Chapter Text
- - - F O R B I D D E N F R U I T - - -
C H A P T E R 1
The room was quiet, the light of an oil lamp flickered under the stars of the night sky as curtains swayed gently in the wind. Stars--they sparkled with unparalleled beauty, casting luminous glows against a black sky with the occasional dart across the moon when one felt as though it was time was at an end. An insignificant speck against the giant world that was impossible to quantify or understand fully. And yet as Naoya Zenin gazed up at the celestial sea from the open window of his private quarters, he couldn't focus on the beauty that danced in the chocolate of his eyes, only the fire that ran through his veins like lightening. His robes lay on the floor discarded, bare chest rising and falling rapidly as his heart stammered with emotions that he had never felt before, thighs practically quivering from tension. Anger surged through him like a rolling storm. Anger mixed with something else that he had never felt quite this intense before--arousal.
His body was hot, blood lust rushing through him from the tips of his fingers to the tops of his ears, blooming red as though he had caught a fever. He groaned with more frustration at his hardened cock straining against his stomach, his slit pulsing and dribbling with spend in an effort to get ready for the unimaginable. Naoya snarled at his own body before raising a hand and slapping himself across his own cheek, willing the thoughts--the emotions of you to dissipate completely before he lost his fucking mind. A failed attempt overall and now not only does his cock hurt but so does his cheek.
More irritation begins to rise in him.
"Damn it!" He shouted, not caring who heard him in the middle of the night at an early three am. He was in pain, a pain that was unfamiliar to him mentally and it was driving him utterly insane. How could this have possibly happened? He was Naoya Zenin, the Naoya Zenin. There was no time for him to be acting this way as though he was some common schoolboy who was going through puberty. It's not as though he hasn't got his dick wet before to quell a simmering fire in his stomach. He fucked plenty of women; whores that did well to treat him as though he should be treated and sluts that impaled themselves on his cock and rode him until they passed out before he flipped them a coin and went on his merry way. It's not like he was a virgin, so what the hell is happening to him now?
He paused to take a deep breath with hands on sharp hips, focusing on something...anything but you. Anything but the whole scenario that he put himself into by letting impatience and curiosity bite him in the ass. His cock twitched once more, thrumming with need for relief, for even the slightest touch of friction to help the ache that continued to grow the longer the night went on. Naoya ground his teeth together and stared once more out the window to the stars with reddened cheeks; he recalled the day you came to him so clearly, he should have ended it right then and there instead of playing with you in a game of cat and mouse. Four fucking years of his stupid little games--and you were unknowingly winning.
He played too hard and now he's suffering the consequences.
You were frustrating beyond the boundaries of what should be possible. You irked at Naoya in the worst way, scratching in his brain like a parasite digger deeper and deeper the longer you lingered. But the problem was not that you were annoying or some idiot that couldn't get a grasp on how a womans life in the Zenin Estate should go. Not even close.
The problem lies in that you were perfect in every sense of the word. Your looks were always kept pristine; your duties to him never faltered and the best thing of all...you never once questioned anything. It was as though you were molded to serve him, like your brain had been opened up and his entire life had been programmed into it, neuron by shooting neuron. Factory made just for him and him alone. And yet as of a few hours ago you had become insufferable--and still the fault was not yours but his. So what the hell changed!
You were not a new thing in Naoya's life. Not a shiny new toy for him to torment or a new food to criticize and critique. In fact you had been with him for several years now, like a shadow attached to him at the hip. Always there yet never in the way. He let loose an airy sigh as reality finally came to grips with him and his current problem. There was no other choice at this point. He went to his door, turned the lock once more for good measure and finally settled down onto his bed, his back revealing at the cool sheets; a stark contrast to the fire that was blazing inside of him. His cocoa eyes stared at the ceiling, counting the blemishes of the old Zenin mansion in a final attempt of calm until a flash of earlier stirred him on. He felt his heart stammer on his chest.
Then slowly he began.
"Fuck," he whispered out to himself, hand gripping tentatively at a thick base before pulling upward, the friction so good that he knew in his heart he wouldn't last long. Damn him for what he did! He pushed his hair back from his forehead with his free hand while his other started a leisurely rhythm of up and down. Sometimes a soft squeeze, sometimes harder and more powerful tugs to keep things interesting. His eyes closed as his head rolled back against the pillow, hips already stuttering against his own hand as thoughts of your naked form flickered again in his mind like a reel only he could hit play and pause on.
When his father presented you to him as a gift, Naoya scoffed and rolled his eyes, walking away with a wave of his hand and a half hearted 'whatever' to his father before he heard it. Like an echo of his own footsteps ringing in his ears, he glanced back to see you following behind like a lost pup. And what a first impression you made.
Body bowed; three steps behind him; silent as the grave and head lower than his own with eyes downcast to the floor. Everything he's always said a good woman should be. But you were not welcomed to him, he didn't want you. You would only be a pest, probably incapable of making a good cup of tea. "And what the hell do you think you're doing?" He questioned, narrowing his eyes and waiting for the independence that every woman longs for to spring forth like a viper ready to strike. When you responded after waiting to make sure he was done speaking, his body straightened; curiosity now brimming like a cup about to overflow. He will never forget the way you sounded that day. The way your voice spoke softly to him, like a delicate flower blowing in the wind-- soft and fragile and yet somehow full of confidence.
"Whatever you wish of me, Master Naoya. I have been gifted to you by your father Naobito, your will is my duty."
Master Naoya?
The hallway was eerily silent as he gauged you, pursing his lips before a sadistic grin stretched over his face and he turned fully to stand in front of you, his feet no doubt in your line of downcast vision now. "Whatever I want, huh? And what if I want something you can't give? What then?" Naoya bent down, his face turning to look at yours and seeing that your emotions were still in check--he's slightly impressed. Still you don't look at him, and somehow it seems your bow has become deeper, your head still lower than his. Whoever taught you did a damned good job in his eyes. Of course, Naoya would never give recognition or praise, it might stir a sense of self confidence and a yearning to branch out and experiment. Such things a woman should never do without a man's consent and Naoya would never give such permissions.
He continued to mock and tease at you, "Will you allow yourself to be punished for failing to provide the impossible? Would you throw yourself at my feet and beg for mercy as I beat you within an inch of your life?"
Surely this would raise alarms from you. But even as Naoya clearly tested your resolve, you kept patient and calm. Head bowed, eyes down, and a response that almost seemed clinical in nature, "If I fail what you ask, it's on me. Punish me how you see fit, Master Naoya. I am yours to serve."
Had Naoya been a smarter man, or a less inquiring man, he would have stomped your skull into the wooden floor of the hallway that very moment. Would have splattered your brains and watched as life's glow left your eyes and your body twitch in a feeble attempt to save itself. Instead, he's thrusting in both of his hands now, his feet planted firm on his bed as pressure builds in his abdomen like a tsunami ready to destroy. His breaths come out in hushed stutters while his thoughts think back again to what put him here in the first place.
Fucking impatience.
You were officially off duty for the night, gone down the hall to your own quarters that had been provided once Naoya realized that you weren't completely inept. They were close to his own room in case he needed something and that night he did in fact require something more from you. Now though, he can't even remember what it was that was so important. The only thing he recalls is what happened next.
He padded down the hallway and threw open the door to your room as though privacy was a privilege and not a luxury, for he is Naoya Zenin and knocking for his personal attendant is beneath him. He shouldn't be required to knock, though in the moment it would have behooved him greatly to do so. His feet were planted firmly in their place, as though glue had trapped him in that very spot while a lump formed in his throat.
He stands in the doorway with a hand on the knob, eyes looking at the sight in front of him and instinctively wandering to places that he had no control over. You stood frozen, your eyes meeting his for the first time in a small moment of terror as your clothes lay at your feet, thin night apparel shaky in your hands.
Fuck--you were something out of a story book.
Naoya bit at his bottom lip as his hands worked himself harder--faster--more urgent than he had ever done in his life. Even at his own teen years when the blood wouldn't cease, he can't recall a time where he was this pent up. In a moment of need he changed his position, feeling the primal urge to rut against something, and went to his knees while grabbing his pillow. "A-Ah--fuck!" His skin was slick with sweat now, his teeth grinding together as hips swung with a mind of their own into his hand while the other held the pillow steady, mimicking what it would be like if it were you under him instead of a damned case of cotton and silk.
He couldn't stop thinking of how you looked. Your skin was creamy with hardly a freckle or blemish, smooth and pulled taunt in all the right places against lean muscle and delicate spots of pliable fat. Long legs gave way to a plump ass, something that looked as though it would fit perfect in his hands. Cheeks soft and supple--able to be gripped and smacked until they went red with welts and scratches, maybe even teeth marks that would stand out like ravines flowing through a vast mountainous canyon. Your stomach was flat; belly button elongated and pointed up to two pert tits with dusty nipples that pebbled under his intense gaze. Naoya knew that they would be heavy in hands, a perfect fit against his palms as he licked across them just to watch you squirm with want before biting down and drawing the bud up in a painful sort of manner.
But you would like it. You would throw your head back and rake those perfectly trimmed nails over his scalp while you squeezed your legs around his waist. Your hips would meet his as he drove into you before slapping a hand over your mouth to keep the pitiful mewls from escaping. Or perhaps he would let you moan freely, waiting for the moment you breathed out his name in bliss. The name that had a different meaning to him now than it had before.
Master Naoya.
"Oh--shit--oh shit." Naoya was so close now that the pleasure was mixing with pain. His cock was so hard that it felt as though he was pumping smooth river stone instead of a connection of himself. But it felt so good, so good that it made him want to scream. But the thing that would tip him over the edge would be the way you looked at him--actually for the maybe the first time--actually looked at him.
You face was unexpectedly round, cheeks slightly narrow and eyes soft and doe like. They were blooming red at the awkward situation, the blood traveling down your neck before disappearing into your shoulders behind a long curtain of hair that he had never seen out of its working style before. Your nose was small, cute like a button and your lips--your lips were a work of art sent down from heaven itself. Pink, plump, parted with an audible gasp when he threw the door open and then openly gazed at you without knowing what the hell he was thinking. Your tongue came to lick at them as they went dry with shock and embarrassment. Naoya knew they would swell easily, turn a pretty red and go puffy from just a few pump of his cock into your mouth. And you would respond how you always do once he had spilled his seed down your awaiting throat.
"As you wish, Master Naoya."
"G-Gah!" The thought of your pretty lips wrapped around him was the final straw of his internal struggles. Naoya ground down into the pillow hard, his hand moving erratically in time with the rotation of his hips until the wave crested against the shore, breaking on the rocks in a show of milky foam and spray. He doubled over with tremors, his cock finally going flaccid as the rest of his spend spurted from him in sticky rivets, hitting him in the chest slightly before running down the planes of his stomach and disappearing back at the apex of his thighs.
His chest still heaved in the aftermath of his release, eyes closing as the high began to dissipate into the air, floating out into the blanket of stars that bared witness to the events that had just occurred in his private quarters. He sat on his haunches, mind racing still with thoughts of you, his cock beginning to rise again after only a few minutes of relapse. He shook his head, anger coming back to him as he swelled and swelled back until he stood rigid once more against his stomach, mixing with the drying spend of his earlier release in a disgusting manner.
"What the fuck have I done to myself?" He gave a soft moan, grabbing his cock once more and starting the process all over again with a now, overly sensitive member. "And how the fuck do I fix it?" Naoya grabbed his pillow from the floor and closed his eyes, preparing himself for what would feel like an eternity of suffering at the hands of his own mistake.