Rabbit Season

The thief didn't even see her coming.

"LUNA FALL!"

Rumi’s boots slamming straight into the bastard's chest. The satisfying crack of impact echoed through the alley as the guy went flying backward into a dumpster, his stolen loot scattering across the pavement. The metallic clang of his body hitting steel was music to her ears.

"That's what you get for thinking you could outrun ME!" she called out, landing in a crouch before straightening up with a wild grin. Her white hair had gotten a little messed up during the chase, but she just ran her fingers through it, shaking it back into place. "Seriously, dude, you picked the worst possible day to—"

She paused, red eyes narrowing as she waited for the usual whimpering or begging or cursing that came after she laid someone out. When nothing came, she cocked her head and hopped over to get a better look at the villain.

Out cold.

"Huh." Rumi nudged him with her boot. Nothing. She gave him another kick, a bit harder this time, her ears twitching with annoyance.

Still nothing.

"Seriously? One hit?" She clicked her tongue in disappointment. "What a letdown. I was just getting warmed up!"

She pulled out a zip-tie from her belt, roughly yanking the thief's arms behind his back before securing them. With a grunt that was more frustration than anything else, she dragged his limp body over to a nearby streetlight post and looped another tie through the first, leaving him slumped there like a sad sack of potatoes.

"Someone'll find you eventually," she muttered, already turning away and cracking her knuckles. The last thing she needed was to stick around and get bogged down by fans. She had way more ass to kick today, and this pathetic warm-up barely counted.

With a powerful leap, Rumi launched herself onto a nearby balcony, her powerful legs propelling her three stories up without breaking a sweat. She used it as a springboard to vault onto the rooftop, landing smoothly. Her ears twitched as she scanned the cityscape below.

Rooftops were always the best vantage point, gave her the lay of the land and kept the annoying crowds at bay. 

But the moment she straightened up, she FELT it.

Heat. Intense, annoying heat that seemed to press against her skin from all directions, making her leotard feel like it was trying to suffocate her.

"The hell?" Rumi tugged at the collar of her costume, trying to cool off. The material suddenly felt too tight, too restrictive, like it was clinging to every inch of her body. She glanced up, squinting against the brightness and shielding her eyes with one hand. There were clouds scattered across the sky; it wasn't even supposed to be a sunny day. So why did it feel like she was standing on a damn hotplate?

A bead of sweat rolled down her temple, and she swiped it away irritably.

"Ugh, stupid sun."

Her ears suddenly perked up, swiveling toward a commotion several blocks away. Shouting, glass breaking, maybe some crashing all of that translate into good time, exactly what she needed. Her mood instantly lifted as adrenaline surged through her veins, washing away the uncomfortable moment.

"Finally! Now we're talking!"

Rumi took off running across the rooftops, leaping the gaps between buildings closing in to the commotion.

She landed in the middle of the street with a heavy thud, fists raised and ready, a fierce grin splitting her face.

"Alright, who wants some—"

And the words died in her throat.

Ryukyu stood calmly in the center of the scene, several thugs lay zip-tied and groaning in a neat pile behind her. The dragon hero was already brushing off her hands, clearly finished with whatever scuffle had been happening. There wasn't even any significant property damage—just some broken glass and an overturned cart.

"Oh, Mirko! I didn't expect to see you in this area," Ryuko said pleasantly, as if she hadn't just stolen Rumi's action. "I was just passing through and happened upon this. Perfect timing, really."

That carefree response made something hot and vicious surge through Mirko's chest, different from the uncomfortable heat from moments ago.Coiling in her gut like a living thing. Before she could stop herself, her leg lashed out, her reinforced boot connecting with a nearby lamppost with a resounding CLANG. 

The metal bent under the force, tilting at an awkward angle as the light flickered and died, sparks raining down onto the pavement.

"Seriously?!" Rumi snarled at nothing in particular, breathing hard through clenched teeth. Her hands were shaking.

Ryuko's expression shifted from pleasant surprise to concern, her smile fading. "Mirko? Are you alright? You seem... unusually agitated."

"I'm fine," Rumi snapped. Ryuko didn't deserve that so she forced herself down. "Just... it's been a slow day. Real slow. And hot. Really damn hot."

Her fellow pro-hero crossed her arms. "You know, Mirko, if you're feeling overwhelmed with work, there's no shame in taking a day off. Even heroes need rest—"

Rumi's ears flattened against her head as Ryuko's voice faded into an incomprehensible buzz. She tried to focus, tried to pay attention to whatever was being said, but her mind kept sliding away, distracted by the growing discomfort radiating through her body.

That dumb heat was getting worse.

Much worse.

She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and that's when she felt it—an uncomfortable pressure building low in her abdomen, a familiar throbbing sensation that made her unconsciously rub her thighs together. The friction didn't help. If anything, it made everything more noticeable, more there.

And that’s when Rumi's eyes widened as realization came crashing down.

Oh no.

Oh, hell no.

Not now. Not today. Not this early—it was supposed to be another week at least!

"—and I really think you should consider—"

"Gotta go!" Mirko blurted out, cutting Ryuko off mid-sentence. She didn't even look at the dragon heroine before launching herself onto the nearest building, her powerful legs carrying her up and away with desperate speed.

"Wait, Mirko! Are you sure you're—"

But Rumi was already gone, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with single-minded determination. If anything, the movement made her more aware of every uncomfortable sensation, every throb, every pulse of irritation that seemed to sync with her heartbeat.

Stupid body. Stupid quirk. Stupid rabbit biology bullshit.

She pushed herself faster, harder, her boots cracking tiles and bending metal railings as she vaulted across the cityscape. People below probably saw nothing more than a white blur streaking overhead, and that was exactly how she wanted it.

The district she needed wasn't far—maybe ten minutes if she really pushed it. Ten minutes of feeling like every nerve in her body was firing at once, ten minutes of clenching her jaw so hard her teeth ached, ten minutes of pretending she wasn't about to lose her goddamn mind.

Today, she had exactly one destination in mind, and nothing—nothing—was going to stop her from getting there.

The only guy who could help her deal with this bullshit.

The only person who wouldn't ask stupid questions or give her pitying looks or try to coddle her like she was some fragile little thing that needed protecting.

The only one who understood that sometimes, the best way to deal with her particular brand of chaos was to meet it head-on with equal force.

She landed on a familiar rooftop, her chest heaving not from exertion but from the effort of keeping herself together. Her hands were trembling again, curled into fists. The throbbing in her abdomen hadn't lessened—if anything, it had gotten worse, accompanied by a restless energy that made her want to hit something, anything, just to make it stop.

Rumi dropped into the alley below, landing in a crouch before straightening up and stalking toward the entrance she knew by heart.

Please be there. Please be there. Please be—

The door opened before she could reach for the handle, and there he stood, occupying the doorway with an easy presence that caused some of the tension in her shoulders to loosen.

"You're early."

Kenji didn't look surprised to see her. He never did. Instead, he propped one shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His usual lazy smile was in place.

"Got a problem with that?!"

He just shrugged. "Not at all. Just means I'll have to move up my schedule." His gaze swept over her, and his smile turned into a grin when he saw her rubbing her thighs harder than before. "Wow, you're a mess."

"Fuck you."

"That's the idea." He stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in with his head. "After you."

She tried to cross the door but the sly bastard took the chance to give her sexy ass a loud slap before groping it roughly.

"Ah!" She clapped her hands over her mouth.

And she shot a glare at his handsome face.

He just laughed, passing a hand through his hair, and kicked the door shut behind him.

"So," he started, turning to face her fully. "How bad is it this time?"

Rumi's ears flattened against her head, biting her lower lip. As she didn’t want to say something this embarrassing.

It was really bad, it always had been bad.

However, she remained silent and looked down, staring at her feet as her face was burning more than before.

In that moment of distraction he reached out and gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his black eyes. Her breath hitched as she became hyper aware how hard her heart was pounding against her chest.

His thumb brushed over her lower lip, a slow, tender touch that made her shudder.

"Use your words, Rumi."

The sound of her real name coming from him in that low, calm tone was almost enough to make her come on the spot. Heat pooled between her thighs, and she had to physically restrain herself from jumping him on the spot and grind herself into exhaustion.

But her traitorous mouth trapped his thumb between her lips, sucking on the digit with a need she couldn't hide, her tongue swirling around it as if it were the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted. Her red eyes locked with his in a wordless invitation.

Invitation that he took and expertly inserted another finger and started playing with her tongue causing her to let out a whimper, tickling and playing with her tongue.

He slowly pulled his fingers from her mouth, a thin line of saliva connecting her lips to his skin for a moment before breaking.

Before she could say or do something she was swept off her feet.

"Ah!" she gasped as she found herself in his arms, one arm hooked behind her back and the other under her knees. Her hands instinctively went to his shoulders, digging into the fabric of his shirt as she buried her face on his neck taking in as much of his scent causing her to let out a shuddering breath.

His scent was strong, masculine, and uniquely his. She didn't know how to describe it but all that mattered was that it made her lower lips throb harder and pulse, making her head dizzy.

So dizzy that soon she was all over his face, shamelessly kissing and licking every inch of her handsome man's face as if she was a dog.

Her instinctive actions made him chuckle as his pace quickened, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway and into the living room before he unceremoniously dropped her onto the large, plush couch. She bounced slightly, her white hair fanning out around her head, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

Before she could even protest the sudden loss of contact, he was on her. His hands bracketed her head, caging her in as he hovered above, his black eyes burning with an intensity that made her feel exposed, small, and more turned on than she'd ever been in her life.

And the hot liquid falling from her quim and dampening her suit was more proof of that.

"Like this?" He whispered, his breath hot against her perked up ear as he grinded himself against her, the hard line of his cock pressing insistently against her core through their clothes.

"Ah... more..." she managed to choke out.

"More?"

She tried to answer, but the only sound that escaped was a strangled moan as he claimed her lips in a brutal, possessive kiss. This wasn't gentle or teasing. This was rough. His tongue dominated hers, exploring every inch of her mouth with a hunger that mirrored her desperation to quench her thirsty womb.

His hands weren't idle either. One slid down her body, gripping her hip and pulling her flush against him while the other tangled in her white hair, fisting the strands and tilting her head to deepen the kiss. The slight sting of pain on her scalp only heightened the pleasure, a sharp, delicious counterpoint to the throbbing ache between her legs.

Her own hands were also busy, tearing at his shirt, her nails—she hadn't even realized she took off her gloves—scraping against his skin. She wanted to feel him, all of him, skin against skin, no barriers between them. She wanted to sink her teeth into his shoulder, provoking him to go further with her.

He broke the kiss, both of them panting for breath. A string of saliva connected their lips.

"Needy little thing, aren't you?"

Her pride wanted to snarl, to bite back, but all that came out from her was a whimper as her hips bucked up, trying to entice him to stretch her extremely hot insides like he always had been doing. And hopefully get her womb finally filled to the brim.

"You know, I was just about to make some coffee." He said conversationally as if he wasn't grinding a massive hard-on against her dripping core. "But I guess this is a better way to start the morning."

"D-Don't... don't tease," she managed to gasp out, her ears flattening against her head once more.

"Who's teasing?" With a swift, smooth motion, he pulled her, so she was straddling him while he was seated on the couch, her knees on either side of his legs His hands rested on her ass, kneading the firm flesh through her costume. "Let's see what we're working with here."

And just like that, he found the seam of her leotard and tore.

RIIIIP!

The sound was obscene, loud in the quiet room, and it made her gasp. The cool air hit her now exposed skin, and she shivered, as she was freezing out of the sudden, like an ice-cold shower making her realize she had been sweating A LOT. But she didn't have to worry about it for long because soon the rough fabric of his jeans and the hot, hard line of his cock pressed directly against her now bare, soaked pussy.

"Much better," he growled, his hands gripping her hips and holding her in place as he rolled his own hips upward. The friction was exquisite, delicious, torture, and she threw her head back with a choked moan.

She needed more. She needed all of it. 

Now.

With a desperate whine, she pushed at his shoulders, trying to get him to lie down, to take control. But he held firm, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her struggle, watched the desperate need written all over her face.

"Patience," he murmured, one hand leaving her hip to trace the seam of her ruined suit, teasing the sensitive skin at the edge. "We're just getting started."

That is when he spun her around making her yelp and his muscular arm wrapped around her stomach and his legs spread hers wide open.

Only for his free hand brushed her quivering lower lips.

"A-aah," Rumi moaned, her head falling back against his shoulder as he parted her folds and found her swollen sensitive button with ease.

"So wet," he whispered against her ear, his breath hot and sending shivers down her spine. "And so swollen. You really are desperate for it, aren't you?"

She couldn't form words, could only manage another pathetic whimper as he circled the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, more pressure, more of him.

"Look at you," he continued, his voice a low, seductive rumble that vibrated through her entire body. "The number five pro hero, so powerful, so in control... and yet here you are, dripping all over my couch because you can't control yourself."

The humiliation should have stung, but it only fueled the fire burning within her, making her ache with a need so profound it was almost painful. She was completely at his mercy, and the thought was both terrifying and exhilarating, almost squirting a little.

His fingers slid lower, gathering her slickness before two of them plunged inside her without warning. She cried out, as he pumped them in and out, curling them just right to hit that spot deep inside that made her see stars and saliva falling from her mouth.

"Greedy. But they're not what you really want, are they?" he murmured, scissoring them to stretch her, he was preparing her tunnel so he could enjoy her.

He punctuated the question with a deep thrust, his thumb brushing against her clit, and she shattered.

Her vision went white, a choked scream tearing from her throat as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Her muscles clenched, her entire body seizing as she came hard around his fingers, her juices flooding his hand. Yet that fire didn’t wane in the slightest.

But he didn't stop. He kept playing with her with his fingers, drawing out her orgasm until she was a trembling, whimpering mess, completely overwhelmed as she couldn’t focus.

"Kenji... please..." she begged, her pride forgotten.

"Please what?" he asked, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to her lips.

Without hesitation, she opened her mouth and cleaned his fingers with her tongue, her red eyes locked on those drenched fingers as she lapped up her own arousal. The taste was musky, slightly sweet, and utterly intoxicating.

"Good girl," he praised, and the words sent another jolt of pleasure straight to her core. He gently pushed her forward, off his lap and onto her hands and knees on the couch. "Now, let's get you out of this thing, shall we?"

His hands tugged at the remnants of her leotard, peeling the damp, clinging fabric from her sweat-slicked skin. With a few more decisive rips, her costume was gone, leaving her almost bare before him as she didn’t take off her boots.

"So perfect," he murmured, his hands roaming over her body, tracing the curves of her hips, the dip of her waist, the muscles of her back. "All mine."

She arched into his touch, a silent plea for more. The throbbing in her core had returned, stronger than ever, a desperate ache that only he could soothe.

However, he just moved to be in front of her, practically pushing his crotch to her face. "You know what to do."

She didn't respond as she stuck out her tongue to get a hold of the zipper and bite it before pulling it down, making her lover chuckle, running his fingers through her hair as his pants fell leaving him only in his underwear.

She didn't hesitate to push her face against his crotch and inhaled. Hard.

His raw, intoxicating manly scent made her head spin like always.

And with that, she started planting hot wet kisses against the damp underwear which only happened because of her saliva. She was THAT desperate to taste it again.

"What a greedy girl." He murmured and pulled away, making her whine.

"Open up."

Rumi didn't need to be told twice. She opened her mouth wide as he pulled down the waistband of his underwear, freeing his thick, heavy shaft. It sprang forward, bobbing in front of her face, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.

Without a second thought, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth.

He let out a low groan as her lips wrapped around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling around the tip, tasting the salty-sweet essence. She took him deeper, her jaw stretching to accommodate his impressive girth that was hardening to full mast.

Rumi moaned around him, the vibrations making him twitch in her mouth. She relaxed her throat, taking him in until her nose brushed against the coarse hair at the base of his shaft.

The needy heroine started to move, her head bobbing up and down, her tongue working along the underside of his member. Relishing in the manly taste that made her lower lips become a waterfall.

The sounds of her gagging, of her moaning, of the wet, sloppy sounds of her mouth working him filled the room, a symphony of debauchery that spurred her to go more and more.

However, his hand pushed her away, getting a growl in protest and started hollowing her cheek as to get a better grip on him all but let go of that yummy dick, she wanted to get drunk on his taste.

But he had other ideas.

He pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to the head. So she stuck out of her tongue trying to reach it but his hand kept her inches away much to her frustration. Although she wasn't restrained something in her had her in place and not resisting any of his command.

Soon enough, she saw why she stopped her.

A condom, dangling in front of her.

Her heart sank, and her burning womb protested as it would not be filled to the brim it would not receive that hot spunk she oh so desired so much.

"You know what to do."

The needy rabbit girl knew exactly what to do, grabbing the condom with her lips, she then leaned forward pressing the little circle against the tip of his head before using her teeth to carefully roll it down slowly, her eyes locked on him the entire time. The small latex barrier felt like a personal insult, a cruel tease, but she pushed the thought away.

She made sure it was on properly, her tongue tracing the outline through the thin latex, her breath hot and heavy against the sensitive skin beneath. She was putting on a show, and she knew it.

His hands tangled in her hair, tightening their grip as he forced her head back, cutting off her ministrations.

"Turn around," he commanded. "Ass up, face down."

The command sent a shiver down her spine. She obeyed without hesitation, flipping over and presenting herself to him, her chest pressing against the plush cushions of the couch, her arms extended forward to grip the armrest.

He was behind her in an instant, his hands gripping her hips, positioning her just the way he wanted. Her knees were spread wide, her back arched, her painfully empty and dripping pussy on full display.

"Look at you," he growled, one hand leaving her hip to deliver a sharp smack to her ass cheek.

She yelped, the stinging pain mingling with the intense pleasure, making her even wetter.

"All ready for me," he continued, his fingers dipping between her folds, gathering her slickness. "So fucking ready."

"Please," she begged, her voice a ragged whisper. "Please, Kenji. I need it."

"I know you do, my little bunny." He lined himself up with her entrance, the head of his covered cock nudging against her sensitive folds. "I know exactly what you need."

And with that, he slammed into her.

"OH YESSSSSSSSSSS!" Mirko hissed in sheer ecstasy, her tongue lolling out.

There was no gentle entry. Yet this was what she needed. A complete invasion. A brutal claim. The force of it pushed her forward, her face pressing into the couch cushions as he buried himself to the hilt in one swift, powerful thrust.

He gave her no time to adjust, no moment to catch her breath. He set a punishing pace from the very beginning, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a raw, primal rhythm that echoed her thundering heartbeat.

One of his hands tangled in her hair and her long ears, pulling her head back, forcing her to arch her spine even more.

"MORE!" she cried out, her fingers digging into the fabric of the couch as he drove into her relentlessly. "MORE! Don't stop!"

She couldn't think after that, couldn't breathe, could only feel. The exquisite stretch, the friction of the latex moving against her sensitive walls, the head of his cock battering her cervix with each powerful thrust. The coil of pleasure in her stomach tightened, hot and heavy and ready to snap.

His other hand snaked around her body, finding her clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles.

"Come for me, Rumi." 

His command was all it took. The coil in her stomach snapped, and she came with a scream, her walls clamping down on him like a vice, her entire body shaking as waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure crashed over her. Her vision blurred, her ears ringing, her world narrowing to the feeling of him inside her, the intensity of her orgasm squeezing her lungs.

But he wasn't done with her yet. He kept fucking her through her orgasm, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate, as if chasing his own release. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back, his breath hot against her ear.

His breath was like fuel on a fire, and she felt another orgasm building, a slow, intense wave of pleasure that promised to be even more powerful than the last. His hips slowed, grinding into her, designed to draw out every bit of sensation.

"Kenji," she whimpered, her voice a broken, breathy thing. "Kenji, please..."

"Please what?" he asked, his teeth nipping at her earlobe.

"Please... more… need more..."

He let out a short laugh. "Since I'm a generous man..."

He straightened up, his hands gripping her hips with bruising force, and he began to move again, his pace punishing and relentless. The sound of their bodies coming together, the wet, sloppy sounds of her arousal, the grunts and groans escaping their lips the best sounds that excited her even more.

She could feel the latex barrier between them, a thin, frustrating layer that kept her from feeling him completely. But even so, it was enough. It was more than enough. The sheer size of him, the way he filled her, the way he knew exactly how to move to hit all the right spots in her needy walls.

She was completely lost to it, a writhing, moaning mess of need and desire. Her pride, her power, her identity as the Number Five Hero—it all melted away, leaving only this raw, primal need to be fucked until she couldn't remember her own name.

His hands left her hips, moving to grip her shoulders, using them for leverage to pull her back onto him, meeting his every thrust. The new angle had him hitting deeper, a dull ache that was quickly becoming a sharp, exquisite pleasure.

"Kenji... Kenji..." she chanted his name like a mantra, the only word she could remember in her cock-drunk mind.

And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his body stilling as he came with a guttural groan. She could feel the heat of his release, even through the condom, it was still really hot and expanding her insides, and it triggered her own but she only gritted her teeth as her eyes rolled back.

A full-body experience that left her trembling.

Yet, as expected it wasn't enough.

Slowly, he pulled out of her, the loss of him making her whine softly. And everything that came to mind was to entice him again, rolling to her back and extending her arms and spreading her legs.

"Gimmie Gimmie!"

Never in her life she thought she would ever show that kind of sight, but it felt just right to show it to him and only him.

"Round two already?" he teased, making quick work of the used condom, tying it off and tossing it aside before grabbing another from the nearby box she hadn't noticed moments ago to put another. "You're insatiable."

"Need." she panted, her hands roaming over her own body, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, trying to stave off the growing ache and heat. "Please, need."

"You won't have to."

He moved over her, settling between her spread legs, his already hardening cock brushing against her slick folds. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss that left her breathless. Naturally she wrapped her arms around him and her legs locking him in place just in time as he penetrated her again.

He sank into her inch by inch, letting her feel every ridge, every vein, every glorious detail of him through the frustratingly thin barrier.

"Yesssss," she hissed, breaking the kiss to throw her head back.

He started to move, a slow, deep rhythm that was both torturous and divine. Every thrust hit the deepest parts of her like she expected, to stoke the fire burning in her core into an inferno.

He picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward with increasing force, the sound of their bodies meeting growing louder, more frantic. He shifted his weight, one arm wrapping around her lower back, lifting her hips slightly to change the angle.

She cried out, her body arching off the couch, her toes curling as another orgasm ripped through her. It was more intense than the others, a full-body explosion of pleasure that left her gasping for air, her vision swimming.

But even as she easily came, he didn't stop. He kept moving, riding her through the waves of her orgasm, pushing her higher and higher, until she was a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him as her walls clamped around him.

"I'm close," he warned, his thrusts becoming shallower, faster.

"Yes," she gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails leaving red crescents on his skin. "Yes, Kenji. Fill me up."

It was a lie and they both knew it, the stupid thin latex barrier between them a cruel reminder that he couldn't give her what she truly craved, what her body was screaming for. But in the heat of the moment, it was the only thing she could say, the only thing she could think.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, and he came with a loud, guttural groan. The feeling of him pulsing inside her, even separated by the condom, was enough to push her over the edge once more.

A body so weak and sensitive when she was in heat there was no other way to explain how fast she was cumming over and over again. The pleasure was so overwhelming, so all-consuming, that she blacked out for a moment.

She came back to her senses to the feeling of him slowly pulling out of her, leaving her feeling achingly empty. She was a mess—a sweaty, trembling, almost sated mess, but the fire in her core was far from extinguished. It was a low, dull ember now, but she knew it wouldn't take much to fan it back into a raging inferno.

Only that hot spunk trapped in the condom could extinguish it.

"Better?"

All she could do was to pant and shake her head.

"Don't worry. I'm not done with you yet."

Yes, a lot more rounds were necessary.

-----------------------------------------------

The room was silent, save for the sound of their heavy breathing and the faint ticking of a clock on the wall. They long moved their 'workout' to the bed after wrecking the couch. Mirko was a wreck too, sprawled bonelessly on her stomach, her face buried in the crook of her arm. Every muscle in her body felt like it had been put through a wringer, a pleasant, satisfying ache that spoke of hours of vigorous use.

For a blissful few moments, she was sated. The oppressive heat had receded to a tolerable warmth, the throbbing need in her core replaced by a deep, bone-deep satisfaction. The familiar scent and taste filled her senses, calming her restless spirit.

But yet even if she felt satisfied and her mind back in control, deep inside her she felt unsatisfied. The deep desire to be filled with hot seed to the brim was still there.

Her man shifted beside her, the mattress dipping with his movement. She felt the warmth of his body, the solid presence of him next to her. It was comforting, a grounding force in the aftermath of her hormonal storm.

"Tired?"

Mirko made a noncommittal noise, somewhere between a grunt and a sigh. "What do you think?"

He merely chuckled as one finger traced a finger across her back.

She was covered in marks—bite marks on her shoulders and neck, fingerprint bruises on her hips and ass, a few red welts where he'd gotten a bit too enthusiastic. However, she wore them like badges of honor, proof of a battle well-fought and thoroughly enjoyed.

His fingers traced a particularly dark bruise on her hip, his touch gentle. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," she admitted, turning her head to look at him. His black eyes were soft, the usual predatory gleam replaced by something warmer, something almost tender. "It's a good hurt, though."

She should be feeling better. She was feeling better, at least physically. 

But that ache remained. A deep, hollow feeling in her womb that had nothing to do with the rough treatment and everything to do with the frustrating latex barrier between them.

She wanted to feel him—really feel him. Skin on skin. The heat of him, the texture of him, the raw, primal connection of a male and female joining with nothing between them. She wanted to feel the hot rush of his seed filling her, claiming her, marking her from the inside out.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, a renewed pulse of arousal that she quickly suppressed. Now wasn't the time. The heat was under control, for now at least. Pushing for more would be greedy, even for her.

Still, she couldn't help the wistful sigh that escaped her lips.

Kenji's hand stilled on her hip. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, a little too quickly.

"Rumi."

The quiet way he said her name, without any teasing or humor, made her pause. She could feel his gaze on her, intense and unwavering. He saw right through her defences, through the tough-guy act she put on for the rest of the world. He always had.

"Just... thinking," she mumbled, turning her face away to hide the vulnerability in her eyes.

"About?"

She was silent for a long moment, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. How could she explain it without sounding like a clingy, needy mess? How could she admit that, even after all that, it still wasn't enough?

"Nothing," she finally said, her voice flat. "Forget it."

"Hey."

His fingers gently tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze again. There was no pity in his eyes, no judgment. Just a steady, calm understanding that made her chest ache.

"It's okay," he said softly. "You can tell me."

The dam broke. Not with a torrent of words, but with a single, fat tear that escaped and rolled down her temple. She hated it. Hated feeling this weak, this exposed. Hated that her own body could betray her like this, reducing the Number Five Hero to a weepy, hormonal mess.

But Kenji didn't pull away. He didn't even seem surprised. He simply leaned in and kissed the tear away, his lips gentle against her skin.

"I..." she started, her voice barely a whisper. "I want... CRAVE my womb to be filled."

No more sex.

Breeding.

"Alright, let's do it."

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AN: Fucking like rabbits or... Breeding like rabbits?