Extra's Life: MILFs Won't Leave the Incubus Alone-Chapter 206: Our Frustration

The Saintess had been here for a week.

A whole week. No... more than a week.

It was supposed to be a polite religious visit—an inspection of the southern diocese, a smile for the nobles, a blessing for the Leonidus lands. Aiden had even reassured the mansion that she would stay only a day or two.

But one thing led to another.

And now the holiest woman in the kingdom was sleeping under the same roof as a man pretending to be her sacred Prophet.

Aiden had to keep up the Lucifer persona longer than he ever intended. It meant long hours of scripture talk, political maneuvering, and divine posturing.

It meant he couldn’t slip back into the soft beds of the Leonidus women—not once—not even to calm them down.

And the women were not taking it well.

Inside the Leonidus mansion’s moonlit tea hall, seven women sat gathered around a polished obsidian table. The night was windless; even the chandeliers did not sway, as if the air itself feared the tension brewing between them.

Catherine, the viscountess, tapped a finger against her cup, nails clicking like quiet threats.

Sabrina, the duchess, sat with her arms crossed, looking like she was moments away from biting someone.

Flora and Luna—their daughters—sat stiffly, trying to pretend they weren’t also fuming, though both wore identical expressions of barely-contained irritation.

Eve, the green-haired countess, lounged on a pillow, eyes lidded but sharp.

Tanya and Akidna sat near the far end, whispering occasionally, their frustrations simmering beneath their calm exteriors.

Someone’s perfume drifted—lavender, then rose, then something sweeter. The room smelled like frustrated women and luxury.

It looked like an assassination meeting.

And in some ways... it was.

Catherine finally broke the silence.

"He is avoiding us."

The room erupted—not loudly, but with the heated sharpness of multiple women exhaling in unison.

Sabrina clicked her tongue. "Avoiding? No. He’s hiding behind the fucking Saintess."

Flora muttered, "The Saintess is pretty, sure, but she’s all... holy. Does he like that type now?"

Luna pressed her lips together. "We were virgins too—until he came along." She flushed. "He didn’t avoid us then."

Eve snorted, brushing emerald hair behind her ear. "Maybe he thinks purity tastes sweeter when it’s sanctioned by the gods."

Catherine gave a tired sigh. "Or maybe he likes the thrill. The forbidden fruit of a woman so pure even touching her robe is considered a blessing."

At that, Sabrina leaned forward. "He’s a sadist. He always enjoys ruining something he’s not supposed to ruin."

Tanya, usually quiet, let out a flat, unimpressed breath.

"It’s the Saintess’s fault."

They all looked her way.

Tanya continued, "He’s trying to get under her. But he can’t. She’s the Saintess. Even if she’s flustered around him, he can’t... you know... do anything. Not while she’s still uncertain."

Akidna nodded. "So he stays by her side, waiting. Testing. Pushing a little more each day."

Sabrina slammed her cup down.

"What about us? Did he forget we exist? We’ve been preparing everything for him—everything he asked for!"

She wasn’t wrong.

Over the past days, the mansion had gathered resources, arranged contacts, and even laid the foundation stones for the guild Aiden swore to build. Papers, logistics, materials—everything he needed was within reach.

And he hadn’t even shown up to look at it.

Flora curled her hand into a fist.

"I even called Amber to ask what he was doing..."

The room grew still.

Eve raised a brow. "And?"

Flora’s face darkened.

"Amber came to visit. She looked—disheveled. Sweaty. Red-faced." Flora swallowed. "And she smelled like him. Completely."

Luna groaned, covering her face. "That idiot priestess got to taste him again before we did."

Sabrina looked moments away from marching to the monastery herself.

"So he’s ignoring us for the Saintess... but still sleeping with Amber and all the nuns on the side?"

Tanya clicked her tongue. "Typical Aiden. One moment he’s changing the world, taking over churches and inquisitions... the next moment he’s ruining abbesses because he’s stressed...."

Catherine rubbed her temples.

"This cannot continue. If he keeps this up, the guild foundation will be delayed, the nobles will get suspicious, and we—" she gestured around the room, "—will lose our patience."

Akidna exhaled sharply. "Already lost it."

Silence lingered again.

Heavy.

Thick.

Frustrated.

Their emotions swirled like storm clouds—irritation, longing, jealousy, possessiveness, the slow burn of being forgotten by the one man who had taken them so violently into his orbit.

Finally, Sabrina straightened.

"I have an idea."

Seven heads turned toward her.

Sabrina’s lips curled.

"Let’s invite the Saintess here..."

The room blinked.

Luna leaned forward. "Mother... what?"

"Invite her," Sabrina repeated. "If she comes to the palace, then he will come. Prophet Lucifer cannot ignore the Saintess’s summons."

Catherine’s eyes lit up. "Which means he’ll finally step foot back in the mansion."

"And then," Eve purred, "we can deal with him."

Flora grinned wickedly. "We can punish him for running away."

Luna added, "Or drag him to the nearest bed."

Akidna hummed. "Preferably both."

Tanya shrugged. "I just want to smack him."

Sabrina laughed—a beautifully dark laugh that carried through the hall like velvet-coated threat.

"So it’s settled. The Saintess will be invited."

"And Aiden," Catherine whispered, "will have no choice but to follow."

Around the room, smiles bloomed—feral, eager, dangerous.

For the first time in a week, the mansion felt alive.

Like wolves preparing for the long-awaited return of their wayward mate.

They clinked their cups together.

Planning.

Plotting.

Sabrina wasn’t usually the type to initiate schemes involving holy women. But Aiden had pushed her patience into a corner, and when Sabrina’s patience ran out, cleverness took its place.

She tapped her nails against her cup again. This time not in irritation, but calculation.

"We’ll send a formal letter," she said. "On Leonidus stationery. Written with all proper decorum. That way, the Saintess won’t refuse."

Catherine smirked. "And she won’t suspect we’re doing this because her presence has stolen our prophet."

Flora tilted her head, expression sharpening. "Do you think she’ll be naïve enough to come alone?"

Eve laughed softly. "Saintesses are always naïve. That’s their whole job."

Tanya blinked. "I thought their job was to bless crops and cure plagues."

"Same thing," Eve replied dryly. "Optimistic, forgiving, too trusting. Perfect target."

But as the women discussed the plan, a small tension threaded beneath their voices—one that none fully acknowledged but each felt.

Aiden wasn’t just a man they wanted in their beds. Fucking them senseless, pouring his cum inside their womb again and again...

He was the center of something larger, darker, and far more unstable.

He was building networks, toppling religious hierarchies, manipulating inquisitors, charming saints, seducing abbesses. All while crafting plans none of them fully saw yet.

His actions could shift political winds.

Start wars.

Break nations.

And the women gathered in this hall knew it better than anyone.

Which was why, despite their personal frustrations, there was another undercurrent in the room:

Fear.

Not fear of him—but fear of what he might become without them at his side.

Catherine’s fingers curled around her teacup, the porcelain warm against her palms. She remembered a time—months ago—when Aiden arrived in her home half-starved, clothes torn, eyes filled with a feral desperation for survival.

He had been dangerous then, yes.

But human.

Now?

Now he was something else. Something growing. Something consuming. A mind sharper than blades and a charm thicker than incense. She wondered—just quietly, just once—whether they could still keep up with him.

Across the room, Luna shifted restlessly. She clasped her hands under the table, squeezing tight. Heat coiled in her stomach, mixed with jealousy she tried to ignore. Aiden hadn’t seen her in a week. A whole week. She’d lain awake three nights in a row, every creak of the floorboards making her hope he’d returned.

Flora chewed her lip, the imprint of Aiden’s absence still clawing at her. Every day she’d passed Amber’s lingering scent in the corridors, and it made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to admit she wanted him more now that she couldn’t have him.

Tanya rubbed her thumbs together. She wasn’t the emotional type, but even she felt the hollow ache of being overlooked. Aiden relied on her strength, trusted her competence, yet the moment something holier appeared, he vanished like smoke.

Akidna sighed quietly. It wasn’t even lust for her. It was loyalty. He’d saved her life—twice. And she wanted to be useful, dependable. It felt wrong that she hadn’t been able to assist him this week.

Eve... Eve simply smiled. She trusted time. Aiden always returned to the green he liked most. But even she felt the disturbance of being dethroned for seven whole days.

The silence in the room deepened as these thoughts simmered.

Then Sabrina broke it with a sharp inhale.

"No...we will not just invite her....We’ll host a banquet for her."

Luna perked up. "A banquet?"

"Yes. Something formal. Elegant. Impossible to decline." Sabrina tapped her chin. "The Saintess cannot refuse hospitality when offered in good faith. And once we have her here..."

Catherine nodded slowly, following the train of thought. "Aiden will appear immediately. He will not let the Saintess walk alone into a political den."

Eve’s grin widened. "Exactly. He’ll reveal himself. And when he does..."

Flora made a cracking motion with her hands.

"Punishment."

Akidna added, voice flat, "Or at least interrogation."

Tanya rolled her neck. "I just want him to explain himself."

They all snorted at that.

Because Aiden?

Explain himself?

He never did.

Sabrina sighed and rose from her chair. The silk of her dress shifted with a quiet whisper, brushing against her legs. She walked to the large window at the edge of the room. Moonlight painted her hair silver-blue as she stared out over the sleeping Leonidus manor grounds.

The world outside was still. Peaceful. Even the guards looked bored.

Sabrina clenched her jaw.

"He is changing things. More than we know. And he’s doing it alone." Her voice was quiet, but it struck the room like a hammer. "He’s keeping secrets. Important ones. Dangerous ones."

Catherine’s brows furrowed. "We know he is. But that is not new."

"This time is different," Sabrina pressed. "He’s pushing himself into every religious structure in the kingdom. The Saintess. The abbess. The inquisitors. Who knows who else? And he hasn’t trusted us enough to share the reason."

Flora swallowed. "Are we... losing him?"

Eve rolled her eyes slightly, but her tone softened. "No. We’re not losing him." A beat. "But we are letting him run without a leash."

Luna’s fingers trembled a little. "He doesn’t need a leash..."

Sabrina turned from the window, eyes piercing.

"Yes. He does."

The room stilled.

Her words echoed, heavy and final.

Not a leash to control him—but a tether to keep him grounded. Aiden had many strengths, but he was reckless when he believed he stood alone. The women knew this. They had seen his self-destructive streak more than once.

Catherine stood next, smoothing her skirt. "Then let us bring him home."

Eve hummed. "And remind him he isn’t the only one allowed to scheme."

Tanya cracked her knuckles. "We should write the letter tonight."

Flora and Luna exchanged looks before saying in unison:

"Let’s do it. Banquet it is..."

A wave of determination washed through the hall—a shared decision forming like the tightening of a net.

They sat again, leaning in. Pen, ink, parchment were brought out.

The scratching of quills filled the room, blending with their murmured debate:

"What greeting will she expect?"

"Something neutral."

"No, something respectful."

"She is the Saintess—don’t risk offending her."

"Should we hint urgency?"

"No—formality. Always formality."

"Aiden will come if she comes."

"Yes. He always comes for her."

Their shoulders brushed, their heads bent together—seven women united not only by desire, but by a rare, fierce protectiveness.

For Aiden.

Against Aiden.

It was complicated.

And it was theirs.

As the final stroke of ink dried, Catherine lifted the parchment.

"Done."

The letter shimmered in the lamplight—polished, harmless, perfect.

But beneath the polite words rested the subtle sharpness of a trap.

Not for the Saintess.

But for the man who would follow her.

Outside, night clouds passed over the moon. Shadows shifted across the window panes, dipping the room into darkness for a heartbeat.

A symbolic echo.

A reminder.

Aiden’s shadow stretched far.

But theirs could stretch too.

The women exchanged slow, knowing smiles as the clouds moved on and the moonlight returned.

"Send it at dawn," Sabrina whispered.

"Yes," Catherine agreed.