𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑾⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐋𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄

THERE WAS STILL A PART OF HER THAT WAS BITTER, though. After all, she'd been his future wife for a long time, and suddenly here she was, being replaced by a much younger and prettier version of herself. It wasn't jealousy what coiled in her stomach, but a tiny little fraction of disgust. Eshima was pretty, but she was also young – the kind of young who shouldn't be getting married to a man twice her age. Then again, this was how their world worked. It wasn't Zenin Eshima's fault, and it certainly wasn't Gojo's either.

She could see them, if she closed her eyes. Eshima and Satoru, happily cuddled on the couch, a beautiful babe with pure ocean eyes and blonde curls. It hurt, but not as much as knowing it was just another type of trap, another type of prison specially designed by The Magistrate to entrap him into a life they could carefully manipulate.

"Are you making fun of me?" Satoru asked, playing the overtly offended and conservative kind of man he hated to be portrayed as. "What do you know about pleasure, you little mongrel...?"

Mikazuki's smile turned wicked, a tiny flame igniting in her beautiful golden sunset pools. She was an adult woman who'd spent ten years away from any kind of responsibility, meaning she had time to experiment pretty much with everything. Everything.

Oh, the things I know... she didn't say, not even daring to finish that sentence in the safety of her own mind just in case someone was listening. She knew far more about pleasure than Satoru realized, but that was a story for another day – maybe another life.

"More than you do, that's for sure."

The Kinzoku chuckled as the words fell from her lips, that little vixen instinct of hers overtly pleased the way she watched Satoru's Adam's apple bob up and down as he suddenly found himself suffering of a terrible case of dry mouth. Of course, this particular thirst could not be quenched by water. That would be far too easy for them.

Satoru rolled his eyes, sort of imitating her. The gesture made Mikazuki laugh, tipping her head back as a genuine cackle escaped her. She felt alive in his arms, like a firecracker whose fuse had been lit.

"Oh, really?" He asked, his voice going the to the highest pitch it could reach. "Okay, miss I-know-it-all..." he trailed off, playing it off like he was surrendering himself when the truth was the farthest thing from that.

"Don't play me, you'll end up losing." She said in a sing-song voice, the warning in her statement crystal clear even as she laid there, no visible power or change in her expression.

There was still something dangerous in here – always was, even before her docile exterior was torn apart. She was a sophisticated hunter, a killer who stalked her prey and when they least expected it. Mikazuki was a predator in everything but name. Satoru could read it in her eyes, he could taste it in the air that surrounded him, in the power that coursed through her veins.

"Come on, we both know my body count is higher than yours..."

Which body count are we talking about? Mikazuki wanted to ask, but she bit her tongue and swallowed the bitterness that coated it, stuffing the idea back into her mental box of broken things where she kept everything that might frighten him – or her, if she went deep enough.

"So?" The Kinzoku asked as she quirked her brow. "It's not about the quantity but the quality of the encounter."

"Everyone got to finish, if that's what you're trying to imply." Satoru growled, slightly annoyed at the implication.

"Gods, I would hope so." Mikazuki answered in the flattest tone she could muster before briefly flitting her gaze upwards. "Congrats on you for literally doing the bare minimum." She rolled her eyes, something akin to mirth appearing in her beautiful golden eyes. "But sex is about more than that. It's about... connection, in every sense of the word."

She was lying, as was usual with the Kinzoku. The sorceress was a liar by trade and everything about her, every tiny little detail, had been made by design of her elders with her father at the forefront of it all. Sex hadn't been about that connection for her, at least before. She'd slept with Suguru that one time, one simple mistake that took her life in a completely different direction.

She'd slept with plenty other people since then, but most of their faces eventually became a blur. It was a habit more than it was a desire and Mikazuki practiced it daily. She'd been with many men and women, from all over the world. Even her relationship with Yashiro was steeped in carnal desire.

Gojo Satoru, though... he was different and, although his reputation was far more scandalous than hers, there was this part of Mikazuki that wished to know what it was like; to be on the Satoru train, to ride it all the way to the finish line... Her mind wandered, the lust coiling tight in her belly turning her cheeks a vibrant shade of crimson.

"Really?" Satoru asked, an incredulous tone behind his words. "Have you 'connected' with every person you've ever slept with?" He wiggled his eyebrows once again. "Have you 'connected' with the guy you're seeing now?"

Satoru wasn't dumb. He'd seen the hickeys, the blush and the giggles that escaped her lips when she glanced at her phone. He'd seen the way her eyes lit up whenever she saw his name appeared on her screen. It wasn't love, but a superficial infatuation that had no real purpose. And yet, it was probably more than what he'd ever get. She seemed almost... happy, content.