Her lower lip quivering under his cold fingertip. Her warm breath ghosting like a soft breeze caressing his face. Her indigo eyes began to grow hazy, he knew he could drown in those orbs forever, never escaping this trapped hell.
His fingers slowly traced downwards, to her enticing neck, before going lower between the valley of her pert breasts. His eyes never left hers as he kneaded them, flickered her hardened nipples with the pad of his thumbs, and lowered his mouth to each of them, taking his sweet time teasing her, tasting her. Oh, he could never get enough of her heavenly taste. Especially her sweet juices, he could lap at her clit endlessly, enjoying the feeling of her fingers tugging at his hair, and her wanton shrieks- they were music to his ears.
Small moans escaped her lips, her legs reflexively wrapped around his waist under his skillful touch. Her hips rolled against his, and he groaned, and smirked as he could smell her arousal growing stronger. Her legs tightened around him, and in that moment, he knew that she couldn't wait anymore. She wanted him, desperately, that it hurt... him.
She wasn't his. She was never his. Her heart had always belonged to Kaneki. But the bastard was gone. The bastard left her. And between the frustration and loneliness, the heartbroken and wanting to feel needed by someone, she sought him out. And he relished in their fake relationship. Or her fingers when they clawed at the muscles of his back. Of her loud moans when he thrust into her a bit too roughly, kissing her cervix with each pounding. Of her snug walls milking him when she came, and pathetically it made him came too, spilling his hot seed inside her which she didn't mind at all. Of her sweat on her body when she came from her high, making her glistened, and she looked more beautiful than ever. Of her sharp tongue on his when she kissed him afterwards, making him feel frenzied with desire to just kiss her again and again and again.
He just loved kissing her. He could feel her desperation in each of their kisses. How her knees felt weak when he just knew how to nibble, how to suck, how to explore her hot little mouth which left her breathless. He stole her first kiss. He ripped her virginity. He took those and yet, and yet, she wasn't his. Never his.
"I love you." He muttered. He had fallen deep, so deep, that he couldn't climb out. He couldn't escape this hell. Her presence made him feel serene. Her lustful gaze gave him strength, power. Her embrace made him feel vulnerable. She stared at him, wide eyes, before she turned her head to look away. Sadness and guilt displayed on her beautiful face. And he knew, he knew, that she would never return his feelings.
But it was fine. Even if her heart wasn't his, at least- her body would be his forever. And he would do his best to give her pleasure, to make her scream his name and beg for him to pound into her wildly- oh how ironic when it was actually him who couldn't wait to be buried inside her warm, tight folds. When it was actually him who begged her to ride him. When it was actually him who was desperate for her soft lips against his own, his chest, and his throbbing dick. He didn't mind becoming her slave forever, as he had fallen deep into the abyss of the enigma called Kirishima Touka.