Samurai Deeper Kyo Fan Fiction ❯ Wicked Ground ❯ Vying Lips ( Chapter 6 )

By the time Yuya got out of the club, she was pleasantly drunk and sprawled into the backseat of her car, listening to the steady fall of rain. Kyo sat in the passenger seat of the Sebring, Yukimura driving. Due to Yuya’s slight intoxication, Yukimura, like the agreeable gentleman he was, offered to drive them home. Yuya didn’t have enough of a mind to say no, realizing that once he was in her place, he may not want to leave.

“Here, this way,” Yukimura said amiably, an arm around Yuya. “You’re at the top, right?”

“Mmmmm,” Yuya murmured, snuggling her face into Yukimura’s neck. He smelled of rice wine and citrus shampoo.

Kyo followed stonily behind them, glaring at Yukimura’s back. What is this bastard doing here? I will kick his ass out if he even mentions staying the night. He thought angrily.

Yukimura opened the door and led Yuya inside, whispering in her ear. Yuya giggled –actually giggled­- and Kyo rolled his eyes, thinking some very ungentlemanly things about Yuya’s friend Yukimura.

Yukimura helped Yuya over to the couch, onto which they both collapsed in a fit of laughter. Yukimura was playfully hugging Yuya to him, saying softly, “That Kyo of yours really likes you, you know…”

Yuya scoffed, pulling out of his arms and falling back against the couch cushions. “As if,” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else.

Yukimura leaned over, his lips brushing hers. He whispered softly, “Do you doubt my judgment?”

Yuya seemed to sober a bit, having the mind to ask, “Yukimura, what are you doing? I thought you and Saizo-”

“We are, and as happy as ever,” Yukimura alleged before adding, lips brushing her ear, “But right now I’m trying to help you get laid… have you not noticed the way Kyo’s been acting? He wants you… all he needs is a little push.”

“And this would be considered a little push?” Yuya murmured, finally catching on. Her lips met Yukimura’s briefly –the corners of his lips were pulled up in a charming smile.

“More like a drastic shove, but whatever,” Yukimura teased before standing. He tugged fondly on a strand of Yuya’s hair that had fallen out of her bun. “I’ll see you some time when you’re sobered up, kiddo. I don’t like drunken partners in bed,” he teased, leaning over to kiss her forehead. He whispered in an undertone, “Be good, have fun, use protection, don’t get caught.”

Yuya laughed –that used to be their slogan through high school. Yukimura really hadn’t changed in all those years. “Okay, okay, go,” she laughed, playfully pushing him away. “Go home to Saizo; give the others my love. Tell Sasuke I want to see him some time –I didn’t like missing him at the club.”

“Alright,” Yukimura laughed, heading for the door. He glanced at Kyo, his smile widening. “Goodnight, Kyo,” he added in a singsong voice before ducking out of the door. Yukimura wasn’t sure if Kyo might be mad enough to grab something hard and heavy to smash against his head. Smiling to himself, Yukimura flagged down a taxi and headed back to his hotel. The rest would be up to Yuya and Kyo.

…

Back in the penthouse, Yuya made herself comfortable on the couch. She was aware of Kyo’s heavy gaze but in her drunkenness, she really didn’t care. Sprawled across the cushions, head resting on the armrest, Yuya gave an exhausted chuckle. “God, Kyo, you never said you could actually dance.”

Kyo had moved up behind the couch, leaning against it with his arms draped over the top cushion. He was still looking at her with that heated expression that he had had in the club. Yuya looked away, unnerved slightly by his stare, his solemn silence, his closeness. Why had that expression been so empowering when they were in the club? Now it was downright disturbing. Had it been the music, the people, the lights?

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Yuya began, knowing that she was about to begin a babble-fest. She normally rambled when she was nervous –it was as if she couldn’t’ stand having a silent moment with this man. With Kyoshiro, she was able to sit comfortably in silence. Why was this Mibu so different?

She then began talking about something along the lines of the case, not even sure if what she was saying made sense. She was only silenced when Kyo made his way around the couch to stand in front of her.

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Kyo muttered, moving her legs off of the couch so that he could sit down.

Yuya flushed angrily. “I’m making up for your lack of words!” she growled.

She was adorable when she was angry. Kyo smiled at her; a crooked, somewhat predatory smile, but a smile nonetheless. Yuya flushed again, this time standing up and making for the hallway to her bedroom.

Kyo, though, had other plans. He wouldn’t stand for her walking out on him. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him. Yuya stumbled, ungracefully landing on Kyo’s lap, legs on either side of him. She blushed, knowing that, in this position, her skirt was serving no purpose whatsoever. “Kyo-”

Kyo’s lips brushed against the bridge of her nose, over her cheek, down the length of her jaw. His eyes remained open and on her, watching as her confused eyes widened slowly in shock.

“Kyo?” she whispered, the voice trembling.

Kyo’s lips moved to hers, hands running up the sides of her thighs, under the barely-there fishnet and microskirt. Yuya gasped as Kyo’s hands plunged up and under the skirts. A small spark that had come about due to his kiss now exploded into a fire that burned in her abdomen.

Kyo took Yuya’s moment of shocked surprise to slip his tongue into her mouth. He explored every nook and cranny of her mouth, his tongue caressing her as his fingers kneaded the flesh of her inner thighs. Yuya finally began to respond, but not in defense; in surrender. Her tongue wrestled with his, a dominance game, as her hands curled around fistfuls of his thick hair.

Kyo moaned, pulling his lips from hers only to assault her neck. Yuya threw her head back, gasping for breath. Her every sense seemed sharpened, aware of every move Kyo made, every caress of her thighs, every individual kiss on her neck.

“Off,” Yuya moaned, hands slipping from Kyo’s hair to his shoulders. She tugged feebly at the black material of his shirt, but with his hands and lips on her, she couldn’t muster any strength. “I want this off,” she murmured, tilting her head back up.

Kyo’s lips had stopped at her collarbone. He smiled, softly, and pulled back. “Then you’ll have to take it off, won’t you?”

Yuya pushed Kyo back so that he was sprawled across the couch, his pale skin and shock of red hair in stark relief against the black leather. Her fingers went to the hem of his shirt. She felt those firm, tight abdominal muscles under her hands and the fire within her belly spread lower. Yuya waded the material in her hands, pulling it up and over his head-

Kyo hardly waited for her to throw the offensive material to the floor before he pulled her down on top of him. His lips captured hers, hands going to her Malice Mizer tee and yanking it off. Under the purple tee, there was nothing but fishnet baring him from seeing the rest of her. His fingers slowly went under the material, brushing against her warm, flushed skin.

Yuya had been too caught up in the kiss to notice Kyo’s hands until they were on her breasts. Kyo’s warm, rough and calloused hands smoothed over her breasts, gentler than Yuya had ever imagined they could be. He acted as if she would break, as if he had to be gentle.

“I’m not made of glass, you know,” she whispered against his lips, one of her legs tangling with his.

That seemed to be all Kyo needed to hear. His hands tightened and a jolt of pain and longing shot threw Yuya so quickly that she yelped. The yelp turned into a moan halfway out as Kyo’s fingers toyed with her nipples, slowing, teasing her.

Yuya smiled, head falling onto Kyo’s chest, back arched. If that was how he wanted to play, Yuya could do teasing of her own. Her lips moved to his chin and along his jaw as her hand stole away to the hem of his pants. She felt him, hard and straining, against her hand and another flood of longing shot through her. She undid the button and zipper of his jeans, which was difficult due to her trembling fingers. She pulled the jeans, only able to get the down to his knees; but that would surface for the time being. Yuya’s hand dipped below the band of his boxers, intent on a plan of their own.

Kyo’s hips, unintentionally, bucked against her hand. Yuya smirked at Kyo’s widened, seemingly shocked cranberry eyes. His own lips turned into a crooked smile of his own. “I knew you wanted me,” Kyo murmured against her ear.

Yuya couldn’t keep the smile from her face as Kyo lifted the fishnet shirt off of her and tugged at her skirts. There was no way to get them off while lying down, and Kyo seemed to realize that. Instead of even bothering with them, he rolled Yuya over so she was on bottom, her hand forced to come out from within his boxers. He kicked his jeans off, seeming unconcerned, before his hands went to her thighs, spreading them slowly.

For a split second, a tremor of uncertainty shot through Yuya. They shouldn’t be doing this. He was her client for God’s sake. Akira had pulled so many strings that it might get him fired and this is how Yuya repaid him? And what about her? Surely she was ready for some commitment in a relationship –which she knew for a fact would not be coming from Kyo Mibu. He was probably just like his brother…

Kyo’s hand brushed against her panties and all rational thoughts left Yuya with her sharp inhale of breath. “You’re wet,” Kyo murmured silkily, hand stroking over the black lace of her underwear.

“I know,” Yuya gasped, heading cushioned by the armrest once again. The couch, she was almost positive, was not the best place for this; but she was willing and she wasn’t too sure her legs could walk into the bedroom at this point.

Kyo’s fingers were at the hem of her panties, about to pull them down over her hips, when the phone rang. At first the sound was faint to Yuya, but it grew louder until she finally noticed it with a start.

“Ignore it,” Kyo said, crimson eyes meeting her blue-green ones. He looked very part of the predator, but there was something fragile there as well. Something Yuya wanted to see again…

The phone continued to ring shrilly, seeming to never cease. Yuya cast a glance from the phone to Kyo and back again. Finally, with a sigh, she got up, pulling her legs from beneath Kyo, and made her way for the phone. On the way, she grabbed her tee, pulling it on.

“Hello?” she asked, making sure to not to look at Kyo as she spoke.

“Miss Shiina, this is Officer Shinrei from the courthouse,” a soft, unconcerned voice murmured on the other line. “I’m sorry for calling you so early in the morning. I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Tokugawa, the man Mr. Mibu sent into a coma, has awoken. The trial date is set for next Tuesday. Do you have any questions I may be able to answer for you? …Miss Shiina?”

There was a moment of sickening understanding that suddenly bombarded Yuya. The man had awoken, and if he was any bit as malicious as Kyo painted him to be, Yuya might be in for some sleepless nights. She had never lost a case yet –could this be the turning point of her career? Yuya nearly sank to her knees at the thought.

“Miss Shiina?” Shinrei repeated. “Is there anything I may be able to help you with?”

“What?” Yuya snapped. “No, no, nothing. Goodbye,” she said simply before turning the phone off. She leaned heavily against the wall, eyes focused on the carpet beneath her feet. She needed some answers and she needed them soon. She only had five more days until the trial and she had basically done nothing in preparation.

She turned her eyes onto Kyo, feeling the remnants of lust slipping away and being replaced by embarrassment. Kyo was watching her over the back of the couch, eyes heavy and angry.

“I… I have to go take a shower and… and go to bed,” she murmured, hoping the dark living room hid her blush. “There’s blankets and pillows in the closet over there… make yourself comfortable.”

She made a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. Not to keep Kyo out, for she knew he would never stoop to coming and begging. No, it was to keep her in. She slid down the door, falling to the floor with a thump. Tears welled in her eyes.

What did I do to deserve this? She thought, wiping at her unstoppable tears. I can’t be in love… I barely know him. It’s lust. It’s only lust.

No matter how many times she told herself that as she stripped of her clothes and got into the shower, she wasn’t able to believe it.