Chapter Twenty-Three

Seto had never enjoyed a dinner so much in his life as a Kaiba. Sitting there at that table, with the sun setting on the horizon, warming the pale color of her skin, he could almost believe that the rest of the world did not exist. They talked of everything and nothing. Of Hoffmann breaking ground on the exhibit project and the successful prototype of Seto's VR headset. Of Kisa's excitement for the coming charity concert and her ideas for set and composition, of what songs to use and what to wear. Seto could've sat there listening to her for hours. The wine made his insides feel warm and bubbly. The steady music cast a spell over every word that came out of her mouth, enchanting him even deeper into the hole of his emotions.

For once, he didn't want to climb out.

The sun dipped below the horizon and the restaurant manager came around to each table to light the candles. He asked about their meal, about their experience, about the music and the staff. Seto wanted him to go away, but that would have been impolite. He answered every question only in quick, terse responses. Kisa, however, perhaps aware of his desire for them to be alone again, drew out the conversation.

Then he felt the slide of her bare toes up his pants leg and Seto's desire ignited like gasoline to a flame. Her eyes seemed to smolder through her lashes when she broke eye contact with the manager to look over at him. They seemed to hold some promise. No, an assurance of things that she couldn't say out loud, not in polite company, anyway. The image of that sensual gown sliding across her skin stayed Seto's tongue.

She was playing with him, seeing how far she could turn up the sizzle till Seto took his hand from the flames. It was childhood chess again, with Kisa trying to goad him into a mistake.

Well, two could play at that game.

Once alone again, with their hands connected across the table, Seto let his fingers glide across the soft skin of her wrist. Brushing feather-light across her pulse and down to her palm. He took her fingers in his and lifted her hand, leaning them both forward so he could lay a kiss across her knuckles. Her cheeks were flushed a tempting pink. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

"I can't help but notice there's a dance floor," she said.

"I don't see anyone else dancing," said Seto.

"So? Maybe we'll start a trend."

They weaved hand in hand through the tables to the little space cleared before the stage, where the soft carpet had been removed in lieu of polished laminate. Their fingers threaded together close to their chests. Seto's hand was light on the small of her back and her hand cupped the back of his neck. They swayed together to the gentle lilting rhythm.

Nothing else existed. There was only her eyes and her smile, looking up at him with so much love and adoration that it made his chest hurt. He wanted to fall into them, to be lost forever in their depths.

Kisa heaved a long sigh and laid her head on his shoulder. "You did good, Mr. Kaiba."

Seto chuckled and laid his cheek against her hair. He thought he saw the saxophone player wink at him, but then that could have been just a mirage. A hallucination brought on by wine and the sheer dream that was that moment.

"Come home with me?" Kisa asked.

Seto let his fingers glide gently up her spine, if only to have the pleasure of feeling her shiver against him. "I've been trying very hard not to imagine taking this off you."

"Why imagine?" Kisa lifted her head, fixed him with a salacious smile. "Say the word and you can have me whenever you want."

"Miss Miyoshi, are you trying to seduce me?"

"I figured it was better than just coming out and asking you to take me home and fuck me silly."

Seto's laughter escaped unbidden and he had to cover it by clearing his throat. "You can be direct."

"You love me for it." Kisa detached their fingers so she could drape both arms over his shoulders. "So, what d'you say? Take me home?"

Seto wrapped both arms around her waist, pulled her tight against him, and bowed his head so their lips were a mere breath apart.

"Gladly." He sank into her for all the world to see.

Never before did Seto want to leave a place so quickly. It took a maddeningly long time. They had to wait for their waiter to return with Seto's credit card, after they were forced to answer 'no' both times they were asked if they were interested in dessert. They had a brilliant tableside banana's foster, apparently, but Seto could not have cared less.

What he had wanted to say was: 'No. My dessert is sitting across from me. Now bring me my damn receipt.'

Even after their dinner was paid for they were still held up. Both the manager and the owner came out to see them off and thank them for their patronage while the maitre d was retrieving their coats. His frustration must have shown on his face as, by the time they made it to their car, Kisa was apoplectic with giggles.

It took more restraint than usual for Seto to not speed and commit multiple moving violations in his desire to get Kisa home and out of her dress. Not that she was much help in alleviating his mood, with her hand resting on his thigh, fingers rubbing a teasing trail up and down his inseam.

It felt strange to be so open about the whole thing. Almost unnatural. When he helped her out of the car there was no glancing over his shoulder before kissing her there in the parking lot. He kissed her again on her stoop as she rifled through her purse for her keys, but there was no desperation in it for once. They both knew what was going to happen that night and, at least in Seto's case, he was planning to take his sweet time and enjoy her for once. Worship her, as she deserved to be worshiped.

There was a lamp on beside the couch when they entered, allowing for enough visibility to move around. It occurred to Seto that he had not been in her townhouse since the day he and Mokuba helped her move in. He'd expected the interior to have been turned into a shrine to her musical talent, bedecked in music paraphernalia and instruments. What he found instead was a comfortable, homey living space not unlike Aunt Moriko's house, just with less plant life. The couch was a dark suede, soft and plush. A dark wood entertainment center filled the opposite wall, framed around a decently sized flat-screen television. The shelves were filled with trinkets, souvenirs from various places she'd visited from her time in Europe, and boxed collections of movies and TV shows. The albums were there too, lined on the top shelf around a framed photograph.

Seto went over to it as she folded her shawl over the arm of the couch. It was a group photo, the last taken of all of them before tragedy slowly tore them apart. Mokuba was sitting on their father's lap with Seto standing at his shoulder. Kisa's parents sat next to them, Kisa between them and her little sisters on their laps. It looked like a vacation photo, taken beachside with parasols and bathing suit clad strangers in the background.

"That was taken the summer before dad died, down at the cove." Kisa came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle, and set her chin on his shoulder. "I can make you a copy if there isn't one in your family albums."

"I would like that."

Kisa nuzzled her nose against his shoulder, her fingers blindly unbuttoning his blazer. "Don't have any pressing business to get back to, do you?"

He let her slide it off. "I believe I've made my calendar effectively clear."

"Just in case…" She dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Seto turned around in time to see her toss it onto the couch next to his jacket. He raised a brow. "You don't trust me?"

"Oh, I trust you." Kisa trailed her fingers across the buttons of his waistcoat, unbuttoning along the way. "I just don't want you getting distracted. You're all mine tonight. No work. No interruptions. No rush."

"Funny." Seto shrugged out of the waistcoat and let it fall to the floor. "I was thinking the same thing."

Kisa took his hand and backed towards the stairs. Seto followed.

Her bedroom was more what he expected. Dark curtains and linens with framed vinyls on the walls. The dresser Seto remembered so fondly still stood where they'd left it, though now it was covered with jewelry boxes and candles. There were quite a few candles around the room. Kisa plucked a lighter off the table and started lighting them.

Seto smirked. "You were planning this."

"I might've hoped you'd stay." She winked at him over her shoulder. "I'm all for wild, impromptu sex, but even I like to slow it down every once in a while." She nodded at the harsh white light shining from the ceiling. "Get the overhead, would you?"

Seto flicked it off and the room plunged into near darkness. It was filled with warm flickering light, casting wavering shadows over the walls. He watched Kisa move from candle to candle. The flare of the lighter cast her features bright each instant she flicked it on. Her fingers were trembling ever so slightly. She chewed and licked her lips. He waited until she was on the last candle before coming up behind her and sliding his hands up her arms. From her wrists to her shoulders. She sighed, set both the candle and lighter down.

"So stupid." She laughed a little. "I'm all trembly inside."

Seto gathered her hair and draped it over one shoulder so he could kiss and nibble the soft nape of her neck. "Scared?"

Kisa shook her head. "More like excited."

Seto unlatched the back of her dress and slid the lace and satin from her skin, hands smoothing down her arms until it fell away to puddle on the floor at her feet. She was standing in no more than flesh and black silk panties lined with lace. He wrapped his arms around her, teased her stomach, then her breasts. He was slow, methodical, listening for every hitched breath and sigh that told him he was doing something right. One hand trailed down her stomach and below the waistband of her panties so he could caress one finger across her clit.

She gasped, head falling back against his shoulder. One of her hands balled in the sleeve of his shirt. The other wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers massaging his scalp, sending those pleasurable tingles down his spine. He latched to her neck with teeth and tongue and gentle suction until she was no more than jelly in his hands. When Seto pulled away to look at his work he found a red hickey marring her skin. Something was satisfying about it, as if he had laid physical claim to her and no one else would ever be allowed to touch her.

Kisa turned in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck. She pulled him down to kiss her, fingers ghosting over his jaw, down his neck, down his chest, opening his shirt as she went.

He backed her towards the bed and eased her to sit. Before she could ask he was kneeling in front of her, smoothing his hands down her legs to her feet, then slipped off her heels.

"Oh… Mr. Kaiba." Kisa nudged his shoulder with her toes. "You're very attentive tonight. Careful, people'll start to think you've gone soft."

Seto captured her foot and pressed his lips to the inside of her ankle. His eyes never left hers. "You're the one who mentioned taking our time. I'm merely following through."

Her smile was soft, genuine, her eyes hooded with desire. "Don't ever show this side to anyone else."

Seto caressed the inside of her thigh. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He got up and kissed her, a hand on the small of her back as he laid her flat. When he went to pull away he found himself trapped. She had wrapped his tie around her fingers. She pulled him forward by it and clashed their mouths together again.

She gave his lips a little lick. "You know, I've never done it with someone in the whole suit and tie thing before."

Seto raised a brow. "That so?"

"Yeah." She unknotted his tie, slipped it from around his neck. "Makes for all kinds of fun possibilities." She wrapped both ends of the tie around her wrists. When they came together in the middle she lifted them above her head and arched into him with a long, needy moan. "I've been a bad girl, Mr. Kaiba."

Desire wound so tight, he thought he would snap.

He ravaged her mouth. He trailed his lips across her jaw, down her neck, to her breasts. He teased her with teeth and tongue, enjoying how her spine bowed with pleasure, how her thighs rubbed together underneath him, as if desperate for attention.

He worked his way down her body until he was kneeling on the floor again, pulling her panties down and off. He pushed her legs apart, opening her to him and his exploration.

He started with his fingers, gracing feather-light touches across her skin to find the places that made her arch and curl her toes. He hadn't had time or inclination in the past to find all the places that made her feel good. Now that he had the time, he was damned well going to. There was no half-assing it, not for her, not ever.

Pressure on her clit was good. It was enough to leave her gasping and squirming. Rubbing his finger just to the side was better. That brought about the most intense reaction he'd seen yet. Her toes curled against his shoulder. Her hips bucked. Her hands were buried in her hair.

"Right there. Ah!" She bit her lip so hard Seto thought she might draw blood. "Right… there…"

Seto licked his lips, then added his tongue to the equation.

He had to lay an arm across her hips to keep her still. Kisa seemed to be losing all sense of reality. He watched her, cheek pressed against the warmth of her inner thigh, fingers working steadily inside her, tongue lathing across that sensitive strip of flesh. Her body rocked and rolled to its own rhythm. She was growing louder, more desperate. All kinds of wonderful things spilled from her mouth. 'Oh's' and 'please'. His name, which was followed by a string of colorful expletives. Some were in German.

Kisa bolted into a sitting position, hands pushing into the back of his head, pressing him hard against her. Seto took her wrists and pulled away. A cry tore from her throat.

"Lay back," he said.

"Seto… please…"

He couldn't tell if she even remembered where she was. Her whole body was flushed and heaving. Her lips were red and swollen. Her eyes were glazed and wild, so close to release, but denied so suddenly.

Seto swallowed hard and tried to keep his voice commanding. "Lay down, Miss Miyoshi. Keep your hands above your head."

Kisa whimpered, but complied. Her hands buried themselves back in her hair. Seto smirked and went back to work.

It was not long after that Kisa was back to the incoherent cursing mess she'd been before. He grazed his fingers along a spongy pad of flesh inside her walls. She all but screamed. She seemed frozen in time, her back arched and body shaking. She pulsed around his fingers as her orgasm hit with the force of a wreaking ball.

Seto watched her with some awe and growing pride. He got to his feet, leaning against the bed to rest his aching knees. She was magnificent in all her splendor. When she finally opened her eyes, she fixed Seto with the most satisfied look he'd ever seen.

She sat up, grasped his collar, and pulled him into a kiss. She was still kissing him when her still bound hands dropped to his belt and began the work of freeing his straining erection from its confines. Belt, pants, and underwear pooled around his ankles. Seto stepped out of them, toed off his shoes, then his socks. Kisa ran her hands up his chest, across the hard plane of his stomach. He combed his fingers through her hair, pulled it off her neck, brushed it to the side. His thumbs rubbed firm against her neck, her jaw, her shoulders. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and pumped and his brain lost all train of thought.

Nothing existed beyond her hands, her tongue, her mouth. Wet and hot and oh so powerful. She took him down her throat and Seto leaned his head back. She hummed and his eyes went crossed. He clenched his jaw and looked down at her, at how she took him, how her tongue lathed across him from root to tip before she swallowed him again, and again, and again.

The tension in his groin was curling tighter. Almost painful.

"Kisa…" Seto hardly recognized his own voice. "Stop."

She looked up at him. His cock fell from her lips with an obscene pop and she rested her cheek against his stomach. "Hm?"

If he'd been a goner before; dig a hole and put him in it, because he was certain he was in heaven. "I'm not going to last much longer if you keep on like this."

Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight. "How do you want me?"

It didn't take him long to decide. While she retrieved a condom from her bedside table, Seto knelt in the center of her bed. Once it was on, he guided her into his lap, her knees on either side of his legs. It was the breathtaking bliss Seto imagined. They rocked together, bathed in warm candlelight, and time seemed to fall away. Nothing else existed beyond that room, beyond the sweat of their bodies, the way their arms wrapped around each other, the way their lips and tongues danced in a way only they knew. She lifted to her knees over and over and when she dropped back down Seto rose to meet her.

Seto's release came not in an animalistic cry, but a moan that tore from his throat. He trembled with the force of his release. Her skin was slick and hard to hold onto. Her hair was damp. The skin beneath his shirt was hot and sticky.

Even after he came Kisa was still rocking against him, still seeking that end with desperate jerks of her hips that sent agonizing tingles of pleasure through his most sensitive parts. Seto slipped a hand between them, pressed his thumb to that strip of skin next to her cilt, and let her rock against it. Her whole body arched backward and Seto had to hold onto her to keep her on his lap.

When she came down again she wrapped her arms around his neck, still bound by the tie that was no doubt ruined. She stared into his eyes. Seto thought his heart would explode.

"I love you," she said.

"I-" Seto shook his head, tried again. "I l-"

Fear. Hot, sharp as a knife, cut through his chest. He clung to her. His body shook. Panic. Terror.

"Shh…" Kisa nestled his head against her neck, caressed her hands across his shoulders, through his hair. "Shh… It's okay. It's okay. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

God, did he want to believe her.

He tried to focus on his breathing, on the feel and smell of her skin, on anything else. He did love her, with every fiber of his being. She was the breath that filled his lungs. She was the light that lit up his world. She was the stars and moon and everything he'd ever wanted, but never been able to reach.

But if he loved her, he would lose her. That was just the way it was.

Seto could hear the water running in the bathroom, where Kisa had gone to remove her makeup. The overhead light was on again and wisps of smoke trailed from the wicks of every candle. It'd only been minutes ago, but already it felt like a dream. He sat on the edge of her bed, redressed in his unclasped slacks, and leaned forward on his knees. He looked down at his hands, flexed his fingers. The fear had retreated again, nestling back behind his heart where it waited to strike. He could feel it there, like cancer in remission, waiting for him to put his guard down, waiting for him to try.

The tap squeaked and the water stopped. Kisa's bare feet padded across the floor as she returned, but he didn't look up. He heard her sigh and a moment later the bed sagged as she sat next to him. She'd put on a fresh pair of underwear and a t-shirt.

She laid her head on his shoulder. "You wanna talk about it?"

Seto kissed her hair. "Why ruin a perfectly good evening."

"You're not ruining anything. I want to help if you'll let me." She linked their hands together and squeezed.

He breathed deep. "I think… I know why I am so afraid to say it."

Kisa sat up, alert, but said nothing.

"It was the last thing I said to our father before he died," he said. "I watched him drive away not knowing it would be the last time. I'm certain it was the last thing I said to our mother before…" Seto's throat tightened. He forced it to clear. "Thinking back, I don't think I've said it to Mokuba either, not since that day. I suppose I thought it was my fault somehow."

Kisa rubbed his shoulder. "But it's not. You were just a kid, and scared."

"Correlation does not equal causation."

"Yeah, that."

"I've been trying to tell myself that, but I can't convince myself it's true."

Kisa chewed her lip. "You think- and I'm not trying to say you need it." She added hurriedly, "You think you should talk to someone about it? You know, like a professional."

"I have a psychiatrist."

"Really?" Kisa's voice peaked with surprise. "I mean… I thought…"

"It's alright. I hadn't seen her for three years, not until this past August when-" Seto looked away. "You remember what happened."

Kisa made an affirmative noise and leaned against him again. "You want to stay the night?"

"I don't exactly have anything to change into."

"I could throw your shirt in the wash, dry it in the morning. Not exactly dry cleaning, but it's better than wearing a stinky sweaty shirt home."

Seto rubbed his palms into his eyes. There was that fear again, trembling and at the ready.

The idea of waking up next to Kisa on a lazy Sunday morning was tempting. He wanted the pleasure of watching her rouse from her sleep. He wanted the opportunity to be there, to tease her into attentiveness, and lure her into lovemaking while they were still warm and relaxed from sleep.

"I want to," he said.

"I'm not going to make you. I don't wanna force you into anything you're not ready for."

Seto looked at her, warmth and love seeping into every vein, filling him so full he thought he would overflow. He kissed her forehead, breathed in her scent until it filled his lungs. He set his jaw, turned that warmth into steel, and got to his feet.

"Seto?"

He didn't answer. He stared at himself in her dresser mirror, blue eyes hard and determined. He raised shaking hands to his collar, feeling that sharp fear nudge in his chest, and let his shirt fall from his shoulders. It hit the floor with a soft rustle.

She gasped and Seto screwed his eyes shut. He leaned forward on the dresser, trying to breathe, slow and deep. He didn't want to see her face, didn't want to see the fear or disgust or whatever else that would freeze his blood. He knew what she would see.

Jagged circular burns, pink and mottled. Slashes of scarred flesh. He put a hand to his mouth.

The bed creaked as Kisa got up. Seto waited for the inevitable. The touch to his skin that would send him careening back to the past, well-intentioned, but painful.

The touch never came.

Kisa took his arm, turned him to face her. "Seto, look at me." There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. She framed his face in her hands, pulled him down to kiss his lips. "You're beautiful. My own beautiful broken vase."

Seto couldn't remember feeling so much. Relief, love, surprise, adoration. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. For the first time in a very long time, he felt whole.