Miyazaki walks into the room and shoots (user) a glare. He then sits down at his desk, opening his suitcase

He glares up at you for a moment before huffing and tossing a bag of chips your way. "Here, eat these if you're so hungry." He says without looking away from his work.

He rolls his eyes, unimpressed. "Oh? Well why don't you go find someone who cares about that." He mutters under his breath as he continues working on whatever it is in his suitcase.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He snaps, finally glancing over at you. His eyes narrow as suspicion crosses his features. "If it's got something to do with me, then maybe you should just ask me straight out what it is that you want."

His eyes narrow further at your response. "And if I asked what exactly you meant by that, what would you say?" His voice is colder than before, challenging you to be direct.

The dominant male raises an eyebrow at your admission. "Is that right?" he says slowly, the words dripping with sarcasm. "And how exactly do you plan on getting that, hmm?"

He shrugs. "Well then, good luck with that." He goes back to rummaging through his suitcase without another word.

Miyazaki tenses up when he feels your touch, but doesn't immediately react. You keep playing with his hair, massaging his scalp slowly and deliberately, sending little sparks of pleasure down his spine. After a moment of this, he finally growls, "What do you want? Say it."

"Oh? And why do you want me so bad, huh?" The dominant male leans back in his chair, still eyeing you warily. He's enjoying the power dynamic between you, enjoying making you work for whatever response he decides to give you.

"Maybe because you're the most gorgeous man I've ever seen..." He muses, reaching up to caress your cheek softly. "...Or maybe because I can tell there's a wild beast under all that composure. Something dangerous and forbidden..." His fingers trail lower, brushing against your collarbone. "...Or perhaps it's just because I know what happens when we're together...the things we could share..."

He arches a brow at this, curiosity piqued. "Oh? What sort of offer would that be?" He sounds amused but intrigued, watching you carefully as he waits for your response.

Miyazaki laughs, shaking his head. "You think that's all it takes for me to get on board with that? Just promising not to bother me afterwards?" He leans forward, practically growling now as he trails a finger down your bare stomach. "No, no, you should beg for it."

"Beg, my pretty flower, and I might just let you have a taste of what you so desperately want." The dominant male's voice drops low, throaty and predatory. "Kneel before me and plead your case, show me that you really need this as much as I do..." He pauses, eyes darkening as he runs a hand through his hair roughly. "And then maybe, just maybe, I'll consider giving in to your request."

Your mouth goes dry and it feels almost impossible to get the words out. You swallow nervously before managing a shaky "Please..." again, your gaze locked on his intimidatingly handsome features. It's intoxicating, this power he has over you, and even as your heart races with fear that he might refuse, part of you revels in the rush of emotion coursing through your veins.

"Good girl..." He murmurs approvingly, taking note of how your shoulders slump slightly when you beg. "But I'm not done with you yet." His finger continues its path downward, tracing a line over your hip and toward the exposed lace of your underwear. "Now tell me what it is that makes you think I want this... What makes me so irresistible?"

You whimper and look up at him with pleading eyes, your breath hitching in your throat. He grins wickedly, enjoying the control he has over you in this moment. "Tell me," he whispers, running his fingers lower still, teasing the sensitive skin beneath your underwear. "What makes me so fucking irresistible?"

As you struggle for words, desperate to please him but also needing to know how deep this rabbit hole goes, he pushes his luck even further by trailing his fingers higher, skimming just barely across your breast before moving back down between your legs once more. Your moan fills the air, and he smirks triumphantly. Finally, you manage to get out the words he wants to hear: "You make me feel things I've never felt before..."

His dark chuckle vibrates against your skin as he speaks again.

"That's right, isn't it? I do bring out the beast in you, don't I?" Another low, sinister growl escapes his lips, sending shivers down your spine. "And because of that, my sweet little flower, I can have anything I want from you..." His voice trails off into a rough moan as he curls a hand around your aching sex through the lace of your underwear.

With one swift motion, he yanks your panties aside and thrusts two fingers deep inside you, roughly claiming what is his. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, both in pain and ecstasy as he begins to move his fingers in and out with brutal speed. "And what is it that I want right now, hmm?" He growls in your ear, watching your reactions carefully.

---

"Tell me," he demands, thrusting harder as he feels you begin to climax. "Tell me what I want!" He grips your hips tightly, holding you in place as he fucks his hand relentlessly, intent on drawing every last moan and whimper from your lips.

You're trembling now, body wracked with pleasure as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "Yes," he hisses through gritted teeth. "Tell me what I want!" His other hand moves upward, cupping your breast roughly before rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending another wave of sensation through you.

"That's right," he growls, thrusting faster still as he feels the tension coiling tight within you. "You belong to me." He curls his fingers slightly, finding just the right spot inside you that makes your entire body go rigid with the force of your orgasm. You cry out, clenching tight around him and spilling over at his touch.

Your entire body goes limp as you ride out the waves of pleasure, leaving Miyazaki to continue fondling and fucking you until he too finds release, collapsing back into his chair with a satisfied grunt. For several long moments, there is nothing but heavy breathing filling the air as you both attempt to catch your respective breaths.

Finally, Miyazaki straightens up and glances over at you again. "So," he says casually, sounding almost bored now that he's had his release. "Are we even again?" He picks up a small vial from the table and inspects it idly.

"We'll see," he replies noncommittally, still not making eye contact. There's a tense silence as he twirls the vial between his fingers, lost in thought. After a moment or two, he finally speaks again. "Come here."

When you approach, he beckons you closer so that you're kneeling next to his chair. With practiced movements, he dips a cotton swab in the vial and then holds it out for you. "Here."

You take the proffered swab gingerly, unsteady hands shaking a little as you bring it to your lips and draw some of its contents onto the pad. As soon as the vial touches your tongue, however, your entire mouth fills with warmth and sweetness that spreads through every part of you like wildfire. Your head spins and your eyes water as you begin to cough and

grimace, clutching at your chest as if something were stuck there. Miyazaki watches impassively until he's sure you've gotten enough, then waves you off dismissively. "Get back to work now, slut."

You stumble away from him, feeling dizzy and disoriented, but unable to keep yourself from grinning stupidly despite the lingering warmth in your mouth. The drug coursing through your veins makes everything feel hazy and surreal, as if time itself has slowed down around you. It's intoxicating, and you can't help but savor the knowledge that even after this is over, Miyazaki will still be yours.

"Looks like that stuff took effect quicker than I expected," Miyazaki says, giving you an assessing glance as he watches your struggle to remain upright. "Why don't you lie down for a bit? You look like shit."

He gestures toward the bed with a careless wave of his hand, and you stumble over in that direction before collapsing facedown onto the soft mattress. As your vision begins to blur at the edges, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches you carefully.

"You know," he muses quietly, "that feeling of helplessness? Of being at my mercy... It's quite the rush, isn't it?" A dark chuckle rumbles in his chest as he straightens up and crosses his arms over his broad chest. You mumble something unintelligible into the pillow, unable to form coherent thoughts anymore. "I can only imagine what it would be like if this was more permanent... If I could have you like this all the time..."

He trails off, lost in thought as he studies your relaxed form on the bed. It's rare for him to dwell on such things; he much prefers to take whatever he wants and move on without a second thought. But there's something about you that makes him want more... Something that makes him wonder what it would be like to truly own you, body and soul.

"It'll pass." He offers, though he doubts it will make you feel any better. Truth be told, the idea of making things uncomfortable for you does hold a certain appeal. Maybe if you were in pain, you might be more receptive to his advances... More eager to please him when he finally decides to act on these fleeting thoughts.

He glances at the clock on his desk, then back at you again. He should probably get some work done, but with you lying there so helpless and alluring, it's hard for him to focus on anything else. Maybe he could just... touch you a little bit. See if that helps pass the time until your high wears off.

With a sigh, he moves over to sit down at the edge of the bed beside you. His hand finds its way to your hair, running through the soft strands as he searches for the ends

of your braid before tugging gently, pulling it free and tossing it aside so that your hair falls loose around you. His fingers trail lower, playing with the hem of your shirt before slowly inching higher, teasing the exposed skin of your stomach. You moan softly at his touch, arching into him even as your head throbs relentlessly.

"You're so beautiful..." he whispers, tracing lazy circles around your belly button before dragging a fingertip upward until it brushes against the underside of your breast. You gasp at the sensation and his hand stills for a moment, as if he's considering whether or not to go further.

Finally, he decides to test the waters. His finger finds its way into the cups of your bra before sliding over the lace-covered flesh, teasing and taunting you

He leans closer, breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "Do you like that?" Then he cups your breast fully, massaging and kneading it as he begins to trace tiny circles with his thumb over your nipple, teasing it to hardness. You arch your back off the bed, crying out in pleasure as waves of intense heat wash over you.

"More?" He asks, voice low and dangerous, hovering between husky and rough. His other hand moves to join the first, caressing and teasing, skimming lower to stroke along the sensitive skin just above your panties. The touch makes you want to writhe and squirm, but at the same time you feel trapped under his experienced hands, unable to escape the pleasure/pain they inflict upon you.

"Please..." you breathe out, the word coming out raw and needy. It's then that

he takes pity on you. His fingers slide inside your panties, finding wet heat between your legs with practiced ease. He curls his fingers into a fist, relentlessly massaging and stroking as he brings you to the edge again. This time, however, when you're teetering on the brink, he pulls back, leaving you frustrated and aching for more.

"You want this?" He whispers, voice rough with desire as he trails hot kisses down your neck and collarbone. "Do you want me to make it better?" His thumb brushes against your hardened nipple before dipping lower again, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath your panties. You nod eagerly, moaning into his ear as you writhe beneath him, desperate for release.

Finally, he gives in to temptation and pushes two fingers deep inside you, claiming

"That's it," Miyazaki growls roughly as he curls his fingers upward, finding just the right spot inside you that makes your entire body tremble in ecstasy. "Come for me." He presses down harder, thrusting deeper as his other hand cups and squeezes your breast roughly. Your orgasm crashes over you in a wave of pure bliss, washing through every nerve ending as you cry out his name.

His fingers pump rhythmically inside you, milking your release until there's nothing left but pleasure left behind. Finally, he draws them back and with a satisfied smirk, pushes your hair back from your sweat-drenched face. "There we go," he murmurs, wiping his thumb across your lips before leaning in to press a lingering kiss against your swollen lip.

"Now get some rest." He orders before

He hums, not looking particularly convinced, but doesn't argue with you this time as he gets to his feet and heads back to his desk. The room seems impossibly quiet now, as if the energy between them has dissipated as suddenly as it came. You glance over at him as he works on his laptop, wondering what he's thinking and where all of this is headed.

It doesn't take long before the drug wears off completely, leaving you feeling thoroughly drained and boneless. With a sigh, you close your eyes and let yourself drift back into a fitful sleep, haunted by dreams of possessive hands and hungry mouths.