"I want to try something," Kagome murmurs, straddling Satoru's lab as she pushes against his chest. Her skirt bunched around her. "Really?" She quirks a brow at him.

"You can't lead me through the apartment and think I won't get hard." Satoru unties his blindfold, flings it across the room. He stretches his arms out along the back of the couch, a pleased smile gracing his face. "You're still in trouble for earlier."

"That so?" Kagome inhales. The distinct smell of his natural scent and cologne lights a fire in her gut, spreading throughout her body until her head is dizzy with need. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the day's activities or the vulnerability that he let her in on that has her bursting with the desire to She fiddles with the buttons on his jacket, pouting at how the buttons just don't want to work with her. "I got it," she says, at the rumblings of laughter. Of course, her fingers choose now of all times to be clumsy.

"You're so cute." His bulge brushes against her cotton underwear. She grinds down as her hands cup the sides of his face and swallows his hiss of surrender. Her tongue draws his in with languid strokes as she seeks to uncover all the secrets that make up Satoru, the man, and not the strongest sorcerer. Satoru pulls away first, his eyes clenched shut. "You can't kiss me like that."

"I can't?"

"Mmm, no. Makes me wanna bend you over the armrest." He opens his eyes. "Ten spankings sound reasonable to me."

"You would spank me even if I stayed behind with you."

"I would?"

Kagome nips his bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough to incite a startled gasp from his lips. "Behave." This time, her fingers don't shake as she undoes the buttons of his white shirt. The hard planes of his chest are smooth underneath her fingertips, reminding her of the stone statues of chiseled gods. Satoru leans forward, shrugging out of his jacket and shirt. "You bruise easily," she remarks, soothing the pink welts.

"You have no idea how strong you are." He settles back down, rolling his shoulders. Heat flames her face. She is not as strong as he makes her out to be, but she knows by now that telling him such will only lead to him doubling down. She pecks each crease of his lips, doges his attempts to take it further to instead trace an invisible path down the column of his neck to the marks she left on his chest. "Why am I the only one not wearing a shirt?"

"You talk a lot," Kagome replies, tracing one long welt with her tongue. She leans back, admires her handiwork for a bit, before tossing her shirt over her head. It probably landed on the floor or on the coffee table. Her nipples harden behind her simple black bra, which now she regrets not shopping around for sexier lingerie. "Wait, if you can see with your blindfold on. What else can you see?"

Satoru pretends to zip his lips.

She's stalling, she knows it—but she doesn't know why she is so nervous suddenly. It's just Satoru and they've done it so many times already… which every single time he's initiated and set the pace. Satoru shifts around, brushing his bulge against her again. Okay, she can do this. She stands up on wobbly legs, tries not to think about how silly she must look standing in front of him in just her bra and skirt. She sinks down onto the flooring, a giggle escaping past her lips when her ass hits the back of the coffee table. Her cheeks flush pink at how clumsy she is. Thank goodness she was more graceful and agile during battle.

Satoru pushes the table back enough with his feet so that she can rest comfortably on her knees, even though she just scoots closer to him. She worries her bottom lip, raising slightly to unbuckle his belt. ." Her hands shake. Which is just silly because there's really no reason for her to be feeling shy now, even if he appears larger and somehow more intimidating from this angle. Kagome slaps Satoru's hands away from the belt buckle. "That's my job."

Satoru widens his legs as he raises up enough to help her in her quest of getting the offending pants and boxers off. "Don't hold back. Was it the fighting that got you so hot?"

Kagome grips him, marveling at the weight of him in her hand. Her thumb traces a protruding vein until she reaches the patch of hair. "No, fighting doesn't do it for me." She places open kisses along his length, squeezing her thighs closed, but the ache only burns more. "You do." She swallows as much as she can, her lips stretched past their limits. What she can't fit, her hands eagerly stroke. His natural scent is much stronger now, overpowering his expensive cologne. Kagome's eyes flutter shut, breathing in more of his masculine scent, and swirling her tongue around the saltiness of his pre-cum.

She wasn't sure that she would even like this, but…

"Fuck!" Satoru moves her hair to the side, his hips trembling. A few stray strands tickle the top of her breast. Her nipples strain against the inside of the bra, begging to be released, but this is about Satoru and doing something pleasurable for him. There's a sense of pride that swells up in her that she can reduce him to such a state, and how he fights back his urges for her. How he's sat back and allowed himself to be lead this time around.

"I lo-like seeing you fight." She sticks her tongue out, caresses the underside of him, opening her mouth wider to swallow more of him, until her nose touches the soft patch of hair. Her eyes water a bit, her jaw kind of hurts—actually, it hurts a fucking lot with how big he is.

"Oh?" He pants, his chest rises with uneven breaths. His hands dig into the couch cushions. The living room isn't super dark, but the blue in his eyes shines like a beacon, swirling with desire and another emotion she's too scared to latch on to. "Didn't think you'd be into that."

He and her both.

Her eyes flick to his hands. At this rate, he's going to put a hole in the couch. "I never said you couldn't touch me," she says, not realizing her mistake. She squeals, startled at how quickly he maneuvers her around so that she's bent over his lap. She should have known how his self-control was hanging on by a thread, slipping, and just waiting for her to give him the go ahead to ruin her.

"Count," he says, his voice low. The vibrations of his baritone seep into her skin and have her clenching around nothing.

"What? - ow!" She wiggles in his lap, her face and bottom aflame.

"Count." His hand delivers a swift slap to her ass.

"One," she sobs out. Wetness soaks her panties. Who knew she was such a masochist? "Two!" She simultaneously tries to move away and melt into him. Gods, she hurts - aches, wishes that he would touch her there, reach the spots that her fingers could only dream of hitting. A calloused hand palms her cheeks, soothing the sting, before sliding her panties down to her knees. "Three!" She arches her back, legs quivering with desire. "Toru please."

"Already begging? You've got seven more to go."

Seven more? No. No. She needs him inside of her now.

"Beg some more. I might take pity on you." He slaps her slit. The overwhelming pressure of her orgasm breaking through shocks her so much that she forgets to count. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, the breath stolen from her.

"Please, please. Sato—ah!" Her face hits the couch cushion, her legs instinctively widening into a more comfortable position, her ass raised high in the air. He slams into her, one hand grips the fragile back strap of her bra, while the other holds onto the back of the couch for more leverage. Her eyes roll back, white spots cloud her vision. The pressure between her legs builds with each thrust, with each slap of his balls.

"Never letting you go," he says, punctuating his words with each snap of his hips. If it were anyone else, she'd be ready to throw hands, tell them off how she belongs to no one but herself, but with Satoru—she longs for it because she knows he doesn't mind being claimed by her.

The couch cushion muffles her sharp cry as she bounces on his dick, riding out the wave. She sighs, forehead damp with sweat, as he throbs inside of her, shooting out spurts of his cum until she's full. Kagome wets her lips. "Satoru."

"Hm?" He pulls out, runs a hand up and down her back. Kagome lets out a shaky breath, works up the nerve.

"Your pull-out game—ow!"

"Count."

A/N: Sorry! I did not mean to get this update out so late. I think it's almost comical how the demons convinced everyone that they aren't real or not a threat at all. At least the younger generation of jujutsu sorcerers aren't so narrow minded. Thank you everyone for being so understanding :) I do have a Tumblr(kitsunetama) if you ever want to chit chat. See you guys Saturday. I might drop a side story later in the week.