*WARNING*
π ... S E L E C T ...
...Eiji...
The moment our lips met, the world collapsed into us. I could feel the rapid thrum of his pulse under my fingers, the slight quiver of his body pressed against mine. His lips—soft, warm, fluttering—melted into mine, and I traced every curve, every ridge, with deliberate hunger. Not just a kiss. A claim. A confession.
I suckled his lower lip gently, coaxing him to open, tasting the sweetness of his breath, the heat of his desire. My tongue brushed his, soft and probing, pulling his own tongue into mine, letting it slide, letting it mingle, letting it imprint him onto me. Each shiver he gave me was a thread I wove into my own blood.
I tangled my fingers into his hair, holding him still even as his hands roamed over my chest, over my back, desperate, seeking. The way he trembled made me tighten my grip—not to restrain, but to anchor him, to let him know I could hold him even when the fire inside him threatened to burn us both.
...Ryota...
I was on fire, and I didn’t care. His lips were mine to devour, and I met every inch of his with equal ferocity. My hands tangled in his hair, tugging, pulling him closer, desperate for the feel of him, the taste of him, the burn of him against my skin. I wanted every piece of him. I needed him.
Every kiss was raw, desperate, carrying every word I couldn’t speak. Every shudder, every broken inhale was a promise. I ground myself into him, needing the contact, needing the warmth, needing to know he was mine—completely, irrevocably.
...Eiji...
When we broke apart to breathe, it was only barely enough. Foreheads pressed together, breaths mingled, hearts hammering in unison. I traced his cheek with my thumb, memorizing the slight sheen of sweat, the faint pink of his lips, the warmth of his skin. “Ryota,” I whispered, low and rough, “ You’re mine. Always.”
He shivered at the words, and I felt the tremor of vulnerability, the raw honesty beneath his fire. My hands moved lower, along his spine, to hold him close, to press him into me. I wanted him to feel safe, even in the midst of the storm he brought with him.
...Ryota...
I pressed myself into him, letting go of control, letting him hold me, let him feel me, let him consume me as I consumed him. My lips found his again, slower this time, tasting, memorizing, claiming. No words could convey what burned inside me—only this, only him, only us.
...Eiji...
I buried him into me, every kiss, every touch, every tremor, every gasp a vow. My lips moved over his, tasting, claiming, holding. My hands held him as if letting go would erase him from my life. And I knew, in this moment, nothing else existed. Nothing outside our room, outside our breaths, outside the fire we had ignited together.
...Ryota...
I let myself sink into him, into us. I could feel his heartbeat steadying mine, could feel the calm in his chaos, and yet the fire between us still roared. I kissed him slow, deep, tasting him, marking him, letting him know every piece of me was his. I was home.
And they knew, in that first night, every part of them—the fire, the chaos, the vulnerability, the love—belonged to each other. And they would hold forever, in every breath, in every pulse, in every trembling heartbeat.
Epilogue..."Did I... push too far last night?"
"Don't worry... I won't get pregnant."
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