Kumiko stood at the edge of the bed, hair shining like gold lacquer, body glistening with sweat and cum. Her breath was calm now, too relaxed for what she had just done. She smiled.
A shimmer pulsed beside her.
Two clones emerged from her body like liquid shadows—identical, silent, graceful. One moved to Amphitrite, who was still trembling on the sheets, flushed and twitching from overstimulation. The clone gathered her like a lover, lifting her with ease, cradling her limp limbs against a bare shoulder.
The other approached Nikita.
She flinched at the touch, her breath still shaking, her inner thighs glossy from Nikolai's fingers. But she didn't resist. The clone helped her sit up, then wrapped arms gently around her waist, pulling her into a slow bridal carry. Her head rested against the clone's neck, her eyes half-lidded.
"I'll be nearby," Kumiko whispered.
