Kitato was growing increasingly spoiled with all her allowances. The way she used to look away was either dismissive, like he was childish for staring at her, or almost irritated, again swinging her age like it was worth that much. The eager girls who were not at all conflicted about him, could not be so overwhelmed by their body's acceptance of him as Rei was. Their adherence to lust was not so primal. To give slight mockery to her protecting hand when it tried to keep her silent while he inspected her with his, he licked her out-turned palm, as though she'd offered it there for his tasting. You can't do anything I won't enjoy, sister-in-law.<br/><br/>The kiss was better than their farewell joust in the car. This was what he'd been looking for. He smiled into it. Rei Yoshino needed the promise of being wide-legged to be completely engaged. He should tell her. But he didn't. He didn't let her speak, either. Rei didn't mind, embracing him with her arms and taut, slippery room. It made him feel like he could do anything to her. In the absence of a torrent in the walls of their home, he heard her say his family name, and it filled him with such dark triumph that he punished her harder, deeper. Such a confident boy, leaning back to see her face to have his victory, stroking his thumb almost dismissively over her humming lips that spilled his compliments in sounds she never made for his brother. It was in a gently, unflattering tug of her finally honest mouth that he burst inside her, at the height of the things he'd learned she was addicted to.<br/><br/>The door opened to the bathroom, and Kit slapped that hand firmly around her sounds. If she needed more he'd still rolls his hips, wonders of youth anatomy, but she must make her adorable, flushing sounds only in her throat. The footsteps of their beloved man were alone in the house, and Kitato thought her heard the rubbing of a towel. One of the aggressive things that Naho would ever to, was dry his hair violently. Their mother had commented on it a few times. Even before they knew which way Nahoya was going - he'd not usually come into the kitchen after the shower - Kit let her leg down and and tapped a finger of the oppressing hand against her cheekbone, to remind her to be mute when he let her go.<br/><br/>"Good shower, Mr. Aikida?" Kit said to echo her, and as the oldest brother answered, Kit retreated from her, making a point of its suddenness. It would almost be worth it if whatever sound she made from unsheathing would reveal them as wicked to Naho rushing in.<br/><br/>"Yes. You should too." Nahoya answered and for a moment his feet drummed closer. Kit raised his eyebrows at her like this was the best part of a movie, peddling suspense. Perhaps the brotherly connection between them had told the dastardly Aikida, that they were safe, somehow, because Naho turned before reaching the room where Rei had moaned better than she ever had in their bedroom. Soon the steps were very dull, and a door opened further away. "Rei?" he asked into their private chamber.<br/><br/>Kit had already fitted himself into his pants and left her on the counter. He ran his hand through his hair in a dashing display of cavalier, like he hadn't just stabbed her where she sat, and she hadn't been willing for her own murder. He waved a finger toward the disappearing voice. "Better go preform." he said to the woman who was wearing her lover's shirt and her own underwear all wrong. "I'm tired and I can't give you more tonight." But his grin was not exhausted. "I'll clean up here." That, at least, was something of an improvement, since he'd shirk chores vehemently when he could, in the past.