someone who’d just spent twenty minutes verbally eviscerating her.
And she leaned into it.
Leaned into it.
Like a woman starving for touch she hadn’t let herself want. Like a dragon who’d forgotten what warmth felt like until someone reminded her.
He stepped closer.
Close enough that their bodies almost touched. Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell that intoxicating scent even stronger now, could see the pulse jumping in his throat.
"Use me," he breathed.
She blinked.
"Use my presence. Use my chaos. Use everything I’m about to become." His thumb traced her cheekbone. "I’m going to make sure you’re free, Dravenna. And I’m going to protect you."
She wanted to scoff.
Wanted to slap sense into him.
Wanted to laugh in his face and ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, making promises like that. How could she use him? What could he possibly do in a fight against that family? In the end, she’d be left alone to deal with the Heavenchilds after they destroyed him. After they erased him. After they made an example of the charity case who’d dared to dream above his station.
How was he—Phei, godly as he looked, unique and mysterious as he’d become—supposed to fight a family that ran the world?
How was he supposed to protect her?
She was more powerful than him. More powerful than anyone he knew. And she’d still had to bend. Still had to kneel. Still had to watch everything she’d built become a prison she couldn’t escape.
What could he do?
What could he possibly—
Yet she believed him.
She believed him.
Like faith. Like instinct. Like the way you believe in gravity or sunrise or the certainty that spring follows winter. She looked into those purple eyes and something deep in her chest—something ancient, something that had survived against all Main Legacies back in her prime and was still burning—recognized the truth in them.
He wasn’t bluffing.
He would do it.
She didn’t know how. Didn’t know why. Didn’t understand what made her so certain about a boy she’d only truly seen for the first time today.
But she believed him.
"I’ll protect you," he said.
His voice had changed. Deeper. Rougher. Something raw bleeding through the cracks.
"As my own."
Her breath caught.
"As my Mate."
She didn’t have time to process.
Didn’t have time to think, to analyze, to build walls or find objections or remember all the reasons this was insane.
Phei kissed her.
Directly. Firmly. His lips claiming hers with a certainty that left no room for doubt, no space for hesitation. He kissed her like he had every right to. Like she was already his. Like they’d been doing this for years instead of meeting for the first time an hour ago.
She made an attempt to push him away.
Her hands came up—to shove, to create distance, to remember who she was and who he was and why this could never—
They fisted in his shirt instead.
Gripped the fabric like a lifeline.
And she kissed him back.
Deeper.
The word echoed through her mind as she pulled him closer, as her lips parted and her tongue found his and four years of loneliness and rage and desperate, suffocating need came pouring out of her like water through a broken dam.
She shifted him.
Turned them.
Slammed his back against the mirror hard enough that the glass shuddered, and she didn’t care, couldn’t care, couldn’t think about anything except the taste of him and the heat of him and the way his hands had found her waist and were holding her like she was something precious.
She grew aggressive.
Demanding.
The Dragoness waking up after years of sleep, and she was hungry.
[DING!]
[New Ability Acquired!]
[HUNGER TOUCH — Level 1: Your touch ignites supernatural arousal in those you desire. Physical contact amplifies attraction exponentially.
[+5000 EXP
+15 Charisma Points]
Something warm enveloped Phei’s entire being.
A golden heat that started in his chest and spread outward, down his arms, into his fingertips, everywhere his skin touched hers. It felt like power. Like purpose. Like something ancient and primal clicking into place.
But he barely noticed.
Because Dravenna had fisted her hands in his hair and pulled.
Dragged him deeper into the kiss. Bit his lip hard enough to sting. Made a sound against his mouth that was half growl, half moan, entirely desperate—the sound of a woman who’d been starving for decades and had finally found something worth eating.
He held her waist.
Lifted.
She wrapped her legs around him like it was the most natural thing in the world, like their bodies had been designed to fit together exactly like this. Her back arched. Her fingers tightened in his hair. Her hips rolled against the bulge of his cock and—
Fuck.
[DING! NEW MILESTONE ACHIEVED!]
[DRAGON’S LUST: You’ve awakened the lust of a fellow dragon... a female dragon!
Note: A dragon’s lust with a fellow dragon is usually insatiable. Good luck satisfying decades of craving, Host!
+1,000 EXP
+10 Stat Points]
Decades of craving.
The system wasn’t kidding.
Dravenna kissed him like she was trying to devour him. Like she’d spent forty years in a desert and he was the first water she’d found. Her teeth grazed his neck. Her nails raked down his back through his shirt. She was everywhere at once—heat and hunger and years of rage channeled into something that felt like worship and war at the same time.
He’d come here to free a dragon.
He hadn’t expected the dragon to try to consume him whole.
Not complaining, he thought dizzily, as her lips found that spot below his ear and his brain temporarily stopped functioning. Definitely not complaining.
But somewhere in the back of his mind—the part that was still capable of thought—he realized something important.
He’d done it.
He’d actually fucking done it.
The mission. The impossible, suicidal, "make a move on the Dean" mission that the system had thrown at him like a grenade with the pin already pulled.
Completed.
And the Dragoness of Paradise—the woman who’d made titans kneel, who’d been broken and caged and forced to serve lesser beings for long years—
Dravenna Ashford was lethal in the way only true predators could afford to be—slim, sleek, and devastatingly elegant, like a female dragon coiled in human silk, every line of her body honed for precision strikes rather than brute force.
Her silver hair was swept into a high, effortless chignon—waves so glossy they looked liquid mercury, a few artful tendrils escaping to frame a face so beautiful. Pearls at her throat—and matching drops in her ears.
The white embroidered halter top was silk—clinging to the high, elegant swell of her breasts, the deep plunge between them revealing just enough porcelain skin. No deep cleavage, just the suggestion of fullness—firm, high, perfectly proportioned to her lithe frame, nipples faintly visible through the thin silk when she shifted, dark rose shadows that promised danger.
Her waist was impossibly narrow—a dramatic, corseted cinch that flared into hips with the slow, lethal grace of a blade being drawn.
Cream high-waisted trousers hugged her long, toned legs—slim, endlessly long, the kind of legs that looked carved from moonlight and muscle, ending in razor-sharp heels that could draw blood if she chose to step on someone’s throat.
The trousers were tailored to sinful precision—accentuating the subtle curve of her ass, the long line of her thighs, the way her hips swayed with predatory elegance rather than voluptuous invitation around his waist.
She moved like gravity had negotiated terms with her personally—each hump was a silent promise, every glide a reminder that some women don’t wait—they hunt.
The body beneath the silk was obscene in its perfection: tall, lithe, dangerously slender yet powerfully curved where it mattered—breasts high and firm, waist tiny enough to span with both hands, hips flaring just enough to make the viewer imagine gripping them while she rode with lethal precision.
Dravenna Ashford didn’t need voluptuous excess.
She was a female dragon in human form—sleek, elegant, and built to kill with beauty alone. Soft like the velvet lining of a coffin. Delicate like the trigger pull on a custom sniper rifle.
And Phei had made a mistake. A glorious, terrifying, beautiful mistake. He’d woken a dragon. And the dragon was starving, rabid, fucking insatiable.
*****
A/N: Nah—before anyone starts thinking "oh here we go again, another random horny Chapter where a powerful woman just loses her mind for no reason"... relax.
This wasn’t some cheap spontaneous HORNY switch getting flipped.
And it definitely wasn’t Phei’s abilities doing some invisible mind-control nonsense, or some "aura" making her act stupid.
No.
The Dean didn’t escalate that fast because she suddenly became desperate or irrational.
She escalated because something already existed beneath the surface—something old, something personal, something tied to a bigger chain of events that Phei doesn’t even fully KNOW yet.
I am going to give you the Chapter that reveals what is actually and what or Who Dravenna is to Phei. And Phei doesn’t know. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮
Right now, it might look like she’s moving too fast.
But soon... readers are going to realize:
she wasn’t moving fast.
She was moving toward something she’s been holding for a long time.
And when the truth drops, it’s going to make this entire moment feel less like lust...
...and more like inevitable collision. THANK YOU!
