Demonic Pornstar System novel Chapter 822

Chapter 822: Small-Chested But Proud!

"You absolute sluts..." she said, and it came out as admiration. "I thought we got naked to be eye-candies, not to wash him with our tits!"

"Eye-candies?" Bastet scoffed. "If Master is within arm’s reach, I want him to feel my warmth... I want him to smell like me!" she decreed, sniffing, and smiling happily because despite the water and the soap, her nostrils noted that she was starting to mark her territory, even if weakly.

"..."

Luna watched the three of them for another moment, soaped-up bodies gliding against Kaiden, and then she made the mistake of checking the chat.

— QueenBeeStinger: Luna just standing there with a towel lmaooo

— ThirstyDemon99: girl it’s okay not everyone is built for full service 😭

— CurvyGoddess: too small? 🤭

— StarryNightCrush: mission impossible for the storm gremlin 💀💀

"Hah?"

Reading those comments, every competitive instinct in Luna’s body fired at once, and her lips pressed into a line that anyone who’d ever played a game against her would’ve recognized as the last expression they saw before losing.

"Too small?" she scoffed, and the harrumph that followed could’ve rattled the dungeon walls.

She tossed the towel, grabbed the bar of soap, and looked directly into the stream.

"Internet wife," she called out as she worked the lather between her hands, then brought both palms to her chest and spread it across her petite tits in slow, confident circles that turned every inch of glistening skin into a show that had nothing to apologize for and everything to prove.

"If I give my man a good tit-washing that he enjoys without a shadow of a doubt, you time out every last one of those trash-talking bitches." Her fingers trailed soap down her sternum while her purple eyes held the camera without flinching. "Note their names down."

— KaidensWife (mod): 🫡

— CurvyGoddes: wait

— ThirstyDemon99: oh no

— StarryNightCrush: ...shit

Luna leaned her soaped-up chest against Kaiden’s arm and scrubbed with a sensuality that turned every pass of her petite frame against his skin into a competitive statement, and the grin on her face was pure earned satisfaction, until her fingers found what the grime had been hiding and the grin went quiet.

Cuts, bruising, dried blood that wasn’t ichor.

"We were at the chokehold with Scarlet and five fighters," she muttered, scrubbing slower, "and this guy went into the Mire with two people."

Her words might’ve been harsh, but her actions were anything but. She treated him with extreme and uncharacteristic tenderness.

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