Bathing with Naia

Eren stood in the bathing chamber, steam rising around him as he shed his sweat-dampened training clothes. It had been another long day of drills and sparring under Naia's watchful eye, pushing his body to its limits and beyond. But despite the aches and pains, there was a sense of accomplishment—a feeling that he was honing his skills, his place in this world.

As he reached for a washcloth, the door to the chamber slid open. Eren turned, expecting to see a servant with fresh towels or perhaps Lyra come to check on their progress. Instead, he found himself face to face with Naia.

"Thought I'd join you," his sister said with a grin, her eyes twinkling mischievously. She had already shed her own clothes, leaving her bare except for a towel draped over one arm. "Race you to the bath."

Before Eren could protest, Naia dropped her towel and darted past him, all lean muscle and glistening skin. Eren's mouth went dry, his gaze snagging on the curve of her ass, the swing of her breasts. He knew he should look away, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes from the vision of his sister's body.

'What is wrong with me?' he thought frantically, even as his own arousal stirred to life. 'She's my sister. I shouldn't be looking at her like this.'

But as Naia slid into the steaming water with a sigh of pleasure, Eren found himself unable to resist following her. He moved slowly, almost mechanically, his eyes fixed on the water cascading down Naia's skin as she submerged herself.

As he slipped into the bath opposite her, Naia reached for a washcloth and soap. "Here," she said, holding them out to him. "Let me."

Eren hesitated only a moment before accepting, his fingers brushing against hers. The contact sent a jolt through him, and he watched, transfixed, as Naia lathered the cloth and began to scrub his back.

Her touch was firm but gentle, her hands moving over his skin with a familiarity that should have been comforting. But Eren felt anything but comfort—his nerve endings sparked with sensation at every brush of her fingers.

'This isn't right,' he thought desperately, even as he arched into her touch like a cat. 'She thinks I'm a female. She doesn't know the truth.'

And yet, as Naia's hands moved lower, massaging the taut muscles of his hips and thighs, Eren couldn't bring himself to stop her. He wanted her touch—needed it in a way that went beyond the ache of his muscles.

When Naia's fingers brushed against his inner thigh, Eren bit back a groan. His arousal was growing impossible to ignore, pressing insistently against the water.

'She's going to notice,' he thought wildly. 'She'll know I'm not who she thinks I am.'

But Naia seemed oblivious, her hands continuing their path down his leg. Eren knew he should warn her, should tell her the truth before things went too far. But as her fingers grazed the sensitive skin behind his knee, he found himself arching into her touch instead.

'Later,' he promised himself, even as his resolve crumbled. 'I'll tell her later. After this.'

When Naia finished scrubbing his back, she handed him the washcloth with a smile. "Your turn now."

Eren accepted it with shaking hands, his heart pounding in his ears. He knew he should refuse—should put an end to this before it went too far. But as Naia turned, presenting her back to him, Eren found himself unable to resist.

He started at her neck, his touch tentative at first before growing bolder as Naia sighed in pleasure. His hands slid down her spine, fingers digging into the knots of muscle. When he reached the small of her back, he hesitated, his breath coming fast and shallow.

'She won't know,' he told himself, even as his pulse raced. 'Just be careful.'

Eren's hands slid lower, cupping the firm globes of Naia's ass. He heard her sharp intake of breath, felt the tension in her body. For a moment, he was sure she would pull away, would realize the truth of his gender.

But then Naia arched into his touch, a low moan escaping her lips. Emboldened, Eren let his fingers slip between her legs, stroking the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs.

"Eren," Naia gasped, her voice thick with need. "What are you—"

Eren swallowed hard, his own desire consuming him. "Shh," he murmured, his fingers growing bolder. "Let me take care of you sister."

Naia's response was lost in a breathy moan as Eren found her slick heat, stroking through her folds. She was so wet, so ready for him. It would be so easy to slide inside her, to claim her as his own.

But even in the haze of his lust, Eren knew he couldn't—not like this, not without telling her the truth first. So he contented himself with pleasuring her, his fingers working her clit and dipping into her tight channel.

Naia writhed against him, her hips bucking into his touch. Eren held her steady, his other hand gripping her hip as he drove her closer to the edge. When she came with a sharp cry, her body convulsing around his fingers, Eren felt a surge of triumph.

'This is just the beginning,' he thought, his own arousal throbbing painfully. 'Soon, I'll have all of her.'

As Naia slumped against him, boneless and sated, Eren knew he had crossed a line from which there was no return. His sister, his world—he would have them both, consequences be damned.

As Naia slumped against Eren, boneless and sated, he continued to gently stroke her, his fingers slipping through her slick folds. She felt so good, so perfect in his arms.

"Eren," she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure. "You're quite good at bathing."

Eren smiled, a surge of masculine pride coursing through him. "You make an excellent subject," he replied, his voice low and husky.

Naia shifted in his arms, turning to face him. As she did, her hand brushed against something hard and throbbing between his legs. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw it.

Naia gasped as her fingers brushed against Eren's throbbing dick, her eyes flying wide in shock. "Is that...is that a head?" she stammered, staring at the unfamiliar appendage in disbelief. "Eren, what is going on? Why do you have..."