Namine doesn't really care. At least that's what he can tell. He can't read her. Namine is about as close to emotionless as they come. She's not like the rest of her triplet sisters. She's the only one who keeps her natural hair color. She cuts it sometimes. She likes wearing white. It's as if she's carrying on some kind of illusion of innocence.
Axel knows she's not innocent, especially in bed. She's a minx. She's pure evil. She's dominant. She takes a handful of his red hair and guides him as he eats her out. She moans in pleasure as he keeps his tongue in rhythm, sometimes in 4/4 time. Once she's tired of him, she yanks his head up and leans forward to kiss him on the mouth, licking her lips afterwards. She doesn't care about her taste on his lips. She's already thinking about what to do next.
She pushes him on the bed and straddles him. Her skin glows softly in the lamplight and her eyes glint evilly as she rakes her nails across his chest. She doesn't care how he feels. She takes his throbbing erection and shoves him inside. She begins to ride him just how he likes it. He stifles a moan and grins at her. She smirks back at him, knowing full well she can have him whenever she wants. She can do whatever she wants to him and doesn't care. Without warning she grabs him by his hair and pulls him to her. Her kiss intoxicates him.
Namine bites him along his spine, more than enjoying his hisses and moans as she starts with the nape of his neck and goes down. She gets off on his pain. A true sadist. And he thought he was bad. He snorts a laugh and relishes the pain. He likes Namine because she punishes him. Sometimes he feels the need for someone to hurt him and she's just the person. She'll have him on all fours and sits on his back while she paints or draws. She'll pinch his nipples until they hurt. She'll strike him with a crop she's hidden in her closet, all without a single word.
He knows her even though they don't talk. She never says a word to him in school. She doesn't look at him in the halls. All he gets is a text message saying a certain time, and he knows where to be. He can't tell if she's happy or sad about anything. All he can imagine are her sadistic smiles and piercing blue eyes and how they close when she's at her climax. Sometimes he wishes she'll say something, but that's never going to happen. Sometimes he wonders if she even has a voice.
Axel doesn't tell her what he thinks. He doesn't tell her anything more than his name. He tries not to say too much about his life or how his day is. He hesitates to say she's pretty even though it's not a lie. Axel is good at lying. But he can't lie to her. And since he can't talk, he can't lie. He doesn't feel so bad now. He doesn't feel bad about fucking her sisters every chance he gets. She doesn't know she's just a notch in his bedpost. But then again, does Namine even care? Is she capable?
He won't test his limits with her. She doesn't demand much from him. She seems to project her rage and violence onto him and dismisses him like nothing happened. Sometimes when he's fucking her, he wonders if this is the real Namine. He watches her face light up when she hits him, her smile when she digs her nails into him. He feels her heart race when she bites him and leaves hickeys on his neck and chest. And then he sees her the next day moving about like normal-or what could be considered normal for her anyways. It's their secret. They only have one secret. Well, she has only one secret. He has three. Does that make four?
Axel smiles to himself as she dresses herself. Panties. Bra. Shirt. Pants. She doesn't care that he came a load inside of her. She washes her laundry every day, stains come out. He thinks of how she would react if he told her how he was fucking her sisters. He realizes that she probably doesn't care and throws the idea out the window. Some things are better left unsaid.