His lips traced her neck; her breath hitched. His hand glided across her thigh and the room seemed to spin out of proportion. Her eyes were half-lidded; breathing sorely uneven. She could hardly think. All she could focus was on him and the feeling of his hands. It felt good. He felt good. She swallowed thickly. Words of refraining from involvement rang through her mind yet she disregarded it. Shinya was not bad, she had decided, he wouldn't hurt her. Though she was aware that anyone would find such a statement questionable, what with the way they were sprawled across her desk. Her legs were splayed open and his knee was in between her legs. His hands rested on either side of her. He was close, so close she felt dizzy, lost, confused, and left with a sense of desire she had never felt before. She didn't consider this bad, nor did she consider him a beast despite how close he was. Despite the dark marks he left upon her neck, despite how his teeth glided across her throat, despite the animalistic desire within his gaze as he studied her. She didn't mind these things, she still felt he wasn't something to repulsed. Her fingers were entangled within his hair and a soft groan escaped from her parted lips as his tongue slid over the bruises left upon her neck. One would be worried about concealing them later, about what their peers' reaction would be upon seeing such marks, yet the thought escaped her. Sense escaped her. Rationality abandoned. All she needed was him, he was the center of her world. What he thought, she wasn't sure. She couldn't be positive of what he was thinking as his nails dragged upon her hitched skirt and lowered stockings. There was no way for her to truly comprehend what sentiments lay behind his actions as that very hand slid to brush against her womanhood. She was unsure; he was dangerous, difficult to comprehend, and he contradicted himself.

And she loved it.

Perhaps it was the uncertainty of it all that thrilled her. Perhaps it was because of how he could change, how he could smile at her or support her, then become something operating on something akin to impulse and lust. He cared, though, she knew he cared, despite how uncertain the whole situation seemed. His hand dipped into her panties; fingers rubbing her opening. Akane could only respond with a loud moan; hand covering her mouth. She squeezed her tightly shut. She didn't struggle when he opened her legs more, when he lowered her panties and moved his head in between her legs. She didn't speak out once his tongue traced over her opening and further beyond. She didn't argue. She just moaned and felt. It was strange to feel-to truly feel-to subject herself to such a dark and foreign emotion. She knew this was wrong, that their positions were not right for such an interaction. Yet, she was quite sure that neither of them would have been able to hold back much longer. When he touched her in work; a careful brush of the arms or hands, a simple nudge, it spoke of something more. As if he needed something. At the time: she hadn't been sure of what. Shinya had been so stoic, so strange to her with an overall serious expression that gave way to tender moments. Eventually she had drawn the conclusion that what he wanted was her. Coming to terms with the fact hadn't been easy, for she had been quite sure it had been an odd notion of her imagination. But she had decided it firmly, confronted him, he had agreed, things had happened (that she could hardly recall at present), and they had entered this position.

Her thoughts were nonexistent as she came into him. She was gripping his disheveled shirt tightly within her fingers; panting, groaning his name, still wanting to feel him. Still wanting him. He was important to her. Shinya watched her; his gaze sliding into that same desire as if it had never left. As if what had just happened had not satisfied him, though she was quite sure it had satisfied more than one urge. He moved over her; his fingers prying her hand away from her mouth. She had expected something rough, something possessive, something lustful like the previous gestures. Unprepared she had been for his thumb tracing her lips. His gaze pierced hers; the contact was held for a few tense moments. As if words were simply a commodity used in such situations. Neither of them spoke and she was alright with that. It had given the young Inspector a minute to regain her thoughts, to revisit what had just happened. Another unexpected move had been made and she found herself hugged to his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair gingerly, as if she were something delicate to be taken care of. Akane blushed softly at the feeling, silently comparing the gentle touch to the impulsive and dark kisses from moments prior. She was struck with the difference. Just as she had been struck in seeing him work, struck in seeing him perform detainment of criminals like the beast many described him as. Except, she did not perceive him a beast. He could not be a beast, not in the way he was holding her, anyways. It made her feel safe, protected, cared for, and she enjoyed the feeling. It was then she truly felt that what others said hardly mattered. He was not a monster.