"Satou," she begged, her voice barely recognizable. "Please. Touch me."

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers, and held her gaze as he finally, finally, let his fingers drift through the curls at the apex of her thighs. She whimpered, her legs falling open in silent invitation. His touch was light, a mere whisper against her slick, heated folds, and her entire body jolted.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice full of wonder. "All for me?"

"All for you," she confirmed, her back arching as he circled a finger around her clit. Oh, gods. Her eyes screwed shut, her world narrowing to that single, exquisite point of contact.

He explored her with a novice's curiosity, learning her rhythm, the pressure she needed. When he slid a finger inside her, she gasped at the slight stretch, the unfamiliar fullness. He stilled immediately. "Does it hurt?"

"No," she panted. "No, it's just… new. Don't stop." She rocked her hips against his hand, showing him what she needed, and he took the cue, beginning a slow, gentle rhythm with his finger while his thumb continued its maddening circles.

The coiling tension in her belly tightened, growing more and more urgent. She was climbing toward something, a peak she'd only ever read about or imagined. Her breaths came in short, sharp gasps. "Don't stop… please, don't stop…"

He added a second finger, stretching her further, and the sensation tipped her over the edge. A wave of pure, undiluted pleasure crashed over her, wringing a choked cry from her lips as her body convulsed around his hand. Stars, brighter than any in the Eternal Ring, exploded behind her eyelids.

As the aftershocks trembled through her, Satou held her, kissing her stomach, her hip, her thigh, whispering how beautiful she was, how incredible it was to feel her come apart for him

.

When she could finally open her eyes, she found him watching her, his expression one of stunned pride and fierce desire. She reached for him, pulling him up her body for a deep, languid kiss, tasting herself on his lips.

She broke the kiss, her hand sliding down between them to wrap around his length. He was velvety steel, hot and heavy in her hand. He groaned, his hips bucking into her touch. "Lyra…"

"I want you," she whispered, guiding him to her entrance. "I want all of you."

He positioned himself, the broad head of his cock pressing against her slick warmth. He looked into her eyes, a final, silent question. She answered by wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him closer.

"I'm right here," she breathed. "With you."

His breath hitched as her fingers wrapped around him, a soft groan escaping his lips. "Lyra… you don't have to…"

"I want to," she whispered, her voice laced with a newfound confidence that surprised even her. The aftershocks of her own climax still hummed through her veins, a boldness born of satiated pleasure. "I want to know you, Satou. All of you."

She shifted down the bed, the coarse sheets whispering beneath her skin. He watched her, his dark eyes wide with a mixture of awe and trepidation, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

She paused, her face level with his hips, the musky, masculine scent of him filling her senses. He was beautiful here, too, she thought, a thick, velvety length of him that pulsed with a life of its own under her tentative gaze.

Her first touch was a ghost of a thing, her lips brushing against the very tip. He jolted as if shocked, a sharp, guttural sound catching in his throat. "Gods…"

"Was that… okay?" she asked, pulling back slightly, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"More than okay," he rasped, his voice strained. "It's just… a lot. In the best way."

Emboldened, she did it again, this time letting her tongue dart out to taste the salty drop of moisture that had beaded there. The flavor was uniquely him, earthy and primal, and a fresh curl of heat low in her own belly acknowledged it. She opened her mouth wider, taking just the head of him inside, her tongue exploring the smooth, flared crown.

Satou's hand came down to gently cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. Not pushing, just holding. "Your mouth is so soft," he breathed, the words a reverent prayer. "So warm."

She hummed in response, the vibration making his hips twitch. She took him deeper, slowly, carefully, learning the shape of him. Her own inexperience was a guide; she moved by instinct, paying rapt attention to every hitch of his breath, every stifled moan. When he thickened against her tongue, she relaxed her jaw, letting him slide a little further into the warm, wet haven of her mouth.

"I'm not going to last," he warned, his voice tight with a tension she was thrillingly responsible for. "Lyra, I…"

She pulled back, leaving him glistening in the lamplight. "I want to feel it," she said, looking up the length of his body to meet his heated gaze. "I want to taste you."

Her words unleashed something in him. With a groan that was half surrender, half triumph, his control fractured. His hips gave a shallow, involuntary thrust and his release surged into her mouth.

It was a warm, slightly bitter flood, and she accepted it, swallowing gently, her tongue working him through the last pulses of his pleasure until he was trembling and spent.

Lyra released him with a soft, wet sound, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she crawled back up to lie beside him. He was panting, his eyes closed, a sheen of sweat on his brow. For a long moment, neither spoke, the only sound their syncing breaths.

Finally, satou turned his head to look at her. "I… I have no words." He reached out, his thumb stroking her cheek. "That was… Lyra."

She smiled, a slow, sated smile. "I liked it. I liked making you feel that way."

"The feeling was more than mutual," he said, rolling onto his side to face her.

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