One Piece: Lust Haki

She got up to get water.

I watched her walk. Naked, barefoot on the wood floor, her back to me, the curly black hair between her shoulder blades and the long line of her spine and the muscle in her legs moving as she walked. Her combat stance and her walk had the same economy.

She filled a glass at the small basin by the window. The moonlight was on her. Her profile, the curve of her waist, the mole below her mouth.

She caught me staring. Looked over her shoulder.

"You're still looking."

"You walked past the window. The moonlight is doing a thing."

The corner of her bare mouth pulled up. She brought the water back. Drank half, handed me the rest. I drank. The water was cold and it cut through the taste of wine and sweat and her.

She sat on the bed beside me. Cross-legged, naked, her hair a mess and the sweat drying on her collarbones. She was tracing the bruise on my ribs with her fingertips.

The bruise was purple and yellow at the edges. Isuka's rapier, three days ago.

"She hits hard," Gion said. Her finger followed the edge of the bruise, light.

"She does."

Gion didn't ask who. She knew it was sparring. Her fingertip traced the outline. Her hand on the mark someone else had left on my body. She traced it twice, then her hand moved to my chest and spread flat.

"Your heart rate dropped fast," she said.

"Observation."

"That explains the earlier, then." She looked at me. Sitting naked beside me with her hand on my chest. "You were reading me the entire time."

"I was reading what your body was telling me."

"Same thing."

"Better thing."

Her fingers tapped my chest once. A correction. Then she leaned down and kissed me and the kiss was slow and her bare mouth was warm and my cock stirred against her thigh and she could feel it too because she pulled back and looked down and then looked at me.

"Already?"

"You walked past the window."

She exhaled. The sound that was almost a laugh. Her hand on my chest. She lay back.

On her back. On the blue sheets with her hair spread around her head and her body bare and she was looking up at me.

"Your turn," she said.

I moved over her. My weight between her thighs. She opened her legs and wrapped them around my lower back and her heels locked behind me.

I reached between us. Found her. Still wet, slick and hot, and when my cock pressed against her she was already open and the slide in was easy and deep and her mouth opened and the sound was immediate. No suppression. No lip-biting.

I sank in. All the way. Deeper than from on top because the angle was different and my weight pushed me further and she took it and her back arched off the sheets and her nails found my shoulders.

"Ah- fuck-"

I pulled back. Slow. Every inch of the withdrawal, her body clenching, trying to keep me, the wet sound of it. Then I pushed back in. The re-entry was wetter and the depth was the same and her head pressed back into the pillow and her throat was long and exposed.

I set the pace. Each thrust deliberate, full depth, pulling back until just the head was inside and then pushing in all the way and the sound of it wet and rhythmic in the quiet room. Her legs tightened around my back on every thrust and her heels dug in and her hands were on my shoulders, gripping.

"You feel different from this angle," I said.

"Nn-" She couldn't answer. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open and I was above her, close, my arms on either side of her head.

I adjusted the angle. Tilted my hips. The Observation reading her micro-tensions, and I found the angle that made her stomach contract and her thighs shake and I held it.

Her back arched. Her nails dragged down my shoulders. Her mouth opened wider and the sounds were coming in bursts, short and sharp, matching each thrust. "Ah- ah- ah-"

I sped up. The wet sounds were loud. The bed was shifting. Her body rocking with each thrust and her breasts moving with the impact and her hair spread across the pillow and her face flushed and her bare mouth open and she was gripping my shoulders hard enough that her nails were breaking skin.

"Fuck- you-" The words started and didn't finish. The sentences were going. She was tight around me and her legs were pulling me deeper and her sounds were in my ear and my hips were moving faster and I was losing the thinking.

She opened her eyes. Looked up at me. Her dark eyes glassy and her mouth open.

"There," she said. Her voice was rough and broken and she was smiling. "You go quiet when it means something."

I kissed her. Hard. My mouth on hers and my hips driving and her legs locked around me and the kiss was messy and desperate and we were both gone.

The rhythm broke apart. Faster. Her hips meeting mine and the sounds filling the room and the bed hitting the wall and the wine glass on the nightstand rattling and my hands gripping her hips and the pressure building and building and her body gripping me in pulses, faster, tighter-

My hands hardened.

The Armament came without thought. The skin on my hands went dark and dense where they gripped her hips and a low pulse radiated outward through the room and the wine glass on the nightstand vibrated against the wood with a high ringing sound.

Gion went still beneath me.

I came. Inside her, deep, my hands still hardened on her hips, the Armament crackling along my forearms, and the release was in my body and the Haki simultaneously and the pulse expanded and the wine glass slid an inch across the nightstand and Gion's eyes were wide and staring at my hands.

The density change. She'd felt it. Her body was still clenching around me and her legs were still locked behind my back and my hands were slowly relaxing, the dark skin fading back to normal.

The room was quiet. The wine glass was still.

She looked at my hands. Then at my face.

"Your Armament just-"

"I know."

We stared at each other. My hands on her hips, normal again, and both of us breathing hard and I was still inside her.

She reached down and touched my hands. Turned them over. Examined my palms. Her fingers were shaking.

"That's not normal, Kael."

"I know."

I pulled out. Slowly. Lay down beside her. The ceiling above us and the moonlight rectangle further across the floor and the room smelled like sex and sweat and the wine we'd never drunk from the second glass.

She turned onto her side. Her hand on my chest. Her fingers tracing the half-moons her nails had left. Her eyes were moving between my hands and my face and the wine glass on the nightstand and back to my hands.

"We're going to need to talk about your Haki," she said.

"Not tonight."

"Soon."

"Soon."

Her fingers kept tracing. My chest. The bruise from Isuka. The nail marks. Her head on the pillow beside mine and her hair everywhere and the curls still damp and she was fighting sleep and losing.

"Stay," she said. Quiet.

"I'm staying."

Her hand stopped moving. Her breathing changed. Her weight settled against my side and her leg hooked over mine and she was asleep in under a minute.

I lay there. The ceiling. The moonlight. The glass on the nightstand that had moved an inch.

She was one conversation away from questions I couldn't answer.

Soon.

Her leg was hooked over mine. Her breath was warm on my shoulder.

The moonlight rectangle moved across the floor.