Chapter 471: No One Can Compare To You

Mika’s heart soared—but he couldn’t show it. Not yet. He needed to play this carefully, to draw her in without scaring her away.

So, his expression changed. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face—regret perhaps or second thoughts. He looked away.

"You know what? Forget it, Nadia."

She blinked. "What?"

"I think I went a little too far. Overshared." He chuckled, but it was strained, self-conscious. "We’re talking about random, weird stuff, and my mood just...went in a completely different direction. I started saying things I shouldn’t say."

He shook his head, as if clearing it.

"Let’s just forget it. Leave it alone. Pretend I never mentioned it."

Nadia’s response was immediate. She turned fully on his lap, facing him, her hands gripping his shoulders.

"No, Mika. It’s all right. Just...go on. Please."

He frowned, still playing reluctant.

"Nadia, it’s inappropriate. The thoughts that cross my mind sometimes—things I would never say out loud—they’re not something I should be sharing. They’re...taboo. Embarrassing."

"I don’t care about that, Mika." Her voice was firm, insistent. "You can trust me. I won’t judge you. I just want to know what you have to say."

He looked at her, his expression wavering.

"You know how I am." She continued, squeezing his shoulders. "Normally, I don’t pry into things like this. I give you space. I respect your boundaries. But I’m already in too deep. You’ve already mentioned it, and now I won’t be able to stop thinking about it. It’ll eat at me."

She leaned closer, her face inches from his.

"So, please, Mika. Tell me. I want to know what’s been on your mind."

Mika’s face twisted—a perfect mask of reluctant surrender. He let the silence stretch, let her anticipation build, let her practically vibrate with the need to know.

Then, slowly, he sighed.

"Fine, Nadia. Fine." He shook his head. "I don’t want to do this. But you’re insisting, and I don’t want you messing up this meeting because you’re distracted. So I’ll tell you."

Her face lit up.

"But please—don’t judge me."

"Of course not." She promised eagerly. "I won’t tell anyone. I won’t think badly of you. Just go ahead. Say what you have to say."

The moment the words left her mouth, the hesitation and reluctance vanished from Mika’s face.

A bright, dangerous glint appeared in his dark eyes, and his lips curved into a completely different grin—one that was confident and full of intent.

It immediately made Nadia feel a shiver of threat, as if she had just walked straight into a carefully laid trap.

Mika pulled her even closer, one arm wrapping firmly around her waist while his mouth hovered near her ear, voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper that sent another shiver racing down her spine.

"If that really is the case, and you really won’t think of me badly...then I guess I don’t have to hold back anymore, Nadia."

She felt something was very wrong—she had definitely fallen into something she shouldn’t have—but before she could protest, he continued.

"There honestly isn’t much to say about this. It’s quite simple. Just like I said earlier, I have a strong preference for older, more mature women."

His breath brushed against the shell of her ear, making it grow hot.

"Not only are they gentle and refined, they know exactly what they want. They can take care of you, coddle you in return, and wrap you in their soft embrace..."

His voice dropped lower, rougher.

"They also have soft, plump bodies. Bodies you can hold like this..." His arms tightened around her. "...and feel like you’re being enveloped in a blanket of warmth."

Nadia’s breath came faster. The barrier around them trembled.

"But even with all the older women I’ve been with, I was never truly satisfied."

He shook his head slowly.

"There was always something missing. Something pulling me away from the moment. Even when I was inside them, pressing their bodies against mine, feeling their heat..."

He paused, letting the words hang.

"I could never truly be satisfied. Because they weren’t what I was looking for."

"They weren’t...who I truly wanted."

Nadia’s heart stopped. She understood the implication, even as her mind rejected it. It was impossible.

It was wrong. It was—

"Who?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Who was missing, Mika?"

He looked at her.

And his eyes—his eyes were filled with love. With longing. With a hunger that made her thighs press together.

"You, Nadia."

She gasped. The barrier shuddered.

"It’s you I always thought about. Every time I was pounding away at one of those women, it was your face I saw. Your body I imagined beneath me."

The barrier shook violently.

"When it comes to a choice between you and every other woman I’ve ever been with—there’s no competition. You win. Every time."

He cupped her chin, tilting her face up.

"I mean, just look at you, Nadia. Just look at yourself. How could any man possibly choose anyone else over you?"

His thumb traced her lower lip.

"Your face alone would make most men in the world sell their souls just to look like you for a day."

A faint blush spread across her cheeks.

"I know you rarely show emotion. You’re like a frozen pond most of the time." He smiled. "But when you do show it, when you blush like you’re blushing right now, you look absolutely ravishing."

"Something that would make even the gods jealous."

She touched her cheek, surprised to feel the heat there.

His eyes darkened.

"And it’s not just your face." His gaze traveled down her body. "It’s everything. All those other women I’ve been with—they have wonderful bodies. Slender, plump, soft. Some have tails, wings, horns."

"...But none of them can compare to you, Nadia."

His hands moved to her shoulders, sliding down her arms, pinning them gently to her sides. She tried to shrink away, but he held her firm, pressing her forward until her chest was pushed out, her breasts prominent against the fabric of her dress.

He stared at them.

"Just look at these beautiful mounds of flesh, Nadia."

His hands closed over her breasts.

She gasped.

"So pale. So soft. Like two snowy mountains—except these mountains aren’t hard and cold. They’re soft. Bouncy." He squeezed gently, and she felt her body respond in ways she couldn’t control. "Like clouds resting on top of mountain peaks."

The barrier shook even more visibly.

"Breasts like these." He murmured, still groping her through her dress. "I could play with them all day and never think about another woman. These are my ideal breasts on a mature woman."

He smiled, almost teasing.

"Of course, even on mountains this soft, there are a few places that are quite hard. Right about...here."

His fingers found her nipples.

She jolted.

He circled them slowly, through the fabric of her dress and bra, and she felt electricity shoot through her entire body.

Her mouth opened, but only one word came out.

"Mika..."

It was barely a whisper, but it made the barrier tremble.

She knew that if she said anything else, if she let out the sound building in her throat—the shield would shatter.

The building would collapse. The city would feel it.

So, she bit her lip and held it in.

And he didn’t stop.

"I can’t tell if it’s your bra or if your nipples are actually getting hard." He mused, still teasing them. "But something is definitely getting hard here."

She couldn’t respond. Couldn’t think. Could only feel.

Then, mercifully, he pulled his hands away.

But he didn’t stop touching her.

His hands slid down to her waist, caressing gently, feeling the curve of her through the fabric.

"Look at this waist." He said, almost reverently. "I’ve slept with Lamia women before. They’re famous for their slender, elastic waists—they can twist in any direction, which makes for all sorts of interesting positions in bed."

He massaged her belly, his fingers warm even through her dress.

"But even they can’t match this waist of yours. A human woman, and you have a waist that’s more attractive, more elastic, than a Lamia’s."

He squeezed gently.

"I could just grab you here..." His hands tightened. "...and lift you up. Do all sorts of things with you. Just from holding your waist alone."

Her body was on fire. The barrier around them had begun to crack. Mika noticed, and with a small gesture, thickened it, reinforced it, made it stronger.

Then his hands slid lower.

Down her hips, down her thighs, until they rested on the plush curve of her legs. He squeezed, stroked, caressed—and she let him. She couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t even think about stopping him.

He then pushed the hem of her dress up, revealing her bare thighs.

She tried to push it back down, but he caught her hands, held them aside, and continued pulling the fabric up until her legs were completely exposed.

He then spread them apart.

"These thighs." He said, squeezing the soft flesh. "Plump. Soft. Amazing." He stroked them, from knee to hip, over and over. "Do you know how many positions I could put you in with thighs like these? How many ways I could fold you, wrap you around me, lose myself inside you?"

She couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.

The barrier cracked again.

He reinforced it again.

And then he looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire.

"And of course..."

He murmured, as his hands slid down to her hips, then around to the curve of her bottom. He cupped both cheeks from the sides, squeezing firmly, and she jerked in his grasp.

"...how could I ever forget about this fat ass?"