Chapter 188: Chapter 188

The scooter coasted to a gentle stop outside a towering, high-end apartment complex nestled discreetly in one of Tokyo’s quieter upscale districts.

Haruki climbed down first, his motions calm, controlled.

Kyouko, still flushed and warm, remained seated for a moment, watching him.

The arousal from the drink still pulsed gently through her.

Soft, rhythmic waves that made her chest tighten and her breath catch now and then.

He reached up, took her hand without a word, and helped her down.

She looked at the building, then at him.

"Haruki?" she asked softly, her brows lifting just slightly.

"Where is this place?"

Haruki just smiled faintly and laced his fingers with hers.

Still silent, he led her by the hand toward the glass entrance.

The guard inside, in a clean navy uniform, noticed them immediately and stood up straight.

"Ah, good evening, Mister Haruki."

Haruki nodded politely. "Good evening."

The guard’s eyes flicked briefly toward Kyouko, whose face was partially hidden by the soft shadows of the lobby lights.

"Your wife?" the guard asked, smiling kindly.

Haruki didn’t pause. Didn’t hesitate.

He looked at her with complete calm. "We just got back from an event."

The guard nodded. "Ah—I see. I’ll let you enjoy your evening, then. Have a good night, Mister Haruki."

Haruki smiled again. "Thank you."

The elevator opened with a soft chime.

He guided Kyouko inside, still holding her hand.

She stayed close to him, heart pounding—not from fear, but from the silence... the weight of the moment.

He pressed the button for the top floor.

The doors slid closed.

And they began to rise.

Only the soft hum of the lift surrounded them.

Kyouko turned her face slightly toward him.

"...You never told me you had a place ."

Haruki looked at her, his voice low, steady.

"Because I was saving it... for us."

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime.

The hallway on the top floor was silent, warmly lit, the carpet absorbing their footsteps.

Haruki walked ahead, still holding her hand—firm but gentle.

They stopped at the door at the very end.

He reached for the keypad.

Kyouko’s eyes widened.

The numbers he pressed—her birthday.

She looked up at him, but before she could ask anything, he pushed the door open and guided her inside.

The apartment was quiet.

Spacious. Minimal. Beautifully clean.

Soft city lights spilled in through the large windows. The Tokyo skyline stretched far below.

The door clicked shut.

Kyouko’s body gave in.

The arousal that had been simmering through her veins for the past hour surged forward like a wave.

Her fingers trembled.

The heat in her core pulsed harder, deeper. Her body was soaked. Needing. Desperate.

Her chest rose and fell—fast.

"Haruki..." she whispered.

Gently, but with urgency.

He stumbled back onto the couch behind him.

His hands caught the edge, just in time.

Beautiful. Flushed. Eyes glistening.

Her hands moved to her body.

To the zipper behind her back.

She began to slide it down.

The city outside glittered in silence.

But inside the apartment—

Inside the world that belonged only to Haruki and Kyouko—

There was nothing but sound.

The sharp rhythm of skin against skin.

The wet, slick melody of deep connection.

The soft, rising cries muffled against a chest... or a shoulder.

Haruki moved with no restraint.

Each thrust hard, deep, and desperate, his body driven beyond reason.

Something inside him had snapped the moment he tasted her scent... her warmth... her surrender.

She clung to him, her arms around his shoulders, legs wrapped tight around his waist.

Her nails scraped softly down his back, her body arching to meet him again and again.

She couldn’t stop trembling.

Couldn’t stop gasping.

Her breath caught with every sharp movement that pushed deeper, harder.

It wasn’t just desire.

Her skin was flushed all the way to her chest.

Her voice shook. Her body jolted with every drive of his hips.

Even the pillow beneath her head was already damp—her hair clinging to her neck, her voice whispering his name again and again like a fevered prayer.

It feels too good... too full... too hot...

And Haruki, pressing his forehead against hers, gritted his teeth.

The tight pull in his core.

The uncontrollable need to move faster.

Even as Kyouko’s body began to shake beneath him, even as her fingers clawed gently at his back, her thighs pressing tight around his hips.

His length slid in and out, slow at first, then deep and steady—

so full she could barely breathe,

so thick she could feel every ridge,

Her moans, at first soft, turned sharp and urgent.

not loud, but desperate, breathy.

A sound only he had ever pulled from her.

Her body arched sharply, her back lifting off the couch cushions.

The muscles in her stomach tightened.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Her core clenched around him,tight. Rhythmic. Pulsing.

Every few seconds, another wave.

Another ripple of pleasure that shook through her from the inside out.

She whimpered as her head tilted back, the tension in her neck visible, her face bathed in a soft flush.

The way she gripped him from within.

The way her walls fluttered, helpless to stop.

The way her moans grew breathier, her legs trembling as they tried to hold him deeper.

It was everything to him.

Her face. Her body. Her climax.

His breath hitched as he watched her break apart—completely lost in him.

Still, he moved inside her.

Slow. Deep. Sliding in and out.

Enjoying every ripple. Every aftershock.

He loved how her lips trembled.

How her body jolted every time he pushed back in.

How her arms, though weak, never stopped holding onto him.

This is what only I can see.

Even after her body collapsed into trembles...

Even after her breath slowed and her limbs felt weightless...

Haruki stayed inside her—moving.

His thrusts now slower.

Each motion drew another soft gasp from her lips,

another flutter from her still-sensitive core.

Kyouko couldn’t speak.

Her eyes were half-lidded, body slick with sweat. Her hands gripped his back gently, fingers trembling, nails leaving light crescents on his skin.

I don’t have any protection...

No pill... nothing...

But the thought didn’t bloom into fear.

I don’t care anymore...

The heat between her legs pulsed again.

The friction of his length dragging against her still-sensitive inner walls made her toes curl.

The feeling of him—deep, thick, hot inside her, moving without pause—was everything.

She didn’t even care about the risk.

She didn’t care that Satoshi still held her name.

She didn’t care if tomorrow came with consequence.

Because this moment—the way Haruki held her, the way his body felt stretching hers, sliding through her tight, soaked heat.

The truest, most forbidden kind.

And as he moved inside her.

Again and again, slow but firm, their skin meeting with soft, wet rhythm—

She tilted her head, kissed his ear, and whispered, breathless: