He felt a grin spread across his face, a pure, unadulterated happiness that was so intense it almost hurt.
"Up for another round?" he whispered, his voice a low, rough rumble against her back. "I want to do this again. While we're both saying 'I love you'."
He sat up, leaning his back against the bedpost, a silent invitation.
Yuna groaned into the pillow, a sound of pure, theatrical protest.
But her body betrayed her, her hips already lifting as she turned to straddle his lap.
"Five hundred yen per 'I love you'," she muttered against his neck, but her hands were already guiding him inside her, a slick, easy slide. "And extra for eye contact."
She sank down on him slowly, her breath hitching as she took all of him.
The moonlight streaming through the window caught the tears still drying on her cheeks, turning them into glistening silver tracks.
"Start paying, big bro," she whispered, her voice raw and vulnerable.
As he began to move, she rocked her hips: a slow, deep, intimate grind that made his toes curl.
"I..." Her forehead pressed against his, a silent, desperate connection.
"...love..." Her walls fluttered around him, a soft, ecstatic pulse.
"...your..." Her nails dug into his shoulders, a sharp, possessive sting.
"...disgusting incest cock."
She collapsed against him with a shudder, burying her face in his neck. "Now say it back properly," she demanded, her voice muffled against his skin.
"I love you too, Yuna," he whispered, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn't name.
He thrust up, hugging her tight, pressing her small, warm body against his. "I love this position. We can… hug and fuck at the same time, huh?"
Yuna's breath hitched as he pulled her impossibly closer, her small frame molding perfectly against his.
"Shut up," she gasped, but her arms wrapped around his neck like a lifeline, her body a silent, eloquent contradiction to her words.
"Don't make it sound romantic when you're... ah... balls deep in your stepsister."
She rode him slowly, deliberately, her forehead pressed against his. With each downward grind, a shockwave of pure, unadulterated pleasure and a terrifying, exhilarating tenderness shot through both of them.
"I can feel everything like this," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Your heartbeat… how deep you are inside me…"
Her nails raked down his back as she picked up the pace, her hips moving with a frantic, desperate rhythm.
"Say it again," she demanded, her voice a breathless, ragged plea. "While I'm looking at you. While you're inside me."
Her eyes, wide and vulnerable and desperate and real, locked with his. "Make me believe it."
"I love you," he said, the words a raw, honest confession. "I love fucking my stepsister. I love how it feels when we make love."
He grunted, thrusting harder, deeper. "I love you, Yuna. Not just the sex, but… you."
Yuna's carefully constructed composure shattered completely.
Her head fell back with a broken moan as his words hit her with more force than any of his thrusts. "Stop!!" she choked out, but her hips slammed down harder, taking him deeper inside her. "You can't just... fuck... say that while..."
Her orgasm crashed over her without warning, her back arching as she cried out his name, not "onii-chan," not "big bro," but his actual, real name.
Her walls clamped down on him like a vise, milking him as she shuddered apart in his arms.
"I love you too, Makoto," she sobbed against his mouth, the words torn from her throat, a raw, bleeding confession.
"I love you and I hate myself for it and I..." Her voice broke as he pulsed inside her, filling her again with his seed, with his love. "...I don't want anyone else to have you."
She collapsed against his chest, a spent, trembling, beautiful mess. "There," she whispered hoarsely, her voice a raw, shredded thing. "Happy now? You broke your little stepsister."
He stayed silent, his own emotions too big, too overwhelming for words.
He just kissed her, a deep, greedy, desperate kiss, before they both collapsed onto the bed, a tangled, sweaty, sated heap.
"Tomorrow," he whispered against her hair, a new, insane idea forming in his mind, "let's go… buy some fabrics together? I want to make the costume with you this time. Instead of just buying it."
Yuna's head snapped up from his chest, her eyes wide with a genuine, unfeigned disbelief. "You? Sewing?"
She barked a sharp, wet-sounding laugh. "You'll stab yourself with the needle in five minutes."
But her fingers traced idle, thoughtful patterns over his sweaty chest.
"Fine," she muttered against his skin. "But only if I pick the fabric. And you pay."
Her teeth grazed his collarbone, a playful, possessive nip. "And if you fuck up my Ganyu cosplay…"
She trailed off, her breath hitching. For a moment, she was quiet, just the sound of her heartbeat against his.
"…We could make matching outfits," she blurted, then immediately stiffened, as if she couldn't believe she'd said it out loud. "For the con! Not... not some couple shit!"
Her cheeks flushed a brilliant, furious crimson. "I mean, if you want to look less like a creep lurking near the female cosplayers…"
Makoto chuckled, a deep, happy sound that rumbled through his chest. "Yeah, yeah, couple shit doesn't sound too bad," he teased, reveling in her flustered embarrassment.
"Maybe we can buy some matching pajamas on the way, too. The cute kind, like Pikachu or unicorns."
Yuna's entire body tensed like a coiled spring. "Are you..."
She choked on her own words, her face burning. "We are NOT wearing matching Pikachu pajamas!" Her nails dug into his chest, a sharp, painful sting. "That's… that's too…"
She trailed off, her scowl faltering, her anger melting into a reluctant, grudging acceptance. "…Unicorns are acceptable," she muttered into his collarbone.
"But only because the horn doubles as a weapon for when I inevitably have to stab you in your sleep."
Her fingers curled into his shirt, a possessive, hesitant gesture.
"And if you tell anyone we're doing this…" She lifted her head, her eyes blazing with a fierce, protective warning. "…I'll leak our incest tapes to the Genshin subreddit."
She collapsed back against him with a huff, but her leg hooked over his under the sheets, a silent, intimate anchor.
"…Stupid, fat, pervert brother," she whispered, her voice a soft, affectionate murmur against his skin.