Eidolon

Warning (PG18)

This episode contains adult themes. Reader discretion recommended.

Reon’s gaze lifted from her body to her face, and he caught it; the wanting fire in her eyes, a perfect mirror of his own seething desire. He leaned back, studying her for a long, silent moment. A novel realization dawned on him. There was a rare, distinct pleasure in this; not just in commanding and claiming what was his by right of position within the Oni, but in engaging sensually with a woman who dared to demand boundaries even as she surrendered.

He wasn’t entirely convinced this complex dance was superior to the straightforward, potent thrill of using his power to force absolute submission, a pleasure he was well-acquainted with. But Rei’s intoxicating combination of revolt and surrender, of soft vulnerability and sharp provocation, was unlike any desire he had ever engaged with before.

Seeing his hesitation, a new kind of boldness seized Rei. Her body hummed, vibrating with the memory of his touch and the anticipation of what was to come. A flicker of impatience, or perhaps her own need to reclaim a sliver of agency, made her move. Her own hands drifted over her body, one settling around a nipple, pinching and rolling it, while the other slid down to circle her clit. A low, possessive growl rumbled in Reon’s chest. She was truly something else. Tempting beyond reason.

And then, another new feeling, sharp and unwelcome, pierced through him: jealousy. He had never felt the need to claim anyone for himself alone; his position granted him access to any beauty, any charm, any erotic game he desired. But watching Rei pleasure herself, listening to the soft moans escaping her lips under her own touch, the thought of Kumi came unbidden. The image of Takumi’s sakura brand at the base of her spine rose in his mind, leaving a sour, metallic taste in his mouth.

In a swift, fluid motion fueled by this sudden, possessive fury, he turned her over as if she weighed nothing. He pressed her chest and neck firmly down into the mattress, forcing her knees up and apart, arching her back and presenting her to him completely. One hand moved smoothly, slipping into her and then out, using her own wetness to slickly circle her clit, a cruel mimicry of her own touch. He took immediate satisfaction in the sound of her grateful, shuddering moans in response.

His other hand settled over the brand on her lower back, his palm covering the intricate sakura. Brows furrowing in a novel, deep-seated disapproval as he pressed down, putting direct pressure on the still-tender tattoo. Rei tensed instantly. A sharp hiss of pain escaped her, cutting through the moans of pleasure. Her body became a battleground, her sounds now an intermittent, chaotic mix of grateful surrender and pained, aching huffs, perfectly reflecting the war being waged over her body and her allegiance.

Reon’s hand snaked around the back of her neck to pull her firmly back against his body. “Do you want me to fuck you, Kitsu?” he whispered, his lips against her hair, his voice a dark caress. The sensation was overwhelming, short-circuiting her defiance. A gasp tore from her throat, followed by a moan that was pure, unadulterated want. “Yes,” she breathed, her head falling back against his shoulder, “Yes, Reon. Please fuck me.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest. Her candid, eager submission was more delicious than he had anticipated. But he let go, stepping back from the bed. Rei stumbled forward, catching herself with her hands on the mattress. She turned, her face a portrait of breathless anticipation and uncertainty, her body thrumming with unmet need.

Reon stood a few feet away, still fully dressed in the clothes she had given him. He ran a hand over his face, a gesture of rare frustration. He was battling a new, unwelcome emotion: envy. The ghost of Kumi’s grey eyes and the phantom of his cousin’s likeness seemed to be watching from the shadows of the room. His body screamed to take her, to fuck her harder and longer than any man ever had, to imprint himself upon her so thoroughly she would forget every other name. 

But her own words echoed in his mind, a poison to his desire. Her declaration during the ritual that Kumi was her ultimate source of pleasure. Her recent, painfully honest admission that she wanted to preserve the memory of Komorebi’s kiss, afraid Reon’s would overwrite it.

Even with his erection straining painfully against his trousers, even with her eager, elegant body poised before him, silently begging for his possession, the shadows of the other men lingered. They were specters that usually fueled his conquest, but now they dampened his pleasure in novel, frustrating ways.

He needed a moment, needed to figure out what he truly wanted from this fascinating, infuriating woman, beyond the obvious, primal need to fuck her brains out. The game had become more complex, and for the first time, Reon found himself unsure of his next move.

Rei watched him, her curiosity piqued. The desire in him was a palpable force, a heat she could feel from across the room, but it was tangled with something else; displeasure, a flicker of uncertainty. Was he frustrated by the restrictions she’d placed? Did he simply want her to service him, to fall to her knees and take him in her mouth? She bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit.

In truth, a treacherous part of her wanted to do just that. The power he held was a shadowy aphrodisiac, and his touch, for all its calculated cruelty, was instinctively, devastatingly effective. It wasn’t that he was more skilled than Takumi or Karasu; it was that he had his own unique rhythm, a way of reading her body’s responses that felt impossibly intuitive for a first encounter. This only heightened her internal conflict. She wanted to touch herself, to relieve the building pressure, but she feared it would be a spark to the tinder of his restrained urges.

Instead of giving in, she made a considered choice. She turned and settled gracefully onto the edge of the bed, kneeling with her ankles tucked under her, her hands resting palms-down on her thighs. It was a pose of compliance, but her posture was straight, her chin level. Rei tilted her head, her gaze patient and observant, silently awaiting his deliberations. Though she wouldn’t go back on her stated boundaries, she wouldn’t provoke him either. She would meet his power with her own unyielding graceful dignity.

Reon removed his hand from his face, as he looked up and found her seated in that elegantly docile position, the tension in his jaw eased and a low chuckle escaped him. The sight sent a complex ripple through him. The dominant streak in him reveled in the vision, she looked like a perfectly trained creature, waiting patiently for its master’s command. 

It was a tableau of absolute control that usually thrilled him. But tonight, his conflicting emotions, the sting of her rejected kiss, a strange, unwelcome trace of something resembling respect for her stubbornness, dampened the pure, simple thrill. The pleasure was there, but it was now layered, complicated. She was not just a concubine to be broken; she was a challenge, and her quiet, defiant patience was the most frustrating move she had made all evening.

He walked closer, his gaze a tangible warmth as it traveled over her body; the generous curves of her breasts, the delicate heart shape of her pubic hair, the fierce, gorgeous boldness etched on her face. The attraction he felt was a potent, almost painful thrum in his veins, stronger than anything he’d experienced in years. But more complicatedly, it was different. The simple urge to take her was suddenly overshadowed by a deeper, more perplexing need to understand the strange cocktail of emotions she provoked. He needed clarity, needed the cold, punishing discipline of the training hall, not the warm, yielding softness of her flesh.

Besides, seeing the passionate want so evident in her eyes, only to be the one to reject her, sent a mean thrill through him. He reached out, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they caressed her cheek. “Kitsu, Kitsu, Kitsu”, he began, his voice more tender than he had intended, “You really are… unusual.” He let his thumb trace the line of her jaw, “Part of me admittedly wants to grant your earlier plea and fuck you senseless. But I find the idea increasingly… lacking. It feels too immediate a pleasure, not nearly pleasing enough.” He studied her, his head tipped in genuine contemplation, “You make me question what I truly want. It’s not an entirely unpleasant line of thought… nor a pleasant one.”

Rei listened, her expression shifting like a landscape under changing skies. First, there was eager anticipation, then a flicker of keen disappointment, and finally, a dawning, genuine interest. She was intellectually captivated, drawn into the labyrinth of his emotions, and strangely grateful that he was sharing this exposed introspection with her. Her work on Eidolon had forced her to constantly ponder the intricate nature of human desire, and now Reon offered an unfiltered glimpse into his own.

Her entire posture transformed. The expectant readiness for a physical union melted away. She gracefully slid from the balls of her feet, settling into a relaxed mermaid pose on the mattress. Her face softened into an expression of deep, attentive curiosity, her head angled in a silent, open invitation for him to elaborate. She looked less like a lover awaiting a command and more like a patient therapist, fully present and listening.

Reon was taken aback. He had expected disappointment, anticipated her trying to change his mind, perhaps by touching herself again or by desperately retracting her boundaries and offering him a different kind of pleasure. He had not expected this serene acceptance. Her silent, focused attention was more disarming than any seduction could have been. In the quiet of the room, with the moon casting its silver light through the vast window, the dynamic had subtly, irrevocably, shifted.

Reon hesitated, a powerful surge of desire urging him to push her back onto the bed and simply take what he wanted. But again, the spectral silhouettes of Karasu and Kumi seemed to flicker at the edges of his vision, a ghostly council of restraint. He let out a sharp, frustrated sigh. “I need to clear my energy and my head,” he declared, his voice tight, “I’ll shower and then I’m going to train.” He gestured vaguely toward the hallway, “Clean up the kitchen, Kitsu, and dress in one of the kimonos from my closet.” His gaze swept over her discarded, patterned clothes with disdain, “I never want to see you in those clothes again.”

He was already moving, unbuttoning the embroidered linen shirt she had given him and pulling it off as he walked. At the doorway, he turned back to her. Rei was still sitting on the bed, a mix of confusion and weary acceptance on her face. He stripped off the pants as well, standing in just his underwear, his erection still visibly straining against the fabric.

Rei’s eyes followed the motion, and she unconsciously bit her bottom lip. He caught the gesture, and a fresh tug of want threatened his control. He hurriedly turned away. “Meet me in the ceremonial hall when you are done,” he called over his shoulder, already several steps down the hall, leaving her alone.