Consequences

The door to the apartment clicked shut behind Rei. She leaned against it, a shaky exhale escaping her lips, before a triumphant smile spread across her face. He’d been furious, been jealous. But he hadn’t pushed her away, he’d drawn a line, yes, but he’d drawn it around her, pulling her back into his orbit with a command that was as much a claim as a punishment. Wear nothing. It wasn’t a rejection; it was a reassertion of ownership, a demand for intimacy on his terms, a way to wash away the trace of Takumi’s touch with his own. Her heart wasn’t just soaring; it was raging with an exhilarated rhythm. Karasu cared enough to be rattled, to want to assert her as his again after she’d provoked him. The dangerous game with Takumi had been about power and survival. This, with Karasu, was about something far more essential: connection.

She walked to the bedroom, her fingers already going to the clasp of her dress. Letting the fabric fall, she soon standing naked in the middle of the room. The cool air raised goosebumps on her skin, but a different kind of heat was building within her; anticipation and a thrilling sense of belonging.

Rei didn’t just obey; she performed. She moved around the small kitchen, preparing the ingredients for one of his favorite meals, her bare skin hyper-aware of every sensation. The cool tile under her feet, the brush of her own hair against her shoulders. It was a hushed, sensual offering, a way to show him that her submission was not born of fear, but of choice, of loving surrender.

When she heard the apartment door open and close, followed by the heavy tread of his dress shoes, she didn’t turn around. Rei kept her focus on the sizzling pan, the scent of garlic and chili oil filling the air. She felt him stop in the doorway to the kitchen, felt the weight of his gaze sweep over her.

The silence extended, charged and heavy. Then, the sound of his footsteps again, closer this time. He came up behind her, his body not touching hers, but the heat of him was a brand. His hands came down on the counter on either side of her, caging her in. “The report,” he said, his voice a low rumble directly behind her ear, “was reckless.” Rei kept stirring the vegetables, her hand almost steady, “I know.”

“You taunted me.”

“I did.”

One of his hands left the counter. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down the length of her spine. She shivered, her eyes fluttering closed for a second. “And you think,” he continued, his breath warm against her neck, “that acting sorry and cooking me dinner erases that?” She leaned back slightly into his touch. “No,” she breathed out, “but I think it reminds you why you put up with me.”

A low sound, almost a growl, vibrated in his chest. His hand slid around her hip, pulling her back firmly against him. She could feel the hard line of his body, the proof that his anger and his desire were inextricably linked.

“The consequences,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, “start now.” He took the spatula from her hand and turned off the stove and swirled her around to face him. All Rei could feel in that moment was his hands on her hips and the concentrated fire in his blue eyes. Dinner could wait. For now, there was only this: the all-consuming reality of being his.

The air in the kitchen was filled with the scent of spices and unspoken intent. Karasu’s grip on her hips was unyielding, his gaze holding her captive. The promise of punishment in his eyes was not one of cruelty, but of reclamation. It was a language they both understood. He didn’t lead her to the bedroom. Instead, he guided her back against the metallic surface of the refrigerator, the shock of the cold against her bare skin made her gasp. He held her there, pinning her with his body, his eyes roaming over her nakedness with a craving that made her inhale forcefully.

“Reckless,” he repeated, the word a low growl. His hand came up to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking the top of her throat, “You played with fire tonight, little fox. You taunted a beast, and then you came home and teased another. Did you want punishment?” His words were harsh, but his touch was not. It was deliberate, intense, focused. This was his penalty: not to hurt her, but to overwhelm her. To remind every inch of her skin, every nerve ending, exactly who it belonged to.

He kissed her then, but it wasn’t the tender kiss from the weekend. This was consuming, all tongue and teeth. It was a kiss designed to erase the memory of any other man’s attention, to brand her with his own. Rei melted into it, her hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders, her own response just as fierce. She welcomed the assault on her senses, the brutal proof of his jealousy and his desire. When he broke the kiss, both of them were breathing heavily. “Remember Rei – you are mine,” he stated, his voice rough with emotion, “Every sigh, every gasp, every thought of desire you have… it belongs to me. You do not offer it to others to provoke me.”

“I’m sorry, Karasu” she whispered, the apology genuine.

“Sorry isn’t enough,” he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin over her collarbone. His hands slid down her body, drawing her curves with devotion that belied his harsh words. This was the worship she had spoken to Takumi about; the kind that came from a place of absolute, abiding mutual passion.

He sank to his knees before her, his hands sliding down to her thighs, urging them apart. He looked up at her, his blue eyes dark with purpose. “This is the consequence – you will stand here,” he said, his voice a low vibration that went straight to her core, “You will not move. You will not make a sound. You will not come. You will take every bit of pleasure I decide to give you, and you will remember who is giving it to you.”

And then his mouth was on her and every thought, every worry, every memory of the Kuroda Plaza vanished from her mind. His penance was exquisite torture. He was a master of her body, knowing exactly how to touch her, to taste her, to bring her to the very edge of oblivion and hold her there, suspended in an agony of pleasure. He was relentless, his tongue and fingers working in waves of perfect pace that had her trembling, her knees threatening to buckle. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, her fingers scrabbling against the smooth metal of the refrigerator for purchase.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, when a sob was building in her throat, he pulled away. He rose to his full height, his own breathing ragged, his eyes glazed with a primal hunger. He lifted her up, pressing her back against the fridge door, causing it to collide with the wall behind. His hands roamed her buttocks, her hips, before settling securely under her thighs.

“Now you can make noise” he declared, his voice thick with need as he entered her in a brutal thrust. A broken cry was torn from her lips as he filled her, setting a demanding, possessive rhythm. He was stamping his ownership on her very soul. Each thrust was a reminder, a punishment, and a forgiveness all in one. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place, ensuring she took all of him. He leaned onto her, his chest pressed against her, his mouth near her ear.

“Who do you belong to?” he growled, his voice raw.

“You!” she cried out, the word a desperate, “Karasu”

“Again.”

“You! Only you!”

His pace became even more frantic. He drove them both over the edge together, her climax triggering his own, a wave of sensation so intense it felt like being unmade and remade in his image. They collapsed against the refrigerator, his body weight pressing her into the smooth metal, both gasping for air. For a time, they stayed like that, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her up. The only sound was their ragged breathing slowly returning to normal.

Finally, he stirred, pulling out of her. His expression was no longer angry, but stark, open, and filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache. He brushed a strand of hair from her damp forehead. “The next time you feel the need to test my affection,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, “you come to me. Not him. You use your words with me, not your body with him. Understood?”

Rei nodded, her eyes swimming with unshed tears of relief and love, “Yes Karasu, I promise.” He kissed her forehead, a gesture so gentle it was almost shocking after the intensity of their coupling. “Now,” he said, his tone shifting back towards the practical, though his hand remained on her cheek, “Finish cooking me dinner. I’m starving.” The retribution was over. The balance was restored. She was his, and he had made sure she would never forget it.