Control yourself, Halyna!
But my body might as well be a separate entity all on its own, with the way every inch of me melts the moment his mouth replaces one of his hands, and his lips immediately fasten to my breast.
Aaaaah!
His tongue slowly laves around one pouting nipple, and a frenzy of sensations strikes every burning cell of my body. The way this god is making me go out of my mind with need is too much, and I'm not ready for it.
"Please let go—-" I hit his shoulders as I try pushing him away, but he doesn't even budge, and the words only make him start sucking on my nipple, and oh sweet merciful Greek heavens...
Too much, it's just too, too much pleasure—-
I watch dazedly as my fingers uncurl from his shoulders...in order to start combing through the ash-blond locks of his hair...until they end up clutching his head to my breast.
His tongue lashes against my nipple over and over, and my head eventually falls back as jolts of pleasure electrify my flesh. His mouth moves to my other breast, and my body starts to writhe.
Shameless, I'm so shameless.
The realization is mortifying, but it doesn't make the pleasure fade. Instead, it only intensifies, and when I feel the god scraping my nipple with his teeth just as his hand squeezes my other breast hard, the pleasure coursing through my veins reaches its zenith—-
Oooooooooooh—-
And I start to cum, for the very first time in my life.
Chapter Eight
My knee is back to working order the next day, but I sadly can't say the same for the rest of my body. I've been awake since five in the morning, and I've already spent almost an entire hour under the shower, but it hasn't done anything to cool me down...every time I think of my last wet dream of the...god.
I almost used the word 'beast' for a second there to be honest, but I tell myself it's time to get real and accustom myself to certain facts like—
One: A god wants me here, and so I am.
Two: Same god has also been doing his damned best to turn me into a pervert, and I'll...need to figure out what to do with that at some point in time, but for now we'll have to move on because—-
Three: If I don't get my ass out of the infirmary in thirty minutes, I'll be late on my first "official" day as a student of Rosethorne School.
The paper bag Nia's brought over from our suite contains several plastic-wrapped parcels: a messenger bag with the school's logo etched into its leather body, a pair of black Mary Janes, and a complete set of my uniform: a plaid blouse with contrast Peter Pan collars and cuffs, a dark-colored skirt, and a pair of thigh-high socks.
Keia isn't around when I get my discharge slip, and once I'm outside the infirmary, I find myself immediately disconcerted. It's my first time to see the private roads of Rosethorne to be buzzing with activity. There are students everywhere, walking, laughing, chatting, and...practically all of them turn to stare at me as I stride briskly past them, but not for the reason I imagined.
The good news: none of them seem to care about my appearance, and I'm thinking it's probably because everyone here's quite the looker. Then again, since everyone here is divinely "curated", I guess that part isn't much of a surprise.
As for the more-weird-than-bad news: none of them even care to be subtle as they whisper about me, and all I'm hearing is how Professor Luscious did this or that with me, and it's making me feel more bewildered than offended.
Uh...alleged mass murderer here, hello?
I'm supposed to have killed over a dozen people, and yet all they care about is my two-legged medium of transportation to the infirmary?
Whatever.
It's just been one surreal thing after another since I came here, and I think it's time to accept the truth. Nothing is normal in Rosethorne, and when I finally get to Anise Building, my first glimpse of the classrooms in it only further proves my point. Chandeliers in the ceilings and antique writing desks with matching velvet cushioned chairs. How is that typical in any way?
Practically everyone in the classroom turns in my direction, but since I'm the new and tough Halyna now, I simply toss my hair over my shoulder so they know their jealous little scowls are nothing to me.
The only vacant seats left are on the front row, but I don't mind taking this. Creaturae, my first class, is the study of Old World creatures, and it's one of the few Post-3rd subjects that I'm genuinely interested in. Quite possibly, this class might be one of the rare silver linings of studying in Rosethorne...or so I stupidly think until I see everyone suddenly sit up just as Professor Luscious - I mean, Lucious - comes striding in.