FIFTEEN

F lower~ Power Over Me Part 1

( CWs: Self harm)

I slip into the almost too hot water filled with one of the vanilla-rose bubble baths I had in my duffle bag. I love how Akchiro thinks he had my favorite scent removed from my suite. I'm always prepared. I've safely hidden it away because I know once he smells it on me tonight, he's going to lose his mind. He loves that scent on me. I need every advantage when it comes to my ruthless, cruel husband. So, vanilla-rose in my arsenal is a must. His pride won't let him ask or demand it, he'll send his minions instead, but they wouldn't dare go through my personal items.

I will be using everything I can to my advantage. He's shown me there is nothing he won't use to mete out his punishment. I've decided to give him like for like whenever possible but in a way that suits me. I will counter his punishment with pleasure, I won't be reactive to his cruelty. This morning can never happen again.

"Ahh," I sink down into the water feeling the sting in my inner thigh where I pinned myself. Lifting my thigh, I see the two tiny balls of silver glinting in the light.

This morning when he left after we had sex —because that's all it will ever be between us now if he has his way—sex, I was so overwhelmed with emotion. I couldn't stop crying.

Dr. Ito came in to see how I was fairing after my first night of trying to conceive —like I had a choice, seeing how upset I was, she said they would postpone my visit with Asa if I remained visibly upset, because it would be too disruptive to his routine. I didn't want that. I got it. Shame laced through me at her words. I promised to get it together. She offered something to calm me. I refused, wanting nothing to alter me in front of Akchiro. He would instantly know.

Once she left. I came in here, locked the door and sat in the corner like I used to when I was a teen lonely and afraid in boarding school. Slowly and with great care I took the two pins and pressed them into the thickest part of my inner left thigh. Peace wrapped around me like a blanket. Relief wafted over me like God's grace. Silent tears flowed. Not from pain this time but from the relief I felt.

By the time I had to see Akchiro again I had myself under control. Asa being there and being able to see and touch him, to bury my nose in his soft curls and inhale his sweet baby boy scent made the hell I must endure with his father worth it.

I ease the pins out watching the thin thread of blood spill and dissolve into the water. They barely bleed. The whole thing is like watching a pressure valve release. All the stress and tension from the intense conversation earlier today, the sex last night and this morning all melt away. My life is chaos. But this, I can control this. It's the only thing I have in my power. I can't see my son when I wish, I'm being kidnapped and held prisoner by my husband on a yacht somewhere in a location unknown, while he seeks to make me have another baby, I'm not sure I'm ready for. "You're only the vessel," I remind myself rolling the pins on the tub's rim. He probably won't let me have a relationship with the kids, just like he promised when he caught me. He's nothing if not resolute.

I close my eyes willing myself to visualize my future filled with happiness and love, being careful not to demand, just accept the love and peace I want. I try my best to see myself happy again one day even in the midst of despair. I'm not aware how long I stay like this. The water has gone from too hot to lukewarm bordering on cool when I hear the knob turn.

"Ah, I'm still in—" The door swoops open. My husband stands fully dressed for dinner filling my bathroom door with a frown marring his savagely beautiful face. His eyes are glacial as they sweep over the bathroom coming to rest on me as I struggle to sit up in the bath. I cover the pins, edging them over until they fall in the water.

He makes a point at look at his Grand Seiko watch before his eyes flick to me in displeasure. "Dinner began fifteen minutes ago."

I start, looking around. I hadn't realized I lost so much time. "I-I'm sorry."

"If this is your idea of defying me —"

"No." I raise my hand cutting him off. "I'm not. The time just got away from me." Dragging my eyes away from his hard stare, I get my soap and began lathering my loofa. "I'll be just a few minutes." I smooth my arms in hurried, circular strokes. I bite lip, my fingers trembling a little.

I remind myself he's never hurt me. No matter his words he's never struck me in anger. His anger is palpable. It's strangling me.

I hear a swish. I look over my shoulder. He's taking off his coat. My hands drop to my sides as I watch him lie the jacket across the towel warmer. His eyes never leave me. I'm glad I'm sitting because I know I'd lose the power to stand under his glacial stare. It's not hate. No. It's totally emotionless. Nothing. There's no light there. No passion. No hate. No concern. My heart hollows out. Scraped raw by a rusted spoon.

Meticulously he rolls up his sleeves. His shoes make sharp taps on the marble as he comes over kneeling before me, opening his hand for the net sponge. I give it to him turning away. There is a pause. Then gentle swipes and swirls along my back.

"Turn around, Hana."

Why is he using that name? I don't deserve it anymore. I dare not trust him calling me that. He wants me to long for him. He needn't bother I already do. Facing him, I keep my gaze trained on his chest. A mistake I soon realize seeing the way his muscles flex as he bathes me. He is quick and efficient sweeping the sponge over my breasts and tummy then down beneath the water over my thighs and legs. I whisper a small prayer of thanks he doesn't ask me to stand. I close my eyes when he releases the material using his fingers to clean the most intimate part of me.

Of their own volition my eyes open at the last moment and meet his. My breath catches at the emotion there. It's so brief I almost think I'm imagining it. It may have been a millisecond but for a moment just as he moves his hand, he looks gutted. Our souls clash. It's a moment. Just a moment. In that pin drop of time, I feel the slightest bit of hope. He looks away. Stands and turns away from me going to dry his arms.

"I thought you needed assistance since you seem unable to get it together enough to be on time anymore. All that scheming seems to have affected you," he says as an explanation, pulling a warm towel from the rack and snaping it out, holding it up to me. I stand, wobbling a little. His hand shoots out grabbing me under my arm, holding me steady.

Stepping out, I shiver a little, taking the towel and wrapping it around myself. I do my best not to look at him.

"It won't take me long to get ready." I tell him but he blocks my path.

"Don't bother. We were only going to end up here anyway. Just put your robe on." His tone is low. All pretense of patience gone. If it was ever there. He not a man you keep waiting. He not a man you defy. The fact I'm still alive having done is a testament to his love our baby.

I wonder if he is going to watch me put on my lotion as well, after a tense moment where he seems to want to say more, want me to say more, he leaves.

As soon as the door clicks behind him, I rush over to the bathtub and fish out the pins adding them to the other four the Aussie chick gave me when I asked earlier. They'd been fitting me for another dress Akchiro wanted me to wear that needed alterations for dinner tonight. She didn't ask what I needed them for, and I didn't say.

I hide them in the toilet paper roll tucking them close to the cardboard cylinder.

Taking my hair down, I'm happy it falls into long waves over my shoulders and down my back reaching my bottom. He's always loved my hair. He may be in command, but I have little ways to torture him too. I just have to remind myself he may have power over me, but I am not without my own weapons. It's the little temptations that eventually bring you down.

I put a light pink gloss on my lips. I look fresh and pretty. Just what he loves best.

"You have power, Flower," I whisper, giving my reflection a wink before I meet my husband for dinner.

The room is lit by candlelight. A table has been set similar as it was the other night on deck. Dinner is our favorite, sushi. Kobe strips, caviar, squid, along sauces wraps, salad and rice. They are arrayed in the simplest fashion; little white dishes, a bowl for the rice and salad to share.

"Gomen nasai," Apologizing again for my tardiness, folding my hands in my lap, I wait for his nod to begin serving him.

"It is fortunate you were on time earlier. Asa would have been heartbroken to have missed you." It's an admonishment and a threat. If I keep him waiting again, I forfeit seeing Asa.

"It was a mistake. I know how important your time is. I was soaking and forgot the time. It won't happen again." Beneath the table I dig my nails into the flesh of my knee trying to keep myself from breaking apart. Pleading will only make him angrier. He won't tolerate excuses.

The mask of blanked out emotion is back. It's like he can see through me. I have nothing to hide. Trying to beat him at the cool maliciousness he has cultivated over the years is folly. He is a man who sits across from world leaders and crime bosses alike. He's a master of the game of strategy and will. No this is not where I beat him. Going head to head with him, I will always lose. I see that now. Fighting him so openly will always have me being the one who loses.

His kidnaping me and my subsequent illness had me scrambling. After the episode this morning, I realize I need to take my power back. Being reactive is not the way to deal with a man as brilliant as my husband. He'll also sniff out any deception and punish it cruelly.

No, I have to be me— at least the me that captivated him in the beginning. My power lies in the quietness of my strength. The girl he met in the limo. The happy effervescent girl who ran her own company and his household. I won't cower. No more of that. I will soften him little by little. Soon moments like the one in the bath will become more frequent, bigger and stronger until he crumbles just like a glacier that's drifted too far from the South Pole.

"Shall I begin?" I ask, looking him squarely in the eye. Letting him know I got his threat. He can keep harping on it if he wishes, but I've moved on. I see the muscle ticking in his jaw, but he gives me a brief nod.

"Hai."

I spoon rice into a small bowl and sit it before him before selecting the best of the best morsels of fish and placing the bite size portions in a neat row on an oblong dish. Following that, I set several dishes before him of his favorite along with some edamame.

After I serve him. I take a small plate and do the same though my portions are nowhere the size of his.

I'm pouring his tea when he says coldly, "You will eat more food, Flower."

I finish pouring and hand him his tea. He makes no move to get it. Okay, we both know that is the height of rudeness in Japanese society. I try not to let it bother me. I mean I really try. I can't help the way my nose stings. I blink rapidly, swallowing back the ache in my throat.

It takes all my concentration to sit his cup and saucer down before him with the barest rattle. I sniff looking down at my plate.

"I am. After being sick it's taking my appetite a while to come back." Not to mention the stress he's put me under, but I don't say that. Surely, he knows.

I take my sushi dipping it in my preferred soy sauce and miso trying to eat. The way he watches me makes it hard to swallow. I follow with the rice and salad. It's so hard to enjoy food under such intense scrutiny. I feel like I am taking a test.

"Your breakfast and lunch are barely touched every morning. I've been informed you order no snacks, only water." He tells me after he's eaten. I move to replenish his dishes.

"You will tell me why this is."

I swallow around the slick sea urchin. One would think it would be easy being one of my favorites, but I barely get it down. Misery sinks its claws into me.

"Worry," I shrug, looking into his hard, unyielding gaze. "I'm worried about all this, Asa, you, me."

At least two minutes pass as he holds my gaze his face a mask of rage. I can tell he wants to rail at me. Tell me I caused this. Totally absolving himself of any blame. Ignoring the fact, he held a young woman prisoner for years in order to keep her brothers under his heel. Yes. Let's forget that sick shit. I don't drop my gaze from his. I can take it. I'm done cowering.

"You need to gain your weight back," he says in a hard, awful voice.

I tip my chin thinking of the painfully thin Aussie vying for his attention and all the women he dated before and after me when I went back to America. None of them were cuvry, none of them hoes were below five foot seven.

"Before me, you only dated super thin, tall women. When I went back home and miscarried you were dating super-ultra-thin socialites." I allow no heat as I gently remind him how he went back to his playboy ways after I was forced to leave because my brother, FADE almost died.

He tossed his napkin on his plate. "I didn't marry any of those super-ultra-thin or tall women, Hana. I married you. I had a son with you— " He cuts himself off. His gaze slides to the side and down. "I wanted more children with you." There it was again just like in the bathroom. He's having a hard time as well. Good. We'll wallow in despair together.

Just then his phone buzzes out of nowhere. He never allows calls during family time. But we're not exactly a family or a couple anymore, are we?

He takes the phone out of his pocket not even bothering to answer it handing it to me. "It's your mother."

"Mommy?" I can't hide the wonder and sadness in my tone. As I get up from the table and move to the seating the area of the suite. I barely notice Akchiro getting up and moving towards the window by the bed.

"Yes, Sugar-drop it's me. How're you doing, baby?" My eyes sting hearing the concern in her voice.

"Good, mommy, so good." What else can I say, I've been kidnapped and being bred by my husband to produce another two heirs for his empire before he discards me? I'm pretty sure that won't go over too well.

"Umhmm, so y'all are working things out?" She asks diving right into the problem. My mom has never minced words, so I'm not surprised. "That's why he said he wanted to take you cruising. So y'all wouldn't have any distractions. Akchiro was real tore up when he came here, Flower. But if he's been unfaithful, I don't expect you to forgive him."

"No mom, he didn't cheat on me. It was other stuff we haven't fully talked about in our marriage that just blew-up in our faces." I give her the bare bones of the situation.

"So, instead of facing him you ran and took his baby? Now, I already know how ruthless he is. You know the man you married. This man you stood in front of your family and fought for. You know what he's capable of, Flower. I know he had to do something terrible for you to leave like you did. Still, you took his child and left him near dead from what I hear from your brothers. You're lucky you didn't kill him," she admonishes but there is no heat to her words.

"I know I was wrong, mom. I just couldn't see another way." I look over my shoulder. He's at the window, looking at the night sky shining beyond where it meets the sea. "He wouldn't listen," I whisper, so he doesn't hear that part. "He didn't care how I felt about it."

"Humph, sounds just like him," she says, then sighs. "Are you going to stay there and work it out?"

"Yes," It's not like I have a choice. I'll never see my Asa again. I could be pregnant now for all I know.

"Then began by acknowledging what you could have done better. This does not absolve him of what he did but at least you're standing in the light." I want to scream hearing her words. Ain't no way. Nope. Nopity. Nope. Nope

"Mommy," I drag it out like I'm a whiny child. She's supposed to be on my side.

"No ma'am, I love you but I'm going to tell you what God loves —the truth. You were wrong for what you did. Your daddy—chile, he would've hunted me down too and dragged my tail back here too if I pulled some mess like that. Plus, we taught you to face your problems, and we didn't raise no cowards. Now you take care of your part and have some faith in your husband to do his. Remember, he's come cross the world twice for you now. He's a hard man but his anger ain't no match for the love I saw burning him up when he came here. You broke his heart too." She almost made me feel like there was hope. Almost.

"Yes, ma'am. How is everyone?" I listen as the regales me on the antics of my little nephew, Justice, and the projects my brothers are doing. "You know Lyric is heading out on a world tour soon? She'll be in Japan. Maybe you can go see her." She tells me proudly talking about my brother's top artist and one of the biggest pop stars in the world.

"I'd love that." I tell her, not bothering to say that by the time Lyric makes her way to Japan I will probably be big with a baby I didn't know I wanted right now and probably under constant guard by my sadist of a husband.

We talk several more minutes saying soft goodbyes before I hang up the phone.

I stand, twisting the phone in my hand. He's still at the window. Lost in thought or having listened to the whole exchange I don't know. I'm sure it's the later.

The table was removed by the staff during my conversation with Mommy. The side chairs moved back to their original position. I walk around them making my way to the tall, wiry form of my husband. He stands like a dragon guarding his lair, only I am the only adversary present. I see him tracking my movement as I approach his body tightens as if to strike.

His back is pulled taunt against his dinner jacket. His right arm is reaching above him as he leans in looking out into the night then back at me. There is a tiny space on his left where there is a gap of space. I walk up and wedge myself just there turning into his body to face him.

He cants his head down to look at me. His eyes are pools of emotion — too many to name.

"Arigatō," I slip his phone back into his dinner coat's pocket. His eyes flare at my boldness, but he says nothing. His jaw ticks and hardens impossibly more.

After a moment and before I lose my nerve, I say what I should have said days ago.

"I'm sorry for leaving like I did and taking Asa. I should have talked to you and kept talking to you until you understood how devasted I was about everything that happened. I dishonored you, me, our marriage, and our family by what I did. I don't expect your forgiveness, but I am sorry." Eyes never leaving his, I take several steps back, assuming the dogeza position; kneeling, arms extended, face touching the ground. I repeat all I have said in formal Japanese touching my face to the ground three times.

This position of abject forgiveness is so rare and such an act of the humblest submission most people turn away rather than witness it.

Akchiro is no different. No matter how mad he is. No matter the level of his hatred for what I put him through, to witness his wife take such a position deeply aggrieves him.

"Flower, you will stop debasing yourself at once." His voice is cuttingly sharp. I move to stand, but he is already dragging me up by my elbows to my feet.

Color rides high on his cheekbones. He is livid.

"I don't know what the fuck you're playing at—" Teeth clenched in seething rage, he grabs me so high beneath my underarms, I rise to the tip of my toes.

"I meant it, Akchiro—" My words are emphatic.

"You are not to use my fucking name." He cuts me off with a rough shake, his face jutting forward almost hitting mine.

"I mean it — husband." Tipping my chin up I meet his gaze. Mine unwavering. "I was wrong. I knew it when I did it. You don't have to forgive me. I know you won't." I swallow past the tightness in my throat. "I know it. Still, I mean it."

I see it then. The uncertainty— him wavering. He looks down and to the side inhaling deep. He exhales then looks back at me, his face a mask of cruelty again.

"You're sorry?" The corner of his mouth quirks in a boyishness that doesn't reach the glacial recesses of his eyes.

"Yes." Not letting him intimidate me I meet him head on, ignoring the hard clasps of his hands on my upper arms. I don't think he realizes how hard and how close he's holding me. I can feel every movement of his chest as he breathes. I'm sure my arms will bear witness to his strength tomorrow.

He lets me go so quickly, I'd fallen back if not for his hand tangling into the belt of my robe. He tugs it free then pushes it off my shoulders allowing it to pool at my feet. "Show me just how sorry you are, Flower."

Unbothered, I step out of the puddle of buttery soft fabric. Reaching out, I unbutton the three onyx buttons of his dinner jacket. I walk behind him, reaching high on my tiptoes pressing my breast into his back, slipping my fingers into the lapels, slowly dragging the fitted material off his shoulders. I push his shoulder making him turn away from the window and face me.

Stepping back, I take the jacket and bend, making sure he has a full view of my bottom as I pick up my robe. Depositing them on a nearby chaise, I turn back to him.

He is as cold and unmoving as an ice sculpture, but it doesn't unnerve me. If he didn't want this, he'd leave. Not to mention his dick print is prominent and long pressing against the fabric of his pants.

Reaching for his collar, I make quick work of the buttons there, thankful he's forgone a tie tonight. I slip the buttons free, take one arm at a time removing his cufflinks then sliding the shirt off. Pulling his t-shirt free of his pants, I bite my lip pulling it up as high as I can. There is a glint in his eye as he bends to accommodate my shorter height. They join the other clothes.

As much as I want to start kissing his chest I don't give into the temptation, no. I run my hands over the hard expanse of his chest and chiseled abs. He's thinner and harder than before. He's always taken care of his body, now his angles are unyielding, sharper. He's lost weight too. Impossibly, he looks better, every bit of softness honed away to mete out pleasure or pain as he sees fit.

My pussy tightens at the thought of how I get to enjoy him on my terms.

Akchiro's still my husband. He will always be mine. My intention is to show him that. To remind him, he belongs to me just as much as I belong to him.

The buckle is next. I unlatch it pulling the belt free. He steps free of his pants. His boxers already wet with precum. I rub the spot a little before pulling them free and sliding them down his long sinewy legs. Socks follow joining the now precarious pile on the chaise.

He stands before me naked, beautiful, dick jutting boldly forward, his eyes still in that cruel cast. Putting my hand in his, I swallow when he clasps it in return. I look up dragging my gaze up the hard expanse of his torso until I'm reaching his eyes, there's that almost vulnerable look again before he shutters it.

Soon.

I tug him behind me the short distance to the bed. I crawl to the center plumping the pillows so he can sit against the headboard.

He climbs in. His six-foot-two form dwarfing the smooth counterpane. He looks like a pasha waiting to be pleasured. He has one leg slightly bent and the other straight. His dick standing high and hard the tip pearled in delicious invitation. His hands rest at his sides. I crawl over to him. Eyes dropped low, he looks at me beneath hooded lids. His gaze is hot. He's holding himself back. But the muscle ticking in his jaw tells me he's barely leashing the passion and emotions roaring through him.

I move to cover his thighs, angling over him. I sit on him just a shade lower than where his hard, heavy dick rises from the dense thatch of black hair at the base.

"May I kiss you?" I ask my eyes on his lips. I watch them firm in a line that could be displeasure, but I don't let it deter me. He gives me a short nod.

Leaning in, I lick his bottom lip pulling it into my mouth, sucking it, savoring the taste and texture of what's mine. I move to the top and do the same before delving deeper. I take my time loving on every bit of him. He tastes like green tea and man. His lips are firm and receptive beneath mine. I suck his tongue into my mouth. Consumed by him. I suck it deep like I'll do his dick if he lets me. His dick flexes, he groans as I mimic that particular pleasure. He doesn't touch me. But I feel his hands fists the sheets at his sides beside my knees.

I pull away, looking into the dark, onyx pools of his gaze. I move to his hard jaw placing kisses all along the hard chiseled surface. I kiss every part of his face in apology. He closes his eyes on a sigh when I kiss both his lids, the bridge of his nose. I move to the other side of his face, finally his forehead. I suck his chin and feel his dick kick hard before wrapping my arms around his neck sinking into him devouring his mouth.

He doesn't hesitate or grip the sheets. He grips me. He pulls me tightly to him, crushing my breasts against his chest. He inhales me. Our tongues, tangle, suck. We moan in unison like we've made it back home. There is no ownership, no dominance, just us. the sensuous glide of our tongues, the delicate of pleasure neither of us can deny.

Hands smooth up and down my back. I force myself not to ruin it by sobbing into his mouth as he angles his over mine sucking my tongue then making me take his over and over. Not like my dom, but like the man who mastered my body and taught me how to love. There is a vulnerability in his touch. My hands shake moving from his neck to his face holding him just so, I want to love on him more. Give him my sorry in every kiss and caress.

He grips my bottom. I gasp. He fingers dip lower finding me wet. I'm dripping making a mess of his lap. I pull away looking at the swirl of emotion in his eyes.

Moving down his body, I kiss this the strong cords of his neck sucking his flesh into my mouth marking him as mine. I graze his nipples with my nails scraping them, making red marks, then flicking them with my tongue.

"Fuuuuck" he growls, holding my head on his left nipple as I bite and suck it over and over before moving to the right. I can feel his dick bobbing and throbbing against me. Streaks of his precum cover my tummy.

I move lower, giving him long licks and sucks, making his abs flex. His stomach sucks in when I swirl my tongue in his navel.

Lower, I inhale the heavy masculine scent of him. My pussy is so slippery I squeeze my thighs tight as I settle between his legs. Precum seeps from the tip, I cover him hearing him groan feeling his big heavy hand in my hair. He arches into my mouth. He's fucks my mouth with abandon. He's already close. I let him have my throat. I gag on it feeling him jump, loving it. I feel him flex and pull out with a pop. Turn about is fair play but I don't look at him in challenge like he did me, I don't demand that he beg me. I simply move lower kissing, licking the sides of his inner thighs, tangling my fingers in his hair, brushing it with light strokes until I move lower. He opens his legs wider. I take his sac in my mouth. I suck and roll, dancing his nuts on my tongue. I lick lower and he shouts gripping the base of his dick to keep from coming. I smile to myself going back for more.

"Hana," he grits out in warning. I move back to his dick and give him sloppy, messy head making his toes curl and as he fucks into my mouth before releasing him with a pop.

His face is hard when I look at him. "You have to come inside me if we are going to have another baby," I say softly letting him know I am willing to give him what he wants so badly.

The transformation is immediate. Gone is the near feral look of rage from having his passion thwarted to a look of almost hesitant anticipation.

I move back to his lap straddling him. He helps me line up as I bring my legs forward so my feet rest forward instead of back. Ever so slowly, I descend bracing my hands on his shoulders.

"Ahh—"

"Fuck, Hana." We say at the same time as I take my husband inch by delicious inch struggling to take his massive length. His dick is so big, he stretches me to the brim. He fucked me so hard yesterday and this morning, I'm still sore but my essence eases the way helping me. Still, I gasp.

"Slow down, baby. Don't hurt yourself," he murmurs looking at where our bodies meet. I know he's not aware he's even used the endearment. Little by little, I keep going until he's filled me to the hilt.

"So good," I whisper, kissing his throat feeling his dick flex inside me.

I pull back and he kisses me in a long assault. His kiss is a seduction taking me, making me want things, regret things, hope for things.

When his lips finally release mine, I'm left with such an intense feeling of longing, I can't stop the tears that escape the corners of my eyes. He watches the trails they make. My heart stops when he leans in and licks them. Pressing his head against mine he grits with such urgency my body clenches. "You're so fucking pretty when you cry."

He nips my lower lip. I feel the sting before his sucks it into his mouth.

"Show me," he urges. "Show me, how sorry you are. Make me forget."

Hard hands grip my hips as I ride him, sliding my pussy up and down his shaft. I glide all the way back then up until I meet the coarse crush of hair. It brushes my clit like a rough kiss. I seek it with each pass until my rhythm is a perfect mix of a smooth slide and hard finish just like he likes. I fuck him. I fuck the best I'm sorry I can, snapping my hips hard at the end making him swear and grunt.

He says filthy thing in Japanese, "Fuck me, Hannah. Yes, swerve that hot little pussy on me." I do as he says. I give him everything he demands.

Finally, he fucks me back, surging inside to meet me with hard punishing thrusts, hitting my spot with vicious precision. He doesn't have to say anything, I know he feels more that he can express. One look at the depth of emotion and I'm keening my release, screaming "Akchiro, yes." Over and over as hot gushing come streams from me. He keeps going after I fall limp onto him thrusting, his seed bursting inside me in hot, heady jets.

Exhausted, I have no strength to move. He doesn't disengage. He holds me even after his dick softens, after our breathing has returned to normal. He holds me and I hold him back scared to move, scared to break the magical bond we somehow manage to forge tonight.

I must have nodded off. No fallen asleep. Because when I awake, I can see dawn breaking over the horizon. I'm warm because the cover has been pulled and tucked around me. Despite the warmth, I sit up to see I am utterly alone. He's gone. I know he didn't stay the night. He would have still been in bed, probably just waking. He probably waited until I fell asleep.

I press my hand to my mouth to cover my sob. I bite down hard on the side of my palm at the pain cutting through me. With wild eyes I look around the room it looks as if he was never here. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I made love to a phantom.

I said I was sorry. I showed him in every way. He never apologized for his part or even acknowledge my words. The cold reality settles on me.

I gather the tatters of my pride and hope heading to the bathroom. I can't fall apart. I can't.