Episode 57

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MIKAEL'S POV

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The honeyed scent does not waft away even in her absence. I shut my eyes for a long while, hoping to rid the redolence of her arousal, but it is to no avail.

To put it lightly, the monster she has arisen below currently attacks the seams of my trousers relentlessly, a miserable attempt to free itself from the material's prison and perhaps latch itself to the suctioning channel worth its seeking.

Unfortunately, that path of action is no choice of mine. Not now. Not in public. Not when I have not taken possession of her heart. She yet tiptoes around me, unsure what to do, how to feel and react to what I say.

The property is peculiar, as are her tastes, I've come to heed; for one, never have I met any as infatuated with maple oatmeal cookies as exhibited in her frequent demands for them. And this uncanny obsession is none the whole of it. The Luna is a walking box of wonderments—many catastrophic.

Scanning around, I parse the scheme of the shop's settings. Rows o