AN: A gift for the wonderful people who reviewed my other NekoxHaru fic: The Wedding Night.
Disclaimer: I am not Japanese. I am not a manga-ka. Therefore, I do not own any of the following characters. Only the situation they have been placed in. Thank you.
She bit her lip as she silently made her way through the dim corridor in the basement of Ouran's North Wing. This was not the first time she had done this, and it most certainly would not be the last. Haruhi knew that the other hosts would be shocked, maybe even appalled, if they knew what she was doing behind their backs, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It had become an addiction.
The air in the hall was damp, and she was tempted to shiver at the chill that pierced her overly-expensive uniform. However, she had reached her destination and knew that soon enough the cold would be the last thing on her mind. Her mind raced with images of their past meetings. The memories were like photographs, each depicting a scene having to do with the man behind the door. The door opened, creating a resonating squeal that echoed through the deserted halls of the wing. She stepped inside.
"Nekozawa-senpai?" Her inquiry was quieter than she had hoped, her throat having become used to lack of speech in a short amount of time. She did not have to wait long. He was behind her in an instant and his lips danced across her neck, suckling and pulling on the tender flesh as she gasped in a sort of almost-surprise. The chilled air and his warm lips swirled and combined into an arousing combination and her skin became ultra-sensitive. In the dark of the room she could not see him, but she could hear him. She could hear his wig brush against his skin, and she could hear his arms move away from his cloak. She gave a guttural moan as his hands slid over her arms and sides. Her hands moved from their position at her side and smoothed their way through the silky hair of his wig. Her breath hitched and her nipples stood at attention. He gave a dark chuckle and spun her around to face him.
"Again you come to me Haruhi, and yet you refuse to admit that you belong to me. No matter, you will be screaming your passion soon enough." Umehito growled in his darkly seductive way. "Even the Black Gods who you so desperately deny will be amazed at your supplication."
"I belong to no one, least of all a man who cannot differentiate between fantasy and reality." Haruhi exclaimed, though she no longer knew if what she said was true. The conviction behind that statement had been crumbling ever since the first time he had possessed her. Nekozawa ignored her taunt and descended upon her lips, his hands busily removing her jacket, shirt, and tie in an obviously practiced manner. Haruhi's tongue danced with his in a fight for dominance that they both knew he would win.
Before she knew it, Haruhi was exposed. Nekozawa smirked as he took advantage of her nakedness and his hands ghosted over her bare skin. Her heart was beating an erratic rhythm on the inside of her ribcage as his fingers reached her breasts. He pushed her down so that she lay on a cushioned bench in front of his altar.
"Who do you belong to, my fragile wax doll?" He asked her breathily. Her hands-which were now on his shoulders- tensed.
"I belong to no one." She said with no small amount of difficulty. She was on the verge of panting from his ministrations.
Nekozawa just continued his previous motions. His hands were cold as a corpse, but their temperature only served to heighten Haruhi's arousal. Her sex gushed with another roll of fluids when, with no warning, he moved his mouth to her breasts. He did not go straight for her nipples. Instead, he placed open-mouthed kisses above them and to the sides, carefully avoiding the taut buds that begged for his attention. His tongue drew a line on the undersides of her breasts and she groaned so deeply it must have come straight from her soul. She was beginning to glisten, but he didn't pay attention to that. He was too focused on getting the girl who had been coming to him for months now to admit she needed him like a bat needs insects.
"Who do you belong to?" Nekozawa asked demandingly. His voice sounded like a mixture of a growl and a gasp.
"No…one," Haruhi panted, barely remembering to respond because he had turned his attention to her nipples, nipping and sucking, and twirling his tongue around in such a distracting way… He reached out in the dark and picked something up off of his alter. He removed her hands from their place on his shoulders and used whatever had been on his altar to tie them together. He kissed his way from her hairline to her navel before he paused. He trailed a finger down the center of her chest. He straddled her legs and lit one of the candles on the altar.
"I want to see your face when you admit that you are mine." His face was a combination of smugness and shadows. Haruhi just now realized that she wasn't the only one who lacked clothing. Nekozawa wore his wig, but other than that he was completely nude. He was not like other men that she had seen. He was not overtly muscular, however he wasn't flabby either. He had a kind of soft slenderness to him.
She was about to look lower to get her first proper glance of something she had become familiar with by feel if not by sight when he moved her legs apart. He resumed the trailing of his finger down to her dripping wet opening. He moved so that he was horizontal with her, supporting his weight on one arm which he placed to the side of her head. His finger slid over her slit, moving her slickness from clit to perineum. Then he sunk his index finger completely into her. Haruhi's head tossed from side to side as he thrust the single digit into her damp sex, soon replacing it with two, then three fingers.
"Please… No more." Haruhi moaned, she was eager to be filled. "I need more than just fingers."
Umehito let out a deep throated laugh and licked his fingers clean before settling himself between her thighs. He positioned himself at her entrance and thrust deep into her before giving her a second to adjust.
"Who do you belong to, Haruhi?" He asked roughly between body-jerking thrusts.
"I…" Haruhi gasped, drowning in pleasure. "I.. belong… to…" Her train of thought was experiencing technical difficulties due to the Black Magic Priest who was driving into her with wild abandon. Nekozawa's thrusts sped up.
"Yes….!" He hissed, pounding into her welcoming body, feeling her cunt clutch around his organ.
As she was blinded by the waves of bliss that came with her climax she groaned heavily. She began babbling, not that she was aware of it.
"You! I belong to you, Umehito. Always you." Her hot, wet, clutching sleeve coupled with her words practically chased the climax out of him. He thrust forward and grunted, spending himself inside of her. His arms shook and he fell onto her, just lying still for a moment before kissing her forehead.
"And now you admit it."
AN: Leave a review? Please no flames. Polite constructive criticism is welcome however.