Miho was grateful to be busy, mostly because it was keeping her out of Jazz’s path. The woman needed time to get her shit sorted, and well, if she ultimately decided to hide her feelings like a coward, rather than take another chance at being happy, then it wasn’t something Miho could force upon her.
Only encourage to a point.
It wasn’t as if Miho didn’t understand why Jazz refused to edge close to that precipice again, after all, Miho too had lost love, and family, and it had caused her so much pain she up and left her home and moved countries.
And before you go and start mumbling about how Miho is a hypocrite given her encounter with Goto, it’s not even close to being similar. He had done all the nudging, all the investing, and she just allowed it for the sake of the date scenario.
Do as Miho says, not as she does.
In an expensive car, her next client picked Miho up outside of MJS headquarters. He leaned over and pushed open the door for her from the driver’s seat, the car engine still running, and grinned as he issued his instruction.
“Jump in,” he said cheerfully, and Miho complied.
“Good evening, Subaru,” she greeted once she was comfortably belted in.
In their preliminary sessions he had insisted she refer to him by his first name all the way through, which was of course fine. For the date scenario especially, it added a sense of familiarity, made it seem as though they had known each other much longer, and for many clients that made the ‘test drive’ easy to enter into.
Miho knew, however, that Subaru had no issue with attracting beautiful and successful women – his issue was choosing the one out of many. His father was also a consideration she had to factor in; Subaru’s wife had to be the kind of woman that would befit the son of a police superintendent.
There was no risk at all in this date scenario: pure analysis with a heaping helping of enjoyment. And there was nothing wrong with enjoying one’s work. Subaru was fit, handsome, highly educated, witty-if a little arrogant – the kind who liked to pinch, and bite, and spank, and whisper dirty things in your ear to affirm his masculinity; the kind who wouldn’t be satisfied until he could hear, and see, and feel the gratification he’d wrought upon his partner.
A little shiver tingled through Miho’s body. Yes, this was exactly what she needed.
“Cold?” he enquired, attentive enough to notice, and he hit a button that caused his window to close over completely.
“Nope, just looking forward to tonight,” she admitted openly, smiling at him.
“I sort of expected to see you with a clipboard and a checklist, or a tablet to take notes on or something,” he chuckled.
“You want me to pause mid act to scribble dot points about your performance?” she enquired with a smirk. “Oh goodness, imagine the interesting things Siri would record if I asked her to take dictation during.”
Subaru joined in her mirth.
“I don’t know,” he chortled. “Hearing Siri try to articulate the sounds you’re going t be making might make for an interesting memento.”
“Confident you can get me to sing, are you?” she sniffed, feigning sudden disinterest and looking out the window, following the flow of the city even when Subaru placed his hand against her thigh.
“Haven’t had any complaints so far,” he asserted, squeezing lightly.
Getting started early – nice.
“So, how do you think you’re going to cope with a monogamous relationship?” she asked, and though the question was serious, her tone of voice was actually a little patronising.
“If you’re as good as the reviews say you are,” he answered, tapping his fingers rhythmically, “you should be able to provide me with a match who’ll never want to make me stray.”
“Good point,” she acknowledged. “But, it will be a big change nevertheless. How’re you going to deal with all those women chasing after you?”
“What women?” he asked in reply. “Hey, if I love a girl, I’ll be so busy making her happy it’ll be like there are no other women around.”
“An incredibly romantic ideal,” Miho noted, biting her lip a little and rolling her eyes upward just a touch as she filed it away.
“Ahh, so that’s how you do it,” he declared with a satisfied nod.
“Do what?” she frowned lightly.
“Take notes,” he clarified. “I wonder what kinds of stories you have stored away in there.”
“Your job isn’t wo wonder about what, or who, came before you,” she smirked, “only to leave a lasting impression of your own.”
“It’ll last,” he assured he, leaving what exactly the ‘it’ was completely ambiguous.
“That’s what I like to hear,” she laughed. “So are you going to tell me where we’re going, or is the interior of this lovely car going to require detailing in the not so distant future?”
“Too awkward,” he replied. “Bonnet isn’t bad though.”
“Favourite look-out then? The beach? Lately I’ve grown to appreciate the outdoors a little more.”
Jeez, I wonder why Miho.
“Nope,” Subaru quipped. “Tonight I show you I’m perfect husband material.”
“Well that isn’t really necessary,” she pointed out, shifting in her seat a little when his hand slid up a little more, fingers pressing inward between her legs. “I’ll find your match no matter who or what you are.”
“Not the point,” he countered. “If you’re going to do something, or someone, do it right.”
“More points for a positive attitude,” she grinned, looking at him sideways. “So what does the perfect husband do on a Thursday night?”
“We need to make a quick stop off at the grocery store,” he announced. “There is something oddly special about shopping with a woman.”
“I’ll have to add that to your profile,” Miho smiled. “For a hotshot bodyguard with a prestigious pedigree, you’re surprisingly domestic.”
“It’s important to take pride in all aspects of life,” he affirmed. “It’s not good enough just to focus on one thing and half-ass the rest.”
“So I can expect all over attention then?” she enquired, and he smirked confidently.
“You may have to cancel any clients you have for the next week or two,” he declared, “because you’re not going to be able to concentrate on anything but thoughts of me after what I do to you.”
At this, Miho grabbed his wrist and truly sandwiched his hands between her thighs, pressing his fingers right up under her skirt and against her panties.
“You’re going to want to be pretty amazing to back up that claim,” she told him frankly. “Most of our clients aim to impress.”
“Damnit woman,” Subaru growled, glancing back and forth from the windshield to her, while his fingers wriggled against her folds, struggling to burrow. “If I wasn’t driving right now…”
“Awkward spaces remember?” she grinned cheekily, before gently forcing his hand away. “Hmm, now I’m actually hungry.”
“You and me both,” Subaru muttered under his breath, taking another left turn before parking the car.
Together they acquired a shopping cart, and Miho trailed behind Subaru as he collected various luxury food items, the kind most people enjoyed on a rare basis.
“This is couply, right?” Subaru half questioned, half stated, looking back over his shoulder at her.
“Yes dear,” Miho snickered, and he paused to allow her to catch up, scrutinising her with narrowed eyes.
“Was that sarcasm I heard just now?” he questioned, standing very close to her, so close in fact a little old lady unsteadily pushing her own trolley nearby, gave them a somewhat disapproving look.
“Me? Sarcastic? Oh no, I am the height of seriousness,” she grinned, not backing down from his challenging invasion of her personal space.
Suck it up granny.
“It’s like that is it?” he sniffed, placing his hand on her hip – she still did not recoil.
“It would seem so,” she volleyed quietly as he stepped against her. “Okay, this is couply.”
“So it’s within your purview to teach me what it is to be part of a couple?” he asked, leaning a little over her shoulder.
And granny with her cart stopped, and glared.
“I’m just trying to ascertain if you need teaching or not,” she responded, seeing grandma out of the corner of her eye, even as Subaru’s lips approached hers. “If she has a heart attack, you’re the one giving her mouth to mouth.”
Subaru paused for a split second, just long enough to let the granny know he’d seen her.
“It’ll be worth it,” he said, before bringing his lips to Miho’s firmly.
It was important that Miho felt every part of his kiss, encompassed it, allowed it to sink deeply. Behind closed eyelids she envisioned she and Subaru as if from some observer – the way he pulled her in at the waist; the way he cradled the back of her neck with his fingertips half obscured by her hair; the way she relaxed against him and allowed him to lead; the way she seemed to be smiling, even though her lips could not truly be seen.
Then there was a loud clatter that drew both Miho and Subaru from that haze toward where the granny had been standing.
But she was gone.
Several cans of peas rolled away from where they had been knocked off the shelf by a clumsy basket, and tumbled until they hit Subaru’s polished shoe. With her eyes Miho retraced their path until she found pinstripes, and looked up into the face of the last person she wanted to see in that moment.
Because the deus ex machina says so.
“Pyjamas?” Subaru scowled, not moving away from Miho. “The hell are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Rosemary?” Goto responded, his voice clear by the time he uttered Subaru’s nickname – but he wasn’t looking at Subaru as he spoke. “Ishigami’s the only one who doesn’t need to eat.”
This, of course, did not escape Subaru’s notice, and he looked between them.
“Jealous?” he smirked after a few seconds.
“Of you?” Goto sniffed, finally looking to the other man, grey eyes dismissive. “Not likely.”
“Of her then,” Subaru snickered, but he noted Goto seemed distracted, not at all as engaged in their friendly-caustic banter as he usually was.
Again, he looked between Miho and Goto.
“No way,” he dropped when it came to him. “Seriously? He’s a client?”
“Shut up, Subaru,” Goto snapped, stooping to pick up the can closest to him, perhaps to hide the colour in his cheeks, or maybe just to give himself something else to focus on other than Subaru’s hand on Miho’s waist.
“Well this just got a whole lot more interesting,” Subaru grinned, his hand falling away as Miho crouched to pick up the can by his shoe.
The narrator had some dirty line about Subaru not being pleased about sloppy seconds, but it was too far outside of Subaru’s character for her to work in it effectively – you get the idea though.
“Here,” Miho said, her first word since Goto’s surprise appearance.
Tone even, lips smiling.
And nothing failed when their fingertips brushed during handover, no gasping, or dropping the can, or sudden flashes of guilt. What could or should there be? An incontrovertible desire to leave Subaru standing there with his trolley of expensive items, and go and eat peas with Goto?
You don’t even like peas.
You don’t even like…
“Thanks,” Goto nodded.
For what else could he do? Grab her possessively and hide her from Subaru? Demand she leave her job immediately because it pained him to see her with, not only another man, but that man? Try, this time, to be more explicit about how he felt given all the time they’d spent together, and not just during the date scenario?
Of course not.
“What the?” Subaru frowned, the absence of something more telling than a something itself being present. “I bet he didn’t live up to expectations, right?”
“I shouldn’t have to school either of you on the binding nature of confidentiality agreements,” Miho declared, her expression stern, all the playfulness of their flirting a moment ago completely gone. “I apologise Mr. Goto,” she continued, offering him a shallow bow, “but I’m working.”
“No, no don’t let me interrupt,” he rushed, dropping the peas into his basket though he didn’t even want them.
Nothing about his face said, actually, I really want to interrupt. He was apologetic, genuinely so, and Miho was professional, genuinely so.
And Subaru was totally and utterly perplexed by the robotic nature of their display.
“Shall we continue, Subaru?” Miho then smiled, nudging him lightly with her hip.
Only then did Goto flinch, just the slightest bit – but neither Miho or Subaru were looking at him.
“Later,” Subaru waved to Goto, as with one hand on trolley each, he and Miho rolled away.
Miho stared forward, trying to absorb the warmth of Subaru’s shoulder against hers, but somehow, the eyes on her back sucked it all away.
“That was way more awkward than sex in a car,” Subaru muttered when they were out of earshot.
“I didn’t realise you were that sensitive,” Miho mused, pleased by how nonchalant her voice sounded. “You seem almost threatened by him.”
“Me?” Subaru balked. “Not likely. There isn’t anything that pinstripe wearing dork can do, that I can’t do better, and I’m going to prove it to you.”
“Perhaps,” she nodded, continuing to walk along beside him, “but you’ll never know for sure.”
“Yeah yeah, confidentiality,” he sniffed.
“But that doesn’t stop me from asking about this obvious rivalry you have,” she went on, knowing she shouldn’t dig, but the words from her mouth before she could stop them.
“We used to work together,” Subaru answered with a shrug, casually placing certain items in the cart. “Before he moved up in the world.”
“Jealousy?” she queried.
“Are you kidding me? I’ve passed up promotions, and I’m a regular guest instructor at the Public Safety Academy,” he responded. “They ask me, if I’ll help them out.”
“I see,” Miho nodded. “And the pet names?”
“They’re not pet names,” he refuted.
“Uh huh,” Miho teased, getting back into her groove. “Smells like a bromance to me.”
“Just for that I’m telling you nothing,” he sniffed, digging her I the ribs lightly with his elbow.
“Okay,” she accepted, “but by denying me information only hurts yourself.”
“A compelling argument,” he agreed, but certainly looked as if he wasn’t going to divulge much more.
“Suit yourself,” she shrugged. “But close male relationships can, and do, impact upon romantic relationships, especially bonds that have deep history and affection.”
This caused Subaru to splutter a little.
“Affection? For Goto?” he coughed.
“I see,” she murmured, openly studying him then nodding her conclusion. “You’re not nearly as self-assured about your masculinity as you’d like people to think.”
And now he frowned at her, but Miho grinned and patted his cheek.
“You’re allowed to love the guy,” she declared.
And now she frowned.
Subaru’s expression shifted and he peered at the odd curiosity that was her sudden change in countenance.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and in response Miho shook her head.
“Distracted by the hollow of my empty stomach,” she responded, flawlessly covering a truth he couldn’t know.
You’re allowed to love the guy.
She hadn’t exactly told Jazz that, but it’s sort of what she’d meant to convey – that just because they were in the business they were in, didn’t mean they couldn’t change their plans and create their own happily-ever-afters without ruining the business. Not that that was really what was getting in Jazz’s way at all.
“What’s stopping you?” Subaru asked, and Miho blinked at him in shock – he couldn’t have been in her head.
“You’re just standing here with a look of… I don’t know, quandary, on your face,” he elaborated.
His vocabulary choice offered her an unintentional lifeline.
“Quandary? Really?” she chuckled.
“Hey, I’m a Harvard graduate you know,” he bristled, puffing out his chest in an exaggerated fashion. “Don’t underestimate me.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” she smiled, allowing her other thoughts to be buried by the immediacy of Subaru’s proximity. “Come on, I’m starving.”
Subaru’s home was what one might expect from a bachelor from a wealthy and successful background, except perhaps that it was absolutely spotless. There was not a single speck of dust, nothing seeming out of its place, not one piece of unwashed clothing dumped haphazardly in a corner.
In his space, her mind became focused, and she allowed him to take her coat, hang it, then lead her into the well-appointed kitchen.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked when she was settled on a cushioned barstool at the counter.
“What kind of wine am I?” she asked, leaning her elbows on the countertop and placing her chin on her hands.
“Hmm,” he mused, putting the pink apron he’d acquired from its place, down on the sink, so he could approach and appraise Miho empty handed. “Well, you’re certainly bold, so I could easily pair you with a cab-sav,” he began, turning her slowly to face him and placing his hands on her shoulders. “Full bodied,” he went on, smoothing down and slowly across her collarbones, “persistent, and high potency.”
“Interesting assessment,” she offered in the way of feedback, staring up at him approvingly.
“But, you’re a bit smoother than that,” he continued, tracing fingers from her collarbones, across her chest until his thumbs lightly circled her nipples hidden behind red fabric, “so maybe a merlot?”
“So I’m definitely a red?” she questioned, plucking at the tip of his tie, flicking it with her fingertips while he stepped closer.
“Absolutely,” he nodded, snatching one of her wrists and pulling her to her feet. “Shiraz maybe – intense, peppery.”
“What is peppery supposed to mean?” she laughed, draping her arms around his neck and sifting her fingers through his hair.
“That you’re bitey, feisty,” he explained, thumbs curled over the waistband of her skirt and sliding the circumference until he found the button in the small of her back. “You don’t back down from a challenge.”
“Guess you’ve got me all figured out,” she purred, turning her face this way and that as he tried to kiss her, and in response, the way he shoved her skirt down over her hips was a definitive statement of retaliation. “Leave it to a Harvard grad,” she added with a smirk.
“How hungry are you exactly?” he asked, abandoning the chase for her lips in favour of punishing her neck with a nip that left a small red mark.
“For food?” she sighed, lolling her head back to look into his face properly. “I could eat. The better question is – how hungry are you?”
“Dessert first,” he declared, taking her by the waist and lifting her to sit up on the counter before kissing her eagerly.
Truly one of the pleasures of being an adult, deciding to partake of one’s meals in any order, Miho indulged in the heated exchange of their tongues entwined while she loosened his tie and began on shirt buttons. Work or not, a confident partner was intoxicating; he filled her head with murmured encouragement, and with the echoes of her own engrossed sighs, while their groceries sat behind them untouched. And the moment the cool of the room touched the bare of her chest, fire from his lips was there to enflame the skin. Teeth tugged at her nipples, crimping impressions that threatened to draw blood but fell just short, and the sound of his belt buckle hitting the tiles promised punctuated the increasing rapidity of their breaths.
“Tell me what you want, Subaru,” she hissed into his ear before sucking the lobe between her lips and pinching it firmly.
“I want,” he growled, looping a hand under her knees and turning her sideways on the bench-top, laying her back with his discarded apron cushioning her head, “to taste every part of you.”
The marble counter was cool, slow to warm even beneath the inflamed expanses of her body, and she squirmed a little in just her lovely burgundy underwear.
“You’re not particularly attached to this lingerie are you?” Subaru enquired, smirking with one broad palm against her stomach as if to hold her down, the other suddenly holding a pair of scissors.
“Better out than in,” Miho replied, eyes on his to ensure he could see the trust she was placing in him.
Sharp implements, burning, anything that would leave lasting injuries was a no go for clients, even if that was their kink, and that was clearly outlined in policies provided in the early stages of proceedings. Miho might have pushed the limits to that here and there, allowing some to go far further than the other girls might have been prepared to, but she didn’t think this was one of those instances.
The flat edge of the bottom blade touched lightly against her abdomen, cold metal used for destruction causing a small shudder to raise goosebumps on her skin. Painfully slow, he guided the blade beneath the scalloped lace, and the scissors closed to the sound of Miho exhaling and the clear tear of elastic.
“I like that face,” Subaru smiled, his free hand sliding up her throat, thumb brushing over her lips. “Don’t move now.”
Despite his warning, Miho tensed as the scissors glided further, material giving way easily, bottom edge slipping just slightly into her crease – grazing the hood of her clit, and slithering all the way between her legs.
“Jesus,” Miho breathed, when Subaru cut the rest of her panties away from her thighs, surprisingly aroused by something so little.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been mistaken for someone’s saviour,” Subaru grinned, a whole lot more aggressive in slicing between her breasts and spilling them from their confinement.
“God complex huh?” she sniffed, moving to sit up, but Subaru pressed her down again.
“No, stay right there and close your eyes,” he instructed, his chocolate brown meres sparkling with mischief.
The scissors had been discarded – Miho was naked and laid out – though not tied up, she was still vulnerable.
Her eyes fluttered closed.
“Talk to me, Subaru,” she prompted, her voice thick with honey.
Honey, now there’s an idea.
But it wasn’t honey that next touched her skin.
The refrigerator had opened and closed, and though – as instructed – Miho kept her eyes shut, Subaru said nothing until she felt a tickle against her left breast.
“What are you…?” she gasped as the soft sensation began to circle her nipple, a gentle wetness leaving a standing trail.
“A proper dessert,” Subaru told her, brushing over her eyelids in an upward motion, and she opened her eyes.
As she lifted her head just slightly, Subaru placed a pitted cherry over her nipple on a bed of stiff, whipped cream.
“Just something you had in the fridge?” she queried, reaching toward his pants, but he took her wrist, and with a click of his tongue placed it back at her side.
“I wasn’t entirely unprepared for tonight you know,” he muttered, drawing a thin line of vanilla scented cream from the back of her hand, lazily up her arm and along her shoulder, before winding neat scrollwork across her collarbone.
“I think this actually constitutes torture,” she muttered, biting her lip. “I’m adding that to my report.”
At this, Subaru paused, and leaned over her face to study it carefully.
“Go ahead and get up if you want me to stop,” he told her seriously, dragging the plastic tip of the piping bag from between her legs, back up to her belly button, though there he left no trail.
At least he knew better than to put that down there.
“Give me something,” she very nearly begged, consciously suppressing the urge to squirm as he created a ridged white line of swirls across her. “Subaru,” she growled, glaring when he added cherries in various places.
“My bet is, you’re usually the one in charge,” he assessed, decorating her other breast. “Someone who doesn’t like to relinquish control, won’t be told, stubborn and vicious in defence of her beliefs.”
Yet she remained motionless but for her measured breathing.
“But you’re so still,” he noted, with a triumphant smirk.
“Who’s profiling who here?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes, and in them Subaru saw that though he was very much correct, she was enjoying his sweet ‘torture’.
“Nothing wrong with a little role reversal is there?” he asked as he straightened, cherry between his fingers upon which he created a little rose of cream.
“I suppose that tells me something about you too,” she noted, watching as he placed the cherry between his lips and leaned toward her.
His eyes were alight with restraint – Miho saw it – as much effort as it was taking for her to play the submissive in their soft little kitchen scenario, he too was holding back.
Cream smeared across her mouth as Subaru offered her the fruit, until Miho allowed him to pass it to her. As she chewed slowly, he traced the outline of her lips with his tongue, maintaining eye contact until he bit firmly over the cherry on her right shoulder.
“Stay,” he told her, voice stern, laced with challenge, following the line he had earlier created, lapping the trail of cream down her arm until all that remained were traces of his saliva.
When the cherry covering her nipple was consumed, Miho closed her eyes and exhaled a long, slow breath, visualising herself from above – the lost smile on her face, the arch of her fingers against the dappled marble counter, the broad stretch of her partner’s shoulders, eyes in smoky overcast, smouldering with passion barely held in check…
And she verbalised her surprise in a sharp gasp, her eyes flinging open to find Subaru peering along her body at her in question, tongue poised above her navel.
“Don’t stop,” she hissed, lolling her head to the side and forcing her tensed shoulders to relax. “You know my patience does have limits.”
“Push them,” he commanded, digging his thumbs into the inner creased of her thighs and drawing downward and prying her legs apart.
A pithy retort gathered momentum in her throat and made a dash for freedom, but Miho snapped her teeth closed when Subaru’s tongue touched just below her entrance, tickling with just the very tip, daring her to give in.
“Really? You think that’ll do it?” she whispered harshly, fixing her eyes on the halogen light above – for more reasons than one.
“Then do as you’re told,” he chuckled, before flattening out his tongue, pressing it firmly between her lips and stroking upward.
His fingers followed, spreading the slick of Miho’s anticipation, up over her clit, before sliding back down to the point where she’d even dripped onto the bench. And his index swirled circles around the tightness of her asshole, testing her resolve perhaps.
“You think that’s in my profile?” she breathed, staring, still just staring up though her body begged for her to roll against his persistent stimulation.
“Surprised it’s in both our profiles?” he answered, looking toward her face and licking his lips slowly, pressing insistently until Miho flinched – just her eyebrows, maybe her lips, as he pushed in.
“It’s not in your profile,” she told him, otherwise motionless, watching him watching her over the sickly sweet mess of her breasts.
“Well maybe,” he smiled cockily, as he deliberately he dove deeper, thumb of his other hand pulling back the hood of her throbbing bud and rubbing it ever so slightly with each pass. “Maybe, that’s the difference between he and I – I’ll search out the hidden kinks of my…”
“You and who?” she blinked at the unexpected mention of another man.
And there was only one other man that sprang to mind, and this caused Miho to sit suddenly upright, forcing Subaru to withdraw and straighten.
“Seduction 101,” she coughed out, suddenly very much alert, all trace of heady arousal fled. “Don’t bring another man into the bedroom or… kitchen… unless he’s a prearranged participant with big red bow tied around his cock.” (That may or may not now be nicknamed ‘Domo’ –cough-)
Vigorously she shook her head, baffled.
“Why on Earth would you bring up Goto when you’re just about knuckle deep in my…”
“I didn’t,” Subaru interrupted, stepping forward between her legs that dangled over the edge, and lacing his fingers together behind her ass. “You did.”
“You’re denying your man-crush isn’t who you were referring to?” she grated, barring her teeth as he dragged her right against him, residual cream transferring to his chest.
“I’m not denying anything,” he retorted, his thumbs brushing the top of her crack. “Are you?”
“This isn’t about me,” she volleyed, hands still on the counter either side of herself.
“Right, this is about us,” he agreed. “Two people, who are here, enjoying one another’s company.”
“Then enjoy me,” she hissed into his face, glaring angrily – though she was not angry at him.
Something in his eyes told her he knew that, and his expression softened.
“You’re sticky,” he noted, dragging his thumbnails up her spine and back down again, and Miho rubbed her breasts purposefully against him.
“So are you,” she noted, glad he played along, glad he offered her an opportunity to refocus.
And Miho shoved Goto into a box and closed the lid tightly.
With her legs wrapped securely around her waist, her arms around his neck, Subaru carried Miho out of the kitchen, but he stumbled when she bit into his lower lip, and she found her back up against the wall.
“Ah… you want to get clean or not?” he growled when she released him, wincing when she dug her fingernails into his shoulder blades.
“Dirty is good,” she grinned, and was not disappointed by the ferocity of his reciprocation.
It was hard for her to draw breath, such was the crush of his body against hers – but it had purpose. As he filled her mouth with renewed lust, he wriggled out of his trousers, and not long after, his briefs joined them on the floor.
“Much better,” he announced, gripping her once more and allowing her to come up for air.
“Can’t disagree,” she murmured against his shoulder, scraping teeth across skin. “You’ve tasted plenty of me – put me down and let me return the favour.”
“To get even dirtier?”
“You saying no?” she challenged, perfectly aware he wasn’t.
“No way your profile on me says I’m that crazy,” he laughed, and continued to carry her to the bathroom.
The water thrummed against the glass screen, steam wafting in feathery waves before being drawn away by the silently working exhaust fan. The rhythmic streams splashed sideways as Subaru moved beneath it, warming his back as Miho crouched before him, knees to the swirled black marble shower recess. Resting one hand against the pane, he looked down as she took his shaft between her fingers.
Wordlessly she put it to her lips, kissing softly, softly up its length, and no more – and she was pleased how he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and pursed his lips impatiently. In answer she licked a single line, outlined the head, then kissed again.
“So it’s torture for me too?” he grumbled, wry in his pained expression.
“You reap what you sew,” she smirked up at him, water spray catching in her eyelashes. “And I just want to make sure you last the distance.”
“Last?” he choked out indignantly, placing his other hand lightly against her head and smoothing his fingers through her hair.
“Why don’t you beg me?” she asked, her touch against his balls so light as to barely even register – except his was watching her with such painful scrutiny every slight and glancing touch she afforded him… oh he registered. “Come on, Subaru, talk to me, tell me what you want me to do with this tongue, with these lips, this mouth.”
“I want…” he began, but she cut him off.
“Don’t be crude about it either, Harvard grad,” she grinned, holding his cock delicately, though awkwardly, between just two fingers, barely even touching him at all. “Use your big words.”
“Oh, you’re far meaner than I am,” he sniffed, shaking his head.
“Meaner, is the biggest word you can come up with?” she laughed, pushing up against his hand like she was trying to rise.
“Hey, give a guy a ch… oh mhmm.”
His sentence crumbled in his throat as Miho sucked his cock between her lips and pulled as much of it into her mouth as she could without getting ugly.
Glancing upward, she was pleased to see the way his head hung, the way his eyes had closed, and the slight part of his lips that allowed just enough of his enjoyment to be audible.
“Yessss. Just… like… that,” he encouraged, the pressure of his hand in her moist hair was little more than its weight as she slid him into the hollow of her cheeks, caressing with her tongue as she withdrew him and then licking all the way to the base firmly.
Those sounds were gratifying, affirming, arousing; Miho thought this, every single time she performed oral, and this was no different. She stole his breath, built tension in his muscles, expectation in his mind and anticipation of final satisfaction, and that, was powerful.
Even as he moaned her name to the continuous hiss of the shower, however, leaves crunched beneath her kneecaps, and the wind sighed approvingly against the shadows that concealed them.
“Jesus Miho, stop… stop,” Subaru groaned, trying to tilt her head back and interrupt her far too effective cadence, and Miho blinked back into the bathroom.
“Haaaa,” she exhaled, unable to tease him a little more by grazing her teeth ever so lightly against his head. “Problem?”
“The best kind,” he chuckled breathily, his eyes a little bit hazy, as he stooped to help her to her feet.
“Don’t tell me you’re ready to pop so soon?” she smiled with infuriating smugness, and in response he spun her around and sandwiched her between his body and the cold tempered glass.
The mirror beyond was clear, and in it Miho was privilege to an unobscured view of herself as Subaru took her hands, and placed them above her head.
“Now we can both watch the faces you make,” he told her, nuzzling his body in behind hers, and this caused her chin to lift in alarm. “Relax,” he crooned, his cock rubbing between her legs, but making no attempt to dig within, “I know the rules – bend, but don’t break, so trust me.”
She didn’t think he was stupid, but with penis involved, there was always a chance for rational thought to take a vacation.
He waited until she looked directly into the mirror, could see she was looking at him over her own shoulder, before sliding his fingers down her crease. As he assailed her clit, he roughly took her left breast and squeezed.
“Soft, or hard?” he hummed, pinching her clit and holding as he awaited her answer.
“Oh, I’m a little of both,” she admitted, her jaw tightening as both hands increased the pressure.
“Masochistic tendencies,” he whispered, biting into the skin just below her right ear. “Sorry, I’m no sadist.”
“Bullshit,” she spat, then cried out when pleasure crossed that threshold, but the moment she moved like she’d lower her arms, he smoothed down with the flat of his hand. “Case in point,” she huffed, leaning her head back against his shoulder.
“Just look at you,” he instructed, resuming circular motions. “You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“Maybe you’re putting me to sleep?” she jabbed, and for her troubles he clamped down on her nipple.
“No crying out this time,” he told her, watching her lips quiver, seeing the muscles in her throat tighten, and delighting in the clench of her thighs as he slid himself between them.
The burn began to spread from her nipple outward, from her clit inward, until she had to clench her eyes shut tightly in order to comply.
Then, with a tingling rush, the pain was replaced by pleasant, comforting warmth, and the light euphoria of endorphins.
“I know criminals and police alike who’d have screamed at less,” he commended, reaching up, and sliding his hands down her arms, turning her once more and nudging her back.
“I’d let you practice your interrogation technique on me, Subaru,” she smiled, as he kissed down her throat, “but Jazz beat you to it.”
“Miss Mann and you, in an interrogation scenario?” he mused, eyes rolling upward, clearly imagining it. “Hot.”
“Not with me, idiot,” she chided, coiling one leg around him and grinding against his thigh. “But since you’re imagining it,” she went on, then spoke the next thickly into his ear, “I wouldn’t tell her no.”
“It’s not too late to call her you know,” he pointed out, testing out the willingness of her rear entrance again with his middle finger. “For scientific purposes of course.”
“Oh, she doesn’t need a re-evaluation,” Miho laughed. “Come on now, enough teasing – if you’re going there, and you really seem like you want to, then you’re going to need more than a finger or two to get me off.”
Really, Subaru didn’t need much more encouragement, quickly dousing her beneath the water’s stream to rinse away any remaining cream, before bundling her out of the shower.
“Have I told you how gorgeous you are?” he suddenly marvelled, wrapping a large, lavender scented bath towel around her. “You know, maybe you should just dump me as a client and marry me.”
Miho shook her head wryly.
It would never get old being told how nice she looked, how great her body was, how it felt, but even off-hand, tongue-in-cheek proposals felt awkward.
And she suddenly wondered how Goto had felt when she’d posed her solution to his hesitation.
“I could do worse, I suppose,” she answered after a few seconds, shuddering when Subaru suckled just momentarily at her clit as he dried up her legs. “And better,” she added cheekily, and he stood, folded the towel over her head and bundled her effectively blindfolded to the bedroom.
“Better?” he snorted as if truly offended, and he gave her a shove onto the bed.
Miho tumbled, flailing for a few seconds while she attempted to untangle herself from the towel, and by the time she’d tossed it aside, Subaru was looping an arm around her middle and pulling her to end of the bed, bending her summarily over several pillows it appeared he’d taken from beneath the comforter.
Allowing herself to be positioned, Miho relaxed – had to relax – and tucked one hand between her legs.
“Money, occupation, education, breeding,” he snorted, tearing across the condom packet with his teeth, watching with ever increasing want as she worked her fingers in and out, spreading the faint gleam of moisture from front to back in clear and open invitation. “Body,” he added, putting one hand on her ass. “What more could you ask for?”
Miho’s answer came as soft, slightly ragged breathing against the fabric softened comforter. In the dimness he could see her eyes were closed, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her brow slightly furrowed.
“Hey,” he prompted, giving her ass cheek a solid slap. “I asked a question you know.”
“I’m waiting, for what more I could ask for,” she told him as she opened her eyes, and pushed herself up onto one elbow. “Unless you want me to…”
“Actually,” he interrupted, suddenly in thought, “you should do that.”
“Hmm,” Miho sighed, rolling onto her back, making a point of sucking on the fingers that had been, moments ago, buried inside herself. “Keeps a tidy house, but makes her do all the work.”
“I just want to watch you squirm without other distractions,” he argued, slowly stroking his rigid shaft, tossing the unused condom accurately into a waste paper basket before lying down beside her. “I want the perfect view of that moment when Miss Control, has absolutely none.”
“If that’s what you want,” she smiled with a slight shrug. “But don’t be mad when you can’t make me cum half as well as I can myself.”
“Ha, no comparison,” he snorted, kissing up her neck to in behind her ear. “Now get to work.”
“So demanding,” she muttered, turning her head to the side, burning her gaze into his as she pulled the hood back over her clit and resumed its zealous fondling.
“I want you to picture me, pressing the head of my cock against your opening,” he told her breathily, and Miho closed her eyes. “I want you to tense in anticipation of that stretch,” he continued, rubbing the pulsing tip of his erection against her outer thigh, “feel it in your stomach boiling and bubbling and building, and moan as you swallow me, gradually, deliberately.”
Subaru’s erotic whispers floated into the dark behind Miho’s eyelids, and as intended, they heightened the ever burgeoning desire in her flesh to feel pleasure at its peak. He’d teased her for far too long, almost as long perhaps, as Yuasa Chiaki – fuck that guy.
But neither were in the image she’d formed. Subaru had told her he wanted to see her with control relinquished, and so she let her mind take her where it wanted to most.
The hands smoothing up her legs were not Subaru’s, the shadow cast over her, not his shape. Fine, inky strands of hair hung slightly over twilight eyes, pools of aching affection flickering lambent strokes against her skin. The faint touch of lips fluttered across her breasts, gliding like the brush of satin, while the unhurried, polish of fingertips explored to the very deepest reaches of her body.
Though it was Subaru who inhaled the word she uttered as her mouth opened, he who engaged the sinuous search of her tongue’s for another, it was those black locks she felt brushing against her forehead.
“Imagine my whole body, pressing you into the soft, sheets,” Subaru suggested, glancing down at the way Miho’s hips had begun to rise to meet the motion of her fingers, “a delicious, heaviness, slick with passion, and sweat, and the most indescribable completeness.”
The weight against her was a familiar one that dragged her deeper into recollection, the nibble at her lips woven with sweet exhales of her name.
“Oh…” she gasped, her jaw locking with the backward tilt of her head, and Subaru had to fight the urge to take her. “Yes…ah…ahh…”
“Right now, I just want to make love to my gorgeous wife,” she heard him say, the impossible friction of him inside her, carrying away the last of her will to resist.
Her orgasm roared like a typhoon, her lungs held in ecstasy’s vice like grip, her body arching up off the bed until Subaru pulled her back down.
“Definitely worth it,” he grinned into her face, but she was still obliviously locked in breathless trembling, hands buried between her legs. “No more holding back,” he hissed into her hair, awkwardly rolling a fresh condom into place and settling himself in behind.
“Oh God,” Miho finally vocalised, swallowing over and over to wet her dry mouth, though the roughness of her breathing made that difficult. “Ngh… ahh…” she moaned, when Subaru bent up her leg and pressed firmly against her asshole. “About fucking time,” she growled, leaning her head back to meet his lips.
And he filled her with such intense pressure she very nearly came again, even before he curled his right arm over her body and stroked across her swollen nub and in between the dripping wetness of her folds.
Slowly at first he dove into her, giving her just enough time to catch her breath before he stole it away with more powerful thrusts. Soon, the room was filled with lustful panting, and moans as firmly entwined as were their writhing bodies.
“Subaru I’m…” Miho whimpered, helpless to say much more in warning before she came a second time, her body staunchly fighting against the stiff buck of her body away from him.
“Again,” he commanded, biting down on her nipple hard, assaulting her clit so mercilessly, Miho actually shrieked against the drowning wave that slammed into once more.
Light-headed though her body felt so heavy with physical rapture, Miho really had to force herself to concentrate – to roll her hips back against him as he pushed forward into her ass, to contract all those internal muscles until the sudden inconsistency of his respiration warned her he was close.
“Come on Subaru, you call this fucking?” she taunted harshly, using all her strength to roll onto her stomach, dragging him part ways with her.
“You’re a glutton for punishment,” he snarled, wrapping both arms around her middle, drawing her up and back against him, while thrusting upward powerfully against the undulation of her pelvis.
“Reward time,” she grinned, grinding him into her with what was left of her energy.
Suddenly Subaru tensed, clamping his arms across Miho’s chest, heaving in great breaths as he came intensely. In that embrace they remained locked, until Subaru’s lips pressed to her shoulder and he pulled her down onto the bed again.
In a comfortable spoon they rested, Miho’s mind drifting to the sensation of other arms that did not wish to let her go.
It was sunlight tickling her cheek that roused Miho from slumber – not the feeling of Subaru pulling back the doona, or covering her back up; not the light swipe of his fingertips smoothing hair away from her eyes; not the sound of the curtain rails rattling.
“Uhh, what time is it?” she murmured drowsily, but her thoughts were in disarray.
She had not meant to fall asleep – hell, she never even heard her alarm go off at midnight.
“I don’t have to leave for another hour, so you can sleep a little longer if you like,” Subaru told her, pulling on a pair of striped pyjama bottoms, smiling over at her. “I’ll fix breakfast.”
“No, no need,” she said quickly, fighting back the pleasant ache of her muscles to sit up and put her feet to the cold floor. “I should get going. Damnit, I have appointments.”
“You should at least grab a shower before you run: some coffee?” he said, then grinned widely. “Shall I lend you a pair of my briefs?”
“You’re going to be billed for that underwear you know,” she sniffed, shaking her head. “It’s not my usual shtick, but, this won’t be the first time I slink home commando.”
“You’re going to ride the train like that?” he chuckled.
“Yup,” she answered flippantly, fearlessly.
“Hmm I suppose those molesting perverts know better than to target you.”
“Like I said,” she shrugged, padding across the room, “this isn’t my first rodeo.”
He followed her to the kitchen, watching the sway of her hips, noting the red marks on her back, shoulders and neck, some of which might still be visible even when she was dressed.
“So what happens now?” he asked, his hand touching to his crotch almost unconsciously when Miho bent over to retrieve her skirt and blouse.
“I will write up my final evaluation, we meet to discuss it, and following that I provide you with clients I believe best match both your criteria, and my evaluation of you both,” she answered, turning just in time to see him run his hand through his hair.
There was no mistaking his morning desire, however, clearly reaching out toward her.
“A week or two maybe,” she added, beginning to button up her shirt, glad she’d gone for a bold, solid colour.
“Come on, stay for breakfast,” he tried to encourage when she headed for the front door, her heels tapping quietly against the polished wood.
“It’s not breakfast you’re craving,” she smirked, pausing to press her palm flat against his bare chest. “Someone from MJS will be in touch with you soon.”
“Back in control I see,” he observed wryly.
“Exactly where I need to be,” she told him with a nod, curling her hair into a bun and knotting it there.
“You called his name you know,” he offered, tone offhand, but it was a targeted strike no doubt.
“Whose name?” she questioned – no play, no false innocence – just perfectly crafted denial.
“Doesn’t matter,” he chuckled, shaking his head before leaning toward her a little. “You screamed mine louder.”
She left Subaru’s property and headed in the direction of the station, his parting words and the recollection of the night’s activities in perfect focus.
Yet what to do about it was still so blurry.