A Love I Shouldn't Feel
Chapter 269: Hearts in Harmony ( 269 )

Chapter 269: Hearts in Harmony ( 269 )

"Fine!" she hissed, cheeks flushed deep pink.

Kyouko stood and let her yukata fall silently to the floor, pooling at her bare feet. The faint moonlight from the window danced along her skin.

Smooth, glowing, flawless. Highlighting every curve, every dip, every inch of that breathtaking body Haruki adored.

She leaned over him, eyes narrowed in mock anger, yet her lips trembling with need. Her fingers, soft and quick, slipped under the waistband of his pants.

"Ah—Kyouko," Haruki chuckled low, amused by the sudden shift. "What are you doing~?"

She didn’t answer, just pulled his pants down and exposing what she came for.

Still leaning close, her warm breath fanned against his ear.

"You made me this way... you riled me up and left me burning..." she whispered, voice low and trembling. "So now, you pay."

Haruki’s smirk faded the moment he felt her climb onto him, graceful, fluid, yet driven by a kind of quiet desperation that only she could carry with elegance.

Kyouko straddled his hips, her bare thighs brushing against his skin, eyes never leaving his.

She reached down between them, her fingers trembling slightly, guiding his hardened shaft toward her entrance, slow, careful.

Haruki’s breath caught.

"Kyouko..."

"Shh," she whispered, placing a finger on his lips. "You teased me... now it’s my turn."

And with a soft, breathy gasp, she sank down onto him, inch by inch.

Tight, wet, her body swallowing him completely.

Her head tilted back, hair cascading over her shoulders as a shiver ran through her spine.

Kyouko bit her lower lip, a desperate attempt to muffle the soft moan rising in her throat.

Haruki was too big.

Too wide... too long...

And she was smaller. Always had been. Compared to him, she felt delicate, stretched, taken.

But even now , after so many times, her body still trembled when he filled her like this.

She leaned forward, her palms pressing flat against his chest as she exhaled shakily.

She could feel it.

All of it.

His size. His shape.

The way her walls clung tightly to every inch of him.

The heat. The pulse. The pressure.

And deep inside her trembling core... that delicious stretch.

The one she craved.

The one only he could give.

This man.

Not just handsome.

Not just charming.

But gifted.

Blessed with a body that ruined her for anyone else.

Inside her mind.

No one else could fit like this...

No one ever has.

No one ever will.

Haruki was smiling.

Watching her.

This bold Kyouko.

The one who straddled him now, flushed and breathless.

The one who just moments ago was shyly pressing her face to his chest.

After being with her, truly being with her, he had come to know...

She wasn’t just one thing.

Sometimes, she was adorably cute, pouting when he teased her, whining softly when he pulled away.

Sometimes, spoiled, demanding his attention, his kisses, his body like a girl who finally knew what it meant to be wanted.

And sometimes, girlish, giggling, fidgeting, blushing in his arms like some high school crush come to life.

But then...

There was the real her.

The woman underneath it all.

Elegant. Serene. Graceful.

So mature and composed, it was hard to believe that wasn’t an act.

And maybe it was.

Because this short woman.

She didn’t even look forty.

She didn’t feel forty.

In truth, she looked like a dream frozen in her twenties, with skin so smooth, a figure so flawless, it made every second with her feel unreal.

And yet...

She was real.

And right now, she was riding him slowly, wrapping around him like she was made to do exactly that.

And Haruki could feel it.

The slow, delicious motion of her hips grinding against him.

Every roll of her waist made his breath hitch.

She was burying her face into his chest, probably out of shyness.

But the way her body responded...

That wasn’t shy.

She was enjoying it.

Deeply.

Or maybe...

She was just trying to muffle her moans, afraid her family might hear.

And then.

Just as he expected.

That trembling.

That sudden jerk of her thighs.

Her climax.

Haruki watched it unfold like a private masterpiece.

Kyouko rushed to grab the pillow ,resting on his chest and smashed her face into it.

Her entire body shook, tense and quivering as waves of pleasure crashed through her.

He felt her tighten around him.

She was muffling her voice, biting into the fabric to silence her moans...

But she didn’t realize.

When her hips moved.

When her soaked, overstimulated pussy slid along his thick shaft.

That lewd, wet sound echoed faintly through the quiet room.

The air carried it.

A soft, rhythmic sound that betrayed just how wet she was.

Just how deep he was inside her.

Haruki’s fingers brushed her back, slow and possessive, smiling to himself.

This was the Kyouko he loved.

The one who tried so hard to stay graceful.

To stay quiet.

Even when her body couldn’t lie.

Even when her own moans betrayed her.

Even when her climax shattered her composure, again and again.

The Kyouko he loved.

Not the loud type.

Not the vulgar, panting kind.

No—

Even when they made love, even when she climaxed hard,

she never moaned like a slut, or begged like a whore.

She wasn’t dirty.

She was honest.

Real.

The woman who trembled helplessly as waves of climax overtook her,

Yet still pressed her flushed face against the pillow,

Trying to silence herself.

That was his Kyouko.

So reserved. So composed.

Even in the height of pleasure.

Even when her body betrayed her and soaked his shaft.

Even when she couldn’t stop the trembling of her legs.

Even when her back arched, and her insides pulsed, gripping him tightly.

She still tried to hide it.

Tried to be quiet.

Tried to be proper.

Haruki’s hand gently stroked her back,

fingertips tracing the outline of her spine as she slowly relaxed.

That side of her..

the side that shivered under him, hid her face, and muffled her moans—

that was the side he loved most.

She wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

She wasn’t performing.

She was just being herself.

And that "herself"—that shy, warm, secretly needy woman—

was the most beautiful thing he’d ever known.

And when it was just the two of them—

no one else around, no walls to hear.

Kyouko didn’t press her face to the pillow.

She still moaned softly.

Never loud. Never vulgar.

Just those delicate sounds...

like warm breath exhaled between parted lips.

Sweet. Controlled.

But filled with pleasure.

She never screamed.

She never begged.

She just surrendered.

Her face lost in a haze of bliss,

Eyes fluttering closed, lips parted,

Cheeks tinted pink.

A proper, graceful woman...

lost to the waves of pleasure only he could give.

Serene.

Girlish.

Almost innocent.

And that was another side of Kyouko Haruki had come to crave.

Inside his mind, a quiet thought lingered as he watched her trembling on top of him, hips moving gently, body twitching from her climax.

I love Kyouko like this.

And that.

And every version of her.

The quiet wife.

The graceful seductress.

The shy girl who climaxed too easily.

The woman who tried so hard to be quiet but couldn’t stop shaking.

All of it.

All of her.

And the way she climaxed—

so deeply, so helplessly, so suddenly.

That, too, stirred something primal inside him.

Because Haruki knew:

A man’s greatest satisfaction in sex

isn’t his own release.

It’s seeing the woman he loves tremble from his touch.

Seeing her melt, shake, cry out in pleasure because of him.

Because he made her feel that good.

Because her body responded only to him like this.

And Kyouko...

was his ultimate reward.

( End Of Chapter )