Would she have stopped if she’d realized her error? It seemed not. There was no way she could not, in some corner of her mind, realize her folly already. But her kisses remained urgent and unabashedly desperate. She drank him in like she required it more than her breath, thin and panting as it was. Rei’s fingers curled. If Nahoya appeared in the doorway then, would she see? Would she stop then?<br/><br/>She was hit with a sharp wave of dizziness when Kit pulled the blankets from between them, vision swimming when he rolled himself beneath him. She should have been looking at him directly then, flushed cheeks and open mouth. Their equal hunger, though, kept her view narrow and cut by the strange and vital collision of their lips. Rei made a sound that was something like a sob, an apology for her own wild that she drowned with her own slick muscle.<br/><br/>“I need this.” She sounded devastated, and it was lovely. “I’ve needed this from you for so long.” Rei had never let her frustration coil like this, spring loaded lust and the sort of reckless that would have made her fresher than any of the eager girls that sat in her class. She shuddered against his touch, and pushed herself harder into his palms when he found her breasts. Perhaps it was for need of support, being maneuvered upright in her weak fatigue, but she seemed eager for it in more desirable ways. The friction of her clothes had become something torturous between her tender sex and his manhood.<br/><br/>Rei might have always wanted this lie. To have the stable consistency of her romance woven onto Kitato’s body. That volatile man she’d never understood, because he’d required self-reflection she’d been unwilling to give. Naho had pampered her. She’d lived in his quiet projections. This woman, fever-wracked and trembling, was something else. Hands in her hair, in her mouth, at her throat. She felt like she was sliding through the gestures of their bodies in a daze.<br/><br/>He didn’t really have to demand. She was already moving, anticipating him. Valiant effort for the sick body, huffing as she looked for the pleasure he was promising between them. “Mr. Aikida…” she mouthed it around his fingers, slick with her saliva as her tongue slid between her lips. Nahoya might have been summoned then. Would she look terrible to him, lewd or sick or both? Astride his brother with a girlish sort of fluster and a will to please despite her health. Most times, when she was sick, she sent Naho from the room to leave her be. He was left delivering medicines and food like offerings at her shrine.<br/><br/>This was some other sort of worship, and it seemed Rei had never wanted to be the god of their home’s microcosm. She was so painstakingly aroused for Kitato’s irreverence that it erred toward something miraculously deviant. “I’m sorry for being this way.” She choked it out, gasping at her own behavior because it was atrocious and pleasurable. A fine and sincere apology, though it promised nothing of stopping. Rei had probably never been more beautiful.