God of Milfs: The Gods Request Me To Make a Milf Harem

June's mouth stayed slightly ajar, eyes fixed on the curtain where Olivia had disappeared.

"…Did she just—"

Kafka flexed his bitten hand, still looking at it as if the imprint of her teeth might have some kind of answer for him.

"She bit me…" He muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

The store was silent for a beat, the air thick with disbelief.

One of the younger employees finally whispered what they were all thinking. "That...was not what I imagined she'd do."

Heads nodded all around.

They all had the same image of Olivia, cold, poised, carrying herself like she'd been born in a palace and knew exactly how to look down on peasants.

In their minds, she was the sort of woman who would cut a person down with a single glance, not sink her teeth into them like a sulky schoolgirl. The contrast between her usual aura and what had just happened was so jarring it almost didn't feel real.

It was June who broke out of the daze first. She blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it, and then turned toward Kafka.

And what she saw startled her, he wasn't smirking, or laughing, or making some dry remark.

He looked...irritated.

Not mildly annoyed. Not playful. Genuinely irritated, his lips tight, eyes narrowed, like the last of his patience had been scraped away.

Seeing this, she pushed herself up, crutch tapping against the floor, and closed the short distance between them. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she spoke in a low, placating tone.

"Calm down, alright, Kafka? There's no need to get worked up. She's clearly...in a mood. Let it be."

Kafka turned his head to look at her, forcing a thin smile like he was holding something in by sheer willpower. His bitten hand flexed again, the faint mark still visible.

"No..." He said finally, voice low but firm. "I can't calm down anymore."

June blinked, her grip on his shoulder tightening slightly. "Kafka—"

"I'm tired of playing these roundabout games with her." He cut in, his tone gaining heat. "I thought I could cheer her up. I thought I could get her to finally drop whatever's making her so frustrated with me."

"...But no, she goes out of her way to bite me. Like a dog. Like a freaking rabid mutt."

A couple of employees winced at the sharpness in his voice.

His eyes narrowed further. "Seems like the only way forward is to confront her directly."

June opened her mouth to argue, but he was already moving.

He turned and stormed toward the dressing area, that sharp, determined stride carrying him faster than she could follow with her crutch. She called after him once, but he didn't slow.

Employees exchanged glances, half-anticipation, half-dread and without hesitation, Kafka slid aside the curtain to Olivia's fitting room and stepped in.

He was ready, ready to unload every question and every bit of frustration, to strip away the polite edges and deal with this head-on. He had his first sentence already formed in his head.

But the second he stepped inside, every coherent thought fled.

His eyes caught the sight of Olivia mid-change, her pale, full breasts swinging free as she slid her bra off.

For half a second, the sheer fullness of them held his gaze, they were a flawless curve, heavy enough that even without support they sat high on her chest.

But then his focus shifted, and he froze completely.

Her nipples.

Or rather, the absence of them.

Instead of the usual perky tips he half-remembered from the one time he'd caught a glimpse before, her nipples were sunken into the pillowy expanse of her areolas, completely hidden.

Only the large, soft pink circles of skin were visible, smooth and unbroken, as if the nipples themselves had retreated deep within.

It threw him entirely....How had he not noticed this before?

Olivia, meanwhile, had been ready to snap at him the moment he barged in, her lips already parted to deliver the first blow in what she thought would be a verbal brawl.

But then she saw where his eyes went. Saw that sudden shift in his expression.

Confusion flickered through her. "…What are you—"

Then she followed his gaze downward.

Her face went crimson instantly.

Her arms shot up, hands flying to cover her areolas, well, the centers at least. It was impossible for her to hide all of herself; her breasts were simply too large, the soft curves spilling generously around her hands no matter how she tried to shield them.

"D-Don't look! Don't, don't look, Kafi, please don't look!" She stammered, her usual cool, imperious tone cracking entirely.

But Kafka didn't move. Didn't blink. He was still registering the sight, still locked in that mental pause.

It was only when he caught the deep flush of her cheeks, the way her breath came faster, that something clicked in him.

She was embarrassed. Really embarrassed.

The cold, untouchable Olivia, the one who'd been holding herself above him for the past hour, was suddenly shielding herself like a shy girl caught off-guard.

And in that instant, the irritation he'd carried in here twisted into something else entirely.

An opportunity.

He let the corner of his mouth lift, slow and teasing, as his gaze rose from her chest to her eyes. He knew exactly what to do now, and it didn't involve shouting at her at all.

Because in just a few seconds, the rabid dog had turned into the puppy. And he intended to make the most of it.

Kafka's smirk deepened as he closed the distance between them with slow, careful steps.

"Well now…" He murmured, voice low enough that it almost rumbled in his chest. "Was it just my eyes playing tricks on me...or did I just see something I definitely never noticed before?"

Olivia's breath caught. Her hands tightened their hold over her chest, and she instinctively stepped back.

"I-It's...the first one." She said quickly, words tumbling out in a rush. "Your eyes are playing tricks on you, Kafi. You didn't see anything unusual, nothing at all."

Her tone was forceful, but her expression gave her away; she looked like a cornered animal, lips parted, eyes darting for escape.

Kafka tilted his head, studying her. Then, softly but with complete certainty, he shook his head.

"No...no, not really." He said, voice silky but edged. "I definitely caught something, Mom. Something I never expected. Something I never even imagined would be there."

Her chest rose and fell faster.

"It was nothing." She insisted, almost tripping over her words. "You were imagining it. I'm telling you, there's nothing to hide—"

He took another step forward, and she matched it by stepping back, only to find her spine pressing flat against the wall. There was nowhere left to go.

"Oh...really?" Kafka's tone softened to a mock-relieved sigh, as if her words had placated him. "Maybe it was just my imagination…"

Her shoulders eased slightly, only for him to grin suddenly and murmur,

"But then again...better to check."

Before she could react, his hands shot up, gripping both her wrists in one swift motion. He pushed them firmly against the wall above her head, holding her there with enough force to pin her completely.

Her arms strained against his hold, but she wasn't truly fighting, just trembling, her eyes wide in disbelief as the sudden shift of her arms made her breasts drop heavily, the soft, pale flesh bouncing before settling into full view.

Her hands no longer shielded her, and the pink disks of her areolas were laid bare, their centers smooth and hollow where her nipples had drawn inward.

"Ahhh…" Kafka exhaled, lowering his head until his face hovered just over her chest. "Would you look at this…"

His breath grazed her skin, and she shivered violently, biting down on her lip.

"I thought my eyes were playing with me before." He murmured, voice tinged with amusement. "But no...here it is. Right here. My dear mother...with her nipples completely hidden away."

Her face burned crimson, and she turned her head sharply to the side, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Oh? Nothing to say?" He teased, his grip on her wrists unyielding. "You know...I've seen a lot of things before, Mom, but this...this is new. Strange, yes...but strangely inviting."

Her cheeks burned pink, and she turned her face away, lips pressed tight. "Don't...Don't say it like that…"

"Oh? And why not?" His voice curled into pure, slow taunt. "What's wrong? Afraid your son might get addicted to this little quirk of yours? Hm? Afraid I might…" His nose brushed over her areola, making her gasp. "…that I might just latch onto these flowers that haven't budded yet and never let go?"

He dragged the tip of his nose lazily in a circle over the soft swell of pink, breathing in the faint scent of her skin.

"Mmm...they're so soft." He whispered. "And these big, plump areolas...so thick and warm. Without those hard little peaks, they just...invite my mouth closer."

"Tempt me to dig them out. I could spend all day trying to coax them up...with my tongue."

She shuddered. "Kafi, s-stop—"

He ignored her, letting his lips just barely graze her.

"Even without poking out, they're...indecent. The way they sit, all swollen and hiding...it's dirty. Tempting. Makes a man want to claim them. Makes me want to bite…"

He let his teeth gently scrape along the edge of her areola, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her knees buckle. His breath was hot, his voice a rumble against her skin.

"Do you know how much filthier this makes you look? A queen with a secret...and I've found it. Just imagine how that makes me feel."

She whimpered, trying to twist away, but every movement just made her breasts sway, brushing against his lips and making her more aware of how exposed she was.

"I didn't notice it before." He went on, his tone almost conversational now. "But now...oh, Mon...now I can't unsee it."

"These...perfect, sinful little hollows. Do they come out if I lick? If I suck? Or do they stay hidden no matter what? Should I find out?"

Her breathing was ragged. "Kafi, please, don't—"

He laughed softly, deliberately rubbing his mouth over one side, the heat of him melting into her flesh.

"You're telling me to stop...but you sound so breathless. Almost like you don't want me to stop."

His tongue flicked out, a quick, wicked taste, and she jerked in his hold, a soft sound escaping before she could stop it

"Hmm!♡~ Noo!♡~".

"Ohhh…" He purred. "There it is. That little sound. You do like it."

He drew another slow curve with his tongue, pressing firmer this time, as if coaxing the nipple to rise.

"Mmm...still hiding. Shy little thing. Just like its owner pretends to be."

Her eyes darted anywhere but him, her breath coming in quick, uneven bursts now.

"K-Kafi...please...I c-can't—"

"Oh, I think you can."

He nuzzled closer, the side of his lips pressing right over where her hidden nipple sat, still sunken and protected by the softness around it.

"And the more you tell me to stop, the more I'm going to make you squirm until they come out to greet me, Mom."

Her entire body shuddered at his words, her hands flexing helplessly in his grip, her chest heaving right against his mouth, as she watched him eye her nipples or rather the absence of them like a starving man that was a given a prime rib-eye steak...