Bound In Love's Curse [Gojo Satoru x Female Readers]

158 ~ Hundred And Fifty-Eight 🔞

[M]ind feeling less sluggish, the tension between you and Gojo lingered as you walked toward the main school grounds.

Whether it was the blockers or the lack of intimacy over the past few weeks since you and Gojo had grown distant, one thing was clear: the chemistry between you was undeniable, and the yearning was hard to ignore.

The subtle warmth trailing down your inner thighs hinted at just how much you were trying to hold back. With Gojo leading the way, there was something undeniably comforting about his presence, his stride radiating a sense of safety that shielded you from the world around you.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, laden with unspoken needs. Before you could catch yourself, a thought slipped out. "You... said I could use you? Does that offer still stand?"

Surprisingly, the words came out steady, confidence weaving through your voice as your heart raced. Gojo halted, glancing back at you, his blue eyes shimmering in the dim light.

Almost immediately, a weight shifted in the air as Gojo's cursed energy descended around you, fierce and unmistakable. It dawned on you then: he'd been holding back, the reins of his power carefully toned down so you wouldn't feel overwhelmed. But now, with your subtle yet clear invitation, it was as if the leash had snapped, releasing a dangerous thrill that sent a shiver down your spine.

His eyes darkened, a predatory gleam igniting them as he closed the distance between you. A smirk stretched across his lips—not the playful kind, but one that hinted at hunger, a desire that danced just beneath the surface.

"And you're really okay with this?" he murmured, voice low and inviting, as if drawing you into a secret world. "Me offering you... everything you want?"

A sultry chuckle escaped your lips, leaning back against the nearby tree, the solid surface grounding you against the intoxicating pull of his presence. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I just want to see how far you're willing to go, Satoru."

With each step he took closer, the tension crackled between you, a charged blend of challenge and irresistible attraction. The warmth radiating from him enveloped you, an intoxicating invitation that made your pulse quicken. "Thought you'd dismiss my proposal as nonsense." His voice was laced with playful confidence, yet it held an unmistakable edge—a promise of something darker.

"An intriguing offer like yours? I'd be a fool to refuse," you replied, your tone steeped in a tantalizing darkness. "But let's cut to the chase. Get down on your knees, will you?"

A flicker of surprise crossed his features, but he didn't falter. Instead, the heavy thrum of his cursed energy crept under your skin, a warning, like the distant toll of a bell in your mind. Danger was right there, tangible—but that only spurred you on. The threat, the tension, it fed something deep within, igniting that primal thrill you craved. His power resonated with your own darkness, and the rush was intoxicating.

"Bold words for someone who knows just how dangerous this can get," Gojo drawled, the smirk playing at his lips laced with amusement, but his eyes gleamed with something sharper—something primal. "But if it's a game you want..." He leaned in, his presence suffocating, his voice a velvet caress. "I'll gladly play along."

You met his intensity head-on, not faltering, the dark confidence in your smirk unwavering. "I thought I was the one in control here," you teased, voice smooth as silk but with an unmistakable edge. "Now, are you going to get on your knees, or should I find someone else to do it?"

For a moment, something flickered in his gaze, the easygoing mask slipping to reveal a flash of something possessive, dangerous. The air between you crackled, his cursed energy spiking for just a heartbeat, before he chuckled, low and dark, and moved to indulge your challenge.

He sank to one knee, fingers tracing a slow, teasing path up your legs, grazing your skin with a deliberate promise. He'd discarded his sunglasses to ensure they wouldn't get in the way. As his hands slipped beneath your dress, pulling down your black cotton legging shorts in one fluid, almost lazy motion, it sent a ripple of sensation through your body.

His touch was slow, deliberate, and the heat of his gaze on you never wavered, even as the cool night air hit your exposed, wet underwear, making you shiver.

Your head tipped back slightly, eyes locked on his as his gaze darkened, his usual crystalline blue now smoldering with something far more dangerous. Every movement, every touch, was laced with intention, yet he was taking his time—too much time.

A wicked grin spread across your lips. Slowly, you pressed the sole of your combat boot against his crotch, feeling the hardness beneath it twitch in response. His reaction was immediate—his eyes darkened further, his pupils blown wide, but his sharp smirk never wavered.

"I wouldn't push your luck." His voice dipped into a low, dangerous whisper, the threat barely concealed as his eyes locked onto yours, daring you to test him.

But instead of retreating, you leaned in closer, your voice dark and taunting. "Who says I'm afraid of danger?"

He chuckled, the sound a soft vibration against your skin as his breath brushed along your thigh. His hands worked effortlessly, slipping your shorts down with deliberate slowness, pushing your dress up your waist in one smooth motion. For a second, he stilled—his eyes darkened, gaze fixed.

The sight of the barely-there g-string made him pause, his jaw clenching hard enough that you noticed the slight twitch.

"This what you wear on missions? Next to men like Nanami? Or when you're with Ijichi?" His tone was sharp, though there was something deeper—something possessive lurking underneath the calm surface.

You arched a brow, eyes glinting as you met his with dark amusement. "Does it matter?" You let your voice curl around the words, dripping with casual indifference. "They're practical. Comfortable." Your lips curved into a sly smile. "What? You jealous?"

He snorted, but his jaw remained tight, a muscle ticking there. "Jealous? No. Pissed? Yeah, maybe." His hands gripped your hips with just enough force to let you know the game had shifted, but you only leaned further into it, relishing in the tension, the control you knew you still had.

Your lips curved into a wicked smile, eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of power and satisfaction. "Good," you purred, voice low and sultry. "Anger suits you better."

You were about to fire off another snide remark, relishing the tension hanging between you, when his pace shifted—sudden, almost ruthless. Without warning, he brushed the fabric of your underwear aside, and his mouth descended between your legs, hot and merciless. A sharp gasp tore from your throat, your head tilting back as his brisk gesture took you off guard.

The sensation was instant—a slow, searing heat coursing through your veins, quelling the insatiable ache in your core and unleashing an explosion of raw pleasure behind closed lids.

A low groan escaped you, your fingers instinctively curling into his white hair, tugging as your eyes met his. "Hmm, just like that," you murmured, voice dripping with dark confidence.