The girl's delicate cheeks were already flushed from being kneaded by a man's rough hand, and now, hearing Yūto Shō's shameless demand on top of it, Egawa Mitsuki couldn't help but shoot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass.
"What, scared?" Yūto Shō tilted his head. "Didn't you say you'd do whatever I wanted?"
His fingers dragged across her face and settled on her full lips, pressing down lightly until that alluring little mouth dipped under the pressure.
A flicker of anger crossed her eyes. "What exactly are you trying to—"
Before she could finish the question, his finger slid between her lips mid-sentence, pressing flat against the soft, wet surface of her tongue. Egawa Mitsuki's whole body jolted. Her first instinct was to spit the intruder out, but the impulse died the moment his other hand closed firmly around her left breast, gripping hard enough that a small, sharp ache made her brows knit.
The realization hit a beat later, and her cheeks went scarlet. She pressed both palms against the offending hand on her chest, trying to peel it away, but a sudden breathless gasp robbed her of strength. The hand squeezed again, and that tingling, melting weakness spread through her limbs like a slow current.
"You—mn—" The curse she'd been building collapsed into a muffled little groan.
Yūto Shō smiled the kind of smile a cat gives a cornered bird. "What about me?"
His hands kept moving, deft and unhurried.
Egawa Mitsuki's breathing came ragged now, her body gone soft and unresponsive against the seat, frozen in place. Yūto Shō kept his palm anchored over her left breast like he'd found the controller input for her entire nervous system—one button, full lockdown.
He smiled with quiet meaning, left hand still holding her there, right finger still buried past her lips. "Don't squirm too much. You'll cut your tongue on my nail."
Then he rubbed the pad of his fingertip slowly across her tongue. Wet, slick, warm. The faint, embarrassing sound of it filled the quiet car.
Egawa Mitsuki's entire body went rigid. The foreign sensation radiating from her chest scrambled every coherent thought, and the slow, deliberate teasing of her tongue made shame burn through her like a fever. Her mouth couldn't close around his finger, and a thin line of saliva slipped from the corner of her lips down her chin.
Yūto Shō watched the scene play out, swallowed thickly, and withdrew his finger without warning. While she was still gasping for breath, he leaned in and caught her wet mouth with his, devouring her like he'd been waiting all night for permission he never planned to ask for.
Egawa Mitsuki froze, her mind blank as freshly fallen snow. This was her first kiss—her actual first kiss—and Yūto Shō had simply reached out and pocketed it in the dim hush of an underground parking garage.
For a moment, grief and humiliation churned together in her chest. Then his lips dragged across hers, sucking gently, and his tongue swept the seam of her teeth in a way she'd only ever read about in shoujo manga panels she pretended she didn't read—and something foreign, something electric, sparked low in her stomach.
In the haze of that shock, her lips parted, and his tongue slipped through like it belonged there, coaxing hers into a slow, tangled dance. Egawa Mitsuki felt a bolt of pure horror when she realized her own tongue had begun responding, curling against his again and again, helpless.
And under the horror, deeper still, a strange, unfamiliar thrill bloomed.
She groaned faintly into his mouth, her body folding bonelessly into his arms. Her cheeks burned crimson, her eyes hazed over, and she sat there in stunned surrender as Yūto Shō took his time with her.
…
Inside, Yūto Shō was on cloud nine. He'd had enough practice to recognize a beginner the moment lips met his—clumsy, panicked, sweet. The proud princess of a girl, the one who normally walked around campus like the protagonist of her own light novel, was currently melting in his arms after losing her first kiss to him. Tongue and all. A small Gendo-tier "just as planned" smirk curled at the edge of his mouth.
He pulled her closer, one hand sliding up her back as he kept kissing her. A drop of something clear slipped between their joined mouths now and then, and the air in the car turned syrup-thick.
Only when his lungs finally protested did Yūto Shō break away, lifting his head slowly. A thin, glistening thread of saliva stretched between their lips before snapping.
…
Egawa Mitsuki stared up at him in a daze, her expression unfocused, her eyes wide with something between dizziness and shyness.
The moment the thread broke, so did the spell. She jerked back to herself, pressed a hand against her chest, and gulped air like she'd surfaced from underwater. Her cheeks flamed. Then she shot him a complicated look, twisted around to dig through her bag, and pulled out a tissue, dabbing carefully at her lips.
Yūto Shō watched the painstaking little ritual and felt a twinge of irritation. "What, kissing me leaves a bad taste?"
She slid him a frosty sidelong glance that all but said, obviously.
Yūto Shō snorted. "I wonder who was tongue-deep in cooperation a minute ago."
Her face flickered through three different shades, somewhere between pale and red. Remembering her own response made her want to crawl into the glove compartment and never come out. Being kissed against her will—French-kissed, no less—and falling into it that hard… that strange, sweet, novel feeling had a kind of low-key Death Note allure to it. The kind of thing that makes you fall further the longer you touch it.
Yūto Shō watched her zone out, then leaned across and plucked her bag straight out of her lap.
She blinked. The second she saw him peering inside, her composure cracked. "Give it back!" She lunged for it on reflex.
"Give the bag back," Yūto Shō said, smirking, "and let me kiss you one more time."
Egawa Mitsuki froze mid-reach.
He didn't wait for her answer. He bent his head and rummaged with the focus of a kid raiding a loot box. Unsatisfied with what he found by hand, he flipped the bag upside down and shook it out across the seat with a clatter—a vibrating egg, a silicone toy shaped unmistakably like a man, and a sealed box of contraceptive pills.
Egawa Mitsuki's face drained of color.
Yūto Shō stared at the haul, then slowly lifted his eyes to her with a look that could only be described as full Araki side-eye. What kind of EDC was this? School days, weekends, vacations—she carried this entire arsenal around like a battle-ready magical girl?
He picked up the unopened box of pills and waved it lightly. "Birth control. Like the condoms. You bought these for me too, right? Am I really that scary? Worried I'll knock you up the second you blink?"
In his head, he wasn't fooled into thinking he'd conquered her. Stocking up like this was less surrender and more… bracing for impact. If escape from the demon king's clutches wasn't on the table, may as well prep the inventory.
Honestly, the way her mind worked had a kind of weird, original-character charm to it.
Egawa Mitsuki pressed her lips into a tight line and said nothing.
Yūto Shō didn't push. He set the pills aside, then picked up the little pink egg, rolling it between his fingers with theatrical curiosity. "How many times have you used this one?"
She bit down hard and kept her silence.
Yūto Shō clicked the switch. The egg sprang to life with a soft, insistent bzzz-bzzz-bzzz, and he pressed it directly against her left breast through the fabric, smiling wide. "I'm genuinely curious, you know. If you won't talk, I'll just have to interrogate you another way."
Her face went up in flames. Her breath stuttered, the buzzing humming through her chest until that sensitive peak swelled tight and aching against her clothes. She couldn't get a clean breath in. "I've never used it—not even once—take it off—"
Yūto Shō's brows rose, then settled into something solemn and mock-serious. "Then we have to use it. Otherwise it's just wasted money, right?"
As he spoke, he dragged the buzzing egg up and pressed it directly over the stiff little peak straining beneath her shirt.
A sharp, bitter heat lanced through Egawa Mitsuki's chest. She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached, body trembling as she fought to ride out the strange, humming pressure pulsing relentlessly against the most sensitive point on her body, the egg buzzing on and on without mercy.