Page 75 of Kotori
"Come with me," he orders, his voice strained with the effort of control. "Now, kotori. Come around my cock. Let me feel what only I can give you."
As I come, pleasure explodes through me with an intensity that makes me cry out his name, my inner walls clenching around him as he drives into me one last time, his release hot inside me as he groans against my ear.
"Ore no mono," he growls, his voice harsh with possession. "Kirei."Beautiful.His words dissolve into guttural Japanese that I don't understand but feel in my bones—vulgar, possessive claims of ownership that make me shudder with aftershocks even as they mark me as thoroughly as his body just did.
For long moments, we stay joined, his weight pressing me against the tree as we both struggle to catch our breath. The fireworks have ended, leaving only distant festival sounds and the chirp of cicadas to fill the night.
"Mine," he murmurs again, pressing a kiss to the nape of my neck with unexpected tenderness. "Always mine."
When he finally withdraws and helps me straighten my yukata, I can't meet his eyes. The shame and satisfaction war within me, leaving me confused and silent as he carefully adjusts my clothing, erasing the evidence of our encounter with the same meticulous attention he gives everything.
"Your hair," he says, reaching up to smooth strands that have escaped their careful styling. "Beautiful, but telling."
I slap his hand away, finding my voice at last. "Fuck you," I say without heat, too exhausted for real anger.
For a moment, he allows it—a brief indulgence for the vulnerability of what we've just shared, a momentary acceptance of my post-orgasmic confusion. Then, as if remembering himself, his expression hardens instantly, hand shooting out to grip my chin firmly.
"You will address me properly, Paige. Always. Especially after I've just been inside you."
I swallow hard, the reminder of my place immediate and effective. "I apologize, Matsumoto-sama."
His grip softens to a caress. "Better. Remember your place, kotori. It pleases me when you do."
"Yes, Matsumoto-sama," I whisper, the formal address falling from my lips naturally now, part of whatever twisted dynamic we've created.
"Good girl," he murmurs, satisfaction evident in his tone.
Before I can formulate a response, voices sound on the path—festival-goers heading back from the fireworks display. Kaito's hand finds mine, tugging me in the opposite direction.
"Come," he says, suddenly all business. "My daughters will be waiting."
The reminder of his children, of the family waiting for us while their father's semen still runs down my thigh, makes me flush with renewed shame. But I follow him without protest, letting him guide me through the gardens along paths that seem to appear magically before him.
We emerge near the pavilion, and I use the moment to collect myself, to school my features into something resembling normalcy before facing his daughters.
"Paige." His voice stops me before we rejoin the group. "Look at me."
I reluctantly meet his gaze, expecting to see smug satisfaction or possessive triumph. Instead, there's something almost tender in his dark eyes.
"I don't just own your body," he says, his thumb tracing my lower lip with possessive intent. "I own all of you. Your thoughts. Your desires. Your future. The sooner you accept that, the happier you'll be, kotori."
The blunt declaration makes my chest tight with emotions I don't want to examine. "You can't just claim a person, Kaito-sama."
His smile is indulgent but absolute. "I already have. And we both know it."
Before I can respond, Aya spots us and waves enthusiastically. "Papa! Paige-sensei! Did you see the golden dragon firework? It was the best one!"
And just like that, we're back to normal—or whatever passes for normal in this strange, beautiful, twisted reality. Kaito the devoted father, me the foreign teacher, the complicated truth hidden beneath polite smiles and careful distance.
But as we rejoin his daughters, as Aya chatters about her favorite fireworks and Kohana offers shy opinions and Mizuki watches me with those too-perceptive eyes, I find myself unable to look at her, as if she already knows everything.
I surrendered. I admitted I was his.
Thedrivebacktothe compound takes place in sleepy silence, Aya dozing against her sister's shoulder while Mizuki stares out the window, lost in thoughts I can't begin to fathom. Kaito sits beside me, not touching but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the lingering scent of sex beneath his expensive cologne.
"Did you enjoy the festival, Paige-sensei?" Mizuki asks suddenly, her voice carefully neutral.
I meet her gaze in the darkness of the car, wondering how much she knows, how much she suspects. "It was educational."
