Sooner or Later

A/N - I apologize to you all. It's been too long since I updated. Much too long. I suffer so much with writer's block, and I refuse to rush and publish something that I don't feel is worthy of you. I truly apologize, and I hope you enjoy this update.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hunter x Hunter, nor do I receive compensation for this work. Characters, places, etc. belong to Yoshihiro Togashi-san.

Round 7


Machi approached her apartment with a weary sigh. It had been 12 long days since she was told of Nobunaga's demise, and the Troupe was still in an uproar. It was all Shalnark could do to keep everyone calm, as the general consensus was that they were under attack.

She'd been momentarily dumbstruck at the news. She remembered her phone ringing as she was preparing breakfast.

"Nobunaga is dead," Shalnark announced in a dull voice Machi had never heard from him before. She hadn't even had the chance to greet him.

She gasped. "Nobunaga?! What happened?"

"Are you sure you don't already know?"

Machi was puzzled. "What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nobunaga was found in the river, Machi. Mutilated. I know he pressed you pretty hard at our last meeting. You didn't seem very happy about that."

There was a heavy pause. "Do you have something to tell me, Machi?"

"Of course not!" She couldn't believe Shalnark would even entertain the idea. "I would never raise a hand to one of our own. You know that!"

Another heavy silence. "I want everyone at the hideout. Now." He hung up, leaving her to stare at the phone in a stupor. What just happened?

Machi had quickly dressed and left. The tension had been palpable when she'd arrived. The Troupe was in disorder she'd never seen before.

Was it assassins? Law enforcement they hadn't bought yet? A rival gang? No one knew for sure, which put everyone in a state of high suspicion and fear that the days of the Troupe were very much numbered. They'd already lost Uvogin, Bonolenov, Pakunoda, and of course, Chrollo.

Machi felt a pang of guilt even thinking of his name. How greatly would the betrayal show on his handsome face if he were here to see how far she'd fallen? She tried to shake off the thought as she mounted the stairs to her building.

It would probably show just as much on the faces of the people she had just spent the last nearly two weeks with, if they ever found out. Maybe one of them had, and that's why he was dead. Shame bloomed in Machi's chest.

Everyone had stayed at the hideout for safety. There had been no further incidents. Though they were still on high alert, they'd been allowed to head back out to go about their business under the condition they report anything suspicious, no matter how minor.

Feitan had wanted to take to the streets, have another Requiem of sorts. But Shalnark had advised them to keep calm and stay alert. They had no way of knowing who to strike, or if the would-be assassins would try again. Surely they would make themselves known soon enough. No need to bring unneeded attention down on them.

Despite this counsel, Shalnark hadn't been able to conceal the looks he'd been giving Machi while she was there. Did he know something? She couldn't help but wonder. It hurt that he suspected her. But it wasn't like he was wrong.

Machi had no doubt about who Nobunaga's murderer was. Hisoka. It had to be. He had already touched on the fact that Nobunaga had irritated him. He'd been an obstacle, and Hisoka didn't have a history of suffering anything in the way of what he desired.

And she was what he desired. Nobunaga had been tailing Hisoka whenever he could. It was annoying, yes. But it also could have led him back to Machi. He would have exposed her betrayal without a doubt when he brought the Troupe running to avenge Chrollo, a mission she should have completed by now.

Machi hated feeling a measure of relief that there was no longer any danger of that. But the immediate guilt that came after was painful, heavy, and ugly.

Sure, Nobunaga could be a dick sometimes, most times if she were being honest. They hadn't gotten along all that well. But she hadn't wanted him dead. She had only wanted him to stay out of her business! She could have killed Hisoka without anyone's interference. At least, that was what she'd believed at the time.

She didn't know what she believed anymore.

Machi could keep telling herself that she would complete her mission whenever she wanted to. But she saw it for what it was. A delusion.

Whether she wanted to accept it or not, her feelings regarding Hisoka had changed long ago.


Hisoka stood from his perch on an adjacent building overlooking Machi's apartment as he saw her arrive. Finally, she was home. He had much to discuss with her, and it had been impossible to do so for nearly two weeks.

After the incident with Nobunaga, he'd rushed over the next day to find Machi and tell her what had happened before she could be fed something untrue. He hadn't found her at her apartment, so he'd left, not wanting to linger too long. All his calls and texts had gone unanswered.

She was avoiding him. He knew it.

He had thought to stop by her home on more than one occasion, to perhaps wait for her there, however long it took. But with the heightened possibility of exposure to the Troupe, her apartment could end up being a trap. So he'd kept watch here and there when he could.

She hadn't come home. For days, her apartment sat empty. He'd started to think maybe the Phantom Troupe had left town altogether. Or that maybe Machi had gotten into some trouble.

He had taken up position today, having little hope that she'd actually come, when the taxi pulled up in front of her apartment building. Surprise and relief flooded his body when none other than Machi stepped out. Good. He was going crazy waiting for her, not knowing if she was alive or dead.

They needed to talk. Badly. Hisoka made his way over to one of Machi's windows.

The news of Nobunaga's death had to have been spread quickly across the city's underworld by now. No doubt Machi was in a tough position, being fully aware that Hisoka had threatened to do the deed when they'd last spoken. Had she been able to keep that information to herself?

Surely she wouldn't betray him, not with what they meant to each other. Hisoka stopped himself for a moment, pondering. What exactly did they mean to each other? Was there really anything meaningful between them to begin with? What even was this thing they had?

Should he expect loyalty from Machi?

They'd had some fun times together, naturally. But maybe that was all it was to her. Only fun. Skinship. No true connection. No loyalty. He felt more for Machi than he would readily admit. If he was honest, he'd always been a little sweet on her. But maybe she couldn't care less. She'd given him no reason to think otherwise, not really.

Was she just toying with him? Maybe, this was all part of an elaborate plan for revenge.

Sure, the sex was good. Amazing, admittedly. But did she feel anything aside from lust toward him? Was he a fool to think that maybe she'd kept this to herself and would speak with him first? Surely he couldn't expect her to put him above the Troupe.

He'd have to be very careful with her. Feel her out and see just how much he meant to her. Hisoka slipped inside.

Machi's place was a little dusty, the air a bit stuffy. She'd obviously been staying elsewhere. Why? Did she fear him? He would never hurt her, not intentionally. He discarded the thought. Surely she knew better.

It was good that she was back. The place needed her attention, as did he.

He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her. He only hoped she'd listen to what he had to say. She needed to know he hadn't deliberately sought out Nobunaga. He'd killed many people. But this time, he'd simply been defending himself.

Hisoka straightened as he heard the door lock being engaged. It was Machi, judging by the nen. Only Machi. His heart rate sped up.

Machi opened her door, grimacing at the stale air. She'd need to open a window. But as she turned to do just that, she paused. The window was already open. She could hear the busy street below. Huh?

She had closed that window when she'd left all that time ago. It hadn't been locked, though. She sighed. The air was just starting to clear, so it hadn't been open for long.

"Was it you?" she spoke into the emptiness, undoubtful of who it was.

"Yes," came the unashamed answer. She looked to her left to see Hisoka, seated in the easy chair.

Machi turned to leave.

"Wait!" he exclaimed.

As her hand touched the doorknob, his arms enveloped her. "Let me go, Hisoka," she said calmly, her voice chilly.

"Listen to me. I didn't look for Nobunaga. He came after me." Machi could hear the light desperation in his voice. "I would not have killed him if he'd have left me alone."

Machi dropped her hand, triggering Hisoka to move his arms from around her to lightly grip her shoulders. She didn't know what to say.

"You asked me not to hurt him," Hisoka began. "And I wasn't going to. Then he caught me on my way home, and…" His voice drifted off.

Machi closed her eyes, thinking. Hisoka could be telling the truth. He could also be lying, something he was very good at, having posed as a Troupe member for so long. He could just be using their relationship to manipulate her.

Nobunaga had certainly been difficult for just anyone to get along with. He was an acquired taste even for his friends.

He could press your nerves and make you lose your composure. She'd never known Nobu to back down from a fight either, especially one he thought he could win.

Machi turned around to look into Hisoka's face. His usual smirk was gone, no hint of jest in his eyes. He meant what he said.

"I don't know what to do," Machi muttered. "The Troupe is in chaos, and I'm sure Shalnark thinks I have something to do with it."

"What did you tell him?" Hisoka asked.

"What could I tell him? Nobunaga gave me shit at one time, but that doesn't mean I wanted to kill him. And I had no idea he had any contact with you."

Hisoka nodded. "You said Shalnark suspected you." His face darkened. "Did he threaten you?" He'd kill him if he had.

"Why?" Machi glowered at him. "You'll kill him too?"

Hisoka carefully kept his face blank. She must have read his mind. "It's just a question."

"Well, you don't need an answer." She wriggled. "Now let me go."

Hisoka released her.

Machi walked over to the kitchen to plug in the kettle and make some tea. She needed something to calm her frazzled mind. All hell was breaking loose, and she could feel things slipping quickly out of her control.

As she cleaned out a cup, she felt Hisoka glide up behind her, and she was in his arms again.

"Hisoka…" she began plaintively. "I can't think like this."

"Then don't think," he replied as his chin settled lightly on the top of her head. "Not right now. You can figure it out later. We can." He turned Machi around so he could peer into her eyes. His expression held no humor. Just sincerity. "I missed you, Little Machi."

It was impossible to look away. Machi had never thought Hisoka capable of holding such a genuinely serious expression not once, but twice in as many minutes. His golden eyes were desperate for her to believe him. It couldn't be real.

"Stop playing around," she muttered quietly, easing herself out of his arms.

"I mean it." His lips slowly slid back into his signature smirk. He leaned against the kitchen counter. "Who can I torment if you're not around?" He was trying to brighten the mood, however much was possible.

"Certainly not Nobunaga." Machi turned her back to him, rifling through her cupboard for some honey. She felt uncomfortable, which made her defensive.

Hisoka got quiet. Good. It was unnerving when he got affectionate. It wasn't like the man she knew from before. Until recently, the only way she ever thought he'd show someone he cared was by not killing them.

Now? She didn't know how to deal with this Hisoka.

Thankfully, the moment passed. Hisoka strolled over to the chair again, sitting as he watched her finish preparing her tea. She came over with a fresh cup, taking a seat on the loveseat.

The silence was heavy. Finally, Hisoka broke it.

"So," he began. "No tea for me?"

Tch! Machi frowned at him. She had just gotten comfortable on the couch. "You knew I was making some. Why didn't you ask for any?"

He shrugged, his face full of feigned innocence. "Most people know to offer refreshments when they have guests. You never asked me at all. Then again, I always got bad service from you."

Machi set her cup down and rose with a huff. "Whatever, asshole."

She heard the chuckle he tried to conceal. He was doing this on purpose. Of course he was.

"I don't see how you can joke right now, when we could have the whole damned Phantom Troupe up our asses." Her hand movements were automatic and purposeful. "Do you want some honey or lemon?"

"Both, please."

Ugh. She rolled her eyes, preparing his tea before plopping it in front of him. It nearly spilled.

Hisoka didn't seem to care. He daintily brought the cup to his lips, blew on it, and took a sip. His eyes closed in pleasure. "Delicious."

"I'm serious, Hisoka," Machi persisted. "If Shalnark is suspicious of me, that means everyone else is, too. I really don't know what to do."

Holding the cup to his lips, Hisoka breathed in the fragrance and stared at her for a moment. "We'll figure it out," he mused calmly. "There's no use worrying about it now."

Machi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn't wrong. It still didn't solve the problem at hand, but panicking certainly wouldn't accomplish that for her. She took a sip of her tea and focused on the herbal taste, the heat, and the scent, grounding herself.

She opened her eyes and was met with Hisoka's gaze. His mirthful expression was oddly reassuring. If he wasn't worried, maybe she could relax, at least for a moment.

Slowly, her anxiety started to ebb. She just wanted to forget her problems for now. Turn her brain off. She knew just what would help her do that. It had been a while, after all.

Machi set her cup down.

Rising, she stalked around the coffee table to stand before her guest. Hisoka looked up, his expression unchanging. "Yes?" he asked in a knowing tone. He set his cup down on the table, freeing his hands.

Fucker. He knew exactly 'what.'

Machi grabbed a fistful of the pink hair at his nape, tilting him back and kissing him roughly. Hisoka giggled against her mouth, even as his tongue entangled with hers.

She pulled back, her cheeks burning. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

Hisoka shook his head. "Nothing. It's just amusing that you had the same idea I did." His hands moved up to her waist. "To forget our problems," he asserted. "Just for a little while. Right?" He grinned.

She didn't answer. It wasn't necessary.

Standing up, he easily lifted her. Machi's legs slipped naturally about his hips. He began walking to her bedroom.

"Wait," she protested, squirming. "I need to shower."

"What difference does it make?," Hisoka asked, amused. "We're just gonna get dirty again."

Machi gave him a quizzical look.

"Okay," he relented. He diverted his path to the restroom. Once there, he set her down on the edge of the vanity, his long, deft fingers quickly untying her obi as he pinned her with his gaze. It fell to the floor, causing her uwagi to fall open.

Hisoka released her eyes to slide his perusal over her breasts, concealed inside her bra.

The arctic blue color looked like ice against her pale skin. His large hands came up to those cups, squeezing gently as he searched Machi's face again. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing starting to grow faster.

Hisoka loved watching her reactions, especially when she tried to conceal how pleasing she found his touch. Even now it was obvious how she craved him.

He knew it. Slowly, he pushed the cups of the lingerie up, revealing her milky, twin mounds. Her nipples were already peaked. Hisoka licked his lips as he used his forefingers and thumbs to pinch and twirl them, all the while watching Machi's face.

Always watching.

She blinked rapidly as her mouth opened, drawing in more air. "Feel good?" Hisoka asked. She didn't answer.

Fine, he thought. You'll be telling me real soon. His eyes locked onto his target, as he brought his face to one of her breasts. His tongue circled around the nipple before he engulfed it completely.

He heard a slight hitch in Machi's breath as he began to take hard pulls on the nipple, establishing a rhythm as his other hand continued to pinch and play with the other. He slid his free hand down from her other breast, caressing her abdomen as it slipped toward her shorts.

Hooking his fingers inside the hem, Hisoka kept sucking as his other hand joined in to help remove the shorts along with underwear the same hue as her bra. When they hit the floor, he maneuvered his body further in between her thighs, spreading them wide for him.

One hand returned to her breast while the other began to make a slow descent to his prize. Hisoka's body kept Machi from closing her legs even a little bit. Not that she wanted to. She paid no attention to all that. She was enraptured by Hisoka's mouth on her breast, the sensation sending liquid heat to her core.

If this kept up, Machi knew she would come just from the breast play. Hisoka's mouth was dangerous, and it further fanned the flames of arousal that were already flaring out of control. She needed him.

She was over the foreplay. Fuck the shower. She wanted him inside. Deep. Now. Machi tried to signal to Hisoka that she was ready. She sat up straighter, her hands going to his pants to unzip them. But Hisoka stopped her.

"Be patient, Little Machi."

It was infuriating. "Can't you just fuck me?!" she pleaded.

He raised his eyebrows in response, unshaken. She knew she couldn't force the issue.

Hisoka attended to his target. He laid the heel of his hand against her vulva, then gently spread her so he could feel the hot arousal already pooling at her core. He sucked in a breath. Her musky, tantalizing aroma made his mouth water.

Licking his lips, he descended to his knees and right onto her core like a vulture on a fresh kill. His arms encircled her thighs, and he controlled her ability to move as his fingers spread her wide for his mouth.

"Mmm," he purred, closing his eyes and focusing on his meal. He passed the flat of his tongue up the length of her slit. Once. Twice. More pressure. After that second pass, he burrowed within, tasting her channel with abandon. He loved her scent. Her flavor. Her drench. Couldn't get enough of it.

Hisoka groaned.

Machi watched him, her eyes fluttering, wanting to lay back but transfixed by his blissful expression. It was like he was sampling some exquisite thing, some finely-made confection.

It was massively arousing.

Her intention to watch was thwarted when Hisoka tightened one arm around her thigh and set his hand to her sex. Gently, slowly, he pulled the protective hood back and locked his lips around her swollen clit, sucking with such abandon that he may as well have been in his own world.

He pushed his face further against her, swallowing her bundle and trapping it tightly between his lips and tongue, suctioning greedily.

Gasping, Machi fell back against the large mirror, her arms seemingly losing strength as profound pleasure speared her. Breathing became panting, stillness became writhing, her mind spiraling in a descent into maddening euphoria spreading from her sex to the pit of her belly.

Desperately needing something to hold onto, she buried trembling fingers into Hisoka's pink strands. It was too good. It was too much.

"Hisoka," Machi whined weakly. "Stop. Ah..!" There was no way she could endure. It had been a while, too long apparently. She was so sensitive. Too sensitive!

Her lover paid her no mind. He suckled without mercy, alternating between that, laving her folds, and tongue-fucking her relentlessly. The pressure built, billowed through her abdomen. Her thighs began to shake, intermittent spasms that warned of her zenith. Her heart thumped wildly within her chest.

Her breath was expelled violently as she found herself in the grip of a potent orgasm.

Her voice rang out in a strangled cry, and her hips shuddered against Hisoka's face, in an attempt to either dislodge him or drive him deeper. Machi wasn't sure which.

Whatever her reasons, it made no difference. Hisoka didn't stop. His grip tightened, and he held her fast, slurping her essence until Machi rode out her climax, gasping and trembling.

Once she went still, he gave another pass of his thick tongue…and started again. Machi's eyes flew open in disbelief. She hadn't even caught her breath yet. Again?!

Again. This time, he added two fingers, sinking them deep as he sucked her clit hungrily. Painfully fresh from her last peak, Machi didn't last even half as long as before. In short order, Hisoka's fingers, tongue, and lips had her coming, screaming, her keening voice resonating against the bathroom walls.

Hisoka, drew back as he licked his lips, opening his eyes to admire his handiwork. His face was bathed in her release. He licked her juices from his fingers as he watched her body try to settle itself.

Smirking, he rose up over a boneless Machi, who had sagged against the mirror, too exhausted to move. He huffed in laughter as he removed his shirt and wiped his face before discarding it on the floor. "Oh my," he chortled, pleased with himself. "You squirted."

"I told you to stop," Machi complained sluggishly. Her cheeks burned at the sight of his muscled torso. Of all the things she could use to criticize Hisoka, eating pussy was not one of them.

"Come on, now. Did you really want that?" Hisoka asked, his tone not even trying to hide his confidence that he knew her true feelings. It didn't seem to bother him that she'd soiled his face. It seemed to please him.

He grabbed Machi's hips, dragging her limply to the edge of the vanity. Moving forward, he rubbed the bulge of his erection against her core. He showed no concern when her arousal stained his pants.

"Is that really what you want?" he whispered tauntingly, grinding against her. "Is it?"

He was so fucking hard.

Machi couldn't restrain the breath that somehow ended with a whimper. She was still coming down from her release, but her body was still utterly responsive. Her nerve endings seem to sing at the slightest pass of air against her skin.

No. That wasn't what she'd wanted. Not at all.

Hisoka must have seen the capitulation on her face, as he stopped grinding and focused on removing the barrier between their bodies. He didn't undress fully. He simply pulled his pants down just enough, his thick manhood bobbing, standing straight and ready.

Machi couldn't take her eyes from it. Captivated, she gave no resistance as Hisoka lined himself up, pulling her further over the edge of her perch. He made sure he was poised at her opening before he focused on her face and pushed his hips forward.

The sudden sensation of being filled so fully had Machi's eyes rolling shut, her mouth going slack, and she laid back on the counter, giving herself completely over to carnal intoxication. Hisoka, himself lost to it, began thrusting, his hands gripping her thighs as he drove himself forward.

Incredible. The searing, wet grip of her tight, sweet sex enveloping his member threatened to make this the shortest session ever. But Hisoka managed to hold on. He stroked her slow, pulling Machi into his pushes, calming himself. He bent forward, burying his face in her neck, tasting the sweat of her skin.

He breathed in her scent, the vibration of her moans pleasing to his lips. Their repeated collisions were making beautiful, sloshy, filthy sounds that went straight to Hisoka's head and his dick. "I can't get enough," he grunted as he sped his movements up again.

It wasn't long before the apartment was filled again with the sounds of mutual satisfaction.

Hisoka pulled himself from Machi, turning in the small space to switch on the shower. Returning, he gripped her under her arms and urged her off the counter.

Setting her on her feet, he gently finished disrobing her as she leaned on him for support. She looked on quietly, slow to speech after all the screaming she'd done. He took hold of her hair tie, and pulled it smoothly from her tresses, setting her long hair free.

Discarding his own clothing, Hisoka checked the water temperature, finding it to be just right for them. Taking Machi by the hand, he guided her under the warm deluge, taking position behind her.

Machi shut her eyes, letting the warm water drench her face and run through her hair. Behind her, Hisoka grabbed a shampoo bottle and lathered Machi's hair. She leaned into his touch. His fingers felt heavenly against her scalp.

Completing that, she turned and let the water rinse her hair.

Next, Hisoka took the loofah hanging on a hook and squeezed body wash onto it. He began washing Machi, his movements making circles across her shoulders and back.

She moved her head to the side, giving him access to do her neck and below. He reached around and began washing her front. He did her breasts, stomach and mons. Turning her around so the warm torrent was on her back, he watched her face as he brought the loofah to her thighs.

Machi was lost in those golden pools. She just couldn't look away. He pulled at her, like they were magnets. They pulled at each other. She just couldn't seem to free herself of this pull.

Hisoka broke eye contact, sinking to his knees to access Machi's lower legs. She placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

When he stood back to his feet, she turned around, rinsing the rest of the suds from her skin.

He placed the loofah back on its hook. "Do me," he asserted, switching places with her. Machi stared at him a moment before snapping out of the hypnotic stupor Hisoka seemed to have her under.

Following his example, she squeezed out some shampoo and put her hands in Hisoka's hair. She stood on her toes to better reach, and he tipped his head back to help. Once the shampoo was rinsed, Machi took up the loofah again.

Lathering, she started washing Hisoka's broad back and shoulders, running over his firm buttocks and hamstrings. He turned to rinse as she finished his hard calves.

She then started on his chest, his eyes intent on her face. He knew what he was doing, damn him. She felt hot under his perusal and not just from the spray of the shower. She always felt her body heat when he stared at her.

Her hand moved lower. Unsurprisingly, his body had reacted to her actions. His penis stood fully erect, and Machi tried her best to avoid looking as she followed Hisoka's example and sank down to wash his lower legs and feet.

As she washed, Machi chanced a look up. Her view was unclouded by his body shielding her from the water. The shameless, lustful look on Hisoka's face made her nether region twitch. She was encouraged. That sexy expression was for her, for what she was doing for him.

Arousal permeated her being, and she dropped the loofah. She could do even more for him. She encircled his length with her small hand, stroking him, watching his eyelids droop. Bringing her lips to the swollen glans, she ran her tongue around it, caressing the underside.

Hisoka's chest started to rise and fall faster. His mouth fell slack when she suddenly engulfed him in her mouth, slowly, taking him deeper. She opened up her throat, taking him further and further until her lips met the hard wall of his lower abs. She withdrew and did it again.

His large hand came to cradle the back of her head, encouraging her to continue. "Yeah," he ground out through clenched teeth as her movements took on a rhythm. "Good girl."

Oh, how gratifying it was to be praised by him.

While she continued her lascivious attentions, Machi reached a hand down to her own crux, pleasuring herself as she pleasured her lover. Her moans coaxed the same from him as the vibrations added that much more sensation.

"Fuck."

Hisoka was thrusting now, his breaths coming harsh and fast. Machi brought her other hand to his ass, urging him on. Her throat accommodated his movements, her motions moving in sync with the rush of his hips. His hand fisted in her hair, not hurting. Guiding. Controlling.

It turned Machi on all the more. His twitching thighs and harsh expulsion of breath signaled he was close.

She tasted him as his cock weeped, and she saw his head fall back as his cum burst forth in spurts down her throat. He moaned, the guttural sound ending in a hissing, harsh intake of air. His hand loosened in her hair.

Machi held him fast, releasing him with a smack of her lips.

Hisoka leaned against the wall for a moment before recovering. Reaching down, he pulled Machi to her feet, a nameless expression on his face as the water continued to stream down his back.

He pushed her so her back leaned against the wall, his hard body still between her and the jetting water. His hand was suddenly between her legs, stroking eagerly. His mouth lowered, taking a pert, painfully-hard nipple in and drawing deeply. Machi's eyes screwed shut as he inserted his fingers, curving them against her g-spot.

Hisoka grazed her nippled with his teeth as he found her pussy a sopping mess, ready for him. His body reacted instantly, making ready for her. He continued sucking and playing with her breast, his hand pinching her other nipple, drawing pleased sounds from her beautiful throat.

Fully hardened, he rose up, wasting no time. His hands ran down her back to grasp her ass, and he lifted Machi off her feet, guided her legs high about his waist. His hips surged forward, wrenching a cry from Machi's lips.

Bringing his face close as his hips pistoned rhythmically, he extended his tongue to play with hers, tasting her lips and mouth before covering it with his own. As their tongues swirled, Hisoka positioned his arms under Machi's knees, securing her against the wall as he palmed her ass.

Having done so, he pulled her into his pushes, pounding her mercilessly. Machi strung her arms about his shoulders and gave in to her imminent release. Hisoka buried his face in her neck.

He purred against her, his tongue sliding along her throat. "That's it," he rasped. "Give it to me."

Machi's cries rose in volume, straining against her labored breathing.

"Aaaah….aah….AHH!" her sheath convulsed, the sweet, gratifying gush of her climax bathing Hisoka's plunging phallus.

Machi's mind emptied. The man always knew how to masterfully wring orgasm after orgasm from her small body.

Hisoka made every effort to engrave his shape into Machi's body. He couldn't relent, couldn't get enough of her silken depths. He'd have her know she was his. He'd show her with his body even if he couldn't say so with his words.

And show her he did, repeatedly, until they fell into bed, exhausted, uncaring of their state of undress. How they got there from the shower neither could remember. Hisoka was just barely able to get the covers over them both, pulling Machi's sleeping body close before losing himself to blessed unconsciousness.

As Hisoka and Machi fell into a dreamless, paralytic, post-coital sleep, they forgot about the worries and perils of the world outside her apartment, if just for the night, problems that were increasingly spider-shaped.


I hope you enjoyed this. Thanks for all your reviews, faves, and follows! I'll endeavor not to take such a LONG time to update again! -Philli ^_^