Title: Possession
Fandom: Loveless
Pairing: Yamato/Kouya
Rating: R.
Word Count: 473
Summary/Description: Yamato tastes like a drug, and it is no wonder that Kouya always wants to be with her. She cannot live any other way.
Warning/Spoilers: Yuri. Porning. :3
A/N: Written for the Loveless Anonymous Kink Meme. Request: Kouya/Yamato - with a little bit of bondage. The requester wanted Kouya to top, sooo, here you have it. Who says I'm not versatile? 8D
Disclaimer: Insert witty denial of ownership here.
"Where were you?" Kouya's voice is flat, but her eyes glitter behind her spectacles. They follow Yamato as she walks away from the door and into the room. "You said that you would meet me for four o'clock; it's seven."
"Did I, now?" Yamato's voice is airy and uncaring. She doesn't bother to mask her grin. "I must have lost track of time." She flops herself down on the bed, and smirks up at her Sacrifice. It is a daring smile, one that challenges Kouya to do something.
The dark-haired girl arches a brow, and adjusts her glasses.
"Well."
She steps forward, and slowly undoes the tie of her school uniform. Yamato, eyes flashing, has already begun to unbutton her shirt. She is wearing the racy black lace brassiere that always makes Kouya's heart skip a beat.
"Perhaps I ought to get you a watch."
Their knees are touching now; Kouya's face colours a bit at the brevity of Yamato's skirt; especially since the blonde is lying down, and her long slim legs are laid bare. Kouya wraps the tie around her hands, almost contemplatively.
Yamato's smile is nothing if not impish.
"Perhaps." The bra is flung to the side, and Kouya is having a little trouble breathing now. Nevertheless, she climbs onto the bed, a knee on either side of her Sacrifice's waist. Yamato's hair is in a disarray, her lips are blood red, her skin is a dusky hue and she is so perfect, perfect as she smiles up at Kouya with all teeth and no inhibitions. She raises her arms over her head. "Or…"
"Or, I could simply…" Kouya knots the tie around Yamato's wrists loosely, and bends over to kiss her mouth, the bridge of her glasses bumping into Yamato's nose. Her hand grips her breast perhaps a bit more forcefully than she had at first intended. Yamato tastes like a drug, and it is no wonder that Kouya always, always, always wants to be with her. She cannot live any other way.
Yamato presses up against her hand, urging her to take more, and at the same time angles her neck to dominate the kiss. Kouya doesn't allow it. She pinches a nipple before massaging it gently with her fingers, and Yamato's growl turns into a moan.
When they pull away, they are both out of breath.
"Or I could simply keep you like this," Kouya finishes, sliding of her glasses and shoving them away. Right now she wants nothing better than to trace her hands all over Yamato's body, further memorising those curves, those limbs, that face, that smile.
That smile that crooks up at the edges like the blade of a knife as Yamato looks at her with such fondness it breaks her heart.
"There's that," Yamato agrees, and pulls her back down for another kiss.