Note:

Flashbacks and thoughts in italics

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


CHAPTER 16

Love Again


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"You know what we both need?" Loke's breath on the column of her exposed neck lingered crisp, but before he leaned down to press a loud smooch—right there—with his red pepper lips. So hot. So. Fucking. Hot Damn lips.

The sultry air had them both sweating buckets, even with the air-conditioning. Juvia was taken aback by the roughness of his sound and the digits on her scalp. Was it just the air or something else? His hand had already found her longish curls, grabbing a handful and fisting. He pulled at the plentiful fringes, tilting her pulsing neck. Oh dear, it was something else entirely.

The walls were made to seem patchy with mirrors. Small and large. Round and rhombus. The kaleidoscopic ceiling added to the trance of their intercourse. "What do you want, Loke?" Juvia gulps, blinking away the clouds from her eyes, from the sweat streaming down her glistening forehead. She peeked through his slanting lashes to meet his stare, fiery eyes burning into her core like the sun in May. Aroused, her hands wrapped around his neck and licked his jaw. Everywhere was streaked in supernal harlequin but not the sheets over their dew-doused bodies. They were white.

He kissed once again, this time harder as his teeth scraped the skin, blooming a gooseflesh meadow all over her. "You and I need to blow off some steam."

Legs entangled in the comfort of cotton and each other. Loke smiled into her hair, his hands nestled in her waist. His fingers mapped her out, and his lips were soft on her skin. Juvia's eyes were wide awake, open even as he bit down on her shoulders with a muffled groan. She had never been held like this, and it felt so good she wanted to remember all the unreasonably, laughably good moments. The embroidered orange curtains and the bright candle flames complemented his bangs and those beautiful lashes that tickled her chest. "D'you feel this too, Juvia?" Loke grunts, slipping inside impressively through her sopping slick slit. "This want, this burning desire? I want to know why I feel this way, what happened between us that night." She couldn't reply, for she couldn't think to speak. They got traded for nirvana.

Cheap pillows laid carelessly about the corners. Loke took her face in his hands and sank into her with a raw, needy kiss. How many times had he kissed her? She knew one thing: he loved kissing her. A lot. He had told her while she was sitting on his lap on their way to this place. Love Hotel, they called it. They both hitchhiked on a flower truck and had to take the passenger seat. There was so little space. Hence, she ended up on his lap, with him almost fingering her. They would have, were it not for the driver's flushed face. What in the world was wrong with both of them! Had they become hedonists? Was it because of the brownies they had at the Mayor's Church? She immediately felt guilty. He has zero shame, so she tapped him on his cheeks to scold him. He had smirked back, pulling her closer.

His touches set her soul on a warm fire and made her glow like sealines at sunset. He was the most refulgent thing she had ever witnessed, and she saw the light, the wariness that she was tired of the cold. He ground into her with rhythmic grunts, and his teasing pinches on her made her moan and coloured her pink. Every thrust had the bed creaking loudly. Loke's lips moved against hers forcefully, which she returned with much burning hunger. He thumbed over her nipples, tugging them as he did. They reacted to his touch instantly. "Mhmph."

He sighed. "Ngh—I thought so." Her arms came around his middle, digits sliding over the taut muscles on his back as he jerked deeper. Her brows scrunched up, mouth parting in many gasps. She saw how the Adam's apple dipped when he gulped. He grinned a grin she was tempted to kiss, hair like an unreal bird's golden nest.

"You are a nymph." He grinds himself into her with rising lust, hands on her face and fingers in her mouth for her to suck. "You like that?"

"I like it." She yelps, moving to match his rhythm. She is excited. Her erect clitoris and pebbled nipples said as much.

"Me too." He panted, rolling his hips to get the point across. "How do you like it?"

"I like it so much. You make me stop breathing, and I can't—I can't—" Juvia heaves, her breath cooling where it met his skin.

"I can't what?"

"I—aha—can't stop loving it." Changing positions, he grips her thighs and throws them over his shoulder. Now, this is something that he learned today. Juvia is super flexible; she bends elegantly. When submissive, she arches to his will. Or riding on his cock, calling the shots like a fucking Queen to be worshipped. And that's the sexiest thing Loke could think of the last time he jacked off in his empty bed. He gave her a chase kiss, supporting his hands on his palms on either side of her head.

"I know you're not stupid to ignore it." Is she not? "Why wouldn't you want to know?" And he's not oblivious. "I'm saying this because I know something is strange when I see it." There were no rose petals to furbelow their pleasure, but scented candles burned placid on the tables arranged along the walls. He took a hand full of her breast, bending his head to smooch on the perky nipple. Her chest was flecked with the hickeys he had left. He slurped, not taking his eyes off her face. This was tender, both the way his tongue swirled around her like a slow wave and the look on his face. She melted him, took his past away, washed away his pain and flooded his mind with a foreign fullness. He almost cried at the new feelings she was introducing to him. Suddenly, Loke stopped his movements, making Juvia freeze.

"Let's fuck, because I've been getting serious hard-ons. Every single day. It's starting to become a pain in the ass. But we gotta find out what's wrong." He climbed up, adjusting his knees, kissing her again when he took a hand to the other breast to squeeze and paw. "Or right. Together." His free hand stroked her clit. "Aghh—ah—ah—ahhh..." It was his middle finger. She turned her face away, embarrassed at how familiar he had gotten in a bat of the eye. She felt like an instrument he had laid his fingers on. In their coupling, the sounds she made turned to strains of music.

"You are something." She whimpered. "If I didn't know what happened, I would've taken you for a degenerate."

His arms bent to adjust her, hauling her higher on his hips. He slammed her against the wall, not hard enough to hurt her, just fast enough to startle, and lapped at her lips hungrily. "Ah, Ju-chan. Who thought Juvia Lockser was a good little slut?" She liked it when he talked like this. As he brought a hand between to pull apart her labia, her drenched pussy squeezed his length in a heavenly way. "You're so good to me. "You're such a good girl." She left him out of breath as much as he drove any sane thought out of her head. He fucked her insane like this. It's ironic. Because even though she returned the favour, he is already a bit mad as a March hare.

"You've become even more annoying. When did this happen?" Beside the bed, on a small hexagonal table of cypress, a book was open and thick, flaky biscuits sat shy on the yawning page. There were wine bottles, and inside a forgetful jar, there were heart-shaped lollipops in plastic wrappers. Aphrodisiacs. Flavoured carnal things.

"Ever since you screamed my name and took my cock last time—" He ran his mouth. "—so well like your pussy was made for it." She lets out an embarrassing squeal, wetness pulsing out of her. "You don't look very annoyed right now, though. You look like you've been thinking about me and touching yourself last two months." His voice modulated, stretching the syllables deep underneath the earth. "Too bad, all you had to do was call me, and I would've helped you out directly."

The smell of cedar plundered her senses off their awareness of everything except him. Ephemerally and effortlessly, he becomes her world, and the experience is staggering. Closing her eyes, she is back in that bed in the forest, on top of him, palms on his rising chest, moving her hips to the song of their breaths as her skin steams, as though it rubbed over peppercorns. "Hate that dirty mouth of yours."

"Even on your tits?" He gazed at her with feigned innocence and pulled his dick out of her. He let his head pop in and out of her convulsing core. She found herself enjoying the torture. She knew he was close as well, for he was groaning. It took all of his willpower to not bang back in.

"I like it there—" She patted her hand into his mane and brought his face back to her chest, cradling his head in the cosy haven between her breasts. One of his hands was nuzzled snug in her womanhood, a middle finger sinking into her slit for a stroke, starting to move in and out of her at an even rhythm. "—and down there." He liked it there. He wondered what nickname their relationship would get should they undergo a change from familiar strangers (in the eyes of the public) to an unexpected celebrity couple. He grabbed her thick thigh, squeezing it in his hand, before throwing them over his shoulders.

He must be loving the damp sounds she was making, his hips slapped against hers, and his thrusts became messier. They both came together, and the last moan ripped out of his mouth was louder than hers. Without waiting to catch his breath, he drew back dramatically on the spur of the moment, and Juvia wondered why? Then she saw what he was looking—excuse her—ogling at. His semen sloshed out of her slit, and his keen eyes got dreamy, absorbing the sight. "Damn right, you do."

Then, they realise that something is off with their mating. If there's a phrase called "sex heals," it would apply here. Because when they woke up the next afternoon, they woke up sore but refreshed. Hungry—this time for food and dirty with the remnants of their late-night passion dried up on their inner thighs, their skins were clear of scars, not a single bruise or cut left on their skins, except for the love bites they had marked on each other. And that's weird. Amazingly weird.

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Author's Note:

love again by dua lipa.