Chapter 193: It’s Taboo...But I Don’t Care
The question came at her like a whiplash, slapping her right in the face.
One moment, they were talking about intimacy and closeness, and she felt hot, warm, and very loved.
The next, Mika suddenly went and talked about sucking her breasts and licking her nipples, which completely caught her off guard.
Her face went as red as a tornado, and she looked up at Mika with a look of disbelief.
Did he really just say that? Was she dreaming?
She felt utterly flustered and panicked, not expecting that question at all.
Mika, however, remained utterly calm. He watched her reaction, the subtle dance of shock and desire across her features, with a lazy, knowing satisfaction. Her panic, though genuine, was exactly what he’d expected.
He knew he had to act fast, to anchor her before the shock fully tipped into full-blown rejection. His smile softened, transforming from the sly, teasing curve to something genuinely, almost paternally, soothing.
"Calm down, Yelena. Just calm down." He murmured, like the deep purr of a great cat.
The sound itself, combined with the solid, grounding pressure of his hands, worked an immediate, almost physiological magic. For some inexplicable reason, just the feel of his skin against hers could still the frantic rhythm of her fear.
"Just listen to me for a moment." He continued, his eyes locked on hers, demanding her focus. "Before you go off making assumptions about what I’m saying, just let me finish my piece first."
He leaned back slightly, still holding her hands.
"Just think about it, Yelena. Really think about last night. The memory you’re holding onto so tightly, the one that makes you feel so special, so close to me...how long did it really last?"
He didn’t wait for her to answer, his gaze already mapping out the moment in his mind.
"I barely had my tongue and lips on it for a couple of seconds before...well, before everything else happened and Charlotte it came barging in." Mika gave a quick, rueful shake of his head. "It was barely a kiss. It was just a small little lick. A flash. And that was all. Everything got over too soon."
He frowned, leaning closer with an indignant, almost wounded look.
"How was that enough? Tell me honestly, how was that tiny second-long caress enough for you to truly remember it years from now? A deep, passionate kiss on the mouth—yes, that’s something you anchor your mind to."
"But something like that, something so fleeting...it’s exciting—yes, it’s passionate in the moment, but eventually, as time goes on, you’ll completely forget the texture of it."
"The feel of my mouth there. The exact, perfect way your nipple tasted and hardened against my tongue. That is what I don’t want for you."
He settled his gaze on her, his voice dropping to a serious, persuasive tone that brooked no argument.
"Since you want to feel special, since you don’t want to feel jealous—you need to hold onto that feeling. You need to cement that knowledge of why you are my special one...And that won’t work if that feeling, if that precise, intimate memory, fades away in the future."
"That’s why I want to clear it up right now. That’s why I want to give you a nice, proper kind of sucking and kissing on your nipple, like I should have done last night, so that you will never, ever forget that feeling."
"Just think about it like this..." Mika used a simile he knew would appeal to her tactical, pragmatic nature. "...the kiss I gave you last night was like putting a blowtorch over a steel bar."
"In that very moment, the bar of steel will be incredibly, intensely hot. It will burn to the touch. But as time goes on, as the minutes tick by, it will eventually cool down, all the way until it is stone cold and dead...Your memory, Yelena, is the same."
"In that moment, it felt impactful, yes. But with the passage of time, with the distraction of your sisters and your other duties, you will eventually, completely forget the detail, the sensory truth of it. And that is something, I cannot allow. I want to change that up. I want to give you a memory that you will never, ever forget...if you understand what I’m trying to say."
He stopped speaking, his eyes holding hers, patiently waiting for her answer, his expression the picture of a man offering a logical, necessary solution.
Yelena, on the other hand, was slowly sinking beneath the weight of his argument, and the dark storm of her own desire. Her mind, even now, was stubbornly fighting his premise.
’He’s wrong.’ A small, rational voice insisted. ’He’s completely, utterly wrong.’
The memory of his lips closing over her nipple, the wet heat, the sudden, electric pull that had shot straight to the deepest, most sensitive part of her, that memory was not fading.
It was a brand—a permanent mark on her soul, a moment she knew with fierce, absolute certainty she would take to the grave. It had been, contrary to his assertion, monumentally impactful.
His logic was basically null.
But even as the denial formed in her thoughts, her body rebelled against it. The sudden, explicit mention of sucking had been like a key turning in a lock she’d been trying to keep sealed all day.
Ever since he had done it, her nipple had been an aching, tender point of pure physical need. It would rub against the fine silk of her dress, and she’d feel a sharp, frustrating twinge, a dull, insistent ache.
She had tried to ignore it, to soothe it with polite disregard, but the ache had only built up, tightening her chest with an almost unbearable tension.
It had grown so bad that, in a moment of utter shame and desperation, she’d retreated to the privacy of her bathroom, trying to finger her own nipples, to pinch them, to provide the satisfaction her body was demanding.
But it had been useless. Her own touch was clumsy, lacking the hungry, authoritative suction of his mouth.
And the situation had only been made a hundred times worse when she had caught a glimpse of her daughter earlier. Mika had been holding her daughter’s face with one hand, her daughter’s gown open, and he had been thoroughly engrossed in suckling her breast.
The sight, which she had witnessed with a mix of revulsion and utterly consuming, shameful jealousy, had set her on fire. She had been forced to avert her eyes, but the mental image, the sight of her daughter’s head thrown back, the soundless tug of his mouth, the intense focus on that delicate flesh, had only amplified her own longing.
She wanted that. She wanted his mouth to pull and tug on her breasts, to bite and suck them out with the same savage focus he had shown her daughter.
’It’s wrong.’ Her rational mind screamed. ’It is so wrong. We shouldn’t do this. It’s taboo.’
But here he was. Mika. He was not just offering the experience; he was insisting on it.
He was giving her a perfectly plausible, logical, and even proud excuse: to secure her superiority over her sisters.
He was providing the morality, the justification she could wrap around her own darkest, most taboo desires.
It felt like a gift from the gods of depravity and the wrongness of it, the delicious transgression—only made the thought of accepting feel overwhelmingly, intoxicatingly right.
The need to secure her place, to have an undeniable, physical, and unforgettable claim on him that her sisters, did not possess, was the most powerful narcotic she had ever known.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally looked up, her gaze shaky but resolute, meeting his. Her lips parted, and she spoke, choosing her words carefully, mimicking his self-assured, logical tone.
"Y-Yes...You’re...actually correct, Mika."
She said, her voice trembling slightly, but firming on the words. She even managed a small, indignant shake of her head.
"If I really went on like this, I would forget the memory. And that..." She insisted, injecting a note of fierce competitiveness. "...is not something I can allow. I need to be on top of all my sisters. I will not give them a moment of satisfaction. I have to be treated like the special one, and I can’t allow for anything to jeopardize that."
She dropped her gaze again, fiddling nervously with the hem of her dress, her cheeks still blazing.
"That’s why...I’d like to go ahead with what you said." She whispered, her voice barely a breath. "This time, I’d like you to give me a proper experience...One that I won’t forget at all."
Hearing this, a slow, profoundly satisfied smile spread across Mika’s face.
Every piece of his calculated manipulation had fallen into place. She hadn’t just agreed; she had justified the act using his own carefully crafted logic, framing her taboo desire as a necessary act of competitive preservation.
She had, in effect, asked for it herself.
But he wasn’t done yet, he wanted to summon that raw, unfiltered feeling in her heart, to hear her speak her desires with unapologetic clarity.
So, instead of moving forward, he leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear, creating an intimate cluster that made her pulse race.
"Yelena." He said, his voice low and teasing. "I need you to be more direct. No dancing around it. Tell me exactly what you want, right here, right now. Say it clear as day."
"W-What?" Yelena’s eyes widened, her cheeks flaming as she leaned back on the desk, flustered. "Mika, come on, you already know what I mean!"
She stammered, trying to brush it off.
"There’s no need to make me spell it out. You know what you’re supposed to do!"
"No, Yelena, that’s not how this works. I want to hear it properly."
He shook his head, his expression firm but playful, a custom smirk tugging at his lips.
"This isn’t some light thing we can just ignore, it’s heavy, and we both need to understand the weight of it, the consequences. I want you to say, in your own words, exactly what you want me to do. If you don’t—I’m stopping right here, and this is over."
Her heart stuttered, caught off guard by his ultimatum.
This was her chance to back out, to end this taboo spiral before it went further.
If she refused, shook her head, and said no, she could walk away, free from the shameful pull of this moment.
But the thought of stopping now, of losing this connection, this forbidden thrill, ached in her chest like a physical wound. She didn’t want it to end, not now, not when she was so close to something she couldn’t even fully name.
So, building her courage, she met his gaze, her face fiery with determination, like a squirrel puffing up to face a challenge.
"Fine, fine, I’ll say it, you big bully!" She huffed, her voice trembling but resolute as she went on to confess, "I-I want you to...kiss and suck my nipples, Mika. Slowly, thoroughly. I want you to do it like you mean it, like it’s everything."
"Good start, but it’s not enough." Mika’s eyes narrowed, a teasing glint sparking in them. "I want a proper, thorough confession."
"...Tell me exactly what you want, Yelena. One last chance, if I’m not satisfied, I’m walking away right now."
She bit her lip, glaring at him like she wanted to yank his ear for pushing her like this.
"You’re such a jerk , you know that?" She muttered, her voice full of frustration and fluster.
But she knew he had her cornered, his control over the moment absolute. Swallowing her pride, she looked at him, her cheeks burning, her voice shaking with a mix of shame and resolve.
"Fine, Mika...T-To be more special than my sisters, to mean more to you than anyone else, I’m willing to do anything, no matter how wrong it is, no matter how bad, no matter who’s watching...E-Even if it means you sucking my breasts, licking my nipples, I don’t mind. I-I want it!"
"I want you to do it aggressively, thoroughly, passionately. I w-want your tongue to swirl over my nipples, to bite them, to suck them with all the desire in the world."
"I want to be your mother in that moment, and I-I want you to be my b-baby, sucking like they’re giving milk, like you can’t get enough."
She panted, her words spilling out in a rush, her face crimson as she finished.
"There—I said it! It’s too much—but I said it, you jerk!"
Mika blinked, genuinely surprised by the raw honesty in her words, then burst out laughing, the sound warm and teasing.
"God, Yelena, you’re so damn adorable when you’re honest!" He reached out, tugging gently at her cheeks, making her squeak in protest. "You really went all out, didn’t you? So cute when you’re flustered like that."
"Just be quiet, Mika!" She snapped, swatting his hands away, her face still burning. "I did what you wanted, okay? I said it all, poured my heart out, embarrassed myself to death. Now it’s your turn to do your part, so stop laughing and get to it!"
"Fine, fine." He said casually, his grin wide and playful. "But first, you’ve gotta strip. Show me those beautiful breasts of yours. Lift them up for me. I can only give them the love they need if they’re right in front of me."
But hearing this, Yelena’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in her gaze.
"Wait a second. Isn’t the guy supposed to take the girl’s clothes off in a situation like this?" She caught herself, flushing deeper. "I mean, not that it’s that kind of situation! It’s...conditional, you know? Different! But still, shouldn’t you be the one doing it?"
Mika smirked, leaning back with a lazy confidence.
"Normally, yeah, that’s how it goes. But I’d rather watch you do it, Yelena. It’d be...tantalizing. Like a little strip show just for me. I want you to bare yourself for me, that’s so much better then me taking your clothes off."
"You’re such a perv, Mika...God knows who you got it from, since it definitely didn’t come from me."
She huffed, crossing her arms, her blush spreading to her ears.But his teasing gaze melted her resistance.
With a shaky breath, she reached for the straps of her dress, slowly pulling it down, revealing her full breasts still contained in her lacy bra, her lower half still clothed. She then glanced at Mika, his eyes wide with awe and anticipation, and the look bolstered her confidence.
Her fingers trembled as she reached behind her back, fumbling for the clasp, breath catching when the bra finally gave way. The straps slipped down her arms, the fabric dropping to the floor with a whisper, and her breasts spilled free—plump, creamy, soft enough to tempt a saint, tipped with perfect pink nipples that had already hardened from the mix of air and anticipation.
They stood out against her smooth skin like little beacons, sensitive and flushed, aching to be touched.
Her hands came up instinctively, cradling them, lifting them slightly, as if weighing the desire in her palms. She pressed them together with her fingers, pushing the soft mounds up just enough to make them bounce faintly, the nipples brushing her own skin and making her flinch, looking at him with pride and shyness like she was asking what he thought about them.
And in response, Mika crouched down, his eyes drinking her in with unabashed admiration. He then couldn’t hold himself back and reached out, gently poking one breast, then tugging lightly, making them jiggle softly.
"I didn’t get to say it last night, Yelena, but these...they’re breathtaking." He said, his voice full of worship. "So full, so plump, like they were made to be worshipped. And these nipples..." He brushed a thumb over one, making her gasp, her body jolting with the sensation. "So cute, so pink, practically begging for my mouth."
"Stop it, Mika!" Yelena laughed despite herself, swatting his hand. "You don’t need to go on about them like that!"
But her smile betrayed her amusement, her heart fluttering at his words.
"I mean...okay, I like it when you praise me. It makes me feel...proud, even if it’s something silly like my breasts. But it’s too much! I’m already dying of embarrassment here."
"Just do what you promised...Use your lips for something other than talking."
She said, her voice dropping to a shy whisper, her eyes flickering with anticipation.
"Yeah, I agree with that."
Mika’s grin deepened, eyes gleaming with heat as he dipped lower, his breath fanning hot across her chest. He hovered for a moment, close enough for her nipple to twitch from the nearness alone—then finally brushed his lips against it, barely there, a maddening tease that made her stomach clench.
Then he took it in—his mouth closing around the peak in a firm, wet suck that pulled a sharp gasp from Yelena’s throat.
"Lick!♡~ Mmph!♡~ Ahh!♡~ Suck!♡~"
"Ahh—Mika!" Her back arched before she could stop herself, hips twitching, her hands flying to his head. Her fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tight, dragging him closer like she needed him to devour her.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her skin as he drew her nipple deeper between his lips, tongue flicking lazily, then circling, then flattening against it in a wide, hot swipe that made her whole body jolt.
"Mmm!♡~ Ahhh!♡~ Slurp!♡~ Nnn!♡~"
She could feel the pull of his mouth echo deep in her lower half—tightening, pulsing and when his teeth grazed her just slightly, teasing the edge of too much, her breath hitched in a ragged moan.
Her other nipple stiffened under the attention, neglected but desperate, and Mika’s hand found it like he’d read her mind, fingers rolling it gently between calloused fingertips.
"Mmh!♡~ Ahhh, yes!♡~ Just like that!♡~" She whimpered, chest heaving, eyes fluttering shut
The sensation was unlike anything she felt before, a jolt of pleasure that felt so wrong. He was like her son, the boy she’d raised, but it felt so thrilling, her body trembling with excitement.
The taboo of it—the forbidden intimacy of a mother and son doing something so naughty twisted into something so erotic, only heightened her pleasure as his tongue swirled, his teeth grazing lightly, fulfilling her desperate, shameful desires...