Rebate King: Every Beauty I Spoil Makes Me a Billionaire

Sophie remained perched on Stan’s thigh, her soft weight a constant, delicious pressure. With Maya gone, she wasted no time leaning closer, her breath warm against his ear.

”You looked so lonely when we knocked,” she murmured, voice low and playful. ”Sitting here all by yourself... half-naked... waiting for someone to take care of you... We’re here to cheer you up” Her fingers traced slow, deliberate circles over his chest, occasionally brushing a nipple just enough to make it tighten. ”I kept imagining how good it would feel to climb onto your lap and remind you what you’re missing.”

Stan’s hand slid up her back, then around to cup the heavy underside of one breast through the thin fabric of her dress. He squeezed gently, feeling the soft give of her flesh, the way her nipple stiffened against his palm. Sophie exhaled a soft, pleased sound and pressed herself more firmly into his touch.

”You two always know exactly how to spoil me,” he said, voice rough with appreciation.

Sophie smiled against his neck, then nipped the skin lightly. ”That’s the point. You’re our king tonight. We feed you, we touch you, we do whatever you want.” Her free hand drifted lower, resting boldly over the growing hardness between his legs. She gave a slow, teasing stroke through his pants. ”And if you want to keep your hands full while we do it, we won’t complain.”

Across the room, Camilla’s spiritual sense painted every detail in vivid clarity. She could feel the heat of Sophie’s body against Stan’s, hear the soft wet sound of the girl’s lips on his skin, sense the possessive way his hand molded Sophie’s breast. A restless heat coiled low in Camilla’s stomach. She told herself it was irritation. Or curiosity. Anything but the strange, restless ache that made her shift almost imperceptibly on the jade bed.

Maya returned sooner than expected, carrying a large wooden tray carefully balanced in both hands. The rich, savory aroma of honey-glazed chicken, creamy garlic pasta, and warm sweet buns filled the room. She set the tray on the low table near the bed, then turned back toward Stan with a soft smile.

As she approached to reclaim her place on his other thigh, Stan’s hand left Sophie just long enough to deliver a firm, appreciative smack to Maya’s plump ass. The soft flesh bounced under his palm with a satisfying jiggle; Maya’s soft laugh was equal parts startled and delighted. She settled onto his lap with a contented sigh, her heavy weight sinking against him, her ass spreading warmly over his thigh exactly as Sophie’s had.

Now both girls were seated on him, warm, soft, and utterly present. Their thighs pressed against his, their breasts occasionally brushing his chest as they moved. Stan’s hands immediately found them again: one cupping Sophie’s breast, thumb circling the stiffened peak through the silk; the other sliding under Maya’s dress just enough to squeeze the soft, full curve of her ass before drifting up to claim her breast as well. He kneaded them slowly, deliberately, enjoying the different textures, Sophie’s firmer, rounder flesh; Maya’s softer, heavier weight filling his palm.

Maya picked up a piece of the honey-glazed chicken between elegant fingers and brought it to his lips. ”Open for me, my love,” she purred. Stan obeyed, letting her feed him the tender, sticky-sweet meat. As he chewed, Sophie leaned in and licked a stray drop of glaze from the corner of his mouth, her tongue lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

”Good?” Sophie asked, eyes half-lidded.

”Perfect,” he answered, and rewarded her by squeezing her breast a little harder. She bit her lip and shifted on his lap, grinding her ass subtly against his thigh.

They took turns feeding him. Maya offered creamy pasta next, twirling the noodles carefully so nothing dripped, then watching with soft eyes as he accepted each bite. Sophie held a warm red-bean bun to his mouth, letting him take a slow bite while her free hand stroked his chest in lazy, possessive patterns. Between bites they kissed him, soft pecks on the lips, lingering presses of mouths, the occasional deeper taste when one of them couldn’t resist.

”You should always be fed like this,” Maya whispered, brushing a crumb from his lower lip with her thumb before sucking the digit clean. ”Pampered. Touched. Worshipped.”

Sophie nuzzled his jaw. ”And if your hands get lonely, we’re right here.” She guided one of his hands more firmly over her breast, encouraging him to squeeze. ”Feel how much we missed you.”

Stan did. He groped them openly now, palms full of soft, warm flesh, fingers sinking into the plush give of their curves, thumbs stroking stiff nipples through silk until both girls were breathing a little faster. Their asses shifted restlessly on his thighs, the heat of their bodies soaking into him. Every small movement sent another pulse of arousal through him.

Camilla watched it all through her spiritual sense, unable to look away. The wet sounds of feeding and kissing. The soft, needy little noises Sophie made when Stan’s hand tightened on her breast. The way Maya’s hips rolled almost unconsciously against his lap. Camilla’s face felt hot. Her heart beat too quickly. Pride kept her frozen on the jade bed, but something deeper, something she refused to name, kept her spiritual sense locked on the scene.

’He’s touching them so freely... so possessively...’ ’And they melt for him.’ ’Why does it feel like the room is getting smaller?’

Stan accepted the last bite, a final piece of honey-glazed chicken offered by both girls at once, their fingers brushing his lips together. He chewed slowly, savoring it, then licked the residual sweetness from Maya’s fingertips before doing the same to Sophie’s. Both girls shivered at the feel of his tongue.

Maya leaned in and kissed him deeply, tasting the shared glaze on his tongue. When she pulled back, Sophie claimed her turn, hotter, hungrier, her mouth open and demanding.

When they finally parted, both girls were flushed, lips glossy, eyes heavy with desire. They remained seated on his lap, bodies soft and warm and completely available, waiting for whatever came next.

Across the room, Camilla’s fingers had curled tightly into the silk of her bedding. She still had not turned around.