Hiro feels it, a subtle trembling ripple through Riko's body where his hand rests on her back. It's almost imperceptible, but he catches it—a clear sign of her carefully guarded composure cracking, a flicker of weakness or perhaps, even more thrilling, a hint of surrender. He never imagined the Ice Queen, Riko, held such a hidden vulnerability, a soft spot beneath her cool exterior.
A triumphant grin spreads across his face. This is it. This is the moment. He tightens his grip, pulling her subtly but firmly closer to him, until her body is pressed against his side. "Riko-chan," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive rumble against her ear, "you're so beautiful." He lets the word linger, heavy with meaning, watching her blush deepen.
His plan is clear: to melt the Ice Queen, step by agonizing step, until she becomes his complete submission. He moves his hand, slowly, deliberately, tracing the line of her spine. His fingers brush against the thin fabric of her bra, feeling the delicate hook and eye closures, a shocking intimacy that sends a jolt through him. He follows the line of her bra strap, his touch light, possessive, moving along the curve of her back. He applies just enough pressure to make her acutely aware of his presence, of his hand on her, claiming her.
Hiro's hand remains firmly on Riko's back, a constant, warm pressure that makes her acutely aware of his presence. He feels her subtle discomfort, her rigid posture, and it only fuels his desire to break her. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur, laced with a dangerous curiosity.
"So, Riko-chan," he begins, his gaze sweeping over her figure, lingering on her C-cup breasts and the subtle curve of her thighs beneath the skirt. "You have such an incredible body. So perfectly shaped. How did you build it? Do you work out? What do you do to keep those curves so... tight?"
Riko stiffens, her eyes darting away. The questions are too personal. They strip away her carefully constructed image of an academic, a leader, and reduce her to mere physicality. "I... I simply maintain a healthy lifestyle" she replies, her voice strained, a desperate attempt to deflect. "Regular exercise, a balanced diet. Nothing out of the ordinary."
Hiro chuckles, a low, knowing sound. "Oh, I doubt that, Riko-chan. That's not 'ordinary.' That's dedication. Or perhaps... a natural gift?" His gaze drifts to her ass, subtly outlined by the skirt. "Because that kind of perfection isn't just 'healthy living.' It's a work of art, and I'm very curious about the artist." He pushes, relentless, making it impossible for her to simply brush him off.
Then, he shifts tack, his voice becoming even more insidious, probing into her past with other men. "You know, with a body like yours, I'm sure you've had plenty of guys try their luck, haven't you? Trying to... get close? To touch you?" His hand on her back subtly shifts, his fingers lightly, almost imperceptibly, tracing the line of her spine, reinforcing the very idea of unwanted contact.
Riko flinches, a visible tremor passing through her. Her face pales slightly, and her eyes show a flicker of raw vulnerability she rarely lets anyone see. "Hiro-kun, that's... that's not appropriate," she protests, trying to pull away, but his grip on her back, though light, feels impossibly firm.
"Is it not?" Hiro counters, his voice laced with a dangerous amusement. "Come on, Riko-chan. Just tell me. Because if you're my girlfriend, I need to know these things. It's about honesty, isn't it?"
Riko swallows hard, her shoulders slumping in defeat. The truth, combined with the shame of confessing it, is too much. "There have been... attempts," she murmurs, her voice barely audible, thick with a mix of humiliation and unwilling compliance. " I always pushed them away."
Hiro's smile widens, a look of profound satisfaction settling on his face. "So, no one ever got a real chance, huh?" he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with triumphant possession. "No one ever got to really touch you, Riko-chan. No one but me." He lets the words hang in the air, savoring the undeniable truth, the knowledge that he alone has breached her defenses. "Don't worry," he adds, his voice a low, seductive purr, "I'll take care of you. "
His hand, which had been resting on her lower back, now moves with a deliberate, confident pressure. He pulls her even closer, leaving no space between their bodies, pressing her sexy figure intimately against him. His fingers slide lower, abandoning the pretense of a casual touch. They move from her lower back, slowly, insistently, over the soft fabric of her skirt, settling squarely on the firmness of her hip. He feels the undeniable curve beneath his palm, the solid, supple strength of her body. His thumb, almost imperceptibly, begins to trace the very top curve of her buttocks, his touch a direct, bold claim.
"And this ..." Hiro breathes, his voice thick with unmasked lust, his gaze burning into her. "It's even more perfect than I imagined. So round, so tight. It's absolutely stunning, Riko-chan. Pure beauty."
Riko feels a profound wave of shame wash over her, scalding her from head to toe. Her face flushes a deep crimson, and her eyes, usually so sharp and defiant, are wide with a mixture of humiliation and a terrifying helplessness. "Hiro-kun," she manages to stammer, her voice barely a whisper, thick with mortification. "Please... don't..." Her protest is weak, a defeated plea that only seems to fuel his predatory satisfaction.
Hiro can't stop himself. The feel of Riko's firm hip beneath his hand, the promise of her full ass – it's a dream he's making real. He leans in closer, his face just inches from hers, his breath warm on her cheek. "You should be proud, Riko-chan," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Proud to have a boyfriend who truly admires your body, who can appreciate every incredible inch of you." His gaze drops, explicitly lingering on the curve of her buttocks, a possessive gleam in his eyes.
Then, with a daring move, his hand tightens, moving from her hip and boldly groping her ass. His fingers splay across the taut, rounded flesh, feeling the undeniable fullness of it, a sensation he's long fantasized about. Riko stiffens, a gasp catching in her throat, her eyes widening in shock and humiliation. Her body tenses, a desperate, instinctual recoil, but she's trapped, held firm by his proximity and the unspoken threat that binds her.
"This is everyone's dream, Riko-chan," he whispers, his voice thick with triumph and lust, his face still close to hers. "To feel this. To have you like this. And I'm the one who gets to. You're simply… breathtaking." His words are a potent mix of crude appreciation and undeniable claim, leaving her no room to deny the raw reality of his touch.
Hiro's hand slides from Riko's ass, moving deliberately up her back, pulling her closer still until their bodies are almost pressed together. His face, inches from hers, is a mask of determined desire. "Now, Riko-chan," he murmurs, his voice a low, commanding whisper, "a kiss." His eyes drop to her lips, a clear, unmistakable demand.
Riko flinches, her breath catching. "No, Hiro-kun," she protests, her voice tight, a desperate plea in her eyes. "I... I don't want to." Every fiber of her being screams in revulsion at the idea of his lips on hers.
Hiro's smile doesn't waver, but his grip on her back subtly tightens, a silent pressure that reminds her of her captive situation. "Kissing is perfectly normal for a couple, Riko-chan," he counters, his voice calm, almost reasoning, yet utterly cold. "If you won't even do something as simple as that, how can I possibly believe you're serious about our agreement? How can I trust you to act like a 'real girlfriend'?" He pauses, letting her internal struggle mount. "If you truly don't want to," he offers, his voice laced with a deceptive generosity, "then the agreement is cancelled. You can leave. And I'll... do as I please with the photos."
The threat hangs in the air, chilling and absolute. Sumi's vulnerable image flashes in Riko's mind. She has no choice. Her body trembles, but her decision is made. Her eyes close briefly in a silent, agonizing surrender.
"Fine," she whispers, the word barely audible, a profound admission of defeat.
A slow, triumphant smile spreads across Hiro's face, his eyes gleaming with a predatory satisfaction. He wastes no time. His free hand, which was gripping her back, slides up to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her soft hair. He pulls her forward, swiftly closing the last inch of space between them.
His lips, rough and insistent, claim hers in a brutal, unwelcome kiss. Riko's eyes fly open in shock, her body stiffening in immediate protest. She tries to pull back, to twist her head away, but his grip on her head is firm, unyielding. The pressure of his mouth is overwhelming, a stark invasion of her personal space.
Then, with a daring, explicit move, Hiro's tongue pushes against her lips, demanding entry. Riko, in her shock and inexperience, doesn't know how to resist, how to block him. His tongue slides inside, a hot, wet invasion of her mouth. It's a foreign, repulsive sensation, and she instinctively recoils, but he presses deeper, exploring the soft cavern, swirling against her own stunned tongue. She feels violated, a primal disgust churning in her stomach, utterly confused by what he is doing, by this aggressive, unwelcome intimacy.
As his tongue dominates her mouth, Hiro's other hand, which had been resting on her back, slides boldly around her side. His fingers brush against her ribs, then move upward, slowly, deliberately, until his palm settles, firm and possessive, over her left breast. He feels the immediate fullness, the incredible softness of her C-cup through the thin fabric of her blouse. It's exactly as he'd imagined, the supple weight, the yielding flesh that every guy at school fantasizes about touching.
Riko's breath hitches. The shock of his hand on her breast, combined with the aggressive invasion of her mouth, makes her entire body tremble. She pushes against his chest with her free hand, a desperate, futile attempt to create distance, to remove his groping hand. But her strength, in this moment of violation and overwhelming sensation, fails her. He holds her firm, his grip unwavering, enjoying her struggle, the delicious reality of finally having his hands on her, feeling the soft, forbidden flesh that is every man's dream.
Hiro's hand moves with practiced speed, sliding from Riko's breast, around to her back. With a swift, almost imperceptible motion, his fingers find the delicate hooks of her bra. A soft click, and the restraint is gone. He feels the immediate, subtle shift in her posture, the slight loosening of her upper body. Before she can react, he pulls her into a tight, crushing embrace, pinning her arms to her sides, effectively eliminating any chance of resistance.
Now, with her bra unstrapped and loose, his hand, previously on her back, slides around to her front. His fingers, no longer hindered by the fabric, move with an unhurried, possessive confidence. He finds her right breast, warm and yielding, and his palm cups its fullness, feeling its soft, rounded shape directly. His thumb brushes over her nipple, which immediately hardens into a tight bead against his skin. He feels the surprising weight of it, the supple give, the way her flesh molds perfectly to his hand. He squeezes gently, testing its resilience, the pliant softness of her C-cup filling his entire palm. He feels the beating of her heart against his chest, the shallow, rapid breaths she takes, and the subtle trembling that still runs through her. Every sensation, every response from her body, fuels his triumph and his escalating lust.
Riko's mind screamed in protest, a cacophony of disgust and violation, yet her body, betraying her, was a canvas of terrifying, alien sensations. Hiro's hand, full and possessive, molded to her bare breast, directly claiming the soft, yielding flesh that had always been hers alone. She felt the surprising weight of her C-cup filling his palm, the subtle give of her skin as his fingers exerted a gentle pressure. His thumb, almost instinctively, stroked across her nipple, and she felt it harden, an immediate, involuntary response that sent a wave of humiliating heat through her.
The soft friction of her blouse, now loose and crumpled between them, became an almost unbearable sensation. She felt a strange, unfamiliar tightness in her groin, a pulsating awareness of her own body that was both shocking and deeply erotic.
Her shallow, ragged breaths hitched in her throat, each one a testament to the suffocating mix of fear and this new, unwelcome arousal. Her limbs felt strangely heavy, disobedient. It was undeniably hot, a feverish flush that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. It was the heat of humiliation, of fear, and of a raw, primal response she couldn't control or explain.
Hiro's grip on Riko's breast tightens slightly, his thumb still stroking her hardened nipple. His face, inches from hers, is alight with a raw, unmasked lust. "My god, Riko-chan," he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, thick with desire. "They're even better than I dreamed. So full, so soft... just perfect. Everyone talks about how untouchable you are, but this... this is pure, raw beauty." He lowers his head slightly, his eyes burning into hers. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to feel this, to see you like this." He makes it clear that her breasts are not just admired, but desired, degraded by his possessive words.
"Hiro-kun, stop," Riko whispers, her voice barely audible, a desperate plea amidst the storm of sensations. Her face is a mask of shame and disbelief, tears stinging her eyes.
But Hiro ignores her. His free hand, quick and deliberate, moves to the buttons of her blouse. With swift, practiced movements, he unbuttons the front of her shirt, one button after another, until the delicate fabric falls open, revealing her bra-clad breasts to his eager gaze.
A cold rush of air hits her skin, but it's nothing compared to the shock of exposure. Her top is opened, her bra now providing the only meager barrier to his eyes. Hiro lets out a low, appreciative hum, his eyes devouring her C-cup breasts, encased in lace. He traces the outline of her bra with his gaze, imagining the flesh beneath. "Just as I thought," he breathes, his voice filled with a sickening triumph. "Absolutely magnificent. Every curve, every swell... you are truly breathtaking, Riko-chan. Such a sexy shape, hidden away. But not anymore." He leans in again, his words a lewd caress, stripping her of dignity even as he praises her beauty.