Warning: NSFW. This is pretty much PWP. I…am not sorry. LOL.
Room 203
I. Cain Heel
"Open Me."
Kyoko placed the note back into its envelope and looked at the box on their bed with some suspicion. It was Kuon's birthday. His thirtieth birthday. She hadn't seen him in a week—he'd been shooting a new movie in the U.S. and she'd been unable to meet him at the airport when he got back. They'd both been working extra hours to free up days for their long weekend.
Kuon's birthday weekend.
Their Valentine's day weekend.
She'd asked him what he wanted, and all he'd asked for was her time. She was going to give that to him, anyway—her time was his whenever he wanted it, after all, just as his was her's.
They'd talked every single day, by text, by video, but it hadn't been the same. Kyoko missed him terribly, feeling how empty and vast that obscenely large California king bed was without him. His absence was driving her insane. He'd forbidden her from touching herself that week, telling her that he wanted her 'hungry for him,' and now the desire for him was pulsing in her, a core of unmet want that was harder to ignore now that she knew he was back and would soon be in her arms again. She'd always thought she had more self-control than this, but a week without him, without being able to find any release had made her constantly think about sex—or the lack thereof.
Apparently he'd been able to stop by their place before his next appointment, though, because this box had Kuon written all over it. She had no idea what she'd find in it…the last time she'd found a box like this on the bed, there had been a tiara and a set of angel wings and an obscene crystal-studded bra to wear with them…for no good reason at all. Another time, it had been filled with jasmine flowers for a role she'd been playing. Every time one appeared, she would yell at him for twenty minutes while he sat there with a goofy smile on his face. Typical Kuon. It was his birthday, but she was the one unwrapping a present.
She took a hold of the LoveMe-pink ribbon and pulled, pulling it out of the way as she opened the box.
Oh, she thought, surveying the contents. Oh.
She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as liquid heat pooled between her legs.
So that's what he wanted.
Kuon was an imaginative and innovative lover. They'd done…many things…in the years they'd been married. But this scene…well. Never quite this scene. But she'd be lying if she claimed she'd never thought about it.
There was an envelope perched precariously atop the outrageous blonde-wig-with-pink-tips, which she snatched and ripped open.
Setsuka—
Room 203, Canary Hotel, 7pm tonight. Wear what's in the box.
Love,
Nii-san
Their old room. He'd remembered, too. The room where she'd straddled him, stripped him of his shirt, and then marked him as hers. It was the very first time she'd ever touched a man. She could still remember what it felt like to run her hands down his hard torso, feel his skin on her bare thighs as she straddled him. How he'd smelled, the taste of his skin, the sound of his heartbeat racing as she bit and licked and sucked him the way he'd instructed her to.
When he'd left for the Tragic Marker set that day, she'd touched herself for the first time, cumming on her fingers and wishing for something she didn't quite understand. She'd been so innocent then.
For years afterwards she thought of that moment, wondering what would've happened if she hadn't stopped him.
She had a feeling she was about to find out.
She pulled out the clothes, piece by piece. The coat she'd been wearing. A bustier in lace and leather. A tiny mini-skirt, laced up with grommets on both sides. Shiny thigh-high boots. Lip cuff.
Somehow he must've figured out where she'd been hiding Setsu's outfits, because everything looked freshly laundered. And the wig looked new—it was entirely possible he'd gotten Ten in on this. He'd even included a flip phone just like the one she used to have.
He only got one thing wrong.
He'd assumed she'd been wearing Kyoko's panties throughout their stay in the hotel. What he'd packed in the box was something in the style of the panties she'd worn when they'd first started dating—a cute pink brief in cotton.
He hadn't peeked, then.
She giggled to herself, thinking of what her poor nii-san would've thought if she'd actually walked out of the bathroom as Setsu, and then went to her drawer to pick out a pair of what Chiori had called her 'carnivorous' underwear.
Setsuka was smiling a feral grin as she pulled out her dark vampy lipstick.
Nii-san, she thought, I'm going to blow your fucking mind.
=.=.=.=.=.=
Kuon checked into the Canary an hour before Kyoko was due. It had been nine years since the last time they'd been there, but somehow the place looked the same. Perhaps just a tad bit shabbier. These extended-stay hotels never really aged well, though it was still neat and clean. Ten had finished his transformation quicker than expected, and it hadn't taken him too long to change into the outfit Cain had been wearing that night. He spent some time stocking up the room with the things they'd had back then. Some groceries in the little mini-fridge. Toiletries arranged just so in the bathroom. Even Rick's watch, which he hadn't worn in years, was on his nightstand.
Nothing left to do, then, except get into character and wait for Setsu.
He popped open a can of beer and settled into the chair with a cigarette because Cain Heel was a smoker. And even if Kuon had given up the filthy habit long ago, he'd be damned if he'd lose to Kyoko on reprising this role—because he had no doubt she'd walk in as Setsu down to the very tips of her acid-pink fingernails.
The first time they'd made love he'd been scared of how happy she made him. Kyoko at twenty, legal at last, cumming on his cock, in his bed, her hands clutching him, his name on her lips—he'd thought, right then, that he was so happy he could die and not regret a thing. Surely the gods would punish them somehow, he'd thought. Perhaps she'd get tired of him. He'd never tire of her, of course, the very idea was absurd. But…surely this couldn't last.
But it did last, and it got even better—they'd gotten married a year later, they'd traveled the world, they'd won success after success in their respective careers. If their lovemaking had stayed as wholesome and as sweet as it had been during their first encounter, he still would have been blissfully happy. He would have buried the dark parts of his soul under Kyoko's loving innocence and worshiped her as his angel.
It surprised him, then, when he found out he didn't have to hide the urges he'd considered too deviant and perverted for his Kyoko. It shocked him more when he realized she didn't want him to, either.
The first time it happened, they'd just had one of their very rare fights. He'd been upset that she'd decided to do her own stunts for a new action film, rappelling off of a building. "Why?" she'd asked him. "You throw yourself off of buildings all the time, why can't I?"
"Because you're—" What he was going to say was because you're Kyoko, and if something happened to you, I'd die, but she was angry. Angrier than he'd ever seen her.
"What, because I'm a woman? Fuck you, Kuon," she'd said. She'd tried to leave, and he'd grabbed her, pinning her up against the wall, kissing her wildly, desperately, telling her, without so many words, that he was sorry but also please don't leave. When they came up for air her eyes were glazed with lust and he'd reacted like an animal, picking her up and throwing her onto the bed, tearing off her clothes without a trace of his usual gentleness or reserve. When he'd torn off her panties, he found that she was dripping for him and trembling under him. Even though she was spitting out curses at him, her mouth was reaching for his kisses. He'd fucked her. Hard. He'd held down her wrists and bitten into her neck, watching her mascara run down her face and licking up her tears with his tongue while rutting into her cunt, out of control and out of his mind. They'd cum together, and with the realization of what he'd done he'd been terrified she was going to leave.
"Kyoko…" But she surprised him again, kissing him, sucking his lip between her teeth until she drew blood. She reminded him that he was hers—and that meant all of him, including the dark bits he'd tried so hard to sublimate elsewhere.
He had never imagined—never even hoped to imagine—that love with Kyoko could be like that. He imagined that lesser men would have quailed under the intensity of what had followed. He had fantasized, of course, of certain nasty and perverted things, but he never even considered asking Kyoko to agree to them. But a soulmate was a soulmate, after all, and it turned out she matched him at his depths as well as she did at his heights. Of course she did. Where had Natsu obtained her viciousness? Where had Mio found her taste for blood? Where had Setsuka found what made her so fucking sexy? All of those women were his Kyoko.
It started with the usual fare. Handcuffs. Blindfolds. Spankings. It escalated a little later, when they were more comfortable with each other—spreader bars, nipple clamps, a collar. Power games that started with her on her knees and ended with both of them in complete surrender. One day, she showed up in a school uniform as Natsu, and he'd 'disciplined' her for bullying as Katsuki-sensei. And then there were other roles—she, an escort, him, a client, playing out their drama anonymously and under disguise in some of Tokyo's largest hotels. For her birthday last year, he'd rented a doctor's office and strapped her legs to the stirrups, stretching her wide open as he 'examined' her with his tongue and 'applied medicine' with an 'application rod.' He developed a taste for hearing her beg. She developed a taste for gagging on his cock.
The one thing they hadn't done was this. Even after all their years together, even after he'd realized how much of a complement to him she really was…they'd never discussed this night. He hadn't dared bring up this scene earlier—not when they'd first started dating, not when they'd first kissed, not the first time he'd made love to her. After Kyoko became more comfortable with her desires, they role-played and had all sorts of adventures. But they'd never touched this night. Kuon often wondered if she'd forgotten about it, but he refused to believe that she had. She simply wasn't the type to forget anything.
He leaned back into the chair and wondered for the hundredth time if he was the biggest pervert in Japan…or merely the biggest pervert in Tokyo. What kind of loving husband dug through his wife's closet to find an outfit that she'd worn when she was seventeen?.
He liked to tell himself that he never would've hurt her, or taken her past where she was comfortable back then. But the truth—the unvarnished truth—was that if she hadn't been so quick to flip him over, there would've been a high likelihood of him being arrested shortly thereafter. Even now, he remembered how he'd hooked his fingers into her bodice, half-crazed with jealousy and delirious with lust at the sight of those perky tits of hers just peeking out of that sweetheart neckline. Weeks of living in the same room with her, unable to touch her as she paraded around in Setsu's outfits—he was near his breaking point as it was. He'd been a split second from tearing off that top and devouring her. He hadn't been in control, and it had only been her intervention that brought him back.
Had she been scared?
Had he traumatized her?
Remembering the fact that he'd even been tempted to force her filled him with shame.
And the fact that he was hard as hell imagining it felt…complicated.
Was he being selfish, then, asking her to come here as Setsu?
He heard a sound at the door—the key-card—and he schooled himself into Cain Heel's quiet intensity.
He kept his eyes closed for a moment, hearing her walking into the room. Setsu's distinctive walk, the rattle of the chains on her boots and swish of her garters as she stepped forward like a sleek cat. She smelled like Setsu, too, a perfume of roses and patchouli overlaying the smell of leather—he hadn't been able to figure out what it had been back then, and it had driven him crazy.
"Tadaima, Cain," she said, and he allowed himself to look over at her slowly.
Holy fucking shit, he thought, and he wasn't sure if it was Kuon or Ren or Cain who thought it. Was it just the fact that he hadn't seen her in a week? Was it possible for a woman to get so much hotter? He remembered the Setsu of days past, had spent hours during those months stroking himself in the shower just to stay sane. He'd thought that Setsu was plenty fucking hot—though never hotter than the actress underneath, of course. But that had been then, and this was now. This Setsu made his memories seem pale and shallow. This is your fucking wife, you lucky fucking bastard! he told himself. Setsu at seventeen had been too hot for her own good, a slender strip of a girl just grown into young womanhood, sylphlike and spare. She had been a girl just discovering her power over men, unfamiliar with the arts of love but unwilling to admit it, playing off her innocence as deliberate action—in short, she'd been an unbearable tease. But Setsu at twenty-six was sex personified. They were the very same clothes, they were on the same woman, but there was an aura about this Setsu that sent the blood pooling down to his crotch with an immediacy he hadn't thought possible. Her breasts, which had been perky then were more voluptuous now, spilling over just a tiny bit more, making the outfit just a little more revealing than it had been. The figure which had been doll-like in that miniskirt now had curves to shame an hourglass. There was a knowing cadence to her walk, a lilt in the hips that didn't hint so much as promise. Knowing Kyoko, this adjustment had been deliberate. If she'd wanted to walk in as her seventeen-year-old self, she would have done so. Her intentions were broadcast loud and clear: this Setsu was down to play. He managed to keep that dazed expression on his face, looking her up and down languorously.
She caught his eye. "Aahh…were you asleep?" she asked.
"I guess," he responded.
She picked up the empty beer can he'd left on the floor on purpose. "You should sleep on your bed instead of falling asleep in a chair," she said.
"I don't care where I sleep," he responded, "I can't relax until you're home."
She smirked. "Poor nii-san," she said, "You can't even relax and fall asleep cuz you've got a cute imouto like me."
At least that bit about not being able to relax unless she's home is true, he thought. He hated being home without Kyoko. In the rare times he finished shooting before she did, he'd invariably head over to her shoot just to pick her up.
"You are so right," he told her, "Why don't I keep you in chains and lock you up in this room…so I'm the only one you'll ever need."
He…probably wouldn't tell her until later that he actually had bought a bunch of new chains for them to play with—along with a number of new and innovative toys. He'd stashed them in their condo, where he intended on keeping her busy after they checked out of the Canary.
"I'd love it." She smirked and put a finger up to her dark-red mouth, nibbling on it as she posed in front of him in contrapposto.
He just stared. He couldn't help it. He was half-tempted to abort the rest of this scene and take her right there. He knew where the next part of this scene needed to go—knew that she needed to get a phone call, knew he needed to fly in a jealous rage. He had the number to the phone he'd left her, was going to hit the speed dial function to dial the number surreptitiously when the phone started ringing.
Of course she'd planned that. She began looking for the phone, rifling through her pockets, finally arriving at her coat and frantically flipping open the phone.
Showtime, he thought, and mustered all the hostility he could as he plucked the phone from her hands and looked at it disdainfully. Sho Fuwa, the Caller ID said. A surprise. It hadn't said that back then—Sho had been calling her from a blocked number—but the fact that his name was on that screen called out the real darkness Kuon had been feeling back then. He let it fill him, letting it course through his body, letting that long-latent violence in him come roaring out. Even though Sho and Kyoko had settled their differences long ago—even though they treated each other more like siblings now—he remembered just how furious he'd been, how heartsick, how absolutely jealous he was of this guy who had treated his girl like shit and yet still had a hold on her heart. The Kyoko of today looked at him with that very same surprise and discomfort that she'd had nine years ago as he hit 'end call' repeatedly on the phone. Without breaking her gaze he threw the phone behind him, hearing it ricochet off of the table and onto the floor. Was that really Sho calling this time? he wondered. The phone was a real phone, though it was the kind one bought pre-paid minutes for. There had been a real phone number on the screen.
"What's the matter?" he asked as she took a step back. She was playing Shocked Kyoko to a tee, slowly backing away from him as he advanced menacingly towards her. "Can't you answer me?"
He took another step, tilting his head to the side, watching her like a predator through narrowed eyes. "Is it because you can't refute me?" he asked, "Or was that call not from Fuwa?"
He heard her take a breath, could almost see her pulse quickening, but Kyoko wasn't going to break character or end the scene, he knew her too well. "It can't be anybody but Fuwa," he snarled, "because the only ones who called you without caller ID are me, the agency, and Fuwa."
=.=.=.=
Kyoko was letting him back her towards the bed slowly, feeling a heady rush as she felt the violence in his presence shift and intensify. This was him, that long-forgotten Dark Kuon, the man she hadn't seen since she'd exorcized him from her Kuon's body that night. Back then, she hadn't known what to make of him. Her faith in her Tsuruga-senpai had been unshakeable, though she only had the President's words to guide her. But he was certainly not the Ren she knew, nor the character Cain Heel. It was that faith in Tsuruga's absolute infallibility that had carried the evening, but there was a part of her that wished—just a little bit—that he'd given in to his dark side. But she knew things now, had been there as he'd healed from the wounds that had created Dark Kuon. That knowledge, coupled with the intervening years of courtship and marriage, made an advance that had been so threatening then something deeply erotic now. Catch me, she wanted to say, catch me, punish me, pin me down, Kuon, for having Sho call me on your birthday night.
"But now," he was saying, "both the agency and I use Caller ID. That means the only one left is Fuwa."
The full force of his hostility met her gaze. Black hair hung over his eyes as he towered over her. "Why did he call you at this hour?"
Her boot found the edge of the bed and she let herself trip and fall onto it, only to be overcome by him as he crawled over her. She was trapped underneath him, her hair splayed out onto the sheets as his hands pinned her down at her shoulder and her arm. She breathed in his scent, feeling the electric charge that flowed from his body into hers. For a moment she felt them fall out of the scene, and she was gazing into her husband's eyes—eyes that were loving instead of cold. Eyes that looked like they belonged to a man who wanted to kiss her, rather than a man crazed with jealousy and lust and possessiveness. She almost lost herself as she fought back an impulse to rise up and capture his lips with a kiss, but she wasn't going to lose. She schooled her face back into 17-year-old Kyoko's concern and bewilderment, and watched as he did the same.
Menace rose off of him like a miasma. Her heart raced in response.
"Are you still in contact with Fuwa?" he asked. "That's why you were able to come yesterday…You were supposed to be at school but you showed up at the TV station with him."
His face was coming closer and closer to hers. "You two seemed awfully friendly sitting side by side…"
She was reminded again of how huge his hands were as they squeezed her tighter. Hands so big they could span her waist, wrap around her throat, throw her down and force her open. "You say you hate him. You claim you hate him." His face was just a breath away from hers now. "But what do you actually want to do with Fuwa?"
So much power in him. So much strength. Was she just a naive idiot, back then? She should've been more frightened of him, more aware of his capacity for violence. Maybe even then, her body already knew what all of her knew now: she was his. He was moving his left hand from her arm to her torso, where the prodigious length and breadth of his hand settled. His fingers hooked into her bodice as he pinned her down further with his leg. "You won't answer that, either?" he asked. The fingers twitched, she could imagine him pulling down that neckline to expose her breasts to his gaze and she felt herself throb in anticipation.
His teeth were clenched and she felt the waves of his anger wash over her. "If you're not going to deny it," he said, "that means you're saying yes."
The fingers tightened around her and she could feel the tension on her bodice, imagined what it would feel like to have him strip it off of her forcefully, exposing herself to his hungry gaze. "Though I refuse to listen to such nonsense at this point," he said. The tips of his fingers were on the bare skin between her breasts. Had he done this the first time? They were igniting fires on her skin and she considered, briefly, not flipping him over.
If she had to guess, though, he wanted her to.
Now or never.
She took hold of his shirt, pivoting against the bed to flip him to the side and then over. She did it as quickly as she could—now, as it was then, momentum was everything. He was denser than he was in the past. He should have been more difficult to flip, and yet he wasn't. She took satisfaction in viewing the puzzlement on his face. Her knee was at his crotch and she took her time grazing over the outline of his hard cock with her boot-encased leg.
And then she was straddling him. Nearly a decade later, she still couldn't believe she'd done it. Had she absolutely no sense of preservation? She could feel his skin on her legs here, and soon, she'd feel the rest of him too. Her tiny skirt had ridden up on her thighs, she could feel the wetness dripping from her and drenching her panties as she relaxed to sit on him. This time, she took the liberty of grinding her wet pussy onto the hard knob of the cock still in his pants, licking her lip as he stared up at her in surprise.
"What is it, nii-san? Are you jealous?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're a fool for getting upset over one phone call," she said. She took her hand, caressing his face with it, running her finger slowly from his jaw to his lips as she stared into his shocked eyes. For a moment she looked into them, losing herself in their depths. "No way am I interested in someone other than you, Nii-san." She crouched down closer to him, feeling the chain from her lip ring run down his chest. "And you know that already."
She grasped him by his hair and kissed him on the forehead, intimately aware, now, that he'd probably been staring at her tits that night too. It had been a tender kiss back then, a mark of her love for her Tsuruga-senpai, a plea for him to control his anger and his darkness as one hand drew back the hair from his forehead while cradling his head with the other. Tonight her kiss was no less tender—all of her love for him, grown and tended carefully over the years they'd been together was in that kiss. But now the kiss wasn't meant to placate—it was meant to inflame. She saw him blink slowly and watched as his mouth curved upwards subtly and then said, "I put a kiss mark on your forehead. It'll go away soon, since it's just lipstick. Do you want a mark that'll last longer?"
He was holding himself stock-still. "Yeah," he responded. "The mark will fill me, body and soul while it lasts…cuz it'll be proof that I'm yours."
He was warm and solid underneath her straddling legs, and she laid her torso atop his. "All right, then," she said, her fingers trailing down from his forehead and alongside his jugular. "I'll leave my marks…where everyone can see them…and also, where only you can see them." She grasped the zipper of his shirt, slowly pulling it down to reveal the chiseled chest beneath it. Slowly she slid down his body as the shirt parted, taking care to rub herself along his length. When his torso was revealed, she sat for a moment and just stared at it, at the hard, defined muscles, the plane of his abdomen which rose and fell with the breaths he was taking, at the indents of the belt of Adonis that slipped below the waistline of his pants. He was magnificent. He'd built more muscle since their first time in this room. He'd been perfectly cut back then, too, but the intervening decade of action films had resulted in a physique that was more…substantial. He was her object of worship, and by now she was sure he could feel how she was dripping through her panties.
He looked at her with the barest hint of a smirk, just as he had back then. "Make sure they last forever," he said.
"Sure," Setsu responded, running her hands up and down his chest. Poor Kuon, she thought, as she opened her mouth. Her seventeen-year-old self had no idea what she was doing, and now, she chomped down with gusto on his neck. She felt Cain jolt in surprise as she continued.
"Setsu," he said, closing his eyes in frustration. "This…isn't a hickey. These are teeth marks."
She looked at him with a hooded gaze, a young girl trying to hide her inexperience. "Oh?" she asked, "You wanted something that would last forever…so I thought I should sink my teeth into your neck." She was sprawled on his hard body, her chest flush with his.
"What I mean by a love bite that lasts forever isn't simply that it remains visible," he said. "I want something that'll leave a mark on my heart." He paused, looking up at her. "Don't bite," he said. "Suck. The same spot over and over. As if you're establishing your possession. The mark will become more pronounced when the broken blood vessels turn into a bruise. That's how you make a hickey." She remembered those words exactly as he'd said them, feeling the same wave of jealousy she'd felt back then. She knew now that none of Kuon's teenage escapades had ever amounted to anything, but the thought of him touching another woman—establishing possession over another woman—enraged her. She was Kuon's wife, his soulmate, the only woman he had ever loved. And yet…and yet, her stomach fell several stories as she imagined it. She was jealous of any other woman who had ever experienced the joy he was capable of giving—of any other woman who'd ever orgasmed on his cock. How dare he mark anyone else! She'd never asked how many women he'd bedded before her, but his…expertise…in bed told her it was not a minimal amount.
"I know," Setsu said. She looked down at him and then closed her eyes. "I don't need to establish possession," she told him, "cuz you're already mine."
"Of course I am," he responded. "But it would be better…it would be a good opportunity to declare the fact to everyone else."
She moved her face closer to his neck, close enough so that her lips were grazing his skin. "Then…instead of hiding it…if I put it here…" Her lips descended on his neck, gentle now, kissing him once, and then again. "Don't you forget, nii-san," she said, "that I'm the only one who can understand you…no matter what happens." She licked his neck with the tip of her tongue. "That at every moment my heart is always with you." She began kissing him in earnest now, pulling his skin into her mouth, laving her tongue across his skin and feeling his heart start racing as she nuzzled closer into his neck. She heard him gasp involuntarily as she concentrated on giving him the hickey. She didn't hesitate, as she had back then, her small hands resting on his chest and then reaching to grasp his hair. She had given in to herself. She remembered what it had been like to give him that hickey the first time—she was confident as an actress that she could replicate those very same actions. But she didn't want to. The kisses she gave him now were the kisses of a woman of experience—the kisses of a woman who knew exactly what her husband liked. There was no hesitation, just an insistent claiming of him as hers, sealing her mouth onto him and feeling the rest of her body curl towards him as if it knew he owned her. She nipped at him playfully with her teeth, and then sucked the flesh in, feeling his entire body react to her mouth.
When she came up for air he was wearing the same tender expression she remembered. "I'll never disappoint you again," he said, "by being out of character like I was tonight. I'll continue being the big brother who belongs to his sister until the very end of my life…as long as you keep focusing your attention on me."
She couldn't help the smile on her face and the flush on her cheek. Back then, she thought he'd been making the vow to Setsu—but hearing him say those words again reminded her of the many times he'd vowed to be hers throughout the years. She'd been so dense at seventeen she couldn't see that he hadn't been acting. They were still for the moment, looking into each other's eyes as themselves. Kyoko was a breath away from kissing him, but—
He flipped her over, trapping her beneath him once again. Her body reacted to the proximity of his…she felt herself clench at the sight of him leaning over her, felt her nipples harden as goosebumps rose from her skin. The Emperor was looking down at her, leaving absolutely no doubt in her mind about where this was going. "Nii-san?" she asked. He was cradling her, an arm beneath her shoulders.
His voice was hoarse and heavy with desire when he answered. "I've got no intention of swearing a promise or a vow to god," he said, "but I want to swear to you." The point of his finger was over her heart, his face so close that his black hair brushed against her cheek. "So may I carve it on you? The proof of my vow, here." His head began descending to her breast as his right hand moved to her arm. She was staring dazedly at him when he said, "And I can also teach you by example…the correct way to give a hickey…"
She knew she'd stopped him here back then, whacking his hand away and then pushing his head off of her. He'd moved slowly that first time, holding her close and steady. She'd had time. She was moving to resist him, her hand halfway to his face, when he moved with the precision of a striking cobra, capturing the offending arm and pinning it quickly back above her head.
A quiet whimper escaped her as she tried to break his grip, using her other hand to try and push him off. It didn't work, and only resulted in him holding both of her wrists above her head. She kept trying to escape, but the grip was like iron—and his legs were keeping her pinned from below.
"Uh uh uh, little sister," he said, grinning. "Shhh. Nii-san will teach you."
Before she could react, his mouth was on her fevered skin. There was no time, no opportunity for her to intercept him as he descended on her. The bustier shifted and gave way to his nuzzling, and she trembled as she felt his breath on her skin. She gasped as he licked along the outline of the lace on her corset—lightly, with just the tip of his tongue, mirroring her actions from earlier—and then quickly sucked the flesh above her heart in his mouth. "Nii-san!" she cried out, squirming. She bucked with her entire body, fighting against his grip, trying to dislodge his head, but he didn't pause as that mouth continued what she knew would be an inexorable siege. "I'm yours, Setsu," he growled. "I want the whole world to know it. But you, are you mine?"
He didn't stop to wait for her answer. She ceased her effort to squirm away for now, and felt his intake of breath as he secured both of her tiny wrists in one of his hands, freeing the other to roam her body freely. His legs pinned the rest of her body down, the firm expanse of his abdomen grinding between her legs and forcing her legs apart. She didn't need to look down to know her skirt had ridden up, exposing the indecent piece of silk that passed for her panties, drenched and all but useless against what she knew would be his assault.
"Are you mine, Setsu?" he growled again. He was looking at her, taking in her flushed face, her quickened breath.
She was half-dazed, losing herself to the sensation of his skin on hers. She whimpered as the wandering hand came up and unclasped the halter of her bustier, and he drew it down, his thumb brushing against her nipple as he pushed the top downwards to reveal her breasts. She felt him take her nipple and brush his thumb against it as he looked into her eyes.
"Hmm?" he responded. "Are you paying attention? I'm not sure you're paying attention. I'll repeat it until you learn. This is how you leave a mark, Setsu," he said, and his head descended back onto her flesh. "Lick." He demonstrated, cupping her breast as the flat of his tongue licked up from her nipple to the patch over her heart. "Suck," he said, and she arched upwards as he did just that. "And again." A hand pinched at her nipple causing her to cry out.
She felt the hand descend further, down past her waist, venturing agonizingly slowly to where she ached most for him. She felt a single finger trace the outline of her slit behind the soaked silk of her panties and she gasped as the feather light touches grew more and more insistent. "Nii-san," she whimpered.
She felt the gusset of her panties pushed aside as two of his fingers entered her and then quickly withdrew. "What's this, Setsu?" he asked. He held up his fingers for her to inspect, parting them, and she blushed as she saw how her viscous moisture dripped off of them. He held her gaze as he put the fingers in his mouth, licking off her juices. "I've been neglecting my baby sister, haven't I?" he asked. "Whatever shall I do?" He nuzzled back into her, speaking against her neck. "My darling little sister's cunt is drooling for me. Has this been happening all this time, babygirl? Has your little pussy been craving your nii-san? You won't fight me now, will you?"
She was breathless with want underneath him, his words forcing the blood to pump in her ears. She couldn't close her legs. He was planted too firmly between them, the largeness of his body making her aware of how much smaller she was. The fingers entered her again, thrusting in and out this time, and she whimpered as he let go of her hands.
She moved them, finally free, and began to clutch at the sheets as Cain kept up his assault on her pussy. The fingers were relentless, and now both of his hands were available. She found him spreading her legs wide and then leaning down on her so she couldn't close her legs. He was moving down her body now, kissing every inch of exposed skin. "My little sister is so beautiful," Cain said. She could feel his breath on her nether lips. Those impossibly long fingers were parting her labia, exposing her pink pussy to the open air.
She cried out desperately as his tongue tasted her, the moist tip of it teasing her vulva as she squirmed. "I'm going to teach you how to please me," he said, "I'll teach you everything I know. By example."
She wasn't going to let this end so easily. She fought to master herself, and then moved to grab his head by the hair and yank him off of her. "By example? Do you intend to teach me the tricks you learned by practicing on other people?" She scissored off the bed, grabbing her bustier and straightening her skirt as she stepped out from under him. "Sleazebag."
She heard him get up, no doubt confused by the switch back to that evening's lines, but she was walking away, grabbing her coat off the hook. "Where are you going!?" he asked in a panic. He was dazed, shirtless on the bed but still with his pants on.
"I seem to be no match for you right now," she responded. "So I'm going out to do some training." She strode off, doing Setsu's catwalk walk. "There're plenty of men who'll let me practice on them," she said.
She had her hand on the doorknob and the door opened an inch when she felt him behind her, as quick as ever. Before she knew it the door had been slammed shut and he had his arm possessively around her body, grabbing her and drawing her back so that her back was flush against his torso. He had her trapped against the door. "Other men?" he growled. "So my little sister wants to play with other men like a common slut?"
He forced her to turn and look at him, and she found herself pressing her back against the door. There was no way for her to escape. "Answer me, Setsu," he said. His palm slammed flat on the wood of the door, inches from her face. He was leaning over her.
She could feel his ragged breath on her skin as he rasped in her ear. "Does my sister really want to play with other men?"
"I want to have some fun too," she pouted. "It isn't fair that you've been balls deep in god knows how many women, Cain."
"And I've given them all up, otherwise I'd be balls deep in Manaka-chan."
Setsu hissed. "Oh, you don't like that, do you, little sister? You don't like the idea of me fucking other pussy?"
His hand was on her belly, making her heart flutter. "Cain—"
"But you think it's OK to whore around on your devoted nii-san? Fuck no, Setsu."
He was pressing closer and closer to her. "You are mine. And if my little sister wants to act like a slut, I'm going to treat her like one," he said.
One of his hands came around to her neck, the other moved to her shoulder and she felt him push her down onto her knees. She sank down onto the carpeted floor, her body obeying his commands instinctively. "You want to know how men treat little girls like you, Setsu?" he asked. He'd moved a hand to the base of her neck, grabbing at her hair underneath the wig and she gasped as he forced her to look up at him. Her eyes looked up into his, which were cold and hard and angry. The grip on her head grew firmer as he unzipped his fly.
"You're gonna have to learn how to suck cock, little girl," he said. "Open up."
She looked up at him through her false eyelashes, through the fringe of pink-tinged blonde that made up the wig. He was hard—as hard as she'd ever seen him. His cock was large, straight, and thick—too large for her to take entirely into her mouth. The first time he'd fucked her she'd been sore for days, but he'd been so gentle in the beginning, making sure she was well-lubricated and ready before he began their sessions together. Now, she craved a little bit of pain. She loved it when he forced her down on her knees, fucking his cock into her mouth as she choked and drooled around it. She had always loved pleasing him. She loved how soft the skin was in contrast to how hard he was. She loved how it rose up off of his body at the apex of his two well-muscled legs and his obscenely beautiful abs. She loved swallowing his cum.
She grabbed his hard length with both her hands as she tentatively licked the tip of it with her mouth. She tasted the salt on his skin, the drop of pre-cum that had seeped out. She licked around his head and brought her hand up to cup his balls as her other hand groped his muscled thigh. She hummed, savoring him as she brought more of him into her mouth.
He stopped her, taking her jaw into her hand. She whimpered.
"Nah uh, I don't want a slow blowjob from my little sister," he said. "I want to fuck a slut's mouth." He grabbed at the back of her head and forced his cock as deep as he could into her mouth. She choked instinctively, but she wouldn't lose to him. She locked her lips around his member, careful not to graze him with her teeth, pressing her tongue to the hard ridge on the underside of his cock. He kept his hand on her head, using it to keep her still as he thrust into her mouth. "This is how sluts get used, Setsu," he said. She held her head still and her mouth open, letting him use her, feeling her body react to his power and his control. The rhythm intensified, him driving more of his cock inside her mouth until she choked, over and over until her mascara bled over her cheeks. "You still want to go out and practice with other men?" he asked. He took his cock out of her mouth. She nodded her head no.
"Good girl," he said. She saw him smile the Emperor's smile and felt a fresh flush of desire throughout her body.
"Fuck you, nii-san," she responded.
"Mmmm my little sister," he said from above her. God, she was hot when she was on her knees like that. "That's what I was planning on doing all along. That's what you're for."
He pulled her up suddenly, and then she realized he was going to trap her against the bed again. This time, though, the hands didn't let go of her. He picked her up in his arms and threw her on the bed, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss. His tongue thrust into her mouth roughly, and she felt herself melt underneath him. He kept kissing her as she felt his hands unzip the corset and fling it off the bed, revealing her breasts and her hardened nipples to the open air. She was left in her mini-skirt and her panties, which he promptly disposed of with a single finger as he hiked up her skirt at the same time. He rolled the panties down past her bootheels, leaving her pussy exposed to his gaze. "Look at these slutty little panties," he murmured, bringing them to his face. He inhaled her scent as she blushed and looked away.
She felt his gaze bore into her as she dripped and squirmed under him. He wedged her open underneath him, kicking her legs open and then pinning her down. "This is where you belong, Setsu," he said. "Always ready for me. Always open for me." She felt just the tips of his fingers touching her labia lightly and she moved towards him, willing him to touch her there.
But he didn't. The hand continued stroking just outside of her hungry pussy. "Mmmm, niii-san," she said breathlessly.
"Still think you want to play with other men?" he asked.
"I just wanted to practice, Nii-san," she whined, "I wanted to learn how to make nii-san feel good—" She gasped as his fingers abruptly entered her.
"So wet," he murmured. "You're so wet for me, Setsu." He took a nipple into his mouth, playing with the other as Setsu arched and moaned against him. "Now where were we? Hmm? Before you interrupted me with your bratty little fit…" He took the fingers that had been in her pussy and thrust them into her mouth. "See how slutty your little pussy is?" he asked. She stared at him as she licked herself off of his fingers, pressing her lips close around them and sucking.
"Oh fuck," he said. He replaced his fingers with his mouth, kissing her again as he kicked off his pants.
He didn't let her come up for air, lining up his cock and thrusting into her abruptly. She gasped as his length filled her, parting her nether lips and giving her no quarter for retreat. He didn't stop, or pause, or let her catch her breath before beginning a relentless rhythm that had her gasping first and then crying out as she alternately clutched at him and tried to push him away. He hooked her legs around him and she curled them around his back, her boot heels tangling.
"Fucking finally," he said, and then he pumped into her like a man possessed as she screamed Kuon's name into the air. He didn't correct her. She felt her awareness shrink to just the feeling of their coupling. Everything faded into black—there was just him driving into her, fucking her and using her for his pleasure. She could only yield to him, and just the thought of that made her moan. She could hear the sound of his flesh slapping against hers, the sound of her wetness as he mercilessly continued. His mouth found its way to her neck as he covered her, and she felt him lick and suck her, marking her as thoroughly as she had him. His hands were everywhere—now, distending her nipples, next, clutching her ass to cradle her as he thrust in. "Kyoko…Kyoko…fuck I love you…I fucking love you," he was saying, and she didn't correct him, either. He groaned and muttered her name into her ear as he plunged into her again and again, savoring her heat and her wetness, pushing her inexorably to her final release.
And then it was there. She felt her blood rushing, felt lightheaded as if she'd been running on a mountaintop with thin air, and then she cried out just as she thought her heart would burst as he brought her over. Her pussy spasmed, and then he was cumming too, his cock pumping cum deep into her pussy.
They collapsed. He was on top of her, still inside her, and they were laying crookedly on the bed. He looked down on her, watching as she slowly caught her breath. He could still feel her heart racing, see the fine sheen of sweat that covered her skin. The wig was somewhat askew; the rest of her body bore the reddened marks of his kisses—marks that would darken into bruises over the next few days. He began unpinning the wig, starting with the tiny pins near the nape of her neck, and then slowly lifting it off and loosening the hair that had been pinned tightly underneath it. Kyoko groaned as she felt Kuon throw the wig off into the corner, and then grunted as his member slid out of her pussy. She could feel the warmth of his cum leaking out of her. He left her to grab and moisten a washcloth, kneeling down and slowly removing her boots and her skirt as he kissed her knees.
"I love you," he said.
"Happy birthday, Kuon," she replied, "I love you too."
When he finished stripping her they lay in bed, his hands slowly stroking her body as if to re-acquaint himself with all of her curves. "I missed you so much," he said.
"It was just a week…at least you could cum," she told him. "All I could do was think about you."
"Consider it part of your birthday present to me." He paused. "You don't mind, do you?"
"Mind what?"
"Being my birthday weekend sex slave?"
Kyoko laughed and snuggled closer to him. "Just for the weekend?" she pouted.
"Kyoko?"
"Hmm?"
"The panties…they weren't the ones I put into the box."
She smiled. "No, they weren't."
"Why—"
"You didn't seriously think that Setsu would be caught dead in cotton briefs, did you?"
She felt him suppress a small jolt of surprise and the hands stilled and as he unconsciously gripped her. "You mean—were they—"
"Yeah. I was wearing tiny little silk panties the entire time. I was surprised you didn't know. You had plenty of opportunities to peek," she said.
"You were seventeen—I would never—!"
"I was seventeen but if I hadn't stopped you…"
"I…I like to think I wouldn't have."
"But you wanted to."
"I tried not to think about it. And there were…other issues back then."
She was quiet for a moment before planting a tender kiss on his lips. "I know."
"But sometimes…"
"Sometimes?"
"Sometimes it was all I could think about. When we got to the room that first night…do you remember? When you dropped that welcome kit the hotel staff gave us and I ran out to take us shopping?"
"Yes?"
"Did you have any idea how much cleavage you were showing me?"
Her blush was answer enough. He moved a lock of her hair from her eyes and cupped her face. "Why do you think I took such long showers?"
He laughed as her mouth gaped. "I thought you were just—silly, or something…"
"I was beating the fuck out of my meat and hoping you wouldn't come barging in…"
"I'm—sorry! I just thought it was something Setsu would do!"
"Ha. Admit you just wanted to ogle my body under the shower."
"I…"
"You can't deny it." He laughed harder, watching her blush deepen. "What did you like seeing best?"
"I did not go in there just to ogle you! I was sincerely worried!"
"Maybe that first time. You kept doing it, though."
She turned her face away from him and hid into her hands. So cute, he thought. He knew by now her appetites matched his own—that her fantasies were just as smutty as his. If anything, hers were just a tad kinkier. But she never got over this native shyness of hers. It was just like Kyoko to maintain her innocence even after a thorough debauching. He had to strain to hear her say "I liked watching the water drip down…your waist…the 'v'..."
He took her hands, gently prying them away from her face. She looked up at him, so red he was surprised a cloud of steam wasn't escaping out her ears. She continued, "I—I thought about…lickingthewateroffyou…The morning right after we did this…I um…" she trailed off.
"You…?" He felt his cock twitch, thinking about seventeen-year-old Kyoko licking the water off of his twenty-one-year-old self.
"I…touchedmyselfforthefirsttime."
"Fuck that's hot." The thought of it made him fully hard again. "When?"
"After breakfast. You went to the shoot and I went back to the room."
"Yeah?"
"Mmmhmm," she said.
"Show me," he growled.
"Right now?" the surprise in her voice was evident.
"Right the fuck now."
He tore the sheet off of her as she stared at him. "Show me, Kyoko."
She gulped as she leaned back on the bed's headboard. Under his intense gaze she parted her legs slowly, bringing her hand to her core. Her other grasped at her breast and she began to finger and rub herself.
He couldn't keep his hands off of her, and soon he was entering her again. Their second joining was tender, sweet, slow. When he came, this time, it was with her.
They were about to drift off into sleep in each others' arms when they were interrupted by a ringing phone.
They woke with a start. Funny, Kuon thought, I could've sworn I turned off that burner phone.
But it wasn't the burner phone. It was Kyoko's normal phone, which she'd tucked into the other coat pocket.
Kuon unlocked it and answered. "Fuwa, what the fuck, man."
"Goddammit, so it WAS a kinky sex thing, wasn't it? I KNEW it. Seriously, you two…"
"Is that Sho?" whispered Kyoko, blushing. "I called in that favor he owed me…"
Sho kept talking, "And here I was all worried that Kyoko was in some trouble or some shit. You two have been married for what…like a decade? Seriously…always with the kinky sex things…"
"Fuwa, was there a point to this call?"
"Yeah. Happy birthday, man. Hope you two get some sleep."
"You know…you could've been interrupting something…"
"I figured you'd both just ignore the call if you were…busy. Anyway. Drinks soon?"
"Sure."
He hung up the phone and snuggled back into Kyoko. Happy birthday indeed, he thought, and then fell asleep.