My father’s the one who prefers the classical European look that the rest of the house has been styled in, but these two thousand square feet are mine to do with as I please.
“I didn’t expect it to be so… big,” she says, running her hand along the yellow pine dresser.
I chuckle. “Any excuse to ensure my family doesn’t get too close,” I joke darkly.
Sora casts me a questioning glance. “You all live in the same place, but you’re not close?” she asks, her question diving deep immediately, which she seems prone to.
“I suppose I’m close with my brothers. The don is something of a… unifying force.” Trauma bonding might be what a psychologist would call it.
We all survived his upbringing together, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m friends with any of my brothers—except Miko—even if I would do anything for them.
Sora nods, as if understanding the unspoken undercurrent to my response. “The don,” she echoes, subtly noting how I didn’t call him ‘my father’. I haven’t called him that out loud in a very long time.
Clearing my throat, I nod toward her dress, ready to change topics before she peers too deeply into the psychological aftermath of my upbringing. “Do you need help getting out of that?”
Sora’s fingers reach instinctually for the nape of her neck, and she gives a sharp nod, suddenly nervous again.
I suspect she was asking questions about my family to delay her anxiousness, just like I deflected them to avoid diving too deeply.
“Here.” Striding across the room, I step deftly behind her as she slides the comb of her veil out of her thick locks.
Silk buttons run the length of her spine, disappearing beneath the elegant kimono belt.
“This looks more like a deathtrap than a dress from back here. How are you supposed to take this off without an extra pair of hands?” I ask, starting from the top and slipping the buttons loose from their tight keeps.
Sora gives a breathy laugh. “I think that might be the point.”
Like she’s a present wrapped especially for me.
My cock twitches at the thought. Politics aside, Sora might just be the most valuable gift I’ve ever received.
When I think of it like that, I’m less inclined to hate the Tanaka family, because she truly is the most captivating woman I’ve ever met—not just because she’s beautiful but because she’s intriguing, intelligent, elegant, and now she’smine.
Her hands find the ends to her kimono belt, untying it with a precision that only accentuates her nerves, and when my fingers reach the buttons at the base of her spine, a shiver ripples through her as she starts to tremble.
“Are you scared of me, Princess?” I ask as I release the last of her buttons and slide my fingers beneath the delicate lace at her shoulders.
“No,” she breathes, even as goosebumps erupt across the back of her neck.
They make me want to press my lips to her soft skin, and I step closer as I guide the intricate fabric down her arms.
“Then why are you quivering?” I murmur, leaning close so my lips brush her ear.
As the dress slips free, pooling at her feet with a hushed whisper, Sora’s perfect body is suddenly laid bare for me.
Her modest breasts are pert, her nipples puckering, and as she sucks in a ragged breath, they rise invitingly.
“I’ve… never done this before,” she says, glancing nervously over her shoulder at me.
“Done what?” I ask, softly trapping her chin between my finger and thumb.
“Been with a man. I’ve never even been kissed before today.”
At the start of our negotiations, Tatsuo had assured my father that Sora’s virginity was still intact, but hearing her say it turns me on more than I thought it might, and the vulnerability in her dark eyes is shockingly attractive.
Intense desire surges through me, making my already painful erection throb with anticipation.
I’ve fucked countless women in my life—even lost my virginity when I was younger than Sora.
