Warning! (PG18)

This episode contains adult themes of a sexual nature. Reader discretion recommended.

Possessive Satisfaction

“Kelly,” Takumi said, leaning back and turning to look through the open petition, “Roll down the divider, mute the cabin and don’t disturb us until I give word”. Cillian shot Rei a brief glance, something close to pity washing over his face before he obeyed with a, “Yes Executive Takumi”.

The soft thump of the partition sealed, and the world outside ceased to exist. They were alone in a moving cavern. Takumi’s face, which had been analytical, now turned proprietorial. He looked at her, at the exquisite kimono, the traditional makeup, the entire defiant presentation she had crafted from Karasu’s universe. His eyes were dissecting her.

“Undress,” he said. His voice was calm, offering no reason. It was a command from a new owner inspecting his acquisition. A cold thrill shot down Rei’s spine, part fear, part unwelcome excitement. This was it, the first test of her new reality. Her plan, half-formed and desperate, flickered in her mind: Let him want. Let him ache. Then, when he’s on the edge, deny him. She held his gaze, her own a mask of cool resolve.

Carefully she untied the obi, the heavy cord slipping into her lap. She shrugged the kimono from her shoulders. The embroidered fox seemed to snarl one last time before the fabric pooled around her waist, falling to the seat beside her, a pond of grey and shiny threads. She was left in the simple black silk slip and visible beneath it, the transparent red lace he had seen a glimpse of earlier.

Takumi watched intently, his breathing a fraction deeper. On the surface he was the picture of control, but the subtle signs were there. The slight tightening of his lips. The intensity of his focus. Emboldened, Rei let her hands drift to the thin straps of the slip. She began to slide them down her shoulders, the movements a sensual unveiling.

When Takumi leaned slightly forward, as if to get a better look, she paused. Rei smiled brazenly, as she grabbed a hold of the bottom of her slip and pulled it over her head instead, arching her back, her pull sultrily unhurried. After dropping the slip on the floor close to his shoes, she sat before him in only the red see-through underwear, which did little to conceal anything.

He placed his hands on his knees but didn’t move closer, didn’t tell her to stop. First, she opened the bra and let it fall, her breasts bouncing down and up in a soft curve. Takumi swallowed. Then she stood on slightly unsteady legs in the moving vehicle, her fingers hooking into the waistband of the delicate red panties. She started to peel them down her thighs, the air cold against her newly bared skin.

He savored the sight, his grey eyes dusky, but still impossibly contained. Her pubic hair was shaved in the shape of a heart, a detail meant for Karasu. Takumi’s fingers twitched on his right hand, as he studied all of her. Rei let the panties slide down and stepped out of them, leaving the scrap of fabric on the floor, a tiny flag of forfeit.

Then Takumi moved, not with passion, but with purpose. He crossed to her side of the limousine seats, his movements fluid and economical. They sat close, but he didn’t touch her, simply stayed near enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Lie back,” he instructed, his voice low. Something in his tone made it clear disobedience was not an option.

Without hesitating, she sloped back against the cool leather, her heart pounding. His hands, when they finally touched her, were exact. His fingers traced the line of her hip, the curve of her waist, the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Every touch was light, teasing, a craftsman assessing his material. It was maddening. Her body responded traitorously, a heat simmering beneath her skin, a tremble in her legs that she didn’t try to hide. She wanted him to see it, to be driven mad by it.

His eyes watched her reactions, noting every flutter of her eyelids, every hitched breath. They were darker than she had ever seen them, stormy with a leashed hunger. But his touch remained infuriatingly contained.

Unexpectedly he leaned back, removing his blazer, folding it with fastidious care and placing it on the seat opposite. He unbuttoned his vest, adding it to the pile. Then he began on his cufflinks, removing them and placing them in his vest pocket before rolling up his sleeves to his elbows with slow, deliberate turns. The motion was clinical, like a mechanic preparing for a job. The impersonal professionalism of it was a strange contrast to the intimacy of his caresses.

Rei’s excitement curdled into something sharper, laced with genuine alarm. She cautiously straightened, sliding away from him toward the corner of the wide seat, putting some precious space between them. Takumi smiled, an enigmatic curve of his lips that was neither kind nor cruel, “Where are you going?”, his tone deceptively mild, “Don’t you enjoy the way I touch you?”

Rei forced a light, humorless laugh, the sound strained. “I do,” she admitted, her voice breathier than she wanted, “It’s just… you don’t look like a man about to give in to pleasure. You look like you’re either going to bake a cake, build a table…”, she let her gaze drift pointedly over his rolled sleeves, his focused expression, “…or interrogate someone.”

He laughed, a genuine, low sound that seemed to surprise even him. Without explaining further, he reached out, his hand not touching her, but resting palm-up on the seat between them, a silent command. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, the words velvet-wrapped, “Take my hand.”

It was a stalemate. He, the picture of relaxed authority, his hand open. She, coiled in the corner, her body thrumming with fear and a desperate, defiant desire. Her mind warred with terrifying curiosity.

For a long while, no one moved, no one spoke. The only sound was the whisper of the limousine gliding through the morning streets of the city. Rei held her breath, her black eyes locked with his stormy ones, testing the limits of her new contract, and the power she might still wield within it.

Rei’s heart was a frantic bird trapped inside her chest. His open hand lay between them, a promise and a test. Defiance conflicted with pulsing interest. Gradually, her fingers uncurled from the cool leather seat. She placed her hand in his. His grip was firm, but not harsh. He didn’t pull her back to the center of the seat with force. Instead, he used the gentle pressure of his hand to guide her, until she was lying back, exposed and vulnerable on the vast expanse of leather. His eyes never left her face, reading the suspicion and the reluctant arousal warring in her expression.

“Thank you, Rei,” he murmured, his voice a low hum that vibrated through the charged air. Then his examination began in earnest. But it was not the interrogation she had feared. It was something far more unnerving. His touch was not that of a conqueror, but of a connoisseur. His fingers traced the shell of her ear, the sensitive column of her throat, the delicate dip of her collarbones. He was mapping her, watching her face intently, his grey eyes noting the way her breath responded when his thumb brushed a particular spot just below her ear, the way her lips parted in a silent gasp when his fingers ghosted over the inside of her elbow. He was learning her, not just her body but her responses, studying the unique currently un-programmable language of her attraction to him.

His gentleness was a weapon. The initial tension in Rei’s shoulders began to melt away, replaced by a warm, heavy languor that was far more dangerous. Her suspicion was being systematically dismantled by the sheer, overwhelming skill of his touch. He found places she didn’t know were erogenous, coaxing shivers and soft moans from her with the barest of contact.

When his mouth finally descended, it was not to her lips, but to her breast. His tongue circled her nipple with agonizing slowness before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently. A sharp jolt of pleasure shot straight to her core. Her back arched off the seat, a ragged moan torn from her throat. She was close, so much closer than she wanted to be, the pleasure coiling tight and hot inside her.

Through the haze, she saw him. His composure was a tour de force, but it was cracking rapidly. His breathing had intensified, his chest rising and falling visibly beneath his crisp white shirt. The fabric of his suit pants strained over an obvious, hard bulge. The sight sent a fresh wave of heat through her. She wanted to touch him, to feel that evidence of his desire, to shatter his control.

Her hand drifted from the seat towards him. Her fingers were inches from the warm wool of his trousers when his own hand shot out, capturing her wrist with startling speed. His grip was firm. “No,” he said, his voice a husky command. He didn’t look angry, but intensely focused, his eyes dark with a hunger he was visibly mastering. He guided her hand upwards, wrapping her fingers around a polished chrome handle set into the doorframe, “Hold on to this. Don’t let go until I say so.” It was an order leaving no room for argument.

A flicker of her defiance sparked, but it was doused by another expert flick of his tongue that made her cry out. Rei’s fingers tightened around the cool metal, knuckles white. He returned his attention to her body with a devastating focus, his mouth and hands working in a synchronized assault on her senses. Later, as the waves of pleasure built to a crescendo, she tried again, placing her foot on his knee, sliding her foot down his thigh in an instinctive caress.

He caught her ankle just as easily, his gaze snapping to hers. Annoyance and stark amusement in his expression, “I said no Rei,” he breathed, his voice thick with his own unsated desire. He released her ankle, and his hand returned to her, his touch now more direct, more demanding.

One hand worked between her legs, his fingers moving with an expert, intimate knowledge of rhythm and pressure, that he had learned from her body mere minutes earlier. The other hand teased her nipple, his thumb circling the peak in time with the thrust of his fingers. It was an impossible, overwhelming combination of sensations, a loop of pleasure that short-circuited her thoughts.

Rei’s legs began to tremble uncontrollably. Takumi lifting his mouth from her breast, smiling as he hummed, “Let go now, come for me Rei”. She looked down, wanting to defy him despite her pleasure. He saw it, smiled, lowered his mouth and wrapped it around her nipple in wet heat; and then he softly bit down. Her grip on the handle failed as her entire body convulsed. A scream, sharp and shaky, ripped from her lungs as she shattered, the climax crashing over her in relentless, escalating waves that left her boneless and gasping.

She lay spent, the world a blur of sensation and the sound of her own ragged breaths. Takumi slowly withdrew his mouth and hands. He was breathing heavily himself, his hair slightly disheveled, a faint sheen of sweat on his temple. His control had held, but it had cost him. He looked down at her, his expression one of intense, possessive satisfaction.

He had given her everything she needed; and given almost nothing of himself. And in doing so, he had demonstrated a power far greater than simple physical possession. He had proven he could orchestrate her pleasure, her surrender, with the detached precision of a maestro, all while denying his own need.