Oshun trudged up the stairs after a day spent playing “Guess the Big Bad” with Masaki. For most people, she was sure the exchange would've ended after a few moments. But, when you were raised in the underworld, you inherited enemies like precious family heirlooms, their hatred cultivated and passed down from one generation to the next.

Mentally exhausted, she showered, put on a crop top, a pair of comfy sweatpants, and wrapped a satin scarf around her locs. She turned down the linens, prepared to bury herself beneath them when restlessness began to unfurl in the pit of her stomach.

She took a breath and contemplated ignoring the signs. But, she knew if she laid down with feelings of anxiousness twisting inside her, she'd be up all night and miserable in the morning.

She walked back into the ensuite bathroom, grabbed a tub of coconut oil, hair clips, and a comb before heading down to the living room. Never one to waste an opportunity to be productive, if she couldn’t spend the night sleeping, she may as well twist her hair up.

There used to be a time when any free time you had landed you in Masaki’s bed.

She flinched at the reminder her traitorous memory insisted on shoving in her face. No matter what she felt for him, they weren't a typical couple dealing with standard matters of the heart. There was so much more to be considered than just doing what felt good. They each needed time to deal with everything that was happening to and around them.

Determined to let sleeping dogs lie, at least for the moment, she headed for the living room, parking herself cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch. A quick press of the remote and she was watching television as she began the long process of re-twisting her locs.

She’d just dipped her fingers into the coconut oil when she heard, “You want help?”

She looked up to find Masaki standing in the doorway. Topless, with a pair of sweatpants on, he was the epitome of desire. Carved muscles throughout his torso and a dick print that demanded her attention from across the room, all he needed was a flashing red light to complete the warning he should come with.

“I'm sure you've got better things to do,” she argued. “Did you get a chance to talk to your mom yet tonight?” That’s right, throw his mother in his face to kill some of that sexy he has going on.

He pushed off the door jamb and walked toward her. “Yes, I did. Even though I’m using a burner phone to call her, it’s not wise to stay on too long. Your father and his people are treating her well, that's all I needed to know. So, there’s nothing keeping me from helping you.”

He moved closer to where she sat on the floor, looking edible in those damn sweatpants. Either they were extra thin, or his fucking cock was so heavy it looked like a solid rod was hanging between his legs.

She closed her eyes to give herself a reprieve. Looking at him, with his cocky smile and easy nature, had her so damn thirsty for him, she wasn’t certain she could control herself for much longer.

“I even took the time to call Seth Stein and see what’s going on in my organization,” he continued.

“What did he say?”

Masaki shrugged his shoulders. “He still doesn’t know anything definitive about who could be after us. He's following some leads and will get back to me. He says that for now everything appears quiet on the home front. Suggested both our seconds might be the only two involved in this mess.”

He took a deep breath, slapping his hands on his muscular thighs. “Either way, I’ve done all I can do for now.”

She offered him a bit of side-eye, silently calling bullshit on his sudden desire to help her with her hair.

“Need I remind you,” he added, forcing her to look up at him and rejoin the conversation. “We've been hidden in the mountains for six weeks. Helping you twist your hair is just what I need.”

He sat behind her on the couch, then spread his legs to make room for her to lean back against it. She was about to protest his help again when she felt his fingers bury themselves in her hair and lightly massage her scalp.

She tilted her head slightly and smiled as she spoke, “You sure you remember how to do this? I don't need you destroying my locs.”

He leaned down, placed a kiss on the side of her mouth and moved his mouth near her ear.

“I remember everything where you're concerned.”

The low timbre of his voice tickled her ear and caressed the exposed curve of her neck. She settled between his legs, welcoming the playfulness between them. The last six weeks had taken them from easygoing lovers, to patient and caretaker. She was afraid the fiasco they were attempting to find their way through had swallowed up the fire that made them, Oshun and Masaki.

They quietly twisted each of the long locs on her head, keeping a quick and comfortable pattern. Every time his fingers grazed her scalp, a tingle of electricity passed through her making her ache for him.

When people talked about the erogenous zones of the body, very rarely did she hear of anyone talking about the scalp and hair. Getting one’s hair done probably seemed mundane to most. However, to her, letting someone get close enough to play in her treasured strands denoted an intimacy she didn’t share with most people. If you were granted permission to touch her hair, Oshun trusted you.

They worked in concert until they were finished, and her hair was de-frizzed, and neatly tamed. She gathered her locs on the top of her head, pinning them in a noble crown, then tied a headscarf around her head, protecting their meticulous work.

She stood up. Unprepared to assume this would be leading where it usually did, she attempted to step away from him when he caught her hand. He gently pulled, and she eagerly followed until she was straddled across his lap.

He shifted beneath her and she could feel the obvious swell of his cock through the thin material of his sweatpants. “You up for this, Oshun?”

She let her eyelids fall closed, leaned her head back, and swiveled her hips to allow her mound to graze across his length. Even with clothes on, the sensation was profound enough to have her hissing through clenched teeth.

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly.

She continued to swivel, reveling in the blessed friction their clothes and movements were creating. She was almost lost in the lull of their rhythm when she felt his finger caress the scars from her bullet wound and resulting surgery.

“Oshun?” His reply was terse. He wasn’t going to let her ignore his question. That was Masaki, always pushing her to face things she’d rather forget.

She ran a hand through his hair, and let her fingers travel down the side of his face, until they were tracing his lips.

“Please, Mas,” she whispered before planting a deliberately light kiss on his mouth. “I don’t want to be your patient tonight. I just want to be…”

He snaked his hands around the deep curve of her hips until they palmed her ass, kneading each cheek firmly.

“You just want to be what?”

She stared into the depth of his obsidian gaze and for the first time spoke the truth of what her soul felt. “Yours,” she whispered as her voice shook with emotion. “I just want to be yours.”

* * *

He felt the weight of her words against his heart. In all their time together, she’d blocked every attempt he’d made to claim her. After months of trying to break down her barriers, she was finally opening the gates of her heart to him.

“You’ve always been mine, watashi no joō.” His queen, a nickname he’d given her because of the meaning of her name. But it was true. She’d always been his queen, his heart, his everything.

“Hold on,” he whispered, and lifted them both from the couch, heading directly for the stairs. When they reached the upper landing, he walked through the open door to his room.

He'd balked against them having separate rooms when they arrived at this house hidden away by the heavily wooded mountains. But, Oshun’s doctor had insisted they needed every inch of space in her room to attend to her medical needs. After she'd shown signs of recovery, he’d waited for her to invite him back, but she never had.

He hated being away from her, but he understood discovering your lover was a sworn enemy was a great deal to process. Instead of bulldozing his way through like he normally would, he waited for her to tell him when it was time for them to be more than what necessity dictated.

He sat down on his bed, maintaining his hold on her and her position across his lap. Loving the pressure of her weight plastered against his clothed cock, he moaned in satisfaction. The truth was this moment made him love everything about her and the way her body responded to his nearness, his touch, and his need.

He pulled her crop top off, and delighted in the feel of her skin beneath his. Its rich warmth was like silk under his fingertips. Lost in the sensation of his skin against hers, he wasn’t prepared for the shock of cold that spread through him when he felt her pull away. Slightly dazed, he looked down between them, and realized his fingers had grazed her raised surgical scars.

“Do they still hurt?”

“I’m not in pain, Mas.”

He went to touch her there again and was met with the same response, a retreat she didn’t seem to want to explain. It wasn’t until her saw her wrap her arm around herself placing her closed fingers against them that he understood she didn’t want him to see the scars. She was hiding them, or more importantly, hiding herself from him.

“In Japan, when a dish is broken, we don’t focus on the fissures or the brokenness of it. Instead we fill it with a precious metal, making it useable again, and then celebrate the new creation. Without those fractures, the new creation wouldn’t have been a possibility. You were perfect before. But, these scars that remain are living proof that you cheated death and won. They are proof that you are the strongest woman I know, and that your strength is the sexiest thing about you. Don’t ever hide your strength from me, or anyone else.”

He placed a firm hand on her back and pulled her to him, rolling their bodies until they rested on their sides facing one another. His kisses started at the center of her forehead, going down the bridge of her nose until his lips met hers in a soft peck. When he tried to move on, she threaded her fingers through his hair and deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth, inviting him into her warmth, moaning in satisfaction when he finally allowed his tongue to slip beyond her lips, to let her taste him as he did the same to her.

He pulled out of her embrace, and slid down the length of her, allowing his kisses to pepper her skin as he lowered himself slowly. He avoided her attempt to deter him from his decided path, holding her wrists tightly to her sides.

This was them, the constant push and pull for control. From the first time they’d laid eyes on one another, there was always this unspoken battle to see who would decide their fate. He’d always assumed it was her way of playing hard to get. Her way of always proving she was the one in charge. But, now he saw it for what it really was, strength, the innate ability to lead, to command.

And damn if his dick didn’t stand at attention in salute of all that power.

When he reached his destination, he continued placing the barely-there kisses on her mound, pulling away playfully when she lifted her hips, chasing his touch.

“Masaki, please,” she begged as her body quivered beneath him.

“Shhh, baby. Let me help you.”

He slid a single finger down her slit, taking only a second to ghost his digit over the tip of her clit before he continued to her opening. He licked his lips, dangerously close to letting his tongue take the place of his fingers, when he found her slick and ready for him.

Unable to resist sampling her flavor, he eased two fingers inside of her as he simultaneously caressed her clit with the tip of his tongue. The way she bucked her hips in response told him he’d made the right decision. Usually he would savor the moment, torture her for as long as both of them could stand it. Tonight was different. Tonight, he wanted her to have everything she wanted and needed. Tonight, he wanted her to understand that anything she asked for was hers for the taking. He needed her to know she had his heart, and that meant he’d die to see her receive everything she required.

He moved his fingers expertly, scissoring them as he caressed her soft flesh from the inside. He increased the in and out motion of his fingers as he planted his face between her slick folds and latched on to her clit, suckling, licking. From the animalistic sounds she filled the quiet air with, he was torturing her in the best way.

He kept up his rhythm, continued his assault until he could feel her muscles tightening around his fingers, and when he knew she was at the edge of release, he replaced his tongue with his thumb, and quickly climbed until his lips were at the perfect height to devour hers.

When their lips touched, when she opened to him, taking his tongue inside and allowing them to both share the heady flavor of her lust, she splintered beneath him. Burying her nails into his shoulders as she held on through the cresting waves of her release, she cried out in ecstasy. The biting sting of her nails nearly breaking his skin coupled with the friction from her moving so desperately against him, had his balls pulling up tight in his heavy sac. He removed his fingers from her cunt, quickly shoving his sweatpants down just far enough to allow his dick to spring free. The feel of his roughened hand against the tender, throbbing flesh made him bite his lip in a strange mix of pleasure and pain.

He stroked himself, racing head first into the orgasm that was just out of his reach. She pushed his hand out of the way and replaced it with hers. He closed his eyes, let his head hang back, and gave into the electric sparks clawing at him from the inside. With the gentle scrape of her nail across the domed cap of his cockhead, his climax crashed into him. Stealing his breath, seizing control of his limbs until the last jet of cum left his tip, landing across her bottom lip.

Without an ounce of shyness, she smiled at him and eagerly licked the errant strip of cum from her lip like it was the remnants of a sweet treat. The sheer sexiness of it made his limp cock twitch with a half-assed attempt at getting hard again.

He leaned down, kissing her, loving the taste of the two of them mixed together. This was how it was supposed to be. The two of them together, one indecipherable from the other.

He struggled to catch his breath for a few moments, then left her in bed as he headed for the bathroom. He cleaned himself quickly, then returned to her with a wet washcloth to attend to her.

When he was done, Masaki sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing her hand between his and kissing the back of it gently.

“We’ve never discussed cum play before. It wasn’t my intention to…”

“We both know if I hadn’t have enjoyed it, I wouldn’t have engaged in it. No apologies.”

“I know we exchanged test results when you moved in,” he hedged. “But, I’m still clean. There was never anyone else once you and I became intimate.”

“I never doubted your fidelity, Masaki.”

“And now that you know who I am? Do you doubt me now?”

She shook her head as the high apples of her cheeks rose, gifting him with a wide grin.

“Now that I know who you are,” she began. “Now that I know I don’t have to protect you from my world, I think I’m more in love with you than I ever was.”

Her words rendered him speechless. He’d known how she felt. The fact that she always came back to him no matter how difficult things became between then was more than enough for him to understand the depth of her feelings for him. He’d known. But knowing, and hearing her say the actual words for the first time…he could’ve sworn his heart seized in his chest for just a fraction of a millisecond in response.

He planted a quick kiss on her lips before hopping into the bed next to her, gathering her in his arms and letting the comfort of her warmth soothe him.

“It’s good to know I’m not out here in these streets by myself.” She chuckled against his chest, and he squeezed her tighter. “I love you too, Oshun,” slipped from his lips just as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.