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Tamayo laid in the softest patch of grass she’d ever felt in her life as she soaked in the evening sun’s light. She stretched her limbs with a contented sigh and rolled onto her side.
It felt good to be human.
The sound of heavy, uneven footsteps roused Tamayo from her sleep. It was night now. She did not stir but her visitor wasn’t fooled.
“There was a time I could have snuck up on even Uzui,” Shinobu said, voice devoid of readable emotion.
Tamayo stretched and rolled to face the other woman, debating on a response.
Shinobu wore a simple lavender kimono tied with a forest green obi under her signature butterfly haori. Tamayo thought the Insect Hashira filled out her civilian clothing stunningly. Her newly acquired curves gave her waist and belly a fullness that left the centuries old doctor rather breathless when she stared too long.
The right arm of the kimono had been cut off at the shoulder and sewn shut, but the woman’s beloved haori remained unaltered.
The former slayer was favoring her left leg. Her furrowed brow and the light sheen of sweat on her soft, porcelain skin told Tamayo that Shinobu had pushed herself to her limits today.
“You’re still learning how to walk on it,” Tamayo said kindly. “I think in another year you’ll be able to sneak up on anyone again.”
“Maybe if they’re drunk,” Shinobu muttered under her breath. “Well, I didn’t come out here to sneak up on you!” she said, suddenly chipper. “I still have a few tasks before we turn in for the night and need some assistance.”
Tamayo silently got to her feet and dusted herself off. After a year and a half of healing, stubborn denial, and frightening levels of depression, Shinobu was finally asking for help instead of begrudgingly permitting it when it was offered.
Tamayo smiled to herself as she followed her lover to the Butterfly Mansion, grateful to be one of the few people the proud woman trusted enough to come to for any assistance she needed. These days the former demon was the only one Shinobu permitted to wheel her from place to place or help her take notes. She hated the idea of burdening her sisters despite the fact she was anything but a burden to her loved ones. All five girls were overjoyed to see her come home after the final battle and would gladly do anything to make her feel comfortable and loved.
Shinobu paused at the base of the stairs of the mansion's engawa, giving them a resigned look.
“Need a minute?” Tamayo asked, waiting a respectful distance from the other woman.
Shinobu shook her head. “I over extended myself today… Coming down the stairs might have been a mistake.”
Tamayo said nothing as she pressed against Shinobu’s right side and wrapped her arm around her waist.
Shinobu took a deep breath and set her jaw. “I’m ready.”
They climbed the stairs together, one at a time, to where Shinobu’s wheelchair waited at the top.
It was an odd contraption, but one the doctor in Tamayo loved to no end. The seat and back were made out of wicker and the frame and wheels were made from lightweight metal, with the wheels capped by rubber, just like a bicycle. The occupant of the chair is supposed to propel themselves by pushing the wheels forward or back, but Shinobu was unable to do so one-handed. The Corps’ engineers, however, were hard at work experimenting with designs that would allow the many one-armed survivors of the Infinity Castle battle to still move autonomously now that they were no longer able to walk.
But for now, Shinobu had to make do with someone, namely her lover, using the handles attached to the backrest.
Shinobu dropped heavily into her seat and released the breaks.
“To the lab, please. The latest batch of the cure should be ready for bottling,” Shinobu said, sounding relieved to be off her feet.
Since Muzan’s death, the Demon Slayer Corps’ main objective had switched from slaying what few demons remained after the battle to curing and rehabilitating them whenever it was possible. And part of the process was the mass production of the cure both here and at Headquarters.
“You know, Yushiro is more than capable of taking care of the cure,” Tamayo reminded her gently as she started towards the labs.
Shinobu hummed an acknowledgement. “He was reading with the triplets and looked… happy. I didn’t want to bother them.”
“So you came and woke me from my nap instead?” Tamayo accused in good humor.
“You would have gotten pneumonia laying in the damp grass all night,” Shinobu said cheerily. “Besides, my bed would have been inhospitably cold if I had left you out there.”
Tamayo couldn’t help her smirk. “We can’t have that now, can we?”
“Absolutely not! The cold makes my stumps ache something awful!”
Tamayo leaned down to whisper in Shinobu’s ear, “My poor butterfly, all cold and achy without me. Perhaps a massage will warm you back up?”
Shinobu hummed approvingly. “It’s certainly a start.”
Shinobu leaned forward in her wheelchair, digging through their nightstand, picking out the oils she wanted Tamayo to use on her. The other woman was currently laying towels over the bedsheets.
Shinobu had switched to a four-poster, Western-style bed from a normal futon after she lost her arm and leg. It had been significantly easier for her to roll in and out of the off-the-ground bed while she’d been healing than it had been to kneel down and push herself off her futon every time she needed to lay down.
At this point in her physical therapy, Shinobu was more than capable of going back to a normal bed, but she’d grown fond of the four-poster. It held some of the better memories she’d made during the eternity that she’d spent recovering from her encounter with Upper Moon Two.
Damn Akaza to hell and back for ripping her out of that bastard’s body mid-absorption. There were days Shinobu wished he’d let her die with dignity.
But there were her sisters to think about. There were the good memories she’d made since that day. And, of course, there were all the pleasures and headaches that she and Tamayo gave each other.
Those were the things that kept Shinobu going, and the days she was grateful to still be alive were steadily outweighing the ones she longed for death.
“The bed’s ready when you are,” Tamayo announced proudly, cutting through Shinobu’s ruminations.
“I’m ready if you’ve braced your eyes for me,” Shinobu joked, oil in hand.
Tamayo frowned for a fraction of a second before she smiled in a way that made Shinobu realize she’d just dug her own grave.
Tamayo was already behind her chair, wheeling her to the mirror by the dresser slowly, giving her the chance to voice any protests.
Shinobu didn’t take it, but she did sulk and turn her gaze away from the covered, body-length mirror.
She hated it when Tamayo did this-- made a show of her. But she loved how the other woman could make her feel pretty again. And she hated that she loved it.
She hated seeing what Douma had done to her body-- that was why the mirror was always covered! But she loved that Tamayo wasn’t repulsed by her disfigurement and weight gain. It was why she allowed the doctor to park her in front of this torture device and rip off the sheet without a complaint.
Tamayo retook her place behind Shinobu, a soft, loving smile on her face. “What do you see, Shinobu?”
Shinobu took a brief glance at herself in the mirror. Her wooden prosthetic gave her the appearance of a woman with both legs, but it was obvious that the right sleeve of her haori was empty.
“A cripple,” she said, voice on the verge of cracking.
“Do you want to know what I see?”
“You’re going to tell me regardless,” Shinobu mumbled.
Tamayo nuzzled into the hair at Shinobu’s temple. “I see an incredibly strong, resilient, beautiful woman.”
“I’ve gotten soft,” Shinobu said, already overwhelmed by Tamayo’s praise. She never knew how to respond to it, other than to deny it.
“Soft?” Tamayo questioned, placing a kiss to Shinobu’s temple, her hand skimming down the hashira’s remaining arm to give the bicep a gentle squeeze. “Feels firm to me.”
Then both her hands danced a line across Shinobu’s collarbone from opposite sides to meet in the middle. Then they traveled over her breasts and belly to her thighs. Tamayo gave a contemplative hum as she altered between rubbing Shinobu’s thighs through her clothing and giving them firm squeezes, not once shying away from the point where her leg met prosthetic right where her knee used to be.
“These feels strong, too,” she whispered gently. “Powerful, even. I bet you could keep me trapped between them all night if you wanted to.”
Shinobu flushed hotly, her gut tightening in barely contained anticipation. One of Tamayo’s hands glided up her body while the other continued to rub circles into her leg.
“See for yourself, my butterfly,” Tamayo said, directing Shinobu to look at herself in the mirror. “See how you shine like the sun on a cloudless day?”
She placed a kiss on Shinobu’s cheek, then her jaw, then peppered kisses down the hashira’s neck and across her right shoulder, where she rested her chin. “It's as though you were sculpted in the likeness of the sun Herself.”
Shinobu silently preened at her lover’s praise and pressed her head against Tamayo’s.
Tamayo inhaled deeply. “Smells so good,” she whispered breathlessly, almost as if she hadn’t meant to say it.
Her hands left Shinobu’s face and thigh to cup her breast and stroke her belly. “Soft doesn’t mean weak, my butterfly, it means having more to give.”
Shinobu had her doubts about that. She felt so frail and helpless compared to how she used to be, but she shoved that feeling aside as Tamayo licked a stripe up the side of her throat right as she slipped a hand into her clothing to pinch a nipple between nimble fingers.
Shinobu let out a quiet sigh, resisting the urge to let her eyes slide shut. Tamayo wanted her to see , and would not permit her to look away. Not yet.
Shinobu sought out her lover’s lips and Tamayo returned her affection with fervor, her lips eagerly parting way under the swordswoman’s seeking tongue.
“Hmm. So impatient,” Tamayo mumbled against her mouth.
“You taste good,” Shinobu said, diving in for more.
Tamayo took her lower lip between her teeth with a satisfied sound.
Tamayo never shied away from Shinobu’s affections, never turned her down in a way that made her feel hurt or ugly. Tamayo always made her feel desirable, beautiful, sexy. Perhaps it was selfish of her, but that was what Shinobu loved the most about her partner-- the way she made her feel worthy, even when she was in pain and lashing out at the world.
She wished so much to give Tamayo something worth even half the value of what the former demon had given her.
Tamayo loosened Shinobu’s obi and snuck her hand past her kimono to slip under her underclothes. Her fingers brushed against the soft curls above her slit but went no farther.
“Tease,” Shinobu growled, a little out of breath.
“Want to see you first,” Tamayo panted against her lips. “My beautiful lady.”
Shinobu flashed a panicked glance towards the mirror. “Not here.”
She wasn’t ready. Didn’t think she’d ever be.
“Okay,” Tamayo said softly, withdrawing her hand from between Shinobu’s legs. She gently petted Shinobu’s hair. “Do you want to keep going?”
Shinobu nodded, relief flooding her as Tamayo turned them away from the mirror. “Please.”
Tamayo parked Shinobu’s chair beside their bed and took the massage oil from her. “May I undress you tonight?” she asked as the other woman moved from the chair to stand by the side of the bed.
Tamayo loved stripping her lady of her clothing before a tryst, loved the way the fabric slid down Shinobu’s skin. But there nights when Shinobu needed to be the one to undress herself and Tamayo had learned that it was better to ask rather than guess which mood her lover was in.
Shinobu smiled and cupped Tamayo’s cheek in her hand and pulled her in for a chaste kiss.
Tamayo grinned against her lips at the silent consent and tossed the oil jar onto the bed.
Her mouth was as ravenous as a demon against her lover’s lips. Tamayo ran her hands over Shinobu’s shoulder, not shying away from the stump where her right arm used to be, her fingertips gliding down to the hashira’s generous waist. The feel of Shinobu’s plump flesh beneath her hands made Tamayo salivate in a way that was dangerously reminiscent of her time as a demon half-crazed by hunger.
What she wouldn’t have given in the days before they’d finished the cure to have been able to sample the Insect Hashira’s precious ichor. She bet Shinobu would have been bittersweet on her demonic taste buds, like a blackberry that had ripened but hadn’t gone soft.
Tamayo didn’t bother to suppress the moan that thought summoned as she teasingly pulled at Shinobu’s obi before finally undoing it completely. She let the cloth fall to the floor and gracelessly pushed Shinobu’s outer clothing off her shoulders to join it.
A light shove to her chest sent Shinobu falling onto her back into the center of the bed.
“I should spank you,” Shinobu said as Tamayo loomed over her, caging her between her arms and sliding a knee between her legs just far enough that she could feel it but not grind against it. “The way you treat my haori is unforgivable,” she said with a small smile.
“You should,” Tamayo challenged as she undid her lover’s hairpin to carefully set it on the wheelchair. “Maybe the lesson will stick this time.”
Shinobu gave her a wicked look that vanished when Tamayo slipped her hands under her juban to caress her sides, both the unblemished left and the heavily scarred right. The normally talkative woman went quiet, on edge but not yet ready to withdraw.
This is where Tamayo had to be the most careful with her lover. Shinobu hated being naked. Despised being seen naked. It had taken months of gentle coaxing and consistent praise in bed before Shinobu had been willing to disrobe for sex, and it was still a delicate place for her to be in.
Tamayo went slowly, kissing Shinobu deeply, their tongues weaving together in a passionate dance as she continued to stroke her lover’s skin.
Shinobu began to work on Tamayo’s obi, untying it with a practiced ease.
Pleased by her initiative, Tamayo pressed her leg into Shinobu’s groin as she exposed more of the hashira’s skin to the open air, fully sliding her juban off her body.
Shionbu rolled her hips against Tamayo’s thigh with a grunt, breaking their kiss. “Leg,” she said unhappily.
Tamayo blinked dumbly, briefly wondering what was wrong with her leg before she realized they forgot to take off Shinobu’s prosthetic.
Tamayo quickly got up and dropped to her knees between Shinobu’s legs to unbuckle the straps holding the elegantly carved and polished wood to her thigh. She slid it off Shinobu’s stump and laid it over the seat of the wheelchair with a great reverence for both items. They were extensions of the Insect Hashira’s body and deserved the same level of respect the woman herself did.
“Better?” Tamayo asked, pulling off the protective sock the other woman wore over the delicate flesh where her leg now ended.
“Much!” Shinobu said as she wriggled free of her underclothes. Then she stretched and laid out on her belly over the towels, head resting on her arm. “There has to be a better material than wood to make prosthetics from.”
“If anyone can find it, it’ll be us,” Tamayo said, not bothering with humility. They were the women who cured the demonic virus. Nothing was impossible so long as they worked together.
Shinobu chuckled as Tamayo climbed onto the foot of the bed. “I think you’re forgetting that we’re microbiologists, not medical engineers.”
Tamayo hummed to herself as she retrieved and uncorked the massage oil. Shinobu may have a point there.
She poured a conservative amount of oil onto her palm to start off, rubbing it into both hands before picking up Shinobu’s foot to rest it on her knees. Shinobu’s foot and ankle always hurt terribly after a long day out of her chair, and Tamayo made it a point to give them at least a basic massage every night.
Tamayo started at the ball of Shinobu’s foot then worked up to her heel, alternating between thumbs and knuckles, light and heavy pressure, up and down. Over and over again.
Shinobu sighed bodily, her relief evident in her voice. “How are you so good at this?”
Tamayo allowed herself a sad smile as she remembered her long dead, hard-working husband. “It’s a gift,” she said evasively.
Then her smile turned soft and endearing. “You have the cutest toes. I just want to gobble them up.”
Shinobu snorted and gave her toes a wiggle. “What’s stopping you, demon?”
Tamayo grinned wickedly. Is that how Shinobu wanted to be?
That was perfect.
“What are you-- Oh!” Shinobu squawked as Tamayo popped the slayer’s big toe into her mouth.
She’d never done this before, but knew it wasn’t all that different from working fingers with her tongue.
“O-ooh…” Shinobu sighed as Tamayo sucked on her toe, then she worked her tongue between it and its smaller counterparts. The oil gave them a surprisingly pleasant flavor.
“That… that almost makes me wish I had a penis for you to do that to,” Shinobu said, sounding uncomfortable with that revelation.
Tamayo hummed with amusement and pulled off of Shinobu’s toes with a pop . She placed a tender kiss to the top of Shinobu’s foot, set down her leg, applied more oil to her hands, and started working her way up Shinobu’s calf, acting like nothing unusual had happened at all.
If Shinobu wanted answers, she had to be the one to ask questions.
Tamayo paid extra attention to Shinobu’s thigh, working into the deeper muscle tissue as she inched her way up to her ultimate prize.
Tamayo slid her slick fingers between Shinobu’s leg and vulva, enjoying the subtle signs of anticipation building up in her lover’s body. The way her muscles twitched and her breath hitched had the former demon’s gut tightening in desire.
But it wasn’t time yet.
Tamayo switched legs and began her massage over again on Shinobu’s stump.
Shinobu shifted but showed no outward signs of discomfort, so Tamayo gave her right thigh the same level of love and attention as the left. When she made it to Shinobu’s buttocks, she licked a broad stripe up Shinobu’s inner thigh, turning at the last moment to avoid her pussy.
Tamayo gave Shinobu’s plump, mouth-wateringly beautiful ass a playful nip.
Five hundred years ago, before she’d regrown her conscience, Tamayo would have happily eaten Shinobu alive, ass-first, having little patience to save the best for last.
Shinobu huffed a laugh. “What is it with you and my ass?”
Tamayo grabbed a generous cheek in each hand, barely maintaining the calm, measured movements of a masseuse.
“I would walk barefoot into Hell to see you in one of those tight Western suits-- to see the way the close fit of those pants hug your curves. The way the seams would struggle to contain your ass. It’s so firm and full. Kimonos and hakama never seem to do it justice,” Tamayo said, leaning down to brush her lips over Shinobu’s pale skin.
“You’re quite the saleswoman,” Shinobu said huskily. “You just might get your wish.
Tamayo kissed the small of Shinobu’s back. “You spoil me.”
Shinobu chuckled lightly as Tamayo straddled her hips and started to work on the knots in the swordswoman’s shoulders. “I spoil you? You’re the one who treats me like a princess.”
Tamayo pushed a moan out of Shinobu with a well placed press of her fingers. “And you let me. I don’t think I can articulate how special you make me feel when you let me take care of you, when you share your beauty with me.” Tamayo punctuated her last sentence by caressing one of the scars littering Shinobu’s back.
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Shinobu muttered, failing to hide her blush in time to stop Tamayo from seeing it.
Tamayo leaned over Shinobu’s back to brush her lips against her lover’s ear. “You’re a delectable meal,” she whispered, squeezing Shinobu’s love-handles. “My adorable little butterfly.”
Then she bit Shinobu’s earlobe. Tamayo got up and scooted back to the foot of the bed. “Roll over for me?”
Shinobu did as requested, turning to lay on her back. Tamayo couldn't suppress her grin. Aside from her limbs, Shinobu’s front had the most significant scarring from her fight against Douma, and from her life as a slayer. Rare had been the demon who could out maneuver the Insect Hashira to land a blow upon her back.
The damage done to Shinobu’s body before Akaza had ripped her out of Douma’s arms was far from pretty. The scars were jagged, raised, and discolored. Tamayo was always careful to make sure her anger over Shinobu’s hurt never showed in moments like this.
Tamayo hated the actions that created these scars, but not the scars themselves.
Shinobu’s scars were a part of her, now and forever. They carried with them a painful memory, but they were a testament to Shinobu’s strength. They were evidence of her ability to survive against all odds. Tamayo thought that made the marks as gorgeous as the woman who carried them.
“The way you look at me,” Shinobu said, voice strained in an effort not to crack, “makes me feel beautiful.”
“That’s because you are beautiful,” Tamayo said, running her hands over scar, stretch mark, and smooth skin alike. “So much so that you take my breath away.”
Shinobu fisted her hand in Tamayo’s hair and pulled her down into a searing kiss. Electricity danced up Tamayo’s spine like the first drops of rain falling in a summer storm. It sent ripples of pleasure through her body as she pressed herself against Shinobu, enjoying the way their forms slotted neatly together.
Tamayo fit her knee between Shinobu’s legs and grinded down on her thigh. And oh, how sweet was her butterfly’s resulting moan of pleasure as she rolled her hips against Tamayo’s leg.
Shinobu untangled her hand from her lover’s hair to drag her nails down Tamayo’s back, leaving red trails in their wake.
Tamayo gasped with delight, then groaned with satisfaction when Shinobu slid her tongue along her teeth before shoving it demandingly farther into the doctor’s mouth.
This-- This is the side of Shinobu Tamayo loved to see the most. This passionate, dominant personality that was too often in hibernation since the final battle. Tamayo’s heart leapt with joy every time she saw her butterfly’s determination rise to the surface and take charge, and it all but soared through the heavens when she realized Shinobu’s passion for life was growing more and more prominent with each passing day.
Shinobu dug her nails deeply into Tamayo’s shoulder and broke their kiss for air.
Tamayo wrapped her arms under Shinobu’s head and pressed their foreheads together. “How are you feeling?” she asked, a little out of air. “Anything I can do to make it better?”
“Touch me!” Shinobu half ordered, half pleaded as she grabbed Tamayo’s hand and guided it to her breast.
Tamayo instantly granted her request, pinching and rolling Shinobu’s nipple just the way the hashira liked it. Then she bent down and swallowed up the unattended bud, swirling her tongue around it before sucking hard. Shinobu threaded her hand through Tamayo’s hair, trying to pull her to her other nipple. But Tamayo wasn’t done where she was, so she grabbed Shinobu’s wrist and pinned it above her head and bit her nipple reprovingly.
Shinobu gasped, half-pained, half-pleasured, and Tamayo grinded her leg into her lover’s groin. Tamayo finally switched nipples, giving her new victim a sharp nip before soothing it with her tongue.
Shinobu gasped and bucked her hips roughly against Tamayo’s thigh, smearing her arousal over her lover’s skin as she went quiet. Tamayo gave Shinobu’s abused breasts one last bite before sinking her teeth into the woman’s neck and sucking a mark into her skin. The remnants of the demon in her demanded that the world saw who this woman belonged to.
When she pulled back it was to see Shinobu in disarray, her hair mussed and sticking out at odd angles. Sweat beaded on her brow, rolling down her face like a diamond falling downhill.
Tamayo cradled Shinobu’s face in one hand and kissed her forehead, then her nose before burying her own in the crook of Shinobu's neck to inhale her scent. She smelt like wisteria, even after all this time, clean of the poison that had coursed through her veins. Where once it would have burned her nostrils and made her ill, it now intoxicated her with its sweetness, sending her heart into a flutter as Shinobu bucked her hips with greater determination.
Then Shinobu tensed--
She arched her back and cried out, rutting sporadically against Tamayo’s leg. Her face was flushed a beautiful scarlet, prettier than the sunrise. Her skin was drenched in sweat like a rose covered in morning dew as she collapsed limply against the bedsheets.
Tamayo leaned down and kissed her brow, then her cheek, and finally her lips.
Shinobu hummed against Tamayo’s mouth. “I want to taste you tonight.”
Tamayo smiled in anticipation. “How do you want me?”
“On your side.”
Having only one arm could make certain positions awkward and difficult to manage. Shinobu could eat Tamayo out with the woman on her back, but if she wanted to use her fingers alongside her tongue, it would quickly strain her neck.
With Tamayo on her side, leg up and out of the way, Shinobu could use her other thigh as a pillow and have free use of her hand. It did take a little bit of shuffling to set up, but it was more than worth it.
Once they were in place, Shinobu stroked Tamayo’s raised thigh appreciatively, her breath ghosting over her lover’s pussy in warm puffs. Tamayo’s gut tightened in excited anticipation. It was the anticipation that she both loved and hated the most. Those wonderfully painful moments before -- Shinobu was a master at them.
A gentle puff of breath placed just so, a careful caress here, a soft imprint of teeth there, and finally, a slow, broad lick from midthigh to dripping slit. But still Shinobu teased, barely parting Tamayo’s folds with her tongue before darting back out again. She repeated this, over and over, inching her way to Tamayo’s clit with painstaking care.
Tamayo shuddered and dug her fingers into the bedding for fear of tearing out Shinobu’s hair in impatience.
The Insect Hashira was slow and methodical in her work, lapping up her lover’s juices in long appreciative strokes over the length of her pussy.
Tamayo rolled her hips against Shinobu’s face. “ Please .”
Shinobu made a sound that was suspiciously similar to a laugh before teasingly parting Tamayo’s lower lips with her tongue to prod at her entrance.
“Shinobu,” Tamayo warned in a nearly demonic growl as she threaded her fingers through the other woman’s raven locks.
This time Shinobu made a satisfied sound as she wrapped her lips around Tamayo’s clit and sucked hard.
Tamayo groaned low in her throat, relief flooding her even as a new kind of tension built inside her.
She finally gave into the urge to pull on Shinobu’s hair to spur her on.
Shinobu grunted and rewarded Tamayo’s rough treatment by pressing two fingers into her as she circled the former demon’s clit with her dexterous tongue.
Tamayo melted into the dual sensations of her lover’s mouth and hand, jaw slack as she lost herself to Shinobu’s careful attention. A cord in her gut tightened shockingly fast, twisting around and around itself like a compressed spring, and like a spring, it could only bear so much tension before it snapped.
Tamayo bucked against Shinobu’s face, desperate to have the woman closer. She grasped her own breasts, longing to be held and touched even though she felt she might die if Shinobu stopped now.
Shinobu knew her lover’s body well by now, knew how to swirl her tongue just so, and how to time it with a pump and curl of her fingers that left Tamayo seeing stars.
Tamayo wanted to hold Shinobu in her arms, wanted to kiss her, love on her, look her in the eyes as she came. Tamayo whispered words of praise and affection in breathless tones as the coil inside her wound itself that much tighter until--
It snapped, and Tamayo rode on waves of pleasure, subtle at first, like the changing tides, but the waves slowly built in intensity until each one was a virtual tsunami capable of flooding even the highest of mountains. Tamayo had to bite her lip to stifle her screams of ecstasy.
“Sensitive tonight,” Shinobu whispered against Tamayo’s thigh when she came down from her peak. “Good.”
Tamayo shuddered at Shinobu’s tone.
It was hungry.
And she knew from experience that Shinobu had a demon’s appetite.