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Rinse and repeat. Licking his wounds just after you dab salt all over them. Takeomi was sure his young wife was delivered from hell to torment his already tattered soul. Sweet and naive they said… You were anything but naive and sweet. Well, perhaps you were once.
A spawn of Satan? Maybe. A temptress out to enchant every man and woman? He sure hit the nail on this one. But to describe you as innocent, loving and everything soft this world had to offer? Takeomi might have married the wrong woman because you weren’t the angel everyone thought you would be.
Not when his wife is out here flirting with her own brother-in-law in front of his other colleagues without shame. Cheeks flushed and lips in an ever-present smile while chatting with the younger Akashi brother, fingers tracing the outer rim of the champagne glass you had in your hand. Lashes fluttering akin to butterflies of spring and giggling melodic tunes as if he wasn’t sitting across you.
However, he wouldn’t be one to ruin the mood and voice out his thoughts about you bumping shoulders with Sanzu. Who was he to speak when your marriage is only true on paper?
“Is this allowed, though?” Ran mumbled to him, lavender hues trained on your form leaning too close to Sanzu, manicured fingers digging into the pink-haired man’s arm, to be seen as normal camaraderie. “Wouldn’t anyone who knows about your marriage see this as… inappropriate?” The last word coming out more of a whisper, Ran averted his gaze when you met his eyes. As if challenging him to continue his statement.
Takeomi stiffened in his seat, fists clenching and unclenching slowly as you merely regarded him with a fleeting glance before returning to Sanzu, resuming the honeyed expression you had earlier. If he had to listen to his irrational side, he would’ve pulled you out of your seat and left the restaurant without a single explanation to the rest of the executives present tonight. What was there to explain though? He was your husband and you, his wife, had no business feeling up his younger brother’s arm, much less sit beside Sanzu when there was an empty seat next to him.
Takeomi was now convinced you were testing his thinning patience tonight on purpose—just like those other days…
“Where are you going?”
“Out.” Response clipped, you glanced at your reflection one last time before heading to the door. Dressed in a silk dress that you paired with heels, anyone could guess you were heading to a high-end place. And Takeomi suspected that you were going to see someone—another man.
Your hand failed to reach the knob when Takeomi grabbed you by the arm, halting you from stepping further. Raising an eyebrow at him, you tilted your head in question. The corners of your red lips curled up. “Yes? Is there something wrong, honey?”
“Where exactly is ‘out’?” Pulling back, he crossed his arms across his chest. Brows furrowed in curiosity and frustration. When you scoffed, refusing to elaborate more, his irritation grew. “[Y/N], if you don’t tell me how am I supposed to—”
“I fail to see how it’s your business.” He might have seen your retaliation as you always made it a goal to bite back, but he wasn’t used to your cold tone nor how you seemed apathetic. He wondered where the feisty young wife he came to know went. Dare he not admit it… He missed your constant rambling and worried glances.
“What are you talking about—what do you mean it isn’t my business to know where my fucking wife is going?” Takeomi didn’t mean to raise his voice, regretting how you flinched back. But the indignation was there and you were not cooperating with him.
And then, after a long pause, you laughed bitterly.
“Wow. I’m impressed that you want to know.” Reaching for the knob once more, you pushed the door open and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “You may be my husband, Takeomi… But you have never acted nor have been one to me. You made that perfectly clear to me last time.”
Playing this dance for quite some time since that day, Takeomi was confused about what to do. Unable to figure out how this all started—you distancing yourself and having your own little world—he tried to retrace his steps and find out what he did for you to act this way. Figure out when and where he said he would never be a husband to you for he recalls no such thing.
An arranged marriage, it may have been, but Takeomi still had to take care of you. He promised your family as you did the same with his. And while it was a union he didn’t really care for other than to please his old-fashioned father from the start, you were a victim of it as much as he is. Thrust into married life with a man you barely knew and who was older, Takeomi was certain you hated him.
An exotic flower in a field of common roses—you were quite valuable to the family as you were in yours and Takeomi wanted to keep it that way. You, his beautiful young wife, a flower to be displayed and decorate his gloomy life. Too timid to even touch you and mar your soft petals. It was a miracle that the marriage was consummated, knowing you despised him and his company.
Hiding it with your small smiles, gestures of concern, and whatnot. The glint on the golden band around your finger shone brightly than your eyes. Even that night where he came home, wounded and bleeding heavily, he was sure you loathed his presence as you helped him into the bathroom to treat his wounds. Probably abhor how his cigarettes bleed and linger on his clothes, the bedroom, and in each strand of his hair you liked to comb. Convinced that you were sugarcoating your fondness for his scar, saying it didn’t matter and how he was still dashing because he was sure it looked ugly. You played the part so well he was almost made to believe you love him.
Until you decided to show your true poisonous hues. A true exotic flower of sin and deception indeed.
Rinse and repeat. You blew hot and cold—bewildering Takeomi from figuring out how you truly felt… But now, seeing you laugh at every joke Sanzu made, he knew you just hated him. And he hates how you give his younger brother the light of day while he remains in the dark. A mere shadow in your eyes.
It was driving him insane.
“Haru, I can’t imagine you playing golf. Must be quite a sight to see.” Breathily giggling at the mental image, your rosy cheeks appeared pinchable to the younger Akashi brother. Carefree and light, you suppose it was because of the alcohol in your system. The bottle of rice wine sitting next to the empty rice bowls. Light reflected faintly on the porcelain cups as the private area was reduced to a murmur, nicotine in the air. Takeomi continued to eye you and his brother, not daring to look away now that you’ve grown bolder every minute. Fingers running up Sanzu’s arm and up to his neck, peppering caresses on covered skin, inching closer to his collar.
In contrast to Takeomi’s view, you didn’t see Haruchiyo romantically. No, he was only a brother-in-law, and right now, someone you’re using to instigate a reaction out of your husband across the table.
Having grown to love the man, you thought Takeomi would feel the same way soon—you always did. But those days turned into months. Months turned into a year… You have grown weary of waiting for him to reciprocate such a love you yearned for. A love he vowed to give on your wedding day. Yet all you ever had was one night of having tepid sex and that was it.
Frustrated by the fragile outlook he had on you. Angry at his meek advances—as if you would crumble due to a single touch. And saddened that he never initiated again after the honeymoon.
You would have none of that to continue on until silver hairs akin to the color of Sanzu’s pistol littered your hair—you’d rather shoot yourself than allow it.
And frankly, so did Takeomi.
Silence spread around the table like wildfire, all eyes on you and your husband’s tight grip around your wrist. Lips in a thin line, you stared back at his displeased look. Without warning, Takeomi pulled you up from your seat, close to dragging you to his side as he regarded his colleagues—a stare too narrow when it befell on his own brother.
“It has been a pleasurable evening,” he stated curtly with a grunt. Sparing no second glances or an explanation to his boss, Takeomi dragged you with him towards the exit. Whimpers slipped your lips at his rough treatment, wincing at how he had a death grip on your wrist and how he disregarded how you almost tripped on your own heels. One goal in his mind and it was to bring you straight home—away from Bonten, away from Sanzu’s gaze. Away from any man who breathed the same air as you.
Although you were terrified that you may have gone too far, your pussy clenching in between your legs, damp with want, told a different story.
“You think I would allow you to humiliate me in that way?” His first question of the night, one of the many ones he might spill, fired across the hallway as you made your way to your shared bedroom that may as well be yours alone due to Takeomi’s constant absence due to the nature of his job. Surprise settled deep in your bones how he hasn’t grabbed you by the throat and demanded whether it was Haruchiyo you’ve been seeing secretly all this time. Each step you took weighed a ton, taking your ample time to see if this time the almighty god of war would crack.
“Humiliate you?” Echoing his words, you snorted softly at the air. “Whatever do you mean, honey? Why on earth would I ever dream of embarrassing my husband?”
“Glad to hear you still regard me as your husband after whoring yourself out to my own brother—Haruchiyo, of all people!”
Humming at his seething comment, you couldn’t help but nod teasingly. “Well, since you are barely a husband, perhaps I should whore myself out. Not only to Haru but to the rest of Bonten!” Turning to see Takeomi’s stunned expression, you smirked. “Maybe even let that young Haitani fuck a child into me while I’m at it—”
Eyes staring straight at the floor and the back of Takeomi’s long legs, your whole world was upside down when he hoisted you up to his back without a care. Feet carrying you and him to the bedroom with determination in every step he took. A squeak was what you elicited when he threw you on the bed, hair disheveled as you stared at your husband in astonishment. The retaliation died at the back of your throat upon seeing wrath and the ugly green monster kicking and screaming behind it all. Then, it clicked.
Takeomi was madly jealous.
A chuckle bubbled out of your mouth, shaking your head softly at the rare sight before you. Takeomi’s hardshell finally broke.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Keeping up with a biting tone, you murmured. “Scared that it’ll hurt your reputation? That your wife’s child would be a Haitani? Then I shall have Haru’s baby instead if it’ll help you sleep at night—”
Palm around your neck, you choked back the rest of your sentence as Takeomi squeezed in warning. Breath stolen. “Watch that tongue of yours.” He whispered gravely, brows furrowed hard. Takeomi didn’t want to hurt you. The last thing he want was to inflict pain on you and ruin everything he has protected between you two. However, sometimes you make it so difficult for him. “I’d hate to cut it out, wife. So do us both a favor and shut the fuck up. Do you understand?”
When you refused to answer, he tightened his hold. Yet his threat was reduced to a small gasp at the moan you made, thighs rubbing together that caught his eye even in the dimly lit room. Takeomi huffed.
“You little minx.”
He couldn’t phantom, nor wrap his head around the fact that you were enjoying this. His sweet young wife—getting off of him choking her. Who would’ve known? Certainly not Takeomi whose face was still riddled with shock, the hand around your neck quivering slightly.
“What?” Voice barely above a whisper, you lifted your leg to bump your knee against the obvious hard tent bulging on Takeomi’s dress pants. Amusement is crystal clear in your irises. “Do you feel scammed? That you didn’t marry a goody-two-shoes? Maybe if your father did a more thorough background check, he would’ve found out I’m not your typical next-door gal.”
Hissing at the nudge you gave his hard-on, cock aching in the confinements of his pants, he backed away. Disgusted at himself to even consider choking you as a way of intimidation. If his mother were around, what would she say? What would his little sister think? The mere thought terrified Takeomi, resulting in him backing away as he held his head in his hands while sighing. But what made his heart and cock twitch was the lewd sound you made and how he wanted to hear more of it. To bask in your blissful melodic tunes as he chokes you while ramming his dick in your cunt.
Takeomi was afraid of his own desires, but he’d be a fool to deny it. Not when his beautiful wife is sprawled out in bed, tantalizing his rational thoughts and reducing them all to mere background noise.
Mistaking his retreat as a sign of cowardice, you laughed. “What’s this? The great Akashi Takeomi is scared of a woman’s guilty pleasure? What’s next? Going to admit to me how you refused to touch or have sex with me since our honeymoon?” Laying down on your side, you clicked your tongue. “Afraid to find out that perhaps your age has caught up to you, making you unable to give me children? If that’s the case, then I guess I was right to say I married the wrong Akashi—”
“Shut the fuck up, wife.”
That was the last thing your husband said before tearing the dress you wore tonight off of you, throwing it to the floor where the rest of his clothes went as his lips attached to yours, licking and tasting your sweetness. Huge palms roam every inch of your skin, leaving no corner or nook untouched. Gasping for breath, you tried to push Takeomi away but he refused to let you go. Drool started to slide down the corner of your lips, mind muddled with mush at the slight stinging pain Takeomi’s hand brought with every squeeze, prod, and grab. Your legs were unable to close themselves as they were held down to the side as he inserted his digits into your weeping cunt, stretching your walls with his index and middle finger. His thumb rubbing your clit in figures of eight, relishing in your high-pitched moans.
“You fucking like that, don’t you? Such a fucking whore. I wonder how many men have you fucked behind my back.”
“Takeomi, n-none. I—ah—never had anyone else—” Your words drowned in Takeomi’s kiss, brows pinched at the lack of air before he pulled away from you. Lungs finally tasting air again, your body quivered under his stare. Your husband merely chuckled lowly at your vulnerable form.
“Where did my feisty wife go now, mhm?” Pulling you close to him, he merely sneered at your disoriented self. “Maybe I should show and not tell, right?” Pushing you back down on the mattress, he pinned you down without much hesitation. “And don’t worry honey, I’ll definitely give you kids. As many as you fucking can have. More than what my brother can give you. Will that be to your satisfaction?”
“Takeomi, I—”
“Answer me, slut. Use that fucking mouth of yours. The same mouth that has been flirting with other men. You’re quite good at talking back, right? So use that mouth.”
Eyes close to rolling back, you nodded eagerly.
“Please… Please fuck me, Takeomi. Please! It’s been so long.” You muffled your moans when he sunk his leaking cock into your cunt, hearing his own faint groans as your walls hugged his length, already urging him to cum inside you and paint your pussy with his seed. And as soon as he picked up his thrusting, you sobbed into the mattress. “Yes! Fucking yes, please—shit!”
“I fucking hate this mouth.” Takeomi hissed, suddenly gripping your chin harshly to force you to look into his eyes filled with accumulated irritation in a single night. Your neck straining as you stopped yourself from collapsing at the brutal thrusts he punished you with. “Always spitting insults—teasing me or even spouting nasty things just to get my attention. Who knew you were such a slut for me, huh? And even if I hate this stupid mouth, to hear you scream would be fucking music to my ears.”
“Fuck you, Takeomi…” Whine close to a cry, you were about to grab the closest pillow to hug when your husband pulled his cock out, flipping you to face him. Lifting your legs to have your knees against his shoulder, Takeomi entered your pussy again and let out a hiss. Swallowing a squeak, your nails dug on his arms at the hard thrust he gave. You swore you almost saw stars when he started to speed up again, railing you. Slick wetting your inner thighs and the sheets below.
“Fuck, why is this pussy so tight? No one deserves this cunt, yeah? It’s only mine.” He groaned, rutting his hips into yours. The sound of skin slapping was obscene and absolutely loud while you bit back a sob. Your husband’s thick cock stretched your gummy walls, the head hitting your cervix with every thrust that made you choke back a whimper. “Shit, pussy so good, I’m gonna cum… so good, baby. As if it hasn’t been fucked!”
“Whose fault do you think it is, huh?” You groaned, hiding the tears threatening to spill. Unsure whether it was because of the pleasure or the sorrow nipping in your heart at the realization that the only chance your husband would ever fuck you this good was to anger or annoy him. How long will it take for him to take you this way again? Will he even glance your way after this? Will the same song and dance repeat? “Shit, Takeomi—are we just going to be like this? I-I… fuck, right there!”
“Baby.” Cupping your cheek, Takeomi kissed your forehead and stared into your eyes, slowing his pace to bask in your breathing. “Baby, I’m sorry. For everything… I was just afraid. Afraid to hurt you…” Seeing the tears now rolling down your cheeks, Takeomi didn’t utter another word and captured your lips again, albeit this time softer. With more love than he could ever put on paper or say with his heart. And although this may not be enough, for now, it was for you. A year without Takeomi touching you was frustrating enough that perhaps you would have settled riding his thigh when the chance came.
“Takeomi, cum inside…” Clutching to his form, you pulled his head closer to yours and whispered into his ear. “Fucking cum in me, Take—” Fingers digging into the flesh of your husband’s arm, your lips formed an 'o’ as you climaxed, legs latched onto his waist tightly as your eyes rolled back in elation. Takeomi cursed under his breath, cock spurting and painting the walls of your cunt white with his seed. Thick cum leaked out of your pussy once his cock slipped out, the pink head rubbing your clit momentarily.
Moments after you collected yourself from reaching your high, you blinked at your husband standing up and fishing for his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his pants lying on the floor. When Takeomi met your judging stare, he shrugged.
“Needed it, baby.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up and took the pack from him. Then, waving it in front of him like a bully who took candy from a child, you chuckled at his bewilderment.
“You’re not smoking any of these until you fuck me good, honey. A year’s worth of sex is what I need tonight and I won’t fucking forgive you until you give that to me. Think you can do that, husband?”