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“Would you mind explaining what this is?” Mihawk asked, dropping several paper files on the tea table, which Perona had clearly forgotten to put away last night. He didn’t sound particularly angry. In fact, he sounded quite amused, as much as Mihawk could manage to portray emotion.
Her face turned beet-red in a second. Averting his gaze and knowing the contents of what he’d just found and read in its entirety, Perona retrieved the papers and dreaded looking at the title of the very explicit, pornographic draft she’d written the night before.
“Well… it’s a manuscript,” she said, playing fool and beaming a nervous smile.
“That I can see,” Mihawk said, crossing his arms over his chest, looking down at her. “Explain.”
Perona turned slowly, reading the first few paragraphs of her twisted fantasy she’d decided to put down on paper so she wouldn’t forget about it and could use it as jerking-off material later on. She’d never intended it to be seen by any other eyes other than her own, least of all the man she’d been writing about for the past few months. Her muse rose an eyebrow and kept looking at her, growing impatient by the minute.
“I… okay, please don’t be mad,” the Ghost Girl started, looking down at her shoes because she could just not hold his gaze at all. “I… uhm… well…”
“Cat’s got your tongue, little succubus?” he dared to mock her and had the poor girl trembling from head to toe. What was she supposed to say to that?! Mihawk had evidently read all of it and had paid enough attention to discover she had portrayed herself fucking him through the whole story.
Perona squeezed her lips shut and clutched the papers against her chest. Maybe if she kept quiet for long enough and didn’t move an inch, Mihawk would grow disinterested and he’d go away. Maybe he’d stop noticing she was sitting right in front of her and forget it ever happened.
“Is there more of it?”
“What?”
“Is there more of it?” he repeated his question and Perona could not believe her ears. At last she turned around to meet his eyes. Mihawk flashed her a brief smirk, clicking his tongue as he stood beside her and retrieved the papers from her shaking hands. “The manuscript is missing the first and second part, and you scribbled down notes for a fourth one. I assume you have hidden them somewhere so I may not find them.”
Perona hesitated, now unable to pry her eyes away from him. When she didn’t answer, Mihawk sighed in disappointment and turned on his heel towards the small cellar he kept in the library. She wasn’t so lucky as to let things go and ignore the situation. No, Mihawk was going to enjoy some Tinto de Verano while Perona went through the most embarrassing moment of her life.
“Tell me. How did the succubus seduce the priest?” he asked, raising the papers on eye-level so he could read up close. He quoted, “Was his faith so feeble he fell into temptation? Or was her infernal caress too irresistible even for the holiest of men?”
When she noticed she wasn’t escaping the interrogation, Perona went into flight mode, deflecting and getting defensive to avoid giving him a straight answer. Changing her tactics, she shrugged and smiled, arching her brows and giving him a pitiful look.
“What? You thought this was about you, Hawk Eyes? Bold of you to assume I’d waste my time fantasizing about someone as boring and bland like you,” she feigned with a mocking tone, but the tremble on her voice and the fact that she was sweating like a sinner in a church.
“I must admit I was surprised,” he said as he poured two glasses of wine, drinking from his own and placing one in front of her, “your penmanship is quite impressive. Great use of metaphors and religious symbolism. A personal favorite of mine was your parable to refer to the priest’s… colossal candle, dripping wax as it burned with a sacred flame.”
Perona gasped and reached out for the glass of wine, drinking the entirety of its content in one swing. It didn’t help her case, her cover now completely blown. Even if this wasn’t about her writing religious erotica with Mihawk and herself as the main characters, he had just read one of the filthiest, raunchiest stories she’d ever dared to put down in paper.
Mihawk finished his wine, letting out a satisfied groan, then he put his glass down and began pacing in circles around the sofa, like a big black cat stalking a cute, pink mouse. Smirking and eternally amused to be torturing her like this, he quoted:
Down on her knees, the demon licked her crimson lips, her serpentine bipartite tongue dripping with poison, tarnished with the taste of apples and pommegranates from the primeval garden. Her kiss drove the priest into madness, who slowly spread his lips and limbs to let her in, to embrace her. Her digits trailed towards his waist, untying the belt keeping his modesty together, letting it pool down on the chair. Bared before her, she marked him, leaving unholy symbols of her newfound devotion for mortal flesh. The poisonous tongue then…
“STOP!” Perona yelled, burying her face on her palms. She couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, he’d gone too far and she didn’t know how to deal with it any longer. “Stop, please, please, I’m sorry, I’ll burn it down, okay?”
Mihawk surprised her because Perona hadn’t heard him approach, stepping in front of her. He held her wrists with a touch far gentler than he should be allowed to, prying her arms open so he could force her to face him. Her initial resistance melted as Mihawk leaned down on the sofa, resting both arms on the backrest and caging her in his arms.
“Why would you do that?” Mihawk asked. Perona blinked, then blurted some nonsense trying to find her words. When she found none, he continued: “I’m being serious. The prose is marvelous, and even if it wasn’t, you should never feel ashamed of your desires.”
Perona blinked once. Twice. Then she realized she was staring at him like an idiot, her eyes trailing down to the cupid’s bow of his lips, the chiseled line of his jaw, the deep glisten of his gorgeous eyes and… she was getting derailed.
“You’re not mad?”
“I’m flattered.”
“But I just… wrote all that. It’s disrespectful.”
“I wasn’t supposed to see it. I am just as guilty for reading your private musings. I do have a single question, though…” he grabbed her chin and tilted her head upwards, almost brushing her lips as he whispered, “You want to fuck me that bad, Perona?”
She felt like her brain had just short-circuited, but Mihawk held her face in place as she tried to look away again. The smirk didn’t disappear from his lips, but he waited patiently for her to respond. As Perona kept on hesitating, he decided to take control again, and pressed his thumb against her bottom lip. The Ghost Girl inadvertently rolled her eyes back, coming undone at the mere gesture of him prying her mouth open. Perona tried to compose herself right afterwards, but at that point she was completely lost, panting and gasping with her cheeks burning up. She curled into herself and crossed her legs to stop her heat from twitching with expectation. Then, at a complete loss as to what she was supposed to do next, she sheepishly nodded.
“Then do tell… what was Part I and II about?”
“There's… they’re not… its an anthology,” she finally admitted, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid his penetrating stare. “They’re short… uhm… erotic stories, revolving around the priest...”
“Am I your muse for all of them?” he asked in a low purr.
Perona nodded again, squirming.
“But you do not wish to tell me about the content, correct?”
“I can’t!” she finally blurted out, feeling like a pressure cooker about to burst, “I write them because I cannot bring myself to talk about them out loud, least of all… do any of that! I’m… I’m too shy to even-”
“Then don’t,” he interrupted her, releasing Perona’s face as he knelt before her. “Don’t speak. Just guide me through the scene.”
“What?”
“Pretend I’m the same character that you write down on paper. Guide me as you do him.”
“I can’t do that!” Perona snapped, hiding behind her hands again.
Mihawk sighed, rolling his eyes and showing he was starting to grow exasperated with her. If she wasn’t willing to share her ideas, Mihawk might as well pull them out of her mind for her. Grabbing her wrists, he forced her to open them again and then released her. Then, he held her by the knees and took one of her legs, stretching it and kissing it from her ankle to the inside of her calf.
“If you don’t, I’ll write Part IV for you. I have enough guidelines with whatever you scribbled on the margins of your manuscript, but I’d rather remain the muse rather than the author.”
“Fuck…” Perona cursed under her breath, then nodded with a tad bit more resolve than before. “Part IV is about a miracle,” she explained, “about an open, deadly wound that no longer bleeds, but does not kill the woman who seeks the priest’s aid to heal. When he inspects the wound, he becomes enraptured and…”
“…and the priest then pries the wound open to inspect it,” Mihawk finished when Perona hesitated. His fingers followed the trail of her stockings, crawling towards the crucible between her legs. “He digs his fingers deep, but remains skeptical. The wound should be causing pain, not pleasure…”
Mihawk’s hands reached towards her skirt, burying themselves beneath the ruffles. His fingers curled around the elastic of her underwear, slowly pulling it aside. Perona’s breath hitched, crying out as his fingers pried her open, deliriously patient, spreading her labia to reach inside. Perona squirmed, shutting her eyes and flinching as he pushed deeper. As he explored her, he slowly removed her underwear, barely moving his fingers away for a second.
“…then, still incredulous, he kisses the open wound and tastes glory on her flesh, where the divine becomes manifest. His sweet sin, the woman before him sings melodies as she unravels…”
“Oh heavens, you did read my notes…” Perona gasped, chuckling with nervous laughter that soon transformed into a moan when Mihawk latched his lips on her clit, then removed his fingers and slowly traced his tongue across her slit. Running it across her entrance, he returned to her nub and sucked on it, groaning as he tasted her, oh so slowly Perona could barely form a coherent thought.
“What happens next?” he muttered against her flesh before licking her again.
“Damn it, Hawk Eyes, I don’t know…” Perona said, leaning back on the sofa and rocking her head backwards. “He makes her cum, I don’t fucking…”
Mihawk forced her open with two fingers as if to make a statement she should start thinking of something, or he would start to get creatively rougher. He exposed her clit to make it pop up, then licked at it repeatedly, making Perona cry against her forearm. Doubtful, she raked her fingers on his hair, pulling him forth. He took her cue and began increasing his pace, if only a little, as he devoured her whole until she finished, him kneeling before her, caught between her legs. As she writhed with pleasure, Mihawk held her hips to keep her in place, drinking from her and refusing to let go. Elated as if he was the one being pleasured instead, he groaned against her flesh.
“What happens next?” he asked again, panting for breath as he parted from between her legs and stood on his feet once more.
“The priest, mad with lust, takes the maiden to the altar to practice the holy sacrament.”
Mihawk smirked, satisfied with her answer at last and kissing her, allowing Perona to taste herself on his lips. He cradled her in his strong arms, pulling her forth until he was practically carrying her to the bedroom.
“Are you going to tell me what Part I and II are about or not?”
“A nun breaking her vow of chastity and an exorcism, respectively,” Perona moaned, holding onto his neck for support as he held her by the waist and pulled her forwards towards him. “Part V is a crucifixion, though…”
Mihawk stopped for a second, raising his eyebrows as he looked at her with amusement.
“Let’s just finish this chapter tonight, shall we?”