tampered | Log; Complete

Current Mood: ♥

Log; Complete

When; February 25th, a continuation of this
Rating; NC-17
Characters; Takani Megumi [

foxy_physician] and Akechi Mitsuhide [

silk_in_ebony]
Summary; "You know all of me belongs to you, don't you?"
Log;

Megumi glanced down at her obijime, trembling fingers tracing the silken cord delicately. Her haori had already been discarded, and lay on the floor in a heap; next was her obi, to be unraveled, after which was the kimono in itself . . . She drew a shuddering breath, closing her eyes.

She was nervous, yes; terribly so.

Because . . . for all her foxiness, and her wiliness, and the way in which she teased and tormented . . . she was still very much untouched.

Of course, she had come very close to losing her maidenhead in what would have been very unpleasant circumstances—Takeda Kanryu had been good at blackmail, after all, and had robbed her of several other experiences. But Takani Megumi was an intelligent woman, and knew how to somehow evade and manipulate situations even when she was held captive.

Glancing at Mitsuhide-san, she sighed softly, thankful more than ever that she had managed to escape the fate of being Kanryu’s mistress—and now, she was with someone she loved, someone who took care of her, watched over her, understood her, and loved her in return . . .

She was nervous, yes—not because of him—never because of Mitsuhide-san—but simply because she was a maiden, and like all maidens, feared what was unknown to them.

Still . . .

She proffered him a tiny smile of promise, pressing close to kiss him softly. She was sure that everything was going to be alright, because she trusted Mitsuhide-san, and knew that he was going to take care of her, and was going to make everything wonderful.

Her fingers wound around the obijime and began to unravel it from her waist.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was different. Different than any other times before. Mitsuhide could not say that he was overly experienced; there had been times, of course (and he was mentally excluding a certain curse here), but none that had meant as much as this did. None that meant as much as she did... and she was untouched as well, and more than anything he wanted to make this a good experience for her. No... more than that. It had to be perfect.

"Megumi-san..." he muttured softly, returning her soft kiss.

It was unexpected; he hadn't really thought they would come to this yet, but somehow it had fallen into place... it was just the right moment... and he was hypnotised by watching her gradually unclothe herself, his heart responding with a pace that just increased his desire tenfold. Mitsuhide had to again pull himself out of the trance to work at removing his own clothing, finally pulling his hakama loose and discarding it to the floor. His kimono and under-kimono would be next, but he shouldn't rush... and he knelt again, kissing her heatedly.

Her skin was so perfect, so smooth and soft... inviting, and the thought of gaining access to even more thrilled him. To make her feel good... that was all he needed to be happy.

She leaned into his kiss, sighing softly as edged closer, tipping her head back to seek more of him. The obijime quickly fell away, and she reached back to undo the obi’s folds. Another rustle of brocade, and it was undone, slipping to the floor in a puddle of silk. She heaved a shuddering breath, and plucked at the koshihimo—the last cord holding her kimono fast, and with a deft twist of her hands it was unraveled. Arching free from the heavy cloth, she nudged it away, until finally she was left in the nagajuban—the one last layer before she bared skin.

Another deep breath to dispel her nerves, and she kissed him eagerly, hungrily, lingering a moment before pulling away slightly, loosening the datejime around her waist until the nagajuban gaped open as the cord fell away. A strip of flesh emerged from collarbone downwards, broken only by the wrappings around her chest and her hips.

Megumi gazed at him, part shyness, part invitation, eyes fathomless and dark with desire, as she took his hands and drew them inside the last layer of cloth to settle upon her waist—an invitation, and a declaration of trust. I’m yours, do as you will . . . A tiny smile curved upon her lips—of plea and shy promise—and she arched into him for a nuzzling kiss, open-mouthed against the underside of his jaw, before she rose up to partake of another upon his lips, sweet and yearning.

“Mitsuhide-san . . . Yours . . . ” she whispered softly.

A wonderful heat blazed through him at those actions, and he softly smoothed across the skin of her body where she had placed his hands. So lovely to touch... so warm, nay, almost hot. A fascinated smile graced his handsome face, and he slipped his hands behind her so the were resting on her back. Lowering his head, Mitsuhide kissed her stomach once, twice... a third time.

"Megumi-san... mmmm..." he replied, showing his appreciation by raising his head for a moment to smile at her.

Bowing it once more, he kissed across the expanse of bared skin... the kisses became hotter and slower as he moved across. Gently taking his hands away from her back, he stroked the flesh a little before getting back to work on his own clothing, quickly getting rid of his kimono and loosening his white under-kimono so it fell open. His chest was as pale as to be expected, marked only by various scars here and there. The young samurai has fought many battles already in his lifetime, but he could still remember where he had gained each one.

There was one dark one on the right side of his stomach that was all that was left of a wound he had gained fighting the stewards. Megumi had been the one to tend to it... and despite the fact that it had been a rather horrific injury, it had the beloved memory of the time he had told her he loved her attached to it.

Flicking his head bacm to send his hair over his shoulders, he regarded her face lovingly, drawn in by the desire in her eyes and touched by the shyness in her smile. So beautiful... and she wanted him.

He needed to kiss her lips again and did so, at the same time slipping a hand behind her back, underneath the remaining cloth and caressing bared skin, enjoying the feel of it beneath his hands.

She quivered beneath his ministrations, liquid heat shooting through her with the touch of his hands, his lips, upon bared flesh. A muffled gasp against his kiss as he caressed her sensitive skin, and she was biting down upon her lip to stifle a sound that was of nervousness, surprise, and pleasure all at once. Opening eyes she had not known she had clenched shut, she returned her gaze to him . . . biting down upon her lip for another reason altogether when she saw the scars that marked him.

Reaching out, she gently traced them—the testimonies to the life he was born and raised into, just as her exploring touch was a testimony to the life that she was committed to by descent and by passion. Her fingertips slid upon the scars that she could find, and she sighed, gazing up at him wordlessly with love and acceptance and gleaming, fathomless eyes . . . her hands finding the scar that she had mended, her thoughts alighting upon the memories that came with it.

She was a doctor, but not all injuries extended solely to the physical. That wound was only one thing that she had tended, but he had eased and healed so many in her that she had not known she had even carried all those years.

He made her like him the moment they had met . . . and made her love him the moment she had come to his arms that night, lost and alone, seeking that which she could not name—and he gave it, freely, without understanding or asking—simply protecting, and soothing away the hurt that came with loss and fear.

Giving him a grateful smile, she knew at that moment that that was where she was meant to be—with him, at his side, taking care of him and loving him and keeping him happy and safe and hale and whole . . . just as he did for her.

Leaning into him, she gave him another lingering kiss, drawing her hands away so that she could shrug off the under-kimono. A sliding rasp of cloth, and it fell away, pooling onto the floor.

Without breaking away from the kiss, she took his hand, and placed it upon her heart, the bindings around her chest the only thing between his palm and her heated skin.

He shivered when she traced the battle chronicle that his scars formed, a pleasurable feeling working its way through his spine at the touch of her soft fingers. His life, that which he had been born and bound into, the samurai's path by birth and choice. A choice made to protect the innocent, to protect everyone he could. He believed that such was his duty with a passion... but more than anything, it was her he wanted to protect. In a natural way, she'd become the centre of his world, and if he was ever put in the position where he'd have to sacrifice everything to save her? He would, without hesitation.

Mitushide prayed every day he would never have to do so. He knew it would hurt her to lose him, because he would experience that pain should he lose her. To love and know he was loved back in the same way was beautiful.

A soft sigh could not be stopped when she kissed him again, and when moments later she placd his hand over her heart, he gasped gently. Finishing that kiss, he turned his attention to her bindings. Somewhere beneath where his hand lay, he could feel the beat of her heart. He could feel his own begin to pace more quckly in response, and barely managed to keep his breathing in check. Deep, controlled breaths... and he slowly, slowly undid those bindings.

Oh... it was almost torture to go so slowly, but this was a time to be savoured... to show appreciation... to not move quickly, but passionately.

Eventually those bindings slid to the floor, shortly followed by his own under-kimono. His hand moved over her heart again, but this time found hot skin. Lovely... and he moved that hand aside instead to kiss her there with an open mouth, sucking gently, drawing further heat to the surface. Ebony hairs were falling around his face again, but he barely noticed this time, occupied with kissing her chest, smoothing gently along her side, and just... just her. Megumi-san...

She drew a breath as he unwound the bindings that concealed her chest, ever-so-slowly . . . she watched him, with bated breath, as he worked, knowing that he was making an effort to make things good and perfect for her . . . and she trusted him, with everything and with her . . .

And after what seemed like a small eternity, they finally came undone, sliding to the floor in a swish of cotton. She wondered briefly what thoughts ran through his mind before his mouth was suddenly there, and—

A hushed, tremulous gasp, and her fingers found purchase in his hair, clenching there. Oh . . . Her breath quickened as heat washed over her—thrumming, pulsing heat—and she was arching her back, shivering delicately beneath his hands, beneath the gentle, sucking kiss upon her skin that sent pleasure surging through her from the core of her to her very fingertips. It felt good, so good, and—

“Kiss you . . .” It was a muffled whimper, a plea, and she was nudging him back up feebly. “Please . . .”

"Yes..." he replied simply, voice quiet and husky.

He moved up to find her lips and did not hesitate, leaning in to claim then again before anything else. The ebony-haired man could feel the heat radiating from himself now... his entire body felt flushed, but it was a good flush. Lowering himself down so he was hovering just a few centimetres over her, braced on one elbow as he continued to kiss deeply, he could feel the heat pouring away from his beloved as well.

Had he ever felt this excited before? Had he been able to think properly, he would have known the answer was a no.

Moving back up again, he looked down at her and took one of her hands in one of his. There was an slight smile on his face, filled with encouragement and reassuring love, and his eyes were half-lidded.

"Megumi-san..." he whispered.

A soft sound of delight escaped her as his lips found hers again, and she was tangling her fingers through his ebon hair, chasing after his kisses with those of her own. Each one was heady and intoxicating, and she found that she couldn’t stop partaking of them, of him.

When he pulled away, she gazed back up at him with dark eyes, aglow with want and desire and love. His fingers interlacing with hers was a comfort and a reassurance, and she proffered him a small, trusting smile.

“Mitsuhide-san . . .” She whispered his name in response, and it was promise and supplication all at once.

Tilting her head back, she sank lower until her lips were upon his throat, brushing an open-mouthed kiss there, soft and teasing . . . then she found the hollow of his collarbone, tongue flickering lightly into the depression before she took slow, careful suckle.

Meanwhile, the hand that was intertwined with his hovered upon the koshimaki wrapped securely around her hips. A murmur of his name, sweetly yearning, and she allowed his fingers to slip beneath the seams upon her waist as she freed the cord that held it snug.

Mitsuhide made gentle, pleased sighs as she suckled at his collarbone, finding his eyes closing shut as the resulting sensations washed through him. That such a simple thing could feel so good was truly fascinating, and wonderful to him.

When he found his fingers being slipped underneath the cloth held on her waist, he gave a proper gasp, biting his lip slightly afterwards. For a moment his fingers did not move, but then he began to stroke the skin there lovingly, carefully... so soft and perfect!

"Ahhh..."

Moving away from her lips for a moment, his own found her ear, kissing the lobe and tracing the edge. Stay in control, take it slowly... and he kissed along her jaw, again on her mouth, then on her throat. The hand that was at her waist moved upwards, tracing along the curve of her body before coming to rest on her chest for a moment. His head moved lower, kissing across her breasts and over her stomach once again, stopping on occasion to suckle lightly.

"Feel?" he asked, barely able to get the words out thanks to his rapdily beating heart. "Want?"

She sucked in a breath as his fingers glided along her waist, and she lifted her hips to aid in pulling off the koshimaki, loosening the fabric and tugging it away. The blush resting upon her cheeks deepened as the last vestige of her clothing fell away, but whatever embarrassment she may have had disappeared as he brushed kisses seemingly everywhere, and she let out a mewling cry—she was awash in fire, and it felt glorious, and wonderful . . . she pressed up against him, the first rasp of flesh on flesh making her gasp hotly.

Megumi shivered as he hovered before her, silken hair trailing cool against her flushed skin.

“Yes,” she murmured, sighed, her breath rasping in her own ears. “Yours . . . all yours . . .”

Take me, all of me, yours . . .

Her cry was enough to send heated fire throughout his veins, a blaze in response to the sound of her pleasure. Heavens, he needed her so badly! That need demanded that he hurry up, move more quickly, but again he ignored it. It was better when things went slowly... passionately. But it wouldn't be long now anyway... not long.

Mitsuhide lowered himself so their skin touched again and kissed her deeply. Suppporting his weight on his elbow, he unravelled the last part of his own clothing from his waist with his free hand and threw it to the floor.

Completely bared now... completely exposed to her... and though he felt he had perhaps already been answered, he still felt compelled to ask.

"So..." he whispered, finishing that kiss and moving the tiniest amount away, "ready?"

As he waited for her answer he found her neck again, that beautiful, inviting neck, and found a sensitive part to suckle at, whilst his free hand smoothed a trail along her body and down the inside of her legs.

Her breath hitched as he lingered upon her neck, the feel of his mouth against her responsive skin both a soothing balm to her fears and a spark to her pleasure that made it grow and spiral higher, until it was wending through every fiber of her in ribbons of heat. A small, shuddering gasp spilled from her lips as his hand slipped between her legs, her head falling back beneath the onset of sensation, a quiver of both nerves and anticipation skittering down her spine. A muted whimper of his name.

“Yes,” she murmured, her voice a breathy sigh. “But . . . Let me touch you first . . . Please? . . .”

Fingers splayed, she trailed them teasingly upon his chest, feeling muscles tense beneath her questing touch. One hand returned to his hair, seeking familiar comfort there, while the other drifted downwards still. It was a maiden’s curiosity as well as a maiden’s (and a fox’s) eager desire to please her beloved, and her palm found him, fingertips running inquisitively along his length before grasping gently. A push, and a pull, before her hand stilled.

Finding his ear, she traced the rim of the shell gently with her tongue before brushing a kiss there. “Is it . . . alright?” she whispered tremulously—shy, teasing, longing. “ . . . what you like?”

You know I just want to please you . . .

It was not what he expected from someone untouched... not at all, but the moment her fingertips touched his length he shuddered, and when the hand moved around it he properly gasped, eyes closing at the burst of sudden pleasure.

"Y-y-yes," he spluttered in response to her question and kiss. "H-heavens... heavens..."

Mitsuhide bit down on his lip, surpressing what would have been a slight but pleading moan. What he liked? Of course... how could it not be? He was hot already, but his bodily temperature seemed to increase further at the intimate touch, and he wanted more, the need he'd kept in check now stimulated and practically comsuming him. His free hand trailed back up her body to find her shoulder, holding there lightly.

"M-M-Megumi-san..."

His reaction only inflamed her further, a soft moan spilling forth, against his hair. His shudder against her elicited one from her as well, and she couldn’t help the roll of her hips, and the rasping cry that left her lips. She kissed his ear again, hotly, before finding the junction where neck met shoulder. An open-mouthed kiss there, and she was sucking more fervently now, raising heat to the surface—she was certain that that would mark, but she couldn’t help it—learning of him with touch and taste and sensation . . .

Her hand around him resumed the tempo, stroking him steadily, watching his responses and having them build her own. It was exhilarating to be able to give him pleasure, to be able to do what he liked, and it fueled her own desire, made her yearn for him even more.

A nuzzle, and she was nudging him up with the hand upon his hair so that she could kiss his mouth, hot and gasping.

“Mitsuhide-san . . .” she breathed, needing him, needing to give to him. Another fervid kiss, and she was pressing up against him, gasping at the sliding friction of skin against skin. “I want you so much . . . touch me, take me, yours . . . Oh . . .” She broke off on a stifled whimper. “Please . . .”

Her stroking was threatening to send him over the edge, but he managed to hold back from getting that far. That did not stop the quiet moans from escaping, the soft cries of pleasure finding their way out. Panting, he shook his head a little to try and help him think more clearly.

"M...Megumi-san..." he managed between kisses.

Her pleas reached his ears and stirred him further. He needed her just as badly... he needed her so much now it was hurting. With his free hand he moved back down her body and found the insides of her legs again, stroking the skin of one side for a moment before easing her legs apart just enough... just enough. Mitsuhide was interrupted there, gasping her name as his body demanded. Heavens, it felt so, so good! Desire was flooding his system, wanting to touch more, kiss more, hear his name on her lips... feel what it would be like to be inside her, at one with her...

A shiver passed down his spine again, and he bent to kiss her again, all heat and passion and want.

"Megumi-san..." he sighed. "I know... I want you too... hold on to me, beloved... hold on to Mitsuhide..."

His hand moved now to brush over her entrance. This would be her first time... he would be getting the blessing and priviledge of being the one to take her maidenhead. But that meant there would be a moment of pain for her, and he did not like that idea. All women had to go through it, he knew, but still... well, he would just have to make sure it was worth it, that she was unable to think about it for a moment.

"Megumi-san... Megumi..."

The sound of his voice resonated in her ears, vibrating through her blood hotly until she was trembling with it—each sound of pleasure, each gasp, each breath a dash of wine upon her senses, intoxicating and sweet; she couldn’t help but cry out in response, whimper his name as her own desire spiked through her, liquid fire and light and sensation.

She heaved a shuddering breath as he eased her legs apart, a sudden burst of nervousness clenching in her gut, but she willed it away. When he claimed her lips once again with his own, another ripple of heat unfurled quickly through her veins, coaxing a tiny, muffled moan to catch in her throat and a heated response as she answered the kiss with an ardent one of her own.

It was almost a disappointment to stop exploring his reactions and his pleasure with her touch, but that disappointment faded beneath the rising anticipation of what was to come and the pulsing, surging need. Relinquishing her hold and obeying as he said, she curled both arms delicately about his shoulders, bracing herself flush against him with a trusting whisper of his name into the silk of his hair.

The brush of his hand upon the sacred niche between her thighs made her fingers clench unwittingly, made a shiver streak through her as sensation swept through her aching flesh. She buried her head into the crook of his neck, holding on tightly—readying herself.

“Mitsuhide-san,” she whispered—a bashful question, trusting acquiescence—want and need and love.

I want you so much, and I want to give you all of me . . .

"Megumi-san..." he replied soothingly, voice reassuring and loving; the answer in her name as the question had been in his. She had to be slightly nervous, but he would take care of her, no matter what. It was as simple as that. Because he loved her.

Mitsuhide carefully positioned himself, taking a deep breath, and brought his hand back up, stroking her hair for a moment before resting on it as well.

Beautiful warmth and need consumed him, but always was that thought that he had to make this a good experience for her. He would... he would take any physical pain away, make her forget it, so she could only remember the good. That was what mattered more than anything else.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

Prepared, and sure she was ready, his length found her entrance and he slipped inside, almost immediately gasping at the immediate sensations that poured through his body. The urge to move within her was overwhelming, but he held on, needing to be sure she was okay. Moving back his head a little, entire body trembling with his need, he kissed her desperately, passionately.

"...okay...Megumi-san?" he gasped, then biting down on his lip to distract himself until he got her answer.

Megumi bit down upon her lip, a small sound of pain warbling in her throat. She felt the telltale burn as the last remnant of her maidenhood spilt, as well as the searing stretch as her untried body accommodated him. A part of her mind knew that there would be blood later, and her hands clutched at his shoulders, holding onto him for comfort and reassurance. She took deep breaths, knowing that it would help dispel the discomfort until she could move.

Sighing as his lips found hers, his kisses rekindled the flame that had flickered dull with the pain, and she found herself kissing him back, regaining the need that had flooded her so desperately earlier.

“I love you,” she whispered in return, her voice unsteady with sensation and emotion.

“I'm . . . alright . . . just . . . hurts a little . . . M-Mitsuhide-san . . . Touch me . . . please?” she mumbled, hands trembling as she held onto him. “I need you . . .”

Experimentally, she shifted her hips against his, mouth falling open in a gasp of warring pain and pleasure.

He nodded. He knew as such would happen, the pain he'd seen in her face evident of the discomfort... but as he promised to himself earlier, he would make her forget that. Make her forget it. The pain should not last long, if he handled things right. He knew it.

"Darling..." he whispered quietly, concern and desire mixed into one in the tones of his voice. "Concentrate... on me... just... me... just the good..."

He moved as close as possible, skin against hers, kissing passionately, and began to move inside of her. Slowly... so very, very slowly, with a careful, gentle restraint. It was enough to send a flare of pleasure up through his spine, and he gasped into her mouth. Treasure her, adore her... He did, and he would. Holding his balance, he moved one elbow up so his hand could reach the top of her head and stroke her hair there. His breathing was already growing heavier in response to the feelings coursing through his body.

"Megumi-san.. just... just me..."

Megumi nodded feebly, entrusting herself to him. She listened to his voice as his words both washed over her soothingly and played along her senses, reawakening the fire that flowed within her and between them.

She quivered, body drawing taut as he began to move, hips shifting against his in inexperienced answer. A whimpered, surprised moan escaped her as sudden sensation streaked through her aching flesh—agonizing pleasure and a blaze of molten heat and desire and need. She held on to him tightly, seeking his mouth in a searing, heated kiss that conveyed all of her want, all of her trust, all of her love. The pain faded gradually beneath the warmth and the sliding rasp of flesh against flesh, and she found herself gasping for breath, clinging to him, moving tentatively in response.

“Just you,” she moaned sweetly—a shivering cry, and she was throwing her head back, biting down upon her lip beneath the overwhelming sensations. “Just you—Oh—Mitsuhide-san—” Another gasp, and she was burying her face in his neck, not wanting to let go, never wanting it to end, and yet seeking something that her body did not understand but craved and needed.

"Just me... just me... Megumi-san..."

Her own movements in reponse to his, though inexperienced, were pure poetry to him. A slight smile formed on his face before he found himself gasping, her cries stirring his own voice. Heat, fuelled by pure desire and want and love, pulsed quickly through his body. It felt so, so good. Confident that she was no longer feeling the pain, he quickened his pace a little, still slow, soft and slow and passionate, but at the level he felt best for her and himself.

"You... you're... beautiful, perfect..." he whispered, finding her neck and placing multiple kisses there. "Love, love, LOVE you~!"

The 'you' faded into a full moan, pleasure just blazing through his body. Incredible, just... incredible... it had never felt this intense before, never caused this kind of fire.

"Megumi-san..."

Her breathing quickened as the heat began to wind into a tightening coil that she had never felt before. She clung to him, the sound of his moans making her shiver, and she was gasping hotly, sweetly, crying out his name, her pleasure, her love. She wanted something that her untouched flesh did not understand, but somehow knew that Mitsuhide-san could give, and she kissed him fervidly, running her fingers through his hair, down his back, before they went about his neck.

The kisses upon her throat burned her with delicious fire from outside, just as he melted her from within, and she was moving in earnest now, writhing, struggling to keep still but not being able to help the gentle roll of her hips, the whimpering, keening cries that spilt from her lips.

“Love you!” she gasped, tossing her head back, feeling a building crescendo that she strove to catch, to follow, to plummet into. “M-Mitsuhide-san!”

He could feel himself sweating considerably now, long hair beginning to stick to his back as he moved, but he didn't care. The sheer pleasure he was feeling was all-consuming, and his utmost desire to give her that which she needed his only concern. With considerable passion he suckled the skin at her throat, breaking only to gasp when the need to became too much to resist.

"Ahhh... Megumi-SAN!" he cried out eventually, this time having to pull back from her throat.

It was building, building... the rub of his skin against hers, the feeling of being within her and moving inside of her... layer upon layer of pleasure, and he wasn't sure how long he would last. Trying to control his rapid breathing, he found her lips to kiss her again.

"Meg-!" he spluttured.

Her spine was beginning to bow beneath the pleasure, and she felt like she was tumbling, rushing towards something glorious and beautiful and all-consuming. The rasping cries and gasps that fell from her lips rose in pitch now, and she was rocking against him, tossing her head back, biting her lip, offering herself, everything, everything . . .

She kissed him passionately, her hands tracing his face, his hair, moaning into his mouth before breaking off in a cry as she teetered on an edge . . . the edge before the building, sweeping crescendo of . . .

“M-Mitsuhide-san!” It was a warbled outcry, as her thighs drew close to his hips, muscles tensing, back arching, almost there—

It was enough... her cry, her movement against him... combined with the layers of pleasure, it was inevitable that it should push him over the edge.

"Megumi-sannnnnn!"

That one, long, heated cry of her name accompanied the moment of his release, and the waves of pleasure running through his body hit cloud nine. That warm, beautiful, almost fuzzy feeling filled him completely, a form of total ecstacy filling his veins. It was a simply perfect moment. A moment anybody would wish could last eternally... but, of course, it could not.

Shaking his head as his mind came back to reality, he panted heavily, looking down at Megumi-san to check on her. The first thought that came to mind, as his thoughts cleared a little, was to check if she was okay.

"...Megumi-san? Are... you... are you... alright?" he whispered softly, take deep breaths.

Crying out his name, Megumi whimpered as her body grew taut—everything she knew teetered on an edge, and then she was clenching around him tightly, shuddering, gasping, writhing, as all the sensations coalesced and exploded into liquid fire and heat and ecstasy. She was shuddering around him, and it felt so, so good—shivers of sensation streaking through her and beneath her closed lids in a myriad of color, before everything inundated her and swept her under. Vaguely she could hear herself—the keening moan of his name, and her shaking breaths, and she was clutching him tightly, holding on to the one solid truth that held her fast as all grew soft and dark and quiet.

When she came to, she was almost stunned in the wake of it all, and everything was hazy and golden with languid bliss.

Catching her breath, she gazed at Mitsuhide-san with fathomless, glimmering eyes. She had no idea why, but tears had formed upon her lashes, and she blinked them away.

“I’m . . . alright,” she whispered softly, feebly, week with happiness and overtaken by the glow of their loving. “That was . . . wonderful,” she sighed sweetly, her voice wavering. “Thank you . . . Mitsuhide-san . . . I love you so much . . .”

She embraced him as tightly as she could, trembling.

Mitsuhide sighed, pleased, and embraced her just as tightly before laying her down and withdrawing. He kissed her lips before moving to the side, back against the bed once more. The warmth of the afterglow filled him head to toe, and he felt hazy and happy and full of sleepy joy.

"I love you too Megumi-san," he whispered, pulling her to him. "I'm glad..."

He certainly didn't feel bad at all anymore. The previous day's event seemed like a strange, distant dream. What reason would he have to do that, even cursed, when he knew love like this?

"Thank you... thanks..."

She snuggled up to him, blissful, languorous warmth suffusing her. She brushed a light, lingering kiss upon his lips before settling back down into the circle of his arms, admiring him with half-lidded eyes that shone with love and joy and contentment.

She could feel her heartbeat, and his heartbeat upon her cooling skin as she cuddled up against him. It was an affirmation of the life that they had long begun to share with one another, a life that she intended to keep living, for him, and with him, with all of her—whatever it took.

“I’m . . . so happy . . .” Megumi murmured, raising a hand to stroke his cheek lightly before closing her eyes. “Love you . . . Always . . .”

A tiny, demure yawn, and she was sliding into slumber, safe and happy in his embrace.

Everything was just perfect.

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