Kyouya rolled his eyes, a clear sign of his dwindling patience.
"Geez," he muttered, shaking his head slightly.
He pushed Mei's hands away, though not harshly.
"We need to focus on the examination. The intellectual one. The tests."
His gaze, though still smoldering from their interrupted intimacy, flickered towards the scattered papers, attempting to regain his analytical composure.
Mei, however, was undeterred. Her earlier hunger had only intensified, and she wasn't about to let the moment, or his arousal, simply dissipate.
She watched his eyes, seeing the struggle between duty and desire. With a slow, deliberate movement, she leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear.
"Or," she purred, her voice a husky, chilling whisper that sent a shiver down his spine,
"we could examine your big thing instead."
The words, direct and utterly unexpected, hit Kyouya like a physical blow.
His eyes, just starting to refocus on the theoretical, widened, and his breath hitched. The carefully constructed wall of professional detachment he was trying to rebuild crumbled instantly. He looked at her, his resolve melting away, replaced by a raw, overwhelming need.
"... Alright. Mei," he gasped, his voice thick with surrender. His hand reached out, tangling in her hair, pulling her face closer.
"Do... just do whatever you want."
A slow, triumphant smile spread across Mei's lips, a wicked glint in her eyes.
She moved quickly, her body shifting with a liquid grace born of newfound confidence. Instead of just her hands or mouth, she pressed her soft, firm chest against his aroused length, massaging him with the sensitive skin of her breasts.
She leaned in, her mouth encompassing the tip of him like a lollipop, sucking deeply with an audible, almost shocking "pop" as she drew him in.
Kyouya's eyes rolled back slightly, a moan rumbling deep in his throat.
He felt the intense pleasure, the surprising fit, the way she took him in with such unexpected ease and skill. His analytical mind, despite the overwhelming sensation, couldn't help but overthink the sheer mechanics of it.
Since when did it fit like this? he wondered, a detached thought cutting through the haze of pleasure. It's... it's very fitting. A bit too much, even.
The moist, sucking sounds filled the intimate space, each pop of her mouth a direct assault on his remaining self-control, pulling him deeper into a pleasure he hadn't known she could command.
Mei's gaze held his for a fleeting second, a defiant gleam in her eyes before she plunged her head down, intent on her task. His length was undeniably monstrous, a thick, hot presence against her chin as she tried to take more of him.
Her cheeks distended, stretching uncomfortably, yet she pushed, her throat working with a desperate ambition. She felt the soft, yielding skin of her palate being pushed, the tight constriction of her throat muscles, as she attempted to swallow more of him.
A faint, muffled gag caught in her throat, a purely physical reaction to the sheer size, but her determination was absolute.
She tightened her lips, creating a vacuum around him, pulling with a fierce, almost audible suction.
The "pop" she made earlier became a sustained, wet sound, a deep, resonant schlorp as she tried to pull him further down. Her chest pressed harder, massaging him with a rhythmic sway that sent shivers through Kyouya's already overwhelmed body.
Her hands, surprisingly strong, gripped his hips, steadying him as she worked, her fingers digging into his flesh.
Kyouya's vision swam.
He was lost in a haze of sensation and bewildered thought.
Her mouth was a hot, insistent cavern, each movement a desperate, consuming pull. He felt his head being pressed down, her small hands guiding him with a surprising force.
The pressure against his palate was intense, a strange sensation as she tried to engulf him. He arched his back, a low groan escaping him, as he pushed into her mouth, meeting her undeniable challenge.
It doesn't make sense,
Kyouya's mind screamed, even as pleasure rocketed through him.
How does she... fit? This is beyond physics. The mechanics are illogical.
Yet, the reality was undeniable.
He felt himself being consumed, her small, determined throat working around his fullness, a wet, slick slide that left him trembling. The sounds were intimate, shocking: wet slurps, soft moans from Mei, and the deep, guttural sounds of his own pleasure.
Mei gritted her teeth, ignoring the faint ache in her jaw, the burn in her throat.
She wanted to take him all. No, she would take him all.
She tightened her core, summoning every ounce of her resolve, driving her head down, a silent, primal declaration of her fervent desire to consume him completely. The humid air felt thick, heavy with the sounds of their forbidden, audacious intimacy.
"Mei," Kyouya rasped, his voice strained, a note of concern cutting through his pleasure-addled mind. He pulled back slightly, causing her to lose some of her grip.
"Are you... are you okay?"
Mei, her cheeks flushed and slightly swollen, responded by simply shaking her head, a small, quick movement against him.
Her eyes, still wide and focused, conveyed a simple, primal need.
Kyouya frowned, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. He disliked her silence, especially now. "Talk to me," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
Abruptly, Mei released her suction, pulling back with a wet pop.
She looked up at him, her breath coming in short, quick gasps. "I'm fine," she insisted, her voice husky, "I really want your load, Kyouya-sama."
Kyouya groaned, shaking his head, one hand coming up to run through his hair, his fingers digging into his scalp. His eyes, still dark with desire, stared at her with a mix of disbelief and something akin to awe.
Her sheer audacity. Her blunt honesty. The raw insanity of her demand. He felt the wild, untamed energy radiating from her, a stark contrast to the perfectly composed assistant he had known.
He couldn't help but permit her.
This was beyond logical assessment, beyond control. With a defeated, yet incredibly aroused sigh, he let his hand drop from his head and simply leaned back against the headboard.
"Do it," he breathed, his voice a guttural surrender.
Mei's lips curved into a triumphant, almost feral smile.
She wasted no time.
Her head bobbed down again with renewed fervency, taking him back into her hot, wet mouth. Her chest, still pressed firmly against his base, began to pump rhythmically, massaging him with astonishing force. With her newly freed hands, she reached down, her fingers closing around his balls. She began to squeeze, gently at first, then with increasing pressure, a deliberate attempt to milk every single drop of load from him.
Kyouya's eyes rolled back once more, his breath catching in his throat.
He felt the dual assault—her skilled mouth, her tight throat, the intense massage of her chest, and now the firm, deliberate squeezing of his balls. It was an overwhelming torrent of sensation, pushing him closer to the brink.
Since when did it fit like this?
he found himself wondering again, the thought a fleeting spark in his mind amidst the blinding pleasure. Her chest, even as it worked tirelessly, seemed to perfectly cup him.
It's so fitting, he thought, a strange mixture of admiration and disbelief swirling within him. A bit too much, even. Like it was made for this.
Each wet thrust, each eager suckle, each rhythmic squeeze, pushing them further into their shared, undeniable climax.