Page 69 of Kotori

The morning passes in a blur of domestic efficiency and business obligations.

The meeting with the Yamazaki group focuses on territory negotiations and supply chain logistics.

Mizuki's university planning session yields concrete application strategies and deadlines for law school entrance exams. The quarterly business review reveals steady growth across both legitimate and shadow operations.

Through it all, I move with the confidence of someone who's earned her place at the table.

I provide insights on international markets, offer diplomatic solutions to potential conflicts, and manage the complex social relationships that keep the yakuza ecosystem functioning smoothly.

No longer the frightened outsider, but a respected voice in our world.

"Successful day," Kaito observes as we finally retire to our private suite.

"Very. Though I think Yamazaki-san was shocked when I insisted on reviewing the protection contracts myself."

"And instead of backing down, you pointed out three vulnerabilities in his security arrangement that he hadn't considered." He sounds darkly pleased. "He told me afterward that you're becoming more dangerous than I am."

"Is that good or terrifying?"

"Both." His eyes darken with that familiar heat that pregnancy has only intensified. "It's exactly what makes you mine."

His hand finds my hips as I remove my jewelry, pulling me back against him. Even after a year of marriage, his touch ignites primal heat in me. My body responds instantly and pregnancy has only intensified my hunger for him.

"The doctor said it's still safe," I murmur, leaning back against his chest as his hands slide possessively over the curve of my belly.

"I know." His lips find that sensitive spot beneath my ear. "But I wasn't planning to be gentle tonight."

A shiver runs through me at the promise in his voice. This is the part of us that hasn't changed, a darkly possessive need that binds us together. The knowledge that beneath the veneer of civilized partnership lies something wilder, more dangerous. More honest.

"Good." I turn in his arms, meeting his gaze with equal intensity. "Because your wife requires her oyabun's full attention."

His smile turns predatory. "Demanding."

"You love it."

"I love you ." He says it directly, words once impossible from his lips now offered freely. "Every fierce part of you."

The silk sheets stick to my damp skin as I lie beside him, breath coming in shallow gasps.

My wrists throb where his hands pinned them above my head.

My throat feels raw from his teeth, the precise pressure that balanced between pleasure and pain.

When I shift my hips, the slick evidence of his claiming trickles down my inner thigh.

"Spread your legs," Kaito commands, voice rough as gravel.

I obey instantly, body responding to his authority without thought. Pregnancy has heightened every sensation, made me desperate for his touch.

His fingers trace the tender skin of my inner thigh, collecting the mixture of our releases. I watch, transfixed, as he brings his glistening fingertips to my lips.

"Taste us," he murmurs.

My tongue darts out obediently, the salt-sweet flavor making me moan softly. His eyes darken at the sound, pupils dilating as he watches me clean his fingers.

"Even pregnant with my child, you remain insatiable," he says, satisfaction evident in his voice. "My perfect match."

He lowers his mouth to the curve of my breast, lips closing around my sensitive nipple.

The sensation shoots straight to my core, making me arch against him despite the trembling exhaustion in my limbs.

His tongue flicks expertly against the hardened peak while his hand slides between my legs again, finding me impossibly wet and swollen.

"Kaito-sama," I gasp, the honorific slipping out as it always does when he reduces me to pure sensation. "I can't."

"You can," he contradicts, fingers finding that perfect rhythm he's mastered over our months together. "And you will. Once more for your husband."

My body obeys him even when my mind thinks it impossible, pleasure building again under his relentless attention. When his teeth graze my nipple at the exact moment his thumb circles my clit, I shatter completely, back bowing off the bed as I cry out his name.

He covers my mouth with his, swallowing my sounds of pleasure as his fingers work me through the aftershocks. Only when the last tremor subsides does he release me, looking down with possessive pride at what he's reduced me to.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye with his thumb.

I lie boneless against the pillows, utterly spent, as he reaches for the damp cloth beside the bed. With careful attention, he cleans the evidence of our passion from my thighs, his touch turning gentle now that he's satisfied his need to dominate.

My skin bears the physical map of his desire—red marks from his mouth along my collarbone, the imprint of his fingers on my hips, the tender ache between my legs that will remind me of him with every step tomorrow. His ownership written in a language only we can read.

We lie in satisfied silence for several minutes, his fingers continuing their lazy exploration of my sensitized skin. Outside, Kyoto sleeps under a canopy of stars, unaware that within these walls, the most feared man in the city has surrendered to something far more dangerous than violence.

Eventually, his hand finds its way to my rounded belly, the touch entirely different now. The shift from dominant lover to expectant father happens in an instant, yet seems entirely natural for this complex man.

"I can't wait to meet him," he says quietly, his voice now free of the commanding edge that had marked our earlier activities. "Or her. Though I admit I'm hoping for a boy."

"I know you are. And honestly? So am I. The idea of giving you the son you've dreamed of..." I cover his hand with mine, feeling the definite kick of a tiny foot or hand against our palms. "Either way, this child will be the most protected, most feared, most loved heir in Kyoto."

"By all of us. The girls are already planning his education."

"Aya wants to teach the baby about art and flowers. Kohana's creating a music appreciation curriculum. Mizuki's already compiled a reading list of legal classics suitable for infants."

He laughs, the sound rich and free in a way it never was when I first met him. "Of course she has."

We lie together in comfortable silence, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin. Outside our windows, Kyoto sleeps while the most powerful yakuza family in three generations prepares for its future.

I think about the terrified woman who knocked on his door eighteen months ago, desperate for any job. She never imagined the dangerous man offering temporary salvation would become her husband, her match in every way.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, fingers tracing the curve of my shoulder.

"How perfectly we corrupted each other," I answer honestly. "You gave me power. I gave you vulnerability. Somehow we both won."

"We're not finished yet," he reminds me, hand sliding possessively over my belly. "This is just the beginning of our legacy."

I smile in the darkness, thinking of all we've built together. The empire we're expanding. The daughters we're raising to be formidable women. The son—I'm certain it's a son—growing beneath his father's protective hand.

This is just the beginning.

Not the ending of a fairy tale, but the continuation of something much more interesting. A story of power and choice, violence and tenderness, darkness embraced rather than defeated.

Our kind of dark, depraved happily ever after.