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The hideout was always quiet at this hour, a suffocating stillness that usually made Fu’s thoughts race with anxieties about tomorrow’s missions or the sharp words of the superiors. But tonight, the shift of weight on the mattress beside her brought a different kind of tension, one that settled warm and heavy in her chest.
Fu didn’t flinch when the blankets rustled, lifting just enough to let a familiar figure slide underneath. She kept her breathing steady, feigning sleep for a moment longer, though the smell of sweat and distinct scent of Hii gave her brother away immediately.
"I know you’re up," Hii grumbled, his voice a low rasp in the dark. He didn't ask for permission; he simply shoved an arm under Fu’s head, pulling her back against his chest until they were spooning. “Why’re you so tense?”
The sudden contact made Fu stiffen for a fraction of a second, her body instinctively preparing for a blow or an order shouted in her ear. But Hii didn’t yell. He just buried his face in the crook of her neck, his warm breath ghosting over her skin.
"I'm sorry," Fu whispered, her voice barely audible. She relaxed by degrees, letting her body mold against his. It was a strange comfort, being held by someone who usually treated her like a clumsy nuisance, but in the dark, the sharp edges of Hii’s personality seemed to dull. She felt the rhythmic thumping of his heart against her spine, a steady beat that grounded her.
Hii grunted, his hand idly toying with the fabric of her shoulder sleeve. "Don't apologize. It's annoying."
Hii shifted behind her, his knee wedging between her thighs to force her legs apart. The movement was abrupt, lacking any gentleness, but Fu didn't resist. She simply went limp, allowing him to maneuver her body however he pleased. It was easier that way. It was always easier to just let things happen to her than to try and anticipate them.
"You're shivering," Hii muttered against her neck. His hand, which had been toying with her sleeve, slid down her side, fingers digging into the soft fabric of her sweater before slipping underneath the hem to rest against the bare skin of her hip.
"It's cold," Fu lied softly, leaning back into him. She wasn't cold, not with him radiating heat like a furnace. The trembling was just a lingering symptom of her baseline state—a nervous energy that only settled when he was close enough to crush it.
"Don't lie," Hii growled low in his ear, his grip on her hip tightening possessively. "I know you're not cold. You just need me to settle you down."
He wasn't wrong. The simple weight of his arm, the way his body caged hers against the mattress, it silenced the screaming voice in the back of her head that constantly worried about making the wrong move. As long as she was trapped in his orbit, she didn't have to think. She just had to exist.
Hii nipped at the sensitive skin of her neck, sharp teeth grazing over the collar of her uniform, prompting a soft, involuntary whimper from Fu. She felt the vibration of his chest as he laughed silently at her reaction. He was always like this, mixing aggression with a twisted sort of affection, keeping her constantly off-balance.
Hii’s grip on her hip tightened, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, a silent command that bypassed Fu's ears and went straight to her muscles. "Roll over," he muttered, the order short and clipped.
Fu didn't hesitate. Years of conditioning snapped her body into motion before her mind could catch up. She shifted clumsily beneath the blankets, turning until she was facing him. The moonlight filtering through the small, grime-streaked window caught the messy salmon-pink spikes of his hair and illuminated the sharp curve of his smile.
They were close now, nose to nose. Fu could see her own nervous reflection in Hii’s eyes. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that she knew he could feel. She stared at his lips, then back up to those sharp green eyes that pierced right through her own.
"Hii..." Fu started, her voice trembling as she tried to summon the courage to voice the thought that always hovered at the back of her mind. She looked down at the quilt pattern on his shoulder, unable to hold his gaze. "We... we shouldn't. It’s wrong. We’re siblings."
It was a weak protest, one she had made a dozen times before. It was a script she felt obligated to read, a moral checkpoint she had to acknowledge even if she never actually stopped at it.
Hii didn't miss a beat. He didn't sigh, didn't roll his eyes, and didn't offer some logical rebuttal. He simply didn't care to hear it.
He lunged forward, crashing his mouth against hers to swallow the rest of her protest.
The kiss wasn't gentle; it was a clash of teeth and lips, a physical reprimand for speaking out of turn. Fu’s breath hitched in her throat, but her body knew the routine better than her mind did. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she melted against him, her hands instinctively clutching at the front of his cream-colored sweater to anchor herself.
Hii didn't wait for permission to deepen the kiss. He bit down on her lower lip, hard enough to draw a startled gasp from her, and used the opportunity to sweep his tongue into her mouth. It was dominating and wet, claiming her breath as his own.
Before Fu could catch her breath, Hii moved. He was a blur of motion in the dark, utilizing the combat experience he lorded over her to flip their positions effortlessly. One moment she was clinging to his chest, and the next, her back was hitting the mattress with a soft thud.
Hii loomed over her, his knees forcing her legs wider apart as he settled firmly between them. He planted a hand beside her head, bracketing her in, his weight pressing her down into the bedding. The dominance in his posture was absolute, his silhouette blocking out the dim light from the window.
Fu stared up at him, her chest heaving. She looked small and fragile beneath him, her hands lying uselessly at her sides. Her mind raced, trying to process the sudden shift in atmosphere, but the familiar fog of obedience was already rolling in, smothering her ability to resist.
"We're doin’ something different," Hii murmured, his voice dropping an octave, rough and vibrating against the quiet of the room.
He sat back slightly on his heels, the change in position shifting the pressure against her thighs. His hands left the mattress and moved to the brown belts cinched tight around her waist. With a few sharp, practiced tugs, the buckles clicked undone, the leather loosening with a heavy thud.
Fu’s breath hitched in her throat. The words were an order, but the implication behind them was terrifyingly vague. Panic flared in her chest, an instinct to push him away, to ask what they were doing, to tell him she wasn't ready for whatever violent streak he was chasing tonight. She opened her mouth, lips parting to voice the protest.
But the protest died in her throat, strangled by the sheer weight of Hii’s gaze.
He didn't have to raise a hand to strike her or even raise his voice. He just looked at her, those green eyes narrowed and expectant, waiting for the inevitable moment her will collapsed. It was the same look he gave her before a mission—a silent demand for compliance. Fu felt the familiar, suffocating blanket of her own cowardice settle over her. If she said no, he would get angry. If she resisted, it would be her fault. It was safer to just let it happen.
Her mouth snapped shut, teeth clicking together softly. She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head to the side, offering her submission in silence.
Hii didn't waste time on reassurances. He didn't offer any comfort or check if she was truly okay with this; he knew she wouldn't stop him, and that was all the permission he needed. He leaned forward, his weight resting on one arm while the other hand tugged at the hem of her sweater, pushing the rough fabric up until it bunched around her ribs.
The cool air of the room hit Fu’s skin, raising goosebumps along her stomach, but the heat radiating from Hii’s body was far more overwhelming. He kept his eyes locked on her face, watching the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, enjoying the way she trembled beneath him.
"Keep your hands up," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Fu’s hands moved before her brain fully registered the command. She raised her arms above her head, crossing them at the wrists as if surrendering, her fingers gripping the metal bars of the headboard to steady herself. The position left her chest exposed, the bunched-up sweater riding higher, leaving her vulnerable to the cool air and Hii’s burning gaze.
"Good girl," Hii sneered, the praise laced with condescension. He didn't touch her immediately. Instead, he sat back on his heels, his eyes roaming over her exposed skin with a critical, appraising intensity that made Fu want to shrink into the mattress.
But beneath the shame, there was a twisted sense of relief. She was following orders. She was doing exactly what she was told. As long as she held that pose, as long as she didn't move, she couldn't make a mistake.
Hii didn't leave her waiting long. His gaze was heavy, a physical weight tracing the lines of her ribs and the rapid, terrified rise and fall of her chest. He seemed to be savoring the sight of her surrender, the way she had frozen in place just because he told her to.
Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his hand. His calloused fingertips grazed the soft skin of her stomach, just above the waistband of her pants. The touch was electric, sending a jolt through Fu that made her legs twitch against the mattress, but she forced herself to keep still, her fingers turning white as she gripped the headboard.
"You're shaking," Hii observed, his voice devoid of sympathy. He dragged his hand upward, pushing the bunched fabric of her sweater higher until it pooled beneath her armpits, exposing her torso completely to the cool air of the room. "You really are pathetic, aren't you? Can't even handle a little touch without falling apart."
"I'm sorry," Fu breathed out automatically, the apology a reflex drilled into her by years of harsh corrections. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, as if by blocking out the visual of her brother looming over her, she could somehow lessen the intensity of his scrutiny.
Hii clicked his tongue against his teeth, a sound of sharp displeasure. "Stop apologizing. It's boring."
He didn't remove his hand. Instead, his palm flattened against the center of her chest, his fingers splaying out to span her ribcage. The heat of his skin was a stark contrast to the chill settling over her exposed stomach. He applied a hint of pressure, pushing her down into the mattress, a silent reminder that she wasn't going anywhere.
Hii didn't give Fu any warning before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants. With a rough jerk, he yanked them down her thighs, taking her underwear with them in one swift, efficient motion.
Fu gasped, her hips lifting off the mattress instinctively to help him slide the fabric past her knees and down to her ankles, before Hii kicked them off the edge of the bed entirely. The sudden exposure made the air in the room feel freezing against her bare skin, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her face burning with a mix of humiliation and anticipation. She kept her arms raised above her head, exactly where he had told her to leave them, her fingers digging into the cool metal of the headboard.
Hii sat back on his heels between her spread legs, his gaze dropping pointedly to the apex of her thighs. A low, humorless chuckle rumbled in his chest.
The sound made Fu flinch, a flush of shame rising instantly to her cheeks and burning the tips of her ears. She tried to squeeze her legs shut, to hide the undeniable evidence of her arousal, but Hii’s knees were firmly planted in the way, keeping her splayed open and vulnerable.
"Look at you," Hii sneered, his eyes raking over her with a mix of amusement and disdain. "I haven't even touched you yet, and you're already like this."
He reached out, his index finger extending to prod the rigid, flushed length of her erection. The touch was light, almost experimental, but it made Fu’s breath hitch in her throat, her hips bucking involuntarily against the contact.
Hii didn't pull his hand away. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around her shaft, his grip firm and possessive. The calluses on his palm dragged against the sensitive skin, a rough contrast that made Fu gasp, her back arching off the mattress.
"So desperate," Hii taunted, his thumb pressing against the leaking tip. He smeared the bead of moisture over the head, his eyes locked on Fu’s face, watching the way her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted in silent pleasure. "You act so scared, but your body is begging for it. You really are just a tool, aren't you? Ready to be used whenever I want."
The words stung, sharp little needles of shame that pricked at her pride, but the sensation of his hand moving—slow, deliberate strokes that twisted just right at the end—drowned out the voice in her head that wanted to argue. Fu let out a broken whine, her fingers tightening their grip on the metal bars of the headboard until her knuckles turned white.
"Please," Fu choked out, the word spilling from her lips before she could stop it. She wasn't even sure what she was begging for—mercy or more. Her hips rocked shallowly, her body chasing the friction of his hand despite the humiliation burning through her veins.
Hii let out a sharp, condescending laugh. "Look at that. You're already leaking all over my hand." He gave her a harsh squeeze, wrenching a ragged gasp from her throat, before suddenly pulling his hand away completely.
The loss of contact was jarring. Fu’s hips twitched into the empty air, a desperate, involuntary motion that made her face burn even hotter. She felt exposed, her cock throbbing in the cool air, slick and needy. The instinct to reach down and touch herself flared up, but her arms remained frozen above her head, locked in place by the fear of disobeying his last order.
Hii didn't linger on the sight of her desperate arousal for long. With a grunt of exertion, he pushed himself off the bed, standing just at the foot of the mattress. Fu watched through half-lidded eyes, her chest heaving, as he began to strip.
He moved with aggressive efficiency, yanking the sweater over his head and tossing it carelessly into the corner. The belts and intricate layering of the uniform hit the floor next, followed quickly by his binder and boxers. When he turned back to the bed, he was bare, his lean, scarred body pale in the moonlight.
He climbed back onto the mattress, but instead of resuming his position between her legs, he flopped onto his back, his head hitting the pillow with a heavy thud. He spread his legs, his expression one of imperious expectation as he looked down the length of his own body at his sister.
"Well?" Hii barked, his voice cutting through the quiet room like a whip crack. "Get down here. You know what to do."
The order shattered the fog of Fu’s hesitation instantly. Her body moved on autopilot, scrambling to obey before her mind could even process the shift in position. She crawled down the mattress, her movement clumsy and hurried, driven by the desperate need to please him and silence the voice in her head that told her she was inadequate.
When she settled between his legs, the heat radiating from him was intense. Fu didn't hesitate. She lowered her head, her hands tentatively resting on his thighs to steady herself, and leaned in.
The scent of him was musky and sharp, intoxicating in a way that made Fu’s head spin. She didn't wait for further instruction; she knew better than to keep him waiting. Pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of his thigh, she felt the muscle there twitch under her touch.
Hii let out a rough sigh, his hand coming down to tangle immediately in her unkempt blond hair. He didn't push her head down, not yet, but his fingers gripped the roots tight, a silent reminder of who was in control. "Don't tease me, Fu," he warned, his voice low and vibrating through his body.
"I'm not, I'm sorry," Fu whispered quickly, the apology tumbling out breathlessly against his skin. She couldn't afford to mess this up.
She lowered her head the final inch and pressed her tongue flat against him.
The taste was sharp, a heady rush that made Fu's toes curl. She didn't hold back; she dragged her tongue up the length of his slit in a broad, wet stroke, her enthusiasm spiking the moment she felt him react. Hii’s hips jerked upward, a guttural groan tearing from his throat, and the sound acted like gasoline on a fire. It was approval. It was an order: More. Encouraged, Fu wrapped her lips around his swollen clit and sucked.
She moved with an eagerness that contradicted her usual timid demeanor. She licked and sucked with frantic energy, her tongue swirling and probing, driven by a desperate need to hear him make that noise again. The taste of him filled her senses, drowning out everything else until there was nothing but the heat of his skin against her mouth and the hand tangled in her hair.
Hii’s grip in her hair tightened, his fingers digging into her scalp, pulling her impossibly closer. "Good," he hissed, the word strangled. "Just like that. Don't stop."
Fu didn't need to be told twice. The command wrapped around her mind, silencing the last of her hesitation and replacing it with a singular, driving focus. She redoubled her efforts, working her tongue against him with a desperate, rhythmic intensity.
Her jaw was beginning to ache, the muscles twitching from the sustained effort, but she ignored the discomfort. The taste of her brother was heady, fogging up her senses until the only thing that existed in the world was the heat beneath her tongue and the hand fisted tightly in her hair.
Hii’s breathing grew ragged above her, transforming into harsh, guttural grunts that spurred her on. Every time his hips bucked involuntarily against her mouth, seeking friction, a jolt of twisted satisfaction shot through Fu’s chest. She was doing this. She was the one making him fall apart. Even if she was just a tool to him, right now, she was a tool he needed desperately.
Hii’s hips rolled against her face, his breathing turning into shallow, ragged gasps. The hand in her hair tightened, his fingers digging into her scalp with enough force to bring tears to her eyes, using her leverage to grind his cunt harder against her mouth. The grip was possessive and painful, a physical reminder that she was just an object for his pleasure, but Fu didn't pull away. Instead, the sharp sting at her roots only seemed to spur her on. She moaned softly against him, the vibration traveling through his skin and drawing a guttural curse from his lips.
"Look at you," Hii gritted out, his voice straining as he glanced down the length of his body to watch her work. "So eager to be used. You really love this, don't you?"
The question was rhetorical, a taunt designed to humiliate, but Fu found herself nodding as best she could with her mouth buried against him. She did love it.
Hii’s grip in her hair turned bruising, his fingers knotting into the blond strands as he took back control. He didn't let her answer with her mouth; instead, he used her like the tool he claimed she was. He jerked her head forward, grinding her face against him with a rough, demanding rhythm that stole her ability to breathe.
Fu didn't fight it. She let her jaw go slack, surrendering completely to the pace he set. Her tongue moved frantically, trying to keep up with the erratic rolling of his hips, lapping at him with a desperation that bordered on worship. The taste of him, the smell of his sweat, the overwhelming heat—it was a sensory overload that made her head spin pleasantly.
The pressure on the back of Fu's head increased, Hii's hips bucking with less rhythm and more desperate, jagged force. He was chasing his own high, using Fu's face purely for friction now, his breathing dissolving into harsh, ragged grunts that echoed in the quiet room.
Fu's lungs burned, desperate for air, but the need to be good for him overrode her body's survival instincts. She kept her mouth wide open, letting him grind against her tongue, her eyes watering from the rough treatment and the lack of oxygen. The taste of him was overwhelming, slick and musky, coating her lips and chin in a sheen of messy evidence.
"Fuck—just like that," Hii gasped out, his back arching off the mattress. His thighs clamped tight around Fu’s ears, shutting out the world until there was nothing but the heat of him and the sound of his pleasure. "Don't you dare stop. Don't you dare—"
His warning was cut short by a sharp intake of breath. Fu felt him spasm, his whole body going rigid as he rode out the waves of his orgasm against her tongue. She worked him through it, her movements slowing and becoming gentler, lapping at him with a reverence that bordered on worship, until she was sure she had drawn every last bit of pleasure from his body.
Slowly, the tension left Hii’s frame. His legs unclamped from around Fu’s head, falling heavily onto the mattress. The hand in her hair loosened, turning from a vice grip into a loose, possessive caress as he petted her sweat-dampened strands.
Hii lay panting against the pillows, his chest heaving as he came down from the high. The room was quiet again, save for the sound of his ragged breathing. Fu stayed where she was, kneeling between his legs, her face still buried close to his skin. She didn't move to wipe the slick evidence of him from her chin; she didn't dare.
For a moment, the only point of contact was Hii’s hand in her hair, fingers twitching lazily against her scalp. Then, with a groan of exertion, he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He looked down at her, his eyes heavy-lidded but still retaining that sharp, assessing edge.
"Move," Hii commanded, his voice rough but sated as he nudged Fu's shoulder with his knee. "On your belly."
The order jolted Fu into motion. She scrambled to obey, pulling away from him and flipping over onto her stomach. The movement was clumsy, her limbs still trembling from the adrenaline and the lingering taste of him on her tongue. She buried her face in her arms, pressing her cheek against the cool fabric of the pillow, trying to hide the flush that was rapidly spreading across her face.
She knew what was coming. Or at least, she thought she did. They had done this a handful of times before, though Hii had never taken it further than a couple of fingers inside her. Every instance was etched sharply into her memory: the vulnerability, the stretch, the way her body seemed to betray her by relaxing into something that felt so invasive.
Hii moved behind her, his shadow falling over her prone form. He didn't give her any time to mentally prepare, to talk herself into it. He reached out, hooking an arm around her waist, and with a display of casual strength, hoisted her hips up from the mattress.
He grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed and shoved it underneath her stomach. Fu let out a small, startled squeak as her torso was lowered back down. The pillow bunched beneath her, forcing her ass into the air while leaving her face pressed against the sheets. The position was humiliatingly exposed, leaving her completely on display, her most private parts elevated and vulnerable to Hii’s gaze.
The pillow was soft, but it felt like a stage prop underneath her, emphasizing the arch of her back and leaving her ass raised high in the air. Fu squeezed her eyes shut, her face burning against the mattress. She felt incredibly exposed like this, her legs slightly parted, her cock trapped uncomfortably against the fabric of the pillow beneath her. The cool air of the room teased the damp heat between her cheeks, making her twitch with a mixture of anticipation and dread.
"You're tensing up again," Hii observed, his voice coming from behind her.
"I can't help it," Fu mumbled into the crook of her arm, her voice muffled and small. "It's... it's a lot."
A sharp, stinging smack landed on her left cheek, cutting off her mumbled complaint. Fu yelped, her hips bucking forward against the pillow, but the friction only served to remind her of the neglected erection trapped beneath her.
"Quit whining," Hii snapped. "If you can't handle the anticipation, I'll give you something else to think about."
Before Fu could parse the warning, Hii’s hands were on her, spreading her apart with a rough, confident grip. His thumbs dug into the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her cheeks open to expose her completely to the cool air.
The shock of the first contact made Fu choke on a gasp.
Hii didn't tease or hesitate. He leaned in and licked a broad, wet stripe over her entrance, his tongue hot and heavy against the tight ring of muscle. Fu’s whole body jolted as if she’d been electrocuted, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets.
"Hii—!" she cried out, her voice muffled by the pillow. It was too much, too intense, the wet heat of his mouth against such a private, guarded place sending sparks of overwhelming sensation racing up her spine.
Hii didn't give her a moment to adjust to the sensation. He set to work with a single-minded intensity, his tongue pressing flat and firm against her hole, lapping at her with wet, audible sounds that echoed obscenely in the quiet room. He wasn't gentle; he ate her out with the same aggression he applied to everything else, his jaw working as he alternated between broad, heavy strokes and pointed, probing jabs.
Fu’s back arched involuntary, her hips pressing back against his face despite her nerves. The stimulation was overwhelming, a wet heat that bypassed her fear and went straight to her nerves. She buried her face in her arms to muffle the embarrassing, high-pitched noises that were being punched out of her with every pass of his tongue. Her toes curled against the mattress, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. It felt dirty and intimate, a violation that felt terrifyingly good, and the knowledge that her own brother was the one doing it made her head spin.
The relentless friction of Hii’s tongue was quickly eroding Fu’s self-control, leaving her a trembling mess of sensation. Just as she felt her hips beginning to rock back against his mouth of their own accord, seeking more of that wet heat, the pressure abruptly vanished.
Fu let out a pitiful whine at the loss, her face burning hot against the mattress. She felt suddenly empty, the cool air rushing in to tease the saliva-slicked skin, making her clench instinctively.
"Relax," Hii barked, his voice rougher than before. He swatted her ass again, harder this time, a sharp warning that made Fu yelp and force her muscles to unclench. "You're too tight. You want it to hurt?"
"No," Fu gasped quickly, burying her face deeper into the pillow to hide her shame. "I'm sorry. I'm trying."
"Try harder," Hii muttered.
Hii didn't wait for her to compose herself. The wet glide of his tongue returned for a moment, re-slicking her entrance with saliva before pulling away again. Then, the slick, blunt press of a finger replaced it.
Fu sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, her entire body tensing on instinct. It was a thick, insistent pressure against her rim, demanding entry. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to exhale, trying to will the tight ring of muscle to unclench, terrified of disappointing him.
"Good," Hii murmured, though his tone was absent of true praise. He pressed forward, his finger sinking past the resistance with a slow, deliberate push.
The intrusion burned, a sharp, stretching sensation that made Fu’s breath hitch in her throat. Her body fought the penetration instinctively, the muscles clamping down around the finger as if trying to push it out, but Hii didn't stop. He pushed deeper, burying his digit to the knuckle inside her tight heat.
"You're tight," Hii grunted, his voice strained. He didn't move, letting her adjust to the feeling of being full, letting her body get used to the invasion. "Relax. You're gripping me like a vice."
"I'm trying," Fu gasped out, her voice muffled by the pillow. Her fingers clawed at the sheets, knuckles white, her breathing ragged and shallow. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on anything other than the finger impaling her, the feeling of him moving inside her. "It... it's been a while."
"Then we'll fix that," Hii grunted, ignoring the way her body fluttered around him in protest.
He withdrew his finger slowly, almost all the way out, leaving Fu gasping at the sudden empty sensation. Before she could fully process the loss, he was back, pressing two fingers firmly against her saliva-slicked entrance. He didn't wait for permission or patience; he pushed them in with a steady, relentless pressure, stretching her open wider than before.
"Ah—wait, Hii, it's—too much," Fu whimpered, her voice breaking. The burn was sharper now, a dull ache radiating outward as her body struggled to accommodate the extra width. Her hips squirmed against the pillow, trying to escape the intrusion, but the movement only ground her cock harder against the fabric beneath her, sending a confusing jolt of pleasure through her belly.
"Shut up and take it," Hii snapped, cutting off her whining. He curled his fingers upward inside her, scissoring them apart to force her muscles to yield to him. "You always complain at first, but I know what you like."
He didn't give her time to argue. He withdrew the two fingers slightly, just to the first knuckle, and then thrust them back in, deeper and harder than before. He set a rough, demanding rhythm, the pads of his fingers dragging against her sensitive inner walls with every pass.
The sharp, stinging stretch began to dull, replaced by a heavy, blooming heat that unfurled in the pit of Fu's stomach. The friction of his fingers pumping in and out—relentless and unyielding—sent sparks of sensation shooting up her spine, overriding the initial discomfort. Her body, traitorous as always, began to soften around him, the tight ring of muscle relaxing to accommodate the intrusion.
With every rough thrust of his fingers, the pain receded further, replaced by a hot, heavy pressure that made Fu's toes curl. The earlier burn had transformed into a deep, throbbing ache that pulsed in time with her heart. She found herself panting into the pillow, her hips no longer trying to escape the intrusion but instead pushing back to meet Hii’s hand, desperate for more friction.
Hii noticed the shift immediately. He let out a low, dark chuckle, the sound vibrating against Fu's back. "Look at you," he taunted, his fingers curling upward to stroke a spot inside her that made her see stars. "You're taking it so well now. You really are just a greedy little thing, aren't you?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he picked up the pace, his fingers pumping into her with a wet, obscene rhythm. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mixing with Fu's broken gasps and whimpers. He wasn't gentle; he fucked her with his fingers, curling and scissoring them to stretch her open, his knuckles dragging against her rim with every thrust.
Just as Fu began to lose herself in the rhythm, her hips rocking back to meet the thrust of his fingers, Hii abruptly pulled his hand away.
The sudden emptiness made Fu gasp, her body clenching around nothing. She felt momentarily hollow, the cool air rushing back in to tease the flushed, sensitive skin that had been so thoroughly stretched just moments before. "Hii?" she whimpered, her voice wavering with confusion and unsatisfied need. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, her eyes wide and wet.
Hii ignored her confusion, wiping his slick fingers carelessly on the sheets before swinging his legs off the bed. He stood up, his movements brisk and businesslike, stripping away the lingering intimacy of the moment and replacing it with the familiar air of a mission.
"Stay there," he ordered, shooting her a warning glare over his shoulder. "And don't you dare move that pillow."
Fu buried her burning face back into the crook of her arm, her heart hammering against her ribs as she listened to Hii move around the room. The wooden floorboards creaked under his bare feet, the sound grounding and terrifying all at once. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will her breathing to steady, but the ghostly sensation of his fingers lingered, leaving her aching and empty.
She could hear the distinctive creak of the bottom drawer of their dresser sliding open. The sound sent a jolt of anticipation through her, sharp and terrifying.
"Look at me," Hii commanded, his voice echoing from behind her.
Fu flinched but obeyed. She turned her head, craning her neck to look back over her shoulder, her stomach doing nervous flips at the sight.
Hii stood by the dresser, his back to her, his silhouette framed by the faint light filtering through the window. He was stepping into the harness, the black leather straps stark against his pale skin. He pulled the heavy material up his thighs with practiced ease, settling the waistband snugly against his hips.
Fu watched, her throat going dry, as he tightened the buckles. The leather straps bit into his skin, framing his hips and thighs, highlighting the lean muscle of his legs. It was a stark, intimidating image, a visual reminder of the dynamic between them. He looked dangerous, powerful, and completely in control.
But it was the silicone jutting out from the harness that held Fu's full attention. It was a modest size—Hii knew her limits well—but it looked massive to her anxious eyes. It was attached to the front of the harness, jutting out lewdly from his hips, the dark purple silicone surface gleaming slightly in the low light.
"Turn over," Hii commanded, his voice cutting through the thick, heavy air of the room. He smacked her hip again, harder this time, a sharp reminder that he expected instant obedience. "On your knees. Face me."
Fu scrambled to obey, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated as she twisted her body around. She ended up kneeling on the mattress, facing him, her hands resting nervously on her thighs.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she came face-to-face with the dildo. Up close, it looked even more imposing. The silicone shaft was smooth and rigid, jutting out from the leather harness strapped tight to Hii’s hips. It was dark purple and thick, the flared base pressing against his pubic bone.
Hii didn't give her time to admire—or dread—the equipment. He took a step closer, closing the small distance between them until the silicone tip was brushing against her cheek. The contact was cool and alien, a stark contrast to the heat of his skin.
"You know what to do," Hii said, his voice dropping to a low, impatient growl. He tangled a hand in her messy hair again, his fingers gripping the roots tight enough to make her scalp sting. "Get it wet. Unless you want me to fuck you dry."
A fresh wave of fear washed over Fu at the threat. She knew he wasn't bluffing. If she didn't do this properly, he would take her exactly as she was, and the pain would be entirely her fault.
The fear of dry pain snapped Fu into action. She leaned forward, closing her eyes as she parted her lips. The silicone was cool and tasteless against her tongue, lacking the warmth and pulse of real flesh, but the intent behind it was entirely Hii. She wrapped her lips around the tip, sucking hard to coat it in her saliva, her tongue swirling over the head in a desperate attempt to make the intrusion as smooth as possible.
Hii watched her through heavy-lidded eyes, his grip on her hair controlling the pace. He didn't let her take her time. After a few shallow bobs of her head, he tightened his fingers and pushed her down, forcing the dildo deeper into her mouth.
"Deeper," he grunted. "Choke on it."
Fu gagged as the silicone hit the back of her throat, her eyes squeezing shut as tears pricked at the corners. She forced her jaw to relax, letting him push deeper, suppressing her body's urge to retch. She focused on coating the shaft in as much spit as possible, her tongue sliding frantically along the underside of the dildo, knowing that this was the only preparation she was going to get.
Hii held her there for a moment, watching her struggle to breathe around the intrusion, before finally yanking her head back. The dildo slipped from her lips with a wet, obscene pop, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to the glistening purple silicone for a fleeting second before snapping.
"Good enough," he muttered, releasing her hair and giving her a rough shove backward.
Fu fell back onto the mattress, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Before she could even scramble to find her bearings, Hii was on her. He grabbed her hips, his grip bruisingly tight, and manhandled her with rough efficiency.
"Flip over," he commanded. "Back on the pillow."
Fu hurried to obey, twisting onto her stomach and lifting her hips so Hii could readjust the pillow beneath her. She settled into the raised position, her face pressed against the mattress, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The wetness from her mouth still coated her lips, a messy reminder of what she had just done, and her own cock throbbed neglected against the fabric of the pillow.
Hii moved over her, his weight settling heavily onto the mattress behind her. The leather of the harness creaked softly with the shift of his hips, a sound that made Fu flinch. One of his hands landed on her lower back, pressing down firmly to pin her in place, while the other gripped the base of the dildo to steady it.
"Relax," Hii muttered, more of a warning than a comfort. He dragged the slick, silicone head through the mess of saliva left on her skin, coating the tip once more before lining it up with her entrance. "If you tense up, it’s just going to hurt more."
Fu squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in her arms, forcing herself to exhale. Her entire body felt like a bowstring pulled tight, vibrating with anticipation and dread.
Hii didn't wait for her to find her calm. With a firm grip on her hip to hold her steady, he pushed forward.
The blunt head of the dildo pressed against her entrance, insistently demanding entry. Fu gasped into the pillow, her fingers clawing at the sheets as her body tried to reject the intrusion. The saliva she’d worked so hard to spread helped, but the silicone was thick and unyielding, forcing the tight ring of muscle to stretch around it.
"Relax," Hii gritted out, his voice tight with exertion. He pushed harder, the strap-on sliding past the initial resistance with a pop that made Fu cry out.
The sudden stretch forced a sharp cry from Fu's throat, her entire body going rigid as the silicone breached her. It was thicker than his fingers, an unyielding, rigid pressure that forced her body to yield to it. Her breath hitched in her chest, coming in short, panicked gasps as she tried to accommodate the intrusion.
Hii didn't pause. He anchored a hand on the small of her back, pressing her down into the mattress to keep her from scrambling away, and pushed forward with a slow, relentless roll of his hips. The dildo slid deeper, inch by inch, filling her up until there was no room left for anything else. The sensation was overwhelming—a heavy, stretching fullness that made her head spin and her toes curl.
"It's too big," Fu whimpered, her voice muffled by the pillow. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her body trembling as she struggled to adjust to the size of him. "Hii, please, it's... it's too much."
"Quiet," Hii snapped, though the command was slightly breathless.
He didn't pull out. Instead, he held himself there, buried to the hilt, letting her body struggle to adjust to the invasion. He leaned forward, the leather of the harness creaking, pressing his chest against her back. His weight pinned her to the mattress, trapping her between the hardness of the dildo inside her and the heat of his body above her.
"You’re tough," he murmured against her ear, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her chest. "You can take it. Stop acting like you're fragile."
Hii stayed buried inside her for a long moment, his breathing ragged against the shell of her ear. He didn't move, letting the heavy, stretching pressure settle into something Fu could bear. His hand, which had been gripping her hip with bruising force, slowly relaxed. Instead of holding her down, his fingers began to trace idle patterns against her flank, a rare, gentle gesture that felt foreign coming from him.
"You're doing so good for me," he murmured, the words quiet, almost lost in the sound of their shared breathing. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, his lips lingering against the sweat-dampened skin. It was soft, uncharacteristically tender, and it made Fu's heart lurch in her chest.
He shifted his hips slightly, not to thrust, but just to push deeper, and let out a low, satisfied hum. "Taking it so well... my little sister."
The words, spoken with such uncharacteristic warmth, seeped into Fu’s chest, acting like a drug that instantly soothed the frantic pounding of her heart. Her trembling limbs stilled, the tension draining out of her shoulders as she melted into the mattress. The praise felt infinitely more potent than the fear, unlocking a visceral need deep within her to be good, to be his, to be exactly what he wanted her to be.
"I... I am?" Fu whispered, her voice small and fragile, testing the waters of this sudden affection.
"Yeah," Hii murmured against her neck, pressing another soft kiss to her nape. He slowly withdrew his hips, pulling the silicone out until just the tip remained inside her, pausing to let her feel the emptiness before sinking back in with a deliberate, smooth thrust. "You're perfect. You're my perfect little sister, aren't you?"
The affirmation washed over Fu, drowning out the remaining stinges of discomfort. She buried her face deeper into the pillow, a hot, embarrassed flush spreading across her cheeks, but she didn't hide from the praise. She nodded frantically against the mattress, her breath hitching.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice muffled but earnest. "I am. I'm your... I'm yours, Hii."
"Damn right you are," Hii grunted, the tenderness in his voice hardening back into something darker, more possessive. He pulled his hips back slowly, the ridges of the dildo dragging against her sensitive insides, drawing a ragged gasp from her throat.
Hii didn't wait for her body to adjust to the praise or the lingering stretch. With a low grunt, he pulled his hips back, the ridges of the silicone dragging against her sensitive inner walls, drawing a ragged gasp from her throat. He didn't withdraw completely, leaving the tip inside to keep her open, before thrusting forward again with a deliberate, heavy roll of his hips.
The friction was intense, the silicone unyielding as it forced her body to make room for it. Fu cried out into the pillow, her fingers digging into the sheets, her back arching as the dildo bottomed out inside her. The stretch was sharper now, the earlier tenderness doing little to dull the physical reality of being split open, but the emotional high of his praise blunted the edge.
"You're taking it so deep," Hii murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He set a slow, punishing rhythm, each thrust deliberate and forceful, designed to remind her of exactly who was inside her. "Look at you, gripping me like you don't want to let go. You were made for this, weren't you, little sister?"
"Mmh!" Fu bit down on the pillow to stifle the noise, but the sound still escaped, high and breathless. Her body felt like it was burning up, trapped between the hardness of the mattress beneath her and the relentless weight of Hii above her.
The slow, almost gentle rhythm Hii had set was torture. He didn't rush; he seemed to savor every inch, dragging the silicone out until she felt desperately empty, only to fill her again with a heavy, grinding thrust that knocked the air out of her lungs. The stretch was intense, a deep, aching pressure that bordered on pain, but underneath it, that treacherous heat was beginning to coil tighter in her belly.
"Answer me," Hii growled, punctuating the command with a sharper snap of his hips that made Fu's whole body jolt. He leaned down closer, his chest pressing against her back, trapping her. "I said you were made for this. Weren't you?"
"I was... I was made for this," Fu gasped out, the confession tearing from her throat in a breathless sob. The words felt heavy and forbidden, a truth she had buried deep beneath layers of cowardice and denial, but hearing herself say them—admitting that she existed for his use, for his pleasure—sent a shockwave of twisted relief through her system.
"Damn right," Hii grunted, his satisfaction vibrating through her back. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. "And you're doing so well taking it. My good girl."
The praise, blended with the sharp edge of his teeth, made Fu’s head spin. Her body went pliant beneath him, the resistance melting out of her muscles as she surrendered completely to the rhythm he set. She was no longer trying to arch away or escape the stretch; instead, she found herself tilting her hips back, meeting his thrusts with a desperate, needy urgency that humiliated her even as it drove her wild.
The shift in dynamic was palpable. Fu, usually so withdrawn and hesitant, was now actively seeking her own pleasure, her hips rolling back to meet Hii’s thrusts with an eagerness that bordered on desperation. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with their ragged breathing and the creak of the bed frame.
"Look at you now," Hii rasped, his voice thick with exertion and dark amusement. He pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the tip inside her trembling body, before slamming forward again, burying the strap-on to the hilt. "Can't even keep still, can you? You really wanted this, didn't you?"
"Y-yes," Fu sobbed, her face pressed so hard into the mattress that her voice was barely audible. Her fingers were white-knuckled around the sheets, holding on for dear life as he fucked into her with relentless precision. "I wanted it... Hii, please..."
"What do you need, little sister?" Hii taunted, though his voice was thick with arousal, his own breathing uneven. He didn't stop the rhythm, his hips snapping forward with a wet, heavy slap that drove the air from her lungs. "Tell me. Use your words."
"You... harder," Fu gasped, the request tearing from her throat with a sob. "Please, Hii... harder!"
A dark, satisfied sound rumbled in Hii’s chest, vibrating against her back. He didn't hesitate. He abandoned the slow, torturous pace in favor of something brutal and fast. His grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave bruises as he used the leverage to pound into her with reckless abandon.
The change in pace was violent and immediate. Hii ceased holding back, the wet slap of his hips against her ass echoing through the room like a gunshot. He drove into her with a punishing rhythm, the silicone dragging over her sensitive inner walls with every thrust, the friction so intense it bordered on unbearable.
Fu cried out, her voice muffled by the pillow, her fingers clawing frantically at the sheets. The pleasure was blinding, a white-hot flash that seared through her nerves, overriding everything else. Her body felt like it was coming apart at the seams, unraveling under the relentless assault, her mind going blank as the sensation overwhelmed her.
The bed frame creaked in protest, rocking with the force of Hii's thrusts. Fu was being jostled against the mattress, her body sliding back and forth with the momentum of his movements, her own cock trapped and rubbing against the pillow beneath her in a friction that was just on the edge of too much.
The friction against the pillow was no longer a secondary sensation; it had become the center of Fu's unraveling world. Every time Hii slammed forward, driving the silicone deep inside her, the momentum shoved Fu’s hips down, grinding her neglected length against the coarse fabric of the pillowcase. It was a rough, desperate friction, nowhere near the slick ease of what was happening behind her, but it was exactly what she needed.
Her breathing turned into ragged, hiccuping gasps, her fingers tearing at the sheets until her knuckles turned white. The dual stimulation—the relentless, filling pressure of the strap-on and the maddening drag against her front—was twisting her insides into a tight, burning knot.
"Please," Fu sobbed, the word tearing from her throat in a high-pitched keen. She didn't even know what she was begging for anymore—for it to stop, for it to never end, for the knot in her stomach to finally snap. "Hii, I... I can't..."
The knot in Fu's stomach was pulled so tight she felt she might snap in two. Her vision blurred, the edges of her awareness darkening as the relentless friction of the strap-on inside her and the desperate grinding of her cock against the pillow combined into a single, overwhelming tide.
"You can," Hii growled, his voice cutting through the haze of her pleasure like a knife. He seemed to sense exactly how close she was. Instead of letting up, he doubled down, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision. He adjusted his angle slightly, driving the silicone directly against that spot inside her that made her see stars.
"Don't you dare hold back," he commanded, his breath hot against her ear. "Let go. Cum for me, little sister."
The command was the final push she needed. The tight, agonizing coil in her belly snapped, unraveling violently.
Fu’s back arched impossibly deep, a broken cry tearing from her throat as her orgasm ripped through her. Her whole body seized, muscles locking up as wave after wave of blinding pleasure crashed over her. Her cock twitched violently against the pillow, spilling her release in hot, messy spurts that soaked through the fabric and smeared against her stomach. The intensity of it left her trembling, her vision whiting out as she collapsed forward, boneless and gasping for air.
Hii didn't stop. He rode her through it, his thrusts becoming shallow and erratic as he chased his own end. The overstimulation was too much, forcing a high, keening whine from Fu's lips as her body twitched and jerked beneath him, her sensitive walls clamping down helplessly around the unyielding silicone.
Hii rode out the final tremors of her climax, his hips slowing until they came to a complete halt. He stayed draped over her back, his weight heavy and grounding, his chest heaving against her spine. For a moment, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing, slowly syncing up as the adrenaline began to fade.
Fu felt wrecked. Her body was tingling, a dull, pleasant ache settling into her muscles, but her mind was hazy, drifting in the afterglow. She lay limp under him, utterly spent, her face still pressed into the damp pillow.
Slowly, Hii pushed himself up. The movement shifted the dildo inside her, drawing a weak, overstimulated whimper from Fu’s throat. He chuckled softly at the sound, a low, warm rumble that lacked its usual bite. He reached down, placing a hand on her hip to steady her as he carefully withdrew.
Fu let out a ragged gasp as the silicone slipped free of her body, the sudden loss of fullness leaving her feeling achingly hollow and exposed. She collapsed bonelessly onto the mattress, no longer held up by the pillow or Hii’s weight. She felt messy and used—sticky with sweat, the fabric of the pillowcase damp and uncomfortable beneath her stomach where she had made a mess of herself—but she couldn't bring herself to care.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing gradually slowing. Fu kept her face buried in her arms, her heart still hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She felt vulnerable, her body thrumming with aftershocks, waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Hii to make a rude comment, to shove her, or to simply get up and leave her there.
Instead, the mattress dipped as Hii shifted his weight. There was the metallic click of a buckle being released, followed by the sound of leather straps being undone. Fu flinched slightly at the noise, but didn't turn around.
Fu listened intently to the sounds of Hii removing the harness. There was a heavy thud as he dropped the strap-on onto the wooden floorboards, followed by the rustle of him kicking it aside. A moment later, the mattress dipped again, this time closer to her head. Hii let out a long exhale, collapsing onto his back beside her.
For a while, they just lay there in the heavy, sweat-scented silence. Fu kept her face turned away, too shy and too raw to look at him. She felt exposed, her body humming with the aftershocks of pleasure and the lingering ache of the stretch. The sticky mess cooling on her stomach and the pillow beneath her was impossible to ignore, a tangible reminder of how thoroughly she had lost control.
She flinched instinctively as Hii shifted beside her, expecting a rough shove or a sharp word telling her to clean up her mess, but the hand that landed on her shoulder was surprisingly gentle.
"Hey," Hii said, his voice raspy and low, stripped of the aggressive edge he usually wore like armor. He gave her shoulder an almost awkward squeeze, his thumb rubbing a small circle against her skin. "Don't pass out on me yet."
Fu slowly turned her head, blinking her eyes open to look at him. Hii was propped up on one elbow, looking down at her with an expression that was hard to read. His hair was even more of a mess than usual, sticking up in wild directions, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead. But his green eyes, usually narrowed in suspicion or disdain, were soft.
"Come here," Hii murmured, his hand sliding from her shoulder down to her arm, tugging gently.
Too exhausted to argue or overthink the command, Fu shifted. Her body protested the movement with a dull ache, her muscles feeling like jelly, but she allowed him to guide her. She rolled over onto her back, wincing slightly at the sticky mess cooling against her stomach and the friction of the ruined pillowcase beneath her.
Hii didn't seem to care about the mess. He reached out, hooking an arm around her waist, and pulled her close until their sides were pressed together. It was an unusual position for them; usually, after the adrenaline faded, they would retreat to their own respective sides of the mattress, or Hii would leave the room entirely to wash up. Being held like this—held like she was something precious rather than a tool to be used—sent a confusing wave of warmth through Fu's chest.
Fu stiffened for a split second, her breath catching in her throat as her body registered the unfamiliar warmth. It was so rare for Hii to be this close outside the heat of the moment, without the buffer of pain or orders to define the interaction. She instinctively waited for the shove that usually followed a moment of tenderness, the sharp reminder that she was getting too comfortable, but it never came.
Instead, Hii just held her, his arm a heavy, grounding weight across her waist. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply against her damp skin. It should have felt suffocating, but instead, the steady rise and fall of his chest against her side acted as a lure, pulling her down from the high-wire tension of the last hour.
"You did good," he mumbled against her shoulder, his voice muffled and heavy with exhaustion. The words were slurred, spoken with a lazy candor that he would likely deny if he were fully awake. "Really good."
The warmth radiating from Hii’s body was seeping into Fu’s bones, chasing away the lingering chill of the room. The adrenaline that had kept her alert was fading fast, replaced by a heavy, syrupy exhaustion that made her eyelids droop. The steady rhythm of Hii’s breathing against her shoulder was hypnotic, a slow, repetitive cadence that matched the thrumming of her own heart.
Fu shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable without dislodging his arm. Her muscles ached with a dull, sweet soreness, a physical reminder of the way he had held her down and taken her apart. But the pain was distant now, muffled by the overwhelming sense of safety that washed over her in his hold.
Hii didn't stir. His grip on her waist had loosened, his fingers resting idly against her hip, but he didn't pull away. His breathing had already deepened, turning into the slow, rhythmic pattern of sleep.