Mikleo 2

6

“These violent delights have violent endsAnd in their triumph die, like fire and powder,Which, as they kiss, consume.”

Chapter 6 ~ Eros

“I understand it now,” she says to his sleeping form, eyes evidently red from tears and lack of sleep. “I finally get what you were trying to say.”

But it’s already too late. The damage has been done. There is no way to turn back from this now. She can only face forward and continue on, living, carrying the burden for the sin she has been committed.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you before. And now look what has happened to you.” He is still asleep, but she can just imagine what his response to her words will be.

“Silly girl. I told you so, didn’t I? Why are you crying now? Now you’ll have to carry the burden of taking another’s life. This is a consequences of your own doing,” he would say.

The real Mikleo is lying down on the hospital bed, still unconscious, of course.

It does not matter even if he was a hellion. The guilt is still there, and there is no erasing it. Mikleo must have knew that she would not have been able to handle it.

And he is right.

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault. Look at the mess I’ve made. You got hurt because of me,” she says, eyes glistening as tears threaten to fall. “And I owe you again.”

Nayla has lost count on how many times he had save her from danger at this point. But the most recent one is clearly the most she owes him. He got hurt fatally. The seraph was lucky. If it were not for his friends, his leg could have been permanently damaged. Lunarre managed to strike him right through the bones, shattering it from the inside. It was a good thing that Edna knows how to patch him up together using her powers, or else Nayla would be owing him more than just from saving her life.

“You just had to save me, didn’t you?”

“Hmmfh! It’s not like I did it for you. It was just annoying having to witness that occurring right in front of my eyes. You looked so pathetic, by the way, that I just had to save you,” he would retort back cynically.

“You’re right, and now I have to live with the consequences. Who will be friends with a monster like me now?”

. . . . .

They push the door to his bedroom rather violently, hands clenching against one another’s clothes, gripping so hard they almost tear the fabric in place. Their lips are still well connected when they stumble around, trying to find a surface to land to. Mikleo manages to push Nayla into a wall, hands reaching to the curve of her backside, while his other hand lowers down to cup the weight on her chest. The girl’s breath hitches instantly, and she opens her mouth wider to welcome him in. His tongue sweeps around the warm cavern of her mouth, brushing against her own tongue, lips devouring each other’s out.

Mikleo places a leg in between hers, praying them to open. Nayla complies almost instantly, widening her legs until he can plant his knee in the middle, pushing her even further against the wall. Her hands touch him, feeling the hard muscles of his chest and stomachs, before lowering further down until Mikleo hisses in her mouth.

“No,” he tries to push her hand off that part of him, but Nayla can be very persistent when she wants to be.

“Why not?” she asks back with an innocent look on her face, as if she has no idea what her touch is doing to him.

He glares down at her, violet orbs hard as if about to retort back with something unpleasant, but Nayla beats him to it and grabs the southern part of him, fingers enveloping the sensitive spot that is starting to grow in mass pretty soon.

“You’re playing with fire, girl,” he hisses in a low breathe, chest huffing with rapid inhales and exhales.

“What? I thought you’re supposed to be water, not flame?” she smiles up at him in triumph, tightening her hold around his massively growing length. He is all hard and stiff under her hold now, and Mikleo looks positively livid.

“Don’t test me.” She fumbles her fingers, feeling the rigid girth until she can estimate how long he has become. He curses this time, hips bucking into her hand in instinct. Her heartbeat speeds up in rapid increase, anticipating of what is to come.

“Having a little problem there, Mikleo?” she asks teasingly at the way he struggles with the large tent in his pants, stertorous.

“You know that there is nothing little about it,” he says, recalling they way his c**k had previously lodged itself in between her asscheeks, causing the girl to blush also.

Nayla gotta say, his size is really impressive. She wonders what they will look like when bare, how they will feel when being pushed into her so deeply inside. Nayla licks her bottom lip at the thought.

The motion is not missed by Miklo's hardened eyes. He looks blanched, self control thinning out pretty quickly. He likes the way her tongue rolls across her bottom lips. He has tasted her, but he is far from being over with her. The more he has a taste of her sweet delicate flavor, the more he is thirsty of her mouth. But that is not all. He also wants to do things with her. Wicked, terrible things.

All of a sudden, his eyes gleam dangerously at her, and Nayla knows that she is in deep trouble now.

“Fine, be that way,” he says through gritted teeth. He lifts her up abruptly, hands hooking her up under the knees, before pressing his lower half against her stomach so that she can feel exactly how hard he has become for her.

Mikleo brushes his thumbs over her upper thighs, eyes staring at the fair, creamy skin exposed from the space in between her shorts and stockings. They are in the way. They have to go.

With both legs hooked up and raised from the floor, Nayla struggles to maintain her balance. Her hands clench to the fabrics of his shirt harder, while the girl moves to wrap her legs around his waist in reflex. With this new position, Mikleo is able to press his erection into her. The massive size clings from the mid of her stomach, all the way down to where she starts growing wet.

Nayla squirms from the contact, not expected to feel this much of him. Nerves attack her abruptly, and Nayla has no idea where to avert her gaze. Mikleo makes the decision for her by using one hand to lift her chin, before the lowers his hand, down past her neck and right breast, going through her slender waist and leg, raising it slightly for a better access, before starting to remove her boots.

The objects plops on the floor behind him, as if it has offended him. The stocking goes next. He grabs the top of it, fingertips brushing against soft skin before he rolls it off from her leg. Mikleo does the same thing to her other leg, pulling the objects slowly while looking up into her eyes heatedly. The pace only makes her breathing speeds up, her chest tightening at the feeling of anticipation slowly hammers her insides and makes her stomach drops. What is he going to take off next?

Instead of going to one of hers, he tucks at his shirt, unbuttoning it one by one, each button revealing another inch of his perfectly crafted chest and muscled abodements. Nayla can not help the urge to touch him, to feel his skin underneath her palms. So she does.

The girl places one arm over the side of his chest nonchalantly, as if afraid of what he will do to her if she does so. Mikleo simply watches her studying his body, hands brush against his chest, a finger accidentally brushing against his n****e, causing him to shiver and his hardness to jolt against her core.

Nayla lets out a shaky breath, the place where her part is connected to him (even despites the many layers of clothes they are still wearing) release more droplets of her juice, making her core slick with wetness. She wants nothing more than to press her legs together, but it is impossible since he has her legs parted so wide with him in between, and so she is left with no other choice than to feel more slickness slip through her core, soaking her panties.

Mikleo notices the change within her, but does nothing than urging her to touch him more. He likes the way her hands feel on his body. Everywhere her body connects with him, it lights up fire on his skin, even through the fabrics.

The brunette lowers her hand, palm following every curve of muscles of his taut pecs. Mikleo has a six pec, no surprise there considering what he normally does, battling with hellions and purifying the evil, using plenty of staff and body movements.

Speaking about staffs.

Nayla instinctively pressed her thighs together, causing Mikleo's body to be pressed into her deeper. His length brushes against something sensitive inside her — her bead of pleasure. It makes her wet her panties even more, and she whimpers from the sudden lost of control.

From the sound of her mewling pleasure, Mikleo grows even harder, it is practically painful. But he likes the sound she makes, so he moves his hips into her once again, drawing out more lewd noises to come through her rosy pink lips. He makes sure to graze against that sweet spot on her, making Nayla cries out in pleasure.

“N—no . . . No more,” she pleads, her eyes glassy and her tongue rolls out, her body oozing off with steam.

“What was that? I can’t quite hear you,” this time, it is Miklo's turn to be oblivious. And with that, he rolls his hips into her once more, driving his length into her core, gazing against her sensitive bead.

Her underwear is so damp at this point that it clings into her achingly. She wants nothing more than to have the layers on her to be removed, but her pride does not allow herself to be succumbed this easily.

“S-stop . . . M-mikle—o . . . Aaahh!!” He pressed his erection into her core in a particular angle that drives her so wild, her stomach lurches and wetness erupts from in between her legs. Wetness pour out from her core so much that this time, not only her panties are wet, but her shorts too. Her clothes are so damp, she is leaving stains on the front of his pants also.

It seems like she has less control than they both think.

“I’m sorry—”

“That’s alright.” He lowers her down gently, before carrying her bridal style to the bed. Mikleo places himself back to in between her legs, kneeling on top of her. He plants kisses all over her neck and shoulders and he undoes her top. “You must he exhausted. Let me help you.”

He proceeds to undoing her mantel, before pulling her top over her head, exposing her pebbled n*****s to Mikleo's ferocious gaze, her necklace dropping to her cleavage as he pulls the material over her head. Nayla lets out a gasp as the cool air hits her heated body.

They are both breathing heavily at this point. Anything can happen, and they will not be able to stop it once it has started. Mikleo eyes this girl who is down underneath him, heaving ever so beautifully, so ready for him.

But then he remembers just how vulnerable she was a mere moments ago (for what had left like such a long time ago before they started all of this in the middle of the hallway, just outside his bedchamber), how helpless and wounded she is — not just physically, but also emotionally. He will be taking advantage of her situation if he decides to proceed with this, and he does not want to commit such a despicable thing. So Mikleo decides to do the right thing. He places a couple more kisses on her skin, before gradually pulls away.

She looks at him in confusing, having had expected him to touch her more. Lower. Deeper. She needs him, desperately.

[ End of Book 2 ]