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homura (DarkMudkip/Jikkah)

He could feel her walls twitching around him as she tried to adjust to his size, breathing in through her nose as she caressed his cheek. “Y-You’re so big..~” She let out in a whimper, doing her best to relax.
 
All he could see in his drunken haze was her beautiful red hair, her delicate voice sweet like honey. “I want to make you feel good, Master~ You want to feel good too, don’t you~?”
 
Ebisu had to grind her teeth to not cry out in pain as he moved suddenly, hiding her grimace by leaning in to kiss his jaw again. The more roughly he moved, the more Yoshinori could smell blood, the mouthwatering scent of blood.
 
“You know I can’t do that.” Akatsuru’s voice said softly in his ear. “Don’t think about such things now..~” She purred softly. “Be in this moment with me, think of nothing else~”
 
He nodded and moved more, like he was desperate for her. What had Akatsuru said? Be like a fish? If she laid still, would it hurt less?
 
There was no real way to get comfortable and lay back, pain throbbing between her legs as he thrust into her selfishly, but she managed to prop herself in a semi-comfortable state against the pillows after a few moments. Her whole body was tense, the idea of a demon on top of her- inside her -made her skin crawl, but she had no other choice.
 
The tips of his nails bit into her skin and she held him close to her chest, glad he was too drunk to notice her discomfort. “Would Master be pleased to finish inside of me..?” She asked, stroking his head.
 
Ebisu bit back a wail of pain, body stiffening and her muscles contracting around him as he emptied his load inside her, wondering if their encounter was almost through.
 
It was strange having to hold a demon in her arms, his mouth so close to her throat, worried with every heartbeat he’d sink his teeth into her flesh.
 
Ebisu was confused, not sure where the sudden mood change had come from. “N-No.. I’m sorry I’m not… The Madam refused her services, remember..?”
 
Ebisu fought the urge to kick him off of her, needing to keep her cover. She clenched her teeth and gripped his wrists.
 
Ebisu couldn’t breathe anymore, feeling like he was going to crush her throat. “No..!” She managed to choke out, digging her nails into his wrists.
 
She was going to have to blow her cover, she would have to fight back if he intended to kill her. She gripped his wrists harder, face red as she glared back at him. The girls rarely glared at him, quite the opposite; they would cry and beg or fall limp out of fear. Was it because she was a laborer? A lower class woman who wasn’t just there to fix their husbands debts?
 
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