Chapter Text
She tried to pull away, but his teeth clamped down hard on her lip. For a moment, she was locked against him, their hot breath intermingling. She was so close that she could smell the sweat on his skin under the scent of the expensive cologne that he usually wore. The taste of the cigar on his tongue should have been unpleasant and acrid, but somehow it was intoxicating to the senses.
He pulled roughly backwards. With their mouths still attached, she fell against his chest, her hands braced on his shoulders for balance. His breath ghosted over her cheeks. "Is this the best you can do, Katou? Lock me up like this? I've been kidnapped three times in my life, and I do assure you—this is a mere walk in the park."
Her lip throbbed where he had bit her, and she swiped her tongue over the tender area to check if she was bleeding. The taste of iron told her he had broken the skin. His amused chuckle, however, drove all thoughts of her own welfare out of her head. Her hand curled into a claw at his clavicle and then she was holding the base of his throat in her hand as she pushed off him.
In the back of her mind, she wondered if she had completely lost her senses. She could not be standing pressed up against the worst person in the world in an old, dilapidated warehouse, with her elbow braced against his sternum and her fingers clenched around his throat as he stared at her with a strange intensity. This shouldn’t be happening, not her awareness of the heat of his body through the thin fabric of his impeccably tailored shirt. She shouldn't be thinking of the time they had raided the night club or how she'd flushed with mortification as the women crowded around him, rubbing their naked sinuous limbs all over him, crying out, "Daisu-kun!" as though he were a favorite pet.
He was nobody's pet, and the way he'd noticed her discomfort and immediately latched onto it like a leaping predator was evident. "Jealous, Katou-chan?" His soft voice was tinted with mockery. “Don’t be; they’re not a replacement for my partner.”
She didn’t know what he’d been talking about, except it was clearly a taunt to show just how much amusement he still derived in making her dance to his tune. From the moment he’d walk over to her on that bridge and stared down into her face, her hands desperately holding on for dear life and adamantly refusing not to cry out for help, she’d known the depths of his depravity.
So she didn’t have much of a social life and dressed like a homeless man (his words, not hers); that didn’t make her any less of a person. She wasn’t going to pander to his ego like those girls just to make a point. She had never and would never start fluttering her lashes and talk in breathless, high-pitched voices just to get his attention. His opinion of her was not fact.
She brought her face within centimeters of his and hissed out her disdain. “What you think of me doesn’t affect me at all, you fucker. I am good at my job and I’m ecstatically whole as a person.”
Katou had apparently not choked him hard enough. His face was still its normal color as he stared back at her. “Are you? Your reaction to the kiss says otherwise.”
And there it was again, his accusation--but no, that was the wrong word, wasn’t it? Accusation meant that he actually put heat into denouncing her. There had been no heat, only that light, derisive way about him as he cast doubt on her appeal as a woman. Of course she wasn’t the kind to appeal to someone like him--especially when she wasn’t for sale!
She hadn’t meant to rub against him with her leg as she stepped around him. She meant only to adjust her stance so that her feet were on the outside of his so that she didn’t have to touch him, but his low hiss gave him away. Her head jerked up and she evaluated him. “That’s right,” she said half to herself. “They’d said at the club that you usually do the tying up. This is a bit of a switch for you, isn’t it? How does it feel to be on the receiving end? A bit out of your element now, aren’t you?”
He didn’t bother to dignify that with a response, but the fire in his eyes made this irises sparkle like jewels.
Katou released his throat and let her hands trail down either side of his abdomen. He didn’t move a muscle in response. There was no visible flinching but his obliques were tense under her wandering fingers.
“Have I finally made the great Daisuke Kanbe uncomfortable?” she asked, gripping the sides of his lean waist in both hands.
She wasn’t positive, but she was almost certain he was into extremely deviant acts. Everything about him, from his demeanor to his behavior, shouted dominant. He’d even boasted about being kidnapped three times before. Nothing could faze him except probably having to play the submissive.
Still something stopped her. This wasn’t her at all. She’d had the occasional relationship, even a few one night stands, but all that had gone by the wayside with a job as demanding as hers. Doing anything with a coworker--even if a monumental prick like him--was off limits.
His lashes dropped as he surveyed her jean-clad legs braced on either side of his bound ankles. His gaze slowly and insolently made their way up her body before staring her dead in the eyes again. “Do it,” he said, the top edge of his lip curling up in the slightest line of a sneer. “If you dare.”
His insinuation was that she didn't dare, and her back teeth ground together in response. She pushed him so that his back fell against the pipe on the wall, his handcuffs clanking against the steel. His arms were bent at the elbows up over his head, and his hands fisted together in reaction before he released them.
Too conscious of his tell, she imagined.
Katou jerked at his shirt until the ends came free of his waistband. "Dare what? Dare to touch you, you capitalistic scum? You're my hostage, Kanbe—" her hand slid under the bottom of his shirt to touch his taut stomach and she smirked as his abdomen concaved under the contact "—I can do anything I want with you."
She was momentarily lost in the feel of his ridged midsection. She'd heard—they all had, ad nauseum—that he'd been professionally trained in judo. He was so lean that with clothing on, he seemed like a slim panther. Not someone she would assume to possess enviable abs.
Her fingers danced over his hot skin. She wasn't—she wasn't going to do anything to him, not really. She was only going to— tease him a little, that was all. He deserved it, for all the dastardly things he'd done in justifying the means , all the things he'd said to hint at how she wasn't worth half of him.
The button of his trousers popped open, and both of them froze in response before she slid her hand in and touched the outline of him in his silken boxers. This time he flinched in reaction as she trailed her hand lightly over his length. Half-hard, he had a sizable girth, but what was even more entertaining was the fact that his knuckles were now white as he gripped the pipe.
His eyes were narrowed and flinty as he hissed out a breath through his teeth. “Don’t start what you don’t plan on finishing,” he said, biting out every single word as though they had personally offended him.
She was getting a reaction from him finally.
There had been times in the past when she’d had to witness his effect on others, men and women. Her supervisor, even, rolled over and played dead for this man. Women on the street stopped and squealed when they caught a glimpse of him. It was maddening. Was there no one to put him in his place?
Yes, a voice whispered inside Katou’s head. You will. You can.
She pulled her hand out of his pants and began to unbutton his shirt, one by one, popping each out of its buttonhole and pulling his shirt apart. His tie dangled limply around his neck. She cocked her head to the side and considered it. She rather liked the effect of it, like a leash on a wildcat.
Once the shirt was fully open, she lowered her head and licked his chest, right next to his nipple. A glance upwards showed that he had thrown his head back against the pipe and that the lines of his neck were tight with unspoken emotion.
“Who’d ever have known that this would be the way to get you to shut up?” she murmured. “All those times that I wanted to muzzle you, and this was how to do it all along.”
She thought of endless reports she had filed, countless investigations she had started--only to be halted mid-track when he carelessly took over. He’d once put out his cigar on her report, burning a hole singing through the entire file folder and scorching a mark on her desk top before she jumped to her feet and poured water over her flicker of flames. He’d gotten what he wanted in the end that time, gotten her attention and scraping hours of work.
Her teeth ground down as she smiled at him. Her hand delved into his pants again, this time also reaching into his boxers.
His cock was searing hot to the touch, and he was rock-hard now, a long tumescent shaft that her hand almost couldn’t close around. She glanced down and noted its light pink color and the pre-come glistening on its tip. Involuntarily, she licked her lips as she absently rubbed her thumb over the mushroom tip.
“You’re wrong about me, you know?” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears as she bent her head to examine her task. “I’m not a prude, no matter what you think. I just don’t have sex indiscriminately. There’s nothing wrong with that at all.”
Still he didn’t say a word, his lips tightened into a thin line on his face.
She lowered herself into a kneeling position and licked the side of his shaft. His cock pulsed in response. Above her, Kanbe expelled a rush of air. “Tell me to stop,” she said, pressing a kiss along the underside of his shaft. “Beg me to stop, and I will.”
Katou thought she’d love that. She’d love to bring this man to his knees, to beg for something. He’d understand what it was like then. Months she’d dealt with him ignoring her pleas, teasing her in a manner that was just short of sexual harassment, and now she finally had the upper hand.
Really, this was nothing short of mind-blowing satisfaction. She even felt a little turned on seeing him like this.
He still said nothing; only shook his head slightly. A bead of sweat had formed on his brow.
She shrugged in response, to say that he had made his own bed. So be it then. Her hand tightened around his shaft and pumped once, twice, in a rhythm maddeningly slow. Then, not taking her eyes off his, she closed her mouth around his bulbous tip.
There was a smothered groan from him, and his chest rose and fell in reaction. She could see his clenched teeth, and it felt like the sweetest victory.
“So this is what you taste like,” she said, releasing him with an audible pop of her lips. “You taste like a mortal man after all.” She returned to his cock, hollowing out her cheeks as she sucked him harder and deeper into her mouth. Gratifyingly, his hips canted forward before she pushed him back against the pipe with her other hand. She was controlling the show here, not him.
He fell back with a metallic clang, his breathing labored. “Fuck .” The expletive was hissed out through clenched teeth.
Finally. She lifted her eyes to stare up at him. His eyes were closed and the tendons on either side of his shoulders stood out. There was a glistening wetness next to his nipple where she had licked him.
Something in the pit of her stomach unfurled at the feel of his cock dipping in and out of her mouth. It had been so long since she’d last had this. Her last few relationships hadn't been anything to write home about, and she'd realised she wasn’t made for domesticity. This wasn’t a relationship, though, was it? This was a game of cat and mouse with her adversary.
She swallowed hard, flicking her tongue over the slit in his glans. It really wasn’t fair how his cock was just as pretty as every other part of him. If it had been anyone else, she really would have fancied him for a fuck…
Well, why not?
Katou straightened and rose to her feet. Kanbe’s hands let go of the pipe and he lowered his chin to stare at her. His eyes flickered over her features in a way that seemed as though he were trying to work out her motives and plans. Certainly he didn’t expect her to do what she did then, which was to grasp him by the back of the neck and kiss him fully on the lips.
It was an open-mouthed kiss, their lips opening and closing on one another. Her tongue dashed into his mouth, and he sucked on it almost urgently, in a way that contrasted against everything calm and emotionless and sociopathically aloof about Daisuke Kanbe. His hips bucked up against her stomach, and she could feel his hardness prodding her there; making her want, making her need, making her ache.
What was the harm in taking from this man? Certainly he would never begrudge this. Sex was a commodity, he’d said when they raided the nightclub.
So be it then.
She lifted her head away, silently laughing as his mouth followed and tried to extend the contact. His eyes flashed open and watched her, widening a little as she took off her jacket. Her shirt came up over her head, leaving just her bra, and that too was unlatched and thrown to one side.
Kanbe seemed to find her bare breasts inordinately fascinating even though she was sure he’d seen hundreds of them. Her breasts were very average, unexceptionable and tipped with dusky nipples. Nobody had ever complained about them, nor had she received compliments beyond the norm. With a sigh, Katou jerked his attention away by tugging at the hair at the back of his scalp. When he looked up, his pupils were dilated, and there was a flush high on his cheekbones.
She’d unfastened her jeans and pulled it down with her underwear before straddling him. His feet were no longer braced vertically against the pipe, but slanted out in front of him so that their heights were evenly matched.
She wiggled to a position straddling him, a knee hitched up over his hip. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he watched her. She couldn’t help the small gasp as her breasts touched his bare skin. Her nipples ached from the teasing sensation and she rubbed herself against him until she herself was breathing hard from the contact.
"God…" she said on a breathy sigh.
But that wasn’t enough. That didn’t satisfy the ache in her core, that emptiness in the pit of her that cried out to be filled by his long, hard shaft. She reached behind her to adjust his cock to line up at her entrance. "Yesssss…"
Who had that hissed sound of satisfaction belonged to? It was hard to tell.
"Katou, Katou," he murmured, his gravelly exhortation dancing across her cheek.
With her eyes closed, she could imagine he was someone else, someone tall and strong and intelligent and ruthlessly persistent. Someone with wide shoulders and a lean stomach and a cock that fucked like a dream. Someone with dark hair and blue eyes that looked like ice chips reflected by the sky—
Dammit, Katou thought, her eyes flashing open and locking with Kanbe’s. He was not her dream man. He was nobody but a rich man’s errant son, wreaking havoc wherever he went. He was good for one thing only today, and that was to make her come.
With a growl, she bit down on the side of his neck, just hard enough to make him inhale sharply. With one hand holding his shaft in place, she rubbed herself over his manhood. The sound of their slickness rubbing against one another sounded lewdly in the silence. There was a moan and a whimper—did that come from her? She rubbed harder; something was building in the pit of her stomach.
"Katou, stop," he said, pulling away from her mouth. Through heavy eyelids, she vaguely registered that his lips were wet and swollen. "Not like this, Katou. Not like this."
She ignored him, gripping him in place with her thighs when he attempted to buck her off.
"Fuck, Katou, open these handcuffs. I need to touch you." Another groan before she smothered his objections with a thorough kiss, their mouths sealed on one another, their tongues simulating a different sort of mating.
She was so wet from rubbing herself on him. Reaching behind her, she guided him to her sopping entrance and slowly sank down on him, feeling herself stretched by his girth, centimeter by centimeter until she was completely impaled by his length. His chest was slick with sweat under her hands, and she dipped her head again to lick his nipple. He growled in response, and the handcuffs clanked against the pipe like a gong.
“Katou!” he said, the words coming out harsh and strained and harsh. “Let me touch you. Uncuff me!”
She ignored him, just as he’d often ignored her in the past. She continued to ride him, squeezing him, fucking him. She gripped the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together as she pumped her hips around his girth.
“Katou!” he practically grated out through a raw throat. “Let me go!” The handcuffs banged on the pipe when he shook the pipe, and she paused as the entire series of pipes behind him gave a collective shiver at his violence. When a glance upwards showed that it was not in the process of collapsing down around them, she continued to ride him. She reached a hand down to rub on her clit and moaned at the sensations ripping through her.
Another two pumps and she was cresting, the pressure building and building in the pit of her stomach, rising up over her in an intense and distressingly urgent crescendo until she collapsed on his chest, one arm loosely looped around his neck while the other one touched the place they were joined. Her ragged breathing slowed as she descended from her high.
His hips jerked and pumped a few times against her only to be shoved back by her hands. Wide blue eyes flew to meet hers as he stayed pressed back. “Katou. What are you doing?”
With a flick of her hand, Katou flipped her hair over her shoulders and unhitched her knee from around his hip. She climbed off him with a sound like a wet slide of skin on skin. His shaft was an angry pink now and slick with her juices. It jutted from his body at an impossibly high angle, still raging hard and engorged.
“Fuck. What are you doing, Katou? We're not finished here!" She heard him as though from far away down a long tunnel.
She ripped her eyes away from his still ramrod stiff erection and bent down to retrieve her underwear and jeans.
“Katou!” he shouted, his tone angry and strident. He gave an awkward hop and tried to rise up against the pipe. His cock was wet and glistening and bobbed with his movements. “What the fuck are you doing?” His cuffs hammered resoundingly in time to his anger.
She glanced back up at him, her eyes unwillingly drawn back to his hard-on before looking away. “I’m getting dressed. Obviously.”
His teeth were bared as he banged the back of his head against the pipe three times in rapid succession. “You can not be thinking of leaving me like this. You can’t just walk away from this. What kind of a woman are you?”
She ran two fingers down the length of his still-hard cock, feeling the heat and the wetness from their coupling. Then she lifted her hand and let her fingertips drift over his lips. His eyes closed, and his tongue emerged to flicker over her fingers. His chest rose and fell as he breathed in the scent of their coupling. "Unlock me, Katou. We could be so good together—"
Abruptly, she pushed his face away and cut him off. "Daisuke Kanbe, now you know what it feels like to be used."
She stepped away from him, ignoring his string of obscene threats as she gazed around the room and located her bra. She turned her back on Kanbe to pull it on, reaching behind her to hook the ends in one practiced movement. Another stoop, and she had her t-shirt. Fully dressed now, she quickly ran her hands over her hair, hoping that it didn’t resemble too much of a messy bush. Not that it really mattered.
He had fallen eerily silent by the time she finished dressing. “For fuck’s sake,” Kanbe said, the words very nearly garbled by how clenched his jaw was. “Unlock me.”
She uncoiled a length of chains from where it had been stashed behind some boards. Kneeling at his feet, she ignored his bobbing cock as she made him step inside the pre-measured loop. He hissed as she pulled it up over his genitals to rest around his middle. She adjusted the ends and rotated it around his midriff so that it rested in the small of his back. Then she passed the coil of chains between his legs over his pants to the front.
“What are you doing?” he asked, rattling his cuffs.
She didn’t respond, taking a key out of the pocket of her jeans.
He grinned ferally at her, as wild as he had been cool and calm before his downfall today. Locks of his hair hung about his temples, as mussed as though he had been through a wringer. “I’m going to make you regret today, Katou. I’m going to tie you down and fuck you until you beg me to stop.”
She ignored him, reaching up over his head and pulling the chain between his legs up to head-level. His hands were slack as he evaluated the chain, trying to estimate where the other end was. She took advantage of his preoccupation as she unlocked one of his wrists. Before he could jerk away, she had his other hand re-cuffed around the chain.
He hopped once as his arms came down. She backed away warily.
He was now free from the pipe, but his waist was still manacled to a length of chains that draped down between his buttocks and looped between his thighs to be crossed twice with his handcuffs. He still wasn’t going anywhere, and by the furious glare he shot her, he knew it too. “What is this? You haven’t freed me.”
“The ends justify the means, right, Kanbe? This length of chain will allow you to use the bathroom right over there.” She nodded to the right side of the warehouse where there was a door to a small storage room. His head didn’t swivel, but his eyes followed her gaze. “I’ll be back to bring you food. Do you have any requests?”
“You can’t be fucking serious.”
His tone was tight with suppressed rage. If she’d ever wanted to see him ruffled before, she had it now in full. She’d wager that no one in the world had ever seen Daisuke Kanbe as she had, stripped down to his dignity, in more ways than one.
She brushed off her hands on her jeans. Her palms were surprisingly clammy. “I’m heading back to the office now.” Her words were cool and deliberately nonchalant. “I’ll see you later. Burgers alright for dinner?”
“Haru Katou!” His furious shout rang around the warehouse.
Ignoring the rest of his uncomplimentary curses, she strode off without a backwards glance.