"You know… I waited a long time for this moment," Hitomi said, letting the last piece of clothing fall with a slow, almost ritualistic motion.
Her gaze wasn't shy. It was direct, sharp—like that of a huntress who had finally cornered her prey.
'It's not just desire… it's instinct.'
"I waited too," I replied, stepping closer without haste.
"Kiss me."
It wasn't a request. It was a soft command, heavy with need.
When our lips met, Hitomi didn't kiss like an ordinary human. Her mouth was demanding, dominant—claiming space, testing, marking. Her fangs brushed my lower lip on purpose, drawing a low exhale from my chest.
We moved toward the bed like two bodies pulled by something older than reason. When we separated, she looked up at me, her eyes shining with something unnaturally bright.
"You're mine," she murmured, more to herself than to me.
My hands traced her skin, feeling the contrast between human softness and the wild tension beneath it. Hitomi answered with a low growl, arching into my touch as if her body reacted before her mind did.
When she pulled me toward her, she did it with strength—not desperation, but certainty.
The first contact was intense. Hitomi's body tensed and a stifled moan escaped her lips, her claws digging into my back by reflex. She didn't pull away. She didn't flee. She held on.
"…Don't stop," she said between uneven breaths.
The rhythm built slowly, like a primitive dance. Every movement awakened something deeper. Hitomi moved with me, learning, adapting, guided by an ancient instinct that made her cling, wrap around me, claim.
Her breathing turned ragged, her voice more animal than human. My name slipped from her lips, mixed with guttural sounds that sent shivers through my spine.
When she reached her climax, her entire body reacted—tensing, her tail flicking sharply, a low growl tearing from her throat as she clung to me as if afraid I would disappear.
I followed her soon after.
When it was over, we remained together, sweaty, breathing in sync. Hitomi didn't pull away. She curled against me, marking me with her scent, her warmth, her presence.
But the rest didn't last long.
Her instincts weren't done.
Hitomi began to move again, wilder this time, driven by something rawer, less human. There was no more tenderness—only shared desire and bodies responding without words.
That night wasn't romantic.
It was primal.
And neither of us slept.