Heat Wave

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Saitou, Tokio, Rurouni Kenshin, or any other works of fiction that have already been copyrighted by someone else.

Although, if you want to send Saitou my way the next time you see him, I’m sure I can put him to good use.

Updated for minor edits and grammatical tweaks.

*****

HEAT WAVE

Hajime Saitou stepped out into dark street, wishing for a breeze to lighten the thick, humid air. The middle of the night, and still so hot I can barely breathe. As tired as he was, it felt good to walk. He forced his stiff legs to move faster - he wanted to go home to Tokio, to bed, to a few hours of sleep in his own futon.

*****

How can anyone sleep in this heat? The damp sheets pulled against her breasts as she rolled over yet again, and her nipples hardened a little. Tokio sighed in irritation. She thought of Hajime, sitting at his desk at the police station, ignoring the beads of sweat tickling between his shoulder blades while he pored over the day’s reports. He’s been working so much lately. If he were here now, I’d just be keeping him awake. But...

It was selfish, but she wished he were here anyway.

She’d been like this for more than a week, ever since the heat wave had begun: too restless to do more than lie awake each night, first waiting for her husband to come home, and then, once he stumbled into bed, listening to the sound of his deep, even breathing. Her skin felt prickly, and the slightest touch of anything - her nightclothes, the sheets, his breath against her shoulder - made her want to squirm. She felt lazy and frustrated, all at the same time, and for some reason she didn't understand, her breasts ached.

Tokio crawled off their futon to the other side of the room, and knelt in front of the low table with the wash basin. Dipping a small cloth into the basin – the water is almost as warm as I am – she squeezed a small trickle of water onto the back of her neck. She still felt sticky and light-headed.

Tokio dunked the cloth again, then smoothed it over her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach. A few droplets fell on her thighs, and she shivered. Rewetting the cloth once more, she trailed it up each leg, from knee to the crease of her hip. The sensation reminded her of their wedding night, the first time she’d ever been naked in front of a man. In this room, on the futon she’d just abandoned, Hajime had knelt beside her and kissed her, one hand on the back of her neck, the other softly stroking her thighs.

She sighed again, more deeply this time, letting her hands rest in her lap. She had no right to complain. I’m not exactly complaining, am I? She wiggled her fingers, smiling as they brushed up against the dark triangle of fluff between her legs. He probably won’t be home for at least an hour...

*****

Saitou carefully slid the bedroom door shut behind him. She’s probably been asleep for hours, he mused, slipping out of his clothes silently, a skill he’d developed after years of coming home at ridiculous hours of the morning. There was a moan from behind him, almost too quiet to hear. Saitou turned toward the futon, freezing for a moment while his brain struggled to accept what his eyes were seeing: his demure little Tokio sprawled across the tangled sheets, one arm thrown across her face, the other hand moving slowly between her splayed legs. Another faint moan, and her hips shifted to the left.

Delightful.

He couldn’t help but grin. She obviously hadn’t heard him come in. He crept toward the futon, settling next to her without making a sound.

*****

She was nearly panting with the heat, but it didn’t matter. Tokio arched her back, spreading her sweat-slick thighs farther apart. Her left leg bumped into something. She yelped, involuntarily throwing her arms up before her in panic, and large hands closed around her wrists, pushing them over head. She opened her eyes wide, straining to see her attacker’s face. The pale moonlight from the window behind him was too dim for her to make out his features. How did he get into the house without my hearing? I thought I locked the door... I should have checked it again before I went to bed...

Her attacker leaned closer, and she struggled to breathe against the surge of fear that constricted her chest. He placed his lips against her ear, and whispered, "Having a good dream, dear?"

"Hajime!" She felt her face flush, her initial flash of shame turning to fury. "You scared me!"

"Did I?" She felt his tongue flick out, lick quickly along the rim of her ear. "How rude of me." He shifted his grip on her right hand, placed it back down so that her fingertips were pressed against the swollen folds of her vulva. "Please, continue."

Tokio flushed, horrified both by his suggestion and the flare of nervous excitement that shot up her spine when he'd made it. "What?"

He patted her free hand gently. "Go a."
."

Tokio heard a choking sound, and realized that it was coming from her own throat.

"I..."

His lips moved lower, and he began to suck slowly and rhythmically on her earlobe.

"Hajime…" She turned her head away from him, but he followed. The pulsing sensation in her earlobe was expanding outward, encompassing her neck, her breasts, her belly, her whole body. "No."

"No?" He kissed the side of her neck, moving down to her collarbone. His free hand found one of her nipples, and tugged lightly. "No?"

*****

He tugged at her nipple again, more insistent this time. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she gasped.

He smirked, and rolled the nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger. "Yes, this?" Sliding his hand to cover her entire breast. "Or yes, you’re sure?"

"Yes." Tokio moved her hand away from her pubic mound, her expression somewhere between
guilty and defiant in the murky moonlight that splayed across her face. "I’m sure."

"All right." He released his grip on her other hand and rolled off of the futon. He walked slowly across the room to the far corner, and opened the ornately-carved chest that rested there.

"What are you...?"

He began to rummage through the box. A set of jade combs, a small mirror, a pair of scissors… There. He pulled a long silk hair ribbon from the chest and closed it again, then returned to the futon.

"Hajime?"

He recaptured her hands and deftly tied them together with the ribbon.

"Hajime!"

He could almost feel the flames of indignation roiling off of her. I wonder if she knows how cute she looks when she’s mad. "Yes, dear?"

"What are you doing? Untie me!"

She struggled against the ribbon, but the knots held. He raked his frtiprtips down her sides and over her hips, just enough pressure to tickle. She wiggled away from his hand, hampered by her bound hands. Her breasts bounced slightly with the movement, and he felt himself harden in response.

"Hajime!"

"Well, I did give you a chance to do this your way, Tokio." He graced her with his sweetest smile. "Since you declined... we’re going to do it my way."

*****

"Your way?" Tokio squeaked as he bent forward, his mouth hovering between her legs. A few wayward strands of his hair fell forward, tickling her stomach. Then he swirled his tongue around the nub of her clitoris, and a dizzy wave of pleasure pushed the air out of her lungs in a rush. She thrust her hips toward him, legs tensing against the tingling sensation that arced out from the center of her body.

He moaned into her, lips and tongue working slowly. She reached down instinctively, stopped when she realized her hands were still tied together. She rested them awkwardly over her stomach, knuckles brushing against the top of his head. "Let me go?"

Without stopping the languid movements of his tongue, he slid one long, tapered finger inside her. Her breathing quickened, coming in short pants. "Hajime..."

He added a second finger and she couldn’t open her legs any farther apart, but she tried anyway. "Please..."

He sat up and laid one hand on top of hers. In the dim light, she could see that he was hard, but his face was expressionless. "Do you want to stop?"

Tokio shook her head.

"What was that?"

She swallowed with difficulty, her mouth suddenly dry. "Don’t stop." She held her hands up to him, and he loosened the ribbon, let it fall onto her stomach in a soft heap. Lifting her hands to his lips, he kissed the center of her palms, first one and then the other. Then he placed both of her hands firmly against her vulva.

"If you want to finish, you’re going to have to do it yourself."

*****

She stared up at him in silence, eyes wide and lips parted slightly. She was still breathing heavily, and her breasts were heaving slightly with each inhalation. Confusion, outrage, embarrassment, excitement. We’ve never played this game before, have we, dear?

Outrage won, and her eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms over her stomach. "You’re an arrogant bastard."

"Yes," he agreed, reaching down to flick his thumb across one of her nipples, dark and firm. She was so aroused, she probably didn’t realize that her body had moved toward his touch as soon as his hand made contact with her breast. "But I’m the arrogant bastard who decides if you get to come tonight."

Tokio huffed indignantly, and closed her eyes. He pulled her up into a sitting position, covering her mouth with his own. Rubbing his palms up and down her back in steady, even strokes, he kissed her until her lips parted, until she let him suck at her upper lip, until her tongue wandered tentatively into his mouth.

He broke the kiss. "What will it be, my little wanton?" She shuddered in his arms, but made no answer. He laid her back down on the futon, pushed her legs apart, brushed the knuckles of one hand gently against her wetness. "Let me help you decide."

He entered her slowly, grinding his teeth against the desire to plunge in deeply, roughly. Her hips rose up to meet his, and she moaned loudly, in spite of her embarrassment.

He lifted himself up to make room between them, and once more placed her hand between her legs. He pulled back slowly, withdrawing a little at a time, and then thrust in again, almost lazily.

Tokio forced herself to meet his gaze. "Why?"

He moved as slowly as he could manage, drawing a gfromfrom her. "I want to watch you." She said nothing, and he nudged into her again, another small assault on her hesitance. "Tokio," he growled, his voice growing rough with the need to bury all of himself inside her.

Closing her eyes, she pushed her hips toward him, wrapping her legs around his sides, and began to pleasure herself. He groaned as she rocked against him, clenching and releasing. She was hot and wet and she writhed around him, pulling him deeper inside. Digging his knees into the futon for leverage, he thrust into her more quickly, matching her rhythm.

She cried out suddenly, and he lost control as she convulsed around him in waves, her body shuddering beneath him. "Tokio." He exploded into her softness, awareness of everything else fading. The boiling pleasure of orgasm faded to a soft buzzing sensation that seeped through his muscles and into his bones. She lay still beneath him, limp, her cheeks flushed and a few wisps of hair clinging damply to her forehead. Her swollen lips curved gently in small, satisfied smile. He kissed the tip of her nose. "You're so beautiful when you come."

*****

She came to awareness slowly, enjoying the delightfully cool breeze that skimmed over her shoulders and breasts. I’m sticky, she thought dreamily. And I smell like...Oh! The memory returned to her all at once, and she bolted up right, unconsciously clutching the sheet to her chest. I can’t believe I did that!

Hajime stirred next to her, opened his eyes halfway and looked up at her sleepily. "You’re hogging the covers, wife."

Every inch of her skin burning with embarrassment, Tokio laid back down next to her husband. I don’t even want to know what he thinks of me now...

He rolled over onto his side, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, nestling her into the curve of his body. "Feel free to surprise me like that anytime."

She lay there quietly for a moment. "You’re not...?"

"Shocked to discover what a pervert my sweet little wife turned out to be?" He snuggled closer, rubbing the tops of his thighs against the back of her legs. "Absolutely." He reached around to cup her breast, and laid a line of kisses down the back of her neck. "Let me show you exactly how upset I am with you."

Tokio giggled, wriggling her bottom against his growing erection. "How upset are you?"

He pushed her flat and straddled her, ignoring her token yelp of protest. He grinned wickedly.

"Very, very upset."