Touch Me Not || Chūya × Fem!Reader

--6

Chūya began with removing her overall coat.

And as her body laid insensible on the matress of his bedroom, he proceeded to take off the rest of his extravagant clothes, leaving himself only in his dress shirt and pants. Then, he lifted his body atop hers where his knees rested on both of her sides. Completely defenseless and unconsciously dependent on his clemency, she remained still in spite of his drastic movements.

Perhaps dismissing all of his remaining morals for the sake of fulfilling his insatiably selfish intents could lead to drastic consequences, but what were there to lose when she presented herself much like a rewarding dessert after his efforts of placing her in such a position?

Brushing away the strands of hair that had stuck to her skin, he inched closer to her face, admiring in silence her features at rest.

As if she understood well, he said, "Do you know what you do to me, (y/n)?"

Silence ensued after the query, and soon he began kissing her lightly on all of her exposed skin, missing not a spot to display affection he longed to give her back then. From beneath her ear, he trailed down to her throat, cautious not to mark a prominent hickey in spite of desperately wanting to.

But in the spur of the moment, his tongue flicked out for a quick second of giving in to irrationality, and, pushing aside her unrequited permission, he sucked lightly on the base of her neck.

His fingers began unbuttoning her blouse, disclosing to his eyes all of her midriff, though particularly he gazed over her collarbone and below with ardent vigor. Clearly, he presumed, she was begging for physical praise; her body was glistening in a thin coat of sweat due to the adverse effect the drug had taken on her, allowing him visual satisfaction of his perverse desires, and she wasn't verbally opposing to his touches.

He removed the blouse entirely off of her, disregarding it on the other side of the bed, before going farther down to kiss more of her pulchritude.

Acting beyond his moral boundaries would become direly inevitable, he realized, but who was there to stop? Time was insignificant in his own cosmos with her. He got off profoundly at the moment of delicately cupping her breasts, groaning in passional inclination when he discovered how soft and pliable they were, and resisting the urge to take off his slacks to ease the fire on his loin.

Instead, he removed hers, mouth gaping in lecherous hunger at the sight of her underwear that matched well with her brassiere. He convinced himself well enough to think that she had worn them for the sake of appealing him, him alone, and nobody else.

There were no questions needed to ask about his adulation for her.

"I love you... I love you so much, (y/n). I love you."

And adulation was not at all bad; people say otherwise only because they had yet to experience the euphoria it could bring, and with that euphoria came the conditions of morality. He had to lightly tip the balance of his rectitude, expounding that selfishness was simply a priority to attain that euphoria.

As he pecked the valley of her chest with his parted lips, he continued,

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

He shifted to settle below her legs, kissing on the stomach sensuously until he reached down the flesh of her thighs. He opened his mouth, and at the instant his lips touched her skin, closed slowly with his teeth dragging what had been gripped.

She had the taste of his addiction; that of a saccharine flavor.

His breath hitched in anxiety and small excitement upon feeling her limb quiver lightly in response. Right; he wouldn't want to know her reaction if he were to be caught with his licentious behavior towards her. Moistening his parched lips with his tongue, he reached out for his phone on the nightstand.

It was completely alright; after all, she did love him too, didn't she?

"You're so perfect for me."

With her consent long disregarded, he snapped photos of her bare body, relishing with his eyes her curves and skin that hadn't been prominent on her usual outfit. He spread her legs a few measures wider to take a picture of her naked thighs, along with her drop-dead gorgeous underwear that hugged around her pelvis, running a hand on the smoothness of its surface. Preceding to save them on his phone, he decided that it was best for his rather freaky geste to remain a secret.

Chūya then stripped off his remaining dress shirt. He sat on top of her, already bare on his torso as she was (excluding the undergarment), pent-up desires clouding the conscience of his judgement.

It would be incredulously hypocritical to stop his actions in spite of already doing some that had lacked her assent, however he believed that she deserved respect up to an extent, therefore preferring consensual sex more than anything else. He loved her too much to even consider otherwise.

Gently, he lifted her midsection, covering her up with the white dress shirt that he had taken off of himself. He buttoned up a few of the knobs and fixed the sleeves on her arms, his mind still in faint disbelief that she was right underneath him, nearly naked, on his bed and also in his clothes - a sight he could only depend to see in his wildest dreams, and yet there came reality.

At that moment, he claimed to have collected all the stars in the evening sky, because indeed was he the luckiest man alive. He placed kisses on both of her cheeks, before collapsing in exhaustion and placid bliss beside her. With the thought of spending the night with her no longer being one, he rested his eyes and drifted to sleep, hoping to feel the warmth of her person until sunrise.