Three Years Ago

With Akito-san still at the office, it’s just us in his home, and I’m afraid the fact has made me a little crazy. And by that I mean I’m feeling way crazier than usual – about him.

A pair of baby blues stares down at me with a mixture of desire and wonder, and his hoarse voice is rough and strongly accented when he mutters, “I can’t believe you’re doing this, senpai.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this either, I think. But I don’t say it out loud, not only because it’s too embarrassing but also because I currently have my hands – and mouth – full.

Doing…this…is not what I imagined it to be at all. A small part of me was terrified I’d find the entire process gross, that I’d choke and maybe even throw up, but I hadn’t. Lowering myself to my knees, making him sit on the bed as I pull his zip down, and then opening my mouth to take him all in –

Every second of it had felt right. Natural. It felt like just another way to love him.

When his groan slips out of his throat, my lips instinctively tighten around him –

And then I start to suck, and he jerks in surprise.

“Senpai.”

His groan is raw. It’s too unearthly a sound. I feel faint, but I just can’t seem to stop sucking. Even my fingers have taken a life of their own, moving faster, gripping more tightly, just like he taught me.

The loud, staccato drumming of my heartbeat is almost lurid, with the way its every thump blends with the stroke of my tongue over the velvety tip of his hardness. He’s so, so wet – and so am I.

“Let go now, senpai.” The words are uttered between clenched teeth.

I want to obey him. I usually do. But…I can’t. Even with how badly my body’s trembling, I just can’t. There’s this little devil inside of me that only makes me suck harder, loving the way he has my mouth full.

A guttural sound hisses past his lips. “Katerina---”

OOOOH.

It’s so very rare for him to say my name like that, and I feel myself becoming wetter…and bolder. The sucking grows louder, my fingers become bolder, and his hardness swells inside my mouth.

“God. Damn. It.”

His hips thrust forward, shoving his thickness deep inside of me, all the way down to my throat.

Oh my God----

He pulls out and then thrusts back again, his hands gripping my head to keep it in place.

Oh my God----

And it happens again and again, faster, harder, deeper, and with every thrust my panties become more and more drenched.

Oh my God----

His gaze once again captures mine, and ah, his eyes are so wonderfully possessive my toes curl hard at the sight of it. And when he speaks, his voice comes in a deliciously rough rasp. “Are you really going to drink all of me?”

Oh my God----

It just makes me want to suck him forever.

“Katerina…”

I could weep at the way he makes me feel when he says my name like that. Only he can do that. Only him.

“Be mine.” It’s more the way he speaks than the words that rock my world. He says them like he knows I’m going to be a good little girl and swallow everything, says them like he knows it’s meant to be that I become his this way, too---

And he’s right.

It’s my last thought before he’s coming inside my mouth.

AAAAAAH.

Too sticky. Too salty. Too hot.

I should be choking on this, but instead my lips are wrapping more tightly around his length as if needing to squeeze everything out of him, all the way down to the very last drop.

I Am Such A Slut.

My cheeks still heat at the realization, never mind if it’s a truth I’ve long come to accept, and I feel myself reddening even more during the aftermath, which turns out to be more embarrassing than the actual act. I don’t know where to look as I pull away, and the sound of him loudly popping out of my mouth---

Bloody hell.

A low, soft chuckle tickles my ear, and a tingle dances down my spine. A moment later, and he’s yanking me towards him –

Everything happens so fast, and the next thing I know I’m squeaking in shock as I find myself straddling his lap. His fingers bite into my hips as he pulls me even closer, and that’s when I feel him.

He’s still so unbelievably hard.

My gaze jerks up to his, and his cruelly beautiful lips form the most angelic of smiles.

Uh. Oh.

“It’s time to play with my toy.”

Oh, yes. I mean – oh, no.

An hour – maybe more – must have passed by the time he’s, umm, done with me, and he pulls me in his arms after that, my body still trembling, my heart still thudding, my lungs still gasping for oxygen. It’s the usual post-orgasm aftershocks in other words, and I can’t help reddening as I feel him smile against my hair.

“Not funny,” I mumble.

“I think it’s delightful, senpai, that I can still take your breath away after all this time.”

“Hmph.” But then his arms tighten around me, just below my breasts. It’s too much temptation – and my body melts. What am I supposed to be mad for again?

For a while, we just stay there, and it feels so good I almost forget that life isn’t perfect.

Almost.

But then I hear him whisper---

“I’ll need to take you home soon.”

And reality beckons.

I know he’s waiting for me to answer, but my lips refuse to move. I know it’s stupid, but I feel like if I don’t say anything then nothing I fear will be true, and I can pretend everything is still the way it was.

“Senpai?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to go home yet. That’s my answer. I just…I just want to spend every moment I can with him. It’s such a simple thing to want, so why does everyone seem to think it’s too much?

He turns me around, and when he inhales sharply, that’s only the time I realize my tears have started to fall. I quickly wipe them away, mumbling, “It’s nothing.”

“Of course it’s not nothing.” His voice is filled with strain and regret, and I hate myself even more for it. He’s got so much on his plate now, blast it. The last thing he needs is a weepy, self-centered girlfriend to add to his worries.

“I’m fine. Really.” I give him my widest and brightest smile, but it doesn’t work, and the tension in his form remains. “Please don’t worry about me. Please?”

“I can’t help it.”

His voice was low and bitter, and I just can’t stop feeling worse and worse. What the bloody hell are you doing, KC? You’re supposed to soothe his troubles away instead of acting like a spoiled kid.

I impulsively rise to my knees, the bed dipping at the movement, but I quickly shake my head when he starts to rise. For one moment, he’s tense, looking up at me like he thinks I don’t even have the strength to do anything this simple if he’s not doing it with me---

“Please.”

Another moment, and he falls back against the bed, letting me win, like I know he would. These days, he always lets me win. I should be glad for it. But I’m not.

“I know you still don’t believe me, but I mean it, okay? You don’t have to worry over me,” I stress.

But he doesn’t speak, doesn’t even nod, and only looks at me with eyes that are just too blasted old for a seventeen-year-old guy.

“I mean it,” I say fiercely. “And I promise I won’t be stupid again. So…stop worrying?” My voice catches. “Please?”

There’s a long moment of silence, and then he simply nods. “Okay.”

I force myself to smile. “Good.” But we know we’re both lying, and with every second that passes the weight of our self-deception only grows heavier.

We don’t speak the entire ride home, and the silence hurts. I don’t want to get mad at him. I know I shouldn’t, but even so I can’t stop the resentment inside of me from growing. When we reach my place, I automatically reach for the handle to open the door, wanting to get away---

And that’s when I forget.

You can’t outrun a god.

Again, his reflexes kick in more swiftly, and he yanks me back before I can get out of his car, forcing me to face him even as I struggle against his hold. “Let go, blast it. Let---”

The rest of my words are lost in his kiss.

For the first few moments, I do my best to struggle. I give it my all, my heart in so much pain that for once, I do really want to be free of him.

But it’s no use.

The way he’s kissing me makes me remember of how perfect it used to be, of how perfect it can only be between us---

The tiniest sob escapes me as I lose my will to fight.

I love him. I still love him. I will always love him.

He pulls away then, saying quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I want to hear,” I say brokenly. “I just want you to say you love me.”

And yet he only looks at me.

“D-do you?”

But he just keeps looking at me, and the silence is even more painful now.

Oh God.

I’m about to give up when he suddenly grips my hair, dragging me close, and as our mouths meet, he whispers against my lips, “Always.”

But his voice is heartbreakingly bleak, like it hurts him to love me.

Why?

I want to ask him about it, but he’s started kissing me senseless, and all thoughts fade from my mind. Next time, I promise myself dizzily before surrendering myself to his kisses, I’ll ask.

Next time.

But by then it’s too late, and the boy I love…didn’t love me anymore.