The front door slams with enough force to rattle the windows.
Poking your head out of the kitchen, you see Keigo kick his shoes off angrily.
"Rough day, anata?"
"Bullshit fucking day!"He slams the refrigerator after grabbing a beer and popping the cap off. "This is all fucking bullshit."
You cock an eyebrow at him. "I'm not psychic..."
"My P.R bitch. Apparently it's bad for my image to date you."
"Excuse me?" You whirl around from the counter to face him. "I'm bad for your image?"
He nods. "Any relationship. Gives off the wrong vibe."
Was this son of a bitch breaking up with you this casually because of his publicist? While you're chopping root vegetables?
Balls of fucking steel.
"Mhm…" you murmur pissily.
"C'mere, kid," he says, putting the beer down.
His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you spine to chest, his lips immediately finding that spot between your neck and shoulder that makes your knees weak.
"What… what are you doing, Kei?" you ask breathlessly as he cups your breasts, his fingers kneading the soft flesh through your t-shirt.
He bites your neck softly. "Playing with my food?"
"But, your publicist?"
He pinches your nipple and you moan.
"Fuck the publicist. Fuck the press. Fuck anyone who isn't us." He releases you for the space of a moment, reaching for the knife you'd discarded. "Try not to breathe, songbird."
"Kei, I-"
The sound of him cutting through your clothes rends the air and you hold your breath, your heart hammering against your ribs. He doesn't stop there, carefully pressing the blade beneath the front clasp of your bra, between the satin and your skin before trailing the cool metal lower.
"I think these can go as well," he whispers, making you shiver as his breath tickles across your nape. "Careful, I wouldn't want this knife to slip."
Your tights are next, falling away beneath the sharp edge.
"No panties? Such a slutty bird." Throwing the knife down, he pushes you up against the counter, his hardening cock grinding against your ass. "Telling me who I can and cannot fuck," he grinds out between gritted teeth, his hands finding your breasts again. "You're fucking mine."
His fingers tighten with bruising intensity, his thumbs teasing across your nipples.
"Kei, anata, it's okay," you moan, clutching the countertop as you push back against him.
He pinches your nipples roughly and twists, forcing a cry from your lips as you shift onto your tiptoes, your back arching sharply.
"All. Fucking. Mine."
His lips tease your throat, his tongue flickering against your skin as his hand slides down between your thighs and cups your pussy possessively.
"Yes," you agree softly, breath hitching as his palm grinds against your clit. "All yours."
"Good girl."
You shiver against him, those words always going right through you. "Fuck," you exhale shakily.
His touch claims and owns as he thrusts three fingers into you roughly. "I'm going to, songbird. I'm going to fuck you right up against the windows so whoever looks up can see how well you take my cock."
"What?" You ask, startled right out of the moment.
His other hand fists your hair, yanking your head back sharply so his mouth can claim yours. "I'm going to fuck you against that window over there," he murmurs against your lips. "Press you up against the glass," his lips caress yours gently before he pulls back a little, "and fuck you until you can't stand."
"Kei, I-" you cry out as his fingers thrust hard and fast, his palm grinding your clit mercilessly. "Fuck, Kei… Daddy…"
"Drench Daddy's hand, songbird. Show me how good you feel."
His fingers curl inside you, pressing against your g-spot and your knees shake. "More, please more, Keigo," you beg breathlessly as your pussy twitches, your walls contracting around him greedily. "Don't fucking stop, don't stop."
"Never, babybird… not when you're singing this sweetly for me." Slanting his mouth across yours, he kisses you hard and deep, his tongue flickering across your parted lips briefly. "Not when you're letting me take it all out on this tight cunt of yours, when you can't hide how fucking badly you want my cock inside you."
You whimper softly, your hands tightening in a death grip on the counter to keep yourself upright.
"You like that, songbird?" He pants against your cheek, his fingers pistoning in and out of you. "You like when I'm this fucking angry and want to destroy you?"
You nod feverishly, incapable of speech as your moans turn into one long whine of pleasure.
