Mourning Doves | Tokyo Ghoul

22 | A r d o r

She laid in bed next to him, blissfully trapped in his strong embrace as her cheek rested on top of his bare chest, feeling it rise and sink softly to the rhythmic samba of his breathing. She swallowed gently, taking in a steadying breath as she closed her eyes, the warmth radiating from his body thawing her icy heart and demolishing the walls surrounding it; she felt at peace, more serene than any period within her tempestuous life.

She drifted asleep, seeing nothing in the blackness but his radiant face. Okajima Ichijou, the man who loved her.

Her fiancé.

Her everything.

Her future.

✿

The dusty dawn disturbed her stillness, the fine hairs upon her body standing up on its ends, though she had no idea why. Etsuko stirred, blinking her eyes hard before opening them, seeing nothing before her but darkness and white sheets. She felt him shift beside her, groaning softly as he turned. Etsuko sat up slowly, careful so she didn't disrupt the man, and gazed down at him with soft eyes, a little smile cracking the corners of her lips.

He looked quiet, calm, and unruffled despite the whole ordeal just a few days back. He had been more flustered about the fact that they were engaged now than anything else, though couldn't say that she didn't feel the same way herself. She had never even considered the fact that she would ever get into a serious relationship, let alone get married. It was a pleasant surprise, as was his baffling acceptance of her true nature, and it felt as though all of the conflicts within her tormented self had been suppressed, if not solved.

Ichijou suddenly groaned again, his breathing heightening as though he was running across the world. Perplexed and sincerely concerned, Etsuko turned to him with wide eyes. His eyes were shut tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, and the sweat could be seen as a thin veil over his darkened skin.

A nightmare, as it seemed.

Well, it could have been a nightmare if it weren't for the giant hard-on he developed under the linen.

Etsuko stifled a scoff, curiously charmed as she raised a teasing eyebrow at the man, hugging herself as her golden eyes gleamed. Even in slumber this man was as lewd as a satyr. She sputtered out a quiet laugh, the villainous gleam flickering like a dying candle within her wicked eyes. She purred.

Etsuko tossed a gentle leg across the sleeping man's figure, straddling his hips as she dipped down, kissing the man's bare chest and dragging her lips down, the tip of her tongue tracing a glistening trail of moisture down his trunk. She heard his breath hitch, but nothing signaling her that he had awoken; she trudged on.

Her hands slipped down to his hips, groping it gently as she kissed him tenderly down his chest, to the dip of his abs, and down to the light happy trail that led down into his swelling bulge. She felt him flinch as she grazed her hips across his erection, poking out painfully through his boxer briefs, pitching a rather large tent that made her mound slick with lust. She held her breath, and then kissed her way back up his body again.

Hips. Abs. Chest. She dragged the tip of her tongue across those regions and came back up to his neck, smiling as she closed her eyes and kissed the crook between his neck and shoulders, sucking on the skin lightly at first but increasing the pressure with every pull of her mouth. Ichijou moaned, his hips bucking once, and his fingers curling on the sheets as he sought for stability in his turbulent slumber; his brows furrowed.

Etsuko released the spot on his neck, an angry red mark replacing her lips in turn, and pecked her way down to his collarbone, where she repeated the action, her white hands crawling up his body and over his erect nipples. His chest was hard and as was his neck, straining from the painful pleasure that assailed him in his sleep. He was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring as his sensitive body felt the sucking that pulled at his skin, dotting his body in the same livid marks that had started upon his neck. Etsuko seethed a breath through her teeth, sinking back down, down towards the throbbing erection that already dampened the apex of the fabric tent, staining it a lecherous dark gray.