Chapter 711: A Small Blessing in a Cruel Vault (4)
"What were you about to say?" Her voice slipped low, a laugh tangled in it, soft and unintended, as if annoyed at itself for betraying her usual sharpness. Why do I sound like this? she thought, the question prickling her chest. Each day in this slot felt stranger, like the stone was reshaping her edges, making her feel things she hadn’t planned. It was unsettling, this warmth creeping into her bones, but she didn’t stop it. She leaned forward instead, choosing the moment over the doubt.
Mikhailis kept his voice small, careful, like speaking to a sleeping dog he didn’t want to wake. "You look tired. Do you want more rest? Rodion and I can go check routes." His words were an offering, not a command, laid between them like a map he trusted her to read. His eyes, awake and steady, watched her face—not to trap her, but to follow her lead. Don’t push. Offer. Let her choose, his thoughts seemed to say, a quiet mantra she could almost hear.
He added, almost as an afterthought, though she saw the planning in it, "I sent skeleton pairs and two ant squads to patrol and map. Quiet only." His tone was light, but the work behind it was heavy, deliberate.
Of course he did. The reflex to protest surged—You should’ve woken me. I decide deployments. No solos. The words pressed against her tongue, sharp and ready. But his small smile, honest and unassuming, disarmed her. "I’m... also kind of tired," he said, like admitting the sky was gray. No bravado, just truth. Don’t make it a hero contest, his eyes added, a joke flickering across his mouth before it wandered off.
The protest softened before it left her lips. He’d stepped beside her, not above or below, sharing the weight of their exhaustion. He’s not trying to win,
she thought, the realization settling like a stone in calm water. The space between their mouths was small now, a breath’s width, intimate and unignorable. She felt his exhale on her upper lip—mint, warm, steady, mingling with her own. His eyes shifted, adjusting his breath to match hers, a quiet courtesy that made her ribs spark. Why does this feel so... right? The thought was a coal, glowing without permission, and she let it burn."We won’t... waste today," she said, breaking the sentence into pieces, matching the slot’s stingy space. Her voice was soft, deliberate, letting the air between them breathe too.
He didn’t move, didn’t rush the space. He listened, his presence a steady anchor.
"Twenty minutes more won’t break the world," she added, half-joking, half-ordering, the words written in soft chalk. I’m letting this happen, she thought, the admission strange but not unwelcome. The slot was changing her, making her bolder, hungrier for these moments. She didn’t stop it—she wanted to see where it led.
He nodded, the corners of his eyes softening, a string inside him loosening. "Then... twenty."
No one counted. Their mouths met, not by plan but by instinct, as if tea and honesty had made it inevitable. The kiss was slow, familiar, a rhythm they’d learned in this cruel stone cradle. Their breaths aligned, not stealing but sharing. Tongues touched once, twice, and Thalatha felt a smile curl into the kiss, mirrored by his. Rodion’s eye-lights dimmed, a discreet servant giving them space. Her fingers traced the seam of his sleeve, brushing the ridge of his collarbone, warm and solid. His palm settled at her waist, exactly where they’d agreed it was safe, a touch that felt like a promise kept.
The kiss deepened, not planned but brave, relief making Thalatha bolder, as if the slot’s tight walls had stripped away her armor, leaving only raw desire. This... it’s so nice, she thought, the sensation flooding her like a warm tide, washing over her senses. I want more. So addicting. His tongue... The hunger was sharp, alive, a flame she hadn’t named but couldn’t deny, pulling her closer to Mikhailis. She uplifted the kiss, bold and unapologetic, her tongue seeking his with a need that startled her, fierce and unyielding. "Slrp!" The sound broke free, wet and raw, as her tongue curled around his, hungry, tasting the mint-paper’s clean edge and the deeper, earthy warmth of him—salt, dust, and something uniquely his. "MMH!" she moaned, a low, desperate hum vibrating in her throat, her hunger spilling out like a confession she hadn’t meant to make. She hugged his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, the coarse strands grounding her as she pulled him closer, needing him nearer. I’m not stopping this, she thought, the realization fierce, a spark igniting in her chest. I want him, gods, I want him.
Mikhailis followed her lead, his breath quickening, arousal flickering in his eyes like a fire catching dry wood. His tongue met hers with equal hunger, sucking gently at first, then harder, coiling around hers in a dance that was both fierce and tender, a rhythm that spoke of trust and want. "Slrp! Slrp!" The sounds were loud, unashamed, filling the slot with the raw intensity of their need. Their tongues twisted, curling tightly, sucking with a desperate edge—mint fading into salt, the warmth of skin, a flavor that was only theirs, a secret shared in the stone’s embrace. She sucked at his tongue, pulling it deeper into her mouth, savoring the way it filled her senses, and he answered, his tongue pressing back, a rhythm that made her head spin. This is too good, she thought, her body humming with a need that felt like it could consume her. I can’t stop wanting more. His tongue, the way it moves, it’s like he knows me, like he’s always known.
Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling gently, a silent plea for more, her body alive with the heat of him so close. The slot’s confines pressed them together, erasing any distance, and she felt his breath against her lips, hot and uneven, mingling with hers in a way that made her pulse race. Why does this feel so right? she wondered, the thought a fleeting spark in the haze of desire. Each day in this slot had chipped away at her restraint, stirring something wild and unfamiliar, a hunger that grew sharper with every shared breath. She didn’t fight it—she leaned into it, letting the fire guide her.
Then, without warning, Mikhailis lifted her, his hands strong and sure, pulling her onto his lap with a fluid motion that spoke of quiet confidence. "MMHH!!" she gasped, the sound sharp with surprise as she settled against him, the chair creaking softly under their combined weight. The huge, hot thing pressed against her, unmistakable through the frayed fabric of his trousers, pushing against the ripped part of her undergarment, right at her cave below. Gods, it’s so big, she thought, the sensation overwhelming, a fire igniting where he pressed against her, sending a jolt through her core. She was drenched instantly, her body reacting before her mind could catch up, the heat of him making her pulse thunder. It’s too much, too real, she thought, her thighs trembling with want. She couldn’t help it—she started moving, her hips rolling instinctively, seeking more of that contact, the warmth of him directly against her skin, entering her, filling her as it had in the days before. It’s too good, she thought, her body trembling with a need she couldn’t name. I need more, I need him now.
The kiss grew hotter, a fire they both fed, their tongues tangling with a desperation that felt like salvation. "Slrp! MMH!" The sounds were a chorus, wet and intense, echoing in the slot as she tasted him deeper, her tongue coiling around his, pulling, giving, needing. The mint-paper’s clean bite had faded, leaving only the salt of his skin, the warmth of him, a flavor that was theirs alone. His hands gripped her waist, steady but hungry, fingers digging into her hips with a pressure that spoke of his own arousal, his breath hitching against her mouth. He wants this as much as I do, she thought, the realization making her bolder, her tongue sucking at his with a ferocity that matched his own, curling and twisting in a dance that felt like devouring, like they could consume each other’s truths and hold them safe.
Her hips moved, deliberate and sure, grinding against him, feeling the heat of him press harder, the tip of his huge thing teasing her entrance, sending shivers through her core. This is what I want, she thought, her body screaming for more, a hunger that drowned out the slot’s cold stone. Mikhailis lifted her slightly, his hands powerful, and she felt it—the tip right there, hot and ready, a promise of what was to come. Yes, now, she thought, her body aching with anticipation. "PLEASE, YES, FILL ME IN,"