It was excruciating to have Nahoya bring his longing to her so readily. She’d not meant to entice, and she was hit with another pang of guilt when even this little tenderness was enough to encourage him. She held her breath when he kissed her neck, that sensitive spot that she had occasionally thought he built what little ego he had from. It was a moment of trepidation that read like she was being swept up. She hated the thought of Naho crawling after her for whatever pleasures she had to spare. Not that he knew Kit had been buried in her mere moments before. And there was, too, the worry that she was spent. Kitato had, in the span of today, taken her as many times as Nahoya would in a week. The couple had been more prolific in the infancy of their love, but, when love was uniformly sweet there was little reason for certain acts to hold any greater sway than another. Often enough, she’d just as happily have shared a meal with him and gone to satisfy herself, alone, in the shower.<br/><br/>None of it was to say that he was an unpleasant lover, nor objectively undesirable. If Kitato was the suggestion of a rebel that made teenaged girls swoon, Nahoya might as well have been the version of the same man those very girls would someday hope to marry. Stability, in the end, quiets the heart. She swallowed down the worst thoughts about what, precisely, giving in to Naho’s inquiries meant. She shouldn’t think of him taking refuge in what his brother had left. Rather, perhaps it was best to believe he could wash all her horridness away. He had always made Rei a better person, after all. He was meticulous between her legs, his expression polite. What a good man, to seek permission for even this.<br/><br/>When he actually asked her, it startled her. She made a small sound, not argumentative, but surprised by his boldness. “Naho,” Rei started, a little breathy laugh stealing the rest of the remark as she nodded. It was almost a shade shy, and she flushed a shade pink too. How impossible these brothers were. Her soft mound was still slick with recollection of Kit’s intrusion, and it was appalling that her own body lied for Nahoya in such a way. His interpretation was as innocent as it was self-serving, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from scrambling back on the bed away from him. Thank god Kit wasn’t there to see his brother hunger for his ghost. Rei wove her fingers into his hair when his tongue teased her still-swollen clit, spreading her legs a bit wider for the pressure. If he was intent on it, she thought it was necessary that it be pleasing. He was the sort of man that would feel be disappointed by inadequacy.<br/><br/>Her body was more resilient than she suspected, adding to what lust Naho had hoped to claim as his own. When she was aching from the tenderness of it—it was difficult to question the man’s diligence—she leaned back onto her elbows to arch herself against his lips. Rei was not usually so eager with him, amenable to letting him take his time on a regular evening. “Nahoya,” her breath hitched as she called for him. Not a command, exactly, but the kind of request Rei was used to having obeyed. “Put something on?” she mumbled, laying back on the bed. She wanted him inside her. Rei told herself it was because she wanted to please him too, and not at all because she was aching for Kitato’s length again.