Chapter 18 - Nik and Gale Get Married

“Wrong…wrong…wrong…super wrong…Capital of USA…London…Capital of England…France…Fuck sake. I’m dealing with a class of morons,” Nik thought to himself. “How much more basic can I make this class.”
 
A giant stack of papers filled a box on his desk. It was the latest geography test he handed out during the day. Basic stuff. Capitals of states and provinces along the border. Capitals of major world powers. Basic fundamentals any knowledgeable person should know in daily life to understand their surroundings and world events. Suzy’s absence, recuperating in the hospital, sunk the class average. She propped up the class like a life jacket.
 
“Capital of Massachusetts…Red Sox…Shoot me now, preferably with a twelve gauge.”
 
Teaching took talent and dedication. One of the hardest professions in the world, the average person doesn’t understand the immense pressure a teacher is legitimately and illegitimately put under. Imagine a job where you’re the manager of the business, and each student is an employee. Now, imagine you can’t fire any employee, short of murdering a classmate. Next, have them go through puberty. Mix together with a blend of rich, poor, fed and hungry, happy and suicidal, and welcome to the life of a high school teacher. Give them a ten-month salary, and the continuous grind of reapplying for jobs and moving every year, and is it any wonder why they want to squeeze every penny out of the government for a raise?
 
“New York…Yankees…At least he knows his sports teams. And he spelled Yankee correctly…Wonderful. Maybe I’ll do the next test on sports teams.”
 
Paperwork became a constant. Marking and filing. Every assignment he concocted, he had to grade times thirty, times four. A never ending tidal wave of papers. Yet, he enjoyed it. He wouldn’t have gone back to the classroom unless he wanted to be in it. Too much stress and bullshit.
 
“Knock knock, busy there, stud?” Michelle called out, leaning against the open door.
 
“Buried in tests. Done yours already?”
 
“Ha, it never ends. I’m backlogged. Want to see if you’ve got a lunch date yet?”
 
“Nope, just dealing with this. Used my entire prep to get last week’s assignments done.”
 
Door closed behind her, Michelle leaned over the desk provocatively. Her tight dressed pushed up her pillowy tits on proud display.
 
“You know; I don’t think the principal is going to fire you. You’re fucking her, Massa.”
 
“I’d like to think I have some honor. I don’t want to impose our personal relationship on our work relationship.”
 
“Have it your way. By the way, she tastes good today.”
 
“You’re such a tease, know that, Michelle?” he smirked, finishing one more quiz.
 
“Teases don’t put out. See you in the staff room if you get bored.”
 
“Wait,” Nik stopped her. “I’ll come along. I do need a break. Haven’t been in there for a long time.”
 
Michelle had an arm hidden behind her back the entire time. Nik, focusing on correcting papers, didn’t notice.
 
“Here. My special lunch. Just for you.”
 
The black teacher smiled brightly, presenting the bagged lunch. Unsuspicious and generic packaging would leave no one the wiser.
 
“Thanks, Michelle. That is very sweet of you.”
 
Nik stood up, taking the lunch. He didn’t look inside yet, choosing to lean in and whisper into her ear.
 
“Wanting to be my number one house nigger?” he spoke, licking her ear.
 
Michelle’s legs melted instantly. Racialized words made her heart flutter. The more he said them, the more she clung closer and closer.
 
“Always, Massa. Can’t wait until tomorrow night. I get you all to myself,” she purred.
 
The staff room hustled and bustled. Staff sat, ate, and chatted away the hour under the grim reality of an underfunded, ghetto school slammed into their serene hideaway.
 
“I caught two more fighting in the hallways,” one man commented.
 
“What about this time?” a female teacher asked.
 
“Drugs, I think. I don’t know, or care. I called the security guard and let him handle it. Suit just got back from the cleaners. Not going to ruin it.”
 
“Found two girls fighting over a man yesterday. Guess he was two-timing them,” the female teacher replied.
 
Nik and Michelle sat down at an open table. Opening up the pack lunch, Nik couldn’t help but smile seeing the array of food. It looked healthy and delicious. A sweet aroma filled hungry nostrils.
 
“Hey, Nik, girlfriend pack your lunch for you today? Different than the typical stuff you bring,” Mr. Leger asked.
 
“Guess I did something right,” Nik joked.
 
Michelle tried not to blush, biting into her own sandwich as cover.
 
“Must be nice. Looks good. Ball and chain makes me fend for myself.”
 
“Why’d you marry her?” Nik asked.
 
“Catholic. Knocked her up. Her daddy gave me two choices. A shotgun or a wedding.”
 
“Isn’t it shotgun wedding?” Michelle asked.
 
“His spin on it,” Mr. Leger answered.
 
“Should have asked bird or buckshot,” Nik said, smiling.
 
Mr. Leger laughed, pointing at Nik in appreciation at the joke.
 
“You need to come to the staff room more often and liven things up,” Mrs. Latrell commented.
 
“Trying to keep a low profile. With the pending court case, and the stabbing, figured it’d be easier to keep to my corner of the school.”
 
“Real shame about all the violence,” Mrs. Latrell continued. “Guess it’ll only get worse.”
 
“How so?” Michelle asked.
 
“Jimmy Jack in jail left a power vacuum,” Nik interjected.
 
The other teachers silenced, surprised at his knowledge of school politics.
 
“What?” Nik asked.
 
“How do you know that?” Mrs. Latrell said.
 
“I watch a lot of cop shows. Gangster history is a hobby of mine,” he replied, not skipping a beat.
 
“Is a power vacuum bad?” Michelle said.
 
“It’s a signal to the other gangs to try and be top dog. Who knows if the guy will be back, so they want to consolidate their power in either eventuality.”
 
“You sure know a lot about that stuff. You a NARC?” a different teacher asked.
 
“Me? Nah. They have shit hours. I’m sorry, are you new? I never saw your around before, mister…”
 
“James. I’m subbing.”
 
“Nice to meet you. Sorry, I’m not a NARC.”
 
“How bad you think it’ll get?” Michelle kept asking, concerned.
 
“Who knows. Depends. I don’t know the players. Better off asking the others.”
 
Nik semi-lied. He knew what Suzy told him from brief conversations but not enough details to make an educated guess.
 
“We stay out of their way, and they’ll generally leave us alone. I give them their fifty-ones and they don’t cause any trouble,” Mrs. Latrell revealed.
 
“Double that for me. I’m not a hero,” Mr. Leger agreed. “Most of the students here get funneled through cause they stir up trouble at other schools. We pass them, we keep out funding. We don’t, we lose our jobs. No one pays attention much at a ghetto school, so no one comes knocking about proving test scores. Our kids don’t go to university.”
 
“I remember the previous principal mentioning something similar last year,” Michelle said.
 
“Shit,” Mr. Leger randomly shouted out, looking at his watch. “I’m late for a meeting. Forgot all about it. Bye folks.”
 
“I should probably head back to class too,” Mrs. Latrell said as well.
 
Without a word or comment, Mr. James sat at Nik and Michelle’s table.
 
“So you’re the guy the students are talking about, the one who got stabbed in a gang fight?”
 
“Not really a gang fight. Deck one student, get stabbed in the back by another. Another day in the office,” Nik answered.
 
“Pretty tough for a teacher.”
 
“Do we have a problem here?” Michelle asked, suspicious of Mr. James’ questions.
 
“No problem, just curious. Don’t often hear of a teacher able to take a stabbing.”
 
“I’m not a NARC,” Nik said, finishing the sandwich. “Besides, if I was, I wouldn’t tell you. First rule of spy school.”
 
“I don’t want to be late for class.”
 
Mr. James walked off, leaving the pair to finish lunch.
 
“Weird guy,” Michelle commented. “Wonder what got a bug up his ass.”
 
Nik shrugged.
 
“Don’t know. Is it a white thing?”
 
Michelle nearly choked on her milk.
 
“What?”
 
“I’m white so I must be a cop.”
 
Michelle regained her composure, then giggled, realizing he was joking.
 
“By the way, Nik, we’ve got that exam meeting after school to finalize the schedule.”
 
“No rest for the wicked. Hopefully it doesn’t take a long time.”
 
“Oh, got a hot date tonight?” Michelle flirted.
 
The harem made their secrecy easy. Open code, using the other girl’s as proxies. Telling the truth made making up stories easier on the fly, so to discuss Kelly and Maya had the same impact as if talking about herself.
 
“Yeah, she texted me she had something important to discuss.”
 
“A long, deep conversation, I bet.”
 
With Michelle sporting an expensive ring, and Nik openly confirming he had a girlfriend, they could flirt and make innuendos without fear of raising much suspicion.
 
“Ever see that James guy before?” Nik asked.
 
“Maybe? Once or twice last year. Don’t really know him. He is in the science department, I think.”
 
“Maybe he had a bad experience with the police before,” Nik shrugged. “Lunch time is over. Better get back at it.”
 
X
 
The afternoon crawled through time. Reading passages in boring history texts did nothing. Reading passages about dead white presidents and prime ministers did an extra helping of nothing to an all-black classroom. Their grades didn’t improve exponentially, but he did count himself lucky his war wound counted a little in keeping order in the class.
 
He saw them working away, partially. They had their books open to the right page at least, even though conversations about drugs and bitches and the latest cars and games filled their heads. But chaos evaporated compared to week one. They sat in their seats, not on them or stood on them. A small, palpable victory.
 
Decking Jimmy Jack in the gym class put a notch on the credibility belt. Getting shanked, prison style, and living to come back again, added a few more notches. Race aside, that street toughness helped keep some of the toughs in line. A form of mutual respect. He wasn’t a punk bitch that could be pushed around. 
 
Sitting on the side of his desk, reading a paragraph from the book, the bell broke up a moment of teaching serenity.
 
“Alright, class, remember to study for your test next week. Hint, it’ll be the exact same as today.”
 
The students filed out, one by one.
 
“Hey, Mr. Knight, got any extra work for me?” a girl asked.
 
“I’m still getting caught up on my marking. You’re already done half the book, Foxy,” he replied.
 
“Something else then? I just need to make sure to get an A in the class.”
 
“Could give you some extra credit. You graduate soon, right? How about write me a page on what you want to take at college and why.”
 
“That is too easy, Mr. Knight. I’ll have it done in ten minutes.”
 
“Easy credit then.”
 
“Done. Okay, bye,” she said, sweetly.
 
Grade-wise, aside from Suzy, Foxy stood leaps and bounds above her peers. Judging her skills properly was tricky due to how her classmates didn’t set any competitive bar. Always done in minutes. All assignments handed in on time, if not early. A dream student in a vortex of underachievers.
 
Despite being in a school wrecked with gang violence and underachievers, Nik learned to understand the why. Being a history teacher, his entire job began and ended with the word why. Every action leads to a reaction, prompting lessons in the concept of ‘why’. He experienced students coming to class hungry, asking for simple toast to fight the stomach pains. Some students had only a single parent, or no parents, forced to live with relatives, friends, or on the street. Many of their eyes dulled without hope in their futures. Depressing, sometimes Nik thought them the forgotten people.
 
He wasn’t, nor tried to be, the great white hope. While he enjoyed it, teaching was a job, a way to pay the bills. When the bell rang, he wanted to be one of the first out the door. Did that make him a worse teacher, or just human?
 
“Earth to Nik…Yoo-hoo…Anyone home?” Michelle called out from the doorway.
 
“Huh? Yeah, sorry, the meeting, right?”
 
“You cool?” she asked.
 
“Just deep in thought. Spaced out.”
 
“Deep in something, or someone?” she winked.
 
“So, this meeting usually long?”
 
“Do you care when you do your exams?”
 
“Not really. I’m flexible.”
 
“Then it’ll be quick. As long as a certain someone doesn’t butt heads, it’ll be quick. Miss Mo’neesha always needs things her way. Just go with the flow. Agree to her time table, and it’ll be five minutes. Argue, and we’ll be there for an hour. Trust me. Your predecessor and her always butted heads.”
 
“Gotcha. Don’t care, so let’s make this quick,” Nik replied.
 
“Your girlfriend got a special evening planned?” Michelle asked.
 
“You know me; I hate being late on a date.”
 
Walking together to the other English teacher’s room, the hallways of the school had tumbleweeds roll by. You couldn’t bribe the students to leave faster. The moment they entered the room, a sheet of paper got pushed in their face.
 
“I trust there won’t be any problems?” the short, fat, haggard woman said.
 
“We never read it yet,” Michelle commented.
 
“I spent a long time on it.”
 
Nik could see other staff members in his block rolling their eyes, or trying not to make a comment.
 
“Yeah, sure, looks good to me, Miss Mo’neesha,” Michelle answered.
 
“Uh, yeah?” Nik said, glancing at the schedule.
 
Reading between the lines, Michelle’s warning became quite clear. Five days of midterms were blocked off. Instead of a nicely spread out piece of logistical genius to try and make everyone happy, it saw Miss Mo’neesha front loaded her entire set of classes. Everyone else got log jammed together the remaining four days.
 
The consequence? More dead time, and less time for marking. Nik noticed his classes got back loaded, all at end of the week. With report cards due on the following Monday after midterms, it’d require taking marking home on the weekend. To a non-teacher, this would elicit remarks of ‘so what?’. But to staff, it meant the difference between a relaxing, stress free weekend, and the dreaded taking work home. Why spend a weekend marking tests if you don’t have to?
 
Nik remembered Michelle’s words, nodding in agreement instead of putting up a fuss. It wasn’t a hill worth dying on, yet, or stressing out about. If he had to take the marking home, so be it. He’d just use the free days efficiently, so they were not a waste of surfing the internet on his phone. And if need be, he had one of four bitches who could sit between his legs to make the marking an enjoyable experience.
 
X
 
Kelly strut around the bedroom of her home. Sleek, lacy, elbow length gloves and leggings adorned her perfect, Oriental frame. Ritualistically, she dressed in an expensive kimono, blazoned with clan symbols and kanji. Every movement slow, soaking in the moment. A long time coming. A long time dormant. A wide smile never faltered a moment during the dressing. Years she spent patiently waiting for Nik to reclaim the sword. Years she spent waiting for him to remember his leadership potential, so she could fulfill her womanly duty as heir to the clan.
 
It made the half-Japanese, half-Chinese crime daughter laugh that it took a minor schoolyard chest thumping for her true love to cut loose, and not hide his abilities. Many restless nights spent wondering what would have been if he didn’t save her life that stormy night. Maybe she’d be dead by a bullet, if lucky. If unlucky, drugged and forced into a brothel or turned into an AV star.
 
Kelly knew everything Nik did for her clan. Every plot, scheme, killing, kidnapping, and blackmail. Every movie he directed or performed in with reluctant and coerced women. It turned her on fiercely. No remorse, no morality, only the bliss of revenge. Part of her love for him came from a womanly fantasy of the knight saving the noble princess from the evil dragon. The other part, his criminal past, revealed the breadth of honor he’d fulfill in his manly duties. All for his first love, he went from mild-mannered school teacher to an amoral gaijin yakuza. What better man to call husband, and breed a superior heir to the Yamato clan?
 
Two hours Kelly bathed, primping and cleansing her entire body so it shone like an angel ascending from heaven. She’d serve him as angel and devil. Prim and proper, happy to not embarrass him in public. Seductive and a succubus in private, draining him dry with every fantasy his twisted mind conjured up.
 
This was the duty of a Yamato woman; the duty of the last heir of the Yamato clan. Purists would be shocked she’d dilute Japanese blood with a gaijin, but love’s arrow struck deep. Why be in charge if you can’t enjoy the benefits of doing as you please? Musashi died before siring an heir of his own. The family line rested on her shoulders, and as she was a half-breed, breeding outside her race came naturally.
 
Kelly waited patiently, silently, at the doorway of her home. She asked Nik to come over this night to perform a special submission ritual. A complete juxtaposition of previous depravity fit only for the most extreme of BDSM clubs.
 
When they left Suzy’s mother’s apartment the previous night, she knew the situation would be turning deadly soon. If a normal woman, there would be nothing she could offer to help. Being a fuckdoll only relieved his stress, not slice out the cancer that regrew in his soul. But if he came back into the fold, she’d have the power of the clan to support him.
 
After her brother’s death, clan leadership rightfully fell upon her, but the transition was far from smooth. In the male dominated world of the Yakuza, few clans, friend or foe, would respect her as leader. Therefore, she left the organization in the hands of various trusted regents until the day of her marriage.
 
Gale offered Nik a bargain. Be her husband and the entire power of the Yamato clan would follow his will. Nik learned the value of honor when working for Gale’s brother. Even though the yakuza boss owed him a life debt, it was Nik that felt he owed much in return. That was part of the reason he stayed as a pornstar, to repay the great debt of honor by filling the coffers emptied by his blood oath.
 
Nik opened the apartment door without a knock or doorbell chime. Kelly gave him a set of keys to use the place as his own if needed.
 
“Welcome home, Master. I’m here to please you,” Kelly cooed, bowing her head low to the ground in deference.
 
Nik knew the drill. He remembered Musashi got plastered one night and enlightened him about clan rituals.
 
“Modern women won’t put up with my clan’s traditions. Why do you think I’m single?” Nik remembered Musashi saying. “Men are men, and women are women. You’re a man, you can understand that? Hic”
 
The door closed behind him. Breathing intensified. Fingers spasmed, trying to keep calm. A brief flashback to Anri crept in his mind before reality set in. Kneeling down, he reached out to tip her face upward by the chin. Two fingers performed the act. Eyes locked, he probed her. The same fingers ran along the contour of her beautiful face. The greatest artists in the world couldn’t do justice to her Oriental beauty.
 
“I want a bath,” Nik ordered.
 
“Yes, Master, I’ll make you a bath immediately.”
 
Kelly didn’t latch onto his cock or jump up to tongue him. Total submission. After bowing again, she gracefully walked off to start the warm bath. Nik sat down on the leather couch, head resting back, waiting. This was not about him, despite what the night would hold. This was all about Kelly. A test of traditional wifehood. Despite their polygamous lifestyle, the position held great importance to her honor.
 
The day Kelly told him her true identity on the telephone, it soon dawned on him she led the clan after Musashi’s death. Fitness competitor by day, yakuza boss by night. A woman in a man’s world. By submitting to him, he was also submitting to her. He’d be a clan figurehead. Instead of rival leaders growing envious of the mistress’ looks, jealous and comparing their own concubines like women compare diamond rings, the southpaw advantage took root. A gaijin bodyguard on display, signifying a feminine power often overlooked to the downfall of others.
 
“The bath is ready, Master, just like you enjoy it,” she cooed, waiting by the bathroom door.
 
Head lifted up, he nodded and sauntered over. Once inside, he stood there, motionless. Kelly’s hands rubbed broad shoulders, kneading every inch of skin and muscle through the dress shirt. The entirety of his back felt with energetic fingers, continuously running vertical tracks. Hugging from behind, those fingers smoothly unfastened each and every button. Timed, controlled, letting the moment soak in. Nik spoke not a word, nor interfered. Once the last button hung open, fingers tiptoed from waist to chest. Her face gently rested between powerful shoulder blades.
 
Tonight was not about carnal depravity but an appreciation of the roles life dealt them. Soft, caring, nurturing, top-tier qualities for motherhood. A night of potential motherhood and mate material instead of another whoriental fuckdoll tryst.
 
Off came the shirt. The irezumi tattoo laid hidden on Nik’s back, painted over to disguise a yakuza background. Highly expensive and highly painful. Yet, Kelly let her fingers draw along a memory. She watched every film he starred in. She memorized the film order which outlined the tattoo’s growth. One finger outlined the entire boundary.
 
Their ceremony served double-duty. In addition to being a ritualized bonding, it also served his intention to descend back into darkness. The Muramasa, his blessing and curse, thirst for blood again. A tranquil peace broken; the sword pulled out of its long slumber, ready to commit evil in the name of good.
 
Each leg extended, allowing Kelly to peel off stinky socks. Then, the pants were unbuckled, pulling them and his underwear down to the floor. He stepped out, ignoring her to slip into the warm bath. It had the slightest bite to make Nik suck in a large breath before relaxing. Head leaning back against the edge of the bath, Kelly sat on the corner to wash his hair.
 
A Yamato never broke her honor. Previous family members found untimely demises to fulfill the requirements of honor. In a modern, honorless world, it was not only a source of pride but a valuable statement. It struck fear in the hearts of rival clans and breathed hope into friends. With honor also came humbleness. The average, modern woman would scoff at bathing her man as if used like a disposable sponge. But it bred humbleness. The world was a never ending battle of superiors and subordinates. Every situation a constant flux of the two. One moment the superior in rank, the next the subordinate. The modern woman would believe herself equal in all to a man, but Kelly’s traditional clan believed a man and woman had roles only they could do, and she was proud of it.
 
Blatant arrogance and a superiority complex that would make Lex Luthor look humble ran through proud veins. Born a woman, she’d be the best woman, a superior woman. To Kelly, the world ran in hierarchies. Constantly striving to be at the top of each and every hierarchy, her personal drive would find victory in even minor minutia. The game she played reached new levels. Other woman compared the size of the ring their husband gave them. She always laughed seeing juvenile displays, feeling pity at the men who could only find fakes and flakes.
 
‘Clan Above All’ was the family motto. A proud Yamato woman would complete her role to birth a new, superior generation to lead the clan to greater success and greatness. Kelly felt blessed her true love also was the best choice to fulfill the family motto. To bring Nik back into the fold would be a coup. Even if only on paper, rival clans would tread lighter knowing the Dark Knight of Yamato arose from slumber, patrolling the outlands.
 
Hair finished, Kelly rubbed a copious amount of soap onto her hands to massage Nik’s shoulders and chest. Soft and hard, gentle and stern, all fingers dug into excited skin. He made no motion to help or hinder, simply accepting the massage, but Kelly could feel the gratitude. She could feel the beat of his heart through his skin, her own syncing up in heavenly union.
 
Fingers paid special attention to his large chest, the first symbol of male power and dominance. Each muscle fiber stroked and cared for, pampered. Many a night she spent using his chest like a pillow, feeling safe and secure in his arms. Her perfect Adonis, strong and wise. Every part of him perfectly proportioned.
 
An hour long massage left Nik feeling on cloud nine. Standing up, his body floated, levitated on a cloud in the sky. Kelly held open a robe, sliding it on the moment Nik stepped out of the cooled-off bath.
 
“I’m thirsty,” Nik said.
 
Kelly bowed.
 
“Please relax, Master. I’ll prepare you a drink.”
 
Nik walked on ahead, back to the couch. It took little time for Kelly to return, glass in hand to present to him. A special cocktail, full of protein and vitamins to keep him fit and strong. Her own, unique recipe. A wife’s duty was to create meals, not only filling, but strengthening. She’d fill his stomach full and make him strong, at peak condition, for the hard road ahead.
 
As he sipped the drink, Kelly turned on a stereo. Traditional Japanese music softly played on the surround sound speakers. She stood in the middle of the floor, dancing to the tune. Each movement synchronized perfectly. A dance she practiced back in high school in Japan. Traditional training for when she found a husband.
 
Nik couldn’t keep his eyes off her. They glued themselves to her, much like with Anri years ago. Heartbeats fluttered. Parts of a cold, dead heart reanimated. Twenty minutes of dancing pumped blood through his veins. What man could say no to a woman who did all this? Maybe hundreds of years ago such submission was taken for granted, but Nik experienced such tradition only once before.
 
Every step, twirl, and motion, heavily synchronized to the music. Slow, sensual movements designed to tantalize and entice, rather than turn-on in lewd depravity. Face perfectly made up, she smiled brightly, locking eyes no matter the step. Gentle, warm, and inviting.
 
Standing up, Nik outstretched a hand. Kelly bowed deeply before taking it. Finally, Nik made a move, immediately lifting her up into his arms. He put his own, Eurocentric spin on things, carrying Kelly off to her bedroom. Any other night, he’d have her teeth dug into his neck or toss her on the bed before mounting her roughly. Tonight though, he gently placed the woman on the bed, still in his strong arms.
 
Their lips met, tenderly, romantically. They fixed together a solid minute, feeling a permanent home. Proud of her womanhood, Kelly knew to play the role of the perfect, traditional woman. She would allow Nik to lead in all ways tonight, to seal their pact the proper way. No slips, no mistakes, no crazed lust spoiling a sacred moment.
 
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling their man in close. Gentle femininity contrasting her toned physique. The kimono fell open, tantalizing the senses by revealing lacy lingerie. Sultry instead of slutty. A one-piece, pushing up her tits for extra dazzle. Nik’s hand reached below, sliding up the length of a leg. Underneath the kimono it laired, stroking smooth, creamy skin. Each stroke made Kelly squirm in delight, softly moaning.
 
It took all her willpower to stop from yanking Nik’s hair, from reversing back to their primal lust. Waiting passively bored her. If not for Nik pushing proper buttons, the traditional, feminine romance would have put her to sleep.
 
“Uhnnn,” she moaned through gritted teeth.
 
Nik had suddenly shoved a finger into her tight pussy. It went to the knuckle. Only one finger, but it felt like a heat seeking missile, striking multiple orgasmic zones.
 
“Where did you learn that trick?” she groaned, head flung back in pleasure.
 
“State secret,” he joked.
 
Finger-fucking her felt natural. Many nights he did the same to Anri. Many nights they practiced their love making, and practice did make perfect. He kissed her again, performing double-duty on Kelly. She rubbed his back, digging nails into his naked skin under the robe. So close to orgasm, edged. Never before did Nik edge Kelly on purpose. Their lust produced blood pumping orgasm after orgasm. Now, though, he wanted to make it last into a single, gigantic, pleasure wave.
 
Trained fingers knew timing, when to keep rubbing and when to stop. Pulling out the middle finger just before Kelly could orgasm left her gazing upon him in need, a far cry from her more dominant persona. The fingertip ran the length of her lips, coating them with a pussy juice lipstick.
 
“Tonight will be special, Kelly. I’m not going to fuck you. I’m going to make love to you. I can see it in your eyes. You need this as much as me,” he said while lathering up a second coat of lipstick.
 
Kelly nodded, silent, choosing instead to reach down and untie the robe. Nik reciprocated, letting the kimono fall onto the bed. Standing up on his knees, he discarded the robe. There, naked between her legs, his ripped body shone brightly thanks to the bath. Any other night, a range of degrading, domineering actions in his repertoire would be used. A slap, a wad of spit, even ripping her panties clean off. Tonight would be different.
 
Kelly looked on, eyes soaking in every inch of his perfect, godly body. He was a god to her. No one made her feel the way she felt, wanting to worship the ground he walked on. Her locked gate happily opened up for each and every time he turned it with his key. It was more than his hot, heavenly body that pushed her senses to the max. It was all of him. The calm that radiated from his core just from being within its aura. The dominance in his piercing eyes. The wisdom that flowed from his mouth. And the fulfillment of his honor, no matter the cost.
 
Kelly knew he’d stay with her, no matter what, to raise their child together, if conceived. Nothing on the planet would make him betray that vow of honor because nothing was more sacred than raising a child.
 
Two fingers pulled aside the crotch of the lingerie, allowing the thick, blood-filled cock to slip right into its awaiting sheath. Slow, letting themselves enjoy the entirety of the pierced veil. Flooded like a river heightened their pleasure. Kelly’s eyes rolled back into her skull, while both hands reached out to interlock with Nik’s.
 
Holding hands, Nik slowly pumped inside. Long, slow, gentle thrusts. No wild humping. No jackhammering. The fulfillment of two souls bonding together in quasi-matrimony. This was the first time Nik made love in years. Ever since Anri’s death, his sexual relations and conquests were pure fucking. No ‘love’. Entirely lust, blown up to one thousand percent. A metaphorical sword used literally to fulfill his blood oath.
 
“I’ve been in love with you forever, Nik,” Kelly admitted, staring directly in his eyes.
 
“I know.”
 
Her eyes gazed lovingly, bright and happy. Both heels rested on his lower back, giving full access for him to properly love her. Each thrust, slow but steady, sunk in from tip to full capacity. He made sure that even in romance, she’d feel every inch of him possible to seal the deal. Rhythmic, continuous thrusts, combined with deep, passionate kisses.
 
But it didn’t take long for that fabled stamina to sputter out and his cum to boil over. So used to the extreme, the pendulum swung to the opposite extreme tonight. Years of kinky fucking sent his carnal desires in one direction. Barren of any romantic pleasure, its starvation felt sated and swung in the opposite direction, forcing a quick ejaculation. Kelly felt each blast of cum pierce her womb, lathering and filling up the entire well. Each shot made her moan in delight, smiling greatly into each kiss.
 
Never had Nik seen her happy like this. She always had a smile on her face when they were together but this smile felt different. Resting inside, he remained knotted, literally sealing their deal. Fingers stroked her blushing face. No words required. Their love and affection radiated, signaling with body language.
 
For the next hour, they rested in bed, holding each other. Still no words were said. Loving caresses. The feel of her face resting on his chest, feeding off his heart beat. Each beat in sync with each other’s. Eyes closed, neither fell asleep but remained awake to enjoy the atmosphere. Nik stayed the night, consummating their ‘marriage’.