For Mayumi Asahina, her life is a performance funded by those who own her. Across the hall, Kento Nanami lives strictly by the clock. But when the rain shatters his discipline, a romance unfolds.
Between stolen nights, she finds unexpected solace and dangerous passion in the arms of her stoic neighbor.
Tags: Romance, Age Gap, Cheating, Secret Relationship, Power Dynamics, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting
❤︎ AO3 ❤︎ ❤︎ FFN❤︎
Her True Claim by Reinaytany
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Tags: Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Infidelity, Cheating, Seduction, Adultery, Age Difference, Married Man, Sexual Tension, Modern AU, No Powers AU, Guilt, Pining, Temptation, Power Imbalance, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting
❤︎ AO3 ❤︎ ❤︎ FFN❤︎
Out of the Red by Reinaytany
Trapped by her father's massive debt, Mayumi is barely surviving her life in a shady hostess club.
Everything changes the night Kento Nanami unexpectedly buys her freedom.
Now sharing his penthouse, their arrangement slowly ignites into a dangerous and undeniable attraction
Tags: Romance, Age Gap, Slow Burn, Roommates to Lovers, Domestic Fluff & Angst, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting
❤︎ AO3 ❤︎ ❤︎ FFN❤︎
Limitless Blue by Reinaytany
Satoru Gojo has the world at his feet. As the untouchable CEO of Gojo Enterprise, he is bored, brilliant, and richer than God. But when he storms into a closing bakery demanding the last limited-edition strawberry daifuku, he meets the one thing he can’t buy: Riho Minami.
Riho, an exhausted 23-year-old baker, refuses to sell him her dinner, no matter how many black cards he flashes. Intrigued by her defiance, Satoru begins a relentless, chaotic pursuit of the “Stubborn-chan” who treats him like a normal human.
But as his dangerous corporate world bleeds into her quiet life, they must decide if a love that breaks all the rules is worth the cost of admission.
Tags: Romance, Drama, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
❤︎ AO3 ❤︎ ❤︎ FFN❤︎
Bound by Desire by Reinaytany
Nana plays to win until Yuuji stops being a game. His loyalty breaks her control and his strength melts her guarded heart.
She loses her edge and he forces her to face love that can’t be planned, controlled, or escaped.
Tags: Romance, New Adult, Explicit Smut, Mutual Pining
❤︎ AO3 ❤︎ ❤︎ FFN❤︎
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I use this cover art to go along with my fanfics.
I'm not profiting from it at all, nor do I owe anyone anything.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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For Mayumi Asahina, her life is a performance funded by those who own her. Across the hall, Kento Nanami lives strictly by the clock. But when the rain shatters his discipline, a romance unfolds.
Between stolen nights, she finds unexpected solace and dangerous passion in the arms of her stoic neighbor.
Tags: Romance, Age Gap, Cheating, Secret Relationship, Power Dynamics, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting
Chapter 5: Her Life
The library smelled of old paper and stale coffee, a comforting, anonymous scent Mayumi usually sought out.
She sat beside Satsuki at a scarred table in the back corner. Satsuki was aggressively highlighting a volume on classical antiquities, her phone buzzing every few minutes with notifications from a group chat.
“Okay, I’m calling it,” Satsuki announced, tossing her highlighter down and stretching her arms overhead with a dramatic groan. “My brain is officially sludge. A bunch of us from the seminar are hitting that cheap ramen place near the station tonight. Half-price drafts on Thursdays. You have to come this time.”
Mayumi looked up from her laptop. For a split second, the idea sounded like heaven. Sitting in a cramped booth, eating cheap food, surrounded by people who didn't care about tax brackets.
"I can't," Mayumi said, the numbness instantly creeping back into her chest.
Satsuki’s face fell. “Mayumi, come on. You’ve bailed on the last three group dinners. Is Naoya dragging you to another one of those suffocating nights again?”
“No, it’s not Naoya,” Mayumi lied smoothly, though exhaustion bled through her voice. “I have to prep for a dinner with his extended family.”
She couldn’t tell Satsuki the truth: that she had to go home and wait for the next wire transfer from her mother’s boyfriend, or that Reiko would call soon to inspect her like a prized racehorse, critiquing her outfit, her posture, and whether she was “presentable enough” for the Zenins.
Satsuki sighed, resting her chin in her hands. The pity in her eyes was raw and unfiltered, the kind that made Mayumi feel small and pathetic rather than seen.
“You know, you’re allowed to just be a nineteen-year-old sometimes,” Satsuki said gently. “You don’t always have to be on duty for him.”
Mayumi closed her laptop. I'm always on duty, she thought, an invisible collar tightening around her throat.
"I really have to go, Satsu," Mayumi murmured, standing up and gathering her things. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."
The phone vibrated against the marble countertop, the buzzing cutting through the quiet kitchen.
Mayumi stared at the screen.
Incoming Call: Mother
She let it ring twice before answering, pressing the phone to her ear with the practiced calm of someone who had done this dance many times before.
“Mayumi,” Reiko’s voice came through, crisp and businesslike, no greeting wasted. “The transfer went through. Did you buy the dress I told you about? Something tight, elegant, black would be best. The Zenins notice details.”
Mayumi leaned against the counter, fingers tracing the edge of the cold marble. “I’m looking at a few options tonight.”
“Good. And make sure it’s not too cheap-looking. Mr. Tanaka is being generous with the allowance again this month, so don’t embarrass us.” Reiko paused, then added with calculated sweetness, “Naoya’s cousins will be there. You know how important this dinner is. Smile more. Laugh at their jokes. Let them see what a refined young woman you’ve become.”
Mayumi’s grip tightened on the phone. Refined. Presentable. Useful.
“Yes, Mother.”
“Tell me you booked the lymphatic massage.”
Reiko’s voice was clipped and echoed slightly, likely projected through the Bluetooth speakers of a town car paid for by Mr. Tanaka.
“Yes, Mother. Thursday afternoon, like you asked.”
“Good. You need to prep for the Zenin dinner. The Chairman is attending this one, not just Naoya’s immediate family.” Reiko paused, and Mayumi could hear the click of a lighter, followed by a long exhale. “Naobito Zenin does not tolerate sloppy things, Mayumi. And right now, you are Naoya’s girlfriend.”
Mayumi closed her eyes, leaning her hip against the cold counter. She was nineteen, yet her mother spoke to her as if she were a volatile stock portfolio.
“I know,” Mayumi murmured, her voice flat.
“Have you been keeping up with your Pilates? You have a heavy figure, Mayumi. If you don’t maintain a strict waistline, you’ll just look soft and vulgar in whatever Naoya chose for you. It reflects poorly on me. It makes it look like I haven’t taught you how to maintain your value.”
My value. Mayumi looked down at her hands. The knuckles were white where she gripped the edge of the counter. “I’m maintaining my weight, Mother. I fit into the dress.”
“See that you do. This isn’t one of his frat parties. This is a corporate exhibition with a Michelin-starred menu. Do not speak unless spoken to. Drink half a glass of champagne, no more. And for god’s sake, smile.” Reiko sighed in irritation. “I’m securing my future here in Kyoto. Do not ruin yours in Tokyo by being a bore. Understood?”
“Understood, Mother.”
The line went dead.
Mayumi didn’t lower the phone immediately. She just stood there, feeling as though the air had been vacuumed out of the room. She was a line item in Reiko’s budget. A strategic asset meant to secure a tie to the Zenin conglomerate.
Before she could even set the device down, the screen lit up again with a ping.
Naoya [02:14 PM]: Dinner is at 8 on Friday. My cousins are flying in from Osaka.
Naoya [02:15 PM]: Get your hair blown out. Don't make me look bad in front of others.
Naoya [02:16 PM]: Read 02:16 PM
Mayumi stared at the messages until the words blurred. No greeting. No “how was your day.” Just instructions, as if she were an accessory he could schedule and polish at the last minute.
She set the phone down carefully, as if it might shatter if handled too roughly. The marble countertop felt ice-cold beneath her palms.
For a long moment she didn’t move. Then, almost mechanically, she opened her banking app. The latest transfer from Reiko had cleared, ¥500,000, labeled simply “Personal.” Enough for the dress, the hair appointment, the massage, and whatever else her mother and Naoya decided she needed to look “expensive.”
Mayumi exhaled slowly and picked up her bag.
Thirty minutes later, she stood inside one of the upscale boutiques in Shibuya that Reiko favored, the kind with minimalist black interiors, soft lighting, and sales associates who greeted her by name because they recognized the Zenin connection.
A sleek black dress hung on the fitting room hook in front of her. It was exactly what her mother had described: tight through the waist and hips, with a modest but elegant neckline that still managed to accentuate her figure. The fabric was expensive, the cut unforgiving. It would hug every curve Naoya liked to show off and every flaw Reiko wanted hidden.
Mayumi stepped into the dress and stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The girl looking back at her looked polished. Expensive. Perfectly packaged.
She hated it.
The zipper slid up with a quiet hiss. The dress fit like a second skin, cinching her waist and pushing her breasts into the exact shape Naoya preferred. She turned sideways, checking the line of her hips, the way the hem stopped just above her knees. It was beautiful in the way a cage could be beautiful, elegant, restrictive, and impossible to forget you were wearing it.
Her phone buzzed again from inside her bag.
She didn’t check it. She already knew what it would be.
Instead, she stepped out of the fitting room. The sales associate smiled brightly.
“That looks stunning on you, Asahina-san. Shall I wrap it up?”
Mayumi nodded, voice flat. “Yes. Please.”
While the woman rang up the purchase, Mayumi stood at the counter and finally opened her messages.
Mother [02:37 PM]: Send me a photo once you try it on. I want to approve before you pay.
Mayumi lifted the phone, took a quick mirror selfie in the black dress, and sent it without caption. Within seconds, the typing bubble appeared.
Mother [02:38 PM]: Good. That’s acceptable. Wear the diamond studs Naoya gave you. And don’t slouch.
Mayumi paid with the card linked to Tanaka’s account. The total made her stomach twist, more than most students spent in months, but the transaction went through without hesitation.
As she left the boutique with the sleek black bag swinging from her fingers, the late afternoon sun felt too bright, too harsh. People laughed on the sidewalks, carefree in jeans and sneakers. She wondered what it would feel like to walk into a cheap ramen shop right now instead of preparing for a dinner where every smile would be measured, every word weighed.
Her feet carried her toward the salon two blocks away for the mandatory blowout.
Inside her chest, something small and tired kept whispering the same question:
How long can I keep going before I disappear completely?
Across the city, in a quiet apartment in Meguro, a single amber sconce remained switched on, a soft golden light that asked for nothing and expected even less.
Mayumi adjusted the shopping bag on her arm and kept walking.
She still had two more days to perfect the version of herself they all wanted.
Across the hall, Kento Nanami was likely at his work. He was a man who lived by his own code, who valued efficiency, who looked at the mess of her life and saw exactly what it was.
He had bought her a pastry because she looked hungry. He had given her his silence because she was drowning in noise. He had left a light on because he knew she was.
Mayumi pressed her forehead against her own door. A humiliating tear slipped down her cheek, soaking into the collar of her sweatshirt.
If Nanami saw her on Friday night, strapped into that black silk dress, displayed while Naoya’s cousins paraded her around like a prized hunting dog, would he still look at her with that quiet, protective pity?
Or would the heat she had seen flash in his eyes take over, realizing she was exactly what her mother raised her to be: a girl perfectly willing to be bought and sold?
For Mayumi Asahina, her life is a performance funded by those who own her. Across the hall, Kento Nanami lives strictly by the clock. But when the rain shatters his discipline, a romance unfolds.
Between stolen nights, she finds unexpected solace and dangerous passion in the arms of her stoic neighbor.
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
For Mayumi Asahina, her life is a performance funded by those who own her. Across the hall, Kento Nanami lives strictly by the clock. But when the rain shatters his discipline, a romance unfolds.
Between stolen nights, she finds unexpected solace and dangerous passion in the arms of her stoic neighbor.
For Mayumi Asahina, her life is a performance funded by those who own her. Across the hall, Kento Nanami lives strictly by the clock. But when the rain shatters his discipline, a romance unfolds.
Between stolen nights, she finds unexpected solace and dangerous passion in the arms of her stoic neighbor.
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Tags: Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Infidelity, Cheating, Married Man, Seduction, Adultery, Age Difference, Sexual Tension, Guilt, Pining, Temptation, Power Imbalance, Modern AU-No Powers AU.
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Tags: Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Infidelity, Cheating, Married Man, Seduction, Adultery, Age Difference, Sexual Tension, Guilt, Pining, Temptation, Power Imbalance, Modern AU-No Powers AU.
Chapter 4: One Step Too Far
Morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows as Megumi packed his overnight bag in the bedroom. Yuria stood in the doorway, watching him with a sweet, clingy smile. She wore only the thin silk robe from the night before, the fabric slipping off one shoulder.
When he zipped the bag shut, she stepped forward and pulled him into a deep, needy kiss, tongue sliding against his as she pressed her voluptuous body against him. Her tits squished warmly into his chest.
“Be good while you’re gone, baby,” she whispered huskily against his lips, voice dripping with promise. “I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow.”
Megumi smirked, “Don’t be naughty while I’m gone. Bye.” Then gave her ass a firm squeeze, and left.
The second the door clicked shut, Yuria’s expression changed completely. The sweet girlfriend vanished. A hungry, calculating glint flashed in her big hazel eyes.
Perfect.
She spent the entire day preparing. Long shower. Thick vanilla-floral lotion smoothed over every inch of her glowing skin until she smelled like sweet temptation. She chose her outfit with care: a thin white tank top, no bra, the soft fabric so sheer it clearly showed the dark outline of her sensitive nipples. Tiny black shorts that rode high on her wide hips, the hem barely covering the lower curve of her ass. Every movement made the shorts ride up even further, exposing soft, jiggling flesh.
By evening she was ready.
She picked up her phone and texted Yuta.
Yuria: Hi Yuta-san~ Sorry to bother you… the kitchen light keeps flickering and I’m scared 😭 Megumi’s away overnight. Could you come take a look? I’d really appreciate it.
His reply came faster than she expected.
Yuta: I’ll be right down.
──────•✦•────────────•✦•────────────•✦•──────
Yuta arrived at her door twenty minutes later, still wearing the maroon work shirt from the firm, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, top buttons undone to reveal a hint of toned chest. Dark slacks hugged his lean-muscled legs. He carried a small toolbox, dark-blue eyes already clouded with conflict, but the thought of leaving her alone and scared in a new apartment clearly bothered him too much to ignore.
Yuria opened the door looking slightly disheveled and vulnerable, long black hair loose, cheeks faintly flushed. The thin white tank top clung to her massive breasts, nipples visibly hard against the fabric. The tiny black shorts had ridden up so high that the soft undersides of her ass cheeks were on full display.
“Thank you so much, Yuta-san…” she breathed, voice small. “I didn’t know who else to ask.”
He stepped inside, polite and responsible. “It’s no problem. Let me take a look.”
She led him into the kitchen, staying just behind him so he couldn’t see the small, satisfied curve of her lips. Yuta set the toolbox down and reached up to inspect the fixture, the motion pulling his shirt tighter across his back.
For a few seconds she just watched him, the way his forearms flexed, the quiet focus on his face. Then she leaned against the counter, voice cracking softly.
“I… I left my last boyfriend for Megumi,” she said, almost like the words were being pulled out of her. “But he still won’t call me his girlfriend. He just keeps me around for sex and company. I have no real job, no place of my own… I feel so trapped. Used.”
Her lower lip trembled as she looked down, fingers twisting together tightly. “Even with all this money and this beautiful apartment… it doesn’t mean anything when you’re still just temporary. I’m scared I’m going to end up exactly like my mom, always depending on someone who never really wants to keep me. She gave everything to men who left her the moment they got bored. I don’t want that life… but I don’t know how to escape it.”
Yuta slowly lowered his arms and set the toolbox down. His dark-blue eyes filled with genuine concern as he turned to face her fully. He stepped closer and placed a gentle, comforting hand on her shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly over the thin strap of her tank top.
“You deserve so much better than that, Yuria,” he said quietly, his voice warm and steady. “You’re kind. You’re trying. No one should ever make you feel like you’re just… convenient. Maybe you should talk to him honestly about how you feel. If he cares about you at all, he’ll listen.”
Yuria looked up at him through her lashes, letting her big hazel eyes shimmer with unshed tears. She placed her hand over his on her shoulder, holding it there.
“You’re the first person who’s ever said that to me like you actually mean it…” she whispered. “Megumi never listens. He just takes what he wants and leaves. But you… you actually see me, Yuta-san. Not just my body. Not just what I can give you. You see me.”
She took a small step closer, until the soft, heavy swell of her breasts nearly brushed his chest. Her voice dropped even lower, trembling with raw emotion.
“I feel safe with you. Like I could tell you anything and you wouldn’t use it against me. Like maybe… for once, someone might actually want to stay.”
Yuta’s breath caught. His hand tightened slightly on her shoulder before he forced himself to relax it. Conflict flashed across his face, the warmth in his eyes warring with the knowledge that this was dangerous territory. He should pull away. He knew he should.
But she looked so small. So lonely. So heartbreakingly beautiful in that sheer white tank top, nipples stiff against the fabric, her full lips parted and trembling.
He swallowed hard. “Yuria… you’re young, beautiful, and you have so much ahead of you. Don’t let anyone convince you that you’re only worth what you can offer them in the moment. You’re allowed to want more. You’re allowed to be someone’s priority.”
A single tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away.
“I’ve never had that,” she whispered. “My mom always told me the only thing men want is this body… and when they get tired of it, they leave. I’m so tired of waiting for that day to come with Megumi.”
Yuta’s thumb unconsciously brushed away the tear from her cheek, his touch feather-light and incredibly tender. His voice grew quieter, almost pained.
“You’re more than that. Much more. And anyone who can’t see it doesn’t deserve you.”
The air between them grew thick. Yuria’s hand slowly slid up from his shoulder to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm. She rose slightly onto her tiptoes, eyes locked on his.
“Yuta-san…” she breathed, voice barely audible.
“Yuria,” he started, voice rough with hesitation, “I’m not sure I’m the right person to..”
She didn’t let him finish.
Yuria leaned in and kissed him.
It was soft at first, tentative, almost innocent, her plush lips pressing gently against his. A quiet plea. A single tear still clung to her lashes, brushing against his cheek as she trembled.
Yuta froze completely.
For several long heartbeats, he didn’t move. His mind went blank, then roared back to life in a storm of panic. Rika. Megumi. This is wrong. This is wrong. His hands hovered at his sides, fingers trembling with the effort it took not to touch her.
Then something inside him cracked.
A low, broken sound escaped his throat. His lips moved against hers, hesitant at first, then with a careful, almost reverent warmth. For five or six dangerous seconds he kissed her back, tasting the faint salt of her tears and the sweet gloss on her lips. His hand finally rose, fingers gently cupping the side of her face, thumb brushing her cheek with heartbreaking tenderness.
Yuria melted into him with a soft, needy whimper, pressing her body closer.
Then reality slammed into him like a freight train.
Yuta jerked away violently, stumbling back two full steps until he hit the kitchen counter. His chest heaved, dark-blue eyes wide with horror. His hands were shaking.
“No..” The word tore out of him, hoarse and broken. “I can’t. I won’t.”
He looked at her, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with surprise and longing, and felt sick to his stomach.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped, voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Yuria. This… this never should have happened.”
Yuta ran a trembling hand through his hair, looking utterly devastated. Without another word, he grabbed his toolbox with a trembling hand and practically fled toward the door.
He didn’t look back.
The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Yuta leaned heavily against the wall in the marble hallway, eyes squeezed shut, breathing hard and ragged. His lips still burned with the ghost of hers. His chest felt like it was caving in.
Then, with a broken curse under his breath, he forced himself toward the private elevator.
──────•✦•────────────•✦•────────────•✦•──────
The second he was gone, Yuria’s body was on fire.
She couldn’t wait. She moved straight to the bedroom, stripped completely, and pulled out her favorite toys. She lay back on the bed, legs spread wide, skin still glowing from the lotion and now flushed with arousal.
First she pressed the vibrator against her swollen clit, teasing slow circles. Soft moans spilled from her lips at first, then grew louder as she imagined Yuta’s hands instead of the toy.
“Ahh… Yuta…”
She plunged the thick dildo deep into her soaked pussy, fucking herself hard and fast, hips bucking. “Yuta… fuck, your hands on my tits… yes, squeeze them harder… I want your cock so bad…”
She climbed onto her knees and rode the dildo reverse-cowgirl in front of the full-length mirror, watching herself. She bounced wildly with every thrust, heavy and hypnotic. Her ass jiggled and rippled obscenely as she slammed down again and again. The wet sounds of her pussy taking the toy filled the room.
She came hard the first time, screaming his name loud enough that it might have carried through the walls, body shaking as she squirted a little, soaking the sheets. She didn’t stop. She kept riding, chasing a second orgasm, moaning his name over and over like a prayer.
“Yuta… Yuta.. ahh! Fuck me, please… I need you inside me…”
She came again, even harder, thighs trembling, vision whiting out as she fantasized about him filling her instead.
Yuria collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving, the thick dildo still buried inside her twitching pussy as the last aftershocks rippled through her body. The vibrator buzzed weakly against her oversensitive clit. For once, the fantasy didn’t fade the moment the pleasure ebbed.
She stared at the ceiling, eyes glassy, breathing ragged.
“Mom always said the only thing men want is this body…” she whispered into the quiet apartment, voice small and raw. “And when they get tired of it, they leave. Just like they left her.”
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye and rolled down her temple into her hair.
“But Yuta… he looks at me like I’m more than that. Like he actually sees me.”
She wiped the tear away angrily with the back of her hand, jaw tight.
“Don’t be stupid, Yuria,” she hissed at herself. “Men like him don’t stay with girls like you. He’s married. He’s rich. He’s good. Just take what you can before he changes his mind too.”
She pulled the toy out with a wet sound, rolled onto her side, and curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. The afterglow felt hollow now.
For the first time in a long time, the hunger in her chest wasn’t just for his money or his status.
It was for him.
──────•✦•────────────•✦•────────────•✦•──────
The penthouse was silent.
Yuta paced the living room like a caged animal, hands clenched behind his head, fingers digging into his hair. His heart wouldn’t stop hammering. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her, those big hazel eyes, the way her soft breasts had pressed against him, the plush give of her lips.
“God…” he whispered, voice raw. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
He stopped in front of the large window overlooking the glittering Tokyo skyline, staring at his own faint reflection. The wedding ring on his finger caught the light. He gripped it tightly, knuckles white, as if he could crush the guilt out of existence.
Rika’s smiling face on the nightstand watched him silently.
He sank onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands. His body was still burning. His cock strained painfully against his slacks, traitorously hard from those few seconds of weakness. The shame was unbearable.
She’s Megumi’s. She’s twenty-two. You’re married. You’re supposed to be better than this.
But the memory of her lips, her warmth, the little sound she’d made when he kissed her back, it wouldn’t leave him.
With a broken, disgusted sound, Yuta unzipped his pants. His hand wrapped around his throbbing cock almost angrily. He stroked himself roughly, eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted.
He hated himself for it.
Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as he pumped faster, shame and lust twisting together into something ugly. In his mind he saw Yuria’s face again, the way she’d looked up at him, soft and hopeful. He came hard with a choked groan, thick ropes spilling over his fist while tears slipped down his cheeks.
For a long moment afterward he just sat there, breathing shakily, cum cooling on his hand, disgust rolling over him in waves.
He grabbed tissues with unsteady fingers and cleaned himself up, then stared at the framed photo of Rika.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I’m really sorry…”
Yuta lay back on the bed and covered his eyes with his arm, chest tight with self-loathing.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Tags: Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Infidelity, Cheating, Married Man, Seduction, Adultery, Age Difference, Sexual Tension, Guilt, Pining, Temptation, Power Imbalance, Modern AU-No Powers AU.
For Mayumi Asahina, her life is a performance funded by those who own her. Across the hall, Kento Nanami lives strictly by the clock. But when the rain shatters his discipline, a romance unfolds.
Between stolen nights, she finds unexpected solace and dangerous passion in the arms of her stoic neighbor.
Tags: Romance, Age Gap, Cheating, Secret Relationship, Power Dynamics, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting
Chapter 4: Fabricated Excuses
The silence of her own apartment was beginning to feel radioactive.
Mayumi sat cross-legged on the edge of her white sofa, her laptop glowing in the dim room. The digital clock in the corner of the screen read 10:42 PM.
Mayumi [10:15 PM]: Did you want me to save you some dinner?
Naoya [10:38 PM]: Read 10:38 PM
She stared at the read receipt until the words blurred. It wasn’t rejection that tightened her chest, it was the numb boredom of being an accessory no one truly needed.
Her eyes drifted to the door across the hall. Beyond it lay a space where silence didn’t feel like punishment
Mayumi looked back at her laptop screen. The Wi-Fi signal was at full strength. Deliberately, her finger hovered over the trackpad, clicked the network icon, and hit 'Forget This Network'.
She pulled off her oversized sweatshirt, revealing a tight pink tank top and short white shorts, the kind of revealing outfit Naoya usually demanded. Tonight she wasn’t dressing for him. She was weaponizing the only power she believed she had left.
Her knuckles barely grazed the wood of Room 402 before she heard footsteps inside. A moment later, the deadbolt clacked, and the door swung open.
Kento Nanami stood in the doorway, vest over a crisp white button-down, reading glasses low on his nose, Montblanc pen still in hand.
“Miss Asahina,” he said, voice a low, measured baritone
She’s lying before she even speaks, Nanami thought the moment he saw her. The flushed cheeks, the deliberate shift of weight, the way the thin fabric clung to her body, it was painfully transparent. A calculated offering from a girl who had learned that her body was currency. The realization stirred something uncomfortably close to pity… and a sharper, more inconvenient awareness he immediately suppressed.
“I’m sorry to bother you so late,” Mayumi began, voice thin. “My, um... my router isn’t connecting. I have a paper due by midnight, and I thought maybe the building network was down for you too?”
Nanami didn’t blink. His gaze flicked over her face, then, for the briefest fraction of a second, down to her bare legs before returning to her eyes. He saw the lie clearly. He also saw the desperate hope behind it.
She knew she was lying. He knew she was lying.
A private equity principal who orchestrated multi-billion-yen buyouts was not going to be fooled by a nineteen-year-old’s fabricated IT crisis.
Without a word, he extended his hand, palm up.
Mayumi blinked, then handed him the laptop. Their fingers brushed against the cool silver of his watch.
He balanced the MacBook on his forearm and fixed the connection in under fifteen seconds, manually overriding the subnet she had deliberately sabotaged.
Nanami didn't invite her in. He stood in the doorway, wholly ignoring her lure. The entire process took fifteen seconds.
“The building maintenance occasionally resets the IP leases,” he said, handing the laptop back. His tone was perfectly neutral, but the word purposely hung between them like a quiet warning. “It requires a manual override if you disconnect it yourself.”
Mayumi’s cheeks burned crimson. “Right… Thank you. I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Make sure you submit your paper on time,” Nanami replied, voice flat. Internally, a quiet tension pulled at him.
She’s testing boundaries. She’s lonely. And she’s far too young to be throwing herself at a man like me.
“Goodnight, Mayumi.”
The door clicked shut.
Two days later, she tried again.
This time with an Amazon box placed deliberately between their doors, two inches closer to his mat. She had changed into tight jeans and a cropped top that exposed a strip of midriff.
When Nanami opened the door, he was still in his full three-piece charcoal suit, tie impeccably knotted, briefcase just set down.
“I think the courier mixed up our deliveries,” Mayumi said quickly, bending forward to point at the box.
It was a calculated movement, one designed to put herself on display.
Nanami looked at the box. He looked at the label with her name clearly printed on it. Then he looked back at her face, deliberately ignoring the deliberate arch of her back and the exposed skin.
She’s doing it again, he thought, jaw tightening. A surge of irritation flared, not at her, but at the circumstances that had taught her this was the only way to ask for attention. Beneath it, something quieter and far more dangerous stirred: a reluctant pull. She was beautiful, yes, but it was the raw vulnerability beneath the performance that unsettled him most.
It was highly inappropriate. It was a distraction.
"It appears so," Nanami finally said. He didn't mock her. He simply bent down, picked up the box with controlled movements, and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, clutching it to her chest.
Nanami held the door open, studying her hunched shoulders. A small fracture appeared in his usual stoicism.
“Did you receive your midterm results?” he asked, his voice softer than before.
Mayumi’s eyes widened. “Yes… I got an A.”
He gave a slow nod. “Good. Keep your focus there. Your academics yield a higher return than anything else currently occupying your time.”
It was both praise and a veiled warning about Naoya.
"I will," she said.
"Have a good evening," Nanami said, retreating back into his fortress of order.
By Friday, the tension in Mayumi’s chest had wound itself into a tight, agonizing coil.
Naoya [11:15 PM]: Staying out with the guys. Don't call me, my battery is dying.
She dropped her phone onto the glass coffee table. The apartment was a tomb. The air conditioning hummed, a mechanical sound that highlighted the emptiness of the room.
She couldn’t invent another excuse. Nanami’s boundaries were steel. She simply walked to her door, opened it a few inches, and leaned her forehead against the cool frame, desperate for air that didn’t belong to anyone else.
The hallway was dark, motion-sensor lights long since timed out.
But across from her, the amber sconce above Room 402 glowed softly, a warm, golden pool of light on the carpet.
Mayumi stepped out barefoot and walked into that halo of light. She didn’t knock. She simply stood there.
Through the thick oak door she could hear the faint rustle of turning pages, the scratch of a pen, the soft clink of ice in a glass.
Nanami Kento did not waste electricity. He did not leave lights on by accident.
Inside his apartment, Nanami paused mid-sentence, pen hovering over the paper. He had flipped the manual switch for the sconce thirty minutes ago, telling himself it was simply practical, in case the girl across the hall needed an escape again.
He knew she was standing outside his door right now. He could sense the shift in the quiet hallway.
She’s not knocking, he thought, exhaling slowly. Good.
A quiet ache settled in his chest, part protectiveness, part frustration at how badly she was starving for simple kindness. He wanted to open the door. He wanted to tell her she didn’t need excuses, didn’t need to perform, didn’t need to offer her body just to feel seen.
But he stayed seated.
Instead, he left the light on.
It wasn’t an invitation. It wasn’t a promise.
It was simply this: I am here. If you need to run, my light is on.
In the hallway, Mayumi pressed her palm flat against his door, the wood warm beneath her skin. She closed her eyes and let out a long, trembling breath. For the first time all week, the frantic beat of her heart began to slow.
She stood in his light for ten full minutes, letting the quiet protection sink into her bones, before finally turning and slipping back into her own apartment.
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Tags: Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Infidelity, Cheating, Married Man, Seduction, Adultery, Age Difference, Sexual Tension, Guilt, Pining, Temptation, Power Imbalance, Modern AU-No Powers AU.
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Tags: Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Infidelity, Cheating, Married Man, Seduction, Adultery, Age Difference, Sexual Tension, Guilt, Pining, Temptation, Power Imbalance, Modern AU-No Powers AU.
Chapter 3: Lingering Eyes
The Glass Tower’s high-end gym on the 30th floor was quiet in the early morning hours, the kind of silence only truly expensive buildings could afford. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a soft dawn view of the city waking up.
It’s three days after the lounge dinner, and Yuria stepped inside wearing the workout outfit she could justify in public: a tight black sports bra that strained against her breasts. Below that, glossy black leggings hugged her like a second skin, molding perfectly to the wide flare of her hips and the enormous curve of her ass, the material shiny and slick under the gym lights.
Yuta Okkotsu was already there, moving through a disciplined routine of pull-ups and dumbbell presses. His lean-muscled frame glistened with a light sheen of sweat, black hair slightly tousled, dark-blue eyes focused. He wore a simple gray tank and shorts that showed off the defined lines of his arms and chest.
Yuria picked a machine near him, deliberately loading only the lightest weights. She made a show of struggling, pouting cutely as she tried to adjust the seat for the third time. Yuta noticed almost immediately. His kind nature kicked in the moment he saw her “helpless” expression.
“Need a hand?” he asked, voice calm and warm as he approached with that gentle smile. “First few sessions in a new gym can be tricky.”
Yuria looked up at him with big, doe-like hazel eyes and beamed. “Oh, yes please, Yuta-san~ I’d really appreciate it.”
He corrected her form with careful touches, his strong but gentle hands lightly guiding her waist and shoulders, fingers brushing hers as he helped adjust her grip on the handles. The contact was innocent on the surface, but Yuria felt it like electricity. His dark-blue eyes softened when he saw the hint of loneliness she was carefully projecting.
“Megumi’s working overtime again,” she murmured, voice low and a little sad. The words hung between them as the weights clinked softly. “He’s always so busy lately… I barely see him.”
Yuta stood just behind her right shoulder, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hands hovered near her elbows, gently correcting her posture without quite touching.
“That sounds tough,” he said quietly, genuine concern threading through his calm tone. “New apartment… it can feel lonely even when you’re not actually alone.”
Yuria bit her lower lip and nodded, letting the movement make her heavy breasts strain visibly against the tight sports bra. She released the bar slowly, turning her head just enough to look up at him with those big hazel eyes.
“I have a two-year Associate’s Degree in Hospitality and Tourism Management,” she continued, almost shyly, like she was confessing something embarrassing. “I used to dream about working at high-end hotels or helping manage luxury events… the kind of place where everything feels elegant and exciting. But working those normal nine-to-five hours just felt like settling, you know? Like I was boxing myself into something small when I wanted… more.”
She let the last word linger, soft and loaded.
Yuta’s dark-blue eyes softened. For a moment he didn’t answer, simply watching her face instead of correcting her form. His gaze flicked, almost against his will, down to the way sweat glistened along her collarbone and the deep valley between her breasts before he quickly looked back up.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting more,” he replied carefully, voice lower than before. “You shouldn’t have to shrink yourself to fit someone else’s schedule. Or anyone’s expectations.”
Yuta listened attentively, nodding with genuine understanding. “You need to do what makes you comfortable. There’s no need to force yourself into something that doesn’t feel right.”
Yuria’s heart fluttered. She looked up at him with sparkling eyes. “Yuta-san… your words are so kind. No one ever says things like that to me.”
He gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “I work from home today, so I’m in no rush. I’ll stick around and make sure you’re comfortable with the machines.”
“You always know exactly what to say, Yuta-san…” she whispered, letting a small, grateful smile curve her lips. “It’s nice. Talking to someone who actually listens.”
Yuta cleared his throat and took a half-step back, putting polite space between them again. But his fingers flexed at his sides, and the muscle in his jaw tightened, like he was physically stopping himself from stepping right back into her warmth.
He gave her a small, gentle smile that didn’t quite hide the conflict in his eyes.
“Keep your shoulders down on the next set,” he said, changing the subject, though his voice had grown a touch rougher. “I’ll spot you.”
Wow, she thought, biting her lip as heat pooled low in her belly.
He’s even better than I imagined.
But her mind was already racing ahead, scheming.
Working from home… alone in that penthouse all day…
The innocent physical contact continued as he helped her through a few more exercises, his hands steady on her waist, their fingers brushing again and again.
Yuria felt the spark building between them. She bit her lower lip, thighs pressing together as warmth spread between her legs. Yuta, for his part, had to force himself to step back after the last set, jaw tight, clearly fighting the way his body was reacting to her closeness.
──────•✦•────────────•✦•────────────•✦•──────
Later that afternoon, Yuria decided it was time to escalate.
She changed into a soft sundress that clung to every curve of her body like it had been poured on. She wears no bra, just smooth, lotion-soft skin underneath that smelled faintly of vanilla and flowers.
She took the resident elevator up to the rooftop lounge level first, the same place they’d had dinner the night before. The indoor pool sparkled beside the open-air lounge, but she didn’t stop there. Instead, she “accidentally” wandered toward the far end of the rooftop terrace where a discreet, unmarked private staircase connected the lounge level directly to the penthouse landing above.
She had noticed it last night during dinner, clearly meant for penthouse access and maintenance, but the gate had been left slightly ajar by a staff member earlier that day. Yuria smiled to herself as she slipped through.
Perfect. If anyone asks, I was just exploring the building as a new resident and got a little lost…
She climbed the short flight of stairs, heart racing with excitement, and stepped onto the private penthouse landing. The door to Yuta’s unit was right there. She knocked softly, adjusting the sundress so it clung even more provocatively.
Yuta opened the door a moment later, fresh out of the shower. He wore only loose gray sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt that clung lightly to his still-damp, lean-muscled torso. His dark hair was tousled, dark-blue eyes widening slightly in surprise.
“Yuria? Is everything okay?”
She gave him her sweetest, most innocent smile.
“Hi, Yuta-san… I’m so sorry to bother you. I was trying to find the rooftop garden extension from the lounge and I must have taken the wrong stairs. I got completely turned around.” She held up a small empty measuring cup she’d brought as a prop. “I was going to borrow a cup of sugar for baking, but now I feel silly…”
Yuta hesitated only a second before his kindness won out. “It’s fine. Come in for a moment, I’ll get it for you.”
He let her inside.
Yuria’s breath caught as she stepped into the massive penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic breathtaking view of the city. Modern luxury furnishings filled the open space, sleek sofas, art pieces, a grand staircase leading up to a visible second-floor loft. Through the glass doors she could see a private outdoor pool and garden terrace that looked like something from a magazine. The entire place screamed refined success and quiet power.
“A real man deserves a place like this…” she murmured, voice soft and awed, eyes lingering on him.
She followed him into the sleek kitchen, stepping closer, much closer than necessary, until her breasts pressed firmly against his arm. This time she wasn’t even pretending to be subtle. She lingered there, looking up at him with big hazel eyes.
“Your home is incredible, Yuta-san. So warm and safe… I feel so much better just being here with you.”
The air grew thick with tension. Yuta’s body reacted instantly, his breath catching, muscles tightening, but his morals held firm. He gently created distance, stepping back with a polite smile. “I’m glad you like it. Let me get that sugar for you.”
Before she left, Yuria turned on the full charm. She clung lightly to his forearm, pressing her soft body against him one more time, voice vulnerable and sweet. “Just in case I need help again… could I have your number, Yuta-san? You’ve been so kind, and Megumi’s gone so much…”
Yuta hesitated. The conflict was clear on his face, he thought of Megumi, of their distant family connection, of Rika. But her pleading eyes and the way her fingers brushed his forearm made it impossible to refuse at that moment.
He gave her his number.
──────•✦•────────────•✦•────────────•✦•──────
Walking back down the private stairs and into the resident elevator, Yuria smirked to herself, lips curving with satisfaction.
Megumi is just temporary funding… good dick and a nice allowance. But Yuta? That’s a real man. Powerful, rich, kind, and that body… I want him. I’m going to have him.
──────•✦•────────────•✦•────────────•✦•──────
That evening, when Megumi finally came home from the firm looking stressed and exhausted, Yuria was ready to reward him, and to use him.
She greeted him at the door in nothing but a tiny silk robe that barely covered her ass. The moment the door closed she dropped to her knees in the living room, pulling his cock out and giving him a quick, sloppy blowjob, wet, eager, tongue swirling around the head until he was rock-hard.
Then she led him out onto the balcony. Megumi just follows her lead.
She bent over the wide glass railing, the city skyline stretching endlessly in front of them. Megumi gripped her big, soft ass hard, spreading her cheeks wide as he slammed into her soaked pussy from behind in one rough thrust.
“Ahh.. Megumi!” Yuria moaned loudly, pushing back greedily. Her breasts were smashed against the cool glass railing, sensitive nipples rubbing with every powerful stroke. The city lights twinkled below; anyone looking up from the lower floors might have caught glimpses of her heavy tits bouncing wildly.
Megumi fucked her hard, hips snapping, hands digging into the soft flesh of her ass. Yuria moaned louder than usual, voice breathy and desperate.
In her mind, it wasn’t Megumi.
It was Yuta, those strong, gentle hands on her hips, his dark-blue eyes turning hungry, his cock stretching her instead.
His hands… his cock… his kind voice turning rough with lust…
The fantasy made her wetter, tighter. She came hard, her pussy clenching around Megumi like a vice while she cried out, imagining Yuta filling her instead. Megumi groaned and buried himself deep, flooding her with thick, hot cum as he finished.
Afterward, Yuria turned and cuddled sweetly against his chest, kissing his jaw. But even as she whispered how much she loved to be with him, her thoughts were already upstairs.
I have Yuta’s number today… and tomorrow I’m going to get even closer.
──────•✦•────────────•✦•────────────•✦•──────
Later that night, in the quiet, empty penthouse, Yuta Okkotsu lay in bed unable to focus again.
He kept replaying the way Yuria’s breasts had pressed fully against his arm in the kitchen. He can feel she wears nothing underneath. The way the thin sundress had clung to her body. The needy look in her big hazel eyes when she’d asked for his number.
His cock twitched hard beneath the sheets.
A rare, unwelcome spark of possessive jealousy stirred in his chest.
She’s welcoming Megumi every night… he must be fucking her every day.
He clenched his jaw, staring at the framed photo of Rika on the nightstand.
Satoru Gojo has the world at his feet. As the untouchable CEO of Gojo Enterprise, he is bored, brilliant, and richer than God. But when he storms into a closing bakery demanding the last limited-edition strawberry daifuku, he meets the one thing he can’t buy: Riho Minami.
Riho, an exhausted 23-year-old baker, refuses to sell him her dinner, no matter how many black cards he flashes. Intrigued by her defiance, Satoru begins a relentless, chaotic pursuit of the "Stubborn-chan" who treats him like a normal human.
But as his dangerous corporate world bleeds into her quiet life, they must decide if a love that breaks all the rules is worth the cost of admission.
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Satoru Gojo has the world at his feet. But when he storms into a closing bakery demanding the last limited-edition strawberry daifuku, he meets the one thing he can’t buy: Riho Minami.
Riho, an exhausted 23-year-old baker, refuses to sell him her dinner, no matter how many black cards he flashes. Intrigued by her defiance, Satoru begins a chaotic pursuit of the “Stubborn-chan”.
But as his world bleeds into her quiet life, they must decide if a love that breaks all the rules is worth the cost.
Tags: Romance, Drama, Age Difference, Modern AU-No Powers AU.
Chapter 2: The 5:00 PM Regular
Most people had routines. Riho’s routine was simple: wake up at 10:00 AM, drink bad instant coffee, arrive at Lune et Soleil by noon, bake until her arms felt like lead, and deal with customers until closing.
She liked the rhythm. It was predictable. It was safe.
Until him.
It had been exactly twenty-four hours since the "Strawberry Daifuku Incident," and Riho was currently piping crème pâtissière into choux buns with the focus of a surgeon. The clock on the wall clicked over to 5:00 PM.
Ding-dong.
Riho didn’t even need to look up. The shift in air pressure was enough. The shop, usually filled with the polite murmurs of Omotesando shoppers, suddenly felt… charged.
"Yo! Stubborn-chan!"
Riho squeezed the piping bag a little too hard, burying a choux bun in cream. She sighed, wiped her hands on her apron, and looked up.
There he was.
Satoru was leaning against the doorframe as if he owned the building. Today, the drenched hoodie was gone. In its place was a crisp white t-shirt that looked suspiciously high-quality, the kind that didn’t wrinkle and loose grey sweatpants. He still wore the round, pitch-black sunglasses.
"It’s Riho," she corrected, walking to the register. "Not Stubborn-chan."
"Riho," Satoru tested the name, rolling it around his mouth like a piece of candy. He grinned, strolling to the counter. "Cute. Fits you. A little sharp, a little sweet."
"Are you going to buy something, or are you just here to critique my name?" Riho asked, her hand hovering over the POS system.
"Both," Satoru said cheerfully. He pointed a long finger at the display case. "I’ll take three of those Mont Blancs. And that weird green tea tart. And… hmm. A black coffee. No sugar."
Riho blinked. "That’s a lot of sugar for one person."
"I have a high-stress life," Satoru said, drumming his fingers on the glass. "I need the glucose to keep my brain from overheating."
Riho raised an eyebrow. "High stress? You’re here at 5:00 PM on a Wednesday. Most people are still at work."
Satoru paused. He tilted his head, the sunglasses sliding down just enough for Riho to catch a glimpse of those unnerving blue eyes again. "Work is… flexible for me. I’m sort of a… consultant."
"A consultant," Riho repeated flatly. She scanned him up and down. Expensive shoes. Perfect hair. Hands that looked like they had never washed a dish in their life. "Let me guess. Your dad owns a company, and you ‘consult’ on how to spend the dividends?"
Satoru burst out laughing. It was loud and drew stares from the two other customers in the shop. "Something like that! You’re sharp, Riho-chan. I like that."
He wasn’t denied. He didn’t even look offended.
Riho rang him up. "That will be 3,800 yen."
He tapped the black card against the reader without looking. "Keep the change."
"It’s a card transaction, sir. There is no change."
"Then add a tip. Buy yourself something nice. Like a smile."
Riho glared at him. She handed him his tray. "Please take a seat. I’ll bring the coffee."
For the next hour, Satoru became a fixture in the corner of the shop. He didn't check a phone. He didn't open a laptop. He just sat there, legs stretched out, dismantling the Mont Blancs with surgical precision.
Riho tried to ignore him, but it was impossible. He had a presence that sucked the oxygen out of the room. Every time she looked up, he was watching her, a small smirk playing on his lips.
Finally, the evening rush died down. Riho walked over to clear his table. The plates were empty.
"Well?" she asked, unable to help herself. "How was the glucose?"
Satoru leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. "The tart was excellent. The matcha is high grade. Uji, right?"
Riho nodded, surprised. "Yes."
"But the Mont Blanc," Satoru clicked his tongue. "The chestnut cream is too heavy. It overpowers the meringue base. You’re using too much butter in the puree. It kills the nuttiness."
Riho froze. She had been fighting with the head chef about that exact recipe for weeks. She thought the cream was too fatty, too.
"You… you have a surprisingly refined palate," Riho admitted, clutching the empty tray. "For a.."
"For a trust fund baby?" Satoru finished for her, grinning.
"I was going to say ‘nuisance,’" Riho corrected.
"Ouch. You wound me." Satoru stood up. He towered over her, casting a shadow across the table. "I’m not just a pretty face and a wallet, you know. I know quality when I taste it."
He leaned in close, invading her personal space again. Riho smelled expensive cologne, sandalwood and ozone.
"And you," Satoru whispered, his voice dropping an octave, "are very high quality, Riho-chan."
Riho felt heat rush to her cheeks. She took a step back. "I’m closing the register in ten minutes."
Satoru laughed, straightening up. "Message received. I’ll get out of your hair."
He walked to the door, waving backward without looking. "See you tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow?" Riho called out, dismayed.
"Obviously!" Satoru pushed the door open, the bell chiming cheerfully. "I have to come back until you fix that Mont Blanc cream. I can’t let you serve mediocrity. It’s bad for my soul."
The door swung shut behind him.
Riho stood alone in the shop, clutching the tray. She looked at the empty plate where the Mont Blanc had been.
"Who is that guy?" she whispered to herself.
Outside, a black sedan idled at the curb. Satoru slid into the back seat, his demeanor shifting instantly. The playful grin vanished, replaced by a cold, bored expression.
"To the office, sir?" Matsuda, his massive, stone-faced chauffeur, asked from the front seat, adjusting his aviator sunglasses. "The board has been waiting for forty minutes."
"Let them wait," Satoru murmured, pulling out his phone and glancing at the bakery’s illuminated window. "They’re boring. This… this is interesting."
Moving into Tokyo’s luxurious Glass Tower, Yuria Takahashi finds herself drawn to her neighbor, Yuta Okkotsu.
What starts as stolen glances quickly ignites into a forbidden passion that tests the limits of their desire, loyalty and threatens to consume them both.
Tags: Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Infidelity, Cheating, Married Man, Seduction, Adultery, Age Difference, Sexual Tension, Guilt, Pining, Temptation, Power Imbalance, Modern AU-No Powers AU.
