Rei did well to hold his gaze for a while. He’d not moved to let her off the counter, and in her precarious position she would not have come off the surface gracefully. Teetering on that ledge, she was keenly aware of the pacing of her own breath and the effort it took to mind her pulse. A rebellious body, with none of her mind’s hesitations. When she was unable to hold her ground anymore—she squirmed as if she wanted something even as her averting gaze read with a shameful kind of irritation—she was aware that she was admitting defeat.<br/><br/>She pressed the back of one hand to her lips, muffling the soft sounds that begged her tongue. His touch was excruciating. Rei shivered, squeezing her eyes shut as he traced her skin, and letting out a small and unbidden gasp when he palmed one of her inviting rounds. It was strange, because he touched her for himself and it shouldn’t have been as satisfying as it was. Nahoya always aimed to satisfy her. There had been more than once that she’d gently reminded him to be concerned with his own pleasure, her palms on his chest as she sat a stride his hips and regarded him with a sweet but uninspired stare. Kitato didn’t seem to care. His hands suggested that he thought he owned her, or was planning to, and it drew her in like some bizarre and barbaric call to the wilder places.<br/><br/>When she opened her eyes, she met his stare again. The wine hues in her earthy irises seemed brighter in this light. Lips parted, the wet tip of her tongue tracing the pink grooves. Rei was more than ready for him when he made to taste her. Her breath was hot and a little more frantic for the stiff imposition he slipped between them. When he moved, her muscles flexed, tensing like she was caught in the illusion of receiving him. “What?” she breathed, pulling back from his kiss. “Mister—” she began, about to challenge such a bold suggestion with obligate disagreement. Rei exhaled sharply and pushed herself roughly forward to sheath him deeper. It had been reflexive, and the look on her face read with a sort of unmasked relief that was flattering to him in ways she’d never purposefully intend.<br/><br/>It wasn’t fair that he had learned the cues of her body so quickly. If only he were so studious in his classes, they might have had a pleasant and reasonable sort of connection. Instead, Nahoya’s innocent happiness was hinging on something altogether awful. Still, it was impossible for her to deny what she felt when he was buried inside her. If there had been the ghost of resistance in her before, she abandoned it now. She was too simple for him to wind up. It was dangerous for them both.<br/><br/>Rei was feeding him the sorts of sounds he’d have heard from the other side of his bedroom wall. More breathless though, and for him. She was unabashed in offering her own sort of selfishness to his possession, grinding her hips hard to press her swollen bud into the base of his shaft on every stroke. When the water stopped running, it was perilously quiet and Kitato’s pace was as dangerously urgent. She shuddered. “—Aikida” she finished the name he’d handed her too long before, and whatever rebellious sentiment it had been intended with was warped into the pleading mewl of her kiss-flushed lips.