WARNING:- R-18 CONTENT
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Sunlight filtered gently through the half-drawn curtains, casting golden rays across the room now bathed in warm morning light. The soft hum of birdsong outside contrasted starkly with the chaos within.
Clothes were strewn across the floor—her nightie draped over the desk lamp like some forgotten silk trophy, his shirt hanging from the edge of a bookshelf, and at least one pillow lying abandoned near the door.
The air still carried the faint scent of passion—mingled perfume, sweat, and something deeply human.
Nova lay on his back, one arm lazily draped around the figure curled on his chest. Emma Granger's breathing was slow and steady, her bare skin glowing faintly in the sunbeam that kissed her shoulder. Her wild curls were a mess—tangled from hours of movement and pressed against his chest like she belonged there.
Her leg was still thrown over his, as if claiming him even in sleep. A small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips.
Nova blinked up at the ceiling, one hand absentmindedly running along the smooth curve of her ass.
Well, that happened.
Did he have a milf-attracting talent or something? Like seriously—first May, then Celise, Eloise, and now Emma. Lily too would be in the list after once she is healed.
The air still carried the heavy scent of sweat, perfume, and satisfaction. The sheets were tangled like they'd been through a hurricane, and a bra hung from the ceiling fan. Nova's chest rose and fell steadily, his arm lazily resting behind his head, a cocky grin on his face. Scratches ran down his ribs. Lipstick stains trailed down his abs like evidence. He felt like a god in a mortal bed.
Suddenly he heard Emma groan and open her eyes. She muttered, "Damn, my whole body is sore. Are all wizards this powerful in bed?"
Her voice was husky, raw from the moans and cries she'd released last night. Her eyes blinked open, bleary and red-rimmed from tears of pleasure. She shifted on the bed with a wince, her muscles aching with every tiny movement, thighs sore and trembling even now.
Nova smirked and felt proud at this moment. One had to know that his physical strength stats had reached almost at the top of 3rd rank. He could easily tire out these normal ladies. Like a certain flag costume hero says, "I can fight all day."
A smug heat bloomed in his chest. He flexed his fingers idly, remembering how her body had writhed beneath him again and again. He could still feel the phantom echoes of her nails on his back and the way her hips bucked when he pushed her over the edge for the fifth—sixth?—time. He'd lost count.
Coming out of his thoughts, Nova's hand started kneading Emma's ass, while he spoke, "No, not every wizard has as much strength as me. I am just a special case."
His fingers dug into her plump flesh with a slow, practiced rhythm, making the muscles in her legs twitch. He gave her a playful squeeze, his thumb brushing along the underside in a teasing motion, while his other hand found her sensitive nipple, flicking it lightly.
Biting back a moan as this bastard's hands started playing with her ass and nipples, Emma spoke, "Please, my whole body is aching. I can't take it anymore. So please don't stimulate my body."
Her voice trembled, caught between pleasure and surrender. Her lips parted with another soft gasp as her hips reflexively twitched into his palm. Her nipples, already sore and swollen, stiffened further under his touch, betraying her words.
Nova smirked, "Well, you should know that men are naturally hard in the morning. It's a biological fact."
His cock pulsed against her thigh, heat radiating from it like a silent invitation. He didn't even need to say anything more—his body was already asking the question.
Emma groaned, she really can't take it anymore. Her head dropped against his chest, her breath warm against his skin, body limp like a used-up ragdoll. Every nerve ending was overstimulated, yet somehow still greedy.
Suddenly she felt Nova's hand at her head. She didn't resist and moved towards it, meeting the beast that ravaged her last night. She started kissing it all over and tasted her juices on it.
The tip was still wet with lingering traces of their shared release. Her lips pressed soft kisses along the shaft, slow and reverent. Her tongue circled the base, savoring the mix of flavors—hers and his. She moaned softly, cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy as she looked up at him from below, utterly wrecked.
She started kissing it all over and tasted her juices on it.
Each kiss grew slower, deeper, as her lips traveled the thick length. Her tongue flicked out, tracing the vein running along the underside, and a shiver ran through her already aching body. Despite her earlier protest, a familiar heat stirred deep in her belly. Her thighs clenched involuntarily as she felt him twitch in her hand.
Nova let out a low, satisfied hum, his hand threading through her messy curls. "You say you can't take more," he said, voice smooth and amused, "but you're already dripping again."
Emma whimpered. Her face burned, but she didn't deny it. Her body betrayed her completely—every touch, every breath from him made her crave more. She hated how easily he could reduce her to this. But gods, it felt so good.
She opened her mouth wider, taking him in slowly. Her lips wrapped around the thick head, tongue swirling against it. Her eyes fluttered closed as she began bobbing her head, moving gently at first, her jaw already sore but willing.
Nova groaned, hips lifting slightly in response. He wasn't pushing—yet. He just watched her, eyes half-lidded, hand resting possessively on the back of her head as her pace built.
The room was filled again with soft, wet sounds, mixed with Nova's low breaths and Emma's muffled moans. Her saliva dripped down his shaft, pooling at the base, and her hands gripped his thighs for balance.
Then, without warning, Nova sat up. His hand tightened in her hair—not enough to hurt, just enough to take control.
"That's enough," he said, voice darker now. "You started something again. Now finish it properly."
Emma gasped as he pulled her up, their lips crashing together. His kiss was rough, hungry, claiming. She tasted herself on his tongue. Before she could fully catch her breath, he flipped her over with effortless strength, pressing her into the mattress.
Her body ached, yes—but the dull soreness only heightened her arousal. She spread her legs instinctively, biting her lip as she felt his tip press against her soaked entrance.
"I can't," she whispered, trembling under him. "I really—"
He leaned down, lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "Then lie still and take it."
And with one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside her again.
Her scream was muffled by the pillow.
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After pounding Emma into a whimpering, trembling mess, Nova didn't say a word. He simply lifted her into his arms, her slick skin sticking lightly to his, thighs still trembling from the final wave of release. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm. She was exhausted—utterly used, utterly satisfied.
Her body bore the marks of his attention—red impressions where his fingers had gripped too tightly, faint love bites trailing down her collarbone, and the deep flush that lingered between her thighs. She didn't resist as he carried her across the room, only murmured softly, eyes barely open, "You're insatiable…"
The bathroom welcomed them with warm light and enchanted mist curling along the floor. Nova set her down on a cushioned stool and turned the golden-hued taps. Instantly, warm water cascaded down from the floating runic spout, and a soft fragrance filled the air—jasmine and sandalwood, calming and earthy.
He stepped into the shower with her, gently guiding her beneath the stream. His hands moved slowly, reverently, running soap along her curves, over every peak and valley of her body that he had just ravaged. He paid extra attention to her sore spots—massaging her inner thighs, washing between her legs with almost teasing precision, enough to make her whimper even now.
Emma clung to his shoulders, biting her lip, her voice low. "If you touch me like that again… I might break."
He only smirked.
After drying her off with a warm charm, he carried her back, placing her on the freshly made bed. The sheets were cool, enchanted, soft as clouds. She melted into them, her body still humming with afterglow, her mind drifting somewhere between sleep and memory.
Nova stepped into the kitchen. The cold tiles kissed his bare feet as he moved with quiet purpose, cloth wrapped loosely around his waist—still shirtless, muscles rolling with every motion. His body bore its own marks: faint nail trails down his back, and a bruise on his neck from when she lost control and bit down.
Thankfully, the others were dead asleep from last night's attack.
Nova cracked eggs with one hand, stirred tea with the other, and added herbs without needing to look. Toast sizzled in butter on the pan while ripe fruits arranged themselves on a floating tray.
When he returned to the bedroom, the space had changed.
The room now smelled of forest rain and blooming roses—thanks to the wandless atmospheric charms he'd cast. The mess from last night—the scattered clothes, broken lamp, wet sheets—was gone. Not even a crease in the blankets remained. Wizards really had some absurdly convenient spells. Just a flick, and everything resets—scent, touch, even lingering energy.
No trace of chaos. No evidence of the debauchery that had taken place.
Except her.
Emma lay sprawled on the bed, nude save for the sheet barely clinging to her hips, one breast exposed, her abused nipple exposed to cool air, rising and falling with slow breaths. A soft red mark lingered on her neck, and her parted lips still bore the faintest tremble.
She looked ruined. Beautifully ruined.
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CHAPTER:- [65- RETURN TO MARVEL] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON.
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