One Piece: Lust Haki

The note was under my door when I got back from the mess hall.

Folded once. No seal. Her handwriting, the precise brushstrokes she used for evaluations and tactical memos. Three words.

My quarters. 2200.

No signature. None needed. I folded the note. Put it in my boot. The clock on the barracks wall said 2130.

I sat on my bunk. The recruit above me was reading. The barracks was quiet. I sat and I waited and I knew what the note was and what it wasn't and the thirty minutes were long.

I knocked at 2200. The brass plate with her name.

She opened the door.

Silk robe. Dark blue, almost black. Her hair was down, loose on her shoulders, the curly black falling past her collarbones. No uniform. No heels. Barefoot on the wood floor.

No lipstick.

Her mouth was bare. The mole below it was darker without the red framing it and her lips were their natural color.

"Come in."

I came in. She closed the door behind me. The room was the same as last time. The desk, the papers, Konpira's cleaning kit by the window, the blue sheets on the bed. Wine on the low table. Two glasses. One already poured.

She picked up the poured glass and drank. Then she set it down.

"This isn't a training session," she said.

"I know."

She looked at me. Barefoot, she was shorter. Looking up at me for the first time.

"If I do this," she said, "I can't undo it. You understand that."

"I understand that better than you think."

She studied my face. Her jaw relaxed a fraction. Her shoulders dropped.

She untied the robe.

The silk fell open. She was naked underneath. Slim waist, the muscle tone of a swordswoman visible in her arms and stomach, her breasts small and bare and her nipples dark and she was standing in front of me with the robe open and the blue silk framing her body.

I was looking at her face.

Her chin had lifted, braced for the survey. My eyes didn't travel.

"You're not looking," she said.

"I'm looking at the part that matters."

Her bare mouth pressed together and the mole shifted and she exhaled through her nose, a half-laugh she couldn't hold closed.

She stepped forward. The robe fell off her shoulders. Her hands found my collar, the buttons, and she was undressing me with the same precision she used for everything else. Each button. My shirt pulled off my shoulders and her hands on my chest, the calluses from Konpira rough against my skin. My belt. She was focused and efficient and her fingers were steady and then her hand pressed flat against my stomach and she stopped.

Her hand was trembling. Just a fraction.

I put my hand over hers. Held it against my stomach. Her fingers stilled.

"We can stop," I said.

"Don't you dare."

Her mouth found mine. The kiss was different without the lipstick. Softer. Her lips warm and bare and she tasted like wine and nothing else and the waxy floral was gone and it was just her mouth. Her hand slid from my stomach to my hip and she pulled me toward the bed.

I went.

She pushed me down and climbed on top.

I was on my back on the blue sheets and she was above me, knees on either side of my hips, her hair falling around her face. Her hands on my chest, fingers spread. She was looking down at me and her dark eyes were steady and her bare mouth was set.

Her hips shifted. She reached between us and her fingers wrapped around my cock and the grip was sure and she positioned me and the first contact was hot and wet against her and her thighs tightened on my hips.

She sank down.

The first inch was tight. She was tight and hot and the resistance gave way slowly as she took me. She controlled the depth. An inch. Another. Her breathing changed and her jaw tightened and her fingers on my chest pressed harder and her nails dug in and she was adjusting and her body was opening around me, wet and gripping.

She took all of me.

Her weight settled onto my hips. The full depth. Her mouth opened and a breath came out, short and sharp, and her eyes closed and her thighs were tight against my sides and the heat of her was everywhere.

My hands went to her hips. The skin was smooth and warm and the muscle underneath was taut and my grip tightened.

She moved.

Her hips rolled. Slow. A grind, her weight staying on me while she circled her hips and the angle changed with every rotation and every inch of the motion was inside her. Slow and deliberate and she was watching my face. Reading me.

I let my Observation open.

Her heartbeat. Fast. Faster than the composure allowed. Her breathing, shallow, controlled by will. The tremor in her inner thighs. The micro-tension in her lower stomach. And underneath all of it, the heat building where our bodies connected.

She rolled her hips and the angle shifted and her breath caught.

There.

I put both hands on her hips and guided her back to that angle. She resisted for a second, her hands pressing down on my chest, and then her hips found the angle again and her breath caught again and her jaw tightened.

"You stopped breathing," I said.

Her eyes snapped to mine. Wide. The composure cracked.

"How did you-"

"I pay attention."

She stared at me. Then her hips moved again, harder, the same angle, and the breath caught again and this time the sound was real. A short sharp "Ah-" that she cut off by pressing her lips together.

I rolled my hips up to meet her. She gasped. The sound was louder and she hadn't cut it off in time and her nails were in my chest now, ten points of sharp pressure, and her thighs were gripping.

"Right there," I said. "I can feel you."

"Stop-" Her hips didn't stop. She was grinding harder, faster, the wet sounds between us getting louder, and her hair was falling across her face and her bare mouth was open and she was biting her lower lip and the bite was hard enough to whiten the skin.

Her heartbeat hammering. Her stomach tensing in rhythmic contractions. The heat between us was a wall and her skin was slick where our bodies pressed together and the friction was changing as she got wetter, the slide easier, the sounds wetter, her weight driving down onto me with each roll of her hips.

I watched her face.

The composure was going. Her eyebrows were drawing together. Her jaw was loose. The lip-biting was constant, her teeth pressing into her lower lip and releasing and pressing again, and her eyes were losing focus.

I thrust up into her. Hard.

"Ah-!" The sound was real and full and she didn't cut it off. Her whole body jolted and her hands slammed down onto my chest for balance and her hair swung forward and her breasts moved with the impact and she was breathing hard and fast through her open mouth.

I did it again. She was wetter now and the thrust slid deep and the wet sound was loud in the quiet room and her thighs clenched and her head dropped forward and her hair curtained around both of us.

"Ka-" She started my name and the second thrust cut it off. Her hips were moving on their own now, meeting mine, and the rhythm was faster than either of us had set and the bed was shifting under us and the sounds were constant, wet and rhythmic and the slap of her body against mine and her breath in sharp bursts.

I gripped her hips and pulled her down as I thrust up and the depth made her back arch and her head went back and her throat was exposed and the tendons stood out in her neck and the mole below her mouth was dark against the flushed skin.

The tension in her stomach, the muscles in her thighs shaking, the way she was clenching around me in pulses getting faster. Her lip-biting had stopped. Her mouth was open and she couldn't close it and she didn't know it was open.

"Gion."

Her eyes found mine. Close and dark and blown wide and she was looking at me and she couldn't look away. Her hips moving and her body gripping me and the wet sounds filling the room and her mouth open.

She came.

Quiet. A sharp breath in that stopped halfway and her whole body locked. Her nails drove into my chest. Her thighs clamped against my sides. She clenched around me so hard my vision narrowed and the sound she made was my name cut in half. "Ka-" and then nothing. Her mouth open. Her eyes closed. Her body a single sustained contraction and her face blank and open and gone.

I came watching her face.

The edge hit me when she clenched and the last thrust was deep and uncontrolled and I pulled her hips down onto me and came inside her and her body was still contracting around me and my hands were gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks and her name was in my mouth.

She collapsed onto my chest.

Her weight. Her breathing, ragged and hot against my collarbone. Her hair everywhere, across my face, across the pillow, sticking to the sweat on both of us. Her heartbeat against my chest, hammering, and mine hammering back.

The room was quiet. The wine on the table untouched in the second glass. Konpira's cleaning kit by the window. The moonlight rectangle on the floor.

Her nails had left half-moons in my chest. She turned her head and her cheek was against my collarbone and her mouth was near my ear.

"How," she said. Her voice was rough and quiet. "How are you doing that."

"I pay attention."

She exhaled. The breath was warm on my neck and it became a sound that was almost a laugh and she pressed her forehead against my shoulder and her body was still on mine and we were still connected.

My hand found her hair. The curls were damp at the roots. I held them and she let me and the room was dark and her weight on my chest was warm and heavy and real.

Still hard inside her. She could feel it too because she shifted and the shift made both of us catch our breath.

Round one.