Page 82 of Emperor of Havoc

“No, it’s?—”

Before I can finish my protest, his hands are on me, his mouth crushing mine. The kiss is bold, demanding, and utterly confounding. I’m torn between wanting to shove him away and yearning to sink into the unexpected warmth of his touch.

It’s new, this tenderness mixed with his unrelenting dominance.

Confusing, frustrating…and notentirelyunwelcome.

“Husband,” he growls as he pulls back, pointing to his chest. “Wife,” he continues, turning his hand and pressing his fingertip against my chest, between my breasts. “Ergo—this isourroom.”

Goddammit.

The next few weeks blur together as I divide my time between the Ishida-kai compound and the hospital where Papa’s continuing to receive treatment. The once-unstoppable “Yuki no Akuma”or Snow Demon is now confined to bed rest, his pale skin a painful reminder to me of his mortality.

“You’re doing well,Koshka,” he tells me during one of our morning meetings in his hospital room. He’s propped up by a mountain of pillows, his eyes sharper than one would expect for someone so weakened. “You’re officially in charge now, I hope you realize that. You have their respect.”

“Respect is fragile," I sign back, my movements measured and deliberate. "They only follow because they have no choice.”

He smirks, a shadow of his former self. “Incorrect. They follow because they know you’ll gut them if they don’t.”

The corner of my mouth twitches up, but it doesn’t quite become a smile. It feels like in praising me, Papa is preparing me for something I’m not ready to face.

I don't dwell on the matter, though. My focus is razor-sharp, my resolve unyielding —and yet, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, Takeshi lingers like an unwelcome shadow I can’t shake.

Oh FUCK…

I moan deep in my throat, writhing in the sheets as the orgasm floods through me. My back arches from the bed, my legs wrapping tightly around Takeshi’s muscled hips as he groans, driving his cock deep.

My eyes roll back, another wave of pleasure crashing over me as his one hand tightens around my neck, the other gripping my hip hard enough to leave bruises as he grinds into me. With a choked roar, his muscles clench and ripple, his cock swelling inside me, his cum filling me.

Nowthatis a wakeup I could get used to. As in, I literally woke up with his cock inside me. Which, for some people, might blur the lines surrounding consent.

But my lines were blurred long before he got his hands on me.

I’ve found myself wondering recently more and more about why I’m so comfortable with blurred lines when it comes to him. Why I crave the dark pleasure he can offer me.

I think partly it's that there’s something about Takeshi that makes surrender feel more like defiance than weakness—like, giving in to him is its own form of rebellion. Does that make any sense?

Partly it’s because I tell myself I trust him not to truly hurt me…though that trust is tenuous at best.

And maybe it’s because, with him, it’s the first time I don’t have to be in control. I can let go, knowing he’ll catch me.

Forcefully and brutally, but he’ll catch me.

It’s fucked up, and I don't quite understand it, but I’ve stopped pretending I don’t crave it.

I smile contentedly, luxuriating in the afterglow of my orgasm as he slowly pulls his thick cock from my tight pussy. I shiver as he slides free, his cum dripping out of me in a way that makes me blush but is also electrifying.

Before I can reach for a tissue, he’s sliding down my body, grabbing my thighs and pushing them wide apart. He dives between my legs, his eyes locked on mine as he dips his mouth…

Oh sweet fucking hell…

His tongue drags over my tender lips, nibbling, licking, sucking. He doesn’t seem to care that he’s just emptied what feels like a pint of cum inside me. In fact, I realize as his tongue dances over me that he’s actively licking it up, and…

Holy hell…

Pushing it back in with his tongue.

Fuck me,whyis that so fucking hot?

---