If It Wasn't For Him
I ask myself the same questions all the time, but it doesn't seem to matter. He still struts around, throwing me into cars, onto the sofa, or even into a hot spring at a moment's notice. I wish I had an answer for half of the things I ask myself, but that bastard landlord of mine -boyfriend of mine- if one could even call him that, hates when I think too hard.
It bothers him, so much in fact, that he become a villain in his own right.
Why do I let him get away with anything he wants?
Why in the hell does it have to be a guy like him anyway?
Stupid, rich, bastard Usagi...
Why does he pull the crap that he does, trying my resolve to the brink?
Why do I even love a guy like that?
He manipulates everyone, and everything around him, just because he feels like it, the jerk.
Why should I even be interested in a guy at all…?
Why...
Damn it!
It's not about the way he kisses me. We've gone farther. It's not about the way he looks at me. He's seen more in the past. It's not even about idiotic cat-ate-the-canary smile. The fact is, his dirty grin can be – it is – so much worse. When he gives me that look, I know I'm done for. It's that stupid grin now, actually, that has me backpedaling down the hallway.
One food behind the other I slink further away, as he stalks me like his pray.
Without even thinking, I end up in out bedroom. Why the hell I backed up that far is beyond reason…then again, Usagi himself is beyond reprimand.
He moves faster almost instantly. I can't even find the air to protest. I'm flung to the bed, my head landing not on the feather pillow, but rather Suzuki. It seems as if the household's prized bear strikes again. No, I can't think of that, not as I force out a heated breath. I have to say something, but it's a lost cause. "Usagi, wait. Not now."
"It will be now." That low ruble of his, deep and gentle catches me off my guard. "It has to be."
He strips himself of his tie and his shirt in a near predatory glee. It pisses me off so much, the white glimmer of his teeth nipping at the edges of his tongue. He's biting down on more than just his thoughts. He's biting down on his desire too. When he's like this, there's just no winning. He'll make a mess of me before the end of the night, he's good at that.
Damn subjugation at its finest…but If I protest, I'll make it worse.
I don't dare move, looking into his eyes the same way one might gaze into an abyss. I know then, as he leans down to kiss me, that I have been negligent once again. Maybe, in some ways, I have been more than just a little absentminded, I've been downright ignorant. I can do no more than quietly accept his kiss, his tongue taunting mine. His large hands drifted over my neck, scrunching up the collar of my shirt.
"Usagi?" I murmur, a question I'm not entirely sure of. It sits at the edge of my lips when we finally part. He has no answer to this as he shakes his head.
"You piss me off." He says it so strictly. "I don't like waiting." Perfectly against the shell of my ear, he growls as he leans in, nipping down hard on the exposed flesh of my neck.
I shiver, and in this one action, he knows.
He knows I would give into him, as I've done countless times before. I really don't mind him ravishing me, in both mind and body. Sweet nothings mixing with the taste of sweat, and the bite of teeth. My shirt's the next to go, dropping onto the floor mutely. My belt follows, landing on the train that twists around the room.
Even in this, he gives me nothing to hold onto. Then, there's that possessive gaze again, the softest color lavender I've ever seen darkens profusely. Before I know it, I'm at his mercy.
"Misaki…" He murmurs to me, as he gentles his eyes once more, lust no longer the one thing burning across my skin. That new look though, sickeningly sweet, prompts me to pull him back down on top of me.
"Don't do that, stupid jerk…" I say that in hopes to return that lustful expression back upon his features. One glance at him tells me everything. He'll have none of it. I can't begin to categorize the different feelings surging though my chest, and I really don't want to think about the throbbing I feel down below.
"Do it more, you mean." There's humor there, sure, but there's something else too. Tenderness, maybe…but something else more, just at the edges of his tone. It's something laden with only the deepest wells of human nature, and once again, as he unsnaps the top button to my trousers, I feel myself ache.
I know he feels the same pent up restriction.
No protest is good enough.
No insult is harsh enough.
Not even begging would make him relent.
I can see the bulge in his pants.
I can feel his heart pointing.
In every single way, his small hints of arousal, they wash over me.
As his lips grip my cock, I grip the sheets.
I grip the sheets even harder when he releases me from the brink of total euphoria. With a grin on his lips, he offers me one teasing little lick before righting himself and dragging his own jeans, and underwear, down in one fell swoop.
He'll suck me dry, then he'll ride me until I'm broken and spent once more, heaving for air…and then, he'll take me again…just for good measure. Fucking Usagi…fucking stupid, idiot Usagi. This is why I hate when he locks himself in his office. This type of aftermath. This heated gaze, burning into me. He's already dreaming up horrendous things…heinous things.
Things that I never once considered, before feeling his touch, and melting in his embrace.
That stupid bastard has me right where he wants me, under him, a broken mess. This isn't something I would do for just anyone, in fact, this isn't something I'd probably do at all, if it wasn't for Usagi.
Fucking Usagi...