Page 21 of The Oni's Heart

Would she pant quietly beneath my touch or would she be bold and vocal in seeking her pleasure. Momoi, with her inner fire, seemed to be one who would demand what she wanted and that thought alone made my cock stir.

Would she force herself on me if I told her to stop? Would I even have any logical thought left to say such lies if she was straddled on top of me, trapping me in place?

The sheets around me grew damp as my body tensed. My skin, slick with sweat. My breath came faster, more shallow. The room was closing in around me.

I could almost feel her close to me again. Her scent lingered in my nares. Her eyes continue to burn through me.

I hadn’t realized it before, but I wanted her.Badly.Her anger, her fury and accusations, all of it.

Two flames, stoked to ignite, burning each other into oblivion.

Without realizing it, my hand slipped beneath the waist of my pants.

There, in the silence of my quarters, I gave in to the thought that had been gnawing at me since the moment I touched her. I wanted her—wanted to feel her against me, to lose myself in the pull between us, to bury myself in her presence.

My hand stroked faster against the veins with a level of friction that made me grit my teeth in both pain and forbidden pleasure. I could almost feel her silky, black hair sliding against the skin of my chest, how her soft breaths would send shivers down my spine.

But I couldn’t have her. I wasn’t allowed to.

I turned over in shame but continued to fist myself in punishment.

I had spent years suppressing everything, fighting the bloodlust, the rage, the urges that ran through my veins. All my training was for naught if I easily fell into temptation like this. But she wasn’t just anyone. She wasMomoi. And she was the one person I couldn’t have without betraying everything I stood for in this temple.

Tatsuya…

I groaned at thoughts of her whispering my name against my ear as she grinded herself against me, seeking pleasure with or without my help. Thoughts of her fully naked tortured me as my breathing began to speed up, my muscles tensing with each hard stroke and twist against the crown of my cock.

I could feel myself weeping down there, the same way I wanted to weep, knowing she was so close yet so far.

I twisted in the sheets, the heat in my chest rising, my body aching in a way I hadn’t felt in years. My mind flickered back to that moment when I reached out to touch her, when I saw the fear and anger flash in her eyes. It made my blood boil, made me want to tear through every wall I had built around myself.I wanted to possess her, to break through the walls she had so carefully constructed, to show her that I wasn’t the enemy.

I could fuck the hate out of her eyes if she’d let me. I could bury myself so deeply inside of her that she’d never think of anyone else again but me.

Lightning shot through my spine as I spilled against my hand, still stroking myself in torture through the aftershocks of my pleasure. My fist was coated with my release, years of build up and self denial.

The demons inside my mind taunted and laughed at my weakness and a sigh of resignation escaped me.

I was nothing but a broken man with nothing to offer.

But that didn’t stop the craving. And that’s what pissed me off the most.

I quickly cleaned up and returned to the futon, arms crossed over my chest, staring at the ceiling, the weight of my failure pressing down on me. Trouble wouldn’t let go. The demons in my mind whispered, reminding me how easily I’d slipped, how easily I’d abandoned everything I’d fought for. Every rule I’d sworn to live by—every ounce of discipline I’d built—crumbled the moment I let my thoughts betray me.

I was supposed to be a monk. I was supposed to embody restraint, peace, control. And yet, here I was, consumed by desires I knew I had no right to entertain.Ihad been the one to step across that line. The man I’d become, the violence, the temptation, the rage—how could I ever call myself a monk again?

I clenched my jaw, disgusted with myself. I had failed, and worse, I had allowed myself to fall back into the very darkness I’d worked so hard to escape. Every inch of me was a betrayal—of the vows I’d taken, the peace I was meant to embody, of the life I’d chosen.

More stumbles were coming, and this time, I feared I wouldn’t be able to get back up.

I turned over again, eyes wide, staring into the dark, sweat cooling on my skin. Sleep never came. And somewhere, in the quietest part of my mind, I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t be able to shake her from my thoughts.

13

If I Die Young

MOMOI

It was easier to numb the pain than to face it.

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