What Men Want - Chapter 31

That evening, he’d dropped, still fully dressed, back onto his bed, contemplating the ceiling. The explanation had gone through rather well, in his opinion. No explosive reactions from either Saeko or Kaori, whose initial reaction still stung.

Damn it.

He’d called Saeko over, and Kaori had had the idea of returning home at the same time, effectively ruining his plan of explaining it to her in private.

She’d sure chosen good timing, having been AWOL until late afternoon. What had kept her out all day? He’d never gotten the chance to ask. He’d never gotten the chance to talk to her; maybe explain a little. Asking her if he’d done something wrong again.

Nope, he’d had to tell her the entire sordid tale of Amaya with Saeko present, and no matter how long he lived, he’d never forget the flash of hurt in her eyes when he’d told them about Amaya’s half-naked visit to his room and her proposition.

And no matter how long he lived, he’d never forget that momentary glimpse of incredulity and disbelief in her eyes when he’d told them he’d refused the woman. It had been just a flash, nothing more, but it had stung. It had stung that she didn’t believe him. It had been less of a heartbeat of disbelief, but it had been there.

He’d told Saeko to get Amaya somewhere else and accompanied her to the door. An opportunity she’d immediately used to interrogate him, demanding the whole truth.

So he’d told her about his suspicion—his probably unfounded fear—that Amaya had it in for Kaori, explaining to her the part of the conversation he’d let out earlier when Kaori had been present. About Kaori’s warning Amaya off and Amaya’s reaction to it. About the rancor he’d perceived in the woman’s voice and in her eyes when she’d spoken about Kaori.

Saeko had smiled, shaken her head, and called him an obtuse moron, then promised they’d be rid of Amaya before the next evening.

He’d returned to the kitchen, where Kaori had promptly apologized for doubting him earlier. And he’d had no idea where that had come from. He hadn’t said a word about it, and he was very good at keeping anything from showing on his face or on his body.

Then she’d hugged him, thanked him—for what he had no idea—and ran off to bed.

She’d hugged him. Granted, it had been brief—a quick squeeze, a brief sensation of her body against his—before she disappeared again, but his skin was still tingling.

He guessed they didn’t really need to talk about last night, about what might’ve changed between them. Something had changed, or she wouldn’t have hugged him, initiated a contact. Usually, it was always him having to make the first step.

He liked this particular development. He liked it very much.

The sound of his bedroom door softly opening made him frown. If Amaya thought of pressing her luck, he’d have to set her straight again.

He lifted his head, prepared to cut the chit down at her knees with a mere word, and his mouth dropped open in shock. It wasn’t Amaya at his door. It was Kaori. Kaori wearing one of her cute flowery pajama sets and a sheepish smile.

He swallowed convulsively as he ran his eyes up and down her lithe form. He’d never told her, and he never would, but seeing her in one of her pajamas, cute, sweet, and feminine, always made him painfully hard.

“What are you doing here?” he asked hoarsely.

Then his heart soared. Did she come to sleep in his room? Would they spend another night together? Would he spend another night in her arms? Would he be able to keep his hands to himself this time around?

Would he survive?

Then she pulled her pajama bottoms down, kicking them away, and tugged her pajama top off over her head, and he almost swallowed his tongue.

She was perfect. From her long, long legs he dreamed of once, even just once, feeling wrapped tightly around his waist to the thatch of auburn curls at the apex of her thighs he dreamed of once, even just once, being able to bury himself into, the flat belly with that delectable little bellybutton, her trim waist, and up to the most beautiful pair of tits he’s ever seen. Firm and full, they looked as if they were made for his palms alone, with the dark pink areolas and puckered nipples that made his mouth water.

He dreamed of this. He’s been dreaming this for more years than he could count, ever since discovering he loved her. He dreamed of being able to kiss her, of running his gaze, his fingers, his hands all over her body and back, of tasting her skin, of tasting her, of burying himself deep inside her, of claiming her, possessing her, and being possessed in turn.

He dreamed of her finally coming to him, of her putting aside her fears and doubts and vanquishing his own. Of her smashing down his protective walls and claiming him, claiming this.

And now it was finally happening. Jesus, it was finally happening. She was here; she was his.

He watched her walk toward him, her eyes blazing with lust and need, her white little teeth nibbling at her lower lip. He couldn’t wait to replace them with his own, tugging that pouty lower lip of hers into his mouth, soothing the sting of his bite with stroke after stroke of his tongue.

Licking lower, stroking his tongue lower...

She stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at him, and the twinkle in her eye told him she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Which should’ve been impossible, but she knew him.

Then she grinned, unbuckled his belt, and tugged his pants down over his hips. She winked at him as she knelt at the foot of the bed, licked her lips, and leaned down...And took him into her mouth.

Ryo arched his spine and threw his head back on a harsh moan. Fuck, it felt good. The feel of her mouth, so hot and wet on his cock, made him see stars, and her wicked little tongue was wreaking havoc on his senses. On his body.

He felt himself swell even more, throbbing, as he moved his hips in shallow thrusts.

He was too big, too thick for her, so she let her hands come into play. She clasped one around his cock, pumping up as she retreated, then back down again as she took him deeper into his mouth, while she gently cupped his balls in her other hand, massaging them, playing with them.

She hollowed her cheeks to create stronger suction, and Ryo almost came out of his skin. He clamped one hand at her nape, holding her still, as he thrust shallowly into her mouth. Their eyes met, but there was no reproach in hers, no embarrassment, just the same wild, inhibited need he felt coursing through his body.

He gritted his teeth at the look in her eyes, realization finally dawning.

It wasn’t real. It was all a dream.

He let his head drop back down onto the bed in dejection, his heart slamming in his chest.

This was again just a dream.

It would always be just a dream.

Because he’d never have the guts to tell her anything. And she’d never have the courage and self-confidence to come to him. They’d never have this. They’d never have anything.

He would always have her only his dreams.

He clutched his fingers into her hair and pushed her off him, his body clenching in protest. He’d be damned if he finished in her mouth. She might be just a figment of his imagination, but that was no reason not to let her enjoy it.

It was the only way he could truly possess her.

He rolled her onto her back, covered her with his body, and kissed her. But before he could groan at the feel of her tongue dancing with his, she was pushing at his chest, pushing him away.

He lifted his head and frowned down at her.

With one hand, she started pulling his shirt off over his head while pushing his jeans lower with the other.

Cluing in, he reared back and quickly got rid of his clothes, kneeing her thighs apart.

Kaori clasped his flanks and arched her body.

Surrendering to her blatant invitation, he slammed into her, making them both moan.

X Y Z

Kaori’s eyes snapped open, the echo of a moan still reverberating in her head.

And then images assailed her.

The image of her face flushed pink, glistening with sweat, as she closed her eyes.

The image of her fingers clutching at the sheets on either side of her head. The image of those fingers being pried open by a large hand. Of long, dusky fingers twining with hers.

Then sounds kicked in as well.

Sounds of harsh breathing, guttural moans, whispers of encouragement, slaps of wet flesh against flesh.

Sounds of passion.

Sounds of sex.

She was in a dream again. But this time, instead of being an observer, she was a participant. She was seeing what he was seeing, she was hearing what he was hearing.

She was feeling what he was feeling.

Another moan escaped her lips, and she felt wetness gather between her thighs in real life as she felt his body swell and throb in the dream as her body clenched around him.

Ryo was dreaming of her. Ryo was dreaming of making love to her.

“Oh, God,” she whimpered, her heart hammering as her body throbbed and pulsed as dream mixed with reality.

You feel so fucking good.

His deep, hoarse voice echoed in her head, and more images and sounds assailed her as memories kicked in.

Memories of previous shared dreams, memories she didn’t know she possessed, memories she must’ve repressed.

Of her lying in a pool of moonlight on her bed as he slowly pulled the thin sheet off her body as his fingers slowly, gently delved between her thighs, suckled at her breast through the silk of her nightgown...

Of him prowling across her room to where she sat on her bed, tearing her nightgown off her before bringing her to orgasm with his mouth...

Of him pinning her against the cold tiles of the shower as he took her from behind...

Of the image of her in his mind as he jumped on Saeko...

The dream she’d woken up from by the menacing voice and by the vivid, horrifying images of Ryo lying in an ever-spreading pool of blood.

She’d thought he was dreaming of another woman, while he’d been dreaming of her.

She was his dream woman.

Kaori threw off the covers and stood, cursing her trembling legs and her throbbing body. With sheer force of will, she somehow dampened the vivid images of her dream self writhing under Ryo’s body—was it possible to be jealous of oneself?—and ran out of the room as if it were on fire.