Is it possible to write a naughty scene without explicit references? I don't know, you tell me, but I was curious to try
I also wanted to thank all of you who took time to review. I wasn't planning on writing another chapter, but I did it for you.
Again, I own no part of Hazuki (shame on you, Hazuki), Hei, or any of the other Darker Than Black characters. Mores the pity.
"Untie me, Hazuki, please." His voice was even more delicious when he begged. His limbs, as graceful in battle as his name implied, were trembling uncontrollably. He had given up on threats and curses an hour ago. Now he begged, and with good reason. She had been teasing him for four hours. She ran her fingertips down the smooth length of his spine, as he hung suspended from the ceiling, his ankles spread and leashed to the rings she had driven into the floor. She smiled as his flesh quivered. Her hand then closed around the crank she had installed on the wall while he had lay unconscious upstairs. She released the catch, but only enough to allow him to sit on the stool she had provided.
"You want release? Then do as you're told. Sit," she said, her breath ghosting across his ear.
It had been easy to lull him into a sense of complacency. Over the last three months, they had worked together to avoid the American forces that hunted them. He had become accustomed to her, but only allowed her close for her remuneration. He would then withdraw—shy from her touch, her kiss. She decided to bide her time. Hazuki always got what she wanted, and he ate enough that slipping something into his food had proven easy.
He turned expressive, twilight eyes onto her. Eyes so full of emotion, she had no doubt that it was Hei looking at her. Her Hei, and no one else. She had discovered very early on that there were two other possibilities when it came to this man.
He had made a remark that day she wrenched him from the side of his dead, one that had confused her at first. She soon learned what his puzzling remark had meant as they had sought to escape the CIA. She watched as he dipped two slender fingers into a pool of water. His eyes dulled, as if he were no more than a doll. And at that moment, he was just that. When she asked about it, his smile was self-deprecating.
A wish had been made by his little doll, the one she knew as Izanami. A wish that he would be protected and that Izanami—no, Yin—would always be with him. Now she was, in a way. And for protection, his sister, Pai, had been returned to him. At first, Hazuki tried to explain her sudden infatuation with him using the two women, but quickly realized she was deluding herself. That first kiss was before the wish. No, these women within him hid what had drawn her.
She was unnerved by the deadened look that overtook him when he used the specters. She had to suppress the urge to check his life signs. And when he used his sister's gift, his expression was so similar to that of a doll. But even when he wasn't using their talents, he hid behind them. She didn't want them.
No. She no longer tried to rationalize her obsession. She accepted it. She wanted Hei, but to get to him, she had to break down their defense of him. So she had. She could now see Hei, and what a sight he was.
As he struggled against the velvet ties and bindings that held him, she thought he had never looked more breathtaking. Hei was far from indifferent or emotionless. He was desperate, passionate—beautiful.
She had planned this for some time, though the thought had occurred the first day this obsession with him took root. And he had fought it, just as she knew he would.
"Please, don't make me," he begged, a glassy sheen to those exquisite eyes. A single drop of sweat trickled down his temple, or would have, but a swipe of her tongue caught it.
Her fingers combed through sweat-slicked locks of midnight hair. "Sit. Do this, and I will grant you release," she promised, her fingers lightly caressing the velvet bow that prevented him. He whined. His back arched as he sought to prolong the contact. "Sit," she ordered, mercilessly withdrawing her hand.
She watched in utter fascination as his teeth clenched and he wrenched at his hands in yet another desperate attempt to break her knots, to break free. His chest heaved with his effort to draw breath after his struggle. She knew when he finally decided to submit to the order. His head fell forward, and his hands wrapped around the slackened bindings above. He pulled himself high enough to hover over the object protruding from the seat of the stool. A stool she had made especially for him.
She moved behind him, allowing her hands to skate across shoulder blades before sliding down his sides, glancing across his ribs, and gripping his hips to move them into position. But as he was slowly breached, she couldn't resist the sight of his face. She stepped over one slender ankle to move before him. "Look at me, Hei. I want to see you," she told him, her hand grasping his chin and lifting his face to meet her own.
His lips were trembling, as was the rest of him, from the strain of controlling his descent. His expression was a blend of pleasure and pain, as well as resignation. "Open your eyes, Hei," she ordered. As his eyes fluttered open, she stepped flush against his hovering frame, her hands desperately exploring his spread thighs, his abdomen—everywhere—as her teeth nipped at those tempting lips.
Her eyes, though, never left his. She sensed hesitation in him, his descent halted. Her hands came to rest on his hips, and she kissed him. Her tongue delved in, attempting to taste all the mystery that was Hei. She explored his mouth as if it was their first kiss, and she still wanted more. She could feel the tremors through his body now as he fought to hold himself aloft. Her grip tightened on his hips and pressed down. She swallowed his cry as he was driven home on the seat. She broke the kiss.
"Hei," she said, her voice soft against his temple. "Never hide from me again, Hei." She slipped a leg through the spokes on the stool, holding it in place as she shifted his hips against the hard surface. His head fell back with a cry. "Promise me," she said, shifting his hips once more. "Promise you will never hide behind them again."
"I . . ." his voice broke as she swiveled his hips this time, and he fought to muffle a scream. "I promise! Please!"
Hazuki untangled herself from her captive and the stool, and stepped back to admire the view. The black velvet that trailed across his chest, his thighs and arms—as well as far more intimate parts—made a lovely contrast to his quivering flesh. "You can wear your masks for the rest of the world, but you will let me see you," she said, as she moved against him once more. "To touch you," she added, her fingertips flickering across the line of his jaw. "To taste you," she whispered, as she bent to suckle his collarbone. "To hear you," she said, as she shifted his hips against the stool once more, eliciting a soft cry.
"You will let me close, Hei," she told him, as she buried one hand in his hair, wrenching his head back, while the other grasped the bindings at his wrists to pull herself up. "You will not push me away," she said, as she mounted him, pulling a moan from herself as well as Hei.
Three months he had held her at bay, and four hours it had taken to force his submission. Four hours that had been as torturous to her as to him. She grinded her hips against his, and he was writhing beneath her—impaled and impaling. "Hazuki! Please!"
She reached between them and untied the little black ribbon at his base, and she was kissing him again, devouring him. She laced her ankles in the spokes of the stool to hold it in place as she rode him hard, swallowing his cries. She broke off the kiss, but kept her eyes locked with his, enjoying every emotion that swirled in their night-tinged depths. "Hei," she said, her voice strained by emotions that, as a contractor, she had all but forgotten. "Beautiful Hei." She wanted to draw out their intimacy a little longer, but three months of forced abstinence had taken its toll, shortening the ride that had them both screaming as they reached the end. When his warmth flooded her, his eyes rolled back as he slipped into oblivion.
She held him close as he slept, unwilling to be separated from him just yet. This man had upset her equilibrium in every way possible. She no longer existed as merely a contractor. She felt. She lived. She loved. He could stir so many emotions within her with just a glance. She had come close to this with Youko, but had never reached it. She glanced out the tiny basement window to see night had fallen. It was fitting, since so had she.