Rika Kawasaki’s gaze swept downward with an oppressive force, locking firmly onto those soft, pink lips—parted ever so slightly from tension and lack of air, glistening with a delicate, moist sheen.
A few days ago, that brief yet unforgettable sensation had left a vivid memory.
Now, like a floodgate thrown open, it surged back into her mind.
Mingled with the tangible presence before her, the desire she had long suppressed within finally burst through all barriers of reason, unable to be restrained any longer.
“Who would have thought… so you’re really not as honest as you look… putting on that innocent facade…”
Kaoru Hoshitani, his mind already growing hazy and his thoughts ruled mostly by panic, vaguely heard the woman’s voice from above—hot, mixed with mockery and awe, a hoarse sigh drifting down.
Before he could react, his precious lips—meant only for his girlfriend—were once again seized by this dangerous woman, a force outside of his relationship, who claimed them with undeniable dominance, smothering all his stifled whimpers.
Due to their obvious height difference, Rika Kawasaki, eager to draw even closer to the man’s clear, gentle scent, found that bending over so much and lowering her head like this was awkward and left her unable to exert herself or press any nearer.
So, true to her straightforward and forceful nature, Rika Kawasaki simply gripped both sides of Kaoru Hoshitani’s slender waist with her large, well-defined, powerful hands.
In an instant, her arm muscles tensed and surged with power. Like lifting a light, fragile doll, she effortlessly hoisted his entire body high off the ground until his head was finally level with hers.
Kaoru Hoshitani, who had been gritting his teeth and focusing all his remaining willpower on resisting the woman’s approach, suddenly felt a dizzying sense of weightlessness as his body was lifted.
Panic flooded his heart.
Instinctively, in his panic, he tried to open his mouth to scream—hoping to call for help or vent his terror.
But that was exactly what the other party wanted.
The instant his lips parted, the woman, sly as a hunter, seized the chance to close in, shattering what little distance remained between them.
She pressed even closer, more urgently and irresistibly, as if she meant to steal every last breath and fragment of warmth from him.
Kaoru Hoshitani was pinned by this tall, strong woman, her large hands clamped around his waist like iron pincers.
Suspended against the cold wall, his feet left the ground completely, with nothing to push against.
His pale, slender legs, exposed beneath the disheveled yukata, kicked frantically and helplessly at first, like a fish’s tail flailing out of water, panic and confusion written in every trembling motion.
But soon, in this suspended, utterly dominated state, Kaoru Hoshitani—already weak—found himself completely unable to struggle free.
After barely a minute, all his meager strength was exhausted.
At last, those beautiful, fair legs went limp, drained of resistance, drooping down in surrender and swaying weakly with each slight movement of his body, as if all bones had been removed.
The geta on his foot slipped off during the struggle, landing on the cold wooden floor with a soft “clack,” rolling aside and adding to his sense of vulnerability and helplessness.
A cold, hopeless tear, like a pearl with its string cut, silently slid from the corner of Kaoru Hoshitani’s reddened eye, leaving a glistening trail on his pale cheek before dropping onto the dusty warehouse floor, blooming into a dark little spot.
His long eyelashes, soaked with tears and stuck together, only made him look all the more fragile.
[Aina… I’m sorry… I really… really can’t escape…]
He screamed in his heart, as if doing so could somehow convey his fear and helplessness to his distant lover, seeking a sliver of impossible comfort.
—————
Kaoru Hoshitani’s once-clear thoughts were now in utter chaos, muddled and stuck like glue, unable to function at all.
All because of this woman’s relentless proximity—her body pinning him between herself and the wall, her forceful, urgent approach leaving him no room to retreat.
His brain starved of oxygen, consciousness hazy, all he could register was the burning, domineering sensation on his lips, and the air filled with the woman’s unique scent—a mix of sweat and her vivid presence, unmistakably clear.
He didn’t know how long it lasted. It felt like a century, or perhaps only a fleeting moment.
When Rika Kawasaki finally seemed to calm a little and carefully, as if handling something fragile, lowered him back down from midair to the cold floor, Kaoru Hoshitani’s body—already emptied of strength and limp as if all his bones had been removed—could no longer support his own weight.
With a heavy “thud,” his knees buckled, and he collapsed powerlessly onto the rough wooden floor, pain shooting through his knees.
His eyes were vacant, the usual clarity gone, as though his soul had been sucked out.
He stared blankly, unfocused, at the pair of strong, healthy, wheat-colored legs standing before him—Rika Kawasaki’s legs.
Their powerful contours seemed to be the only thing left in his hopeless field of vision.
It wasn’t until he felt the collar of his dark blue yukata being tugged forcefully by those calloused, irresistibly strong hands, the coarse fabric scraping against his delicate skin and sending shivers and stabs of pain, that he was jolted awake as if doused with cold water, regaining a sliver of fragile awareness and self-control.
A large swath of soft, pale skin was suddenly exposed to the cool, stifling air of the warehouse, setting off a shivering tremor over his body.
Kaoru Hoshitani dared not raise his head to meet the woman’s gaze—the kind that could pierce through any pretense, exposing the fear and helplessness deep in his soul.
That gaze was too sharp, too invasive, leaving him nowhere to hide.
“P-Please… please, Kawasaki-san… I… I already have a girlfriend… We can’t do this… really, please don’t…”
He kept his eyes lowered, staring at his trembling fingertips, his long, curled lashes fluttering violently like butterfly wings in a storm, betraying the terror and resistance inside.
In a voice barely above a whisper, choked and humble, he pleaded brokenly, hoping to awaken a shred of reason in the other’s heart.
Now, Kaoru Hoshitani felt a despair that ran even deeper than a few days ago.
At least then, facing that disgusting drunk, he’d been able to rely on his survival instincts to summon every ounce of strength, fighting back with anger and willpower.