After the intense session, we didn’t immediately get out.

Instead, Lydia grabbed a soft sponge and some fragrant soap, her red eyes still hazy with satisfaction.

"Let me clean you, young master," she whispered, her voice husky.

She moved behind me in the tub, pressing her soft, full breasts against my back as she began washing me.

The sponge glided slowly over my shoulders and down my chest in sensual circles.

Her free hand followed, fingers tracing every line of muscle, teasingly brushing over my nipples before sliding lower.

She took her time on my abs. Warm, soapy water cascaded down my skin as she leaned in and placed soft, open-mouthed kisses along the side of my neck.

I leaned back into her touch, enjoying the intimate feel of her body against mine.

When she reached my cock, still half-hard from our earlier rounds, she wrapped her slender fingers around it gently. She stroked with slow, deliberate movements while the sponge cleaned the mess we had made.

She didn’t try to make me cum again. She simply teased, squeezing lightly at the base before sliding up to the sensitive head, her thumb circling the tip until I let out a low groan.

"My turn," I said, turning around to face her.

I took the sponge from her hand and pulled her closer so she was straddling my thigh.

Starting from her neck, I washed her slowly, letting the soapy water run down over her full breasts.

I paid special attention to them, cupping each heavy mound and letting my thumbs brush over her stiff nipples until they hardened even more.

Lydia bit her lip, a soft sigh escaping her as I trailed the sponge down her stomach and between her legs.

I cleaned her swollen, sensitive pussy with gentle strokes. My fingers occasionally slipped between her folds to tease her clit.

She shivered and pressed closer, her breath warm against my ear, but we both knew we weren’t going for another round right now.

It was pure, erotic intimacy. Slow touches, lingering caresses, and the occasional soft kiss on her shoulder or collarbone.

We stayed like that for a few more minutes, washing each other in comfortable silence, broken only by quiet sighs and the gentle splash of water.

The flower petals floated around us, sticking to our wet skin as we enjoyed the closeness.

Eventually, we stepped out of the tub.

I helped her dry off first, running the towel over her curves with teasing slowness before she did the same for me.

Once we were dry, we got dressed.

I chose a simple yet elegant black tunic with silver embroidery along the collar and sleeves, paired with dark trousers that hugged my legs comfortably.

Over it, I threw on a long black coat with subtle cursed runes woven into the fabric, giving it a faint, powerful aura.

The outfit made me look every bit the young master of the Targaryen clan. Refined, dangerous, and commanding.

Lydia slipped into her maid uniform. A classic black-and-white dress that clung to her figure perfectly.

The top was fitted, accentuating her full breasts and narrow waist, while the skirt was short enough to show off her long, toned legs.

A white apron tied neatly at her waist, and a small frilled headpiece sat atop her red hair.

She looked both innocent and incredibly seductive at the same time. The perfect blend of servant and temptress.

She adjusted the apron with a small smile, then looked up at me with those bright red eyes.

"Shall I accompany you to the training ground, young master?" she asked softly, though the teasing glint in her gaze gave away her thoughts.

I smirked, pulling her close for one last lingering kiss before releasing her.

"Not today. I need to focus on training. But tonight..." I let the promise hang in the air.

Lydia’s cheeks flushed slightly as she bowed gracefully, the short maid skirt riding up just enough to give me a tempting view.

"As you wish, young master."

With that, I left the room feeling refreshed, energized, and already looking forward to the next time I could have her again.

The walk to the training ground was brisk. Since the competition father mentioned was approaching, I had to be prepared.

With my overpowered physique, I didn’t need to do much. However, training was still required.

’Despite that... if anyone knew I was already at the fourth stage Cursed Master rank, they would be beyond shocked,’ I muttered internally, a smirk grazing my lips.

Naturally, I had three bonded partners now. With each of them training, my strength increased drastically every day since I returned.

As a result, even without direct effort, my power kept rising.

’Heh... strongest geniuses of the country? They’d all be buried under my feet,’ I thought with a quiet laugh.

Now I understood why my predecessor believed he would dominate the world if everything went right.

Who wouldn’t, with power constantly growing and women at his side?

These thoughts lingered as I finally reached the training ground.

I spotted Rosaline in her training gear, and the sight alone made my cock twitch despite how recently I had emptied myself.

She wore a form-fitting black combat outfit that looked designed to both protect and seduce.

The top was a cropped, sleeveless leather vest that hugged her full breasts tightly. The material was thin enough to outline the hardened peaks of her nipples pressing against it.

Deep V-cuts ran down the front, revealing a generous amount of pale cleavage and the smooth valley between her breasts.

The vest ended just below her ribs, leaving her toned midriff completely exposed. Every flex of her abs was visible under the sheen of light sweat.

Below, she wore high-waisted leather shorts that barely reached mid-thigh. They clung to her wide hips and round ass like a second skin, stretching slightly whenever she moved.

The shorts were cut high on the sides, showing off the full length of her long, toned legs and the teasing curve where thigh met ass.

Thin straps wrapped around her upper thighs, accentuating the muscle and drawing the eye upward.

Her fiery red hair was tied in a high, messy ponytail that swayed with every movement, a few strands sticking to her neck and collarbone.

Black fingerless gloves covered her hands, and sleek combat boots reached just below her knees, making her legs look even longer.

The outfit was practical for training. Flexible, durable, reinforced with faint glowing cursed runes along the edges.

Yet it radiated raw sensuality.

Every curve of her body was on display. The swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, and the powerful lines of her thighs and ass.

Sweat glistened on her exposed skin, making her look like a warrior goddess forged from both battle and temptation.

Rosaline noticed me staring the moment I entered and smirked, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her gloved hand. The motion made her breasts shift enticingly against the tight leather.

"The fuck are you staring at, prodigy?" she asked, voice low and teasing, one hip cocked to the side.

"You look beautiful," I said smoothly, my gaze still dragging across her.

Her face flushed slightly, clearly not expecting that level of boldness.

Still, a smile tugged at her lips. Aristarkh wasn’t hiding their relationship, and she liked that.

Just as she was about to reply, her expression shifted.

She frowned slightly, noticing five men nearby staring at them. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"Five of you, come here," she ordered calmly, causing all five men to break into cold sweats.