#horika

Her alabaster skin flushed under his touch as his hands deftly glided around the smooth surface of her thighs, every move a stroke of paint upon her willing canvas. Her sharp intake of breath was a whispered prayer, brought forth by the incense of their passions, to the fire that glowed within them. Through his calloused fingertips, he stoked the flames of lust that singed the edges of her mind, pulling her further into the hazy trance of their passions.

“Masayuki…”

He stopped, eyes brimming with lust, drawing their way up the curve of her legs, past the androgynous flare of her hips, past the smooth column of her neck, finally resting squarely on her face. In the darkened space of the storeroom, her eyes seemed to glimmer faintly with mirth. His eyebrow raised in challenge.

“I know you wanted to jump me as soon as possible, but did you have to pull us into the drama closet?”