Hey
lovelies, happy Hump Day!
I almost
didn’t make it to today’s Wednesday Brief. My muse seems to be on the run and
worrying about my eldest dog getting operated hasn’t helped (everything went fine, btw). However, somehow,
I managed to scrape together Little Luna's next chapter. I hope you like it and as always, don't miss out on the other great Briefer's!
I’ve used the following prompts:
“As thick
as London fog …” and “She ran in …”, although I have altered this last one a
bit.
Little Luna (5)
Before
Mikelo could grab her again, she stood and ran. The fog swirled around her,
blinding her and confusing her as she fought her way barefoot through the brambles.
When had she dropped her shoes? The
thought invaded her mind that at least that way, when they searched for her
they’d know she’d been abducted.
Mikelo’s gravelly
voice called her back, the sound sending a sharp jolt through her. Ignoring the
pain in her chest, she continued to run.
“Clare.”
The voice
was closer now, the sound reverberating through her and making her cell in her
body tingle. She brushed the sensation away, adducing it to fear.
“Clare.”
Her throat
constricted. Her heart fluttered. Tears she didn’t realize she’d been holding began
to slip down her cheek. No. No. No.
“Little
Luna.”
He was
close. Without stopping, she twisted her head, searching for him through the
dense fog. Arms flailing wildly, she screamed as she tripped and fell hard on
her knees.
She
attempted to stand, but it was too late. Strong hands hauled her to her feet.
Muscled arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. Tears flowed freely as
fingers combed her hair and soothing nothings were whispered in her ear.
Clare
leaned into the firm body holding her, comforting her. Her tears started to
abate and she noticed for the first time the sound of a beating heart, steady,
soothing, right next to her ear. Unconsciously, her hand lifted, curling over
the spot. She took in a deep breath, inhaling Mikelo’s wild scent. Again. He
smelled wild, musky. Delicious. As if he knew her thoughts his pulse sped
beneath her ear. Swallowing, she looked up. Mikelo glanced at her, a mixture of
concern and something she couldn’t quite pinpoint in his dark gaze. His lips
parted. No. No words. She didn’t
allow him to speak. Standing on her toes, she reached out for him, brushing her
mouth against his. A zinging current swept over her, sensitizing her skin and
landing hard between her legs.
Again. She swept her lips over his, nipping on his
bottom bow. Mikelo’s groan fuelled her. Her hands rested on the nape of his
neck, bringing him down to her ravenous mouth. She didn’t have to coax him. His
mouth opened, his tongue dancing with hers as if their life depended on it. His
calloused hands slid over her waist, down to her hips. He pulled her closer,
drawing a moan from her as she felt his need pressing against her. Mikelo
pulled back, raining kisses on her jaw, her neck, her chest.
“Mikelo,”
she gasped out his name as her dress pooled at her feet. Her bra snapped at
then it was his mouth on her breast, his tongue lavishing her puckered nipple.
They fell to the floor, his hard body pressing down over her pliant one. She
ran her fingertips over his muscled abdomen, tracing the scars on his ribs, the
tattoos on his side.
“Little
Luna.”
His voice
was like hot chocolate. Or was it his eyes? She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t
gaze into those dark pools of wonder as he adored her body. She didn’t know
when her panties vanished. She didn’t care. It was all about Mikelo: His heat,
his breath, his horns rubbing against her clit as he lapped at her juices. She
writhed and moaned shaking underneath her lover’s attentive touch.
“Mikelo.”
His pale
face was flushed, his eyes dark as the night as he introduced a finger inside
her.
“My little
Luna.”
My. She
didn’t miss the possessive word nor the possessive growl as another finger made
its way inside her and curled over her g-spot.
“Please.”
Was that a
third finger? His tongue? His horns? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. Her
world narrowed. Her body trembled. She was so close, so close to the edge.
“Crumble
and fall, little Luna.”
Without
mercy, he shoved his digits inside her while his mouth latched onto her breast,
biting.
“Mikelo,” she
cried out his name, her body arching and her muscles clamping as the orgasm
shook her to the core.
Clare’s
eyes snapped open. For a moment, she was disoriented. Where was the fog? The
mist dancing over their naked flesh? Where was Mikelo? She missed his heat, his
firm hands on her skin. She swallowed and scrambled to sit up. Her eyes
adjusting to the dimly lit surroundings, she realized she was in a bedroom of
sorts, lying on a comfortable mattress and covered by furs. Peaking beneath
one, she started. She was dressed. Still wearing the wedding dress and the
nylon stockings. Had it all been a dream? Her hands shook. It felt so real:
Mikelo’s voice, his touch, his caress, his heat. Her body tingled, her vagina
still spasming from the aftershock of her orgasm. That had been real. Sighing
heavily, she closed her eyes. She felt bereft, cheated in a way that she didn’t
understand. Shouldn’t she feel relieved that none of it had actually happened? Shaking
her head, she threw back the covers. It didn’t matter, she had to get out of
there.
“Clare.”
The voice
stopped her in her tracks. Turning toward it, her eyes widened as from the
shadows a figure she’d failed to see before, emerged.
To be continued...
This week's Briefers!
Wet dream or real, or possibly both? :) You are a wicked tease. Right now I'm hoping the shadowy figure is Mikelos, and fully aware you might be adding another twist to this plot. :)
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