The Forsaken Son-in-Law’s Trillion-Dollar Harem

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The first pale light of morning filtered through the tall glass windows of the penthouse and found them still tangled together on the wide couch where they had eventually fallen asleep sometime after the second time Ethan had taken Mia, slow and deep, with her thick thighs wrapped around his hips and her full breasts pressed against his chest while she whispered his name like it was something she had been waiting to say for a long time. Her body was warm and soft against his in the quiet dawn, one heavy breast resting against his ribs and her leg draped possessively over his thigh, and as consciousness returned he let his hand move lazily along the smooth curve of her back and down over the generous swell of her ass, squeezing the soft flesh gently and feeling her stir with a low, sleepy sound that vibrated through her chest and straight into his.

Mia shifted closer instead of pulling away, her face nuzzling into the side of his neck as her hand slid down between them to find his cock already half-hard from the simple reality of waking up with her lush, naked body pressed so fully against him. She wrapped her fingers around him and stroked slowly, her touch unhurried and sure, and when she lifted her head to look at him her dark eyes were still heavy with sleep but already dark with the same hunger that had carried them through most of the night. The morning light caught the soft fullness of her breasts as she rose up on one elbow, the heavy curves swaying slightly with the movement, and Ethan reached up to cup one, thumb brushing over the nipple until it tightened under his touch while she continued to stroke him with that same deliberate rhythm.

“I could get used to waking up like this,” she murmured, her voice husky and warm as she leaned down to kiss him, slow and deep, her tongue sliding against his while her body shifted until she was straddling his hips again. The wet heat of her slid along the length of his cock as she rocked forward, coating him in her slickness, and when she sank down onto him in one smooth motion they both groaned at the perfect, tight fit. She stayed still for a moment, letting him feel every inch of her wrapped around him, her soft belly pressed against his, her full breasts hanging heavy and perfect above him as she braced her hands on his chest.

Ethan’s hands moved up her thighs, gripping the thick, smooth flesh and pulling her down harder onto him as she began to ride him in long, rolling movements that made her breasts bounce and sway with every downward stroke. He sat up enough to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking while his hands roamed over the generous curves of her body — the soft weight of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the full flare of her hips and the way her ass filled his palms when he gripped her and guided her rhythm. Every part of her felt like it had been made for his hands, soft and yielding and utterly unashamed in the way she moved and moaned above him, and the sight of her riding him in the morning light, her body flushed and open and completely his in that moment, pushed him toward the edge faster than he wanted.

She came first, her inner walls clenching and fluttering around him as she cried out softly and ground down hard, her thighs trembling on either side of his hips. The feeling of her pulsing around his cock dragged him over with her, and he thrust up hard, burying himself as deep as he could go while he spilled inside her again, holding her there with both hands gripping the soft, full cheeks of her ass. They stayed locked together through the aftershocks, breathing hard, her forehead resting against his and her breasts pressed warmly against his chest while the morning light slowly brightened the room around them.

Eventually Mia lifted herself off him with a soft, satisfied sound and curled against his side again, one leg still thrown over his and her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand traced lazy patterns on his chest as they both came down, and for a long while neither of them spoke. The silence was comfortable, filled only with the sound of their breathing and the distant hum of the city waking up far below. Ethan let his fingers continue their slow exploration of her body, tracing the curve of her breast, the soft roundness of her belly, the warm skin of her inner thigh, committing the shape of her to memory in a way he had never been allowed to do with anyone before.

His phone buzzed on the low table beside the couch, and this time it was Mia who reached for it without leaving the circle of his arms. She glanced at the screen and handed it to him with a small smile. “Harlan again. Probably with updates on your instructions from last night.”

Ethan answered, keeping one hand resting possessively on Mia’s hip as he listened. Harlan’s voice was as calm and professional as ever, but there was an undercurrent of satisfaction that matched the way Ethan was beginning to feel about the new shape of his life.

“The divorce papers are being prepared as requested,” Harlan said. “Clean language, generous settlement on the surface but with clear finality. Isabella received notification that you are no longer at the Lang residence and that all future communication should go through our office. Helen has been… vocal. She called the subsidiary handling the waterfront project three more times overnight. They’ve been told the review remains paused indefinitely. I thought you would want to know that the Lang family is already feeling the pressure. Their other investors are starting to ask questions.”

Ethan let the information settle while his fingers traced slow circles on Mia’s bare hip. The old life was already unraveling, and he hadn’t even left the penthouse yet. The power of it was quieter than he had expected, but no less satisfying.

“Keep the pressure exactly where it is,” he said. “No escalation yet. I want them to sit with the uncertainty for a while. And Harlan — have the jet ready this afternoon. I want to go to the Cross Tower and meet some of the key people in person. It’s time they saw who they’re working for now.”

“Understood. I’ll have everything arranged. Mia can coordinate the schedule with you.”

Ethan ended the call and set the phone aside. Mia had been listening quietly, her body still warm and relaxed against his, and when he looked down at her she met his gaze with that same steady warmth that had drawn him in from the beginning.

“You’re already changing things,” she said softly. “They can feel it even if they don’t know why yet. That’s the most dangerous kind of power — the kind that moves before anyone sees it coming.”

He kissed her again, slower this time, tasting the morning on her lips and feeling the soft, full weight of her body shift against him as she responded. The temptation to stay in the penthouse with her for the rest of the day was strong, but the new life was already calling, and he had spent too many years waiting for permission to move.

They eventually rose and showered together, the hot water streaming over their bodies as Ethan took his time washing her, his hands sliding over every curve with deliberate care. He knelt in front of her at one point and lifted one of her thick thighs over his shoulder, tasting her slowly and thoroughly while she braced herself against the tiled wall and came with his name on her lips and her fingers tangled in his hair. By the time they stepped out and dried each other off, the sun was fully up and the city was moving in earnest below them.

Mia dressed in a fresh blouse and trousers from a bag she had apparently kept at the penthouse for long nights of work, the fabric once again following the generous lines of her body in a way that made Ethan want to pull her back into bed and forget the rest of the world for another few hours. Instead he dressed in one of the new suits that had been prepared for him, the dark fabric settling over his frame with a quiet authority he was still growing into. When he caught his reflection in the mirror he looked like a different man from the one who had mopped spilled wine in the Lang mansion less than twenty-four hours earlier.

They had breakfast sent up and ate at the same table where they had shared dinner the night before, the conversation flowing easily between the business that waited for him at the tower and the quieter, more personal things that had passed between them in the dark hours. Mia didn’t ask for promises or definitions. She simply existed in the space with him, warm and present and unapologetically herself, and that was more than enough for now.

When it was time to leave, she walked with him to the private elevator that would take them down to the waiting car. Before the doors opened she turned to him, her hand resting lightly on his chest over the new suit.

“Elena Park will be at the tower this morning,” she said, her voice carrying a note of quiet awareness. “She runs the real estate division that was handling the waterfront project. She’s sharp, ambitious, and very good at what she does. She also has a reputation for not suffering fools and for noticing everything. I think you’ll like her.”

There was something in the way Mia said the name that made Ethan look at her more closely. She met his gaze without jealousy or hesitation, only that same steady warmth with a flicker of something knowing underneath.

“Should I be expecting something specific?” he asked.

Mia’s smile was small and genuine. “Just that she’s the kind of woman who will respect power when she sees it… and who might want to be close to it. Close to you. The same way I do.”

She didn’t say anything more, but the implication hung in the air between them as the elevator doors opened. Ethan stepped inside, and Mia followed, standing close enough that their shoulders brushed. The ride down was quiet, but the air between them carried the weight of what they had shared and the quiet understanding that the circle around him was only beginning to form.

When the car pulled up in front of Cross Tower, the morning sun caught the glass and steel and turned it into something sharp and commanding. People moved through the lobby with purpose, and as Ethan stepped out of the car with Mia at his side, heads turned. Whispers followed in their wake, not the mocking kind he had grown used to, but the careful, curious kind that came when power walked into a room unannounced.

Elena Park was waiting near the private elevator that led to the executive floors. She was in her early thirties, tall and striking, with warm golden skin and dark hair pulled back in a sleek twist that showed off the elegant line of her neck. Her tailored navy dress followed the full, generous curves of her body — the heavy swell of her breasts, the soft dip of her waist, the wide flare of her hips and the strong, shapely line of her legs — in a way that managed to be both professional and undeniably sensual. When she turned and saw Ethan approaching, her eyes widened for just a fraction of a second before her expression smoothed into professional respect, though something warmer lingered in her gaze as she extended her hand.

“Mr. Cross,” she said, her voice low and smooth. “Elena Park. It’s an honor to finally meet you. I’ve been looking forward to this day for longer than you probably realize.”

Her handshake was firm and warm, and she held his gaze a moment longer than strictly necessary. Up close, the dress hugged her body in a way that made it impossible not to notice the soft, full lines of her figure, and when she smiled the expression reached her eyes with a spark of genuine interest that went beyond simple professional courtesy.

Mia stood beside him, close but not possessive, and when Ethan glanced at her she gave him the smallest nod, as if to say she had been right about this woman and that she was content to watch what happened next.

Ethan returned Elena’s smile, feeling the new shape of his life settling more firmly around him with every passing moment.

“The honor is mine,” he said, and meant it. “I have a feeling we’re going to be working very closely in the days ahead.”

Elena’s eyes darkened just slightly at the words, and her full lips curved into a smile that held both professional promise and something far more personal. Behind them, the tower continued its busy rhythm, unaware that the man who now owned it all had already begun to gather the first threads of the life — and the women — he intended to keep.