by Amy Faye
She looked at the man who was taking her away, through the crowd. Minami could feel all eyes on the two of them. He was good-looking, with a typically American square jaw, and a beard that looked like he hadn't shaved in a day or two.
His hair was cut short, but not very short. Probably the longest he could leave it, if he was doing these fights regularly. Long hair would get caught and pulled, she knew instinctively.
But it was his eyes that drew her in the most. They burned hot and told her that if something happened right then and there, it wouldn't matter what it was, he would get revenge, and the person on the receiving end of that fury wasn't going to be walking normally for a while.
Someone came up to meet them, a dark-skinned man, and he handed Wesley a shirt, which suddenly brought into focus that he hadn't been wearing one before, just a tight pair of blue-jeans that showed off how absurdly thick his thighs were.
If Fuji had been built like a draft horse or a bull, Wesley Park was built like a thoroughbred racehorse. Thin at times, and not an ounce of fat on his frame, but wherever there needed to be muscle, he had it. As if he'd been purpose-built by God to do what he was doing right now.
His looks left her feeling something that she hadn't felt during any of the times when she'd been forced to meet with the other families, none of the marriage meetings. She tried ignoring the tingle inside her as he walked her away through the parking structure. Higa wasn't anywhere to be seen behind them, apparently having either decided she wasn't worth the effort, or having been stopped by someone.
Possibly it was both, but 4th-dan or not, she doubted that he would want to fight someone like the man who was practically dragging her out now. He pulled a set of keys out of the back pocket of his jeans, and jabbed a button. A car in front of them beeped and flashed its lights.
The American opened the driver's side door, and waited, watching her. He must not have seen the confusion on her face, or if he had, then he must not have cared.
"Get in."
The tone of his voice made her hands start moving before she knew what was happening, and lit a fire inside her that she didn't want to admit was there.
He waited a moment for her to slide inside, get herself buckled in before he started the car moving.
Then they were driving, and he drove like he fought. Cautious, but when the time came, he took his chances and he could afford to be aggressive. When he pulled up into a spot, Minami suddenly jerked out of her reverie. Watching him drive had been nicer than watching him fight, but in both cases she had been mesmerized. The way that he moved was fluid, with no wasted movements. He didn't waste time fiddling with the shifter, or adjusting the temperature, or drumming his thumbs on the wheel.
He gave the impression of moving very slowly, but every time that he did it, he was doing what needed doing at that exact instant. The only part of him that felt snappy, alive, were his eyes. Constantly scanning, darting around the road and the mirrors. As he undid his seat belt, he caught her looking.
"What?"
"Where are we?"
"My place."
"Oh." She should have refused, demanded to be taken home. But she didn't want to be rude. No, that wasn't accurate. She didn't want to be taken home, either.
She followed him out of the car and into an elevator. The elevator went up a few floors, and then he guided her to a door, inserted the key, and opened it up.
"You want something to drink?"
"Not really."
His mouth found hers in an instant, his hands wasting no time in beginning to explore her body. His fingers started at her sides, moving up and down between her ribs and her hips. She let his fingers dance across her body, enjoying the sensations he was giving her even as she knew that she shouldn't have been doing this.
His lips moved down to her neck, biting softly and sucking and, she knew, leaving bruises where she couldn't afford to have any. His body pressed against hers, his hard lines contrasting with her soft curves like they were made for each other. One of his big hands found her breasts, through the dress that she'd worn just for the date tonight. He ripped it, fabric tearing and buttons popping off.
Her breasts spilled out of the top, her bra pushed roughly up to reveal them. Wesley's hungry mouth took a plump nipple between the teeth and bit down, eliciting a moan. This was a mistake, Minami thought. The best mistake she'd ever made.
His hands started to explore lower, his fingers dancing on her belly, lower, his palm pressing into her mound. He hiked up the dress with those dancing fingers until his fingers danced on her panties, touching and rubbing and caressing the right part of her until it drove her crazy.
He took her hand and guided it right where he wanted it, right on his hard cock. It seemed almost too big for her, feeling too big even to wrap her hand all the way around it. He removed his hand from her and helped her to unzip the fly on his jeans.
His cock was hard, and far too big for her. How on earth could anything that size fit inside of her?
"Suck it," she heard Wesley growl. She looked up at him, and then slowly moved to her knees. She took a moment to look at it, and then experimentally kissed the tip.
He took a fistful of her hair, the feeling of his fist pulling at the roots a heady shot of pain that went right to her pussy in spite of herself. He used that grip to show her exactly what he wanted her to do, like she was just a puppet, a fuck-toy. As if her ability to move herself was a mistake.
Minami should have hated it, but she didn't. It was as if she was feeling normal for the first time. As if finally someone had understood her. She didn't want to be responsible for her family's future. She didn't want to have to have some guy ignore her, or worse, worry about her every whim. What she wanted, what she needed, and what Wesley understood about her, was that all she wanted was to be useful.
His cock probing her throat? That was useful. That was what she could do. She took him as deep as she could, enjoying the soft groan and the whispered 'oh fuck' from above her.
She gulped in air when he pulled her off his cock, and then as soon as she had her lungs full again he was pushing her back on, stretching her mouth to the breaking point, and shoving that incredible cock down her throat, thrusting in and out of her mouth.
"Oh, Jesus, your mouth is good."
Minami didn't want to admit how much she enjoyed the compliment. She was a good girl, she wasn't some kind of slut who just wanted to be—but she was, a voice inside her said. The voice that was causing the tingling all over her body. Minami's hand started circling around her clit, the shocks of pleasure starting to build along with the pleasure of Wesley's cock shoved down her throat.
He came without warning, his cock pressed right into the back of her mouth, deep enough to bypass her swallowing completely. She did her best to swallow it anyway and came up coughing, every inch of her skin swollen and sensitive and aroused.
"God fucking damn it, girl," he growled.
"Did I do okay?"
"Fucking Christ," he said, and turned around, his cock still half-hard and hanging out of his pants. He opened the door to the fridge and pulled out a beer, opening it with a twist. "You always that good?"
Minami didn't like how much she wanted to do it again.
Four
Wes
Wes finished the beer, barely tasting it any more. That was the problem with these light beers. Cheap, and they'd get you there, but in between there wouldn't be much to experience. Some people might have thought it was a bonus. Wesley wasn't one of them, but his budget didn't reflect his tastes. This was a rare indulgence, but a big fight was reason enough to celebrate.
He looked at the girl beside him and felt the stirrings of arousal in his belly, already wanting to take what he hadn't needed before.
"Come here," he growled. She did as she was told, sliding over across the couch. The girl was an odd one. He hadn't caught her name, and he wasn't sure he cared. He didn't have a lot of time for relationships, or inclination toward one, but the g
irl could suck the chrome off a door handle, and she fuckin' listened, which was unusual in itself.
Wes pulled the little Japanese girl in close and used one hand to rub her breasts. She squirmed, but she didn't stop him, and that was good enough for him. He let his other hand lazily explore her body again.
The Japanese had exactly the body he expected from some rich Jap asshole's arm-candy. Small, with just enough curve in the right places to make her an interesting accessory. He lifted her skirt up high enough that he could see a glimpse of her panties.
His fingers teased up her thighs, towards her core. He could feel her legs tightening around his hands, but she still didn't try to stop him. Her hips moved down to meet his hands, but still he denied her. He skittered across and back down her other leg, to the knee.
The hand on her breast, on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas. No teasing here. He pinched a nipple roughly, pulling an arch in her back and earning a gasp from her lips. Wes pulled her hair out of the way and started to kiss her neck again, her voice slowly rising in faint gasps.
His fingers traced the line back up her thighs, testing and teasing and never quite touching the place where he knew she wanted him to be. Each time he pulled away, never letting her have the pleasure she wanted. It wasn't about her pleasure, though. She'd learn that soon enough, but until then he would continue to tempt her. Continue to tease her until she was going crazy with need. Then it would be about his pleasure, and whatever she got out of it was hers to keep.
All of a sudden Wes rose to his feet, grabbing her and lifting her up. The girl in his arms was practically weightless—she didn't feel heavy in his arms at all. Then he moved her unceremoniously from the couch to the mattress on the floor in the corner and dropped her from waist-high. She let out a little yelp as she fell, one that gave him a little twinge of enjoyment.
"Shhh," he said, putting one finger over his lips. She looked about ready to start rubbing herself right in front of him, her legs splayed out wide. She was trembling in uncertainty, and he had to admit, that was about where he wanted her. Unsure of where she stood, except that she was right where he wanted her whenever it was important.
Wesley dropped to his knees, using one hand to push her back onto her back. She looked down her body at him as he freed his cock again, already hard and ready. Then he let her have the touching that she'd wanted so badly, his palm pressing into her mound, his fingers dancing through the sensitive folds of her pussy. He pushed her panties aside and let one finger explore.
She was tight, the walls of her pussy already sucking and squeezing on just one finger. It would be incredible for him, he knew, once he was inside. But it would hurt, and it wouldn't just hurt her. He added another finger, scissoring and loosening as the woman beneath him writhed at the sensations inside her.
His hand went down to her throat, constricting her breath until he could see that she was struggling to breathe, struggling even to think. Then he let up and she went still as she gasped in. He lined himself up with her and tweaked a rosy nipple between his fingers. She raised her hips to meet his thrust inside, sending himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.
She took in a sharp breath and closed her eyes as he lifted her hips up, send his cock even deeper inside her until he was sheathed inside her fully. Wesley liked the way she looked when she was getting fucked. She couldn't hide her pleasure worth a damn, but she so obviously wanted to. He used her hips as a grip and pulled himself out until only the head was still inside her, then pushed back inside with one hard, smooth motion until he was seated all the way inside her once more, then enjoyed the gasp she let in as he hit the deepest places inside her.
The feeling of her pussy squeezing down had him feeling as if he could let go any time, as if he were on the edge of oblivion the entire time. He pulled himself out once more, the walls of her pussy not wanting his cock to leave. She let out a whimper when he pushed back in, fast and hard. He did it again, slow out, enjoying the feeling of her body trying to tell him to stay deep inside.
Then he forced himself back in, slamming his cock into her deepest places and forcing his pleasure on her. She couldn't hold back at all any more, her voice coming out hard and throaty.
He started to speed up, pulling out faster and slamming in harder, every thrust bring him closer to the welcoming pleasurable abyss of orgasm. The girl beneath him let her voice out more as they moved, unable to prevent her pleasure from sounding out.
He could feel her tightening around her as an orgasm took her, his own finish not long behind. He pushed into her harder, no longer bothering with anything but the deepest strokes, keeping his cock where it would be the most likely to leave an impression, where his body knew that it would be the most likely to plant seeds that grew.
The girl below him clutched around his neck, her legs wrapping around behind him, matching each thrust with her own hips and her legs wrapped around him. As he felt orgasm overtake him, Wesley pushed himself in deep, pressing into what he knew was her womb, one last time and filled her with potent seed, enjoying the sensation that he was taking her in a way that she was never going to be able to ignore.
It was perfectly fine, he knew. These rich women, they were all on birth control, but the primal need to impregnate a woman was one that he couldn't deny his body. He let himself move a little bit, as if to fuck the cum deeper into her, enjoying the heightened sensations of moving inside her after his orgasm.
"We're going to do this again some time, don't you think?"
"Yes. Definitely." The girl below him could barely speak, could barely do anything. Her breaths were coming in short, sharp bouts that would only slow down with time.
"I didn't catch your name."
"Minami," she answered. Wes rolled off of her and laid down.
"Wesley."
Five
Minami
Minami took a deep breath and looked out the taxi window. The house wasn't as impressive as the one back in Japan had been. She knew that Father hated it. It was too Western, not big enough. Not enough Japanese sensibilities in the place, and to be fair, there weren't any Japanese sensibilities at all. It was unusual to Minami when she moved to America. Then, to her immense surprise, Father's… business had expanded operations and he'd followed them here.
She let out a breath. How was she going to get inside without alerting the entire house? Or, more specifically, without alerting her father? She tried to play it out in her mind. She could go in the front door. That seemed like a good option, but it left the risk open that she might be caught going up the stairs. Father might even be waiting for her right by the door, since Higa hadn't brought her home.
No doubt the driver had come straight back, and without her, which would have left questions of what happened. She wondered how much he knew. Very probably nothing. Then again, knowing Father and the sort of people that he associated with, it was entirely possible that their driver was more than he appeared to be.
It always seemed as if everyone in the house turned out to be not what they seemed. 'Well, he's only a low-level pick-pocket, but…' People who had done well for the family somehow, who had proved their loyalty. People who Father thought could help him more personally than they could by doing their jobs, if they could be called jobs.
She could go in the back way, but it still left the problem of going up the stairs to her room. She knew which steps creaked, but she wasn't entirely confident in her knowledge. She might miss one, or put her weight down wrong, or any number of things. Climbing in the window—what was she, fourteen?
No. No way in hell was she going to do that. She was a grown woman, and they had no right to judge her. She summoned up all of her confidence and all her certitude that her life was her own business. She wasn't a pawn in her family's maneuvering. She wasn't involved in any of that.
Minami took a breath in and held it while she opened the door. She paid the driver in cash and slipped out. The weight of needing to get inside was heavier than she
had imagined it to be in the taxi cab, but as it started to pull away, she could only feel that weight magnifying and multiplying. That wasn't an excuse for not getting inside, though. Maybe they weren't even waiting for her.
Father's business wouldn't wait for anything, and if he were busy—
She cut off the thought. It wasn't time for what-ifs. She needed to be confident and she needed to get inside, whether Father was there or not. She fished her key out of her clutch, and slipped her shoes off, holding them along with her purse and making her way up the gravel walkway. Her feet hurt on the stones, but not half as much as getting caught was going to hurt.
Minami fit the key inside the lock and twisted, opening the door quietly and getting inside. The house was dark, but she didn't see or hear any signs of her father waiting for her, which was good. She took the distance to the steps with two long, loping steps, and then started up. Skip the third step, skip the sixth. Skip the eighth. The sound of the stairs below her were amplified a hundredfold by the need for silence, and by the night around her.
Minami sucked in a breath. Nothing to worry about yet. She was alright. Everything was alright. No problems. The bedroom was just at the end of the hall, opposite her parents'. The others wouldn't sell her out, she knew. Not if she didn't get caught on her own. So she only had to worry about that single room, and she was in luck. The door was closed, which meant they wouldn't see her as she crept by. She'd just have to hope that nobody heard her, and she could manage that if she tried.
She took the hallway slow. Toes down, then heel. Very slow. Even still, she heard every little sound, the noise of her toes lightly touching the bare wooden floor. She could almost hear the sound of her body's weight shifting from one leg to the other as she stepped, a psychosomatic noise that she couldn't justify beyond the terror.
Minami let out a breath and pushed her door open just enough to go through, closed the door behind herself, flipped on the light, and screamed.
