Unbound By Love's Grace [Gojo Satoru x Female Readers]

7 ~ Seven 🔞

[T]he moment you crossed the threshold into your shared hotel room, Gojo let out a low, appreciative whistle, his blindfolded gaze landing on you with a smirk that bordered on wicked.

"Well, well, Y/N... One room for two? How scandalous!" His voice dripped with playful challenge, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he strolled toward the bed. "Didn't think you'd be this eager to get into my pants tonight. Trying to make your move, huh?" He chuckled, turning to you with a look that was equal parts playful and shameless. "Good news—I'm all in."

Rolling your eyes, you feigned innocence, though the flutter in your chest betrayed your cool demeanor. "And what if I was?" The words rolled off your tongue, calm and effortless, as you crossed your arms, watching him lounge back on the bed like he was king of the world, arms stretched out in a casual sprawl that was practically an invitation. "I didn't think the strongest sorcerer would shy away from a little... intimacy."

A low chuckle escaped him, and he propped himself up on one elbow. "Shy? Me? Please, we both know who's really getting devoured tonight." His smirk widened as he gestured to the bed, "And you knew exactly what you were doing with this setup, didn't you?"

His words stirred something deep within you, the heat pooling at the apex of your legs, pulsing with eager anticipation for him to fill you completely. You let out a slow breath, unhurried as you closed the door behind you, kicked off your shoes, and took your time crossing the room. Your steps were deliberate, eyes fixed on his, the air thickening with each second as you closed the distance.

Standing in front of him, you leaned in, brushing your fingers along the edge of his jaw, voice dropping just above a whisper. "Is that a challenge?"

Gojo tilted his head, his fingers catching your wrist in a gentle but unyielding grip. "Oh, you know it is," he replied, his voice low and tantalizing, as his fingers traced down your arm, releasing you only to draw you closer. "Let's see how long that calm act of yours holds up."

With that, you slipped onto his lap, straddling him as his hands settled on your waist. You traced his cheek with your thumb, savoring the warmth under your fingertips as you leaned in. "I think I could keep this act going... for as long as you can handle," you whispered, letting your lips hover just above his, teasing him with a barely-there touch before pulling back with a knowing smile.

Gojo's eyes glinted with something dark and teasing as he tightened his hold, pulling you flush against him. "Confident, aren't we?" His voice was low, rich, as if savoring each word. Leaning closer, the space between you grew almost unbearably warm, his breath ghosting over your lips. "You're lucky I have a weakness for it."

A slow smile crept across your lips, hips rolling against him in a deliberate, tantalizing rhythm. "Weakness, huh?" The words dripped with a dark, tempting edge. "Or maybe I'm just that... irresistible?"

His breath hitched, a nearly imperceptible twitch in his pants betraying the effect you had on him, sparking a surge of heat through your veins. His hands pressed against your waist, a low growl escaping him. "Impatient little thing, aren't you?" His fingers moved to slip under the fabric, skimming over the uncovered skin of your thighs, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

You caught the flicker of his tongue against his lips, but just as you leaned in to claim them, he murmured something that froze you, a subtle flinch betraying your reaction.

"You're still not off the hook, y'know," he drawled, voice soft but commanding, eyes piercing as if they could see right through you. "What happened back there—before I got to you?"

A shadow crossed your face, the familiar mask slipping back into place as you arched a brow, deflecting. "You really want to talk about this now?"

He shrugged, the look in his eyes steady, unyielding. "I'm all ears." The set of his jaw told you he wasn't letting this go, not tonight. He knew something had been off when he found you in that domain; he just hadn't put it together yet.

"Fine," you conceded, voice calm, detached. "I nearly died. That's what happened." The words were cold, almost casual, and the tension that passed through him was undeniable, his hands going still on your skin. You wanted to close the distance, to draw him back to where you'd both been, but the edge of fury in his gaze kept you at bay.

"And you used Rewind."

"Yeah." Your gaze traced the curve of his mouth, every bit as eager to drop this conversation as he was to keep it going. But the slight arch of his brow warned you he wasn't done. "Or maybe I did die. Hard to say."

His eyes flashed. "Hard to say?"

"Pretty much." You let your thumb trace over his bottom lip, your gaze flicking from his lips to his eyes. "I blacked out the second it hit me. Next thing I knew, I was somewhere else, caught in another of those damn... memory fragments. The Rewind just... kicked in. Don't ask me how."

Gojo's fingers flexed around your waist, an almost possessive grip as he held you close, his gaze simmering with barely-restrained frustration. "You should have told me."

"Why?" Your fingers traced along the line of his jaw down to his collar, trying to ease the tension simmering between you. "So you could blame yourself for something I messed up?"

A low growl rumbled in his throat, his forehead pressing against yours, eyes narrowed as he held your gaze. "This isn't a game, Y/N. Next time, you tell me. You don't get to play solo when I'm around." His words came out heated, but laced with a raw, underlying edge that betrayed his... anger.

Your gaze softened, but only slightly, as you leaned in, lips brushing his ear in a lingering kiss before murmuring, "Fine. I'll let you know... if that makes you feel better."

He went silent for a moment, his forehead dipping to your shoulder as hands moved upward, fingers tightening around your wrist. His reaction struck you as uncharacteristically vulnerable—if you weren't practically in his lap, he might have looked a touch defeated.

"But you know... you'd blame yourself either way. It's not on you, Satoru. I'm the one who got reckless."

He lifted his head, meeting your eyes with a smirk that tried to hide the genuine concern etched into his gaze. "Doesn't make it sit any better with me."

"Then sit with this," you murmured, pressing a heated kiss to his jaw. "I blew my own cover the second I raised my cursed energy. So, yeah, it found me first, but it's all on me."

"You know I'd have torn them apart if I got there first." His hands tensed slightly before releasing your wrist, voice laced with that familiar dark intensity, the faintest hint of frustration flickering in his eyes.

He wasn't playing around, and the possessive edge in his voice sent a thrill down your spine.

"Who's to say you didn't?" Your hands cupped his face, letting the heat of your words mingle with his breath. "You didn't hold back, Satoru. They got their hell."

You brushed your lips against his, soft and teasing, letting him feel the intention in every breath, every touch, and before he could deepen it, you rolled your hips against him—again, feeling his restrained desire tense under your grip. His eyes darkened, a low, guttural noise slipping past his lips as you felt his control waver.

"Don't think you're off the hook just yet," he muttered, voice rough as he held your chin in place, his breath fanning hotly over your lips. "Keep this up, and I'll show you just what I do to reckless women."

You chuckled softly, meeting his gaze with that same calm, dark glint. "Punishment, then?" You pulled back, slipping off his lap, watching as confusion flickered in his mesmerizing eyes, a crease forming between his brows. But then, you undid the buttons on your blazer-dress, letting it slip to the floor, leaving you in only a lace bra, a black G-string, and stockings.

The way his pupils dilated, the primal shift in his expression—a look that was dark, hungry, almost dangerous—told you he had no intention of stopping you.

He didn't move as you knelt between his legs, your hands resting on his knees as you slowly spread them apart, leaning forward with an unmistakable intent. Your hands trailed along his inner thighs, inching toward his belt, fingers hooking around it as you undid it slowly, eyes locked on his.

He swallowed hard, a slight tension in his jaw. "Babe... you really think this counts as taking a punishment?"

You let your breath ghost over his exposed skin as you freed him from his pants, wrapping a hand around him, feeling the intoxicating heat pulse beneath your fingers. "Don't play coy, Satoru. You know exactly what this is."

His head tipped back slightly, crystalline eyes locked onto yours, igniting with an unmistakable fire. His voice was gravelly, laced with a mix of desire and disbelief. "This isn't what I had in mind—" His words faltered, a sharp intake of breath interrupting him as you traced your tongue slowly from the base of his cock to the tip, savoring every moment, watching his features twist with a heady mix of pleasure and frustration.

"I know," you purred, the teasing lilt in your voice hanging in the air as your tongue lingered at the tip before dragging back down, each stroke deliberate, each movement a promise of what was to come. "But I've been craving this... so badly."

The vein pulsing at the side of his jaw tightened, the slight furrow between his brows deepening as his breath hitched, revealing just how much he was trying to hold back. The raw hunger in his eyes mirrored your own, and you could feel the pulse of heat radiating between you, thickening the air around you.

You let your tongue swirl messily along his shaft, lingering just at the edge of his desires but never quite giving in. You caught the sound of him gulping, heavy and laden with anticipation, the moment stretching out with delicious intensity. That was your cue.

With deliberate slowness, you took him into your mouth, savoring the taste, letting the flat of your tongue graze his tip as you pushed the boundaries of pleasure, each movements calculated to drive him wild. His body instinctively leaned closer, hands clasping behind your head, effectively caging you within the strength of his muscles, the faint twitch of his forearms' veins brushing against your skin. His forehead rested against the crown of your head, creating an intimate barrier between you and the world outside.

"F-fuck," he groaned, voice thick with desire. "You're doing so good."

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