A profound sense of awe washed over me as I allowed my gaze to, slowly, deliberately trace the contours of his transformed body. It was as if a sculptor had meticulously chiseled every plane and curve, refining him into something breathtaking. From the sharp, elegant definition of his cheekbones, catching the soft light in intriguing ways, my eyes drifted down to the strong, prominent line of his jaw, a testament to a newfound resilience. Lower still, the sculpted landscape of his abdomen unfolded, each muscle a clearly defined ridge and valley, a stark contrast to the softer form I remembered. This transformation, this rebirth of his physical being, surpassed even the wildest imaginings that had flickered through my mind.
For a long moment, I remained rooted to the spot, lost in the sheer artistry of his altered state. It was a captivating study in contrasts – the vulnerability of his unconscious form juxtaposed with the undeniable power now etched into his physique. Finally, shaking myself from this entranced state, I realized the need to clear my own thoughts and to process the implications of this… change. A bath seemed the most immediate and effective solution.
The warm water enveloped me, a soothing balm against the lingering tension of my encounter with my mother. I allowed the steam to rise around me, carrying away the remnants of the clan house and its weighty pronouncements. Yet, even in the relative tranquility of my bathing chamber, the image of the boy on my bed, his newfound physicality, lingered at the edges of my awareness.
Stepping out of the water, I toweled myself dry, my gaze instinctively drawn to the large, ornate mirror that adorned one wall. I studied my own reflection, critically assessing the flawless expanse of my skin, searching for any imperfection that might have dared to surface. Satisfied, I dropped the towel, allowing my body to be fully exposed to the cool air of the room.
It was then, in the mirrored reflection, that I saw him. Xavier was no longer prone on the bed. He was sitting up, his back against the intricately carved headboard, his eyes still closed as if clinging to the remnants of sleep. But something else in the reflection caught my attention, a subtle protrusion beneath the fabric of his trousers. An undeniable awareness bloomed within me, a primal understanding of what that subtle tent indicated.
Slowly, deliberately, I turned from the mirror, my gaze locking onto his still-closed eyes. A strange sense of anticipation coiled within me. He remained oblivious to my scrutiny, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of slumber. Then, his eyelids fluttered, and his eyes, the color of warm earth, finally opened, meeting mine directly.
A flicker of surprise, quickly followed by a jolt of shock, registered in his gaze. Perhaps he had assumed that a creature like me was incapable of such a human expression as a smile. A small, involuntary curve touched my lips, a genuine, if fleeting, amusement at his reaction.
I took a step closer, the soft carpet muffling my movements. With each subsequent step, I saw a hint of panic begin to bloom in his eyes, widening with a dawning realization of his vulnerable state and my proximity. He instinctively recoiled, a subtle tightening of his muscles betraying his unease.
Without a word, I reached the edge of the bed and pushed him back against the pillows, the surprise evident in the way his breath hitched. Then, with a deliberate and undeniably provocative movement, I straddled his lap, settling my weight against him.
The immediate physical response was undeniable. Beneath me, I felt the unmistakable hardening of his arousal pressing against my inner thighs, a tangible manifestation of his awakening desire. A thrill, sharp, and intoxicating coursed through me. An idea sparked, a desire to explore this newfound connection, to test the boundaries of his reactions.
I began to move my waist, a slow, deliberate undulation against his burgeoning erection. A low moan escaped his lips, a raw sound that spoke of both discomfort and an undeniable pleasure. The conflict in his expression, a mixture of pain and burgeoning delight, was fascinating to observe.
My hands trailed upwards, lightly teasing his nipples through the thin fabric of whatever shirt he now wore – a garment I hadn't noticed before. His breath hitched again, and his pleasure became more pronounced, his head falling back against the headboard.
Emboldened, I reached down, my hand now directly caressing the hard dick beneath his trousers. The fabric offered little resistance to my touch, and I felt the insistent throb of his arousal against my palm. Still seated astride him, I began to move my hand in rhythm with the seductive sway of my hips. His body beneath me tensed, his muscles contracting and releasing as the pleasure intensified. His hips began to lift instinctively, mirroring my movements. His breath came in ragged gasps, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. It wasn't long before the subtle tremors began, culminating in the unmistakable release that pulsed against my hand.
As the last shudders subsided, I slowly dismounted him, a strange sense of satisfaction mingling with a burgeoning curiosity. Before I could fully process the encounter, his hands shot out, gripping my waist with surprising strength. He pulled me down, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of my neck.
A jolt of unexpected sensation shot through me. The warmth of his breath, the slight rasp of his lips against my skin, ignited a response within me that I hadn't anticipated. A low thrum began to resonate deep within my core. The harder his kisses became, the more insistent his touch, the more my own body began to react, a forgotten language stirring within my ancient veins.
His mouth trailed a fiery path down my neck, across my collarbone, until it reached the swell of my breast. A gasp escaped my lips as his lips closed over my nipple, the sensation both intense and unfamiliar. He continued his descent, his other hand now holding me firmly against his chest, effectively preventing any attempt to move away.
Then, his fingers found the juncture of my thighs, and a new wave of sensation washed over me. As his fingers delved deeper, exploring intimacies I had only vaguely comprehended, a pleasure unlike anything I had ever experienced bloomed within me, radiating outwards, consuming me. I could feel the subtle shifts in his touch, the deliberate exploration, and I realized with a jolt that he was deriving a distinct satisfaction from the expressions that flickered across my face – the widening of my eyes, the involuntary arch of my back, the soft moans that escaped my lips. In that moment, a new and complex layer was added to the strange dynamic that had sprung up between us.