Disclaimer:I do not own the anime, manga, novels, and most importantly the characters of K. K is officially owned by GoRa/GoHands.

Author's note:WARNING! THERE IS ANOTHER M-RATED SCENE. The lemon below is a serious one (unlike the requested lemon I did last time) and I actually tried because this time it's very important for the plot.

READY FOR SOME LEMONY GOODNESS?

K: Preserving the Blaze of Your Red

BY: TCOOKIES777

Chapter 17: Play Pretend

"Stop waiting for Prince Charming. Get up and find him. The poor idiot may be stuck in a tree or something."

"Does it hurt?" The man asks as he finishes wrapping the bandages of the woman sitting before him. His hand lingers on the back of his friend. She's wearing no top to cover herself with. Only the cloth she hugs to her front for the barest modesty, as well as the ace wrappings he himself had painstakingly wrapped her torso with, can only make up so much for privacy. Once upon a time, he would have blushed at the sight of such nudity for she was the only female he had ever interacted with. And then he would have berated himself for behaving like such a pervert around someone who was practically his family. And then he would have snapped at Chitose or Eric to stop smirking at him…

Once upon a time.

Now, he feels none of those stupid teenage hormones that had often made him faint at the sight of any girl exposing even just a slip of skin. He doesn't feel any fluttering in his stomach at the close proximity of an exotically beautiful woman just within breathing distance. He doesn't feel hot in the face at the sight of her pale smooth skin so translucent that he could map out her veins with a finger. Instead, he just feels worry as he burns his stare onto the dark bruises mottling that pale skin all over the expanse of her back. Or the small silver scars that should never have been there in the first place. He has to bite his lip to prevent himself from touching the fresh red spots painting the stark white wrappings.

"It looks painful." He murmurs again. The atmosphere is as tense as butter even though it's just the two of them. "I'm sorry. We've run out of medicine."

"It doesn't matter." She answers him softly, pulling her cloak closer against her chest but not moving to face him—or away from him—just yet. "It doesn't hurt."

'I can't feel anything' was the message they both heard in her words instead. They had been wounded so much that it barely hurt anymore at this point.

After a while, when she doesn't make any movement to dress or at least rest, he asks gently—because he is scared of silence, "What are you thinking?"

She doesn't say anything for a long time. He doesn't mind that she doesn't answer him immediately—he knows her well enough to know that she is collecting her thoughts. What he does mind is the silence that stretches on. He hates it. He wishes it could take tangible form so that he can bludgeon it with his metal rod. And then he would strangle it with his bare hands. Because to let the silence go on... was to let the essence of HOMRA's remains die out.

"I didn't want to kill him." She finally says. The volume of her quiet voice has simmered down to a hoarse whisper. "Sukuna didn't deserve it."

He wants to tell her—reassure her—that she had no choice. It was either her or the boy—no, that JUNGLE clansman hadn't been a boy for years. But he knows that she did have a choice. She could have done just enough so that Sukuna would only be brushing with death. Just enough so that he'd be alive… but unable to stand in their way any longer. She was more than capable of doing so.

"You know I could never do that." Anna chides him softly. He suppresses a growl. He hates it when she knows what he's thinking without having to read his thoughts. "It'd be torture... to leave him like that… aware but helpless for the rest of his life."

"So death is a mercy?" He asks, wincing at how sarcastic he sounds.

"I didn't want to kill him." Anna repeats once more, ignoring his rhetorical question. There is a pregnant pause and then he hears her swallow hard before continuing. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to kill at all…."

He lowers his gaze from the back of her head to the bloodied bandages on her back. He wants to touch his rough palm against her bare shoulder—stop her from going farther down a path he can't follow no matter how hard he tries. But she is no longer that same little girl he had tried to teach skateboard tricks to. She had been a princess then. She is a King now.

All he can say is, "Him."

Anna nods once. "He deserves to die."

It's four simple words and yet, to him, it means so much more than that. He can feel the anger radiating off of Anna more so than the Aura she gives off as a King. It is a nasty ball of an ugly darkness festering within like a disease and it has slowly been unraveling over the years of grief and suffering they'd been forced to endure. It is such a stark contrast to the bright radiance of her innocent beauty. He wants to tug it out of her and burn it in his hands. But it has become a part of her and it is the one thing keeping her alive right now—not him, her only clansman left, but her hatred and thirst for vengeance.

And it leaves him feeling ashamed.

So he asks her, because he knows something terribly drastic must've happened all those years back to incur her wrath, "What did he do to you?"

And for a moment he regrets his question. He wants to suck those words back in but it is too late. He is scared of her answer. But to choose ignorance would be to disregard what suffering she had gone through. And they were in this together.

But when she stiffens at his inquiry, he is afraid that she will shut him out and retreat further into her cage of darkness. He doesn't sigh in relief though when she speaks because her answer wants to make him puke and he feels a familiar hot rage—something he hasn't felt for a few years—bubble in his blood when she says, "That day on the school's island… the Colorless King raped me."

A thick strand of albino hair slides off her shoulder and across her back when she finally twists her head to look at him. Her face is deadpanned when she adds, "in Saru's body."

The rage in him builds and he can't help it. He knows it's not the fault of his fallen ex-best friend. Saruhiko probably wasn't even aware of what he was doing. But he feels so uncomfortable because he doesn't know whether his disgust is stronger than his anger. For a second, he thinks he might really throw up but there is nothing in his stomach to heave out. He had not eaten since last night and it is already mid-noon. He wants to save the remains of last night's dinner for her though because she needs the energy the most.

"H—He…" He wasn't sure what to say and it made him feel even worse.

"I bargained with Neko to manipulate his memories afterwards." Shadows fan across her cheeks after she lowers her eyes which are framed with thick lashes. She is so close to him that he can make out the details of those lashes.

"Did he…?" Although he can't vomit, he can still taste bile in his mouth as he struggles to form a coherent sentence.

But Anna is a mind-reader and she has known him long enough to know what he wants or is trying to say. She shakes her head slowly. "He touched me all over. Did everything… even went in… but, no, he wasn't able to go in all the way. He sensed Mikoto coming before… you know." She raises a hand to touch her ear. "But all the while, he kept whispering to me, 'I told your King I like my girls young'."

He sees a small shudder escape and shake her small but grown body. Witnessing such vulnerability makes him want to reach over and hug her but he isn't sure if that is what she wants at the moment.

"I'm sorry." Is all he can say. Because there is nothing else he can do or say to make her feel better—to erase the horrors she'd been forced to go through. He wishes he has the power to bring back the hands of time but he barely even has any power to help his King.

A heavy silence befalls them and it feels like forever that the two don't move or say anything. He is waiting for her to make the first move. And she does.

She shifts her entire body around—his eyes flick up when the movement flashes him more skin—so that she is facing him properly on the bed. It's his bed they are on because he didn't want her bed to have any blood stains as he was tending to her back.

He watches as her eyes flicker up, down, side to side, as she studies the details of his face. He doesn't flinch when she brings up an arm to map his features with a bare hand—her other hand is still clutching the ruby cloak to her chest like a cover. She trails her warm hand across his forehead, grazes her knuckles down his cheekbones, rubs the pad of her thumb up the bridge of his nose—and he closes his eyes when her thumb runs across his eyelids—and then finally she touches her fingertips to his thin lips.

Despite how intimate they are being right now, he feels a strange calmness settle within his bones. He opens his mouth slightly to let out a soft breath that warms the finger tips that still linger there.

"Kiss me." She mumbles.

His eyes shoot open but he doesn't move an inch. He stares back at her hooded wine-red eyes and he wants to say, 'what?', but instead, he surprises himself when he whispers, "No."

Her expression remains unchanged, however. Anna speaks quietly again but it is sterner than before. "Kiss me."

He stares at her a few seconds longer but her gaze is unrelenting and strict. So he turns his face into her palm and gently kisses the tips of her fingers that had still been hanging by his mouth. All the while, he does not stop staring at her. He doesn't know if he can't break away because he's in shock or something else just isn't allowing him to.

"More." She demands.

"No." He somehow manages to shake his head and he faintly feels confused as to whether it's his place to refuse his King or not. "It's—it's not right. You're not…" Stable, he wants to say. She isn't stable. But if he did say that then he'd be lying. Anna's mind has never been more clear and sharp since the day she finally became a King.

He's still so confused that he doesn't stop her when she leans forward to press her forehead against his. Like this, he feels like they're a volcano that's about ready to erupt.

"I need this." She whispers and he can feel the frantic but soft puffs of her breath against his lips. He has never been this close to a woman like this though, so he thinks to himself that if he darts his tongue out for just a second then maybe he could taste what her sweet breath is like. He knows it's a ridiculous thought.

"Please, I need this." She says again. "I've always known too much. I've always seen too much."

"You're still—" He tries to say and he's proud that he hasn't begun stuttering yet.

"I'm no longer a child." Anna cuts him off before he can finish. She pulls her hand from his face so she can reach for his own. She guides his hand to her chest and then presses it against the cloak shielding her bare front so that it is now him who is holding the cloak up to cover her. "I haven't been a child since I was eight."

When she says that, his mind flashes back to the first few days when HOMRA was taking care of her in place of Honami. She had gone to the bathroom and instead found him, almost an adult, naked as a baby. At eight years old, she had seen his everything. He didn't know why but he felt that back then was greatly different than right now.

"Please," He can practically hear the begging in her voice and he feels horrified to know that he is the one making his own King plead, "My life was never normal enough.. to let me experience something like this. Just for a moment, I want to pretend everything is fine. I want to pretend that we can still have a future. I want to pretend that I've led a normal life. I… I want to pretend that I can still feel that embracing warmth."

It comes across to him that she's correct in every way: she stopped being a child a long time already. He just always kept looking at her as such. Until now.

He doesn't know who moves first but he knows that this strong compulsion overwhelms him and he suddenly wants to lay himself down and bare before his King and let her do whatever she wanted with him. Because that's how it's supposed to be. She was his King and he was her servant. And the inch long gap between their faces closed as their lips finally met.

He kisses her gently at first and it feels so long and arduous. They are both inexperienced so their lips fumble against each other in desperation. He wants to take it slow because she is still injured and he doesn't want to hurt her. But she is a wild flame burning for more.

Her plump lips press harder against his in insistence and he doesn't have to be a mind reader to know what she wants. He gives it a second before returning her with the same fervor, giving her what she wants by slamming his mouth harder against hers. He nibbles her bottom lip and she opens her mouth to welcome his tongue that slips through. The tip of his tongue caresses hers once before moving to explore every crevice of her mouth. It's messy but he can't stop the urge to devour her. He tugs her hair to tilt her head back and she automatically opens her mouth for further access.

She tastes ridiculously sweet and he doesn't know why but it reminds him of a sip of bourbon he had stolen out of curiosity when Izumo wasn't looking. It was strong and it left him dizzy but he couldn't help but crave for more. The memory of the older clansman brings him a reprieve of clarity and with that second he realizes that her hands are dangerously close to the belt of his pants. His own hands have dropped the cloak at some point and he drags his eyes back to her face before he can begin to ogle at her bare breasts.

But he is curious and while the soft mewling sounds Anna makes are distracting, his hands itch to trace the curves of her breasts and touch the rosy peaks he had glimpsed before returning his eyes back to Anna's face.

Her face.

She has closed her eyes so that it looks like she is in bliss. But he notices her snow white lashes are glittering with silvery droplets. He finally breaks the kiss by pulling away from her. A thick strand of saliva stretches between their mouths like a connection and her pink tongue darts out to lick it away. Before she can do anything else, he grasps the sides of her face so that he can kiss her eyelids gently. When he pulls back, his lips are glinting with saliva and tears. But he is too busy studying the lips of the exotic beauty before him. Her own lips are plumper than before, bruised from the pressure of his harsh kissing. They look so red and irritated it's almost as if she had smeared lipstick over them.

"More?" He asks. His voice is strained in his own ears—he has never sounded so husky like this.

She nods and slips her warm slim hands beneath his shirt in answer. He can't help but shudder as the skin of his stomach meets her gentle but probing fingers. She has touched his bare skin before when they've had to tend to each other's injuries. But she has never touched him so intimately like this. The tips of her fingers trace the v-dip of his hips and he winces in pleasure when she starts rubbing the spot in erotic circular motions. His body aches to be touched down just a bit lower and his groin burns with desire. He wants her to do as little work as possible though so he gives in and slips his shirt off for her.

The bed creaks when he leans back onto his elbows and lets her wander her hands all over his upper body, feeling his lean muscles and the hardness of his toned stomach. Meanwhile, he tilts his face up to the ceiling and closes his eyes to ignore those tear drop shaped breasts hanging before him, tempting him. However, he feels like it's a mistake because by closing his eyes, all of his other senses become sharper. A sharp jolt of arousal pierces his pelvis when he feels her soft hands rubbing themselves all over his bare chest. He can't help but hiss every time one of those hands brush by a nipple. He almost chokes when she leans forward to bite down on the bud. She is not gentle, practically chewing the pleasure spot, but his entire body is quivering from how arousing it is. The front of his pants visibly darken once she starts encircling her tongue around the bud, soothing the ache of the sexual pain.

"Scars." She finally speaks.

"Huh?" He cracks open his eyes to glance at her but then shoots his gaze skyward when he glimpses her nudity again.

"You have so many scars." She notes so quietly that he wonders if she's talking to herself. He doesn't say anything because it's taking all of his strength to control himself as she is rubbing a fingertip against a ragged scar that's right above the waistband of his jeans. When she presses her soft wet mouth against it, he finds himself helplessly pressing his hips up in return. Again, he is horrified that he has made such an obscene action towards someone he considers his family.

He forces himself to look at her reaction and since her thick white mane is covering her front, he doesn't have to force his gaze away. He finds that she is simply smiling at him, though her smile has a hint of sadness in its corners. He is so preoccupied with her expression that he doesn't notice when she has taken his hands and guided them to her breasts.

"Touch me." She speaks again in that same authoritative voice.

He can feel the peaks of her nipples beneath his palms and it doesn't take a genius to understand that she herself is just as aroused as he is—though he hates to admit it. She leans back for comfort, bringing him forward with her. He obeys her command, rubbing his rough palms against her oh so smooth skin. She seems to enjoy the roughness of his hands which are heavily calloused from years of wielding his metal rod because she is purring under his touch. The curves of her breasts are so tempting but he refuses to lift his hands up and fully appreciate them. Instead, he decides to take things a little further and rolls her nipples around with his thumbs.

When she gasps at the action, he can feel his pants tightening even more in response. Something possesses him—something animalistic—and he can practically feel the flame within him flicker wildly as he leans forward to take a rosy bud in his mouth. He hears another musical gasp but doesn't let go. Instead, instinct prompts him to nibble the peak—albeit gently. Meanwhile, his other hand is lazily flicking her other pink nub. He rolls it in between his teeth, biting it tenderly. He faintly thinks it's ridiculous because it reminds him of the way a baby would suck its bottle. But he feels an overwhelming urge to suck her nipple just like so. When he does, he hears a sharp cry and he glances up—letting her nipple go with an audible pop—but he finds her pale face flushed a beautiful pink. Her mouth is open into a small O and she is gasping for air as if she can't breathe. But when she flicks her half-lidded eyes his way, he knows that she is not hurting.

"Touch me." She breathes. Her legs are bent to give him space on the bed but she shifts them apart to allow him to where he should have been forbidden to touch. But there is no other clansman to tell him that it's forbidden. There is no one to stop him. The only person capable of stopping him is the same person who wants him to do it.

When she lifts the edge of her skirt, she is still wearing one last barrier of cloth. Immediately, he turns his gaze away out of courtesy but not without catching a glimpse of her arousal evident on the dark spot of her underwear. And even though his dark brown eyes are turned away, he can still smell her desire. It smells sweet and musky with just a hint of saltiness. He is already so aroused at this point that he is helplessly watering at the mouth in response to her scent.

"Touch me." She insists again because he is taking too long and she can no longer wait. He leans forward and hooks his fingers onto the waistband of her skirt. She lifts herself up for a moment as he tugs the article of clothing off her. Now, the only thing she is left wearing is her lacy garnet underwear. It is the last barrier standing between him and her. It is the last thing preventing him from breaking through the forbidden gates. Before he removes it, he grasps one of her legs and holds it up to his face. He rubs his cheek against the smooth expanse of her bare slender leg, ignoring her burning stare. Then he turns his face and kisses her ankle. He trails fervent kisses and nips up her leg, leaving wet red marks until he reaches the junction of skin between her thigh and pelvis. He licks the dip there, tugging the edge of her underwear slightly aside to reach better and it makes Anna suck in a breath between clenched teeth. He does the same to her other leg, at the same time reaching his hands up to pinch and tug at her stiff nipples.

He is rough with her but at the same time he is being so gentle that it hurts for them both either way.

"Touch me." She practically moans and he takes it as a signal to go further. He braces his hands on the inside of her thighs, caressing them roughly as he dips his head forward until he is burying his face against her pussy. He hasn't removed her underwear yet but he can feel moisture against his nose. It's the dark spot he had seen earlier as a result of the wetness seeping out of her continuously. He pushes his nose against her clothed folds, eliciting a restrained "Ahn!" as he breathes in her arousal deeply.

The scent is stronger—almost overwhelming. He swallows hard at how sweet, how musky, how salty it is. And he is breathing it right in like it was oxygen.

"Touch me." She whispers in encouragement and it sounds so throaty—so unlike the usual sweet lilting voice of his younger companion. But he reaches for the sides of her soaked underwear and slides them off a porcelain leg stretched out to the side. Shedding off her last barrier is like uncovering a jewel because what he sees before him is exactly that; a flushed jewel glistening with the need to be touched. There is a gooey trail of fluid oozing out of her like a ripe peach leaking juices. It looks so appetizing that he dips his head forward and probes it with his tongue. He is so busy testing its flavor that her surprised shriek barely registers through his ears. It sticks to his appendage like honey and he closes his mouth to savor the taste of her desire. It tastes exactly how it smelled; sweet like honey but tangy with saltiness and desire.

He wants to see more of her—wants to taste more of her. Without tearing his eyes away, he grabs her bare round bottom to tug her closer to his face. He temporarily forgets that her back is injured but she doesn't make a sound and instead places the calves of her legs over his shoulders as he angles her into a better position. When he presses a fingertip against her entrance, he receives a small gasp. When he inserts a finger into her, that gasp becomes a suppressed moan. Somehow, he finds that irritating so he decides to add another finger. However, he has not prepared her enough for two fingers—his ring and middle fingers—so she lets out a breathy whimper at the burning sensation of being stretched.

She feels so wet and warm. Her walls are squeezing his long, slim fingers but he can't help but thinks that it feels good. Her walls are hot and sticky with her wetness, enticing him even more. The farther he pushes into her, the tighter it gets.

He begins to pump his fingers in and out of her at a slow, torturous pace but then looks away from his work to study Anna's face. Her eyes are screwed tight and her brows are scrunched together as she does her best to become acquainted with being touched so deeply like this. He finds it a bit amusing at how her sweet mouth is releasing hard pants and it's open so wide that he can see the flesh of her tongue.

Looking at her like this sends several more bolts of arousal down to his cock. His pants have been painfully tight for a while already but this isn't about him. This is about his King. But he can't help but want to kiss her again. To wrap his tongue around hers and rub them together because she tasted like—like bourbon—earlier and he is starting to become addicted to her taste.

So when he adds a third finger into her and starts fingering her harder—deeper—and she presses the back of her hand against her mouth to muffle a moan, he reaches out to tug that hand away and swallow her moans with his own mouth. He is deep kissing her before he can understand what the hell he is doing—because to have sex is one thing but to kiss during sex takes on a whole other meaning. But he doesn't want to stop.

His body won't stop.

She shrieks against his mouth and he doesn't know why until he realizes that he has slipped in a fourth finger. He is slipping out up till the tips of his fingers and then shoving practically his whole hand back in at an alarming pace. The action is causing the side of his thumb to rub against her swollen clit with every pump. In a heated daze, he worries if he is hurting her—if he is being too rough with her. But she is gasping consistently into his mouth and even snapping her hips up to meet the stab of his hand every time.

Something is happening now because he feels her walls contracting faster around his fingers. He stops kissing her to return to his work. His instinct tells him that she's close but he's not sure exactly what will happen. All he knows is that she is getting tighter, that as he'd been fingering her this whole time their movements had been making weird wet 'schlopping' sounds, and that the sheets beneath her bottom were now stained the same dark color her underwear had been. His groin aches with a need so strong he's afraid he might lose himself.

He is in the middle of gritting his teeth when he hears Anna cry out. It is so beautiful to his ears and he is embarrassed to admit that he finds it even sexier. Before he can ask her if she's all right, he winces in response to her walls spasming around his fingers. She is clamping down so hard that he's scared he might not be able to pull his hand out of her. Instead of panicking, however, he wiggles his fingers as she orgasms. He can feel her walls pulse and contract一sloshing his hand with new waves of her cum一as he curls his digits within her, unknowingly elongating the length of her climax. He finds it a bit fun, seeing what other motions he can make within as her slick walls stick onto him. He continues fingering her hard as she rides wave after wave of sexual euphoria.

Finally, her orgasm ends and her walls release their hold on him. When he peers back up at Anna, her eyes are closed and she is panting so hard her breasts are moving in time with her breaths. When he slowly tugs his hand out of her soaked folds, she lets out a soft moan and then murmurs, "More…"

He notices his hand is now glistening with her fluids but, when he looks around, he can't find tissue to wipe themselves with. He knows he has no choice but to clean it off himself. He knows she's staring at him as he slurps the juices off his hand with a tongue. Then, he goes on to pop each digit into the depths of his mouth and suck off the strands of her juice hard. However, her essence seem to cling to the spaces between his fingers so he has to rub his tongue between each crack.

Some of her juices begin dribbling down the length of his forearm though. But before he can lap that up, she is tugging his arm away from him. Kneeling before her, he watches as she wets her bruised lips before licking a hot wet stripe up the muscle of his arm, tasting herself on him. Her hands then release his arm to reach over and dab at the corner of his lips. Then she pops those fingers into her mouth to swallow whatever she had found at the corner of his. Gulping deeply, he shudders through another spike of arousal as he watched her small tongue lick around her lips in satisfaction.

Then, those same hands lunge at him to shove against his chest and push him onto the bed. Her hands then snake their way down to his jeans, picking through the buckle of his belt. There is surely no way for him to hide the tent in his pants since it is sticking straight up and practically in her face. But once the click of his belt and then the slither of it being pulled out reaches his ears, he clasps his hands around her wrists.

His voice is strained with desire when he asks, "More?"

"More." She answers, unbuttoning his pants and then slowly tugging down the zipper. His breathing sounds so loud in his ears but he can't control himself. He hisses when her cool hands tug down the waistband of his boxers and then grab him down there. Her fingers are actually warm but, in comparison to how hot he was, they feel so cold—so good, he thinks—against his burning skin. When she pulls his cock out, he peers at her face to study her reaction. He almost wants to laugh.

Her eyes have widened at the sight of how large he is. A good full eight inches of meaty flesh—hot and thick with need. His cock is so erect it almost touches his stomach. It pulses hotly between her slim fingers, ready to penetrate. A bead of precum has formed at the tip and—before he can stop her—she leans forward and kisses the tip. He slams his head back into the bed's cushion as her tongue slips out and rubs against his slit.

One hand slides down to fondle his sack which has become heavy in response to his arousal. She lightly scratches her fingernails against it, causing the sensitive balls to quiver under her playful touch.

He groans hard, gripping the sheets of the bed tightly. It's taking everything in his power to not thrust up no matter how much his body strains to do so.

"It twitched!" She exclaims softly but he is too out of it to be shocked at her moment of surprise. He feels her hands wrap around the base of his cock, giving him an experimental squeeze as she rubs her hands up, brushing the foreskin around his head. More beads of precum dribble out of his tip and she kisses at it again. Her lips are smeared with his milky fluid but she simply licks it away before returning to pumping him slowly. He feels a faint surge of both arousal and ridicule because she's pumping him with such determination and diligence. But he doesn't stop her of course.

"Bitter." She mentions but continues licking the head. He hears himself grunt every time she rubs the tip of her tongue against the tip of his cock. When she starts digging her tongue tip against his slit to pick up more precum, he practically sees white for a moment. He vaguely senses his balls contract when she nips at the foreskin still partially covering the head. Her saliva is a natural lubricant and she gingerly bites onto his foreskin, tugging down the layer to fully reveal the pink wet flesh of his head.

A pressure is building up in the pits of his stomach and the more she rubs and nips at his cock, the more the pressure builds. His groans are so loud—he'd normally be embarrassed but at this point he doesn't care. His hips are shaking frantically but he hasn't thrusted at all yet. All he cares about is his release. It's so close he can almost taste it. So he closes his eyes in expectation, letting his animalistic desire override all senses and wipe his mind clean of anything coherent.

But then she stops her ministrations.

He almost snaps at her for it but stops at the sight of her climbing over him and straddling his hips. Their bare sexes are flushed and pressed against each other now. She is rubbing their groins together, biting her plump lip while doing so. Her swollen clit is grinding up and down the side of his hard cock. He can feel her juices leaking onto the tops of his thighs but he doesn't mind. She gasps when he snaps his hips up once even though they're not connected yet.

He's still trying to catch his breath when she lifts herself up and positions herself directly over his ramrod straight cock. His cock is painfully engorged more than earlier. He is so erect and swollen, he can feel the thick vein at the side painfully throbbing as evidence that he is about ready to burst. Years of need and arousal has enlarged his size, indicating just how much he has kept pent up. He is hard as a rock and they're both aware that it will be painful for her at first. Uncertainty passes through her face for a brief second but he knows she's only considering if he's too big to fit in her. He only has the most basic education about sex from his school years and she has never received any advice. She is simply acting out of instinct. Somehow, he manages to press a hand against her belly and cup her pert, wet bottom with his other hand to keep her from going any further.

"Wait. Are… are you sure?" His breathing is ragged and breathless like he had just run around the entire city. "Is this really what... you want?"

She nods, and he sees the determined look in her wine-red eyes. But he stops her again when she tries to lower herself once more.

"C-C-C-Condoms." He stutters for the first time in forever. His face is already flushed red from their activities though. "P-P-Pregnancy."

To anyone else, his words are incoherent and incomplete. But Anna knew what he was trying to say. There was a high risk that she would get pregnant if they continued on. Her period was only a few days away—her fertility was at its highest around this time. But she shrugs and he can't ignore the glint of sadness in her dark eyes as she whispers, "You know it doesn't matter at this point."

And then she impales herself onto his cock, swiftly taking him in all the way up to his hilt in one go. They both involuntarily screw their eyes shut at the delicious sensation of hot, wet friction as they finally become one.

His member is too thick and large. It fills her up so much that the only way she can express it in words is to say that she feels full. They are like jigsaw pieces with the way that their bodies fit together. She can feel her insides stretching with a delicious burn as her body is forced to accommodate to the large rod suddenly shoved into her. She was a complete virgin; except for that time with Saru, her insides had never been touched一not even by herself一until now. Her core throbs with a dull pain due to having her hymen ripped so fast but she ignores it to take in the pleasure of how good it feels to have something hot and thick fill her emptiness.

In her amazement, she caresses a hand around her belly and even he is startled to find that he is able to feel that motion from within her. This is better than his fingers—it is practically the best feeling she has ever experienced in a long time. And she decides that she needs more.

When she lifts herself up to take him in again, they both notice the blood smeared all over his length. It also runs in a small river down the inside of her thigh. But they forget all about it as she quickly sinks back into him.

She feels heavenly. Her walls are clamping down on his length with a tight pressure. With how tight she is, her walls are practically sucking him into her with every pump. He can feel her liquids mixing with the beads of cum that continuously stream out of him and he relishes the sensation of it. Squelching, sucking sounds of their wet sexes echo loudly through the empty room but it only serves to spur them on as Anna rides him faster and faster. Their moans rise in octaves with each minute that ticks by.

He has lost track of time but he knows they have been at it for a good while already. He also knows that he doesn't want this to end. He wants to forever feel the slickness of her tight walls as she rides him hard. He wants to continue gazing at this beautiful King—no, this goddess—who has her head tilted back in ecstasy, strands of her long silvery hair brushing against his thighs with every rocking movement. Sweat shines on their nude bodies as their flames flicker like a wild blaze. Her breasts are pushed out in display, bouncing in his face, practically begging him to touch them. So he reaches up and grabs her breasts once more, kneading the soft flesh roughly as he continues thrusting into her. Her breasts are so soft and pliant under his calloused palms. He doesn't want to stop touching her like this. He can listen to her sweet moans like this all day.

He snaps out of his thoughts once he feels something wet dripping onto the hard planes of his stomach. He opens his eyes by a crack to discover her flushed cheeks are glinting with silver trails. Her tears are falling erratically on his stomach as she continues bouncing energetically on him. Panicking, he is about to ask her if it's too much for her to handle but she suddenly leans forward to place her hands over both his nipples. With the way she's bouncing, her slim hands are viciously massaging the two erogenous spots. She continues on to scatter passionate kisses all over his chest, attacking each of his scars with a steamy, open-mouthed kiss, tasting the salt of his sweat and her tears. As she does this, her bounces become more frantic to the point she's practically slamming herself onto him. Gravity is making her hips grind down on him so hard that each bounce leaves him a little breathless.

And as her moans grow louder and louder, he knows they are both coming closer to reaching the point of no return. The pressure within him is building to an intensity too high for him to handle.

"I—I'm going to cum一soon." He manages to groan out in a thick voice. He has given her one last warning. However, even if she did stop right there, she still is at risk of pregnancy since his bare cock is within her, leaking beads of his fluids continuously.

In response, she simply pushes herself back, holding onto his hands to drag him up and on top of her.

"Do it." She commands him, locking her heels around his waist so that he can't escape. He obliges but continues thrusting into her at a slower pace. At this angle, he can push farther into her but at the same time he's worried that the injury on her back will open up again. It seems she doesn't like it slow though, because the next thing he knows, she's pressing her hot mouth against his ear to whisper in a throaty moan, "Damn it, just fuck me."

An ancient ritualistic instinct overcomes all of his senses and he automatically slams his hips forward into hers, gyrating his hips in between each pump. The headboard of the bed knocks against the wall and she shrieks at the sudden change in his demeanor but he doesn't care. Something within him has snapped, unleashed by the will of his King. He doesn't recognize the animalistic grunts that escape his mouth as he pistons in and out of her madly like a beast. Sounds of wet flesh slapping against each other is like music to his ears, as is her beautiful gasps and moans that elicit growls from him. Her shapely breasts are bouncing in a circular motion and he digs a hand onto the soft flesh to hold one breast in place while letting the other continue bouncing with their movements. The frame of the bed is starting to shake and creak loudly in time to their violent thrusting, slamming against the wall and rocking the bedside table. The springs are squeaking so harshly but it only adds to the chaotic symphony of their moans and grunts. He is driving her into the bed so hard that they are practically bouncing on the mattress. His strength is unnatural thanks to the fire within him but his partner is a King and can take his super powered strokes. Still, he is sure that she will wake up in the morning with an additional set of bruises to her body.

Meanwhile, he notices his body is bathed in a dim red. His Aura has become visible in response to him drawing out unnatural power and strength while aggressively pounding himself into her. Blinking through the murky haze of desire and sex, he recognizes that Anna herself is engulfed with the vibrant red of her own Aura. He faintly thinks to himself that it's interesting how she's unconsciously tapping into her supernatural power despite that she's lost herself in their sexual frenzy. He feels their bodies literally grow hotter一witnesses puffs of steam come from their mouths with their erratic breathing一and it's only because they themselves carry flames within them that they are unaffected by the rise in body temperature. If anything, their burning increase in body heat only serves to heighten the pleasure of their sex. Molding their bodies against each other like this, their flames are entwining together to build into a passionate blaze of wildfire.

A glass of water topples over and crashes to the ground but neither of them pay any attention. Their bodies only continue to move in rhythm to their heated gasps. His cock is reaching inside of her so deep that he feels something spongy graze his tip and it causes his King to cry out in blind pleasure. He reels back in surprise but doesn't slow down his thrusting.

"I—I felt something." He grunts out, lifting one of her legs high up into the air by the ankle so that he can reach that same spot more easily.

"I—I think—you're c-cock—" She has to speak in broken sentences because he is ramming into her so intensely that she is cut off with a wail every time he pushes through her slick folds to hit that same spongy spot deep within her. "is hitting—the entrance—to—my womb."

The tip of his cock was kissing her womb.

The perverted thought registers numbly in his mind. It is what unleashes the pressure that'd been building in his groin for so long.

"Fuck!" He grunts over her wails of pleasure, tightening his hands onto the sheets above her head. "I'm gonna—cum!" He suddenly grabs both her legs and presses them all the way back so that they are on either side of her head. Then he drops his head down and latches his wet mouth over a stiff, rosy nipple. He sucks hard on the bud at the same time he plunges into her, deeper than ever, pressing the tip of his cock right up against her womb within.

She whimpers as thick ropes of his milky semen shoot forth and begin filling her up. She can feel the stream of hot stickiness flooding her insides, searing her from within, and this triggers her own orgasm. Her back arches, squishing her supple breasts up against his face. His eager mouth continues ravishing a blushing bud for he has been starving all day and the luscious nectar of her skin is somehow satiating.

He feels her walls contract and spasm, clamping down onto his length so tightly it is practically squeezing out every last drop of his semen. Her walls continue shuddering as he rubs a knuckle against her swollen clit. She can't hold back her whimpers because she can still feel the effects of her orgasm and it doesn't help that he is twitching madly within her. His cock pulses and throbs through her wet heat, still spurting loads of semen into her. He has years worth of pent up need to unload and, for half a minute, he continues dumping himself into her in heavy milky bouts. Their breathy moans of unbridled pleasure mingle together in harmony.

Finally, when her walls stop convulsing and he is finished emptying himself, he pulls out, both groaning as he does so. His cock, now limp from releasing its load, is dripping mixtures of their juices onto the sheets between them and he shivers because he already misses her wet heat. Meanwhile, she is finding difficulty in having her body readjust to the loss of the hot rod her insides had become so familiar with. However, she somehow still feels full because his semen has filled her up. She can feel it sloshing around her insides with just the smallest twitch of a muscle. She does her best to keep his essence within her though because she doesn't want to ruin his sheets even more despite how soaked they are.

When he sits back onto his haunches and studies his work, he takes her all in. Her entire body is littered with bruises一pale satin skin marred by hickeys. The peaks of her breasts look especially tender and abused and he can see red handprints burned onto her hips. Snow white bangs are pasted to her sweaty face and he has the urge to brush the hair away to see her satiated expression more clearly. He raises his hand to do so but then his body seems to be acting on its own and he continues to graze the back of his hand against her warm cheek. Her half lidded eyes follow his movements but she simply continues panting in recovery. His hand trails down the side of her face until his fingers brush her lips which are now chapped from kissing and even a bit crusty with dried semen. After rubbing away the remains of his essence on her lips, he lowers his inspection farther down her body.

He knows he should feel disgusted at the sight of his sperm oozing out of her folds. However, he can't resist the spike of arousal that surges through him again and straight down to his cock which twitches for more action, already beginning to stiffen and rise. He hardly minds the little spots of blood and other fluids smeared all over the bed sheets. She is his master piece一a beautiful disaster一and he is her artist.

"Put it in me again." She pants, spreading her legs before him once more. The motion causes a white glob of his semen to pour out of her and onto the sheets which are already heavily stained with the juices of their sex.

He shakes his head. Once was enough. He isn't sure what would happen if they did it again. He knows that they did what they did not because they were in love with each other but simply because they loved each other. But to do it more than once… he is sure something will happen.

"We're already past the point of no return." She whispers in a voice hoarse from screaming. Again, that same flicker of sadness passes in her eyes. He also notes that her pupils are still dilated with desire.

When he makes no movement to touch her, she raises her hand and stretches it out to him—beckoning him to join her. "Please," she licks her lips nervously, "I'm cold."

It's the brief expression of vulnerability he saw in her face that ultimately makes him oblige to her pleas. She looks like a little girl again—scared and lonely, tired of shouldering a burden too heavy to carry on her frail shoulders. He knows he isn't Mikoto and that he can never take his place in giving Anna that beautiful red warmth she so cherished as a child. But if this is what she asks of him then...

So he moves forward, entwining his fingers through hers with the hand she had stretched to him. This time, he is gentle as he guides his erection past her glistening folds and back into her all the way until he is fully sheathed in her wet heat once again. The stickiness of his semen acts as a lube, making it even easier to move than last time, though she is still incredibly tight. She draws out a soft sigh at the sensation of being filled once more.

Before he can make any more movement though, she brushes her hands through his shaggy coppery bangs and snakes her arms around his neck to pull him to her. He is still seated within her when his head hits the pillows.

"I just want to stay like this." Anna whispers to him. "I just don't want to feel cold again."

He nods and she twists around to press her back against his sweaty chest. It should be uncomfortable for Anna since he is all chiseled muscle and her injuries are still raw but she only snuggles further against him. He is still fully erect and deep within her but he simply wraps his arms around and holds her. His new mission at the moment is to give her as much of his warmth as possible.

His eyes flutter close as he succumbs to the mercy of sleep when he hears her speak with that sweet, angelic voice, "Thank you, Misaki."

"What the fuck Anna?!" A low voice hissed in her ear.

She opened her eyes to find herself in the arms of one of her men. She twisted her head around to meet the stricken look of Chitose. His eyes were wide with panic, brows furrowed in concern, and mouth turned down with a trace of fury. His harsh breaths fanned her cheeks but the one indication of how fast he must've moved was the hot energy she sensed burning in his chest. His aura simmered back into a low hum after it had spiked with sudden usage.

She opened her mouth to speak. "My… marbles…." She said dumbly. Opening her hand, she breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her marble still in one piece.

"What?!" Chitose snapped and she almost flinched at his change in attitude. He was never one to stray from his gentle-man like behavior, especially when it came to girls—especially when it came to her. "Anna! Anna that could have been you, don't you see?!"

She looked to the streets to see what he was talking about. There, in the middle of the road, was a bouquet of roses—once so crisp and fresh—pressed flat against the cold dark pavement. The wheels of passing cars continued to crush the poor flowers. A small whirlwind of ruby petals scattered across the wind every time the cars drove by.

Had they been for me?—she wondered, confused as to why it wasn't the Florida orange juice Chitose had mentioned.

"I—I'm sorry, Yō." Anna still had a bit of trouble finding her voice. "I don't know what came over me."

"You could've died, you know?! What if your leg gave out and—argh!" He groaned hard out of frustration from behind her. Afterwards, he must've sensed how terrible she felt because then he said more gently, "You scared us shitless, Anna. Maybe you care more about that marble than yourself but we care more about you then some damn marble."

"Hey!" Dewa shouted as he and Eric ran towards them from farther down the street. They'd probably taken the longer route—waiting for the street signal and taking the crosswalk instead of illegally plunging straight across the street like Anna and Chitose had. Dewa's hand was braced on his maroon derby hat to keep it from falling off.

"What the hell happened?!" Dewa gasped once they finally reached them. He and Eric were looking expectantly back and forth between Anna and Chitose.

"I…" How could Anna even begin to explain when she herself didn't understand her own actions? Blinking helplessly, she opened her hand to reveal the red orb nestled in her palm. "My marble."

The two men stepped back in surprise and then frowned in befuddlement. Except for a select few of HOMRA, most of the men often had difficulty understanding their little princess. She had always behaved with the austere air of a priestess—mysterious and well-guarded. Her mental defenses were just as strong as her outer defenses. Only the slight chinks in her armor or mask here and there revealed a sliver of her innate character. Otherwise, no matter how hard or long they could stare into her garnet eyes, they only saw a reflection of themselves—as if she was reading them back in return. So when she answered with, 'my marble', they were only left more stumped than before they had asked.

Dewa continued to stare down at her listlessly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. It seemed he wasn't sure how to respond to her answer either. Surprisingly, it was Eric who saved them from the awkward, tensed silence when he quietly said, "The roses…."

Everyone automatically glanced back at the road where most of the ruined bouquet had strewn itself all over the streets by now. Snapped stems rolled aimlessly back and forth as cars continued to drive on by. Again, Anna felt the pressure of guilt press down heavily on her chest. She dipped her head down but then felt Chitose's strong hands pick her up onto her feet. His hands gently swiped away at the dirt on her skirt before continuing to smooth out the creases and she caught a glimpse of an ugly scrape on the side of his hand. Then she felt that same warm hand lay itself atop of her head. When he spoke, he sounded exhausted and more than confused but there was no longer a hint of anger in his voice. "What matters is that you're all right. I doubt Izumo would appreciate us returning empty-handed but I'm sure he'd be more relieved to hear you're okay."

"Just don't do that again, okay?" Dewa added in, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

"So much for a short, easy joint trip." Eric commented lightly.

Dewa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let's just get back to the bar before we cause more accidents on the way."

Anna wasn't sure what to do first: eavesdrop on the commotion downstairs or process the events that had flashed in her mind on the road. She was tempted to sit on the stairs and listen in as her men including her King discussed the events of today—specifically events involving her stunts. She could practically hear them whispering in low hushes about how she was acting drastically out of character. Anna could have sworn she even heard the word 'puberty' thrown in once in a while throughout their talk. But it was hard to hear the details when she was upstairs in her room, supposedly resting—once again. The snack of rice balls and tomato juice Izumo had placed on her bedside table had yet to be touched.

Sighing, Anna turned her attention back to the marbles strewn before her on the bed sheets. She had seen many things in that split second of life or death. Perhaps they were the answers she'd been looking for. Perhaps not. She wasn't sure what to believe. After all, she was here now, wasn't she? Mikoto and Tatara were still alive. It sounded crazy to think she had travelled back in time—that the Slate had contacted her after she had spent so much time and effort years ago trying to contact it herself. Maybe what she'd seen was somehow a trick of the light. Her mind was tired. Or it could've been some kind of dream she had in that split second. Tatara had once told her of the saying that right before someone dies their entire life flashes before their eyes.

But she hadn't died.

She'd survived because Chitose had risked himself to save her. Anna had yet to thank him for that.

Remember.

That was what the mysterious woman who appeared in her marble had said. Remember.

Had she? Were those images—those scenes of death and sadness—really her memories? Were they really her future—no, her history?

She rubbed at her eyes, suddenly feeling so tired. Aches and phantom pains racked her body as if those memories were trying to etch themselves back onto her. Hesitantly, she touched the claw marks wrapped around her thin ankle. Izumo had bandaged them while she'd been resting after her incident with Tatara. Maria's face appeared in her head.

"Anna, I promised I'd protect you no matter what, didn't I?" Maria smiled wryly, her hand still trembled with exertion to keep the King contained for as long as possible.

Anna knew what her dear friend was going to do next. And Anna knew she was powerless to stop her. But she did not want to bear witness to it.

"You know I never break my promises."

Anna crunched down on the marble and let the flames swallow her as she closed her eyes to reset the cycle. But she still felt something warm splatter on her face, and her ears were still painfully ringing with the sound of the gun going off.

She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. Maria had killed herself to stop the Colorless King from hurting Anna any further. She'd called Anna her friend—her sister Strain. She'd made a promise to her. It was a promise she'd keep to her grave.

"Don't make a girl a promise if you know you can't keep it!" Maria gave Chitose a pointed look before turning back to Anna. She winked at her as she began walking away, "I'll see you around, sister!"

But the Maria of this timeline was still alive. As was Tatara and Mikoto. Anna blinked through the haze of sleep threatening to pull her under. Her head throbbed painfully as she continued to process everything that her mind had unwillingly unlocked in the moment. If she chose to accept what she'd seen as her memories… then that meant she'd have to leave this timeline. Or did she? Was she too late? All her other plans from the other timelines ended up in utter disaster and failure. I never stuck around to see Mikoto die, Anna noted to herself. She didn't have a plan in this timeline and the exhaustion clouding her mind would hinder her from forming one on the spot.

Lying her head down on the pillows, she held up the distinctively larger marble. It glinted from the light of the lamp near her. This was her 'promise' marble, she realized. It shined brighter than her other orbs because she had focused so much of her will and intentions—her wish to save her family's future—and it reflected with an intense power concentrated into such a tiny little thing. If I break this marble now, she struggled to think despite her eyes fluttering close, I could reset the timeline to start a new cycle.

She had the power.

She had the knowledge.

She had the fire of the Red King.

All she had to do was kill the Colorless King.

But deep down inside—far within the darkest corner of Anna's mind where a black door laced with thick chains contained something no one had ever seen, a little girl curled in a ball of fear and confusion whispered, "I'm so tired of running and fighting… help me."

The little girl's voice echoed in Anna's head and she shoved it back down the deep black pits of the recesses of her mind. She mentally tightened the chains on that door, ensuring that girl stayed locked—and forgotten. She had to stay strong. She had to fight. She had to save everyone. Clutching her marbles tightly within her hand, Anna's eyes drifted shut involuntarily as sleep finally swept her away. Her family's future sank her into a world of nightmares like iron shackles threatening to drown her with its heavy weight.

WE ARE OFFICIALLY ENTERING THE THIRD AND FINAL ACT OF THE STORY.

REPLIES TO REVIEWS:

Wicken25: That's an interesting idea! I did once consider incorporating the Silver King's character into the story but then I remembered how he is supposed to be pre-anime—reclusive and not wanting to be involved with the people on the ground because after what happened with his sister's death he wanted to, as the Gold King once put it, run away from all other problems and conflict. But I do have plans to add one special scene with him in. And Anna hasn't been dying, don't worry (for now). Every time she breaks a marble to reset the cycle she simply slips into another timeline. This will be further explained soon!

All'AmericanGal: It's my pleasure to update! (I get so anxious but excited every time). And thank you for reviewing! To answer your question, "what's going to happen with her and Tatara or Yata?", all I can say is that you're going to find out sooner than you think and you may or may not like it but you will definitely not like it for the most part

Mirai-chan: Hey, it's been a while since I heard from you! Since you're a guest, I've always worried if you've seen my replies to your review or not. Hope you do! You must check back on this fic often for updates if you managed to review my last chapter so quickly! To answer your first question, "how many Annas are there in different timelines actually?", a certain scene in one of my upcoming chapters will explain that. And yes I do watch Bleach! I actually really like Hollow Ichigo's character—he's so amusing! And I will be providing a bit of background for the other Annas. Also, once my story finishes, I plan to give time for readers to ask any questions and then will post a chapter answering those questions.