Ch.39
Rias came to my room at eleven.
She didn't knock anymore. The door slid open and she walked in and closed it behind her and she was wearing a tank top and sleep shorts and her crimson hair was loose and damp from a shower. She had a bottle of massage oil in one hand. She held it up without a word.
"That bad?"
"Akeno's lightning drills." She rolled her left shoulder and winced. "She's been pushing the voltage since yesterday. My deltoids feel like they've been microwaved."
She'd been coming every night this week. The first night she'd showed up because she couldn't sleep and wanted to talk about Riser's peerage. The second night she'd come because the talk turned into her falling asleep on my futon and neither of us had moved her. The third night she'd brought the oil and asked me to work on her shoulders and somewhere between her shoulders and her lower back she'd turned over and looked at me and we'd stopped pretending.
Night eight. She walked in with the oil and I sat up and she handed me the bottle and lay face-down on the futon.
I straddled her thighs. Poured oil into my palms. Warm. It smelled like eucalyptus, Akeno's purchase from town. I put my hands on her shoulders and started working.
She groaned. Deep, the sound of muscles that had been tortured all day finally getting relief. Her shoulders were knotted, the tension visible under her skin, and the bruises from Akeno's lightning were dark marks along her trapezius. I dug my thumbs into the knots and she hissed and her fingers curled against the futon.
"Harder."
I pressed deeper. Her shoulder popped and she exhaled through her teeth and the tension released. I moved to the other side. Same knots, same bruises. She was pushing herself every day because the Rating Game was in two days and she knew the math and her body was paying for it.
My hands moved down her back. Her spine, the muscles along it, the dimples at the base where her tank top had ridden up and her skin was bare. She was warm under my hands. The oil made her skin slick and her body was loosening under me, the rigid tension of the training day draining out.
"Mm."
Lower. My thumbs found the spot above her hips where the muscle met the curve of her ass. I pressed and she arched, her lower back lifting off the futon, and the sound changed. Softer. Lower in her throat.
My hands stayed there. Thumbs working the muscle just above her waistband, the heels of my palms on her lower back, and her breathing changed under me. Slower. Deeper. Her hips pressed into the futon and then lifted slightly, a motion she was aware of and doing anyway.
She looked back at me over her shoulder. Her blue-green eyes half-closed. Her crimson hair spread across the pillow. Her mouth curved.
"You're still tense," I said.
"Am I."
"Right here." My thumbs dug into the muscles at the top of her ass, just below the waistband, and she bit her lip and her hips pressed down. My cock was stiffening against the back of her thigh and she had to feel it through my shorts.
"That's not a massage."
"It's adjacent."
She laughed. Quiet, into the pillow. Then she reached back and pulled her tank top over her head and dropped it on the floor. "Fine. Do the front too."
She turned over.
Her breasts were bare. Full, pale, her nipples already hard. The bruises from training were on her ribs too, dark marks from blocked strikes, and the oil from her back glistened on her stomach where it had transferred from the futon. She looked up at me with those blue-green eyes and her crimson hair was fanned across the pillow and she was waiting.
I put my hands on her stomach. Oil still warm on my palms. I worked upward, slow, her ribs under my fingers, and she sucked in a breath when I reached the underside of her breasts. I circled there. Along the curve, under them, not touching her nipples. Her chest rose and fell faster and her hips shifted under me.
"You're avoiding them on purpose."
"I'm being thorough."
"Be thorough somewhere else."
My hands slid over her breasts. The oil made her skin slick and her nipples dragged against my palms and she arched up and "ah-" the sound was sharp and her eyes closed. I circled her nipples with my thumbs. Slow. Pressing. Her mouth opened and her breathing went audible through her lips. Her hips rocked up against me, deliberate, and my cock was hard now, pressed against the front of my shorts, pressed against her through the fabric of hers.
The heat of her came through both layers.
I pulled her shorts down. She lifted her hips. No underwear. She never wore any to my room anymore. Her pussy was wet, the lamplight catching the shine of it on her inner thighs.
I pushed my shorts off. My cock against her, resting against the slick heat, and she inhaled and her hips tilted up.
I pushed in.
Slow. She was wet enough that I slid in easy, the heat closing around me, and the tightness was familiar now but it still made my breath catch. She took me to the hilt in one long stroke and her breath came out in a shudder and her hands found my shoulders and gripped.
I lifted her legs. Over my shoulders, one ankle on each side of my neck, and the angle changed. Steep. I sank deeper inside her and she made a sound, "oh-" her eyes going wide, her fingers digging into the futon. Her thighs were against my chest, her calves on my shoulders, and I braced my hands on either side of her head. The angle was tight and deep, the head of my cock pressing against her front wall in a way the regular missionary hadn't.
"That's- ah-"
I thrust. The angle drove deep and the drag on the outstroke was slow and tight and her pussy gripped me and the oil on her thighs made them slide against my chest. She grabbed the futon on either side of her head, both fists in the fabric. Her crimson hair was everywhere. Her breasts rocked with each push.
"Harder."
I gave her harder. Longer strokes, pulling back until her pussy clenched on just the head and then driving in deep, and the wet sounds were loud in the room. The oil on her skin and the wetness between her legs and the slick friction of the angle. Her body sliding on the oiled futon with each thrust.
"Ah- there- right there- don't stop-"
She didn't hold back. Her voice climbing, her commands coming between gasps, her blue-green eyes on mine. She held eye contact and her jaw was set.
I thrust harder. My arms straining from holding her legs up, the muscles in my back working, sweat forming on my shoulders. Her pussy was clenching on every outstroke, gripping, reluctant, and opening on each push, wetter now, slicker, the sounds louder. The oil on her stomach flexed with each impact. Her breasts swayed. Sweat was beading between them and at her temples where her crimson hair stuck to her skin.
"Faster- Ise- ah- faster-"
Her commands fragmenting. Her voice going rough. Her blue-green eyes were losing focus, the pupils blown wide, and her mouth was open and her hair was tangled across the pillow and stuck to her neck with sweat.
Her fingertips flickered.
Red-black energy. Destruction, leaking from her nails, tiny crackles dancing across her fingertips where they gripped the futon. She didn't notice. Her eyes were glazed and her hips were driving up to meet mine and the red-black sparks scorched tiny spots into the futon fabric. I grabbed her wrists. Pinned them beside her head. The Destruction sparked against my palms, warm spots blooming on my skin, not enough to burn.
I thrust deep and held. Grinding the base of my cock against her clit, her legs on my shoulders, her body bent nearly in half, her wrists in my hands.
"Ise- ah- I'm-"
She came. Her pussy clamped around me and her back bowed off the futon and the Destruction flared bright at her fingertips, red-black energy crackling against my palms, hot spots blooming up my wrists, and she gasped my name and her legs locked on my shoulders and her body shook in long rolling waves.
I was close. The clenching of her orgasm around my cock, the heat, the Destruction sparks on my hands. I let go of her wrists and thrust through her orgasm, her body still shaking, and she made broken sounds against the pillow, "ah- ah- nn-" and her freed hands grabbed my arms and pulled. The edge hit. My rhythm fell apart. Shorter thrusts, harder, driving deep on each one, and the tightness of her post-orgasm clenching was almost too much. I came inside her. Hard. Buried deep. My cock pulsing and the heat of it flooding between us and my hips flush against hers and her legs still on my shoulders.
I lowered her legs. Slowly. Her thighs slid off my shoulders and her legs fell open on the futon and she was breathing hard, her chest heaving, her skin flushed and oil-slick and spotted with sweat. The warm spots on my arms and wrists where her Destruction had touched were fading to pink.
She looked at the marks on my wrists. Touched one with her finger.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
"It happens when I-" She stopped. Her cheeks had color that wasn't from exertion. "When it's intense. The power leaks."
"I know."
She traced the mark on my wrist. Her nail followed the edge of it, the warm skin where her Destruction had touched, and her mouth twitched.
I pulled out of her. She sighed at the withdrawal. The mess was visible between her thighs, the slickness of cum and her wetness on the oil-stained futon. She lay there for a minute, breathing slowing, eyes on the ceiling. Then she sat up. Pushed her hair back.
"Hot springs."
"Now?"
"Everyone's asleep. I checked."
She stood. Pulled the tank top on but didn't bother with the shorts. I pulled my shorts on and followed her into the hallway. The villa was dark. A clock ticked somewhere. Koneko's door was closed. Asia's was closed. Kiba's room at the far end showed no light.
The hot springs were behind the villa, a natural pool fed by mountain runoff, the water heated by a volcanic seam underground. Steam rose from the surface into the mountain air. Stars bright above us. The water black and still.
Rias pulled the tank top off and walked in. Her body pale in the starlight, her crimson hair dark where the steam dampened it, and she sank to her shoulders and tipped her head back.
I stripped and followed. The heat hit my calves, my thighs, my waist. Almost too hot. The volcanic seam kept it at a temperature that bordered on painful and became perfect once you adjusted. The Destruction marks on my wrists tingled in the hot water.
She was leaning against the stone edge, her arms along the rim, her breasts floating at the waterline. Steam curled around her face. Her eyes were closed.
I moved to her. Put my hands on the stone on either side of her. She opened her eyes. Blue-green, close, lit by starlight.
"Already?"
"Already."
She looked down through the water at my cock, hard against her thigh, and she reached down and wrapped her hand around me and stroked once under the surface. Her grip was different in the hot water, slicker, and my hips pushed forward into her hand.
"Quiet," I said. "The windows are open."
"I know."
She guided me to her. The angle was different standing in water and I pushed in and she was tight and hot and the water changed the friction, slicker, the heat of her and the heat of the water blending until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. She wrapped one leg around my hip, her back against the stone, and I braced my feet on the pool bottom and thrust.
"Nn-"
Bitten off. Her jaw clenched and her hand found the stone rim behind her and gripped. The water rippled around us. She was trying to be quiet and the effort showed in her jaw and her neck and the tendons standing taut.
Slow. Deep. The water resisting each pull-back and assisting each push. Her body slick against mine, her breasts pressed against my chest, the hot water at our waists and the cool mountain air on our shoulders. My cock was sensitive from having come already and the tightness of her in this position, standing, gravity pulling us together, made every thrust sharper. The cum from before was still inside her and the friction was different, wetter, thicker.
"Ah-" Through her teeth. She pressed her mouth against my shoulder and the sound came out muffled against my skin. Her arm wrapped around my neck. Her leg pulled me deeper.
Faster. The water churned around us, the soft splash rhythmic, and she was clenching around me on every thrust and her breathing was fast and hot against my shoulder. Sounds escaping against my skin. "Nn- nn-" Muffled and broken, each one slightly louder than the last, the effort to suppress them losing ground.
Her teeth found my shoulder.
She bit down. Hard. The pain cut through the heat and the pleasure and I jerked and thrust deeper and she clenched around me. Her teeth dug in, her jaw locked, and she was using my shoulder as a gag, all the sounds she couldn't make going into the bite. I thrust harder. The pain and the pleasure running together up my spine. Her free hand gripped the stone rim, her knuckles white, and the Destruction flickered at her fingertips again, red-black sparks on the wet stone.
The water was splashing now, rhythmic and obvious, and neither of us could stop. Her pussy was clenching in waves around me and my thrusts were getting shorter and harder and less controlled. The bite tightened.
She came with her teeth in my shoulder and her body rigid against mine and her pussy clenching so hard it hurt. The bite held. Her whole body trembling against me, the hot water sloshing around us, a strangled sound vibrating through her locked jaw into my shoulder and through my bones.
I came seconds later. Inside her, deep, the orgasm sharp, my hips stuttering against hers, pressing her against the stone. The steam swirled around us.
The bite released. She pressed her forehead against the shoulder she'd bitten and her breath was ragged and hot on my wet skin.
The springs were quiet. Water dripping somewhere. Steam rising into the stars.
She lifted her head. Looked at my shoulder. The bite mark was red and deep and she touched it with her fingertip.
"That's going to bruise."
"Asia will heal it."
Her mouth opened. Closed. A beat.
"Akeno will notice it first."
"Probably."
She leaned her head against my other shoulder. The hot water lapped at our waists. Her crimson hair floated on the surface, dark red in the starlight, spreading around us.
"Two more days," she said.
"Yeah."
Her hand found mine under the water. Her fingers laced through mine and squeezed.
We stayed in the water until our fingers pruned.