Nanami shots I Think About Before Sleeping

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You never thought you'd say the day that Nanami Kento killed you. Undeniably dangerous as he was, the entirety of his aggression was usually always pointed towards the curses he exercised for a living. Never would he raise a finger to an innocent human, so why was he so intent on making you suffer?

He hadn't so much as looked at you since he had gotten you in your compromising position; kneeling at his feet, entirely naked and with a vibrator working away within your cunt. Your hands were restrained behind your back with one of the ties from his extensive collection, a smooth and silky piece of material that wouldn't cause too much chafing. A small act of mercy on his part. The news paper in his hands entirely obstructed your view of his handsome features, and you were desperate for him to put the damned thing away so you could see his face. But alas, he was not relenting.

Your thighs had long since started shaking, entire body quivering with a burning need for the man in front of you. You could feel the cold and cloying wetness of sweat setting on your skin, a byproduct of your body's exertion from being denied orgasm for so long. The vibrator within you was thrumming at much too slow a tempo for it to push you off the precipice and frustrated tears were beginning to well in your eyes.

"Kento-"

You press your forehead to his knee, breaths coming and leaving in heavy puffs. There's not a single response from the man and you adjust with a whine, prickles shooting up your legs which are steadily turning numb.

"Please..."

The silence from him continues, and had you been any less depraved then you were, you'd have half a mind to make a snarky comment asking if he was deaf. You're on the verge of losing hope that you're ever going to garner any kind of acknowledgement from the man, when suddenly, the news paper in his hands is being closed and folded. He tosses it onto the small, round coffee table at his side, before finally, finally, turning those impossibly keen eyes onto your trembling form. Propping his elbow against the arm of the chair, Nanami slots his high cheekbone against his knuckle, peering down at you with a gaze that looks entirely indifferent.

A foot comes up, and your chin is suddenly being hooked onto one of his sleek dress shoes, keeping your hazy and lust-filled eyes on him.

"What is it that you want?"

A shudder runs through you at the sound of his voice. God, you'd never tire of that lazy drawl. You were sure he could sit there and recite pythagoras' theorem to you and you would still be as infinitely aroused as you are.

He rolls your chin slightly with his foot, watching intently as you try to fit your tongue and mouth around the words you want, but each and every attempt at vocalising comes out in no more than broken whines of "please." He isn't pleased with it, evidently, as he sighs and reaches back over for the paper he had only just discarded. Panic bubbles up within you then, and Nanami halts at a broken little cry of "n-no! Wait!"

His eyes are back on you, narrowed now and demanding as the toe of his shoe juts your head up sharply.

"What do you want, (y/n)?"

"You!" Your voice is high in pitch and wavering, body bowed forward towards the warmth of his legs, "you! I-I can't- I need you- please!" your voice trails into whimpered little mumbles, eyes squeezing shut in a desperate attempt to halt the tears that are quickly becoming large enough to fall in streaks down your flushed face. He's quiet again for a moment, listening to your pathetic little snivels and mewls for attention, and the dull buzz of the vibrator that hasn't given you rest for a single moment.

"Look at me."

His demand cuts through the thickening heat of the room, and your eyes open again on command, but just barely. He can see the wet glisten in them, knows that you're getting close to breaking.