The plane rumbled down the runway. The wheels hid themselves away and the plane lifted off, Manila receding below them like an increasingly distant memory. Ishizu pressed her fingers against the frosted plane windows and felt a small ache come over her, as if she had lost something that she couldn't put her finger on, something she would never quite get back.

"Ishizu," came the husky voice from across the low-lying table. The plane having steadied some, Seto was unbuckling his seatbelt and making his way to standing. The way Ishizu looked right then, slightly flushed and almost expectant, sent flutters to his lower belly and to his chest. He walked around the table and came to stand next to where she was seated, feeling need and heat emit from her skin.

Plastering a charming smirk on his face, he extended a hand to her. Ishizu looked up at him, surprised. What was he doing?

Then she noticed the door left ajar behind Seto. Leading to the bedroom he had mentioned earlier. Ishizu blushed crimson, remembering the condoms she had packed in her purse. This was happening. Already she could feel herself loosening and growing warm in anticipating what Seto had in mind. His hungry eyes made no effort to hide his intentions, and Ishizu returned his wry smile, making her response quite clear.

She quickly reached for her purse and pulled the three foil-wrapped packets into her hand, hoping she was quick enough to evade Seto's eyes and his judgment.

She was quick, but not quick enough. Seto's sarcastic smile showed teeth; his eyes narrowed in understanding of what she had brought with her, what she had known—or at least hoped—would happen during their excursion.

Could he consider this a win?

As Ishizu unbuckled her seatbelt and stood demurely, patting her clothing into place, Seto couldn't resist drawling lazily, "well, well, well, Ishizu… what have you got there? If only you'd have said something sooner, I'd have been more than happy to… relieve you of them."

His voice was teasing; Ishizu found herself rolling her eyes, cheeks reddening in response to his implications. "Oh, shut up," she muttered thickly, smiling inwardly.

"Make me," Seto challenged, placing his hand on the small of her back as the pair walked over to the small room holding that brand-new bed and closed the door behind them.

She took in the scope of the small bedroom on the jet, breath suddenly catching in her throat at the expense, the luxury of it all, and how utterly out of place she felt here with him. The large bed-was it king-sized? she wondered-sat benignly, almost welcomingly, in the middle of the room, one of those modern affairs that was low to the ground, appearing to float on a nearly hidden base, all finely sanded dark wood, all crisp square edges. The ceiling was low and paneled with matching wood, the unpleasant fluorescent lights of the main cabin replaced with a delicate black-and-white square paper lantern construction, reminiscent of the great architect and designer Frank Lloyd Wright. The carpet was plush beneath her feet, giving way as she swayed slightly from side to side in her appraisal of the room.

There was a large mirror affixed to the wall across from the bed; at this Ishizu couldn't help but roll her eyes at Seto's impossible narcissism. Does he like to watch himself during…? Her cheeks reddened at the thought of what the rest of her thought entailed.

… During the act of... She then remembered what she held in her hand like a criminal: those three damned foil packets, and bit her lip reflexively, dipping her head to avoid Seto's keen gaze as he watched her observe the room, like a viper tracking a tiny, delicate bird. She imagined him licking his lips as he observed her, ready to feast on her, ready to satisfy himself completely within her.

Of course, that metaphor was not entirely accurate, Ishizu had to admit to herself; after all, the bird was more than prey, but a willing participant in this devouring.

And oh, how she wanted him to devour her, to do things to her, to make strange noises come out of her mouth as she forgot everything that had ever held back, every moment of hesitation replaced with a chorus of moans and sighs settling around them like a bitten pillow's feathers.

Now is not the time for shyness, Ishizu. Ishizu swallowed loudly, aware of just how close the heat of his body was as he stood behind her, his lips almost brushing against her plaited hair, his hand never leaving her back, the only thing anchoring her to the ground in this off-kilter new world.

Well, it's the nicest den of sin I've ever seen… she bit back a quiet smile to herself, not daring to imagine all of the previous acts that had occurred in the room previously, the surely endless parade of women entering and exiting…

And then she let herself imagine, just for a minute, what his irrepressible lips on her inner thigh would feel like.

Oh god, did she want him.

Seto felt her press her legs together from where she stood before him, noticed the hitch in her breath, and nearly grinned to himself. Come now, let's make this a good one… or two… or three… He bit back a laugh, remembering her impulsive reach for the condoms she had thought to bring, as if she had known she would end up here, on his jet, ready to be splayed on his bed and fucked into delicious oblivion, until the only word that would emerge from those clever lips was in his name, whispered, moaned, cried out like a prayer.

He hoped the new bed was of the same quality as the one it had replaced. After all, he liked to be somewhat… athletic in his explorations, his ministrations, of the women he invited in here. He thought of the endless parade of blondes and brunettes, each more beautiful than the last, each with their particular quirks that he'd found so delightful.

He nearly lost his breath as he realized that the memories had gone slightly blurred, distracted as he was by the bewitching woman in front of him, on whose tight, tense back his hand currently rested, the one who, no doubt was thinking of all the things that could occur between them in that prohibitively expensive bed; his heart fluttered dangerously in his chest, a slight panic settling into his veins.

As if she sensed something amiss, Ishizu turned her head and shifted herself, her posture, until she stood, facing him; he looked down at that clever head of hers, all dotted and sewn up with ideas of things he could never truly understand, and nearly choked on his own spittle when she lifted her head to meet his eyes. Any fool could see they were clouded with want, her skin breaking into obvious gooseflesh, a bite of the lip as he moved the arm on her back experimentally, dangerously lower.

Seto cleared his throat and shook his head briefly to himself, almost imperceptibly, refusing to let any sort of melancholy or softness or strangeness cloud his utter desire, his need, his itch that only Ishizu Ishtar could scratch.

And here she stood before him, wanting him just as much as he wanted her.

He looked down at her and curled his lips into a smirk, noting the blush on her cheeks and neck. "Shall I?" he drawled, voice husky and teasing, as he reached over towards the wall with the door and adjusted the ceiling light until the room was dimmer, filled with a dusky glow. He then moved his hand from her back as he walked towards the other side of the small room and closed the standard-issue airplane window blind, sealing them inside.

He walked over back to where Ishizu was barely holding herself together and placed his hand back to his favorite spot, feeling her tremble under his touch. His lips brushed her ear gently, and she shivered deliciously before him as he whispered, "you know, we could keep standing here like this, or we could…"

Before he could finish, Ishizu found herself rising onto her tiptoes, running her hands up his torso to grasp his black suit jacket collar, letting the condoms fall to the ground, and pulling his lips onto hers with a ferocity that she'd come to recognize as wholly part of herself, a part of her that somehow only Seto Kaiba could unleash unto the world.

The part of her that could not, would not be quenched by anyone but him.

Seto slipped both of his hands to her rear and guided them backwards, Ishizu's hips straining to stay pressed up against his, to feel that glorious pressure of him against her thigh, already hard, though she supposed he'd likely been that way since she'd grabbed the condoms from her purse. She let herself be pulled along by him, stepping out of her low heels; Seto couldn't stop himself from chuckling, and seated himself on the edge of his bed, pulling her into his lap.

Ishizu let out a gasp against his lips as he hoisted her on top of him with incredible ease, her legs opening almost automatically to straddle his, and then one of his hands pressed gently into her back, pushing their chests together, while the other one stroked one of her inner thighs almost innocently as she lifted her hands to clutch at his hair. She pulled away for a moment, breathing heavily through her already-swollen lips, and he took his opportunity to brush his lips against her neck, something seemingly simple but strangely effective as Ishizu strained to rock her hips against his, to get closer, to feel him against her exactly where she needed to, and then, oh god, then his tongue was in her ear and the last vestiges of rational thought left her entirely.

Seto lifted the hand from her back and ran them down her thighs, pulling up the hem of her skirt and bunching it around her waist, appreciating with no small delight her reactions, how she not only accepted and reacted to his need, but how she responded to even the slightest thing, and that rocking of her hips was really going to end this whole thing now if she didn't stop, and so he nipped at her ear and whispered, "do you want me to…?", brushing his fingers between where her hips met his, pressing against her now-exposed panties to make his meaning clear.

Ishizu nearly yelped as he placed his fingers right there, dammit, and touched her forehead to his so that he could feel her nod yes, and then he somehow was on top of her, sliding her skirt down her hips and onto the floor in front of the bed; her lower legs dangled off the edge of the bed as he ground his hips against her once more, eliciting a throaty moan, before he leaned on his one arm to help support himself-thank god for the firm mattress, he thought-kissing her neck, her collarbone peeking from under her blouse, before sliding his other hand down her torso, brushing his fingertips against the hem of her blouse, her exposed lower belly, before pulling her panties aside and then-fuck.

Seto nearly came right then at the feel of her; Ishizu was similarly stirred by his touch and lifted her hands up towards him to push his suit jacket off his shoulders, her fingers scrabbling at the buttons of his expensive white button-down, the small gasp of surprise she made when, in her haste to see him exposed, one of the buttons popped off the shirt and dropped to the carpet.

If Seto noticed, he didn't react, merely circling and curling his finger inside her, then adding another, and god, how he needed his, needed her; her breathy moans of pleasure and her self-conscious giggle of joy at his exposed chest as he lifted his hands off her-prompting her to groan, "don't fucking stop, oh god" (the color of her vocabulary during intimacy was something he would gleefully file away for later remembrance), so that he could shrug off the jacket and shirt and press his naked chest against her clothed one.

She collected her wits just long enough to take him in, take in his smooth creamy skin with its defined, lean muscles that were currently tensed around her, and felt another flutter of desire, of disbelief at how beautiful he was, and how someone so damned sexy could want her, want her in this way and not only want her, but want her well and demonstrate it skillfully and naturally, as if her pleasure fed his own in a never-ending cycle.

Is this what intimacy is supposed to be like?

She blushed as she dropped her eyes to the faint trail of dark hairs around his abdomen, leading down to...

It was then that Seto noticed the thread on his shirt, indicating the missing button, and grinned at her slightly cruelly. "Well, well, well, Ishizu... if I'd known you wanted to see me naked that badly, I'd have been more... helpful," he murmured, pressing his tongue back into her ear and making her shudder.

Ishizu then whimpered, remembering the devastating loss of his hand between her legs and tugged at one of them to go back to where she needed it; through barely-open eyes she saw Seto smirk his classic smirk, felt him whisper cunningly against her neck: "not yet, Ishizu. First I want to see you," and then his hands were unbuttoning her black-and-white blouse, his lips following the downward path of his hands as he finished his task and dropped the blouse onto the floor.

Seto bit his lip to stifle a groan at the beauty of her, clad in her simple white bra, coffee-colored skin practically glowing against the material, nearly freezing in his tracks, her writhing hips and panting breaths temporarily forgotten as he placed a gentle kiss on her breast right where the flesh met fabric.

He then noticed with no small amount of glee that her bra clasped in the front-not that a back-clasp bra presented any sort of difficulty to him-and murmured against her collarbone, "why, Ishizu, I wouldn't have thought it of you… you've made my job so simple," and unhooking the clasp as she replied softly through gritted teeth, "well, I didn't want to provide you with any problems, Seto… I mean, who-who knows how compromised you would-would be…" and as he lifted her out of her bra, directing her arms out of the straps, she cried, "Seto Kaiba, if you-you don't put your hand back there right now, I swear to god…" She bucked her hips upward, almost unconsciously, as she lifted her head to kiss his neck.

Seto moved his head and nibbled on her earlobe again. "Put my hand back where?" he inquired innocently, running his long fingers along the outside of her panties and making her nearly scream with frustration. "Seto..."

Bastard. Ishizu removed one of her hands from his shoulders, lowered it downwards, grasped his teasing hand, and pushed it underneath her panties with no small sense of urgency.

Seto almost laughed with delight, and Ishizu moaned as he resumed what he'd been doing, stoking the fire burning there, burning all wetly and perfectly, and then she felt him groan when he pressed two fingers inside, felt him pressed hard against her thigh, his pants and their underwear the only barriers between them, and oh, god, his other hand was on her breast, circling the nipple teasingly before he lowered his head and kissed it, then the other, and began to suck on one while his hand attended to the other. Ishizu left her body then, for a moment, and just felt. Didn't think, didn't try to speak, didn't try to reason, because the only things that kept her tethered to this world were the now three fingers moving inside her, getting all wonderfully slick, and his hand on her breast and fuck, his teeth as he grazed them against the other.

And then he was removing his hand, prompting her to nearly cuss him out, as he placed his lips on her throat and slid down the bed towards the floor, peppering her body with kisses until his mouth reached…

He lifted his head, eyes twinkling wickedly, and caught her gaze with his own. "Should I…?" and then he grazed his teeth against the place she desperately needed him to touch, to, to...

"Fuck." Ishizu's lower body nearly shook from pure want as her eyes met his; she found herself astonished by the lust, yes, but also by the… reverence? she supposed it was? that glimmered in his icicle-blue eyes, made slightly darker, the pupils enormous. His lips were pressed against her inner thigh, eyes wide and awaiting her answer, and she nearly wanted to laugh aloud, for who would have thought Seto Kaiba, of all people, would be someone who enjoyed this sort of thing with his partners?

At least, it certainly didn't square with how he'd presented himself thus far, treating her pleasure as a way to stroke his own ego, and yet… it was quite nearly unselfish, yes, unselfish of him to want to do this, to focus on making her feel what she could feel with him rather than just trying to get off the old-fashioned way… not that she didn't want that as well, but still...

A blush appeared on her cheeks, blooming delicately and vividly at the same time, and she became aware he was awaiting her answer, lips and hands frozen in place as the look in his eyes turned warm and strange and wet with something she couldn't quite name, didn't want to guess at naming, and she nodded and whispered hoarsely, "yes", and then she threw back her head and nearly keened when he pulled her panties down her legs with his teeth and dove back up to her…

Oh, god.

Seto felt her hands clutch at his hair, her breathing gloriously erratic, and smiled inwardly as he continued his motions, every pulse of his tongue circling her making him feel impossibly wanted and wanting, and then he lifted his head for a moment, prompting her to nearly shout at him to keep going, and unbuttoned his trousers, sliding out of them smoothly and quickly, and discarding his socks too for that measure, before curling his hands under her rear and lifting up her hips before doing something with his tongue that very nearly undid her.

Let it be known that Seto Kaiba did indeed enjoy this sort of thing. The incredible feel of her on his tongue as she shifted and rolled her hips needily only spurred him onward, and, with a smile against her that she could feel even in her compromised state, began to trace his name against her clit with his tongue. Right now, Ishizu Ishtar, right now... you're mine. She barely understood what he was doing, and just pushed his head downward, whimpering, "more, Seto... please..." and who was Seto to deny such a polite request? She had said "please", after all... so he lifted his head for a minute to catch his breath before diving back towards her incredible soaking center, adding a finger to the routine for good measure.

Oh, god.

Oh, fuck.

He was rewarded with a string of gibberish. Ishizu felt the pressure building, the delicious glorious sharp slope burning and just dying to explode with stars and color, and knew, knew as much as she'd ever known anything, that she wanted-no, needed him on top of her and pressed inside her. Now.

She lifted her head and watched him for a moment as he quite nearly joyfully moved his head between her legs, a smile creeping onto her lips, before murmuring, "Seto, please…"

He lifted his head from the perfection of her and saw the acute need in her eyes, and climbed back on top of the bed as Ishizu leaned over the side of the bed, scrabbling for one of the foil-wrapped packets and handing it to him; his hands shook unexpectedly, as she pulled down his boxers-of course they would be silk, she mused wryly-and then she heard his voice, surprisingly sheepish, as he muttered, "um, Ishizu, could you please get another one of those?"

Ishizu nearly goggled at him before scooping up another condom and turning it over in her fingers. "Seto, did you tear the condom?"

Seto's cheeks burned as his hands trembled relentlessly, mind scrambling, trying desperately to understand what the fuck had just happened. He'd been so distracted by her, that must be it, so distracted and wanting and ready that, ahem, he'd torn open the wrapper a mite too vigorously and created a paper-thin tear at the base of the rubber.

This sort of thing had never happened to him before.

Fuck.

Despite herself, Ishizu nearly giggled at this show of embarrassment, running her free hand along his inner thigh until he groaned thickly as she touched him exactly where she ought. "You're such an amateur, Seto Kaiba," she whispered teasingly against his collarbone, running her other hand through his hair and trailing it down the back of his neck to settle there. She pressed her lips to his for a moment. "Want me to take care of that part?"

Seto could only nod in bewilderment and wonder who this thoroughly captivating woman was below him, the woman who had nearly melted at his touch earlier that day in her office, and yet who was now sliding the condom onto him with practiced ease, and that strange feeling in his chest that he felt when he looked into those dark, needy eyes, and saw a thousand things he'd never thought to see reflected back at him.

Is this how Ishizu Ishtar is during…

A sinking, devastating thought thought crept into his unwilling brain. Or is she just… Had she drunk more than he'd thought, was her tolerance that weak?

"Are you sure?" Seto found himself asking, heart in his throat. Was she drunk? Was that why they found themselves in this position?

Ishizu's head had never felt clearer, her aim more direct. Any stars that burst inside of her came from him, this, what they were doing, and not from any alcohol. She nodded and shifted beneath him, her eyelids fluttering.

Confidence restored, Seto smirked and ran a hand down her chest, skimming her navel, and curling around to hoist her rear off the bed, giving him a better angle of access.

He bent down and nipped at her neck, gently brushing himself against her teasingly.

"You know," he said against her heated flesh, "maybe I should just stop right here and let you, ahem, collect yourself..." Ha. Of course he had no intention of doing so, but the whine of protest the idea tore from Ishizu's throat was immensely amusing.

"Shut up," she said again with a smile, and pulled him to her.

"Make me," came the sing-songy reply.

She looked into his eyes, sharply and warmly, and positioned him against her, spreading her legs open wide, a tiny smile of victory curling on her lips.

"Make me come."

And as he pressed a kiss to her lips, he pushed into her, her glorious tight heat, and nearly collapsed against her; that was how utterly indescribably incredible this was, to feel her around him, to feel the way she pulled on his hair, ran her hands down his shoulders and curled around to his back, digging in her fingernails as the most unholy beautiful noises he'd ever heard erupted from her throat.

"Oh… god…" It was not as if Ishizu Ishtar was a stranger to sex, and while it had been quite a while for her, Seto had done his job well; there was barely any unpleasantness when he first entered her, and as he increased his pace, sucking on her neck and circling his fingers on her breast, she felt nothing but heat, heat and want, and something unquenchable taking hold of her; yet she knew he would be able to quench it, if only because it was him, because this was happening now and it felt even better, somehow, than she'd imagined it would be, and then she needed even more of him, wanted to feel him in every cell of her body, and so she curled her legs around his back and pulled his hips even closer against her, pulling him in deeper, her toes curling as he let out the most satisfying groan.

"Fuck. Ishizu…" he panted against her neck, finding a steady rhythm with his hips, "you feel…" Impossible. Unimaginable. His heart hammered unmercifully in his chest; somehow, dammit, this woman, this woman he'd seen as an object, a mere acquisition, a notch on his belt, an amusing game of sport for him… being here, being in her arms like his and hearing her whimper every time he shifted inside her made him nearly want to weep.

Seto Kaiba enjoyed sex, enjoyed it vigorously and often and well, and while he'd felt pleasure with the women he'd treated callously and capriciously, fucked and fucked again and made their mouths round, their voices hoarse with his name and his name only, he'd never felt something quite so stirring as the crinkle in Ishizu Ishtar's forehead as she clutched at him, pulling him in closer, eyes blinking wetly and erratically as he found that perfect spot.

Ishizu felt her knees go weak against his sides, and as a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead onto hers, she knew she was close, oh god, she was close, and she was going to have him come too, along with her; she didn't care if they broke the damned bed, and so she lifted her forehead and whispered throatily in his ear, "Seto, I-I'm…"

And with a groan he rolled them over until she was on top and could take him even deeper, and she arched her back, catlike, as his hands grasped her hips and held her against him, and then she nearly crumpled against him and pressed her lips to his feverishly, tasting him, feeling his fucking amazing tongue against hers, biting his lip until it nearly hurt, as his hands slid up her torso to tease her breasts.

Seto gazed up at her and somehow found the energy to smirk, watching her come undone by his own doing spurring him to find that last drop of energy, that last bucking of his hips as he, too, was dangerously close. He lifted a hand to the back of her neck and held her in close to him, murmuring in her ear, "Ishizu, do you want to come?"

Ishizu could only moan as he rolled his hips again, biting her lip as Seto, that asshole Seto Kaiba, sucked on her neck and asked again in that blasted cheeky way, knowing full well the answer. "You-you know I want to…" she managed to gasp out before his mouth claimed hers.

Seto grinned sharply, predatory, knowing the glorious end was within both their grasps. "Say my name," he panted in her ear, before returning to that gorgeous throat laid bare for him, complimenting his kisses with a roll of his hips that nearly melted her.

"Seto…" Ishizu's voice was hoarse, so his name burst forth from her lips quietly, too quietly for his liking, and he smirked against her neck. "Louder, Ishizu."

The way she practically shouted his name in response, her voice thick and heavy and just right, and the feel of her breasts brushing against his chest, spent him right here, toppling him down from that peak in a whirlwind of fire, and she soon joined him, bodies shuddering together, hearts hammering, flighty, in their chests, eyes brimming with unacknowledged tears, as she bit his shoulder to stifle her moans and their bodies soon slowed down and they began to breathe, gently and almost tenderly, in sync with one another.

After her breaths slowed and evened out to a normal rate, she felt obligated to roll off him, to collapse beside him on the bed while he took care of the condom, but instead he lifted himself up, still inside her, until she was sitting on his lap once more. What is he…?

Seto couldn't explain for the life of him why he ran his fingers through her hair slowly and meaningfully, his eyes meeting hers, before kissing her softly on the forehead and hoisting her off him with utmost care to lie by his side.