Professional Integrity

Call Me Yours

She cried when they left, and Mitsuhide kissed every tear until she was smiling again.

"We can come back," he soothed her, tracing long lines along the curve of her arms. "Hell, you have no ties to California. You could live here if you wanted."

A light flickered bright and vivid in her eyes before she tempered it with caution. "But would you want to live in Michigan?"

"Oh, me? This is hardly about me. Little quick, aren't we? Should I get a UHAUL?"

"Don't tease me!" She swatted his arm, pouting. "You know what I meant."

Oh, he did. He did so deeply. So they drove back to California, and he sang every song she asked him to on the way there.

Sasuke visited them in the mansion first, and if he was surprised by the sudden affection between the Princess and Mitsuhide, he sure didn't show it.

"I figured such a thing had a high probability of happening." He shoved his glasses back up his nose. "Typically heightened emotions lead to more impulsive decision making, which–"

"Yeah. Sasuke?" She laughed and set a cider in front of him. "Shhh. I don't need you to tell me how that works, okay?"

The fans no longer swarmed her front yard so much. TMZ came by and asked her for an interview, which she granted on the stipulation that it be the only one.

"How are you handling James' loss?"

"Um." She paused, staring hard down at the ground. "I mean, I feel him all the time, now. We were really, really, really, really good friends–"

"Yeah, I mean, you married him." The interviewer laughed.

She smiled politely and didn't explain the comment. "It's kind of hard to look back over how much someone changed your life so drastically and not feel the acute sense of loss now that they're gone. I'm just going to try and keep living the way I think he'd have wanted me to: honestly, openly, and as myself."

"What about his estate?"

"Well, the part of it that he left to me, I'm donating most of it to charity." She rapped her knuckles against the wall. "Which includes this lovely house, unfortunately. I can't justify having it. Besides–"

And her eyes skated over Mitsuhide, languishing in the shadows as he always did, and he caught the barest hint of her smile.

"I think," she continued, soft and sweet, "Over the last month and some, I've gotten a taste for living a lot more touch and go."

She didn't move to Michigan. Not yet, at least. Instead, after all the estate was settled, she moved into an apartment on the shore not too far away from his–though, in fairness, she might as well have just moved in with him. There was scarcely a night that she wasn't wrapped up in his arms.

"Open that pretty mouth and let me hear you again."

She was a sweet little thing, all trussed up like that. He'd set the blindfold perfectly around her eyes, bent over an armchair with her arms tied behind her back and legs spread, circling his tongue over and over and over that tiny little nub between her thighs.

"Oh my god, M–!"

He snickered and sucked hard, feeling her whole body tense and spasm. "What was that?"

"Th-that's not f-f-fai–ahh!"

"What?" Threading one long finger inside her, he slipped it slowly in and out, watching her drip down his knuckles. "You're not making much sense, my dear."

"T-tease!"

"No, teasing would be leaving you bent over this chair for another thirty minutes while I amuse myself, intermittently fingering you just for kicks. Do you want me to go back to that?"

"No!" She writhed hard. "I'll be g-g-g-good."

He paused a moment, setting his hands on either side of her knees. "Red. Are you okay?"

"Yes, Mitsuhide, I–oh my god, I'm great, just–please–"

"Green." He snickered and went right back to what he was doing, easing the tip of his long tongue in her slit. She lurched back against his mouth, desperately working her hips for more, and he withdrew with a laugh. "Oh, is that not good enough for you?"

"Fuck me," she begged. "Please, please, please, please."

"My pretty little whore. So needy." But oh, he was quite ready himself, so very ready to have her, so he tugged back on the ties around her wrists until her hips were eased back against his throbbing cock. "Take a seat, if you want to so badly."

She wriggled herself until the head of him pushed into her, and–oh–her mouth formed a perfect, silent cry, easing herself as much as she could onto his length. It always took a moment. But then she was there, the whole of her stretched out around him, and he planted one hand around her throat before he thrust in.

"Tell me how much you want it," he gasped, his hips slapping against her ass.

"So much." It honestly sounded like she might cry from need. "God, Mitsuhide, thank you."

"Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," she managed, "I'm all yours, only yours."

God, he was hers, too. He hammered against her and she almost sobbed from pleasure.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, yes yes yes yes yes!"

Hours of teasing her clearly had her at her breaking point; she lurched and spasmed, crying out as he thrust mercilessly inside her, sending her hurtling over the brink. Only when she stopped pulsing around him did he slow and untie her binds, slipping off her eye cover, and flip her over to face her.

"My love," he murmured, rocking his hips back up into her, and she moaned. The curve of her fingers laced through his hair and around his neck, and he couldn't imagine anything better. "I love you so much."

"Tell me more," she whispered plaintively. He loved this part; after she was spent and bruised and sore and over-blissed, he could praise and love her until she grew tired of it. But she never grew tired of it.

"I love you more than starlight." He rested his mouth against the curve of her neck and leaned back, pulling her over him, still working up inside her. Her eyes fluttered and he watched it with wonder. "And moonlight, and sunlight. I love watching the wind slip through your hair. I love watching your mouth part when you pull away from me."

"Mitsuhide," she murmured, and she sounded so close to crying. "I love you."

"I love it when you say my name," he rasped, and caught her around her waist, pulsing up into her again. "And I love how your voice shudders. I love that I can hear your heart as much in your voice as I can see it. And–"

She was close again. He could feel her body fluttering like a butterfly around him. Drunk on love and enchanted by her, he watched every second of her rising back to it, the twist of her lips, the rise of her chest and the arch of her back, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life. He bent her to the floor and thrust hard into her, dragging a long, intense, breathless cry from her lips–and–oh–his whole world sparked and slid sideways too, sliding threadlike from him and wrapping around her heart.

"I love you." He managed finally, putting his lips to her heart. "More than anything."

"Oh, Mitsuhide," she sighed, and kissed the top of his head. "I love you too."