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Sakura walked through the soaked streets of Tokyo, mini black dress clinging to her frame. She had just received the prestigious Surgeon of the Year award and was out celebrating with her until the weather had derailed her plans. Now here she is—
Walking home.
Alone.
In the pouring rain.
As she approached her high-rise residential building, Ino's words echoed in her mind.
Sakura had devoted her life entirely to her career but tonight was different. Tonight, she found herself wondering what it might be like to dabble in the kind of reckless pleasure her friends always raved about.
Flashback to earlier that evening
"Come on, Forehead, live a little! When's the last time you were with someone who wasn't battery-operated?" Ino gestured wildly with her wineglass, almost spilling the contents.
Sakura choked on her drink. "PIG! Keep your voice down!" She glanced around to see if anyone heard. "I don't have time for anymore commitments. I've been dealing with trauma cases every day, and I need a clear mind for that."
"I'm not talking about marriage proposals here." Ino rolled her azure eyes and leaned back in her chair. "I'm saying let someone help you 'release' some of that stress you've been carrying. Your assistant tells me you've been bitchy lately and taking it out on the poor staff."
Green's eyes widened at the statement. "In my defense, I haven't had a day off in over a week. Secondly, I'm literally running on fumes right now.." She sighed. "But I apologized! They all got extra vacation days to make up for it... I just need a little time to recover, that's all."
"What you need is some D-I-C— "
"Stoppp!" She hissed, grabbing the blonde's wrist before she could finish spelling it out.
"Oh, come on, you can't tell me you haven't thought about it," Ino took another swig of the red liquid.
"I have! But I don't even know where to start with... that." She let go, looking down. "The last three guys I asked out all gave me the 'better as friends' speech." Her voice grew smaller. "I keep getting rejected, and I can't figure out why."
"Are you lookinf for Mr. Perfect or something?" Ino eyed her with suspicion.
"What? No! I just haven't gotten around to finding someone who's interested, that also meets my criteria. When I do, they want nothing to do with me."
Ino's palm slammed against the bar table with a sharp thud, rattling their drinks. "That's cause you're asking them on dates . Most guys don't want the pressure of a relationship right away. They just want a good fuck, and you're giving off serious 'looking-to-settle-down' energy."
"What's wrong with wanting to settle down?" Sakura muttered with a pout.
"Nothing, but right now isn't the time for that." Ino leaned forward conspiratorially. "You're young! You should be projecting 'meet-me-in-the-bedroom' vibes instead. Y'know, considering your... 'situation'. Some guys get nervous about being someone's first because they assume you'll get clingy."
She paused, eyeing Sakura knowingly. "Which, let's be honest, you probably would."
Sakura glared at her. "That's not true."
"Calm down. It's not an insult, it's human nature. Plus, you get wayyy to emotional. It's cute, but it's also why you need someone who can teach you the difference between a casual hookup and emotional investment." Ino's expression turned sly. "Someone like that gorgeous neighbor of yours."
"Absolutely not!" Sakura's hands flew up, nearly knocking over her cocktail. "He was one of the rejections, remember? I humiliated myself enough already." There was a slight rise in her tone. "After all the courage I worked up to ask him out—on YOUR advice, by the way. He STILL friend-zoned me."
"That was before you two started your little dates. Maybe he changed his mind." She shrugged, finishing off her wine.
"They're not 'dates', He was very clear on that." Sakura's shoulders sagged and she let out a tired sigh. "We finally have a good dynamic where he trusts me to keep things normal between us. I won't risk ruining that because of my hormones. I'm not that desperate."
Ino studied her friend's face, then grabbed her hands. "Listen to me, Forehead. You are smart, accomplished, and HOT. Any man would be lucky to have you. But you need to change your approach." She squeezed tighter. "Don't ask him out. Tell him you want to celebrate your award and see what happens. Y'know, keep it 'casual'" she finished with air quotes.
"What if it gets awkward? We live across from each other." Sakura scanned the bustling restaurant for other potential targets before turning back to Ino. "Besides, the women he goes for all look like they've stepped out of Vogue magazines. I doubt I'll stand a chance."
"Oooh! That means he knows what he's doing if he's bagging supermodels." Ino clapped her hands together excitedly. "Perfect for what you're looking for. Does he know about your... unpopped cherry?"
Sakura's face crumpled. "Yes. The guy's pretty intuitive. He says it's not appealing to him..."
Ino's expression shifted, a mischievous glint entering her eyes as she sat back and crossed her arms. "Well, we'll have to work on that. Here's what you need to do..."
End Flashback
Ino's wrong, Sakura thought as she crossed the marble lobby. I don't need sex. I just need some rest. That's right. I have the day off tomorrow, no appointments, my place is clean, errands are done… YES! I can finally sleep in! She gushed to herself before pressing the elevator button, swaying on her heels.
The steel doors slid open with a soft chime. When she stepped in, the mirrored walls reflected her disheveled state—smudged mascara, hair darkened by rain, dress sticking to the curves she usually kept hidden beneath scrubs and lab coats. She looked different. Wilder.
Damn. Ino's right, I DO look good. Maybe I should shoot my shot again after all.
The elevator stopped on her floor with a gentle ping. She stepped out and glanced toward the end of the hall where his large penthouse entrance stood in the shadows. No light escaped from the cracks at the bottom.
He works most nights, so he's probably not home right now.
Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she made her way down the hall, leaving droplets in her wake. Those erotic novels she'd been reading had filled her head with unrealistic fantasies of the man next door in ways that were probably unhealthy.
Her head quickly shook side to side, trying to reel her imagination back in.
What's the worst that could happen? He rejects me, I move to a different country and never have to see him again. No big deal, right? At least I could tell Ino I tried.
Before she could overthink it, she lifted her hand and knocked softly. What are the chances he'll even answer?
The sound seemed to echo on forever. Her heart hammered against her ribs as seconds stretched into minutes. She was shaking, whether from the AC hitting her soaked dress or from pure nervousness, she couldn't tell.
Just as she'd decided he wasn't home and started to turn away, she heard the soft click of the lock disengaging.
The door swung open, and she forgot how to breathe.
.
.
.
Satoru Gojo stood in front of her like something out of a fever dream. Shirtless, with sleep-tousled white hair falling across his forehead. His pale skin seemed to glow underneath the light, and those piercing blue eyes that were usually hidden behind dark sunglasses were fixed on her with startling intensity.
Her gaze traveled involuntarily from his eyes to his broad shoulders down to the defined planes of his torso, following the subtle V that disappeared into his low-slung gray sweatpants. When she finally managed to drag her eyes back to his face, she found him watching her with obvious amusement.
The sound of him clearing his throat snapped her back to reality. "You okay?" he asked, leaning casually against the doorframe. His biceps flexing as he crossed his arms.
His simple question seemed to shatter her hypnosis. "I—sorry, I..." She stammered, redness flooding her cheeks. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I should go…" but her feet remained glued in place. "Actually…" she trailed off, seeming to gather herself. "I was wondering..."
A long pause stretched between them.
"Use your words, Sakura."
She swallowed hard, "I'm not here to talk."
He raised a single white eyebrow. "Oh? Then what brings you here at this hour?"
Uncertainty began melting away, replaced by a courage she'd rarely felt.
"...I want you to fuck me." The cursed sentence escaped before she could stop it.
.
.
.
The silence that followed was deafening.
She watched as a dozen emotions flickered across his face—surprise, caution, maybe interest?—before settling into careful neutrality.
"That's one way to start a conversation," he said, breaking the silence.
He studied her for a second, then pushed himself off the door. Hands moving to cup her face. His thumb wiping away a raindrop from her cheek. "Sakura," he whispered, "you look beautiful right now. But that's not a good idea."
"I didn't ask for your opinion." The brazenness felt foreign to her. "I won an award tonight and I'm asking you to be a good neighbor..."
She stepped forward until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "By helping me celebrate..." She pressed her icy fingertips to his chest, satisfied when his breath hitched. "…with a little fun."
Satoru's POV
He shouldn't be entertaining this, but curiosity got the better of him. He wrapped his large hand around hers, pulling it away, then leaned down close enough to catch her scent. "Are you drunk?"
"No." she said with an uncharacteristic calm.
He let her go and took a step back. "This isn't you, Sakura. Go home."
"No." she said again.
For some reason, her refusal was stirring up his primitive side. Tempting him to give into her request. But he pushed the thought away. He doesn't eat where he sleeps. "Unfortunately, I'm not interested in what you have to offer. Sorry."
He moved to close the door, but she blocked him midway. A devilish shine gleamed in his blue eyes. How bold.
"I have nothing to offer you. I'm here for what you can offer me." Her voice remained steady despite the slight tremor in her hands. "This doesn't have to mean anything. Just treat me like one of your girls for a night. No strings attached...Or I can ask the guy at the bar. Either way, I'm getting what I want."
Satoru tilted his head, the ghost of a smirk played at his lips. "Is that supposed to convince me?"
"A gentleman wouldn't send his innocent neighbor to a random stranger, would he?" she baited.
He narrowed his eyes. Is she bluffing? This was the woman who blushed like a schoolgirl and stuttered whenever she saw him. There was no way she was planning a one-night stand—it's not possible. She's too disgustingly pure.
Sakura POV
"Let me remind you, I'm an asshole." he admitted.
"I can handle it." She straightened, aware of how he was checking out her form.
"I don't think you understand." He looked at her with a warning. "I'm not gentle. You know what that means, right?"
"I do."
"I could hurt you."
Images flashed through her mind. The women on his arms all had black and blue marks peeking through their skimpy skirts. Some tried to cover with makeup, but she always noticed it. However, there was also one other thing they all had in common: that well-fucked glow she was after.
"I might like it," she shot back, tired of being underestimated because of her appearance.
He sighed in resignation, causing her confidence to waver for a split second. "I'm not doing this with you, Sakura."
Without breaking eye contact, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number, putting it on speaker. A masculine voice came through, "Hey, sexy. I was beginning to think you were gonna ghost me."
This must have triggered something, because Satoru stared at her with a wicked grin before he reached over and ended the call with a decisive tap, stepping aside to let her pass.
"Come in."
Satoru's POV
He couldn't believe he was about to agree to this. There was a method to his madness. He didn't sleep with friends, coworkers, or anyone in his day-to-day routine. That included the pink-haired girl next door. His boundaries kept his life uncomplicated.
He was supposed to have the whole top floor to himself, but the building owner made a mistake and let her move in last year. At the time, she seemed harmless enough, so he allowed her to continue renting the small apartment across from his without raising a fuss.
At some point between then and now, she confessed to having a crush on him. Which was expected. He was aware of the effect he had on the opposite sex. She took it pretty well when he turned her down, and they rarely crossed paths after that, with him teaching during the day, exorcising curses at night, and traveling between missions. Her schedule was almost worse than his. But they'd run into each other a few months ago, and he'd discovered she shared his appreciation for all things sugary. That's when he got to know her a little better and learned she was a renowned doctor in the civilian world. On the other hand, she didn't know of his profession, his power, or his reputation. To her, he was just the 'Satoru'. Best of all, she had zero expectations of him, and he preferred to keep it that way.
Until now.
Because here she was, standing in his living room in a little black dress, expecting something complicated.
He continued roaming over her features. She was pretty, with a decent figure, but there wasn't anything special about her appearance that would catch his attention. Even with that dress leaving little to the imagination, she seemed... average to him. Maybe a tad bit above average. Still, not enough to spark any genuine desire. Yes, she is attractive, but she just didn't attract him.
In spite of this, she was someone outside of the jujutsu realm that made him feel normal, so he couldn't let her get tainted by someone who would probably make her hate herself.
That's why he let her in.
He'd help her set high standards for future partners.
He was being a 'good neighbor' like she asked.
Sakura POV
The place smelled like him–sandalwood and cedar with hints of expensive cologne. Damn. He must get paid well, she noted as she looked around his space. His panoramic windows displayed a stunning view of the city, and everything from the marble countertops to the sleek furniture spoke nothing short of wealth and refined taste. I can't believe we live in the same building!
"You know," he broke her out of her reverie, handing her a large towel "I thought you were smarter than this."
"I am smart," she said, accepting the fluffy cloth.
She dropped her attempt at a seductive facade, reverting to her usual self as she began patting herself dry. "Which is why I'm here. I have a problem that needs solving."
"And sex is the answer?"
"Yes." She looked up at him. Her gaze dropped as she fisted the towel. "I wanna know what it's like..." eyes returning to his face, feeling another wave of confidence. "And what better way than to go to the expert himself."
He raised his eyebrow in question. "What makes you think I'm an expert at something like that?"
"People talk," she said casually, shrugging her shoulders.
She watched his jaw relax at her response. "This would be a one-time thing. You understand that, right? There's no cuddling or any of that romantic shit. I like you but I'm not into you."
"What kind of teacher only gives one lesson?" she retorted playfully, ignoring his last statement.
The air grew heavy between them as he gave her a hard look.
.
"...The kind who's very good at what he does." His drop in tenor made her pulse quicken. "Wait here."
When he returned seconds later with a length of black silk in his hands, the easygoing man had vanished, replaced by someone who walked with predatory grace. His electric blue eyes seemed to hold her captive, and she began to understand the spell he cast over women.
The atmosphere shifted the moment he advanced toward her. She watched as silver moonlight outlined his powerful physique, lips clamping shut to keep from drooling at the sight of him. A thrill shot down her core when he disappeared from her vision.
Something soft brushed her shoulder, dragging down her arm with a deceptive tenderness—like a hunter soothing a prey before going in for the kill.
"If you stay, you follow my lead without question." The smooth silk glided around her neck. "So, this is your last chance..." he dared her. "Walk away now, and I'll pretend this never happened. I'll even buy you lunch tomorrow."
She let out a shaky breath at the subtle touches. "I'm staying."
His tone darkened. "Pick a word. Something you'd never normally say. Use it and everything stops immediately."
"I know what a safe word is," she said, irritation creeping into her voice.
He made a disapproving sound. "We'll have to address that attitude." He settled the silky satin over her eyes. "Your word?"
"Dandelion."
Darkness enveloped her as he tied it tightly behind her head.
"Perfect…" he whispered.
.
With her sight gone, her other senses sprang to life. She could smell the mint on his breath, hear the swish of his sweatpants, the distant sound of rain hitting the glass. The tiny hairs on her body became hyperaware of every tiny sensation, every shift in temperature, and every hint of his presence.
"The thing about being inexperience," his words pierced through her trance, "…is you won't realize what you're missing. You'll mistake average for exceptional because you lack comparison.." A feather-light touch grazed her shoulder blade before disappearing. "Most men are selfish creatures who think sex is all about them," he continued, circling around her. "They rush through foreplay and fail to see that arousal is a process, not a switch. Your body requires time to respond properly."
He stopped in front of her, grabbing her chin, "Sex is a wonderful type of art and your first time…" He leaned in close, mingling their breaths "…should be absolutely...mind-blowing..." He quickly pulled away, tone reverting to its normal pitch.
She shivered instinctively at the velvet promise in his voice.
"You're already responding, and I've barely touched you." The warmth against her back let her know he was behind her. His fingers landed on the zipper of her dress, "Did you know…"
Instead of undoing it, he just traced along its path with maddening slowness. "…that anticipation is half the pleasure?" His lips brushed her ear, fingertips playing with the small metal clasp. "I hope you're paying attention, Sa-Ku-Ra."
The way her name rolled off his tongue had her knees wobbling, "Y-yes."
The zipper finally descended, stopping every few inches to let cool air kiss her newly exposed skin. "How does that feel?"
"Frustrating," she let out as both straps slid down her arms. All the slow movement were making her impatient with want.
"Good." She could tell he was smiling.
The dress fell with a dampened thump, leaving her in nothing but tiny black lace panties, her perky breasts on full display for the world.
Vulnerability washed over her. Suddenly she was thinking about all his tall, curvaceous, beautiful women. Everything she wasn't. Her hands moved to cover her chest. Self-consciousness was starting to sink in her when warm, calloused hands grasped her wrists, pulling them away.
"It's very rude to be in your head while I'm out here," Satoru chided, bringing back to the present. "Focus only on me." He was in front of her again. "Mmm. Not bad. Better than I expected." He hummed. "Looks like you have something to offer after all." The hunger in his tone made all her doubts fade away.
She sensed him step away briefly before returning. "Hold out your hands." She did as she was told and felt leather tightening around her wrists.
"Can't have you interrupting me again." Two fingers danced beneath her jaw as he stood behind her. "Where were we…oh my, your pulse is racing." He feigned surprise. "And your skin is flushed from here..."
His touch traced down her collarbone. "To here…"
Then lower, to the valley between her cleavage. "Down to here," settling on her hips, pulling her round ass closer to him. "This is what arousal looks like," There was a roughness in his tone that sent a thrill through her. "Accept nothing less." He gave her a slight squeeze before drawing small circles on her hipbones, "Tell me," he whispered into her ear, "did you picture it like this when you fantasized about me?"
Her hidden eyes widened. How did he know?! She inhaled sharply when his tongue flicked out and drew her earlobe into his mouth, sucking it gently.
"No," she breathed out.
His voice took on that dangerous edge she'd glimpsed earlier. "...I'm going to ruin you for amateurs, Sakura."
.
This was pure torture. The way he spoke to her, the nearness of his breath, those lingering caresses. It was driving her insane with need.
"Satoru," she whined, rolling her hips into his. She needed to feel more of him before she exploded.
His teeth went to the junction between her neck and shoulder, and bit down hard enough to make her cry out in pain, pushing her hips away. "Stop." he ordered against her skin before leading her to the middle of his living room, where she no longer felt the hardwood beneath her feet. "Sit."
"But—" she began, worried about dirtying his expensive rug. He gave a small forceful tug to excess material on her blindfold, causing her head to tilt back sharply. Her nipples went stiff from excitement, wetness pooling in her panties at his warning. She kept her mouth shut as he guided her down onto the soft surface and seated himself behind her.
The large windows in front of them revealed the storm outside, but their reflection told a different story. In the glass, ambient lighting illuminated their forms, with him sitting against the couch, legs spread wide, and her nestled between his thighs, pressed against his chest.
Framed by the dark silk, her porcelain skin appeared almost ethereal, pink hair forming a gentle halo around her face while his arms wrapped around her like a serpent, one hand crossed over to settle possessively on her far hip as the other traced a slow path up her opposite side to rest at her throat. Blood rushed to his groin at the intimate sight.
"If only you could see my view right now," he purred, chin resting on her shoulder. "Comfortable?" he asked, tone softer now.
She nodded.
"Time for the fun part." His hand slid from her hip down along the smooth curve of her thigh, tracing lines across the plane of her skin. Massaging areas that drew out soft squeals from her lips. His other hand explored her breasts, cupping and kneading carefully.
She groaned as his knuckles drifted down to her calves, then back up her inner thigh, rubbing lazy patterns on her skin. She was so painfully aware of herself now. The openness of her body, the ache throbbing in her core, the weight of his gaze even though she couldn't see it.
"You're soaked," he whispered, almost amused.
"I–" Her voice cracked as she tried to apologize. Thighs pressing together to hide the shameful tell of how easily he got to her.
A light pinch on her knee startled her, "Open." he reprimanded.
She flinched at his coldness, then obeyed, slowly parting her legs, letting him run his the rough pads of his fingers through her body. Every second felt like hours in his arms, and she loved it.
"Thaaaat's it," he cooed, her heart fluttered at the sound of his approval. His mouth brushed her temple as he cupped her breast, thumb circling the peak in slow, teasing arcs. The other hand pressed against the thin lace covering her womanhood, fingers playing with the saturated fabric. "I want you to remember my fingers this the next time you touch yourself here." He found the sensitive bundle above her crest, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. She bit her lip, stifling a desperate sound as her hips twitched, craving more.
He must have read her mind because with a single finger, he hooked the fabric and pulled it aside, baring her to the cool air. Her inner walls clenched as he traced her slick folds. Each languid stoke left her trembling. She whimpered when he stopped. His fingers hovered just shy of her entrance, taunting her with their stillness. Every nerve in her body screamed for him to move, but she held herself rigid, afraid to shatter the moment.
"Tell me what you want me to do next, Sakura," he drawled lazily.
"Take it off." Her response was almost inaudible.
"What was that? I can't heaaar you." He sang lowly.
"Please," she begged, voice breaking. "Take. It. Off."
He took his time, slipping the thin piece of lace down her legs, fingertips dancing over her skin. Goosebumps forming as he drew past her knee and calves before tossing the garment aside.
"What else?" he prompted, eyes glinting with challenge as he stared at their reflection.
She swallowed before scooting into his lap, a rush of electricity traveled to her lower abdomen when she felt his erection. "Touch me." She breathed out.
"Like this?" His fingers circled her opening, moving to her clit with a light tap before retreating. He was playing coy, but she knew better.
"Yes. Like that." She groaned out, hips bucking to chase after his touch. But he was faster. Strong hands pinned her hips down. "Patience," he murmured, lips brushing against her ear. "We're going to make this last…" he ran his tongue over her pulse, nibbling on the sensitive flesh, "I’m going to make sure…" he growled, the sound vibrating through her "…to break you in the best way."
She was seconds from tearing free of her restraints, desperate to touch herself, when two fingers pierced through her in one smooth, unsuspecting motion, tearing a fervent moan from her lips. Every thrust, every twirl of his fingers had her body arching against his palm. His free hand tilted her chin up, lips brushing the corner of her mouth in a fleeting kiss. He continued circling and strumming, playing her like a musical instrument, the outside thunder absorbing her loud cries.
"You can come..." he whispered, voice low. "...But only when I say."
Her breath was a mess of gasps and inhales as he traced over her pearl with the pad of his finger. It was like he could feel how close she was and purposefully kept her just below it. "That's right…" he breathed into her neck. "Let that pressure build inside you," he murmured.
Her breath hitched, "It's… too much—"
"It's exactly enough."
Her walls began clenching around his digits, "Kami, you're tight," he groaned softly. She whimpered again as her body started convulsing. "Hold it." He commanded.
A sob escaped her lips. "I can't—"
"You will." he snarled, fingers curling expertly inside her.
His pace quickened, palm pressing harder as he angled each stroke to hit her perfectly. Her body sang with sensations she'd never known—lightning, heat, and ecstasy all rolled into one.
"Now!" he roared quietly.
Her climax swept through her like wildfire, consuming her soul. Her legs shook, clear warmth spilling over his fingers as he coaxed her through every quivering pulse until she collapsed in the cradle of his arms. He eased out of her slowly, resting her head on his naked chest, hands brushing wet strands from her face. The soft register of his voice brought her down from her high, "You did so well, Sakura." Her lips parted, but no words came out. His touch lingered, tracing soothing circles along her waist. "But we're not done."
He undid the bindings from her wrists, letting her hands fall heavily to her sides. She felt boneless, needing a moment to recover. But Satoru had other plans.
In one fluid motion, he slid an arm beneath her knees and scooped her up. She pressed her face into the warm curve of his neck. His musky scent stirring up the familiar excitement. She listened to the echo of his footsteps as he carried her to a room, laying her on sheets that cooled her flushed skin. Her heightened senses caught every one of his exhales and every shift of his muscles but it wasn't enough. She wanted to see him. She reached to remove the blindfold, but his hand caught her wrist and guided it back down. "Ah ah ah. That stays."
Disappointment was beginning to fill her chest when she felt him hover above her, his nose traced her collarbone, before moving lower, leave butterfly kisses from her sternum to her navel, pausing every few seconds to test her reactions.
Heat bloomed along her skin as he kissed his way back up to her neck, teeth grazing just enough to make her shiver.
He inhaled deeply, voice turning husky, "You smell different when you're turned on."
The tip of his nose trailed downwards again, lingering between her breasts, before he pulled back and softly blew on her peaked nipple. She cried out as he closed his lips around it, applying slight suction making her squirm.
Her hands fisted the sheets as he continued flicking his tongue, her legs shifting to wrap around his broad torso, but he pinned her thighs apart, a firm squeeze reminding her to behave.
His mouth moved to her other breast, repeating the same action. One hand massaged the abandoned mound, kneading gently, while the other caressed her waist. Each touch sent electricity racing through her. Her breaths grew shallow, heat pooling low in her belly. Without thinking, her hand flew to his hair, fingers threading through the pale strands.
He froze. Sharp teeth bit down in punishment before he pulled back. "I didn't say you could touch," he snapped with an icy tone, and she realized she'd crossed an invisible line. "Do that again, and I'll have to tie you up. Understand?"
She nodded, heart pounding with guilt. But relief flooded over her when he parted her legs and returned to her body. His lips trailed along her ribs, her stomach, and stopping beneath her belly button, voice turning deceptively innocent. "Should I go lower?"
"Yes," she breathed.
"Here?" His lips moved down barely an inch.
"No—lower," she pleaded.
"Oh! You mean here?" he teased again, nibbling at the apex.
"Damn it, Satoru," she'd had enough. "Please, I need you INSIDE me."
A soft chuckle rumbled from him. "If you insist."
He descended below her opening, then licked upward in one long, firm stroke. The warmth of his tongue tracing every soft contour between her folds until he reached the small bundle of nerves sitting at the top. He kissed it tenderly before closing his lips around it and tugging with just enough force to send a wave of pleasure rolling up her body. A cry tore from her throat, as her hips bucked. His arm hooked around her thighs, pinning them on his shoulders, keeping her from squirming. His tongue swept over her again, slower, deeper, until she was whimpering mess. His warm mouth enveloped her whole core, tongue teasing with sharp flicks against her clit before delving into deep, probing thrusts, tasting her entire being.
The warm pressure coiled tight inside her. She was teetering on the edge ready to let go. Her hand moved to his hair again, pushing his face further into her heat, desperate for that sweet release. "Satoru!!" she screamed, waiting to feel intoxicating ecstasy for the second time that night.
But in an instant, he disappeared, leaving her empty. Panic flared in her chest as she reached to uncover her eyes, stammering, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" Before she could finish, soft ropes were wrapped tightly around her wrists, tying her arms to the headboard above her head. The bed dipped as he sank into his original spot, warm hands gliding up her calf, "Who knew you're so bad at following instructions," he murmured, leaning down.
Instead of picking up where he left off, his lips found the delicate curve of her ankle, pressing a light kiss on the bone. A shiver ran up her legs as he trailed higher, nipping the tender skin behind her knee, coaxing a quiet hum from her throat. Her stomach twisted as he continued his slow ascent, tasting every inch until he reached the edge of her stomach. His tongue was dancing everywhere excepted for where her heat pulsed. She lifted her hips to his mouth, urging to be claimed again. Her bounded arms yanked at the ropes, the force splintering the headboard with a quiet crack. He held her down, "Sakura," He warned with a bruising squeeze.
Her yelp melted into a groan, desire outweighing the sting.
Finally, his sweet mouth returned to her core, tongue sliding through her folds, collecting her essence as he devoured her, drawing a ragged gasp. He sucked her sensitive bud, lips and tongue working in tandem, sending sparks up her spine. Her hands strained against the ropes as she thrashed, hips rolling into his face.
A low moan vibrated through her when she found the perfect angle, intensifying the heat. But he lifted his head, his breath teasing her skin, "Hold still, or I stop."
"N-no," she protested, voice thick with need.
"Then behave." He muttered roughly.
He dove back in, tongue plunging deep, circling her clit. Every few strokes, he'd pause to blow cool air across her swollen flesh, the contrast making her shudder. The pressure built, spiraling tighter until she was trembling, thighs quaking around his shoulders.
"Remember, only when I say," he reminded. She nearly sobbed at the impossible rule.
His mouth covered her entrance again, tongue pressing, sliding in and out, sucking relentlessly until her world exploded from blind pleasure. Juices squirted rapidly into his face as her orgasm crashed through her. She cried out, tears seeping into the blindfold as her legs clamped around his head, holding him in place. He continued lapping at her, savoring every drop until she went limp on his shoulders.
He kissed her glistening flesh one last time before climbing up her body, "You came without my permission," he chastised.
"Guess I'm 'bad with instructions'," she repeated his previous words. His laugh rumbled low in his chest as he leaned down. "Wanna know how you taste?" he asked, his voice edged with heat.
She nodded mutely. She’s been wanting to kiss this man since the day they met and now she was finally getting her chance!
He hovered over her, breath warm and tantalizing. She tilted her head up and ready to taste him.
.
He ghosted his lips against her bottom one…
.
And then... he breathed out...
.
"…I don't kiss naughty girls..."
Her jaw dropped in disbelief. "What are yo—" but he slipped back inside her sensitive cavern, cutting off her sentence and causing her to moan out instead, body still twitching from the second orgasm. He withdrew the glistening finger and traced it along her lips. "But you do taste like you look. Sweet."
A mischevious thought crossed her mind when she felt his fingers. Her tongue darted out and drew it into her mouth, sucking firmly, gliding her tongue along its length to provoke him.
His sharp intake of breath sent satisfaction blooming through her chest. In an instant, he dropped his hips and grounded into hers, the bulge in his pants pressing at her entrance. "You minx." he accused before reaching up to untie the rope, thumb brushing the inside of her wrist, "You can touch me for this next part."
"I… I don't think I can—" she stammered. Her pussy was still throbbing from overstimulation and a part of her worried about taking that irreversible step with him.
"Do you remember your safe word?" he asked softly, caressing her cheeks. Breaking his spell to reassure her he would never force her to do anything without consent.
He's letting me back out...
Satoru Gojo—the man who helped her move in and recommended the best places to eat. The man who does her favors and brings her thoughtful souvenirs from his trips. The same man who smiled at her in passing but rejected her honestly instead of playing with her emotions. Who warned her he was a playboy with no interest in commitment, instead of taking advantage of her emotions.
This was the man who made her heart flutter with his boyish grin, who dropped off dinner during her late shifts and tried new restaurants with her on lazy afternoons. The man she'd fantasized about nightly, whose mere presence had awakened desires she never knew existed.
Tonight, he'd taken her in and complied with her demands when he could have easily turned her away. He'd stopped her from sleeping with a stranger, choosing instead to give her his undivided attention. He'd helped her discover the joy of being controlled and praised, that being bounded excited her in ways she couldn’t imagined.
Satoru Gojo had ensured she experienced nothing but pure bliss, showing her pleasures she'd only read about in books, without asking for anything in return.
If anyone was going to make her first time unforgettable, it would be him—her neighbor, her friend, the man who'd somehow become everything she didn't know she needed.
"Fuck me." she ordered, confidence replacing her earlier nerves.
His low chuckle dripped in sin, "Keep talking like that and I'll do more than fuck you." a bolt ran up her spine at his threat.
She heard him get up and discard his trousers, then came the crinkling sound of foil tearing. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. The bed shifted as he parted her knees and settled between them. His hand reached down, inspecting her with a pleased hum. "Still very wet." He covered her with his body, arms caging her in. Then she felt him. Thick and hard, resting against her inner thigh. "You know what's coming, right? You might feel some discomfort."
"I know…" she whispered.
His hand moved, guiding himself to her heat. Dragging his smooth crown up and down her slick folds, coating them both in her essence, each drag sent jolts through her. Her fingers reached up, clutching his back, nails pressing into his skin as he eased forward carefully. His swollen tip breaching her. A soft whimper escaped and he stilled instantly.
"We can stop if you want." His voice was patient.
"Keep going."
He murmured, "As you wish."
He eased into her slowly, inch by inch, giving her time to adjust to his size. "You're doing great," he breathed out softly. When she flinched in pain, his lips brushed her forehead soothingly. She pulled him closer, biting his shoulder to stifle a scream. The stretch was almost unbearable. Tears welled in her eyes as he tore past her barrier but continued whispering sweet nothings into her ears, waiting for her pain to subside. When she lifted her hips, to push him, he let out a low, restrained groan. "Fuck…" pressing forward until he was fully sheathed.
"Oh my god…" she uttered breathlessly, overwhelmed by the fullness. She began grinding her hips, wanting more but he didn't give in. Instead, he just held her in place. "Stay still," he hissed through gritted teeth.
Then he began to move—slow, deliberate thrusts, letting her feel the slide of every ridge, twitch, and vein that was him. Her moans filled the room as she wrapped her legs around his torso, her body stretching to accommodate his size and he picked up his pace. The sound of his ragged breathing was enough to for her to release the waterfall that was filling up insider her.
His rhythm changed as lifted her thigh higher, deepening the penetration. "I want you to cum around my dick," he said, voice above her lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, body trembling as the warmth surged. And she did as she was told. The climax tore through her, a raw cry spilling from her lips as she tightened around him, pulsing intensely. He slowed, letting her catch her breath, whispering, "Good girl." The two words had her clenching her walls tighter.
"Did you finish?" she asked softly, making a small sound when he withdrew.
He chuckled at her innocent question, "Don't worry about me. Tonight's all about celebrating you." he said softly before his demeanor changed.
.
"Kneel and face away from me," he instructed. Sakura shifted onto her knees, the mattress yielding beneath her weight. Her body still thrummed with the aftershocks of her recent climax, her skin still flushed and sensitive.
His fingers traced a slow path up the back of her neck, threading into her hair. He gathered a fistful at the roots and tugged gently, making her breath hitch. With a slight force, he pushed her face down onto the pillow, her cheek sinking into its softness, nose drowning in his scent.
He drew her hips back to him and leaned down, planting slow kisses down the middle of her back, his next words sent a chill down her spine… "Can you handle a little pain, Sakura?"
"…Yes," she breathed, anticipation coiling in her belly.
She listened to the faint, wet noise as he lubricated himself, before rubbing his length along her swollen cavern, wedging her open with his engorged tip. She hissed, still raw from his earlier ministrations, her fingers twisting into the sheets, biting down on her lip to keep from crying. He moved gradually at first, letting her acclimate, until a soft moan escaped her, muffled against the pillow. Her hips began rocking to meet his, finding a rhythm that lit the familiar fire in her core.
She loved the way he yanked on her hair every time she squeezed her walls around him. And the way he dug into her hips, forcing her to match his tempo. His breaths grew heavier, a quiet grunt slipping out, and it spurred her on. She swayed her hips faster, wanting to feel him lose control but his fingers tightened in response and he released her hair. A sharp smack landed on her ass, the fiery sting blooming across her skin. She yelped in half-surprise, half-pleasure.
His calloused hands slid up her spine, wrapping possessively around the front of her neck and pulled her up to his chest, her skin meeting the hard planes of his body. "Did I say you could change the pace?" he growled, squeezing her throat lightly as his teeth bit into her shoulder, coaxing a breathless, "No!"
He pushed her forward, breaking their connection, and flipped her onto her back with a fluid motion. She gasped as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and thrust into her roughly, each stroke, had her chanting his name. Her body tightened around him, pressure rising with every movement. His hand pinned her wrist above her head, while the other supported her leg, driving his cock repeatedly into her the spot that drove her wild.
"Come for me," he ordered, his thrusts becoming almost violent as he continued claiming her.
The white-hot release had her screaming out in pleasure, her inner walls clenching around him, milking his own release. A guttural groan rumbled from his chest as he buried himself completely, hands bruising her in the process. She felt his warmth flood the latex barrier inside her, each twitch of his member was met with another squeeze of her walls until he pulled out of her, leaving her sated yet empty.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Rest now," he murmured, and she smiled as exhaustion finally won.
Satoru POV
He disposed of the used condom and glanced at the clock. 3:00 AM—the bewitching hour, which probably explained how he'd gotten himself into this mess in the first place.
Looking over at Sakura's sleeping form sprawled across his bed, he shook his head. She was snoring lightly, worn out from their encounter, her eyes still covered. Her pink hair was plastered to her face with sweat, but she looked content.
For a moment, he considered waking her so she could return to her own apartment, but she looked so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb her. He knew how demanding her job was—it reminded him of the bags under Shoko's eyes, and he'd rather not see that same fatigue on Sakura. So he decided she can stay but he'd clean her up first. If she woke during the process, he'd tell her to leave. But there was no way he was letting her lie there in her own mess.
He went into the bathroom to rinse himself off, then returned with a damp towel. He removed the blindfold, then brushed the strands away from her skin before cleaning off the evidence of their activities. She didn't stir, her breathing remained even. She's a heavy sleeper, he thought, smirking. Perfect. After he finished wiping her down, he could move her to her own bed and have his space back. It might seem extreme but he doesn't like sleeping near anyone. So he went to unlock her apartment with the spare key she'd given him, then came back and carried her across the hall and placed her onto her mattress, covering her with a blanket.
Yeah… I should've told her no. What was I thinking… He thought as he took one last look at her and shook his head.
The Next Day
To say she ached was an understatement.
Sakura woke up in her own bed, which was the first confusing thing, because she remembered falling asleep in Satoru's bed. The second was the dull pain radiating through her entire body. Muscles she didn't even know she had were protesting every small movement. The third was that she was completely naked under her own comforter.
She sat up slowly, wincing as sharp reminders of the night before shot through her core. Fragments of memory came flooding back—Satoru's hands, his mouth, the way he'd made her body sing in ways she'd never imagined possible.
How did I get here?
She stumbled to the bathroom, catching sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair a complete mess, lips swollen, and small bruises decorating her body with a large red hand print on her ass. The reflection stirring up heated memories.
He moved me here, she realized, it was nice of him but also... disappointing...
She frowned. No awkward morning after or pillow talk and cuddles. Just wake up in her own space like it never happened.
Do we go back to being cordial neighbors? Friends? UGHHHHH. I don't think I can even look at him without thinking of what his TONGUE can do.
After a hot shower that helped ease some of the stiffness, she wrapped herself in her softest robe and padded to the kitchen. Her phone showed three missed texts from Ino:
"How did last night go??? Need details!"
"Please tell me you didn't chicken out"
"If you don't answer me in the next hour I'm coming over"
Sakura stared at the messages, unsure how to respond. How did I even begin to explain what had happened? That Satoru Gojo had systematically taken me apart and put me back together again? That he'd been right? That I'm now thoroughly ruined for amateurs? That he tasted every part of me except for my lips...That despite telling him this is a one-time favor, I still wanted more?
She sighed, feeling defeated, and headed to the kitchen for coffee and froze. On her counter sat a small bag that wasn't there yesterday. She approached it with caution. Inside she found a bottle of high-end painkillers, a heating pad, some anmitsu, and a container of her favorite soup. There was also a small note in neat handwriting:
For the soreness. Take two with food. – Your good neighbor.
Despite everything, she found herself smiling at his antics. His thoughtfulness was one of the things she liked about him. As she heated up the soup, she couldn't help but wonder if this was his standard post-hookup protocol or if he'd made a special trip just for her.
Not that it mattered, she reminded herself. He'd made it clear not to read too much into his actions.
So why did the thought of returning to their normal platonic routine suddenly feel so...inadequate?
Satoru's POV
He woke up around 7AM, which was later than normal but understandable given the night's activities. After his usual morning routine, he found himself restless. The apartment still smelled like Sakura. He grimaced. This is exactly why he didn't bring women to his space. He didn't like having anything of theirs left behind. No bobby pins, no stray hairs, no reminders of their presence the next morning.
Work stayed at work. Women stayed in hotels. His home stayed his own.
He needed to clear his head, so he went on a run to release some frustration. Along the way he passed a convenience store and realized Sakura might need some aftercare supplies. Despite his casual approach to relationships, he wasn't a complete jerk. She came four times last night, she might be waking up in some pain. It was the least he could do, considering she'd probably never find another partner quite like him.
.
When he knocked on her door and got no response, he let himself in, placed everything on her kitchen counter, and left as quietly as he'd entered.
.
Later that afternoon, he'd called up one of his favorites for lunch. Mai. She was pretty, smart, and witty. A seductress in bed, who knew just how to press his buttons. She'd been her usual charming self, distracting him for a few hours and inviting him to her condo for some dessert, but he found himself declining. Still bothered by his compromised space.
He'd spent the rest of the afternoon getting his place back to normal. New sheets, new headboard, new rug. By nightfall, his penthouse looked exactly as it had before Sakura ever set foot inside. Now, with everything restored to its original state, he found himself with an entire evening free. An entire evening to replay last night's events.
He'd held back considerably because it was her first time, but part of him wanted to show her so much more. Wanted to see how far he could push her limits, wanted to see the look on her face as she learned what made her fall apart. He didn't miss the way she'd responded when he marked her, or how she'd reacted when he pulled her hair. She would have been an entertaining bedmate. It's too bad he'd already categorized her. Shifting their arrangement was dangerous. Sakura was the type who got attached easily; he could tell from the way she'd looked at him, the way she'd spoke his name. Getting more involved would only hurt her when she realized he'd never commit. Either way, she was going to get hurt, whether by his indifference or his enemies. So, he pushed thoughts of her to the back of his mind.
Maybe I should see Mai tonight. Someone who understood him.
He reached for his phone, but before he could dial...
There was a soft knock at his door...