Deceptive Pleasures
By Rina Garet
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Part Three
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I can taste it on him…
My katana, on him. The flavor of cold metal on warm lips.
I know how long he's been watching me… Funny, how he thought he could do it for so long without me noticing. I've always known he was there.
Our small, erotic ritual. Now it's truly ours.
He shares this kiss with me, metallic and warm.
I don't know why I chose today to reveal my knowledge of him. Maybe it just wasn't enough any more, this solitary meeting with my blade. I wanted… another human being to share my bliss.
And he's not frightened away… not disgusted.
I let him into my mouth, grasping the hilt of the weapon for comfort, consolation. His hands are unoccupied, and slip around my waist. I let him. I could stop him any time with a flick of my wrist, with a flash of gleaming blade.
He's kissing me, but I'm in control.
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"Yohji…"
He breathes softly against my lips, parting them enough so that I can hear the sound, but not have to stop kissing him.
He's still gripping the hilt of his blade. It's as much a part of him as his arms and legs. I break away from him and let my hand slide down to his, closing over his fingers, which are closed over his weapon.
I didn't expect him to let me, but he does. He lets me touch him, he lets me touch his treasured possession. I take the fingers of his free hand in my own, and hold it as I run his fingers along the flat edge of the katana's blade. I look at his eyes the whole time, not at the blade, not at his hand.
I leave our hands on the blade, but take away my other hand, wrapping it around his waist. With a flick of his wrist, the blade is between us, flat edge resting against his chest, across it. I press in to kiss him again, and the sharp, gleaming blade lies nestled between us. If I tip my chin the wrong way, the blade will slice it open.
He's controlling me with the blade… deciding what he will and will not let me do. How he will and will not let me move. Both my hands tighten at his waist. He's slim, very slim, but not as long-limbed as I am. Altogether more compact. Graceful.
A soft shudder of breath escapes his lips, a moan without the noise. His hand reaches up and he grips the sleek blade as I kiss him. He holds it lightly at first, but when I dip my tongue into his mouth, he holds tighter, drawing droplets of blood that run down the width of the blade and stain our clothing.
I lean back and take his hand in both of mine, kissing his fingertips, kissing the blood droplets glistening there. I resist the urge to lick my lips, knowing his blood is lingering there.
I look up at him again, and his eyes are focused on my lips.
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My fingers tremble as he kisses them. Since when was he ever so gentle? Since when did him touching me ever feel so…
There is no word for it.
I didn't know it until I felt it, but once his lips touched my fingers…
My eyes are glued to his lips, ruby droplets of my own blood wavering there.
I lean forward.
I let the katana drop to the floor.
I take his face in both my hands. He can't move it without fighting me. He won't fight me. I can tell, from his eyes. I move in close, as if to kiss him, but I stop before my lips brush his.
My tongue flicks out, lapping softly at the blood on his lips. He closes his eyes and sighs, circling arms around my waist, fingers splaying out across my lower back. I run my tongue softly down his chin, catching a stray sliding droplet.
He clutches me tight and twists his chin, forcing out lips to meet again.
He crushes me up against the wall, which I enjoy far too much. His hands pin my shoulders, although I could break his grip if I wanted to. He's bruising my lips, driving fierce kisses into my mouth, sucking at my lower lip and pressing himself inside to brush my tongue with his. He kisses me roughly until my lips are sore and raw, but I don't make him stop.
And my katana lies on the floor, in the middle of the room, forgotten for the moment.
But only for a moment.
When he pulls back to breathe, and brings a palm up to caress my cheek, I throw him backward. He trips and stumbles over his own legs, and lands on his back on the floor, breathless. I stand over him, looking down into his dazed eyes, smiling a tight-lipped twisted smile.
He looks up at me and the katana is back in my hand.