Chapter Eighteen.

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'In Which They Commence'

Misaki

Akihiko's hands were frantic as they tried to shove off my clothes.

I was stuck on the counter now, no match for Akihiko's revived strength. He was like a teenager; his libido permeated through the pores of his fingers and burnt my tingling skin. His lips hadn't touched me yet... not in four minutes. Only his dextrous, frenzied fingers.

"Akihiko..." his name slipped from my lips, natural and instinctive. He paused and his hurried breath caressed my bare shoulder and neck. I shivered.

"Misaki... you're still here..." Silence. "Right? I'm not dreaming this?" His fingers left me and I felt a snowy chill pass under my skin.

"I'm here," I whispered, too pained to speak any louder; look at what I had done to this man. What sin had I committed? There is no name for peccancy so flagitious. In my selfish naivety, I had abnegated the truest vice of all and denied a man his due laurels- Akihiko had suffered undeserved cruelties in his life. What demon was I to add insult to the injury of his past? Though my t-shirt was still on, along with my shorts and socks, I was as naked as I had been at birth... was this a rebirth? A second chance?

Akihiko's finger touched my lower lip and his eyes studied my mouth ravenously. His eyebrows were knitted together in that characteristic fashion of his and every now and then his nostrils flared as he further denied himself.

"It was a crime to leave you... I... there is no apology high enough I can offer you that shall acquit what I have done to you." I begged that I had used the correct words: my Japanese was average, nowhere near the poetic prowess of Akihiko's. Akihiko's head turned the barest millimetre.

"No. This is both our faults." My hands had somehow found their way to his chest and for an incalculable time we remained frozen in our own little snow-dome, the world showering down around us but him and I frozen. His heart beat was powerful and erratic beneath my palm.

Akihiko

There was nothing, no thing, I could do. I felt like any action would make my mountain of turpitude higher; if I moved but an inch, the peak would be too high for me to reach and there would be no more hope of repentance. Was I truly so vile a voyeur? I hadn't thought of age when I had coveted Misaki. Our souls were like two halves of a photograph, once ripped in malice by some angel in a temper tantrum. We had floated to one another, bound the adhesive of love around our wounds- the abandonment both of families had performed, in different ways.

Misaki's breath stroked over my finger as I left it there on his drying lower lip. There was a bit of dry skin at the very corner of his mouth. Dare I pluck it off? Would it bleed? Would I taste?

The weight of Misaki's hands on my chest, right over my heart, grew heavier by the second. Then the weight was gone.

I flinched and looked down to see Misaki's delicate fingers shake as they undid the first two buttons of my shirt. buttons he had done up but ten minutes before. I swallowed. Then his icy touch was on my skin, gliding over to my heart. He placed his palms, sweaty and cold all at once, in a diamond around my heart, then leaned down. My finger dropped from his lip. He kissed the encircled pulse.

"I do not know the rent of such a prodigious place or even if there is room, but I wish to reside here," Misaki whispered over his kiss. My heart had stopped. My breath caught in my throat. I didn't pay attention to the misuse of several of the words he had spoken. "If I am worthy."

My hands caught his face and I gently brought it upward so that I might procure a look into those ensnaring eyes. I kissed him like rain kisses a flower, like the wind caresses the dunes of the desert, brushing back layers to reach the new landscape. His hands fettered my wrists and at length, his ankles locked around my lower back. My heart heaved as I drew him closer to me, so close that there was a chance that he might fall off the counter. But my body was a barricade to the danger, as I hoped it always would be.

I could no longer contain my passion and in my longing- sinful lust, what cruel games you play- I left red lines down Misaki's arms and chest, legs and stomach as I took off the clothes that obscured my somatic haven. Lust had altered me blind and I was forced to see with my fingers and tongue, to taste the salty plains and sweet dips. Within minutes he was shivering uncontrollably, almost truly naked as his hands began to combat the shirt and trousers he had thrown at me what felt like hours ago. A band of heat gripped under my ribcage as I was made penultimately vulnerable. Asmodeus had momentarily taken me as an earthly slave and I relished the hallowed sin. My hunger knew no bounds.

Misaki

We were only in our boxers, intoxicating warmth and duping emotions tangling our nerves irreversibly. Every tendon and muscle in my body was knotted, tense as a beautiful adulteration of dread and aphrodisia roped Akihiko and I together. I had never felt more alive. I was disabled for a few, panting moments as Akihiko threw me to an unseeable edge, oblivion charring my fingertips with its visceral soot.

I must have blacked out for a minute or two but woke up to the writhing muscularity of Akihiko's body as he blessed my skin- torso, shoulders, neck, chest, thighs- with ecstatic, tortuous encomiums, the carnalities of which cannot be demoted to such words as 'kiss', 'lick' and 'bite'; these were unspeakable, indescribable combinations.

My fingers, tackling with a bewildering formication, slipped down Akihiko's chest as I sucked his lip raw. I tasted blood but was not startled, so drugged was I by this exploit and in a second I realised that whilst I had switched off, our boxers had disappeared; I could only assume they had evaporated, literally.

A stentorian groan rocked my body as some appendage of Akihiko's thrust into me, hard. All my diffidence had been blasted.

His fingers left me and were replaced with something intimidating, intimate and illustrative of Akihiko's primal blessings... all poetic language aside: Akihiko had a great dick.

"You're blushing," Akihiko growled as he gnawed at my neck. I was wracked with laughter as I nodded and hugged his neck. Akihiko drew back and gazed into my eyes. Anyone who saw us then would think we were on opium, with how stoned we looked. He began to laugh too. "You usually blush a lot sooner."

"Ah!" Akihiko passed over a very sensitive spot inside me. He doctored my skin softly, practically liquifying me.

"Why are you blushing?" he recommenced.

"I thought of..." Shyness strangled me.

"Go on," Akihiko encouraged, hands at my hips as he adjusted both of us comfortably. I shook my head against his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his broad back. My arms periodically pulled away from one another as Akihiko breathed. He began to roll his hips and he staggered on his feet as I tightened around him. He chuckled and looked at my face. "There it is again... such a quiescent blush. What thought woke it up?"

There was no way in hell I was going to say that the thought of his dick had made me blush. I bit his chest as a distraction. It worked. It provoked him to pummel me gradually until my limbs were puppeteered at his command. I managed to elicit some shocked groans from him, though, as I acted out the fantasies I had had. Dominating him turned out to be a lot of fun and I soon learnt that Akihiko liked... pattern.

I laughed quietly into his ear as his arm shot out to the cabinet behind me to steady himself.

"Struggling?" I teased. I relaxed myself and he sighed in a sort of relief. He actually took a moment to gather himself, his other hand splayed between my shoulderblades. We were both potential seconds away from our climaxes.

"Tighten again," he snarled. I couldn't help but beam, proud with myself. I scratched lightly down his chest and rewrapped my arms around his back, tightly. "Not like that. Don't act ignorant..." he panted.

"Ignorantly, isn't it? Isn't that the correct use of the- AH!" I bit my lip extremely hard as Akihiko dished out a little revenge, thumb and finger ready again at my chest.

"Again," he threatened. For a moment, I thought I might be too tired to use muscles I hadn't exercised in months. Aside from when I had last been with Akihiko, those muscles simply hadn't been moved in this way. Never before had I employed them so forcefully or skilfully before. I was utterly delighted with my discovery.

I contracted. Akihiko's hand turned into a fist on my back, nails digging in mercilessly. My moan was unheard, my voicebox incapable of such a peak.

Suddenly, Akihiko's hand shot around and slammed at my collarbone. My head almost hit the cabinet. I gasped and was breath-stricken for a couple of seconds as Akihiko's harsh glare hit me. He thrusted with a vengeful sort of strength. It wasn't painful at all. His thrusts came every three seconds as his glare softened. He came forward and kissed me so softly I thought I might cry. I knew exactly what he was doing.

He was telling me, without words, that I was his. He was rightfully marking his territory.

I struggled as I combatted the thought that he thought he was of a higher status than me, that I was a slave of some sort, leashed. But I soon relaxed; his kiss told me all I needed to know. As well as telling me that I was his, he was assuring himself that he was strong enough to protect me, fend and provide for me.

I stroked softly down his back, mouth on his shoulder as he hit me with juxtaposing force. He kissed my shoulder in gratitude for my understanding.