Page 55 of Kotori
The nightgown has become almost transparent in the steam, revealing every curve. When my eyes travel down her body, she shivers.
"You knew this was coming," I say, reaching for the thin straps of her nightgown. "Ever since I tasted those lips this morning."
Her breath quickens. "The girls—"
"Are asleep. And you're mine to do with as I please." I pull at one strap, letting it fall from her shoulder. "Tonight I'm going to show you exactly what that means."
The nightgown slips away, leaving her naked under the moonlight. Her skin glows almost silver, every curve displayed for my pleasure.
"Fuck," I breathe, circling her slowly. "Look at you."
She stands straight, trying to maintain dignity while exposed. But her body betrays her—nipples tight, pulse visible at her throat, thighs pressing together.
"In the water," I command, removing my yukata completely. My cock stands thick and hard, and I catch the moment herlips part involuntarily at the sight of it. "Now," I add when she hesitates.
She steps toward the steaming pool, testing the temperature with one foot before slowly sinking into the hot water. A small moan escapes her as the heat envelops her body.
"Good girl," I say, following her in. "Now come here and serve me."
I gesture toward the bathing area beside the pool, where wooden buckets and bathing stools are arranged on smooth stone. "You're going to wash me first," I command. "Every part of my body. Then we'll enter the waters."
Her hands shake as she fills a wooden bucket from the stone basin.
I settle onto the low wooden stool, my back to her, yukata pooled around my waist. "Start with my shoulders," I instruct, and she pours the warm water over my skin, watching it stream down my back.
She hesitantly takes the small cloth and soap, working it into a lather before touching me. I remain perfectly still, letting her grow accustomed to the intimacy of washing another's body.
"Use both hands," I command quietly. "Learn me."
Her palms slide across my shoulders, down my spine with growing boldness. Every touch burns, her fingers tracing old scars, following muscle lines. When she reaches around to wash my chest, her breasts brush against my back, and I hear her sharp intake of breath.
"You're shaking," I observe, feeling the tremor in her hands. "Are you afraid?"
"Yes," she admits.
The simple honesty tells me everything. Fear, desire, submission—all wrapped in one word.
"Continue," I say, standing so she can wash the rest of me, removing my yukata completely.
Her hands become more thorough, covering every inch with soap and water. Her breathing becomes shallow when she reaches my lower back, her movements hesitant as she realizes what comes next.
"All of me," I growl. "Every goddamn inch."
When her soapy hands finally wrap around my cock, I hiss through my teeth. She freezes, but I place my hand over hers, guiding her movements.
"Like that," I growl. "Feel what you do to me. This cock is yours to serve."
By the time she's finished, we're both breathing hard, and I'm rock hard from her thorough attention. The ritual washing has served its purpose—she's touched me everywhere, learned my body while I remained in control.
"My turn," I say.
I guide her to sit on the bathing stool, and she complies without protest. Her skin is flushed pink, making her look like something created for my pleasure.
"Hands at your sides," I command. "Let me see what I own."
She obeys, exposing herself completely. The warm water I pour over her shoulders makes her gasp, creating rivers down her back that I follow with my eyes before my hands join them.
"Lean forward," I command, and begin washing her, learning every curve.
