Laying Claim
Shigure was no stranger to romance. It was, and had always been something that came very naturally to him. Perhaps it was his flirtatious nature, or maybe it was because he spent so much time with the flamboyant Ayame. In any case he acted as any twenty something year old man could be expected to act. Like a dog, pun intended. But Akito had been another case entirely. She hadn't been an object of lust, but rather a fascinating conquest.
She was masquerading as a man, and she had an insane mother. She was corrupt and twisted. Desperate for loyalty, and begging for control. And something about that made him want to take her until she screamed.
Which, he did, on numerous occasions. He smiled bitterly. Tohru and the boys were out, leaving him with his regrets hanging around him like the tender wisps of smoke from his cigarette.
Kureno couldn't love her. Not the way he had. His embraces were of pity, his kiss and movements no doubt gentle. Kureno knew nothing of her body, no matter how often she allowed him access to it. He had never kissed her hard like he meant it, never fisted his hand in her hair with enough grip for it to sting. Never rubbed himself on her slick opening until she lost all sense of composure.
That stupid rooster did whatever she told him too. Never refused her. There is something glorious in refusing a woman. Akito had once been as demanding of him as she was with Kureno. But he had taught her the roles. If she insists he kiss her, he'd bite her. If she wanted it hard, she'd get it slow. Those were the moments he remembered the most fondly of her. Akito was a lot of things, but a cold lover she was not. She was warm and alive, and beautiful in her ecstasy.
Ren had been good for his revenge, but he had felt dirty. The way she had acted during the act was shameful. She was a warm body, but he had never felt anything colder. She had been aloof, rigid. Ren too had been merely driven by anger at her daughter.
Bedding Ren had only managed to make him remember Akito more, the way she grabbed his tie and tugged him near, her ardent demands. He had taught her to beg, and she did so well. She hated going slow, so he made it his mission to tease her. His breathe, his touch, the pace at which he slid into her, always so slow. By the time he was done with her, tears of relief would spring from those dark ayes.
And she'd beg him to go faster, harder. He could make God plead. He could make the head of the family beg. Time and time again she had allowed him to do this, and he knew why. He infuriated her, he had hurt her as much as she had hurt him, but he was the only man who had ever had the privilege of truly claiming her body. And that got her hot.
Until the curse broke, and she collapsed with it, he would wait. Kureno could be her pet; he could have her body for now. The man would never have any part of her. He could take her daily, and never speak to anyone else, and he would never have her, not like he once had.
Shigure knew in the back of his mind, that when Akito closed her eyes, and bit down on Kureno's neck, she was thinking of him. When she shattered and cried out as he pummeled into her tight heat, she was thinking of him. Call him possessive, but she was his, and always had been.
And no horny rooster could ever help her forget that.