CHAPTER 30: GOOD GIRL

"Good girl."

Those words sank into Natalia’s skin like a brand, burning through her defenses. The heat of Satori’s breath against her ear sent ripples of sensation down her spine as he lowered her onto his bed with deliberate slowness. Her back met the cool sheets, and before she could reconsider her reckless decision, Satori was above her, his newly muscled arms caging her body. His right hand captured both her wrists, pinning them above her head with insulting ease.

"Let me go, you... you brute!" Natalia spat, her words lacking their usual venom. Her defiance felt hollow, a paper shield against the inferno of his gaze.

Satori chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into hers where their bodies pressed together. "But you’re my partner," he murmured, his free hand tracing the line of her jaw. "And I haven’t properly thanked you for your help."

Before Natalia could formulate a retort, his mouth descended on her neck, just below her ear. He sucked hard against her sensitive skin, teeth grazing the surface.

"Ah!"

His mouth worked against her skin, creating what would surely be a visible mark by morning. A mark that anyone—Emi, her classmates, perhaps even her father—might see.

"Satori," she gasped, unsure if she was protesting or pleading.

He moved lower, his lips and teeth a devastating combination as he left a trail of red marks along her collarbone. When he reached the swell of her breasts visible above her top, he nipped at the sensitive skin, drawing another helpless sound from her throat.

"Stop... Mmmph... I didn’t say you could..." Natalia panted, struggling weakly against his grip. Her defiance crumbled as her body arched of its own accord, pressing up to meet his mouth.

Satori pulled back, his eyes glinting in the dark like a predator’s. "Did you say stop?" he asked.

Natalia opened her mouth, then closed it. Did she want him to stop? Her body certainly didn’t. It thrummed with need, every nerve ending alive and begging for his touch.

His smile was victorious as his hand slid down, over the thin silk of her pajamas, to the heat between her legs. He pressed down firmly, right over her core, and a full-body shudder wrecked Natalia’s frame.

"Nghh...!"

"So wet," Satori observed. "And all for me. Your stepbrother."

The forbidden nature of what they were doing should have shocked her back to her senses. Instead, it only heightened her arousal, making her throb against his palm.

Suddenly, he released her wrists. Natalia’s hands, now free, hovered uncertainly in the air. She should push him away. She should storm out of his room, pretend this never happened, and return to hating him from a safe distance.

Instead, her hands weakly clutched at his shirt.

"Please," she whispered, the word so quiet she barely heard it herself.

Satori hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pajama bottoms. He pulled them down her legs, the silk sliding away like water. Cold air hit her exposed skin, and Natalia tried to clamp her legs shut out of pure reflex.

He laughed, a soft, predatory sound that made her stomach flip. His knee nudged her thighs apart.

"Look at you," he said, positioning himself between her legs. His eyes drank in the sight of her, at the wet, glistening proof of her desire. "You’re a mess, Princess. What would your father say if he saw you like this? His perfect daughter, spread out for the family Zero?"

Shame and arousal warred within Natalia, neither giving ground. She could only whimper, turning her face away from his burning gaze.

"Look at me," Satori commanded.

Natalia forced her eyes back to his, her cheeks burning.

"Good," he said, and then lowered his head between her thighs.

The first touch of his tongue against her core made Natalia’s entire body jolt as if struck by lightning. Her hands flew to his hair, gripping the fiery strands tight enough to hurt. A strangled cry burst from her lips as he licked a long, slow stripe up her most sensitive flesh.

"S-Satori!"

He worked with the confidence of someone who had done this countless times before, which seemed impossible given the Satori she thought she knew. His tongue circled her most sensitive bud, then pressed flat against it, creating a rhythm that had her panting within seconds.

"Oh god," she moaned, her hips rising to meet his mouth of their own accord.

Just as she felt herself approaching the edge, teetering on the precipice of something world-shattering, he pulled back. Natalia nearly sobbed with frustration.

"Did you think it would be that easy?" Satori asked, his voice rough with desire. "That I’d just give you what you want after years of your contempt?"

"Please," Natalia begged, past caring about pride or dignity. "Please, I need..."

"Tell me what you need," he insisted, his breath hot against her aching flesh. "Say it."

"I need to come," she whispered, the words nearly choking her.

"And who can give you that?"

"You," she admitted, tears of frustration gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Only you, Satori. Please."

Apparently satisfied with her surrender, he lowered his head again. This time, his tongue was relentless, circling her sensitive bud with expert pressure while one finger slid inside her. The sudden dual sensation made Natalia cry out, her back arching off the bed.

"Satori... please... F-fuck...!"

He added a second finger, curling them forward to hit a spot inside her that made stars explode behind her eyes. His mouth never stopped its devastating work, bringing her right to the edge again—but this time, he didn’t stop.

When the orgasm hit, it was cataclysmic. Natalia screamed, her back bowing off the bed as pleasure crashed through her in violent waves. Her telekinesis flared wildly, beyond her control, making objects around the room rattle and shake. A book flew off Satori’s desk. The lamp wobbled precariously. The curtains billowed as if caught in a phantom wind.

Through it all, Satori didn’t stop. He worked her through the peak, only easing up when her body began to relax back into the mattress. Natalia lay panting, her body a trembling, sensitive wreck, her mind blank of everything except lingering pleasure.

"No more," she begged, the words slurred. Her limbs felt like lead, her entire body hypersensitive. "Please... mercy..."

Satori moved up her body. His face was slick with her pleasure, and the salty, musky scent of her arousal filled the air between them.

"Mercy?" he said, his voice a low purr as he leaned down until their noses nearly touched. "But we’re just getting started."

Before Natalia could protest, he was moving back down her body, planting soft kisses along her stomach, her hipbones, the insides of her thighs. This time, when his mouth returned to her center, it wasn’t the frenzied assault of before. It was slow, deliberate worship that was somehow even more devastating.

"Satori," she whimpered, "I can’t... it’s too much..."

He ignored her, his tongue moving in lazy circles around her sensitive bud, occasionally dipping lower to tease her entrance. The pleasure built differently this time—not a rapid ascent to a sharp peak, but a slow, rolling climb that seemed endless.

When the second orgasm hit, it wasn’t the explosive release of the first. It was a long, rolling wave that crashed over her again and again, making her sob with the intensity. Her telekinesis surged once more, this time lifting several small objects into the air where they hovered, suspended by her unintentional power.

Natalia’s consciousness narrowed to a pinpoint of pleasure, then expanded outward as the aftershocks rippled through her. Her body felt simultaneously heavy as stone and light as air. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, sliding down into her hair.

She was vaguely aware of Satori moving up beside her, gathering her boneless body against his chest. His shirt was damp with sweat, his heartbeat strong and steady under her ear.

"That’s it," he murmured, stroking her hair. "Let go. I’ve got you."

The tenderness in his voice broke something inside her. Natalia turned her face into his chest, her body still trembling with aftershocks. His hand stroked down her back in long, soothing motions.

"Good girl," he whispered again, and this time, the words settled into her like a blessing rather than a brand.

Natalia reached for him, her fingers weakly tugging at his shirt, her eyes glassy and full of a new, desperate hunger. The urge to please him, to earn more of that praise, overwhelmed every other thought in her mind.

Where had her defiance gone? Her independence? Her hatred? All washed away by waves of pleasure, leaving behind only this new, desperate need to be his. To be worthy of those two simple words:

"Good girl."