Note:

Flashbacks and thoughts in italics

Thoughts in the flashbacks are in plain text

I do not condone or encourage any behaviors in this story. It is simply a fictional story.

CHAPTER 8

rose is just another flower

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Her digits ached to map the defined contours of his cheekbones and the stubble lining his jawline. The fanzines gushed about wizards in Fairy Tail with a work-of-art physique. They claimed that these mages were—without a second glance—evidently hot. While she had only heard, and never checked out before (she was hung up on her unhealthy fixation with Gray Fullbuster), Juvia gets it now. She asked herself: why? Her eyes weren't sharp enough to notice Lucy's celestial spirit? Was it because she felt like he belonged to someone else? But it's not like he's her boyfriend. The only way Loke is hers is through the key.

Yet after observing him, she can't help but appreciate. Loke Regulus may not be the definition of ripped, but he definitely stands out. Before this guy, she thought she disliked warm colors. There's nothing wrong with telling this trifling matter, but she did not have the strength to recite her thoughts to him, or give away herself like that.

The tip of his pinky trailed down the dip of her backline to stop at the sash that held up her wrap-around skirt, the maxi under which her legs hid. He brushed aside a couple of blue strands that fell over her cheek and gave her a smacker on the collarbone. Why must she deny when he came to her like something natural? In the ocean of her consciousness, it felt like she heard something akin to a caterwaul, waning apace.

Tugging at the knot, Loke glanced at her eyes. One look had him sink into fathoms deep of the ocean. He smiled.

Nonetheless, her inky gaze reminded him of epistles and quills and late-night letters, the antique. He bit his lower lip, pulling the sash off abruptly, forcing her to clutch onto his shoulders for balance. Her teeth grazed his neck to leave a puff of air, a minty cold to linger on his skin. As their legs bumped and touched, Loke found her softness. Her skin was hot. Her skirt, soon forgotten, dropped along with the sash to the ground.

A fresh scent of rain had beckoned him to devour her whole. He has no reason to deny ecstasy. Pulling and messing it up by and by, her fingers held his hair in a tight grip. Loke busied himself with slipping her top over her head. It would be an understatement to say that what he saw beneath excited him. It's simple: green, cotton bra—her buds poking over the fabric, deliciously, the sight of which made his fingers move to caress. He wanted her to know what her sensual presence did to him. So, when his erection pressed against her hips, almost painfully, his pupils dilated at the satisfying "O" her lips formed. Why, again, did he turn a blind eye to the water mage all along? "I want to make love." His breathing sped up. Did he just blurt that?

Before she could come up with her retort, her bra was unclipped, thrown off. Loke leaned in, his face was suddenly much closer than it had been. Taunting, his hot breath hit her as his lips parted inches away from her areolas. "Use your voice, Juvia. No one's going to hear us here in the forest. Don't be shy." He chuckled!

While she lifted her head with a gasp, with the passion of an artist, he marked her skin. She drove him insane like a man in love. Gently, bathing her in crimson love, he kissed the peach peaks of her bosom. "When was the last time you thought of Gray?" What an odd question. His lips closed around her right tit. Wet sucking filled the air.

Her breath hitched, snitching a whimper out her lips. She risked biting down the sounds until she couldn't hold them anymore. He had warned her. No matter the efforts, like the water pouring from a busted dam, mewls and moans streamed through her mouth. Unlike her, Loke was prepared, provided the smug look on his face. Afterall, he believed himself to be equipped with skills, honed over years. Before he captures her lips the second time, between feverish pants, she answered him: "Before you kissed me... You freaked me out, you know."

At once, Loke's wonder burgeoned into full-fledged laughter. "Ha..., I took you for a minx. But it seems like I'm wrong." Sounding condescending, Loke lowered his glasses down the bridge of his nose for a second. "Now, jokes aside, are you afraid of sex, Juvia?" Afraid? Who is he kidding? His palms massaged just above her hips, one of his long thumbs slipping inside the edge of her panties, tracing its smooth hem. The cheeky briefs allowed him to squeeze her ass. His hazel orbs whispered racy things. From the kindling lust that wafted from him, tingles tremored past her spine. They were firm. He dug his fingers in, getting surprised at her hands going to his nipples. Reckoned to plant a red hot hickey on her ass cheek, he inquired: "Am I going to be your first?"

"So many questions. Juvia is not a virgin." Loke sensed the shadow of a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. Jealousy. No doubt this was weird. His pride is to blame. Pride and wisdom. Distinctly for the reason that it's been forever, he sensed it right away. He wanted to ask who and when her first had been. But controlled his instincts. Heavens, he is not in his teens. After three seconds, he decides to screw that shit. No more wasting time.

She felt his horny smile on her lips, shuddering when his fingers pinched her ass. There was an unanticipated rave as they slid across her waist to draw circles over her sternum. She caught his hand, placing in over her breasts. "Don't tickle me. I'll hate you."

Cackling, he bit her chest playfully.

Years and years of yearning didn't take her anywhere. Platonic forever, Gruvia. Coincidental, Gray. How wrong was she to take their friendship for granted? By loving him, by caring for him, by comforting him, by looking after him. By doing things he never asked? By fixating on him! By obsessing on him! Selfish. Selfish. Selfish. Sick. "Tell me that you were not drunk when we argued, that Loke was making a show of it. Huuhh." She changed the topic. "I want to hear that. Guess why?"

Loke pressed his knees between her thighs, up to her groin, and shook his head at her. He didn't know the hours that ticked away nor the date, didn't know how and where. Her tresses smelt ambrosial. All he knew, all he felt, was her. He grinned, pleased. He was instantly reminded of pine trees, with a floral undertone. "Because you're confusing me. You dared to get Juvia in trouble; made me feel things I don't want to feel." She huffed as he grinded into her. "And because I want you to hurt me for the mistakes I made. For the things did."

Juvia wants to be angry at you. She's not supposed to like what Loke is doing to her.

"This shouldn't feel this good!" It doesn't make sense.

Loke's laughter boomed. "That's the point of it all. You like it. Don't you? You like getting all hot and sweating beneath me." It's decided, he has got mind-reading skills.

"Yes. Yes. Fuck me."

The image of Juvia, naked beneath his body and bending in an erotic rumba against his sheets, had his cock hardening in the raunchiest of thoughts. "If you're still too indignant and proud to express how much you're liking this. I could care less, Juvia. Because you don't necessarily have to spell it out in words."

"Eloquent much." Juvia smirked.

Loke was surprised at his own words not because they were cocky but because they were long and fine like silk. Is it true that we aren't that drunk? Since my words are not slurring? Why did everything else before him slightly—just slightly—blurred, except this woman and her delicious body? Why did his body feel lighter, happier? He had her consent?!

Loke seemed to himself like he had when he had been an adolescent and initially exploring the delights of the female body before the satisfaction of sensuality had wilted, gone somewhere withered, beyond the many years of his immortal life. He cannot recollect the last time he had wanted a woman, yet it had never been this fervid. "You're in for a long ride." Let me hear it when you can't hold back from screaming my name out over and over again.

No Gray. No Lucy. "Tonight is just you and me. I'll make you feel. Some real pleasure." Once she reaches past the flowery rainbows, she'll realize that Grey is not the only shade, that there are violets, that there are yellows, that there are greens and pinks, that there are whites and oranges and blues.

"No" His huge hands swat her middle, startled, and as soon turned his confused gaze to her face.

"You're the one who is going to see a piece of heaven. I'll be the one leaving you baffled." Her arms spread on the exposed skin of his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeats. Teasingly sliding down to undo the rest of the buttons, she giggled.

He snorted. "Oh. You better not make this a challenge. You're making me want to have you lose against me."

"Argh. Take your goggles off already." Liking the shade of his frames was easier when it excluded telling him and making him aware of the same.

"Do you only wish to see this pretty face? Won't you be delighted to see certain other parts of me? Babe, I'm telling you, I have something far more appetizing that you're yet to see." He said as his belt slid across his palm, coming undone.

Why did she want to dive into the depths of pleasure with this man, to want him to savor every inch of her? To submit to him?

The gates to her heart should not melt in the heat of his kiss.

In her chest were roses, tainted red with bloody love. Her sun effloresced in December days, crisp and white with snow. Roses blossomed like in blackthorn winter, through all the blinding fog.

Now, his wanton words had torn her whole, her roses squeezed and petals dozed. She believed the time had come for her fate to greet the eve, darkest nights of December, coldest of all. Roses, she buried them deep where the sun can't reach, on the garden of lost love where the moon upon is waning, unfeeling.

Before the shut gates, she stood, waves of cerulean caught in the gales, cheeks rosy. Maybe, a bud might sprout again, one day, in spring...

"Your foot. When did it heal?!"

Author's note

As you can see, this scene here has huge chunks of missing pieces towards the end. If anyone wishes to read it, I might write and add those flashbacks in one of the future chapters.