In the evening, we curl up on the sofa in the large living room and binge-watch a series on Netflix, sharing a large bag of crisps, something I’ve never done with any woman.It surprises me how intimate it feels, how normal.I’ve never felt anything like normality, and I can’t imagine Hayami has either.
Just before midnight, she decides she wants to go to bed.
I follow her up the stairs, her hand held loosely in mine as if she’s afraid that if we aren’t touching, I might disappear.This new contact is something I’m going to have to get used to.Before, I had boundaries I couldn’t cross, no matter how much I wanted to.
But now?
Now I have her.
All of her, any time I want.The thought is dangerous, all-consuming, and so incredibly powerful that I almost don’t know what to do with it.
She disappears into the en suite, leaving the door wide open as she gets ready for bed.I hear the tap running, the splashing of water as I climb onto her bed and settle myself on one side, resting my back against the headboard.Junko’s journal has been stuffed into my back pocket for the entire evening, reminding me that there’s still more to be learned before I can tell Hayami about what I’ve found.
Guilt nips at my skin at keeping this from her, but I need to be sure of the outcome.I need to be positive that what I’m about to learn can be tackled, dealt with, and addressed.I’m not looking for a happy ending—Junko’s mental health is a testament to that—but I am looking for a solution.
Hayami appears in the doorway, drying her hands with a towel and only wearing a tiny T-shirt.My cock stirs, and I tell it to heel.Curbing my feral thoughts is nothing new.I’m a master at keeping these feelings under control, but it appears as though Hayami isn’t.I see the look in her eyes, the way she licks her lips as she tosses the towel to the floor and saunters over to the bed.
Straddling me, she flicks her hair over her shoulders and bites her bottom lip before grinding her pussy against my cock.
“I’m not tired yet,” she says, her hands finding their way under my T-shirt.
“And I said I wouldn’t fuck you again today, Hayami,” I remind her.
“And I respect that,” she replies, her hips swaying to an invisible tune, my cock getting harder the more she touches me.“Technically, it’s after midnight, and you didn’t say anything aboutmefuckingyou.And I owe you.”
“Owe me?”
“I watched you pleasuring yourself.Now you get to watch me,” she says.
Like the fucking temptress she is, she pulls the T-shirt over her head, and my resolve lands with it on the floor.
FORTY-SEVEN
HAYAMI
PRESENT
It’s officiallythe twelfth day since we arrived, and I don’t know who this person is, this version of me, sitting astride this hunk of a man, fingers tugging at his belt as if trying to pick a lock.I don’t recognise myself as I pull at his waistband and slide his boxers down his hips, his cock springing free.For someone who’s only done the deed once, I don’t feel like this is something I should be doing—taking the lead, setting the tone—but I’ve been held back for so long, my romance books my only guide in this sexual world.Now I feel like a panther who’s been set free.I’ve been caged for too long, pacing the bars, watching this strange world from afar, and now Fenrir’s unlocked the door, swinging it wide open, and I want nothing more than to explore.
He said no more sex today, but it’s past midnight, so it’s a new day.Now it’s my turn to show him what I know, what all those books have taught me.And if I get my kicks whilst I’m at it, then that’s just a bonus.
“How wet are you?”Fenrir asks as I lower my mouth over his cock.
“Wet enough,” I reply, then flick my tongue over the tip.
“I doubt that,” he says, his eyes closing for the briefest of seconds as he runs his fingers through my hair.“You need to be really wet, Hayami, if it isn’t going to hurt.”
“I’ve only just got started.By the time I’m done, I’ll be dripping for you.”I smile as I see the confusion pass over his face.He thinks I know nothing, that my romance books are all heaving bosoms and face fanning.
Sitting up on my knees, I grab the base of his cock and position it below my pussy, as if I’m going to lower myself onto it.Instead, I slide myself down it, the wetness coating his cock.The tip rubbing against my clit sends a blaze of pleasure coursing through my core.
I repeat the motion, allowing his cock to linger at my entrance, pushing slightly inside before sliding back up and over my clit.Spitting on my free hand, I then swap and rub the wet hand up and down his shaft.
“Fuck,” Fenrir hisses, his eyes glued to me, my body, taking in what I’m doing to him, what I’m doing to myself.
“Can you feel how wet I am now?”I ask.
“Fuck, yes.”He leans his head back against the headboard.“But you need to be punished.”
