THE 28TH DAY - DARK MATTER APOCALYPSE

"You look really appealing, Madam," I teased, watching for the reaction I knew was coming.

"Hey, can you stop that? You're not my little kid anymore, you know." Lea rolled her eyes, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

She leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice just enough for me to hear.

"You're my love now. Please keep that in mind..."

Lea hesitated for a moment, then placed her finger gently over my lips, her expression softening.

"You idiot," she murmured, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed her words.

A comfortable silence settled between us — the kind where words felt optional, and the world could pause for a second.

I smirked. "So… does that mean I win this round?"

She gave a small laugh, shaking her head. "You never stop, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you."

"Okay, my beloved son," she said with a smirk. "You really are hungry, aren't you?"

I leaned in, playfully sinking my teeth into her shoulder — not enough to hurt, just enough to make her twitch.

"Mhm, yes yes. Absolutely. Delicious,"

I muttered against her skin like a madman starved for warmth.

But underneath the teasing, I was unraveling. Deep down, I craved this — all of it. Her warmth, her presence, the familiarity of her body close to mine. It had been months.

No, maybe a year since I'd felt something this real. And now that temptation kicked in, I felt it crawl under my skin, scratching at the edges of my restraint.

Feral wasn't even the word — I was starving.

She tilted her head, amused by my descent, and traced a slow, teasing line down my chest with her finger.

"Well," she whispered, voice laced with mischief,

"I guess that experiment can wait. Maybe this one... with your body — will be more worth my time."

I caught her wrist before she could pull away, my grip firm but careful.

"Lea," I murmured, my voice barely above a breath,

"you have no idea how dangerous it is when you say things like that."

Her smile didn't waver, but something flickered in her gaze — a brief crack in the mask, as if she felt it too. The weight, the ache, the suffocating need neither of us dared to name.

"Then show me," she challenged, leaning in until her lips brushed against my ear.

"Or are you all bark now, little wolf?"

I let out a low chuckle, though it felt like my heart was threatening to shatter through my ribs.

"You keep playing with fire like this," I warned, pulling her closer,

"one of us is going to burn, but definitely not me."

Her fingers tightened around mine, and for a second — just a second — all the teasing, all the banter fell away.

What was left was raw, unspoken.

The kind of craving no experiment could explain, no joke could cover.

And maybe I was a fool for needing it this much.

But if it meant drowning in her, I was ready to dive headfirst.

"Good," she whispered. "I like a little fire, even if it's dangerous."

I didn't wait for another taunt, let alone I needed her permission.

I crashed my lips against hers, teeth clashing, hands digging into her waist hard enough to bruise. She gasped — not from pain, but from the shock of it. And when she grinned against my mouth, it only made something feral snap loose inside me.

"Mmmhh..."

The table behind us rattled as I shoved her back against it, the sharp edge biting into her hips.Her laugh was breathless, half-crazed. "That's more like it."

I didn't answer.

No, I couldn't.

Words felt meaningless now.

All that mattered was this — the scrape of nails down my back, the sting of her teeth at my throat, the way her fingers tangled in my hair like she meant to tear it out.

I wanted to ruin her after she ruined me.

The room blurred, heat rising in dizzy waves, and I couldn't tell anymore if I was chasing excruciating pain, carnal pleasure, or some twisted salvation in between.

She shoved me down to the floor, straddling me, a predatory glint in her eyes.

"Let's see how long you last before you break."

I grinned through ragged breaths.

"Try me."

And we tore into each other like animals starved for something no one else in the world could give.

This beautiful angel — the intelligent, composed woman admired by society, envied by others — had transformed into a luscious beast.

Hair clinging to her flushed skin, lips red and swollen, eyes dark with something far beyond desire. There was no Lea-the-saint here. No refined grace, no careful intellect. Just the raw, violent hunger of a creature who wanted to claim and be claimed as mine.

And God, she was beautiful like this. I preferred her true insatiable nature much more.

I'd seen her speak in numerous halls, command rooms of men twice her age, dismantled her opponents with a single, precise remark coming from her brilliant intellect.

But none of those ever compared to this raw insatiable pleasure she had.

To the way she arched against me, nails dragging jagged lines down my chest, a wicked grin splitting her perfect lips as I pounded her back and forth.

"You're mine," she breathed, voice ragged, half a snarl.

I couldn't even pretend to deny it.

Maybe I was always meant to be devoured by her. To be consumed, leaving nothing behind but a name she might someday whisper in regret.

Or else, I would've been the one who screamed for hers instead.

But right now — in this frenzy of bodies and broken restraint — that thought felt like a crime.

I pulled her down into between my knees, letting her tasting mineral and acid, the maddening sweetness that belonged to her.

And in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

It was just us.

Two monsters dressed in human skin, tearing each other apart for the sheer of it.

She didn't flinch. Didn't hesitate.

The taste hit her tongue — I realized it should've been sharp at first, a little salty, with a faint trace of something metallic underneath. Not unpleasant, just strange. A mixture of warmth and slickness, with a faint bitterness that lingered at the back of her throat like the aftertaste of a strong mineral water.

There was something unmistakably human about it.

A raw, intimate flavor that spoke of skin and sweat and the strange, electric current that lived in bodies.

She swallowed, her lips twitching in a half-smile, not because it tasted good or bad, but because it tasted like me. And maybe that was the part she craved more than anything else.

It was a private kind of indulgence — knowing a person in the way no one else did. Not by scent or sound, but by the visceral proof of them, the chemistry of our body laid bare in the most literal way possible.

And when I looked at her, breath caught in my throat, she licked her lips, the faint saltiness still clinging to us.

"How was it?"I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

"Not bad," she murmured, a teasing glint in her eye, but the edge of her smile faltered for a second — like there was more beneath that casual tone.

"Guess you really are mine now."

"Meh." I rolled my eyes, showing disinterest.

"Don't act like you don't love it," she whispered against his lips, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, drawing him closer. "You crave it, don't you? The taste of me."

My answer was a low groan, a breathless exhale as I pulled her even tighter, the space between them vanishing entirely. She could feel me — all of me, the heat, the need, the urgency — and in that moment, nothing else existed except the two of us, wrapped up in that primal, intoxicating flavor of surrender.

She met his gaze again, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

"You taste exactly like I thought you would,"

she murmured, voice low, almost reverential. "Like you."