Page 74 of Kotori
"What are you doing?" I whisper, even though it's perfectly obvious as he pushes the silk up to my waist, revealing the lace underwear I'd chosen in a moment of weakness, knowing he would see it tonight.
"Worshipping," he says simply, looking up at me with dark eyes that reflect the occasional burst of fireworks overhead. "I'm starving."
He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my underwear, dragging it down my legs with excruciating slowness. "Mine," he says, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. "Every inch of you."
I should protest. Should remind him that I don't belong to anyone, that he doesn't own me. But after a night spent bound in his rope, after hours of desperate need with no relief, after seeing the pattern of his shibari harness temporarily imprinted on my skin like a brand of ownership—I'm beyond resistance. Instead, I tangle my fingers in his hair as his mouth moves higher, his breath hot against my pussy.
The first touch of his tongue makes my knees buckle. Only his hands gripping my thighs keep me upright as he licks into me with devastating precision, finding every spot that makes me whimper and shake.
"Kaito-sama," I gasp as he sucks my clit between his lips. "Someone could hear."
"Let them," he growls against me, the vibration making me cry out. "Let the whole world see who you belong to."
His tongue pushes inside me, then drags up to circle my clit in a rhythm that has me panting, my hands fisting in his hair as pleasure builds with frightening speed. After a night spent bound in his rope, after hours of phantom sensation and denied release, after the torment of wanting him while being unable to satisfy myself, I'm already dangerously close to the edge.
"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for. Release? More? For him to stop before I completely surrender?
He responds by sliding two fingers inside me. His mouth never leaves my clit, sucking and licking in counterpoint to the thrust of his fingers.
"Come for me," he commands against my flesh. "Now, kotori. Show me who you belong to."
I do. Pleasure crashes through me in waves that make me cry out his name, my body clenching around his fingers as he works me through the orgasm with relentless skill.
Before I can recover, before the aftershocks have even subsided, he's standing and turning me to face the tree, bending me forward with one hand between my shoulder blades.
"My turn," he growls, and I hear the rustle of fabric as he frees himself from his yukata. "I'm going to make you feel every inch."
I find myself widening my stance, arching my back to offer myself to him like the willing slave he's turning me into.
The head of his cock nudges against my entrance, thick and hot and demanding. "Say it," he orders, one hand tangling in my hair to pull my head back. "Say who you belong to."
"No," I gasp, the last shred of defiance I can muster.
He pushes just the tip inside me, making me moan at the stretch. "Say it, kotori. Tell me who owns this perfect body."
"Fuck you," I manage, even as my body betrays me by trying to push back, to take more of him.
He allows this small defiance—part of the game between us, the resistance that makes my eventual surrender sweeter. His chuckle is dark with promise. "I'm trying to, but you're being stubborn." He withdraws completely, making me whimper at the loss. "Maybe I should just leave you like this. Wet and wanting and unfulfilled. Again. Like I left you bound in my rope all night."
"Don't you dare," I hiss, reaching back to grab his hip, trying to pull him closer.
"Then say it." His voice brooks no argument, his hand tightening in my hair. "Say you're mine."
Overhead, the fireworks reach their crescendo, explosions of color and light.
"I'm yours," I whisper, the words coming easier now after being forced from my lips last night during that moment of desperate need in my bedroom. This surrender feels like a continuation, the inevitable conclusion to the lesson that began with red rope against my skin. "Goddamn you, I'm yours."
His groan of satisfaction is animal as he thrusts into me in one powerful stroke. His pace is punishing from the start, each thrust driving me against the tree as he claims me with the force of last night's torment.
"Mine," he growls against my ear, one hand reaching around to find my clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. "Say it again."
"Yours," I gasp, shamefully close to another orgasm already, my body primed by a night of denied need. "I'm yours, Kaito-sama."
He knows what I need without my having to say it, his fingers working my clit with the same devastating skill as his mouth earlier. His thrusts speed up, the sound of flesh meeting flesh obscenely loud in the small clearing.
"This is what you needed, isn't it?" he growls, his voice rough with possession. "This is what you were begging for last night when I left you tied up. This is what you've been craving since the moment I bound you in my rope."
"Yes," I admit, beyond shame, beyond pride, beyond anything but the desperate need for him to keep fucking me like this. "Yes, God, yes."
