I woke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the hotel curtains in Genoa, my body still humming from the previous night's passion. For once, the bed beside me was empty—Miko was already up, standing by the window, gazing out at the harbor where ships bobbed like toys in the Mediterranean breeze. Her silhouette was framed against the dawn, her face peaceful, lips slightly parted in thought, her cat tail swishing lazily behind her despite the faint wince she tried to hide from her healing wounds. It was rare; usually, she was the one clinging in sleep, her purr a constant lullaby. I propped myself up on an elbow, watching her for a moment, a smile tugging at my lips despite the lingering grief from Kira's loss.
"Up before me? That's a first," I teased gently, my voice still rough with sleep. "What, no koala cling this morning? I was starting to think you were glued to me."
She turned, her amber eyes softening with a faint smile, though shadows lingered there—Kira's death still fresh, a wound that hadn't scabbed over. "Couldn't sleep much. Thinking about... everything." She padded over, sitting on the bed's edge, her tail curling around my leg. "But hey, at least you're awake now. Miss your cuddle buddy already?"
I chuckled, pulling her down beside me for a quick hug. "Always. You look too cute standing there like a sentinel. Figured you'd pounce any second."
She laughed weakly, nuzzling into my neck. "Maybe next time. Come on, let's eat—breakfast's included, right?"
We dressed and headed to the hotel's small dining area, a cozy room with checkered tablecloths and the aroma of fresh espresso wafting from a machine. It was buffet-style: croissants, cheeses, sliced meats, and yogurt parfaits. We loaded plates, Miko piling on fruit with a determined nod. "Gotta keep our strength up," she said, though her appetite was subdued. We ate quietly, the clink of cutlery and murmurs of other guests a soothing background, but Kira's absence hung like a cloud. I teased her lightly about her massive stack of strawberries—"Planning to turn into a fruit bat?"—earning a genuine giggle that lifted the mood, if only for a moment.
Back on the road, we pointed the rental car north, the Italian countryside giving way to the majestic Alps as we crossed into Switzerland. The drive was breathtaking—winding roads hugging sheer cliffs, snow-capped peaks piercing the sky like jagged teeth, pine forests blanketing the slopes in deep green. Villages nestled in valleys, their chalets with sloping roofs dusted white, smoke curling from chimneys. Miko pressed her face to the window, her eyes wide. "It's like a fairy tale," she whispered, her tail flicking with awe despite shivering.
As we neared a high pass, smoke caught our eye—a thick plume rising from a cluster of cabins ahead. "Look!" Miko pointed, her cat ears perking under her beanie. I slowed the car, pulling over at a viewpoint. Below, a wooden cabin was engulfed in flames, orange tongues licking the night sky, the fire roaring like a beast unleashed. Sparks danced upward, illuminating the chaos—people running from the structure in panic, shouts echoing up the mountain in a mix of German and cries of alarm. "Feuer! Hilfe!" someone screamed, as figures silhouetted against the blaze dragged others to safety, blankets thrown over shoulders. The fire spread quickly, leaping to a nearby tree, the crackle of burning wood audible even from our vantage. Sirens wailed in the distance, fire trucks snaking up the narrow road, their lights flashing red and blue against the snow. Hoses unfurled like serpents, water arcing through the air in powerful jets, hissing against the inferno as foam mixed in, slowly taming the flames to smoldering embers. "Wonder what happened," I said, my voice tight. "Accident? Or... something worse? Arson?"
Miko shivered, hugging herself. "Let's keep going. It's too close to home—the violence."
We drove on, crossing into Germany as the Alps receded, the landscape shifting to Bavaria's rolling hills and dense forests. Miko, still eager to see as much as possible before the Balkans, pointed out castles perched on ridges and quaint villages with half-timbered houses. "It's all so... old-world," she said, her grief easing in the wonder.
We stopped at a hotel in Bavaria, near Munich—a charming inn with flower boxes and a view of misty fields. Booking was a comedy of errors; the clerk greeted us in rapid German, "Guten Abend! Haben Sie eine Reservierung? Ein Zimmer für zwei Personen?" I blanked, my high school German failing me completely. "Uh... room? Two people?" I tried, gesturing with two fingers and mimicking sleep. He frowned, repeating slower, but it was gibberish—"Doppelzimmer? Mit Frühstück?" Miko stifled a giggle beside me as I fumbled, my face heating. Finally, I pulled out my phone, firing up the translator app, holding it up as he spoke. The app spat out: "Good evening! Do you have a reservation? A room for two?" I typed back, the robotic voice relaying in German. After a few back-and-forths—"Ja, Doppelzimmer, bitte"—we got the key, stumbling over "Danke" as we headed up, laughing at the awkwardness.
In the room—cozy with wooden beams and a quilted bed—Miko's mood shifted, her eyes darkening with heat. "To unwind," she purred, pushing me onto the bed. We stripped slowly, savoring each reveal—her sweater sliding off to expose the curve of her shoulders, her bra unclasped to let her breasts spill free, nipples hardening in the cool air. "New positions tonight," she whispered, her voice husky with desire, her hands guiding mine to her hips as she straddled me.
We started with her on top, her body moving in a sensual rhythm, grinding slowly at first, her purr vibrating through us as she rose and fell, her breasts brushing my chest with each descent. The sensation was intoxicating—her tight heat enveloping me, her tail curling around my thigh in a gentle hold. "Feel every inch," she murmured, leaning down to kiss me deeply, her tongue exploring with languid strokes. I thrust up to meet her, hands roaming her back, fingers tracing the faint scars, turning her purr to a soft moan.
She flipped us, pulling me on top for missionary—her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper, our bodies moving in sync, slow and intimate, her nails lightly scraping my back as she whispered encouragements. "Just like that... slower, feel it all." The build was agonizingly sweet, her walls pulsing around me until we both came in a wave of shared release.
Eager for more, she guided me to spooning—her back against my chest, my arm around her waist as I entered from behind, thrusting gently at first, then building, my hand sliding between her legs to circle her clit with feather-light touches. Her purr rumbled through us, her body arching into mine, the position allowing for deep, sensual penetration that had her gasping.
We tried doggy next, her on all fours, me behind—slow, deliberate thrusts, my hands on her hips pulling her back, her tail swishing against my abdomen in teasing brushes. "Deeper," she breathed, pushing against me, the angle hitting new spots that made her purr turn to moans.
Orgasms built gradually, her body trembling with each peak, until spent, we slept tangled.