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It’s all Obanai can do to keep from breaking into a run. He knows Mitsuri is at the hot spring and he’ll be damned if he has to lose another minute without his wife.
If any demons find out about their love, it could be used against them, hence the secret meet-ups.
It’s been a month since Obanai has seen Mitsuri, since he’s made love to her properly, and the cost of their secret marriage is steeper than anticipated.
Head resting back on a rock, tit-deep in the hotspring, Misturi sighs. If only Obanai was here, her heart pulls, she misses her husband. Misses the way his hands squeeze her breasts when he fucks her deep-soft-hard.
“You’re perfect.”
Misturi jumps slightly, she thought she was alone. Recognition flips on in her brain, it’s Obanai. He’s leaning against a tree, smiling down at her while his eyes glint with something; something that clearly says I want you so bad right now.
“Obanai!” She cries, standing up and fighting against the water as she strides forward, it’s like molasses.
Her silhouette is even more stunning when she’s wet, with water dripping down her plump tits. Her bright smile, pink lips, starburst hair, all of it is Perfect with a capital P.
“Suri!” He croons, and he can’t help himself. He rushes to strip down and join her in the bath-temperature water. His stupid uniform fights him, slowing him down, as he fumbles to peel off layers. He must look ridiculous because Mitsuri laughs brightly, and Obanai loves that she finds the little things so amusing.
Finally, he breaks free of his uniform and jumps into the water, just as Mitsuri is approaching. The bubbles tickle his skin and he wraps his arms around his slippery wife, pulling her under the water momentarily. They emerge, dripping and giggling, clutching one another.
Mitsuri hooks her ankles around his back and this causes their cores to press together, it’s heaven. They sputter and wipe hair from their eyes.
“Let me look at you.” He cups her cheeks.
They just spin slowly in the water for a moment, the sounds of the forest almost rejoice with them. Birds sing and sunbeams splinter the emerald canopy.
Obanai smiles warmly with a touch of grief, and his eyes—one green, one gold—crinkle with love and longing.
Mitsuri blushes beneath his palms. “I missed you Obanai!” her eyes glint with moisture.
“I missed you too, sweetheart!” He brings their mouths together and they sigh into it, hot-perfect with tongues weaving.
In the year they’ve been married, hesitancy has washed away and they share confidence in their intimacy now. Reading each other’s bodies, the little nuances that indicate, more, deeper, harder, are like second nature.
Her fingers weave into his soft dark hair, it’s a little greasy and she loves that, loves that he is just as much granola as she is. Chills spread as his hands travel down her sides, dipping into the water to press her closer against him, by grabbing her ass.
Sloppiness doesn’t bother them, the way their mouths are languid and loose. She slides her nose to nuzzle his cheek and jaw. Something inexplicable always drives her to rub her face into his skin. It’s something about the closeness, it helps her feel connected. She marvels at how he never pulls away, in fact, he encourages it, sighs into it, whispering words of worship.
“You're so beautiful, Suri! I love you!” He backs himself into the wall, finding a nice flat rock to sit on with his wife still straddling him.
She dots kisses along the scars that frame either side of his mouth as she whispers I love you right back. He nearly breaks down crying at her tenderness. She always loves him there, the place that marks his past. How in the world did he earn such a wonderful woman? She makes him feel loved, needed, and wanted. He vows he will make her feel that way too, every day, every moment that he can.
His dick is already hardening, pressing lightly into her core. She rolls her hips and it snags perfectly on her hood.
“I missed this!” She whispers desperately, running her fingers over his ripe taught pectoral muscles.
He groans at the perfect feeling, “Tell me more.” His hands lace on her lower back. Chills race to his cock, he’s always turned on when he hears her describe what she wants.
She leans into his ear, enough so that her lips tickle the skin when she peaks. Her aroma is sweet like fresh rain and earthy, deep and enticing.
“I want you inside me, Obanai.” She whispers, rolling her hips again.
This draws a choked groan of her name from his lips, his arms clutch her a little closer. He loves that her appetite for intimacy is just as big as his.
“Gotta do something first.” He’s surprised at the grit in his voice, no doubt a symptom of being deprived of intimacy with his wife.
Without warning he grips her hips and lifts her with ease, spinning her weightless in the water so her back presses against him and she sits between his legs. She shrieks at the sudden movement, but she’s pleased.
“Missed you, Suri, so much.” He says as he glides his hands up the inside of her thighs. A year of secrecy is making him desperate.
Her skin is divine-soft under the water. When his fingers almost reach the junction of her thighs he slows to an infuriating pace, or so it feels so Mitsuri. He brushes one finger, feather-soft up her clit and she whines, arching and laying her head back against his shoulder.
He makes a soothing sound to promise her that this is part of his master plan to make her come so hard she could fly. That seems to soothe her, and he rubs her stomach with his other hand, comfortingly.
He lightly swirls a single finger over her bud, barely touching, teasing again, and the sound that comes out of her is enough to make him want to come right there, but he doesn’t, he’s mature enough to know that restraint pays off.
“Obanai! More, please!” She cries.
Slowly, he draws a circle, still soft, dragging her folds with two fingers. Her tender flesh pulses against him and she mewls, hips gyrating, desperate for more.
“Suri,” he growls, nipping at her ear lobe, “have I told you how gorgeous you are?”
He marvels at how she looks like a goddess, with legs open, head resting on his shoulder, pale skin luminous in the swirl of steam from the hot spring.
A smile spreads across her full mouth, eyes still closed, taking in every sensation. Obanai savors the sight, knowing a month or more could pass before he gets to give her pleasure like this again, the thought aches in his chest and makes his fingers dig in a little more, he doesn’t want to wait.
“Oh! That’s it, more!” Mitsuri sighs, swirling her hips.
His fingers drag and snag, her folds are so soft and perfect. He wants to make her feel loved and needed and wanted and every good thing.
“M’close.” She pants, gripping his thighs, kneading in her fingers.
“Hold on, baby, almost.” He says and removes his hand.
She whines a soft complaint, but she trusts him, as he quickly stands, water splashes off their slippery bodies and splatters into the hot spring. He turns her with strong hands at her waist and lifts her to sit on the edge of the pool.
Her pupils are dilated, she’s reaching for him, desperate.
“S’okay, I just wanna feel you with my mouth.” He would never deny her anything, not ever. This was his plan from the beginning, a slow build with a big finish.
She nods in understanding and grips his shoulders. He kisses up her thigh, while her core throbs for his mouth to meet it. He inches closer and it’s like a fuse burning towards its goal.
She moans as his teeth tease her thighs with little love bites, she loves that.
Slowly, finally, at last, his mouth presses hot-searing into her heat and she yelps for how right it feels. She’s already keyed up, so when he swirls his tongue around her clit she cries out, ready to fall off the edge into bliss.
A shriek rips from her lungs, and she claps a hand over her mouth only to feel loving fingers warp firmly around her wrist and drag her hand away. Obanai makes his point without looking up or removing his mouth from her.
Misturi understands and lets her next moan rise up slow and simmering into a great scream. She lets her head roll back and supports herself with her hands behind her. This frightens a few sparrows and they flutter up into the emerald canopy.
Mitsuri laughs and Obanai rumbles, pleased. Anyone coming up the path will definitely turn around now.
“O-o-banai!” She breathes, clutching his hair. “I’m gonna come!”
“Want me inside or like this?” He asks, voice muffled, he wants to make sure she has a say.
“Inside me! Please!” She begs.
He pulls his mouth away and she whines at the loss of contact. Obanai loops his arms around her and pulls her into the water. He doesn’t waste any time as he guides her to rest her back against a nice flat rock at a friendly angle as if it had been waiting for them.
He grabs his dick and drags the head around Mitsuri’s folds to find the familiar spot that gives and he sheaths into her warm wet need for him, all the way to the hilt.
She cries out in pleasure and wraps her arms and legs around him. He immediately starts to move, dragging his dick in and out of quiver-clenching walls. She loves how full she feels with him inside her.
Her orgasm starts immediately, it’s blinding and fluttering. All she sees are loving eyes and all she feels are loving lips kissing her roughly, but in a pleasing way.
“Obanai! Obanai!” Is all she can say, sighing it, shrieking it.
He loves seeing her unravel and he vows to make her come like this every time. Her walls accept him beautifully, clenching his dick, waking up his own path to release. He squeezes her tits and she loves that, evident in the way her bottom lip gets caught between her teeth.
He finds himself whispering words of worship, “You’re beautiful, so sexy, I love you!” as water churns around them.
Her pleasure slows and she holds his face, looking him in the eyes. “I love you, Obanai, your turn, please, I want you to feel good.” She’s urgent and smiling.
He obeys, picking up his pace. His lips drag to her jaw, and shoulder, spreading heat and chills. Shudders rack him and he loves it, loves her, he’s woven in the feeling, and it’s hiking him up higher and higher. His rhythm stutters and he clings to her, supporting her neck with one hand and grabbing her hip with the other.
Mitsuri’s gaze is so loving so pure, he could cry. He loves just feeling the rhythm, just being one flesh, together.
Her clever hands run down his back and squeeze his ass. A vine of a groan reaches up his throat as he comes and stardust peels apart his vision into spasms.
“Suri, Suri!” He’s saying her name in between obscene sounds.
Steam covers them and Obanai wishes they could do this whenever they want and not have to sneak around or hide their love from the others.
At last they slow, spent but happy. Their breaths are deep as they rest, arms still wrapped about each other, just saying ‘I love yous’ and wiping wet hair from the other’s brow.
Peace descends like dew and the pair just smile at each other feeling connected and whole.
After a few moments he removes himself from her entrance and they find a spot to sit, still submerged in the water.
Obanai lifts Mitsuri into his lap, and she tucks her head under his chin. A little bit of sadness twinges at the edges of his heart. He knows they both have missions and after they leave here, it will be a month or more until they can see each other next.
“Obanai,” Mitsuri looks up at him, eyes searching, with one of her little hands brushing his chest. “I want to tell the others. I know the risk, but I—”
He cuts her off with a sweet kiss. “Mitsuri,” He breathes, breaking the kiss to press their foreheads together. “Let’s tell them.”
“Really?” She bounces a little.
He loves her enthusiasm and the fact that she’s giving him what he’s been throbbing to ask for.
“Yes, really.” He’s serious, holding her gaze. “I’ve wanted that for a long time.”
Tears spring up, unbidden, flooding from his lower lids and he presses his forehead against hers.
Soft hands cup his face and gentle fingers brush his cheeks. She’s crying too, sobbing softly.
They just hold each other, letting a year of emotion tumble out. Long months of lonely nights and empty arms wash away and are replaced with warmth and closeness.
The other Hashira seemingly haven’t suspected, seeing as no asked or teased them for the past year.
“We will tell them together.” Obanai whispers into her hair.
She nods in reply and they stay like that, holding each other for a long time. Something inside them feels lighter and freer.
It’s eerily quiet, so quiet in fact that you can hear individual grains of rice being chewed in the jaws of Tokito, the quietest eater at the table.
The butterfly mansion stands still. Obanai sits next to Mitsuri, holding her hand under the table. He has just called the attention of all the Hashira and their leader, Mr. Ubuyashiki. Eight pairs of eyes feel like drills. Obanai steadies himself and clears his throat.
“Mitsuri and I…have been married for a year.”
The noise that follows is so uproarious, so joyful, so mind splitting, that Obanai swears his eardrums burst.
Loud is an understatement when the other Hashira jump up, screaming and hooting with laughter and congratulations.
It’s unexpected, but not unwelcome. Mitsuri clings to Obanai and they laugh as they see their closest friends react.
Kyojuro is the first to throw himself at them for a group hug. He shouts “I knew it!” In his friendly bellow.
Kocho pushes down Sanemi, by stepping on his head, and gets there next, declaring her congratulations.
When Gyomei stands, he accidentally tips the table over, his laugh booms.
Tengen exchanges money with Giyu, and saunters with a swagger up to the couple to congratulate them.
Tokito actually smiles and Mr. Ubuyashiki is shouting and laughing just like the others.
All of this happens at the same time. It’s a tumultuous noise and everyone eventually makes it over to slap the couple on the shoulders or to squish them in a rib-cracking hug.
After all the Hashira have quieted again, Mr. Ubuyashiki declares that he will ensure Obanai and Mitsuri have missions together.
This is more than the couple could hope for, they cling to each other, tears glistening, smiles hurting their cheeks, as they welcome a second booming-joyfilled reaction from their friends.