As the moon cast a silvery glow over the palace, Lyria felt a rush of emotions as she undressed. She stood in front of the mirror, her heart racing, nerves dancing through her as she caught a glimpse of herself,her bare skin shimmering in the dim light. Embarrassment washed over her as she turned away, hastily covering her breasts with one arm and her vagina with the other, a mixture of vulnerability and defiance coursing through her veins. She slipped into bed, the sheets cool against her warm skin, but her mind was anything but calm.
Mike, equally exposed, climbed into the bed beside her. His breath caught in his throat as he glanced at her. "You must be pretty happy, fucking a virgin and a princess like me," she said, a smirk playing on her lips. Lyria turned her head away, feeling shy.
Mike, still hiding his embarrassment, stammered, "I... I..." The words faltered on his lips, his confidence shaken.
"Oh, I forgot. You're also a fucking virgin," Lyria teased, a wicked smile creeping across her face. "Don't cum immediately—at least try hard to satisfy me." With that, she slammed her legs onto the bed, the movement bold and inviting.
Mike's patience waned as her teasing fueled his desire. He caught her legs, spreading them apart, his heart pounding in his chest. Without another thought, he plunged inside her, the sensation overwhelming him.
"Ahhhhhhh… You fucking bastard, that hurt," Lyria cried out, scratching the bedsheet as pain coursed through her. Blood stained the fabric beneath them, a raw reminder of their uncharted territory.
"Hey, bastard...… Don't move forward a bit," she gasped, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to shake off the pain. A minute passed in silence, the air thick with tension, until Lyria finally dared to look at Mike. He was forcing his eyes closed, concentrating hard, clearly torn between pleasure and restraint.
Lyria gave a knowing grin. "You idiot, I knew it. A virgin like you only talks big, no action." To tease him further, she shifted her body, her movements gentle yet provocative.
Mike's eyes flew open, desperation flooding his features as he struggled against the impending climax. "This bitch, she knows my position. I think I talked big; I shouldn't have challenged her like that. Shit, if she moves a little more, I will ejaculate."
Desperate to hold on, Mike recalled the early days of his masturbation, how quickly he would reach climax before he learned to control himself. With every breath, he focused on that memory, the discipline he had built. After a moment of cool down, he slowly pulled out, hoping to regain some semblance of control.
Lyria, impatient now, realized that her previous experiences of self pleasure could never match this newfound intimacy. She craved satisfaction, wanting to explore every facet of their connection. Sitting beside Mike, who was still in his recovery phase, she began to tease him, her fingers lightly tracing his chest as she leaned in, whispering in his ear.
"Why don't you give up? Just be my slave," she suggested playfully, her tongue flicking against his earlobe, igniting a fire within him.
Suddenly, without warning, Mike pushed Lyria down, shoving his dick back inside her pussy. A soft moan escaped her lips, and as he moved in and out, the rhythm began to build. After a few strokes, he pulled out, allowing just a few seconds of respite before plunging in again. This dance of pleasure and pause continued, the air around them thick with desire.
Lyria was drowning in her heat, desperation clawing at her as she sought only satisfaction. Mike, grinning with newfound confidence, reveled in the knowledge that he could last longer now, having trained himself to hold off the inevitable.
"Why are you laughing? Don't tell me you're ready to give up," she challenged, her leg brushing against him provocatively.
He caught her leg, his gaze filled with determination. "Hey, what's that look?" Lyria teased, a nervous smile creeping across her face as she tried to retreat, but Mike had other plans.
"You were making fun of me a while ago; why are you falling back?" He pulled her by her legs, locking her hands with his right hand, asserting dominance.
"Wait...… wait a minute, let me get ready first…" Lyria felt a thrill race down her spine, excitement mixing with nerves as she braced herself.
This time, Mike entered her slowly, savoring the moment. He continued with a steady pace, each thrust gentle yet purposeful, igniting a symphony of moans from Lyria.
"Ahhh...… wait...…" Her voice was a melody of pleasure, echoing through the room, filling the space with raw desire. Mike's excitement grew with each sound she made.
"Don't tell me you're about to cum, Miss Lyria," he teased, lowering his mouth to suckle her breasts.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, you damn brat; you're a hundred years early to make me cum," she gasped, her voice cracking from pleasure as he teased her further.
"Is that so? Let's see how long you can keep that attitude." Mike's left hand found its way to her clitoris, deftly working it as he picked up the pace. The room echoed with the sound of their bodies meeting, punctuated by Lyria's escalating moans.
"Wait...… stop! If you don't, I will…..." Lyria's body reacted to the overwhelming pleasure, and she began to squirt, the sensation both shocking and exhilarating.
Mike halted, pulling back slightly, his eyes wide with disbelief. Lyria's expression transformed; the sheer intensity of her release was something he had never witnessed before. "So, this is a woman's version of ejaculation. Damn, I never thought I'd see something like this in real life," he mused, captivated by the moment.
Embarrassed, Lyria buried her face in the bedsheet, hiding her blush.
"Are you satisfied? Now let's stop and make it a draw," she whispered, her voice weak and exhausted.
"What are you talking about? I'm not satisfied; I haven't ejaculated yet." Mike tugged the bedsheet, exposing her flushed face.
"Wait, you idiot. Let me rest for a while; I'm sensitive," she protested, trying to cover her face with her hands, but Mike had other intentions. He pulled her hands away, turning her to face the bed, exposing her hips to him.
"Wait, don't tell me...…" Lyria gasped, her voice rising again as he resumed his movements, this time more fervently. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, echoing their heated exchanges.
As the tempo increased, Mike felt the familiar tension building in his core. "Crap, I must pull out. Damn, this is hard; I can't stop," he groaned, struggling against the overwhelming urge to let go.
Suddenly, Lyria sensed his emotions through her magic, her intuition guiding her. "Fuck, what's going on? I can't pull my dick out; crap…...." Mike lost control, ejaculating inside Lyria's virgin body. They both collapsed, the weight of their actions settling around them.
The bed became a canvas of their substance and Lyria's blood, a stark reminder of their encounter. After a moment of recovery, Lyria glanced at Mike, a sly grin on her lips.
"Wait, you tricked me," Mike said, realization dawning.
"It's our first time. I wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. Get ready to take responsibility. If you don't....…" Lyria leaned closer, lifting his chin with a teasing smirk.
"Damn you, bitch!" Mike broke into a cold sweat, the reality of their situation hitting him.
"Fine, I am your slave, but use your magic to prevent pregnancy...… Please, I don't want to die," he begged, a mix of humor and fear lacing his words.
Lyria sauntered toward the washroom, her hips swaying provocatively. "I will think about it," she teased, leaving him to ponder the night's events.
"Fuck, I screwed up," Mike sighed, collapsing back onto the bed, the weight of his actions settling in as the night continued to unfold.
As the night continued, Lyria and Elara would eventually confront each other, their emotions raw and honest. Elara, breaking down in front of Lyria, expressed her feelings about Mike and her confusion about where she stood.
"Why can't we both love him?" Elara asked tearfully. "You can't say no, or are you going to deny me?"
"Lyria, I..." Lyria turned her face aside.
"So, you're saying it's fine as long as it's Ayesha, Nyss, or Astrid, but not me? Do you hate me that much?" Elara asked her directly.
Lyria, torn between her own jealousy and her loyalty to her cousin, hesitated. But in the end, both girls shared a vulnerable moment, their bond growing even stronger despite the tension between them.
Outside the palace, the shadow of the missing children loomed large. A cave hidden in the mountains oozed with an eerie silence, blood trailing from its mouth—a stark contrast to the warmth of the palace. The mystery was far from over.