[pealambs]

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[pealambs]

send me requests through "love letters" in my pinned i wanna write i miss higuruma

[pealambs]

litany of the lamb

chapter four: fevered law ᭡୧ higuruma offers lessons in restraint in exchange for reader's confessions

he was standing in the doorway of your shared office. a fresh box of mevius and a silver ignition lighter in one hand. and then you were in front of him, saliva-soaked tie between your teeth, spit running down your chin. and as he looked down, the gap between your thighs was wide enough just to see your folds hugging his fountain pen tightly. you couldn't help but clench around nothing and suddenly, you felt emptier than ever. you opened your mouth and his tie dropped, plum breasts catching it before you could speak.

"i tried to tell myself," he began to walk towards you, "that a man of my standing, of my... disposition," he reached his desk, setting down the box of cigarettes and his lighter, following with a metallic thud that vibrated through the floorboards. you got goosebumps from how he was towering over you now. "had no business entertaining the ramblings of a self-proclaimed sinner. but i didn't want to fool myself." he lifted his index finger and guided your legs to open wide, barely touching you, really. "you're sitting in my place, biting on my tie and using my instruments to find the pleasure i denied you for seventy-two hours. you're really desperate for me." you gulped at the way he spelled that.

fingers trembling with excitement and you were sure you just soaked his seat as you felt your wetness slowly drip down between your cheeks. you clenched again. then, he reached down slowly, carefully so that he didn't touch you. fingers wrapped around his pen and he held it steady. he didn't move, anchoring you down, anchoring you to him.

"please–," you faintly whispered, his voice like a spell on you. you wanted to grind your hips, wanted to hold onto his tie and intertwine with his lips but somehow he'd got you frozen in place.

"eat you down to your marrow, right? do you have any idea what that kind of hunger did to a man who had spent his life starving himself for the sake of order?" he slowly ground his pen against you, causing a loud and clear whine of relief. he's deliberately slow. "you've turned our office into a confessional." he said, his voice dropping so low it felt like a physical weight on your chest. "so let's hear the confession in full." his left hand hugged your hip, fingers digging into your skin with a strength that promised bruises of similar colors to the orchids you sent him. he let go of the pen, simply letting it fall to the side, to your thigh, and he lowered to his knees. you gasped out of excitement, almost vibrating for him to touch you again. he pressed a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee. you buckled your hips up, desperately searching for more.

"if you keep begging, i'll stop. learn to be satisfied with what you get. relish it." he purred as he kissed up your thighs. you whined, almost painfully. you closed your eyes and let yourself flow with him, but how could you when every inch of your body was longing for more of him?

he was dangerously close to your heat now, and you felt almost out of breath as his hands slid under your thighs and shifted you forward in your seat. he spread your legs wider, and your lips spread too, with a vulgar squelch. he purred against your thigh before he allowed his mouth to open, releasing a heavy trail of his saliva to drop against your lips. you flinched at the sudden sensation there and tried not to roll your hips. you could feel it drip downward, pooling with your liquids under you on the leather seat. heavy-lidded eyes analysed your face. he reached for his tie that still rested on your breasts, stuffing it back into your mouth, and you felt your eyes roll back while groaning into the fabric.

"little plaything," he purred, visibly enjoying your suffering. "touch yourself. show me how you like to be touched." he demanded with a tone so gentle, you could melt. his mouth was just inches away from your heat, maintaining heavy eye contact. you reached down and slowly started to pleasure yourself. eye contact remained. the sound of your wet rhythm filled the silence.

he parted his lips and blew a long, slow stream of air against your pulsing, begging core. you whimpered, your hips jerking forward as his breath played over you. he blew again, slower this time, trailing the breath upward, forcing you to arch your back as the contrast between the air and your own fevered touch became almost too much to bear. every time your fingers brushed against the sensitive, weeping folds of your skin, it became slower, leaving space for him to consider replacing your fingers. "you're not stopping, are you, honey?" he shifted, his hands coming up to grip your knees, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh there, anchoring you firmly in his space. he saw you fraying, your breath hitching against his tie, thighs trembling, and he finally rewarded your efforts. he closed the painful distance between you and with a flat tongue he traced the delicate, aching length of your sweet cunt, licking you up.

you spat his tie out just to chant thank yous between soft whines, almost crying from pleasure. soon enough, drool was dripping down at the side of your mouth and he smiled against your cunt. "you look angelic." he said before giving more attention to your clit, circling his tongue. the way you were clenching around nothing became painful and as if he could feel it, he dragged his tongue down to your little rim, his nose buckling your hole, tipping you over the edge. and then just a little arch, a little grinding, and you were already cumming all over his face. he encouragingly growled against you, vibrations making your high even sweeter as he let you ride it all out.

when he leaned back, he carefully fixed his tie. it made you want it all over again. then he did not pull away. instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean, white handkerchief. with care that felt more intimate than the act itself, he began to wipe your chin and then remnants of your pleasure from your skin. just after that, he wiped his own face as well. "you have committed a crime against my peace of mind," he stated and looked up at you then, and you found it hard to read his expression. "but i find i have no interest in prosecution. you did well, sweets." he began to fix you up as best as he could, starting with your clothes and then gently brushing your hair with his fingers. then, he held out both of his hands. "come on. up."

[pealambs]

litany of the lamb

chapter three: altar of the absent ᭡୧ worshipping at an empty desk until higuruma returns to claim his tithe

monday evening he left and never returned. tuesday was a question, wednesday a fever. the shepherd had abandoned his flock, leaving you to your own. higuruma's presence had always been heavy and structured. when he left, it felt like he had taken the air out of the room with him. breathing became hard, every inch of your body aching and pulsing for him. you were burning, you thought, tipped too close to the hearth.

thursday evening, a click of the lock was how you ended up sinking into his chair in the office, the leather groaning under your weight as a welcome and a reminder of the filth you were about to experience.

he was everywhere. fingertips on the desk, undone files and notes structurally scattered across. his fountain pen that you missed hearing the scratching sound of. you took it in your hands and analysed it thoroughly, like it was treasure. you kept it in one hand as you leaned back against the headrest and pulled your knees up. your skirt rode up high, your panties visible from the gap between your thighs as you pressed your knees together. you leaned to the side a bit to reach the top left drawer of his desk searching for some more treasure. it was locked. you bent a bit, tried your luck with the second drawer: bullseye! some pens, some paper, clear report covers and oh? a familiar dark forest green tie was neatly folded up. bullseye again!

you immediately lifted it from the drawer right up to your nose and breathed in: it felt like nicotine for a smoker. you bit on it and threw the longer part of the tie behind your shoulder. a tiny part of the pain subsided; now you were somewhat satisfied. you hummed behind the color of his tie, gripping onto his fountain pen. it was vertiginous: having so much of him, more than ever. yet you still felt undying hunger for him.

fingers of your free hand were now caressing the armrest where his hands usually gripped. as you tipped your head back, you could feel a trace of his scent, making you groan in pleasure. fondly holding onto the pen, you were slowly tracing the veins down your thighs, slipping it between your petals and the cold metal touching the pollinia of your orchid made your hip grind forward involuntarily. and then up, and down. up and down, up and down. you were already sinfully wet. for i am a sinner.

when that got boring, you bit harder on the tie to muffle your sounds and in the meantime, used the end of his pen to push your panties to the side. you were caressing your plush sweetness, now without that cruel fabric between you and him. your eyes were closed; your moans were getting more desperate and animalistic even. your shepherd had left you, poor little lamb. what were you to do if not exactly this? your cunt was fluttering now, eager.

"eager one, aren't you?"

his voice was like melody to your ears. you hummed in response as the most logical explanation for the situation was that you were simply imagining your darling's voice in your head. after all, he had left you so unexpectedly, it could have been a symptom of withdrawal. except it wasn't.

[pealambs]

litany of the lamb

chapter two: unanswered prayers ᭡୧ a note for a note — higuruma's missing your letters

returning to the room, you froze when you saw him again. air carried the weight of unanswered prayers and uncertainty. his voice was still gentle as he talked to your colleagues, his posture still strict and eyes still haunting. you were playing with fire here but oh, didn't the ice in your marrow just liquefy on a winter night in front of the hearth? when you were truly frozen, heat didn't just feel warm, it stung. it kept you on your feet, aware and awake. what if, for once, you wanted to let the fire bring back the blood to your numb fingers?

he did not say a word. in fact, it felt like he was rushing home earlier than usual. you were left alone in the shared office, lights above flickering just like the unsteady pulse in your heart did, and the hallway seemed to slowly empty out as well. your gaze was then stuck on that drawer, contemplating if you should open it, take a peek. not to see if it was fixed but whether your little souvenir for him was lost or not. you gave in to your urges: with the tip of an index finger, you slowly pulled out the drawer.

the ride home was unbearably slow. you allowed yourself to be absentminded until you could finally drown in the moonlight that danced around on your bedsheets. that was when you let your mind unravel. your panties were in fact missing and now you were stuck imagining him imagining you, panties wrapped around the velvety walls of his length, stretching and pulling the fabric just right. or maybe he would have had it in his left hand, held up to his face, drowning in you.

but not all flowers rushed to bloom; maybe he stuck them in his black leather briefcase that now sat on top of the countertop in his kitchen and even in that second he was contemplating. maybe he was trying to go against his instincts. maybe he was getting more drained every second from resisting. or it could be in a ziplock bag, ready to be evidence for violations. oh, the excitement from all of those options shot through your blood vessels like arrows.

monday morning's sun was warm and kind to your skin. the weekend had felt like you were on ecstasy. by the time you were sitting in your office chair again, you felt like throwing up and it felt euphoric. like you were on the edge. great—nothing happened until he slipped a flood of documents on your desk with a hum and a nod. you smiled teeth-rotting sweetly at him. you were flipping through the pages until one of the documents was found to have a light pink note stuck to the right top corner.

"𝒮ing, little bird. i miss your letters"

oh, he had fucked your panties, for sure. he was just the type. in mere seconds, you were shifting in your seat, your underwear feeling too tight to bear. was it really a sin? your lives ran in parallel, and now your lust grew harsher. it was sinful and it turned you on oh so much. this time, you pulled a fresh sheet of high-grade cotton from your bag and your favorite pen to trace the shape of your surrender. you were imagining his hands — the ones that held the law so firmly — holding onto your letter. his face unchanged.

"ℳellifluous voice of yours that i miss dearly. my confession is not over but you're almost translucent to me now. what's left is to ask how do you love? would you split me open by the sternum to place yourself inside me, my soul? seal me up with sternotomy wires so you never inhabit another? handle me delicately when you do, frightful shepherd."

[pealambs]

litany of the lamb

chapter one: linen & lace ᭡୧ higuruma receives love letters — a trail to the sender, paved in honey-dipped clues & orchid hues

"𝒟evour me blasphemously, i am keen with confessions, for i am a sinner. you are slow with observation yet i am pleasured. i feed on the thought of your soul woven together with my rotting heart. you wrap your name tight around my ribs, keeping me warm. i was born for you, therefore eat me down to my marrow, consume all there is left of me, allow me to melt into you and flow through your veins." a blush-pink dried orchid—a souvenir carefully sealed between the folds of linen paper. cursive letters were humbly aligned, the calligraphy so pleasing to look at. for a mere second, he thought of filling a smaller canvas with the letters, framing it as artwork. then he shook his head, the words slowly settling in. that was the third letter he had received, carefully placed in a pink envelope as if it weren't the filthy confession of a woman at his workplace. ever since opening the first letter, he had been particularly fond of trying to find the owner of the handwriting. he carefully inspected every single note on the case files and the wallboards, the little notes on lunch boxes and milk cartons in the fridge. they were all different, for sure. did any of them match the sinner’s handwriting? not at all. it was critical. when the city slowly drowned into sleep, he floated above it, as if trying to solve a puzzle that didn't even exist. your love letters tormented him; he stayed awake while a cold breeze flowed into the bedroom from an open window, the duvets lying beside him too lonely and helpless. on the other hand, your words flattered him. conflicted emotions racked him; helplessness pained him. he had been overworked before, but then he was slowly, cruelly losing the ability to manage himself with the heavy burden of mystery on his shoulders. friday morning’s sunrise caught his eyes faster than sleep did. with a loud sigh, he worked himself out of bed. he let last night’s empty wine glass stay lonely on his nightstand. at work, he focused on the case files laid out in front of him. the smell of wood pulp and faint chemicals, mixed with his cologne, filled the air around him. you couldn't help but coo to yourself at his drained face. you were glad to share an office with him, glad to have the opportunity to enjoy him in so many different ways. the way his tiny sounds filled the silent room. his cologne and his sweat caught your nose as if it were bait for something to chase—to hunt him down, and then become his prey. to dive into him like water on a summer afternoon, naked and raw. you enjoyed the weight you put on him, even if it was cruel. so, you decided to play. of course, you didn't leave your dark leather journal on your desk on purpose. it just happened to be open to a page where you had drawn orchids and written your favorite poetry. you wouldn’t have done such things with your sacred personal possessions. oh, and you also didn't ask him to tighten the screws in your pine-wood desk drawer where you—again, not purposefully—left one of your sweetest pair of panties. a souvenir? a thank you? he hovered over your desk, analyzing your decor for a second before his eyes landed on that journal. the handwriting. he fed on what you allowed him to feed on, and oh, he was hungry. his fingers trembled slightly as he flipped through the previous few pages, trying to keep his composure. he quickly closed the journal and shut his eyes for a second, focusing on his breathing. then, he knelt down to the drawer, opening it to inspect those screws you were talking about. he needed a distraction. oh? baby pink lace caught his gaze and he swallowed hard. was it you who had his name wrapped around your ribs or was it the other way around?

[pealambs]

                        pealamb's library! 

¹hiromi higuruma ℘  having a kitty too sensitive pt1 ℘ couldn't you make it sound weirder? pt2

℘  litany of the lamb chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four

[pealambs]

"can i claim you? couldn't you make it sound weirder?" pt1

you let the words out again, a low murmur to the empty room, testing them for the poison you had not sensed the night before; the syllables were sour on your tongue. your brow knit in a phantom confusion before your features tightened, pulling into a sharp, jagged wince. a sigh left your lips as you were preparing a bath for yourself. higuruma had been on the couch, half asleep, only in his slacks and unbuttoned shirt. you woke before him, finding yourself still in your blouse and ripped pantyhose, his grip heavy around your waist even in his sleep.

the second you sunk into the hot water filled with fluffy bubbles, he peeked into the bathroom with tired eyes and a lazy smile. "good morning, doll."

peony glow blossomed across your cheekbones hearing the pet name – your favorite one – and you sunk a little deeper in the water, looking down at the foam with an impish smile. he took a few steps and stopped right in front of the bathtub. he crouched down on one knee and rested his elbows on the porcelain, his hands dangling inches from the surface of the water. "slept fine?"

"really fine. i– i kind of passed out." breathless laughter left your lips, still too shy to look into his eyes.

"yeah you did. right after asking me out," he reminded you. you ducked your head to the side to face the wall, hair falling just right to act as a curtain. your cheeks felt as if a candle were lit beneath them. "what, doll? too star-struck, hm?"

"hiromi..." you flicked a shimmering veil of water at his face, still too coy to face him.

"hey." his hand reached out to cup your face and gently rubbed then pinched your cheek before firmly guiding your head back toward him. "you were sweet. you are, hm?" he planted a kiss on your forehead before laying his head on his left arm, looking up at your face with heart shaped pupils almost.

"i really like you," you murmured, leaning a bit closer to the edge of the tub, closer to his face.

"i like you." surprisingly, his words turned something around in your lower belly, making you faintly bite down on your bottom lip before giving in and letting yourself feel his lips connecting with yours. he was kissing back hungrily, oh so hungry.

you lifted yourself to your knees, plump and wet breasts revealed from hiding under the bubbles and you were now cupping his face, pulling him up to your height and of course, closer. his chest pressed against yours, your warmth making him groan into your mouth as his hands hugged your slick, soapy waist. you hurried him to stand up fully, before setting your eyes on the heavy, insistent ache visible beneath the fabric of his slacks. shaky hands reached to unbutton them.

"eager, huh?" pinkish hues were still wandering around on your face, and his question didn't help much. one hand grabbed the nape of your neck and then with the other he curled his fingers around his own length, a blunt and certain hold. "don't have to be. all yours." his grip shifted from the back of your neck to the front. his thumb pressed, kind of pulsing against a certain point on your throat. "i want it all the way down here. can you do that f'me darling?" you knew he was already fucked out too from the way he slurred his words. your eyes widened, still you couldn't help but desperately nod. hell, you could have been already foaming at the mouth by that point. you licked your lips and parted them to welcome him inside your mouth. tiny tongue slipped out and he didn't hesitate to slap on it twice or thrice with his cock. you were involuntarily opening your thighs wider as he slowly pushed it past your lips, proudly stuffing your face. you set a slow rhythm, carefully tasting him on your tongue as if you were tasting wine, searching for the hidden notes just as if it was that feral tuscany summer of ’22. after humming around him you realized how vocal he actually was. that realization caused a grind of your hips around nothing. you hadn't really fulfilled his wishes yet and you were practically making out with the tip of his cock so he grabbed the back of your neck again, sliding his fingers up enough to latch onto your hair and shoved your head further down on himself. eyebrows furrowed, mouth full, your gaze was still up at him, looking right into his eyes as you started to slowly rub your nipples to ease the frustration continuing to build up between your legs. the sight made him buck his hips towards you, going deeper now. you let go for a second to catch your breath, a string of saliva connecting you together. how sweet.

before taking him back in your mouth, you grabbed both of his hands and put them at the back of your head, giving him a little hint that you did wish for him to fuck your face. how sweet.

which he did. he was making you go even deeper than his previously set expectations on your throat, and your lips almost touched his mound as your saliva spilled from the sides of your lip and down your chin.

"such an obedient girl, aren't you? look how full i've made that little mouth of yours." he abruptly pulled out, slapping his now wet cock on your face. then, he leaned down close to your face. "how about i fill that little hole aswell, hm?" you were already fucked out as well, nodding with starry eyes and parted lips. how sweet.

he was nodding along. "you want that, honey? yeah?" he was already kissing you, tongue dancing along with yours as he lifted you out from the water and walked towards the bedroom. morning sun was shining through your lace curtains, making your glistening skin glow as he set you down on your bed, lips still attached, tip already positioned at your entrance to stretch you out good. you drew a series of sharp hisses through your teeth at the pain.

"oh love, it's just the tip. it's okay, you can take it. you're good." again, a series of nodding to each other, then he was kissing your face all over, caressing the side of your head. though, poor you, because he didn't even wait until you were used to the feeling of him stretching you out. he kept slowly pushing through, going deeper. and you couldn't help but grind against him because after all, it did feel good. and painful. raw and pure. "look at you. taking whatever i give you like the good little girl you are. can't go wrong here." he was already pumping in and out, he wasn't even fully in yet. he wasn't that cruel after all, or was he?

"i want more, hiro. give me more–" your wish was his command as he was already pushing further. the bulge in your lower belly started to be visible which he audibly appreciated. his hand reached down to massage where the tip of his cock appeared, making you cry out in pleasure, head spinning, pussy fluttering. you quickly held his hand to rub along with his fingers, which caught him with surprise. "oh fuck, you're a filthy one." he managed to go even more violent, cock slamming into you loudly. he abandoned your belly to rub circles instead on your clit which made you tense around him and pushed you dangerously close to the edge. a chant of his name came next before being so close that you only could let out breathless quiet moans as your muscles started to seize around him.

"that's it. don't stop, tell me who's got you." he no longer had a steady rhythm, it was desperate, he was desperate.

"hiromi, please." you nearly whispered. "fill me up." his entire body went rigid. you felt the sudden, searing heat of him filling you, a pulsing overflow that seemed to reach the very back of your throat. at the same moment, the tension in your own body snapped. you let out a loud broken sound, grinding yourself on him as you were clawing into his arms. as you both slowed down and stopped moving, he rolled over with you, now on top of him. he was still inside you, making sure nothing went to waste. he was already thinking about how he was going to slightly stuff your panties up your cunt to make sure no drop leaked out.

[pealambs]

i love how we collectively decided higuruma is a munch

[pealambs]

having a kitty too sensitive — your friend, higuruma, spiraling into a feverish mess over it. pt2

you’d been seeing higuruma for some time, though you had never really gone further than kissing. it hadn't felt necessary, as the two of you shared a pleasant flow that was comfortable enough already. everything was happening too quickly and chaotically in both of your lives, so you valued enjoying a late dinner together on a friday night. it was mostly spent at your place; even though his apartment had a great view, nothing compared to your balcony’s vantage point over your flower garden and the fresh breeze off the lake.

you would always prepare a new dessert the day before, as you liked making him try new things. god, until he met you, he had long believed he merely had a sweet tooth, yet it appeared it was your sweetness that had him wrapped around your finger.

it was another friday night. you had been swirling the wine in your glass for a while, having long forgotten about it, distracted by him meandering through the topic of the latest case he had been working on.

"higuruma—" you said, a trace of warning in your tone. he lifted his eyebrows as he quickly looked your way, breaking his gaze from the willow tree in your garden. "no work talk, remember? it’s the weekend; it is time to slow down. right?"

you had made many agreements regarding that. you could both talk about work during the week, but the second you were off the clock for the weekend—which was exactly 2:00 pm every friday afternoon—no more of it. higuruma had a hard time at first, of course, but he’d been doing much better since getting closer to you. you had diagnosed him as a workaholic and made it your personal responsibility to stop him from wasting his life away completely.

he hummed, and his mouth twitched into a small smile. "you are strict, for sure," he laughed, taking a sip of his wine shortly after. you relaxed your shoulders and slowly let a soft smile spread across your own face as well, leaning back in your chair.

he turned to you once again, looking you up and down. just from your posture and your glossy eyes, he could tell you were a little tipsier than usual. "you want to go inside?"

you could only let a humble, inaudible murmur leave your lips as you tipped your head to the side, the silly smile never leaving your face. he set his glass on the ground next to his chair and ambled toward you.

he tucked one arm behind your knees and the other around your back, gathering you up gently before setting you down on the living room sofa. "someone’s been testing the wine before i got here, huh?" he bumped your nose with his index finger. he liked the thought of you letting him guard you while you were out of it, as you weren't the kind to let your guard down—unless it was for him. oh, you’d trust him with your life.

a few hours passed. he cleaned up the kitchen before settling down on the sofa to scroll through your collection of movies. he wasn't even past the first row before you started to awaken. you noticed he was sitting right beside your head, and you were quick to push yourself up to rest your head on his thigh, fanning your hair over his lap. he took the hint and began caressing your hair, which you appreciated with low hums and soft, contented sounds. he found that cute.

it took only a few seconds until you were straddling his lap, asking him to caress the hair that fell down your back. this way, he was also caressing your back. oh, his pants did get a little tight, but you were acting like such a princess, which melted his heart. he tried oh so hard not to buck his hips upward to feel your warmth around his length a bit more. he was definitely trying really hard, especially with you squirming around and purring with your head pressed against his shoulder, which allowed your soft breathing to brush over his neck, right under his ear. he definitely tried not to get hard. he failed, of course.

"darling..." he sighed with a strained smile, trying to sound as kind as he could, but his voice cracked.

"hmm, hiro?" you lifted your hand to caress his chest.

were you doing it on purpose? he wanted to ask, but it seemed as if you were falling back asleep based on your breathing pattern. he shifted just a tiny bit, hoping to make it less painful, but achieved the painful opposite. your heat put a tiny bit of pressure against him now. you felt that, too.

"hiromi, you feel..." you let out a soft whimper, your head lolling back and your spine straightening. "so good." your tone finally made him gently thrust his hips up against you.

"doll," he sighed, a sound of both resistance and acquiescence. he quickly held onto your waist as you began to gingerly grind against the bulge in his pants. he truly thought you were half-asleep.

"i wonder..." well, you weren't that. not asleep—or were you sleepwalking? "i wonder how your tongue would feel on me. am i your doll?"

his heart fluttered like a trapped bird against the cage of his ribs. excitement filled his entire being, and he couldn't help but let out a groan. "yeah. yeah, you are." you finally sat up to face him, a look of pure, honeyed calmness on your face. "my pretty doll. oh, you're killing me."

he leaned in with a trace of hesitation, but your mouth quickly found his—a sugar-spun ache that demanded more. he drank from you as if your very breath were nectar. but he held your hips in place to stop you from grinding, the pressure turning his knuckles white. that resulted in whines and sobs against his mouth. you both felt like you could cum just from kissing, though the aching in your lower body was starting to get unbearable.

"please eat me out. please, please, please," you cried out as if you were starving. he stiffened under you and let out a sigh after looking you up and down without moving his head. he let go of the grip on your waist, hooked his index finger under the hem of your shirt, and stretched the fabric, moving his finger left and right to let some fresh breeze caress your skin. it made you shiver.

he started to lift it slowly upward, and now you were free to grind against him. but he was actively measuring you up.

"hiromi..."

"can i take this off?" he pulled the fabric in his direction, making you bend toward him a little. you nodded, and with his help, you finally got out of your top. immediately, he cupped your breasts and started planting kisses on top of them as they were squished together in his hands.

"doll, do you want to sit on my face, then?" he seemed as if he were talking into your chest at first but glanced up at the end of his sentence. you were already throbbing, soaked, and dizzy, spinning into a sweet madness from the lack of attention your body was getting.

"hiro, please. can i?" you were already up on your feet, stepping out of your skirt but leaving your pantyhose on.

"yeah, keep those on, pretty. come here." he tapped his lap, and you climbed onto him again—this time with a vibrating energy that made you shake. you kissed him messily, saliva spilling from the side of his mouth and yours. "eager, huh?" he smiled, grabbing your cheeks, your plush lips pouting as they were pressed together. he positioned his palm on the back of your neck and gently laid you down on the sofa, sitting up while he got on his knees in front of you, almost at eye level now. he never broke the kiss; you never did, either. his hands were caressing the back of your calves, and you couldn't help but subtly grind against the sofa and hold onto his shoulders. he moved his hand up to push your thighs apart. his gaze met your core, covered by the sheer fabric. the sight immediately made him twitch; a wet spot had swept through your pantyhose, as you had no panties on. he was already lightheaded just from that. he brushed his palms under your thighs to lift you and pull you to the edge of the sofa.

"can you spread a bit more, honey?" you tried your best to give him everything. "you're so pretty..." he collected a fraction of your arousal on his finger to show it to you. "you see how much your little cunt wants me?" you nodded and rolled your hips around nothing. he did not hesitate; he caressed your bottom lip with his slick-covered finger until you licked it off. with the taste of your arousal mixed with the wine already on your tongue, you hummed at the flavors dancing in your mouth. you grabbed his wrist to shove his entire finger in your mouth. his mouth dropped open with a silent moan, but soon it was wrapped around your fabric-covered center, lapping at it. your mouth vibrated around his finger with quiet hums. you thrusted your hips against his face, rolling them left and right as if he were just a toy you could grind on. when you thrusted high enough, you could feel his nose brush against your clit, and it made a broken whine spill from your lips. his tired eyes were watching your face, and oh, you were aware of it. his gaze was one you couldn't ignore, making you melt into his hold like honey—or a waterfall, as your arousal was already dripping down his chin, even without being completely stripped of your tights.

it didn't take long until he had ripped the fabric open at your slit, immediately replacing the loss of touch with his tongue. he went in rough and raw, and you cried out, fingers brushing through his dark hair just to tighten your grip and push his head back a bit.

"oh—are you okay, kitten?" he pulled back immediately, cupping your face with the hand you had recently sucked on.

"you're too—harsh. i'm sorry. i'm really sensitive there," you panted, taking shorter and longer breaks between your words as everything was too overwhelming to handle. "i'm sorry, that's such a turn-off."

oh, god. i'm gonna make you my wife, he thought.

"my darling's too fragile? oh, poor you." he slid his hand down to rub tiny circles on your clit as he talked to you—barely touching, no pressure at all. you bucked your hips up again. "i'll be gentle. i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i'll take good care of you, yeah?" you nodded, your body already missing his lips as you impatiently waited for him. "say it."

"yes, please. hiromi..." you said his name with an urgency in your tone. that was just enough for him; he was back at eating you up, this time gentle and slow. his head was spinning as you whined and sobbed, eager to cum all over his tongue. he knew you were already trembling, twitching, and clenching around nothing. he slid his hand back under your thigh—the one still covered in your saliva—just to slowly push his thumb inside you for a moment. you quickly felt empty again as the same thumb circled around your rim, and you could swear your eyes crossed a bit. that pushed you to the edge. really close. he was still gifting you tiny kitten licks on your slit, which, combined with the movements of his thumb switching between your holes, made you completely lose it. you went quiet as the tight knot in your abdomen grew stronger.

"that's it, honey. you're so close, hm?" his voice alone made you cream against his tongue. your whole body twitched, and just a second after you started to cum, he shoved his tongue inside you to feel you pulse and twitch around him. he moaned at the feeling, and god, his head was spinning. he felt as though he were at the verge of collapsing—or just cumming in his own pants.

"god... god... god. fuck. hiromi." you were whining with tears rolling down your face from the territory of pleasure. he let you ride it out on his tongue, his movements getting lazier by the second before he finally collapsed against you. he kissed your inner thigh just before moving up to you—to kiss you, to cup your cheeks with his hands, to press kisses on your forehead, your hairline, your cheeks, your nose, and your eyes. you purred.

he slowly sat beside you, and both of you moved so you were on his lap right away. you hugged him tight, arms wrapped around his neck and face planted on his shoulder, as you slowly calmed your heart rate, fixed your breathing, and comprehended how good that had been.

"hiromi..." you panted, still. a low, questioning hum vibrated through his chest, as it was pressed to yours. he was caressing your back and hair with one hand, the other rubbing comforting circles on your hip. "can i claim you? like, now?" he stopped all of his movements. you felt your ears getting hot. "i mean... i'm sorry. i misread. or something. yeah, i'll just shut u—"

"you've already claimed me a long time ago."