Continuing The Journey and The Happy Pervert

Mikhailis let out a contented sigh, leaning back against the cool stone of the cavern wall. His body still ached, but the pain was dulled by the lingering warmth of the meal—or, more specifically, the way it had been delivered. Cerys had shown an uncharacteristic boldness, feeding him with a mix of care and playful daring that had grown each day. It had started with simple spoonfuls, her hand steady and precise, her movements efficient and almost indifferent. Yet, as time passed, those moments had shifted—her hand would linger just a fraction longer, her touch softer, her gaze betraying a hint of hesitation that spoke volumes. And then there were the times she leaned closer, her lips meeting his to pass a bite, the unexpected intimacy sending his heart racing.