Page 52 of Kotori
"I don't know," I admit, the words coming out broken.
"I think you do." His hand slides into my hair, fingers tangling in the blonde strands. "I think you've known since the moment you walked into my home."
Then his mouth is on mine, and the world explodes into fire.
This isn't just a kiss. His lips crush against mine with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs and the thoughts from my head. One hand fists in my hair, the other wraps around my waist, pulling me against him with bruising force that makes me gasp into his mouth.
He tastes like power and danger. When his tongue sweeps into my mouth, I make a sound I've never heard from myself before—half moan, half whimper—and he responds with a low growl that vibrates through his chest and into mine.
His teeth graze my lower lip, not quite a bite but a reminder that he could if he wanted to. My hands are trapped between us, pressed against the hard plane of his chest where I can feel his heart thundering as violently as mine. I should be pushing him away. Instead, my fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer, surrendering to the storm that is his kiss.
He walks me backward until I hit the wall, pinning me there with his body. One hand slides from my waist to my bare thigh,his touch leaving trails of fire on my skin. I'm dizzy with want, trembling with need I didn't know I was capable of feeling.
The sound seems to unleash something in him. His grip in my hair tightens, his other hand sliding up my bare thigh to my hip, fingers pressing into my flesh, pulling me against the rigid evidence of his desire.
My head falls back, exposing my throat, which he immediately claims with lips and teeth. The sensation of his mouth on my neck sends pleasure straight to my core.
"You're mine," he growls against my throat, the word vibrating against my pulse. "Say it."
"Yours," I gasp, too far gone to feel shame at how quickly I yield. "I'm yours, Kaito-sama."
When he finally breaks the kiss, we're both breathing hard. His pupils are blown wide, dark with hunger that makes my entire body flush with answering heat. He doesn't move away, keeping me pinned between his body and the wall, his hand still in my hair, tilting my head back so I have to look up at him.
"That's what you want," he says with absolute certainty, his voice rough and deep. "To stop fighting. To let me take care of you. To surrender everything and trust that I'll keep you safe." He steps back suddenly, leaving me pressed against the wall, barely clothed and undone.
The absence of his warmth makes me want to reach for him, to pull him back, to beg for more.
"Get dressed," he says, his voice controlled while I'm still falling apart. "Wear something suitable. The girls will be finishing their study period soon, and we'll be taking lunch in the garden."
Then he's gone, sliding the door closed behind him, leaving me standing naked and shaking.
I stare at the beautiful fabrics scattered around my feet—layers of artistry that he peeled away, like I was something he had every right to unwrap.
And the most terrifying part is that I let him.
I wanted him to.
Kotori. Little bird in a cage, learning to sing for her master's pleasure.
The door slides open again, and Hayashi enters with my clothes folded neatly in her arms. She surveys the scene of me standing nearly naked with the kimono on the floor. "This way, Williams-san," she says without missing a beat. "The girls will be finishing their studies in fifteen minutes."
14
Kaito
Thetasteofherstill on my tongue when Takeshi calls, interrupting my evening.
"Aniki." His voice carries weight. "The advisors want a meeting. Tonight. Hiroshi arranged it—something about succession planning and allied families."
I set down my cup. The old bastard has been working behind my back, using his decades of service to question my authority.
"What succession concerns need an emergency meeting?"
"Family stability. The daughters' futures. Marriage arrangements." Takeshi sounds as suspicious as I feel. "The senior advisors want a 'generational planning' discussion. Internal family only."
A trap. Hiroshi isn't calling a meeting—he's staged a tribunal. Using the old guard to confront me within family walls where he can speak freely about my "failings." His timing is perfect—just hours after I left her trembling in the fitting room.
"How many advisors?"
