Her lips were swollen.
Red. Wet. Bruised.
Trembling.
But even now — after being used, filled, turned inside out and back again — Ai still reached for me. Her hands weakly found my shoulders, dragging me down, and her fingers curled around my neck like she needed me more than she needed air.
She pulled me into a kiss.
Not just a kiss.
The kiss.
The kind that hurt. That melted. That tasted like everything we were in that moment — sweat, sex, spit, love, madness.
"Asahi…" she whispered into my mouth. "One more time. Just one. I want it slow. Deep. I want to feel you everywhere. But don't stop kissing me. Not even for a second."
I blinked.
Her voice was hoarse. Barely more than a broken breath. Her eyes were red from crying. Her whole body — soaked, ruined, overstimulated — twitched with every heartbeat.
And she still wanted more.
