SUB ROSA | Wind Breaker

Arc 3 || 10. Take My Flesh If You Want

Akame's heart leapt as she felt the rough grip of Endo's hand clamp onto her thigh, firm and unyielding, his fingers pressing against her skin with an intensity that felt as dangerous as it was intoxicating. She froze, her leg still suspended in the air, unable to lower it as his grip tightened, keeping her body taut in the stretch. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned in, his mouth hovering mere inches from her ear.

"Not yet," he whispered, his voice a low murmur, deep and dark as velvet. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down her spine, her skin prickling as his presence enveloped her. She was acutely aware of his body pressed up against hers, every inch of space between them closed, his hand holding her leg in place as though he controlled her every movement.

She couldn't move—no, she didn't want to move. The temptation was there, raw and heady, as her mind became a blur of sensation. His touch was nothing like anyone else's. There was no caution, no gentleness. It was possessive, claiming, as if he was staking his place within the spaces no one else dared to fill.

"Look at you," Endo murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "You're already trembling for me." His fingers grazed her thigh, sending another rush of heat to her face, her skin flushed under his intense gaze. "You want me to destroy all those memories, don't you? Burn away anything that came before... until there's nothing left but me."

His words poured into her mind like a dark promise, threading themselves through her thoughts and clouding them. No one had ever spoken to her like this, touched her like this—with such unabashed desire, as if he had no need to tread carefully, no care for the walls she'd built around herself. He saw her barriers, but he didn't ask permission to cross them. He simply claimed what he wanted, and something in her couldn't resist that pull.

She felt his thumb trace slow circles against her thigh, his touch searing into her skin, and her heartbeat quickened, pounding like a drum in her chest. His presence was like a fire, licking at her edges, consuming every thought that wasn't him. She should have been afraid—perhaps she was, somewhere deep down—but the fear only heightened her desire, sharpening it until it was something fierce and unfamiliar.

Endo leaned in closer, his voice now a near growl as he spoke against her skin. "Tell me, Akame... do you want me to ruin you?" The words were more a demand than a question, laden with a challenge that dared her to let go, to fall into the storm he was creating around her.

Her throat felt tight, her mind a whirl of emotions she couldn't parse. Yet, she found herself nodding, a barely perceptible movement, her body answering for her even when her voice refused. And with that, she felt his grip tighten, his touch sinking deeper into her skin, staking a claim that sent a thrill through her unlike anything she had ever felt.

The big bad wolf, she thought hazily, as his dark promises filled her mind.

Endo's hand traveled slowly along her thigh, his fingers pressing firmly, exploring the softness of her skin with a deliberate, almost leisurely pace that seemed to savor her vulnerability. He knew exactly what he was doing, and his confidence was intoxicating, every touch designed to stoke a fire within her that she didn't fully understand. Her breath grew shallow, each inhale catching in her throat as he kept her leg suspended, kept her body in that exposed position where every nerve felt heightened, raw.

"You've been thinking about me, haven't you?" he murmured, his voice a dangerous tease, lips brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear. "Wondering what it would feel like if I... pushed you a little further?" His tone was light, almost mocking, yet there was an edge to it, something possessive and dark, like a flame ready to burn through her walls entirely.

The truth lingered unspoken between them, her silence confessing what she couldn't put into words. She hated that he could read her so easily, hated that he had seen the cracks in her composure, and yet... she felt herself lean into that feeling, that undeniable allure. There was something liberating in the reckless abandon he offered, a promise that he wouldn't treat her like something fragile or breakable, that he wouldn't tiptoe around her.

His fingers traveled lower, his touch slipping down her thigh with a pressure that made her shiver. "You're no saint, are you, Akame?" he taunted, voice low and laced with wicked amusement. "You want to feel something... real. Something that reminds you you're alive." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "I could give that to you."

Her pulse raced, a mix of defiance and desire sparking in her eyes as she held his gaze, refusing to look away, refusing to let him see how fully he had unraveled her. Her lips parted as if to speak, but words failed her, every thought lost to the intensity of the moment.

He tilted her chin up, his grip firm, almost claiming. "Good girl," he whispered, his tone darkly approving. "That's it. Show me what you're hiding. Let me see the parts of you that you keep locked away." His gaze searched hers, as if peeling back every layer she'd carefully built up, daring her to be something more than the delicate image others held of her.

Akame felt her resolve crumbling, his words sinking deep, touching something primal, something she had tried to bury. There was a freedom in his presence, a sense that he would strip her down, piece by piece, until she was nothing but raw and exposed, and in that vulnerability, she would find herself again. He didn't want her broken, but shattered, brought to a place where she could rebuild on her terms—stronger, unafraid.

His grip on her thigh loosened slightly, fingers brushing down with a gentler pressure, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted, to end this before it went any further. And yet, as his eyes held hers, she realized she wasn't ready to step back.

"You know, I could destroy you," he said, his voice a dark caress, lips curving into a faint, dangerous smile. "Erase every scar they left on you... but only if you're willing to let me." His touch lingered, fingers ghosting over her skin, leaving a trail of heat and promise.

And for the first time, she felt a strange, consuming desire to let herself be seen, to be pulled into the fire he was offering. There, in his hands, in that dark promise of oblivion, was a freedom that left her breathless.

"One day, Akame," he murmured, his voice low and weighted with that same intoxicating promise. "One day, you'll beg me to make good on all of this. And when you do..." He let the words hang in the air, a dark and tantalizing whisper that left her heart racing. He allowed his fingers to linger just a moment longer, tracing a path down her thigh, before he abruptly withdrew, as if he enjoyed leaving her on the edge, unsure and wanting.

Akame felt a mix of frustration and longing coil tightly within her as he stepped back, giving her one last smirk that promised he wasn't finished with her yet. She had the sense that he enjoyed this game—taking her to the brink, pushing her boundaries, then slipping away just before she could decide what it all meant. He reveled in the control, in the way he had her wrapped in this endless, breathless anticipation, keeping her teetering between fear and desire.

As he turned to leave, he cast a last glance over his shoulder, his gaze dark and knowing. "Remember, Akame... the next time I find you here, there won't be any mercy," he said, his tone deceptively gentle, yet the words were laced with an unyielding promise.

And with that, he slipped into the shadows, leaving her alone in the vast, empty warehouse, his words echoing in her mind like a haunting melody. The thrill and terror of it pulsed through her, every nerve alive with the memory of his touch, every thought tangled with the dark promise of what was yet to come.