Whitewash High: Rising Sun Ch. 04

"I'm a man, Anri. There are some things a man has to do in order to remain a man."

Nik rested both hands on the sink, head slouched, and eyes closed. Shock affected him differently. Shakes made muscles spasm lightly. Breathing got heavier. Slow intakes of air, trying to calm himself. Warm skin graced his back, and two hands hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," Anri said, voice shaky. "I'm not a fighter."

Trembling fingers massaged chest and stomach muscles. They flexed with each harsh breath. More skin rubbed together, as she had undressed in the hallway before entering the small bathroom. Willing submission, and a willing reward. Anri turned on the shower, back towards Nik.

Inside his head, reality floated. It felt like a haze. He stared at his hands. Reality beckoned. He beat a man an inch away from death, for her. Was he bewitched, or was it true love that caused caution to be thrown away? Or did he have a hero complex, thirstier than his libido?

Anri stood there, innocent and naked, letting the warm water spray. Nik gazed for a moment. Blood lust flowed through engorged veins. No one stood around to be beaten, so a different set of veins made use of the temporary, heightened condition.

Nik grabbed Anri by the arm, twirling her body into his chest. Brown eyes spoke a similar need. Chemistry so in-sync, he reached out to grab her ass at the same moment she jumped into his arms. Lips smooshed against each other, and nails dug into goosebump skin. With ease, Nik stepped into the shower, holding his beloved. Their moans echoed in the small shower, outmatching the sound of the water.

The male need to dominate matched the female need to submit. Nik's teeth dug into tender neck skin, vampiric in intensity. Feminine hands pushed the head in harder, and Anri bit her lips sensually, edging from the eroticism of the life-threatening situation.

Her back slammed against the wall, eliciting a loud moan. Heels dug into the upper echelon of his ass muscles, pushing their bodies together so not even a millimeter separated them. A large log of sexual meat rose to the occasion, rubbing against her inner thigh. Long and thick, more than once it was used like a club to initiate the hard slaps Anri lusted for daily.

"Fuck me, baby. Fuck your woman. Fuck your princess, the princess you saved," she cooed.

A wiggle of the hips and her pussy opened up at the perfect angle to accept his cockhead into her fold.

"You're my princess, Anri. I'm going to take my reward right now," he grunted, feeling her tight cunt envelop him.

The foreskin of his uncut cut pulled back and forth. It made the cockhead sensitive, and the boiling point when Anri took devilish delight on edging him. This romance grew darker and more depraved. No rose petals on the bed, silk sheets, and long, soft grinding. Each thrust hurt, ramming the womb's gates. The more it hurt, the more it made her wet. The wetter she got, the more she encouraged him to go harder. A dark, twisted cycle to normal, so-called decent society.

"Harder, harder, show me why you're my knight in shining armor," she purred, digging fingernails so deep into his shoulders it drew blood.

Pounding against the wall sent tremors into the adjacent apartment. They cared not about the noise level. Lust needed satisfaction. Love needed satisfaction. Loud knocking on the front door didn't deter the action, so consumed the pair were in physically pleasing each other.

"Your sheath feels wonderful, Anri. I'm not going to stop until I pass out," he grunted.

One hand on her ass, another wrapped around her throat, he held total dominion. Eyes ablaze, Anri kept smiling, nodding, and moaning to all the dirty words slipping from her man's mouth. She lost count of the number of orgasms. They hit hard and relentless.

X

"Who did this to you?" Ueno asked.

He stood above the hospital bed, anger stretching facial features. Flanked by two toughs, none of the hospital staff dared enter the room.

"Some gaijin bastard. I heard his girl call him Nik," the man answered, voice wracked in pain.

"That is the same name as the foreigner that interfered in your plan, Ueno-sama," Tough One said.

"First he thwarts my plan, then he nearly kills my son. This gaijin seeks death, doesn't he?"

"I've seen him on subway ads, boss. I can make a couple discreet calls to gather intel on him," Tough Two suggested.

"Do it. If he wants to die a hero's death so badly, we'll make sure he gets his wish," Ueno ordered. "But don't make a move until I give the word."

"Yes, sir," both toughs answered.

They bowed and left immediately.

"I'm thirsty, father. Can you pass me the water?" the son asked.

"Yes, of course. Here, take these. The doctors said it'd help alleviate the pain."

Ueno passed his son a cup of water, along with a couple pills.

"You know, son," Ueno spoke, sitting down. "I was having a horrible day, but you gave me the best present I could have wished for."

"What? I don't understand, father?"

Ueno smiled, fingertips touching menacingly.

"The family risked expulsion because a plan went awry. No more targeting civilian family members. But the shock on my face to hear Yamato breaking the Alliance's orders so brazenly, killing my rebellious, yet civilian, son. Who would blame me for ratcheting up my assaults on his territory?"

"But I didn't die, I'm still...gasp...cough...cough...my throat...I can't...breathe...Father, help me..."

Machine alarms sounded, alerting medical staff of the immediate situation. Ueno sat there, smiling. No remorse, or concern, about his son dying in front of his very eyes. Like a trained actor, the smile turned to horror once the first nurse stepped inside.

"Nurse, help, he suddenly complained he couldn't breathe. Help him!" Ueno screamed out frantically.

A doctor rushed in soon after. Paddles were brought out. Needles injected medicine. A hard fist came down on the man's chest in a final, last ditch effort to restart the heart. Ueno sunk in the chair, hands in his hair, looking distraught for the audience. But inside his mind, he smiled as if the golden ticket got opened up.

"No, son, please, no!" he shouted out, grabbing the doctor in frustration.

The perfect act, and the perfect setup. War.