Haruki's fingers tugged at the collar of his shirt as he pressed Kyouko gently against the wall near the entryway, lips still moving with hers. Slow, deep, and desperate, like a man starved for only one taste.
His hands found the buttons, undoing them one by one without looking, the fabric parting as their kiss deepened. The warmth of his chest brushed hers—bare skin to delicate fabric, as his shirt slipped from his shoulders and fell to the floor.
Their lips parted slowly, breath mingling in the narrow space between them.
Kyouko looked up, cheeks flushed, her eyes hazy with desire.
A playful smile touched her lips.
"I thought you wanted dinner first..." she whispered, voice soft and teasing.
Haruki leaned in, his voice brushing her ear like silk.
"You are my dinner..."
His hands glided down her sides, memorizing every curve as if seeing her for the first time.
