The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

Chapter 18: Chapter 18: Good Morning, Rose

With that thought, he locked his gaze onto her flushed, feral face and simply endured the onslaught, letting the dominant Duchess use his body to her heart’s content as she continued to fuck him into the mattress.

The next morning, the soft rays of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains of the ivory bedroom, casting a warm glow over the massive bed.

Azriel slowly blinked his eyes open, his body feeling heavier than it ever had in either of his lives.

He looked down and found Rosalind resting peacefully on his chest.

Her pristine white hair was tangled across his torso, and she was looking up at him with a gaze filled with boundless, quiet affection.

Between his thighs, he felt a familiar, tight warmth, his cock was still buried deep inside her, throbbing with a dull soreness.

He honestly didn’t know how many times he had cummed last night, or how many times she had ridden him to her own explosive climaxes.

He had been too completely exhausted to keep count, his stamina bar having spent the latter half of the night hovering dangerously close to empty.

As he looked down at her soft features, softened by the morning light, he couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly.

It was almost absurd how such an innocent, regal face could transition into such a crazed, feral look when she was fucking him into the mattress.

Sensing his movement, Rosalind leaned up slightly.

Her golden, slitted eyes softened even further as she stared at him, her lips parting instinctively.

Azriel leaned in, closing the distance between them.

They shared a slow, gentle morning kiss, tasting each other thoroughly without any of the frantic urgency of the night before, just enjoying the lingering warmth of their bond.

When they finally parted, Azriel offered a lazy, sleepy smile.

"Good morning, Duchess."

Rosalind didn’t pull away.

Instead, she lifted a slender hand, placing a single, soft finger gently over his lips.

"I originally wanted to take you in as a mere slave," she murmured, her voice stripped of its usual icy authority, replaced by a deep, vulnerable sincerity.

"But after you proved your unprecedented talent, and after you proved yourself in this bed by claiming my virginity... I don’t want a toy. I want you to be mine. Mine, and my dau—"

She caught herself, her breath hitching for a fraction of a second before she shook her head, clearing the slip of the tongue.

"Never mind. I want you to be my partner."

She leaned her forehead against his chest, her white tail lightly wrapping around his ankle beneath the sheets.

"So... stop calling me by my title. Call me by my name."

Azriel’s smile widened, a flash of genuine amusement crossing his violet eyes.

He reached up, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulled her down into another deep, lingering kiss.

When he pulled apart, his smirk turned into a soft, devastatingly intimate smile, the kind of look that sent a sudden, frantic flutter straight through Rosalind’s heart, making her chest tighten with an overwhelming wave of affection.

"Good morning, Rose."

Rosalind’s golden eyes shimmered at the sound of her new name, a brilliant, breathtaking smile gracing her lips.

The cold, unapproachable Duchess of the East had completely vanished, replaced by a woman deeply ensnared by the man beneath her.

"Let’s go to the bath," she murmured softly, her voice still thick with the laziness of the morning.

Azriel smiled back at her.

Disengaging himself from her tight warmth with a wet, slippery slide that made her gasp, he threw back the heavy velvet sheets.

Before Rosalind could even react, he hooked one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, effortlessly lifting her up in a flawless princess carry.

Rosalind’s eyes went wide. Her white tail stiffened in mid-air.

"W-what are you doing?" she stammered, her regal composure fracturing instantly.

"Put me down, Azriel! This... this is highly improper! Carrying your partner is a woman’s duty. You are supposed to be the one carried!"

Azriel’s mind momentarily went blank.

Even though he possessed the memories of his host and knew damn well that Tartarus was a fiercely matriarchal world where women handled all the heavy lifting, chivalry, and physical dominance, his modern Earth brain still found it incredibly hard to get used to.

A woman sweeping him off his feet?

Yeah, right.

A slow, confident smirk spread across his face as he looked down at the flustered Duchess.

"What’s wrong with it, Rose? I’m just helping my partner out. Consider it a small token of my love."

The word ’love’ hit Rosalind like a physical strike.

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she immediately looked away, burying her face into the crook of his neck to hide her embarrassment.

She didn’t say another word, her hands submissively gripping his shoulders as she allowed a man to carry her for the first time in her life.

Azriel kicked open the double doors leading into the adjoining bathroom, and his jaw nearly dropped.

He thought his own chambers were lavish, but this place was on an entirely different level of opulence.

It was a massive hall carved from pristine white marble, adorned with gold fixtures and glowing mana crystals.

In the center lay a massive, sunken marble pool, steaming with crystal-clear water infused with fragrant medicinal herbs.

He walked down the marble steps, gently lowering Rosalind into the steaming pool.

The moment the warm, mineral-rich water touched her sore, over-exerted muscles, a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips.

"Ahhh..."

Azriel stepped into the pool right after her, sliding down until the water reached his chest.

A ragged sigh of relief left his throat as his muscles, battered from the grueling stamina drain of the previous night, finally began to relax.

True to the deeply ingrained beliefs of this world, Rosalind didn’t wait.

Shifting closer, she reached out and pulled Azriel’s back against her front, wrapping her slender arms around his chest to pull him flush against her body.

It was the standard matriarchal cuddling position—the woman acting as the protective shield.

Azriel didn’t resist, it would look too weird if he fought the basic social norms of the world this early on.

Instead, he leaned his head back onto her soft shoulder, letting out a comfortable breath.

Rosalind smiled softly, resting her chin on his damp hair as they sat together in a heavy, peaceful silence.

While she was enjoying the quiet intimacy, Azriel’s violet eyes flickered.

In his direct line of sight, the translucent neon system screen hummed to life, completely invisible to Rosalind.

He noticed the live stream had automatically shut down the moment they had both finally passed out from exhaustion last night.

His eyes immediately darted toward the final metrics.

[Stream Status: Concluded]

[Peak Concurrent Viewers: 1,569 Higher Entities]

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

The system notification log confirmed it, he had crushed the survival milestone.

He had not only avoided execution, but he had also thoroughly tamed the executioner.

Just as he was about to mentally tap the screen to claim his hidden rewards and check his newly unlocked features, he felt a soft, wet sensation on his skin.

Rosalind pressed a tender kiss to the side of his neck, right over the dark slave tattoo.

Then, taking a soft silk cloth dipped in the warm, herb-scented water, she began to gently and meticulously wash his shoulders, her movements incredibly tender as she took care of her new partner.