The sound of skin meeting skin echoed softly through the tiled walls.
Haruki's hips moved hard, deep, driving into her again and again.
Kyouko was bent forward, hands pressed to the steamy glass, her hair damp and clinging to her back.
Her lips parted with every thrust, soft, breathy moans slipping free.
Her body trembled, overwhelmed. But her heart was steady.
Inside her mind.
Thank you, Satoshi. Thank you, Satomi.
Because of you both… I finally know what I want.
I'm not scared anymore.
I don't care about your rules. Your silence. Your neglect.
I want this man. I want his hands on my body, his breath on my neck, his penis inside me.
I want him to fuck me like this—without guilt. Without hiding.
And I want him to enjoy every second of it.
Her fingers curled against the glass as Haruki moved harder, his grip firm on her hips, his breath hot against her skin.
She moaned again—louder this time, no longer holding back.
Soon, Satomi. Soon, Satoshi…
I will be free.
