Yakuza Parenting | Tokyo Revengers [Sano Manjiro x OC]

Prologue

The taste of his lips was sending her mind into a frenzy. Her head was empty, struggling to process the amount of pleasure she was feeling. She shivered under his so delicate and passionate touch, gripping his white dyed hair as he trailed soft yet eager kisses on her hot burning skin. The air was filled with the smell of sweat and lewd noises as the moonlight shone upon their entangled naked bodies, lying down on the bed, clothes discarded everywhere on the floor. Their bodies pressed against each other leaving no space for air, skin to skin, enjoying the sensation of the other's complexion and warmth. The woman let out a sigh of contentment as the man hovering over her let his hands travel on her bare body, mapping it and engraving it in his mind. Their bodies fitted each other so perfectly like puzzle pieces, like a key and its lock.

Lips pressed against one other, their tongues danced a heated waltz as the woman wrapped her legs tightly around the man's waist while he moved so pleasantly into her. Obscene sighs and groans filled the air of the room as her back arched under the amount of blissful pleasure she was feeling. Embracing the man's torso, she clawed his back not able to stay still under such delight. She threw her head back, giving him even more access to her neck that he bruised, marked with love bites. He was so agile, so skillful with her, knowing perfectly how to please her. He knew all of her sweet spots, all the places to abuse to send her to a paradise. He knew how to handle her body to submit her to such lovely pleasure.

"Manjiro...," she breathed in pure ecstasy, repeating his name again and again as if it was the only thing she knew.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her even closer as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, groaning at how good she felt. At how good she tasted. At how good she made him feel. She wasn't even doing much. But the simple sight of her, the simple feeling of her made him go crazing. The way she moved under him, the way she moaned his name, the way she held onto him, the way she kissed him, the way she looked at him... he loved it all. He adored it all. He had never felt that before. He had never felt this kind of pleasure. He had never felt such an infinite pleasure. Only she could provide it to him. Only she was capable to make him feel this way. So weak. So desperate. So deeply in love, it felt it was killing him.

Seeing her so lewd expressions, knowing he was the cause of it, he wanted more. It put him on the edge. It made him crazy, insane. He wanted to explore her body more. He wanted to know every inch, every millimeter of it. He wanted to remember it all, engrave it in his mind, and never forget the feeling of it. So he grabbed the head of the bed tight and stood on his other hand as he moved even faster against her body. Her reaction was immediate. Her body jolted and arched even more as her hands fisted around the stained sheets. Her breathing was erratic, she could barely talk, only producing sounds that sent him into a frenzy. So sinful sounds that he loved so much.

"Saki-chin...," he whispered in bliss as he watched the pleasure distorting her face.

She looked so beautiful. The soft shade of red covering her sweaty face, the strands of hair sticking to her face, her so fair skin burning up under him, her hips swaying madly against his, and her hands scratching his back. He loved it so much. He loved how she made him feel. He loved how he made her feel.

Yet, he knew it was bad. He knew they shouldn't be so intimate with each other. He knew it was wrong. But it felt so right. It felt so good. He could not resist her. He never was able to. Who would have thought that eight years without seeing each other would have led to this? Well, he was just being delusional. He knew it would have ended like this. That is why he was so adamant about never seeing her again.

But when his eyes unexpectedly met with hers back in the club, it was too late. She was just there, reluctantly dancing on the dancefloor with whom he assumed were her colleagues who dragged her to the club he owned. He was sitting in the VIP section, all by himself, enjoying a few drinks of alcohol when his dark eyes found her. He thought he dreamed it. He thought it was the alcohol. But she was really there. Moving so beautifully on the dancefloor in a dress too short for his own good. He watched her, mesmerized, as the silk fabric that tightly hugged her body stopped a few inches below her bottom and exposed her shoulder bones in such a seductive way he couldn't help but feel his body heating up. It was crazy how just the sight of her had such an impact on him. It was as if time stopped. It was as if he was no gang leader anymore. It was as if he was back eight years ago. It was as if he was back in the good old days. It was as if he was back in his fifteen years old self, dating the only girl he truly loved.

But these times were over. He knew that very well. He knew he couldn't be with her anymore. So he was about to leave just when her eyes caught his. She froze and stared at him, shocked. They stood there for a moment, separated by a sea of high and drunken dancing strangers. At that moment, he knew that if he wouldn't leave, he would do something he swore not to do. So he left. He was very adamant about returning to his penthouse, away from this girl that was like such a sweet and delicious poison he was so addicted to. He knew he had to leave. And he would have if she hadn't run after him and desperately held onto him, begging him not to leave her again. He knew he had to leave. But he didn't want to. And the next thing he knew, they were trapped in each other's embrace in a bed of a luxurious hotel in Tokyo, getting to know each other again in the most intimate way they ever had. Just one glance was enough for them to succumb to the temptation, to the yearning, to the desire, to the love.

He knew it was wrong. She knew it was wrong. He was a criminal, the leader of the most feared gang in Tokyo. And she was just an ordinary clerk in Tokyo's City Hall. And yet, at the moment, they did not care. Eight years of not seeing each other. Eight years of craving for each other. They couldn't resist. They were no kids anymore. They were changed. They were adults. And seeing how much they physically changed sent them to the edge, leading to this current situation.

He held the head of the bed even tighter, his words of adoration for her filling the thick electric air of the room, as she clenched around him. He loved this sensation so much. He loved everything about her so much. He loved her so much.

He could feel her reaching her climax. Her breath was even more erratic, her moans even louder, her grip on the bed sheets even tighter. She felt the knock in her belly getting tighter and tighter, the pleasure he was providing her so blissfully exquisite and addictive. She wanted more and more of him. She didn't want him to stop. And eventually, screaming his name at the top of her lungs, she came on him.

He held her hips so tightly it left red marks as he bit his bottom lip, suppressing a very obscene moan as he felt her warm arousal on him. It felt so great. It made him crazy. It made him twitch. It made him dizzy so much he loved it. It only made him want her more. It only turned him on even more. He was high on pleasure. High on love. He couldn't comprehend how he couldn't get enough of her. He couldn't understand how he would only become eager and eager and even more eager when it came to her. When he kissed her it wasn't enough so they got physical. But when he touched her, palmed her, felt her, it was still not enough, so they got even more intimate. They got rid of their clothes, he tasted her, licked her, savored her, but it was still not enough. He needed more. After eight years of not seeing her, of not hearing her voice, of not hearing her laugh, of not feeling her touch, he needed her. He wanted her. He desired her. So they finally connected, their body so perfect for each other as if they were specially created for one another.

Moving even faster, rougher, deeper against her, he snuggled his face in her neck as he felt himself reaching his climax. Heavy breaths and erotic noises filled the rooms as they held tightly onto each other as if their life depended on it. They were so desperate. They were craving so much. They were so in love, a burning, furnace-like passion bonding them. A never-ending, everlasting love.

They needed each other. They knew they couldn't live without the other. Yet they knew they couldn't be together. That was why she wanted him to never stop. That was why she wanted him to keep pleasuring her. Because she knew that when this intimate encounter would stop, he would disappear again. And she didn't want that. She wanted to stay with him forever. But she knew he would always put her safety first. So when he was about to remove himself from her, she held tighter to him, her legs firmly around his waist.

"Please... Manjiro... a little more... just a little more...," she begged.

And hearing her pleads, he obeyed. Hearing her soft voice begging for him to keep touching her, to keep pleasuring her, he couldn't do anything else but obliged. For her, he would do anything. So he kept moving into her, and eventually, released inside her. At the moment, they were not aware of the consequences of this act. They were too high in pleasure, too drunk in love to realize. It just left so good, so great, so amazing. Feeling this warmth inside her belly, she let out a final moan as she rested on the stained sheets. He pulled out, and he flopped down next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer. She knew it would be the final touch, the last time she would feel his skin against hers. So she snuggled closer to him, burying her face in his neck hoping to prolong the moment even just for a second.

Exhausted, she fell asleep. And just how she expected it, when she woke up, he had already left. But not entirely.