The suite was quiet, draped in warm golden lamplight, with the distant hum of city life murmuring through the balcony doors. Hina Valentine sat on the velvet couch with her legs crossed, wine glass in hand, her expression a blend of intrigue and dominance. She wore a satin robe, barely tied, her skin glowing with the faintest sheen of anticipation. Kenji stood across the room, freshly showered, a towel hanging low on his waist, his body still damp and glistening.
"You're good," Hina said, swirling the crimson wine in her glass, eyes flicking from his abs to his eyes. "But I want to see how much better you can get."
Kenji raised a brow. "You want to train me?"
She smirked, setting the glass down. "Think of it as… personalized mentorship. You're rising too fast, baby boy. Someone's got to make sure you don't burn out."
The words were teasing, but her gaze was sharp, measured. Kenji crossed the room slowly, like a predator testing the air, then dropped to his knees before her, placing his palms gently on her knees.
"Then teach me, Valentine."
Her breath hitched faintly, but she recovered fast. She leaned back, legs parting subtly beneath the robe. "Lesson one: control."
Kenji kissed the inside of her thigh—once, slow—and she inhaled softly. He moved upward, his lips exploring her skin like a musician warming up before a performance. Hina placed a hand in his hair, guiding him with a mixture of restraint and command.
"Don't rush," she whispered. "You touch a woman like you're reading her mind. Every reaction? Every breath? Learn it. Use it."
He followed her command with reverence, his tongue tracing gentle paths up her thighs, his hands gripping her hips with the restraint of a sculptor. She unknotted her robe herself, letting it fall open, revealing a body that had graced the covers of international magazines. But now, it was his canvas.
He worshipped her slowly. He took his time, learning her gasps, her nails digging into his scalp when he hit the right rhythm. He didn't speak—his mouth was too busy giving her everything she demanded and more. Her thighs clenched around his head as her breathing faltered, rising in a wave of sweet agony until she gripped the couch's edge, her moans melodic and raw.
When she finally came, her body shuddered beneath him. She didn't scream—she exhaled his name like a drug, like she was high on him.
"Again," she whispered, pulling him up by his hair. "I want more."
He didn't hesitate.
This time, she rode him. Slow at first, grinding on his lap while her lips whispered filthy praise into his ear. Her body moved with practiced grace, but her moans—those were real, growing louder with each bounce. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist, their mouths meeting in a kiss that tasted like heat and wine.
She clenched around him, nails dragging down his back.
"You want to be the best?" she whispered between panting breaths.
"Yeah," he groaned.
"Then fuck like it."
He flipped her over, pressing her into the couch cushions, his hips slamming into her with the rhythm of a rising star making his mark. She cried out now—her pride slipping, her body surrendering. They moved as one, sweat-slicked and ravenous.
By the end, Hina was sprawled, breathless, hair a mess across the cushions. Kenji collapsed beside her, his body warm and humming with energy.
"Lesson two?" he asked, voice hoarse.
She turned her head slowly, a crooked grin on her lips. "You passed. But next time, we film it."
He chuckled, resting his hand on her bare stomach. The warmth between them lingered—not just lust, but a shared understanding.
This wasn't just sex. It was the forging of chemistry. Power.
The next day, Kenji walked into the agency like a storm. Rumors had already spread—Hina's glow-up, the private session, the heat in her eyes when she looked at him.
Carmilla Vayne passed him in the hallway, sunglasses on. She paused, lowered them just enough to flash a sly smirk.
"Valentine doesn't usually repeat partners. You must be something special."
He didn't answer. He just kept walking.
He had more to prove. And his legend was only beginning.