POV Morgan
- "Endless efforts to make the world better will be in vain if we ourselves are worn out". - Morgan pondered as she headed to the bathroom hidden within Elizabeth's alchemical shop. The portal, adorned with runes, creaked open, revealing a path into the room where the wall tiles shimmered from deep purple to emerald green. Candles in gilded holders cast intricate patterns of shadows. Soft towels and robes, adorned with embroidery, hid behind the doors of a wooden dresser. The damp mist covering the floor created the sensation that Morgan was entering another dimension, a brief escape from the hustle and bustle. The pleasant scent of potions and herbs, mixed with the fragrance of fresh soap, enveloped the space. The sorceress took a deep breath and closed the door behind her. In the center of the room stood a large bathtub. The alchemist opened an antique copper faucet, and water of a muted lilac hue rushed through the pipes. Thanks to Elizabeth, the water was heated in anticipation of the adventurers' return. Alone at last, Morgan allowed herself to shed the optimistic smile she wore every day to match her ideals of the perfect leader. Fatigue remained on her face. It's challenging to pretend to be someone you've never been. If only the others knew how her hair stood on end and her legs wobbled with every encounter with demons. Amphorae and vials with colorful remedies lined the shelves, suitable for restoring strength and caring for the body. Morgan examined the flasks with mysterious concoctions before deciding to add a few drops of essential oil to the water, creating a syrupy honey-like scent. The water's surface rippled like a magical mirror. The alchemist removed her dusty clothes and the pendant that always accompanied her. Gathering her hair into a messy bun, Morgan eased into the water. The warmth of the bath embraced her body, and tension seemed to melt away. It was all thanks to the oil crafted by her mentor. Lazily rubbing its remnants into her skin, she felt the magic seeping into every cell, bringing relief. Closing her eyes, she convinced herself that she truly deserved to rest. She drifted into slumber...END POV Morgan
A few hours later, when the silence in the alchemical shop became unbearable, Michael paced anxiously down the corridor, heading towards the bathroom. He politely knocked on the portal and, receiving no response, decided to crack it open. Behind it, he discerned the muted light of enchanted candles, as the ordinary ones had long since extinguished, leaving behind only melted wax. -"Morgan? I'm coming in". - the wizard announced, opening the door and entering the sanctuary of silence. The bath was filled with fragrant water, and Morgan, raising her head slightly, slept in this oasis of tranquility. A light mist hung over the water like a curtain. In the soft light, her contours seemed even more graceful, and wet hair framed a face that exuded angelic innocence. Michael, standing hesitantly at the threshold, couldn't help but smile, seeing her so serene. He took a few steps into the room, trying not to disturb her sweet slumber. Observing her, the archivist noticed traces of hidden fatigue on her beloved face, which was previously concealed by feigned fearlessness. Her breathing was calm and steady, as if she managed to rid herself of the burden of responsibility that had fallen on her shoulders. The wizard sat on the edge of the bath and reached out to gently wake Morgan. At that moment, she, as if under the influence of a spell, involuntarily smiled in her sleep, drawing attention to her slightly bluish lips. Without touching her, he lowered his hand into the water, which was far from warm. - "Soon to catch a cold... Beautiful, time to wake up". - he whispered. His heart beat with anticipation. Morgan amusingly wrinkled her nose. : "Maybe another 5 minutes, Mime? Victoria can wait". - she said, attempting to turn onto the other side, feeling the water's surface for the imaginary blanket she intended to wrap herself in, but began slipping deeper into the bath. - "Well, Victoria is used to waiting her turn for the bath, but I'm afraid I'm getting impatient!" - Michael smirked. Her eyelids abruptly opened, meeting his mischievous gaze. Morgan splashed water in his direction, making him turn away. It seemed she had overdone it with the amount of water. Michael's gray trousers were soaked through, clinging to his lean legs. Moisture emphasized the texture of the fabric, giving it a darker shade. - "Michael?! What are you doing here?" - the alchemist exclaimed. Confusion reflected on her face. She awkwardly tried to cover her naked body, realizing that he might have watched her sleeping. The next blow for her was the memories of what they did in the library. Yes, they were already close, but no one, except the archivist, had seen her in negligee. Morgan was in a kind of trance. Her breathing became slightly faster, and the fingers of her free hand played uncertainly with the strands that had fallen out of her hairstyle, creating the appearance of busyness when, in fact, she was trying to hide her embarrassment. - "How do you see, decided to keep you company. Hope you don't mind?" - he jokingly said, feeling how the wet fabric under the weight of water clung and uncomfortably cooled the skin. - "It's been quite a while since you left. I just came in to check if everything's okay." - "What could happen to me? You can imagine how much time a girl needs to tidy up?" - she babbled with excitement, taking his words about "company" at face value. Unable to find a comfortable position, she pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them with her arms. - "You scared me." - "I can imagine. Tell me, how comfortable is it to sleep in icy water from zero to ten?" - The blonde scooped water with his hand and returned the favor to the alchemist. His mischievous smile indicated that he was savoring the moment. - "I want to say in my defense: I knocked. Knowing your abilities, I could have waited an eternity under the door and then berated myself for something happening to you." Splashes hit her collarbones. Drops running down the smooth skin emphasized her femininity, but at that moment, she felt vulnerable. Dismayed by the mage's audacity, Morgan counterattacked, initiating a water battle: "Ten out of ten!" The room filled with the sounds of splashing water and laughter. Michael, sitting on the edge of the bath, laughed heartily. He actively splashed water towards the sorceress, dodging her attacks in the process. Every movement of his was filled with lightness and mischief, as if he were a child. Morgan, in turn, responded to his attacks with the same enthusiasm, forgetting about caution. She splashed water in response, trying to hit the target accurately, but the fun was more important than precision. Michael's usually refined and stylish appearance underwent changes. The turquoise mantle now felt heavy, lying on his back like a wet blanket. The shirt, soaked with water, clung to his body, emphasizing the lines of his shoulders and torso. Water droplets incessantly dripped from his wet hair, rolling down the neckline and sleeves, leaving traces on the floor. However, drenched to the thread, his outfit did not lose its sophistication. The archivist ran his hand through his hair, pushing back the wet strands from his face. The mantle constrained his movements, so without much thought, he threw it on the floor. Then he began unbuttoning the soaked shirt, looking away to create at least some semblance of decency. His actions did not go unnoticed. The fallen clothes made a dull sound, making the girl startle. Morgan tried to maintain a balance between curiosity and tact but couldn't take her eyes off the chaotic figure: "Michael, what are you doing?" The question sounded when he started on the shirt, carefully unbuttoning each button. He did it with the characteristic nonchalance, as if he had been undressing all his life. - "What a person does with wet clothes. Takes them off". - he said, making eye contact. Michael took off the blouse, splashing water around, and sighed expressively, as if getting rid of a heavy burden. The bait worked. The mage felt the cool air meeting his naked body, but the predatory smile on his face indicated that he wasn't too concerned about it. His figure was slender but at the same time toned, with discernible muscle contours. Tall stature gave him stateliness. Michael's shoulders were broad, and his waist was slender, atypical for most men. Light hair, like gold, created an exquisite contrast with his slightly sun-kissed skin and amethyst eyes. The wizard not only possessed charm and enticing looks but also radiated inner strength and confidence, making him even more attractive. All these games went too far: "Michael?!" - "Yes?" -he responded, getting rid of wet boots. One of them resisted, sticking to his leg. Water spilled from it onto the floor, creating another puddle. - "You're not going to..." - Morgan tried to express her concerns, but her words froze in the air when the guy, without embarrassment, unfastened his belt. Tension hung in the room; the two were on the verge between jokes and something more interesting. - "But the water has already cooled, you checked it yourself!" The mage raised an eyebrow with feigned surprise and shook his head. - "Well, so what? The fun is just beginning. I want to conduct an experiment with temperature. Where else can you conduct such research if not here?" - "Are you out of your mind?" - she asked, moving to the other end of the bath, which seemed safer to her at the moment. - "In the Mages' Guild! Ann offered to help you with enrollment when everything is over." - "After all, wizards are allowed a bit of madness, aren't they?" - he responded, scrutinizing the girl's reaction. It became clear to her that she had fallen into the trap of her own feelings. Now, she had to play along or try to thwart his plans: "You really are crazy. Bathhouse experiments are probably the next great stage in the development of magic. But let's not forget the essence: what are you trying to achieve?" - "Well, first of all, I was worried about you. Secondly, you're freezing, and I know a way to warm you up... Shall I continue?" At the words "Shall I continue?" the alchemist swallowed, watching as rivulets streamed down his sculpted abs and disappeared behind the fabric of his still unremoved pants. - "Michael, this is not funny ". - she said, trying to find a tone that would preserve dignity. What did he mean? - "You're too serious, Morgan. Sometimes you just have to enjoy the moment ". - his fingers touched the button on his pants. - "After all, we're here to enjoy life." - "You know, I think I'll go. Enjoy your splashing."- Morgan, realizing that the situation was getting out of control, turned away from the mage. Leaning on the edge, she reached for the towel on the nearby table. - "Ah!" With a cry, the girl slipped. Michael managed to catch her just in time under her chest, preventing her from falling. He pressed her against him, not letting her plunge into the water: "Had enough?" It seemed she had lost the power of speech. The wizard's skin was scorching, transmitting this warmth to her frozen body. Michael was always there. Too close, to be precise. Take the fall in the catacombs of Goldner Manor, for example, when a magical vortex threw them onto stone slabs. He wasn't afraid to be her safety cushion, gathering her in his arms, even though the landing was quite painful. Or their conversations when no one was watching. He constantly invaded her personal space, trying to become a part of it, using touches. Either he stroked her fingertips with his, or he leaned in to whisper another joke about Victoria or Ann, inadvertently brushing her soft skin with his lips. Michael let her go, sinking into contemplation. He understood that the sorceress felt unsure, and he decided to give her space. There was a real struggle in him between the desire for closeness and the wish not to scare Morgan with his persistence. However, in his world of charm and chaos, these manifestations were natural. The mage flared up like a fire, which could both warm and burn. - "Sorry if it was too much. I just want you to know that with me, you're safe. I won't do anything without your consent" .- he thought, "for now." - "Just tell me if I'm going too far." - "No need to apologize, Michael. Just... Just give me time". - she whispered. The wizard touched her hair, gently tucking it behind her ear. They exchanged glances, and at that moment, Morgan felt as if all the walls between them had disappeared. - "Of course, Morgan. No rush. You won't believe how patient I am, especially when it comes to us." - He raised his wet shirt, ready to put it back on. - "Michael, it's icy! You'll catch a cold!" - the girl worried. - "These were my words, dear! You'll soon have a runny nose ".- the blond grinned. - "Since you care so much about my health, and I care about yours, maybe you'll allow me to join you?" - "Catching a cold together isn't fun. The water has long gone cold." - "It's fixable..." - The archivist stepped into the tub, displacing excess water onto the floor. Morgan froze, giving him room to maneuver. Grimacing from the temperature difference, he sat at the bottom of the bath, leaning back on its edge. - "Aren't you taking off your pants?" - the sorceress felt the fabric touching her thighs. - "And would you like that?" - came the provocative response. An outraged splash was directed at him. The mage laughed and summoned his magic, remembering that he had offered to warm Morgan but not in this way. Morgan's lips parted in admiration. He was beautiful. His eyes sparkled with amethyst flame. Streams of magic, like snakes, coiled around his body and filled the room with a purple glow. - "It's amazing how your magic harmonizes with you, Michael," - she whispered, feeling warmth penetrating her skin and soul. - "I wonder if eye color affects the shade for all wizards?" - "No, I have my tricks," - Michael replied with a mischievous smile, raising his eyebrows expressively, and made a smooth hand movement. - "And this is only a small part of my talents." Submitting to the wizard's will, the water in the bath seemed to pulsate, creating invisible waves of warmth. The archivist closely monitored the girl's reaction, capturing every moment, as if his spells carried something more significant: "So, it's better now, isn't it? Almost like in a river after a summer rain." Still embarrassed by what was happening, the alchemist responded with a gulp. - "See, nothing to be afraid of. Now we're like true heroes of romance novels, a princess in the bath, and a noble knight nearby," he said enthusiastically. - "Come to me; I won't bite." - "Well, I don't know, Michael. You're definitely not a noble knight," - Morgan replied, but there was no reproach in her voice. She obediently moved closer to him and tried to settle between his thighs, leaning against his chest. The fact that he remained in pants added to her confidence. The wizard felt her shiver and gently enveloped her in his arms. He watched with satisfaction as droplets sparkled on the girl's skin, illuminated by the light of his magic, as if thousands of his marks: "Good girl." The girl nervously chuckled. Courage was inherent in her. No, rather recklessness than courage. Because how else would one unarmed dive into a crowd of demons, but when he invades her comfort zone, she immediately hides. Michael kissed her on the crown and inhaled the scent of her hair: "So, do you remember falling asleep? Have you had a chance to wash up?" - "Mm, no. It was so quiet and calm. And then you know the rest," - Morgan's breathing became calmer. - "Pass me the sponge," - he requested and reached for the bottles on the table next to the bath. He took a liking to a flask made of transparent crystal, shimmering with diamond flashes under the candlelight. While the girl tried to reach the washcloth lying at the opposite end of the tub, not once displaying her charms, the mage, thoughtfully twirling the stopper in his hand, inhaled the scent of rose oil and spices, pursing his lips dissatisfied. It seemed to belong to Victoria. -"You need this..." - Morgan pointed to the small vial standing out among the others, handing over the lip balm. It lacked bright labels or luxurious patterns. If she hadn't mentioned it, the guy would have continued to think it was someone's forgotten potent headache remedy. The vessel looked unremarkable, but it hid an aroma that made Michael ponder. He recalled lavender, which the alchemist always used in her potions. About violets on the windowsill of her room and lilac bushes where she hid with a book... No, this was something else. What note was the last one? : "How interesting." The alchemist couldn't find a place for herself again. Her tense back and fidgety movements indicated anxiety. This wouldn't do. The wizard poured a bit of the essence into his hand. Usually, such bath products unpleasantly dried the skin, so he didn't use them, preferring Saponaria inflorescences , but this liquid pleasantly surprised him. Flowing from the flask, it became as viscous as nectar. Having spread the balm between his palms, Michael gently caressed Morgan's stiff shoulders. She flinched at his touch. She expected him to use the sponge he asked for. Wasn't that a reason to consider her body? With light, circular motions, he massaged tense points on the girl's body, gradually moving down, embracing her back and lower back. His hands, as if sensing her needs, caressed the curves. The mage didn't hurry, remaining as sensitive as possible. - "Tell me if something's wrong," he whispered. His breath touched her neck, and she could feel the warmth of his lips. Her body gradually relaxed under his caresses; she melted like wax. His fingers delicately slid down her thighs. The touches became something more than just a massage – it was a language of love. It seemed Morgan understood him better than just words. A blissful moan escaped her lips. Michael smiled, feeling his heart stop for a moment. This sweet sound became the best reward for his efforts. "You're full of surprises..." - His pupils dilated as he realized that the final component of the remedy was passionflower, easily mistaken for lilac. The balm, absorbing into her skin, not only left traces of caresses but also an intimate scent of melon, awakening sensations. The girl leaned her head on his shoulder, trusting and affectionate. - "Want me to wash your hair?" - regaining bits of self-control, the mage suggested. - "Yes, please," - she extended, eliciting a chuckle from him. Taking a bit more liquid in one hand, he free-handedly unraveled her disheveled bun: "They need to get wet." Making a quiet humming sound, the alchemist bent her legs at the knees, mirroring the guy's position. She moved forward and slid between his thighs, submerging her head into the water. Now Morgan looked like a water nymph. Her silky hair framed her face, and the gaze from beneath fluffy lashes pierced the soul like a dagger. Michael couldn't resist and ran his palm across her cheek. -"They say a mermaid can steal the heart of anyone she kisses," - he whispered, admiring her natural beauty. - "And that creature won't be able to love anyone else but her." - "I thought it was mine," -his fingers sank into her locks, unraveling the knots. - "But if a kiss can have such a strong enchantment... Would you like to have it?" Michael held his breath. As they say, still waters run deep: "I hate chains, but yes, I would. I would want the mermaid not to love anyone else and become only mine. Probably, all fools dream of it, agreeing to the temptress's proposal." - "In that, you're right, but you're not one of them," - he leisurely lathered the balm, supporting her head, distributing it from roots to tips. - "You're the almighty descendant of archivists, capable of doing anything he desires." -"Even tame a mermaid?" - the wizard gathered his hair in a fist at the nape and gently pulled towards him. - "Even tame a mermaid..." - Morgan smiled with a shadow of sadness. What could she offer him, spending her entire life with Elizabeth, studying the art of alchemy? If not for the events in the mine near the village where the girl lived, they would never have met. He is free as the wind. The whole world opens its doors to him. - "The only problem is that the mermaids haven't surrendered to me. I need one stubborn girl. You know, the alchemist's apprentice in the local shop. And I can tell you in secret that she occupies all my thoughts since the moment I saw her." - with these words, Michael raised her hand, kissing each finger as if giving her a promise. - "And can the kiss of this apprentice have the same power as that of a mermaid?" - biting her lip, the girl asked shyly. The wizard's gaze was filled with mystery and desire: "I'm afraid her kiss might be even stronger. I feel like I'm ready to kill anyone who dares to approach her." - "Then, kiss me! Please..." - Morgan leaned on her elbows, rising from the watery surface. - "Because I'm losing my mind at the thought that the man in front of me might belong to someone else but me." -"Charming, indeed. This sounds like a deal." - Michael, cautiously approached her face, cupping it with his palms. The pad of his thumb traced the outline of her sensual lips. - "Won't regret it?" The alchemist, summoning all her will, leaned forward, and resolutely covered his mouth with hers. At first, the mage tensed, surprised by her initiative. This wasn't like his perpetually blushing beloved. The kiss carried something dangerous, something ancient, more than just physical contact. The wizard felt something changing in his inner world. Invisible threads bound him to Morgan. When they finally pulled away from each other, he gazed into her eyes, and for a moment, a glimpse of amethyst flame flickered there. Was it an illusion, or had chaotic magic, obedient to his passionate desire, sealed their union? It remained unclear. They separated from each other, trying to catch their breath. - "Now we both belong to each other," he whispered mysteriously, surveying her with his eyes as if ensuring the reality of what had just happened. It was an act that unsettled him, but at the same time, his thirst to completely possess the sorceress was temporarily satisfied. It seemed that the girl did not fully understand the meaning of his words. The power unconsciously invoked by the wizard continued to surge in Morgan's veins. New sensations, like tongues of flame, burned her, igniting desire. Her own hands did not obey her. Trying to conceal shameful desires, she caressed her neat chest, as if distributing the essence that the wizard had applied to her skin. Fearful of repelling her, he carefully avoided touching her particularly sensitive areas. And it was torture. - "Michael..." - she whimpered, helplessly meeting his gaze. He gently embraced her, feeling how pliable her body had become. - "My little alchemist, are you okay?" - The girl nodded, enchanted. - "So, what do you want?" - the wizard asked, lifting her chin. - "You, Michael," - feeling an uncontrollable energy inside her, she found his hand resting on her waist and directed it upwards, outlining her forms. Morgan, with a trembling voice, dared to make a request. - "I want..." - "Morgan..." The name sounded like a desperate prayer. For him, it was more than just an admission of attraction. The archivist saw in her eyes a mix of fear and desire. Michael, despite his authoritative essence, felt that he had also become vulnerable at this moment. The wizard, familiar with magic and arcane, found himself captive of feelings that could not be fully mastered by spells. He could no longer restrain himself. When did he lose control over it? The hand confidently covering her bust became a sensation. His fingers gently caressed the areola, and that was enough to reveal her hunger. All words disappeared. Pressing the girl to his chest, Michael drew Morgan into a fiery kiss, leaning towards her with desire that penetrated through every cell of his being. His lips, full of passion, crushed hers, embodying all the excitement and emotions that boiled in their souls. The mage, enjoying the moment, withdrew from the kiss, but his hands remained on the alchemist's body, giving her a sense of belonging. - "Your chest is just lovely. So soft and hot. I don't want to leave it unattended," - he sighed, the words stirring all her senses. - "I want to see how you react to this..." His nimble fingers caught her nipple, pinching it delicately before releasing it. His palm moved in a soothing motion around the circumference of her chest, and unexpectedly returned to the nipple, closing it with the pads of his fingers to pull it upwards. - "Mmm...!" - The girl widened her eyes and bit her lip to suppress a scream. The exposed body, unfamiliar with such caresses, sharply reacted to the wizard's trick. - "What are you doing...?!" - "That sound was very... delightful. Did you like it? Should I be gentler, or can I use more force?" - His voice sounded like a daring play, as if he were a master and she a puppet in his hands. To some extent, it was not far from the truth. Michael had traveled across the country, hiding from pursuit. His experience and knowledge became weapons in his hands. Where and how he acquired them, the sorceress preferred not to think about. The main thing was that he was with her. Here and now. - "Use all your strength if you think it's necessary. I trust you," - she whispered, burying her fingers in his hair at the nape with a firm grip. - "With you, you never know what will happen next, but I have eternity to understand you." Her words sounded like a promise, and the archivist felt how the eternity she offered him became incredibly enticing. He found her lips again. From intense kisses, the skin in the corners slightly tingled, but she paid no attention, willingly accepting everything her beloved gave her. - "You can't even imagine how much I want to do with you..." - Michael smirked, like a beast sensing the weakness of its prey. He brought his lips close to her ear, whispering secrets that held unexplored realms of pleasure, revealing his essence to her. He invited Morgan to enter this magical world, where desire dictated the rules: "This is just the beginning, my little alchemist." He was like a magnet, drawing her into this dangerous dance. Gradually, they lost the sense of time, immersing themselves in a world where only the two of them existed. In the silence of the bathroom, nothing could be heard except for their heavy breaths. Hands explored the fragile form of the sorceress, sharpening all her senses, sliding lower and lower, then returning, following the natural curves. It seemed she had drunk the same infernal cocktail as he did. With each of Michael's kisses, Morgan lost a part of her sanity, but it seemed inconsequential. His hands glided over silky skin, and that was all she could think about. - "Fingers or tongue?" the wizard asked suggestively. He awaited her answer, ready to fulfill any of her desires. - "What would you prefer?" She raised her gaze, experiencing his dominance over her, her heart beating at a frantic rhythm. Morgan felt her face burning, realizing at that moment that she didn't need to choose. - "Spread your legs," - the wizard ordered, sliding his hand into the space between her thigh and knee. Supporting under the knee, he placed her foot on the edge of the bathtub, allowing her to spread even more. He thought he heard a sob from her, but completely absorbed in this moment, she followed his instructions. -"Are you shy about being so open with me? It's okay. Don't be afraid, Morgan," Michael whispered, leaning forward. His lips touched her forehead, then slowly descended to her eyes, cheeks. He rubbed against the tip of her nose and outlined the contour of pulsating lips with his tongue, kissing deeply. He enveloped her in tenderness, as if inviting her to relax. She began to melt. Meanwhile, his hand, previously inactive, embarked on a journey to the center of her femininity. Caressing her chest, he felt how well it fit in his hand, squeezing it, playing with the nipples. His hand glided over places where her energy pulsed. Passing over the soft belly, he stopped for a moment to gaze into her eyes, as if seeking answers to questions that were not customary to discuss aloud. The sorceress's head spun from mixed feelings of shame and desire. Gentle touches of his hand, as he approached her intimacy, made her body tremble with excitement. The skin in this area was the most pleasant and sensitive to the touch. Compared to other parts of her body, it was truly warm between her legs. - "You know, it's quite slippery here... And it's definitely not because of the water," - the mage slowed down, making her fully focus on the sensations. Enjoying every moment, he began to bring secret fantasies to life, deciphering desires she might not even be aware of. Michael caressed her with his fingers, as if playing an invisible instrument. The alchemist unconsciously responded to his caresses, lifting her hips and arching her lower back, feeling how each chord of his touches gave birth to unknown sensations. Attempts to restrain moans became more and more futile, and through tightly sealed lips, only muffled sighs of pleasure passed. She did try to suppress the moans, biting the wizard's neck, hiding her face in his collarbones, but she failed. With each movement, he added fuel to the fire, extracting music from her slightly open lips. Her voice flattered the guy's self-esteem, singing odes to his skillful hands. Inhibition gave way to sensual uninhibitedness. - "I want you to sing only for me..." - he whispered hotly into her ear, unable to resist the temptation, biting the lobe. His fingers fluttered on her clitoris, and he felt her breath becoming more irregular. He felt the pulsation of her passion as the touches became more intense. Everything in the room seemed so real, so saturated with smells and sounds, life. The mage became her guide into unexplored depths of pleasure, and she, like floating in this stream, completely surrendered to its flow. He, with satisfaction, looked into her misty eyes. How close she was. Skillful fingers smoothed her folds, teasing the entrance to her vagina and stretching the walls. The archivist was where he needed to be in every movement, as if reading her thoughts. Michael felt each of her attempts to escape, but he delicately held her by the waist, intertwining the fingers of his hand with hers. A couple of times, she tried to intercept his brush, trying to prevent him from finishing what he had started. It seemed that just a little more and she would explode from an excess of feelings she wanted to escape from. Yet, at this moment, she wanted nothing more than to continue this dance of magic and passion, drowning in the wizard's embrace. - "Michael!" - Morgan shouted as if his name were a spell that ignited in her soul, pulling her legs to her chest. In response, he just smiled, continuing to create vibrations in her body. Morgan felt her body so light, as if a wisp of smoke. The mage slowly raised the hand that had just caressed her and, with delight, tasted the juices of love coating his enveloping fingers. -"You are so... beautiful in this moment," -Michael whispered, breaking the silence that reigned in that bathroom. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the scent of fresh sweat mixed with the subtle aroma of passionflower that permeated her from head to toe. Morgan felt waves of pleasure rolling through her body. The wizard's hand embraced her like a talisman, providing a sense of safety and tranquility. He remained by her side, giving her the feeling of security and calmness. She immersed herself in this moment, forgetting everything except his touches and words. The whole world condensed into this bathtub, filled with passion, where he had given her the first orgasm. - "How do you feel?"- the mage touched her hair, affectionately running his fingers through the strands, untangling them. Aware of the responsibility for each of his actions, he gently comforted Morgan after the release. He whispered words of reassurance, expressing his love for the girl, which he was ready to give her. Slightly stunned, Morgan smiled at him. He offered her a drink, gently wiped her body with the now useful sponge, with no intention of getting out of the bath. The alchemist raised her hand, touching his cheek. She saw love and care in his eyes, and these feelings filled her heart with warmth. Recalling the moments spent with this mysterious wizard, the girl realized that each promise was filled with attention and sincerity. - "Now you need to take care of yourself. A soft bed is waiting for you. I'll bring you herbal tea later. Can you make it on your own?" - the archivist extended a hand with a towel prepared for wrapping. The sorceress slowly rose from the bath, covering herself with the offered fabric. She stood up, enveloped in steam, feeling her body still trembling from the experienced excitement. - "I'll manage. You're so considerate," - she said, looking into his amethyst eyes with gratitude. - "Everything for you, sweetheart," - the wizard hurriedly replied, breaking eye contact. - "Go, I'll be there soon." Her gaze wandered over his face. He behaved strangely, as if he had put on his mask of carefreeness again. -"Michael? Is everything okay?" - an unpleasant feeling of worry crept down her spine, making her return to the awareness of what was happening. - "Did I do something wrong?" Michael shook his head as if trying to get rid of something intrusive. His lips curved into the usual smirk, but this time it looked more artificial than usual, and he shook his head. - "Don't worry. You should hurry to your room. I'll clean up here and find you. Although Mime probably won't be thrilled if I stay overnight," - he said, shaking off excess water from his hands, taking her hand into his, and sealing a kiss on her wrist. - "Go rest. I'll come." - "I'm not going anywhere! At the very least, I don't want to be alone. And at most, your fake smiles won't fool me anymore. I've developed immunity to them!" - the alchemist stomped her foot in a puddle, wrinkling her nose from the sensation. The bathwater was warm, sustained by charms, and she was left to her own devices on the floor. - "Stubborn one!" - the mage's hand wearily ran over his face. - "You know, I also have, let's say, needs, and I don't want to force you into anything. Especially when you're already done. So, could you leave me alone with myself?" Confusion flickered in her eyes, and she slightly bit her lip, listening to every word Michael said. Morgan frowned, encountering his distorted facial expression, blushing like a ripe tomato when the meaning of his words dawned on her. - "Michael, I... I'm sorry," -she began nervously biting her nails. -"Let me take care of you?" - "Beautiful, I don't want you to feel obligated. You really should go to your room. It's just physiology," - he looked at her attentively, hoping that she would accept his decision favorably. - "I don't want you to feel drained after everything that happened. Just rest and relax. When you recover, I'll be there." - "I don't feel obligated! What are you even talking about?" - Now she flared up with determination, as she usually did in battles with demons. Maybe she's fighting a demon now? Her personal demon. - "I love you... and it's natural that I don't want to leave you in such a state. Let me help. Please?" Her words penetrated through the barriers he tried to set up. The wizard felt his member responding to the lover's proposal. He was pleased that she wanted to stay, but would she handle it? Michael clicked his tongue. - "Are you sure? If we start, there will be no turning back. I won't let you go until I get what I want," - he warned. - "You're warned," the archivist stood in the middle of the tub, stretching his muscles that had become stiff from the uncomfortable position, remaining knee-deep in the water. Wet pants clung to the contours of his legs, drawing attention to the compressed fabric in the groin area. - "I won't stop, even if you start begging. You have time to change your mind while I unzip my pants." The wizard's words were a warning. -"I didn't expect you to be so... authoritative," - she said. Their gazes met like lightning in the dark night, and in the next moment, the room was filled with secrets, much more intimate than ever before. Her hands reached for the edge of his trousers, clinging just above his hip bones. Her palm smoothed the skin of his taut abdomen. With trembling fingers, she slid them under the wet fabric, pulling it towards her, causing the mage to take a step towards the alchemist, approaching the edge of the bathtub. - "I'm ready for this, wherever it leads." Michael silently stared at Morgan, as if evaluating. His body tensed, responding to her daring touches. He allowed her to continue, not interrupting her movements. Amethyst eyes sparkled with passion as he brought his face closer to hers for a kiss. His tongue still carried the taste of her own lubrication, which the girl had never tasted before. It seemed the score was now tied - 1/1. - "Will you undress me yourself?" he said lowly, piercing her ears with his words. The towel fell onto the wet floor. The sorceress awkwardly tugged at the fastening of his pants, simultaneously showering his torso and shoulders with kisses. When the alchemist pulled off his wet pants along with his underwear, staring in astonishment at what was hidden underneath, Michael released a long exhale, feeling the hot pulsation of his member pressed against her body. They stood facing each other, naked and vulnerable, yet full of desire. The mage's hands slid down Morgan's back, making thousands of shivers run through her. -"What would you like me to do to you?" - his voice sounded deep and sensual. He pressed on the girl's shoulders, urging submission. - "On your knees..." Hesitating for a moment, she slowly knelt before him, her gaze directed upwards. Her chest heaved under the weight of her own breath. He stepped over the edge of the bathtub, sitting on its rim, legs spread wide. Michael smoothed her hair, affectionately running his hand over her cheek, and lifted her face by the chin. The alchemist's heart beat faster in anticipation of what would happen next, and at the very bottom of her being, an unknown pulling spasm appeared, one she wanted to get rid of as soon as possible. - "I already told you how beautiful you are," - the archivist patted his thighs, inviting her to get closer - "Put a towel under your knees, it will be more comfortable to stand." - "Michael, I..." - Morgan tried to speak, but his finger touched her lips, silencing her. - "Shh... darling. Let's talk after?" - "Now, let's see what you can do, my little alchemist. Open your mouth." - an instruction followed. The girl, sighing, obediently parted her lips. At that moment, she felt completely defenseless, yet at the same time, completely surrendered to what was happening. - "Wider." - "Stick out your sharp little tongue," Michael ordered, still directing the proceedings. His voice sounded strict, yet at the same time penetrating. - "Will your determination end here? A couple of minutes ago, you were such a bold little imp. I thought this wouldn't be difficult for you." - "Elizabeth taught me that showing the tongue to adults is impolite," - she, confused by this change in his behavior, sensed provocation in his question. At that moment, she realized that the game was going far beyond simple flirting. - "Elizabeth must have been a good mentor. But we're here now, and I'm your master," the archivist laughed heartily. - "I promise you'll like it. Just relax and trust me. Stick out your tongue, Morgan. To its full length." Trying to suppress the panic in her chest, she lowered her gaze to the floor. Her tongue protruded from her mouth. - "Good girl," - Michael gently ran the pad of his index finger along her upper lip. In the next moment, she felt him touching her tongue, playing with it. The mage slowly inserted a second finger, pushing deeper and provoking her reaction. The alchemist's cheeks reddened with excitement, but she did not resist, feeling an unfamiliar surge of arousal within herself. It seemed her thighs became sticky from the lubrication seeping from her core. When he noticed that she had started to caress his fingertips with her tongue, his eyes momentarily darkened with pleasure. The wizard sensed her moans, impossible to stifle, and decided to raise the stakes. He withdrew his fingers, stroking her hair, and slowly lowered her head, directing it towards his aroused member. The archivist waited, holding his breath, feeling the tension in the air escalating. -"Do you really want this?"- The mage hoped for her consent but, at the same time, awaited confirmation. Despite warnings that she wouldn't be let go, even if she asked for it, he wasn't a monster. In response, Morgan only nodded, unable to speak. Michael, immersed in sensations, sighed as her hand nervously slid along the inner side of his thigh, leaning on it. Her graceful fingers closed around the length of his member and made a stroking motion, gradually tightening more confidently. She lightly kissed the head, and then, holding her breath, let it enter her saliva-filled mouth, not allowing any further contact. Moisture dripped from her open lips. The mage heard the sorceress swallow and felt the hot breath scorching his flesh. - "You're doing well," - he hissed, tilting his head back. He had to make an effort not to thrust deeper. The wizard gritted his teeth, trying to hold back and not lose control. Morgan, giving an intimate massage for the first time, tried to follow his reactions, playing with rhythm and intensity, catching every sigh, every word, eager to please. She enjoyed how her touches stirred a storm of emotions in her lover's body. They seemed to encourage her to act bolder. The alchemist gradually found the right rhythm. Her eyes sparkled, and from her busy mouth, muffled moans and smacking sounds occasionally escaped. Her mouth tightly gripped his thickness, creating a pleasant pressure. Michael licked his lips, exhaling a moan of pleasure. He didn't hold back his emotions, letting them freely burst out. At some point, he squeezed her cheeks, inviting her to look up. The mage met her eyes, full of lust and devotion, and winked at her, as if thanking her for what she was doing. It seemed they had switched roles when he allowed himself to get lost in her diligent caresses, closing his eyes, as if acknowledging defeat in the face of the strength of her passion. The saliva flowing down his member became a natural lubricant. He covered her hand with his, guiding the movements according to his own desires, feeling the tension building up, approaching the point of release, everything seeming to blur in a mist of intense sensations. - "If you continue like this, I'll soon..." Rapidly approaching the moment of ecstasy, the alchemist had no intention of stopping until she brought him to the peak of bliss, just as he had done with her. The girl wanted to taste him, so she didn't release his member from the hot captivity until the last moment. Michael growled throatily, closing his eyes and immersing himself in the whirlwind of pleasure, freezing for a moment. Ejaculate released into her throat, leaving an indescribable aftertaste that couldn't be called unpleasant. Without a second thought, the sorceress swallowed, taking everything the wizard offered. Morgan, still maintaining his rhythm, did not rush to end this intimate moment. The archivist's quiet laughter filled the air when the last waves of orgasm subsided. He released her hair from his grip and gently pulled away. The girl, with a slight smile, slowly freed him from her mouth, kissing the tip of the softened penis before lowering her head, comfortably resting it on his thigh, curiously watching the wizard's reaction and not saying a word. She understood how important it was to maintain contact after intimacy and did everything to make him feel comfortable. - "You're... very capable," - the archivist slowly opened his eyes, looking at her both embarrassed and grateful. He stood up from his place and pulled the sorceress up, supporting her under the elbows, and they were face to face again. Their bodies, saturated with the scent of passion, embraced each other. Michael held her even tighter, as if afraid to lose her in that moment. - "It was amazing. Thank you for trusting." - "I'm glad I could help," - Morgan whispered, pressing even closer to him. Michael touched her cheek with a light kiss, descending to her lips with his own. They exchanged kisses, as if confirming their mutual attachment. The lovers decided to return to the bath, where warm waves enveloped their bodies. Hand in hand, they immersed themselves in the water. This time, neither the alchemist nor the wizard felt awkwardness from the close contact. In the dark-lilac water, their hot bodies merged into a single whole, creating a sense of complete unity. Michael tenderly embraced Morgan, as if trying to incorporate her into his soul. Sitting in the water, they discussed their future plans, exchanged tender kisses, and words of love. The archivist talked about his wanderings, how he sought strength for revenge, and how a chance encounter with Morgan changed his life. Only the mage's floating pants, forgotten in the heat of passion, unexpectedly interrupted their conversation. The alchemist bit her tongue, trying to contain her laughter. The mage also noticed the forgotten garment and laughed, realizing the absurdity of the situation. He freed his hand from the girl's embrace and skillfully caught the floating clothes. -"This is undoubtedly one of the strangest evenings of my life," - she remarked. - "And one of the most interesting," - the wizard continued, glancing around the bath. Allowing others here after what they had done would be a mistake. - "Would you go back in time and tell yourself that you'd spend the evening like this with me?" - "Yes... And probably wouldn't believe it myself..." - the sorceress, still laughing, nodded, sinking into contemplation. The mage wrung out the forgotten pants and tossed them aside, making sure they wouldn't get in the way. He smoothly raised Morgan's hand from the water's surface, kissing her palm. A tranquil silence filled the bath, disrupted only by the subtle splashing of water. - "I have to admit, I didn't expect everything to turn out this way," - Michael broke the silence again, trying to find the right words. - "But I'm very glad it did." - "You really are a madman, Michael,"- the girl melted, feeling the touch of his lips on her skin. - "A madman in your hands, my beauty," - Michael smirked, continuing to kiss Morgan's hand, closing his eyes and surrendering to the pleasant sensation. At that moment, there was no past or future for them—only an evening filled with magic and love.