Worth The Risk

“You smell like Haneda,” You muttered, pressing your forehead against the bathroom mirror to avoid looking at her.

Ruka leaned against the sink, still damp from the shower, her hipbone jutting against the marble counter. She flicked water from her wrist onto your bare back—deliberate, slow—watching the droplets slide down the tattoo of a snake coiled around your spine.

“That’s what happens when I’m forced to fly commercial,” she said.

“How long until the concert?” You exhaled, voice thick with something that wasn’t quite guilty but tasted like it.

Your fingers dug into the edge of the sink, knuckles white. Your wedding band caught the light—a stupid, glaring detail she refused to acknowledge. Ruka traced your snake tattoo with her tongue, salt and chlorine from the hotel pool still clinging to your skin.

"Three days,” she lied, knowing full well it was five.

“How about you? Last night was your last stop before heading back up to Hokkaido, isn’t that right?” She bit your shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks, and you cursed through gritted teeth—the sound dissolving into a groan when she rolled her hips against your thigh.

The bathroom mirror fogged completely now, your reflections smudged into obscurity.

“Yeah,” You lied right back, your breath hitching as her teeth found your earlobe.

The truth was, your wife had texted you an hour ago—something about picking up your daughter from ballet, something painfully domestic—but your phone was face-down somewhere on the hotel room’s floor, screen cracked from where Ruka had kicked it off earlier. You could feel her nails rake down your stomach, sharp enough to sting, and he arched into it like a man starving.

“Two years of marriage and you’re still desperate for me… I thought your bachelor’s night was our last one…” She hooked her fingers into the waistband of your towel, letting it drop to the floor with a wet slap.

The air between you smelled of expensive shampoo and stolen time. Her knee pressed between your thighs, and your hips jerked forward—too eager, too predictable—before you caught yourself with a sharp inhale.

“You’re always worth the risk,” You growled, gripping her waist hard enough to bruise, your thumbs pressing into the dip above her hips where he knew she liked it rough.

Ruka laughed—sharp, breathless—as you spun her around and pinned her against the fogged-up mirror, the cold glass searing against her bare skin. She arched back into him, her ass grinding against the hard line of your cock.

“You say that,” she gasped, “but your hands are still shaking.”

Your fingers tightened, digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as you lifted her effortlessly against the mirror. The condensation streaked between you, hot skin meeting cold glass in a way that made her shudder—not from the temperature, but from the way your cock dragged against her, slick with pre-cum and the remnants of her own wetness.

“Still getting wet so easily huh?” You murmured against her neck, dragging your teeth along her pulse point.

She gasped when your fingers slid between her thighs, finding her already soaked—proof of how long she’d been thinking about you since boarding the plane. You groaned at the sensation, pressing two fingers inside her without warning, your palm grinding against her clit in rough circles.

“Fuck, you’re still so fucking tight.” Your voice was ragged, your breath hot against her ear as your fingers worked her deeper, curling just right to make her legs tremble.

Ruka bit down on her own wrist to stifle a moan, but the sound still escaped anyway—high and desperate—as you added a third finger, stretching her with a brutal, practiced precision that had her toes curling against the tile.

“Louder,” he demanded, thrusting your fingers harder, faster, until the wet slap of skin filled the steamy bathroom.

“Let me hear how much you missed this.” Your free hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back against your shoulder as your fingers pistoned into her, relentless.

Ruka’s thighs shook, her back arching off the mirror as pleasure coiled tight in her gut—too fast, too much—but she couldn’t stop the broken whimper that tore from her throat. your laugh was dark, satisfied, as he withdrew your fingers abruptly, leaving her clenching around nothing.

“Not yet,” You murmured, spinning her around to face you, her slick thighs sliding against yours as you crushed your mouths together.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongue. Ruka tasted the champagne you’ve been drinking earlier—something cheap—mixed with the bitter tang of her own arousal on your lips. You palmed her ass with both hands, lifting her effortlessly as she wrapped her legs around your waist, her back slamming against the bathroom door with a thud that rattled the frame. Your cock pressed against her, hot and insistent, and she rolled her hips just to hear him swear under your breath.

“Still such a fucking tease,” You growled, biting her collarbone hard enough to leave a mark that wouldn’t fade for days.

You didn’t bother fumbling for the extra condom on the sink—you’d stopped pretending to care about that months ago—just lined yourself up and pushed in with one brutal thrust that punched the air from her lungs. She dug her nails into your shoulders, her head tipping back against the door as you filled her completely, the stretch bordering on painful in the best possible way.

“Oh god! Y-Yes!!!” She cried out as you bottomed out inside her, her body shuddering violently around your dick.

The sheer heat of her cunt clenched around you like a vice, drawing a ragged groan from your chest. You pinned her harder against the door, one hand fisting in her hair while the other gripped her ass, fingers digging into flesh as you pulled her down with every thrust. Her legs locked around your waist, heels digging into the small of your back, urging you deeper—harder—until the door rattled with every snap of your hips.

She wasn’t quiet anymore, her moans sharp and unfiltered as you fucked her with a desperation that was close to violent. Your breath came in harsh bursts against her neck, your teeth marking her skin in possessive bites as if you could erase the memory of your wife with each bruise.

“Fucking take it, Ruka… Take it! Take it!” You growled against her neck, your hips slamming into her with bruising force as your cock pulsed deep inside her.

Hot ropes spilled into her, flooding her cunt in thick, spasming bursts that had her gasping against your shoulder—her own climax ripped from her at the sensation, her body clamping down around you in desperate, fluttering waves. You groaned through clenched teeth, your grip on her thighs tightening as he milked every last drop into her, your forehead pressed against the bathroom door as you both shuddered through the aftershocks.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by their ragged breathing and the distant hum of Tokyo’s nightlife beyond the hotel windows. Her legs slid from your waist, her bare feet hitting the tiles with unsteady grace, her thighs still slick with you. You pulled out with a wet sound that made her stomach clench, your cum already trickling down her inner thigh—proof, again, that you’d long stopped pretending this was anything but raw, reckless possession.

“Thank you, handsome… Now it’s time I head back to my girls…”