After making out for some time, their breaths gradually slowed. The wind curled around them gently, cool against flushed skin, but neither moved to pull away. Instead, they remained locked in each other's arms, their foreheads lightly touching. Their smiles came soft and easy now, blooming with something unspoken but deeply understood.
Their eyes met—amber and brown—holding more than words ever could. Comfort. Heat. Trust. The kind of closeness born from years of quiet loyalty now finally allowed to burn without restraint.
"Let's go back down before the sun goes down," he said, brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek.
"Yeah," she nodded, her voice a murmur as her hand slid down to find his. "Lead the way."
Fingers laced, they turned toward the trail. He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and warm, and she smiled at the sound—genuine, teasing. Their steps were slow at first, as if reluctant to leave that quiet hilltop behind. The birds had started to settle in, and the golden light dripped through the trees as they made their way down the winding path, the silence between them calm and filled with warmth.
By the time they reached the cabin, the sky had shifted into dusk—purple bleeding into orange at the edges of the horizon. Ichigo fumbled for the door, but Tatsuki didn't wait. She pressed up against him with a fire in her eyes that hadn't cooled at all.
The door creaked open—barely.
Before it even had the chance to close behind them, their lips crashed again.
This time, it wasn't slow or thoughtful—it was hungry.
Tatsuki pulled him in by the collar, forcing him back into the room as he kicked the door shut behind them. Their hands explored with familiarity and urgency, tugging at clothes, tracing lines already memorized. Her back hit the wall and she let out a soft, breathy laugh before pulling him in again—no hesitation, no holding back.
It was as if the hours of restraint on the hill had only sharpened the desire now unraveling between them.
He kissed her like he needed her. She kissed him like it was her last. Her hands were already under Ichigo's shirt, fingers trailing up the planes of his chest like she was rediscovering him inch by inch.
He kissed her harder, but slower this time—like he'd waited long enough and now wanted to feel every second of her. His hands found her hips, grounding her, pressing her into him with gentle force. Their breathing grew shallow, mingling between parted lips.
"Tatsuki," he murmured against her mouth, voice low and deep. "Are you sure?"
She blinked up at him, chest rising and falling with barely contained tension. For a moment, the fire in her eyes softened into something else—vulnerability, maybe even nervousness.
But then she nodded, her hand cupping his cheek. "I'm sure. I want you."
Ichigo's gaze searched hers, and when he found no hesitation, only trust, he exhaled like the weight of years had left his shoulders.
He lifted her gently by the thighs, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, breath catching in her throat as he carried her to the bed. The world outside melted away, leaving only the creak of old floorboards, the rustle of clothing, the frantic beat of two hearts trying to catch up to each other.
He laid her down softly, kissing her forehead before sliding down her body, lips ghosting along her collarbone, down the edge of her ribcage. He tugged her shirt up, watching her eyes as he bared her slowly. No rush. No pressure.
Just awe.
"Damn," he whispered, brushing his lips across her stomach. "You're beautiful."
Tatsuki turned her face slightly, cheeks flushed redder than the setting sun. "You're just saying that…"
He leaned up and kissed her lips again, slow and deep. "No. I'm not."
As his fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts, she tensed—but only for a breath. His free hand stayed on her thigh, warm and steady, grounding her.
"I'll stop if you need me to," he said, voice lower now. "At any point. You just say the word."
Tatsuki nodded, eyes soft. "Don't stop."
Her shorts slid down, along with her underwear, and Ichigo kissed the inside of her thigh — slow, reverent. She gasped quietly when his tongue followed the same path, brushing higher, teasing closer to her core.
Then, finally, his lips found her.
Tatsuki's hand flew to his hair, fingers twisting instinctively as his tongue dipped between her folds, slow and testing at first. Her hips bucked, a surprised moan slipping out before she could stop it.
"Ichigo—!" she gasped, voice tight and breathless.
"Mmm," he hummed against her, tongue swirling gently, then flattening against her clit with practiced pressure.
She was shaking already not from fear, but from overload. No one had ever touched her like this before. Every flick of his tongue felt deliberate, meant just for her.
Schlk... slrp...
The wet sounds filled the room, obscene against the backdrop of her soft, whimpering moans. Her thighs clenched around his head, but Ichigo didn't stop. If anything, he groaned softly, hands locking around her hips as he pulled her closer, lips sealed around her sensitive nub.
"F-fuck, Ichi—" Her voice cracked, chest arching off the bed. "I... I can't—"
"You can," he said between licks, voice husky. "Let it happen."
And then he sucked harder.
Tatsuki's back arched, a cry ripping from her throat as the tension in her belly snapped. Her whole body trembled, thighs shivering, fingers still tangled in his hair as waves of heat rolled through her.
He didn't move away until she was done — until her hips fell limp against the mattress, breath heaving, skin slick with sweat and afterglow.
When he finally rose up, lips glistening, eyes heavy with heat, she reached for him.
Ichigo kissed her again, tasting her juices his lips — and held her close, her body still twitching from aftershocks.
She looked up at him, dazed, overwhelmed, and smiling. "I think… I think I stopped breathing for a second."
He chuckled softly. "Yeah. You kinda forgot how to moan quietly too."
She laughed through the blush on her cheeks, hiding her face in his neck. "Shut up."
"You know you liked it," he murmured, kissing her temple. " Are you ready for what's to come?"
She nodded in response. The time had come.
TO BE CONTINUED