Maki gently lowered Nemuri onto the chair, preparing her plate with care, even scooping the food for her. Nemuri simply watched, her eyes tracing his movements.
She sniffed the dish and asked, "Is this a new recipe?"
"Just for you," Maki replied, his voice low, calm, and intimate.
Nemuri smiled, picking up her fork and spoon. She took a bite—the meat was sweet, rich, perfectly balanced. He tasted it too, but his eyes never left her, holding her in a silent, possessive gaze.
After they finished, Maki cleared the table and served Nemuri her favorite latte. She was still absorbed in her phone.
"What's keeping you so absorbed?" he asked.
Nemuri didn't look up. "I recorded you playing your first song yesterday and posted it on my Hero-net. Just for fun… but it seems your voice really touched people."
Maki leaned closer, voice teasing, low against her ear. "Oh, you recorded me playing? Tsk, tsk… that's a bad habit, Nemuri."
He lingered, letting his breath tickle her skin. "Do you… record me when I'm in the bath too?"
Nemuri's eyes sparkled, teasing. "Oh… that's actually a good idea," she said, her voice husky.
Maki shook his head, smirking. "No need to record anything. You can see for yourself if you want."
"Look who's learning," Nemuri replied with a sly grin.
"So… did you like the song?" he asked.
"Of course. It's your first song, after all. I was waiting for you to choke or mess up, but I guess you know your thing," she said, eyes glinting with mischief.
"Then you won't be disappointed," Maki said, leaning closer, brushing his cheek against hers. "So… what did they say?"
Their cheeks pressed together as she handed him the phone. The video showed him strumming his guitar, hair falling over his face as he sang.
"That's a sneaky angle," he remarked.
Nemuri chuckled.
Scrolling down, he saw the stats: 5.7 million views, 3.2 million likes, 4.8 million comments, 5.2 million shares. "Well… that's actually good. I didn't think people would care about a song not about heroes."
"Who knows," Nemuri replied, tapping the comments.
Mister Titan: "Oh, such a song! Who's he?"
Lucky Byh: "What is this? A new song?"
Hoop Pergola: "Who's the singer?"
She looked up. "So… what should I reply to Mister Famous?"
Maki skimmed the comments. "I was going to tell you after dinner that I created Hero-net and YouTube pages for my music… but I guess you added some spice already."
"Oh, really?" Nemuri raised an eyebrow.
"I… I'm so—"
Before she could finish, Maki pressed his lips to hers. Time seemed to stop. Their mouths melded together, soft and wet, demanding and claiming. Three minutes passed in a shared haze of heat, breath, and pulse, until Maki pulled back just slightly.
"Don't worry—it's just a song, honey. Not a loss for me," he murmured, watching her wide-eyed.
Nemuri smiled, teasing, "Look who's taking advantage of a defenseless woman…" She licked her lips.
"Oh, sure," Maki replied, eyes dark, amused.
She didn't wait, wrapping her arms around his neck. Their lips met again, this time her mouth willingly yielding. Maki's tongue brushed hers, gentle at first, then seeking, exploring. Nemuri opened, letting him in.
Inside, his tongue pressed against hers with deliberate hunger, teasing, stroking, exploring every ridge, every curve of her mouth. Nemuri's lips parted under his insistence, letting him slip deeper, and the wet heat of him stole her breath. Her tongue tangled with his, sliding, coiling, pressing against his in a slow, desperate rhythm that left her shivering. Saliva pooled and dripped between them, hot, sticky, marking them both as theirs.
Every flick of his tongue, every stroke against hers, drove shivers down her spine. She felt it in her chest, in her belly, in the tight press of her thighs against his, a warmth pooling low, growing heavy and aching. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, her nails sinking into him as she tilted her hips instinctively, seeking more contact, more closeness, more of his greedy mouth.
Maki gasped softly, deep and low, vibrating into her lips, and it made her pulse quicken, her body trembling with want. Their tongues danced together like some Snakes swaying with the flute rhythm, slick, insistent, claiming and tasting. Every part of nemuri's mouth knew him, and every part of him knew her. She could feel the wet heat of their connection, raw and intimate, wrapping around them like clothes
Nemuri gasped into him when he pressed harder, curling her toes and tightening her thighs, every nerve screaming in delicious tension. Her lips quivered around Maki, opening and closing, tasting, swallowing, needing. The room seemed to shrink until there was nothing but the heat of him, the slick wet slide of tongues, and the shuddering tremors of her desire.
Time blurred. Ten minutes passed in silent, messy ecstasy—moans muffled in each other's mouths, the taste of herself and him mingling, dripping, sticky. When she finally pulled back, she was gasping, her lips glistened with strings of saliva, her chest heaving, her thighs still trembling with the ache of want. Her eyes met his, dark red and molten, and she realized—every first kiss should feel like this. Every first taste should burn and coil and leave her breathless, trembling, and completely his.
Breathing deep, she whispered, "That… was my very first kiss."
Maki smiled, dark and warm. "Thank goodness it was me."
Nemuri grinned. "Then consider yourself the luckiest man."
"Oh, really? Then it would be my great honor, your highness," Maki teased.
Nemuri chuckled, heat rising as she looked at him, their connection lingering long after lips parted.
AM N. NOT.8-)