Yuki blinked in surprise, still half-leaning over her, barely any space between the both of them. He could feel her ass pressing tightly against his cock. Yuki’s hands went for her waist, leaning her more into the chair. "You like it like this?" He whispered into her ears and there ca a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Or should I go lower? You know..."
She raised her head backwards, her lips thinning into a smile. "Huh?" Her eyes widened as if reality had just caught up with her. She abruptly pushed against his chest, holding down the skimpy skirt to her mid thigh level. "What do you an?"
Yuki reeled back slightly, startled that the once heated mont changed abruptly into an awkward situation. "I thought you wanted my cock."
"Uhm, are you out of your mind?" she snapped, her voice sharp as she slid out from under him, and began adjusting her clothing.
"What the heck...?" Yuki muttered, blinking in confusion. He stood there montarily watching as she packed up her things into a rainbow colored handbag on the passenger seat.
Without another word, the woman gathered her bag, brushing her moist palm against the skirt, and stepped out of the car in silence. Yuki watched her slam the car door shut without a backward glance, the click of her heels fading toward the house. The silence that followed was deafening.
She didn’t even turn to look at him. Not even a thank you... Just nothing.
How awkward!
Yuki’s head followed the throbbing erection on his pants that ford a visible bulge in the middle and he cursed softly, falling backwards on the car. "Fuck, I swear I heard her say that..." He mumbled under his breath, still frozen in place. "Or... am I reading minds now?"
He crouched even deeper, rubbing both hands over his face before dragging them through his tousled hair. "Shit... How will I walk into the house knowing that she is around. She literally wanted my cock! Or...maybe that damn video ga is starting to ss with my sanity."
His reflection in the rearview mirror stared back at him — wide-eyed, dazed, and just the slightest bit flustered.
"Did she say it out loud? Or was it in my head?" He groaned, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Damn it, Yuki. Get it together."
Yuki slapped both his cheeks until they flushed red, as if trying to physically knock so sense back into himself. He took a deep breath, adjusted the waistband of his pants awkwardly, and finally stepped out of the car.
The afternoon sun was already casting long shadows across the mansion’s stone driveway. The front door half opened before he could reach for the handle. "I was just about to get you. Well co in, Yuki. Don’t let the cold air waste. " Kaito gestured in with his left hand to his chest and the right holding the door open.
Yuki was still slightly dazed, but nodded back. "Hey..." He stepped in, his feet on the carpet dusting off. Kaito gestured toward the foyer. "Please, change into house slippers. There’s a spare on the left for visitors and do shelf your shoes in the rack on your right."
Yuki took off his shoes, the cool marble beneath his soles making him feel at ease. He walked over to the shoe rack. From the texture and appearance it was made more of the famous handcrafted African Blackwood. "Fancy," He muttered under his breath as he shelved his sneakers carefully into one of the lower compartnts.
He slid his feet into the neatly arranged leather slippers, surprisingly soft and his perfect size. "Right this way, Yuki" Kaito’s words brought Yuki out of his thoughts.
"Allow to give you a brief tour." Yuki followed the footsteps of Kaito, eyes roaming around the interior—tall ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, expensive lighting fixtures that probably cost more than his organs. "This is the dining room," Kaito said, pushing open a grand double door that revealed a long table beneath a crystal chandelier. "Seats sixteen. Used mostly for formal gatherings."
Yuki nodded, trying not to gape.
They moved on to the living room—modern, cozy, but with massive couches and a built-in entertainnt system with screen panels tucked into the walls.
"And this," Kaito gestured again, "is the study room. Madam Katashi has designated it for your tutoring with Renji. Please do feel at ease and you may use it freely."
Yuki stepped in. The space was nearly three tis the size of his bedroom back at his parents’ place. Rows of bookshelves reached the ceiling, all stacked with aged hardcovers and glossy first editions. A rich scent of leather and parchnt filled the air.
Further to the bookshelves, was a black and brown stripped wooden table with four designer chairs which he noticed from the brand na imprint on the center. "How about the restroom?"
"There’s a restroom just down the corridor," Kaito added casually, "in case you need to freshen up before lunch."
Yuki turned, still processing the grandeur. "Yeah... yeah, sure. This place is insane."
Kaito gave a brief, knowing smile. "Now then, Yuki, what would you like for lunch? We have a full nu today—Japanese, Italian, French, or perhaps a fusion?"
"Uh..." Yuki scratched his head, blinking. "I’ll think about it..."
"One more thing," Kaito said, already halfway toward another hallway, "Renji went to take his shower, if you could you please get Master Renji from his room, It’s just upstairs, second door on the right, I would really appreciate. Knowing who he is, he might not co downstairs until you get tired."
Yuki sighed, and in his mind wondered if Renji would listen to him. Renji was a pain in the ass for the two and a half year he had him as his roommate. Never around, and when around, he is either with girls or just ssing up on his bed with videogas.
Yuki sighed, dragging a hand through his hair before glancing at Kaito. "I’ll try to get him, Mr. Kaito."
Kaito gave a small chuckle and shook his head. "Just call Kaito. No need to be so formal around ," he said with a friendly smile, giving Yuki a firm pat on the back. "You’ve got this," he added before turning and disappearing down the corridor, likely toward the kitchen or his endless list of duties.
Now left alone in the grand study room, Yuki exhaled deeply. The silence was almost intimidating—just the subtle hum of air conditioning and the faint creak of old wood beneath his steps. His eyes scanned the room, searching for an outlet.
Near the far end of the bookcase, partly hidden behind a leather armchair, he found one. He crouched and plugged his phone in, letting it charge while he stood upright and gave himself a mont to ntally prep.
"Second door on the right," he muttered, walking toward the staircase.
The hallway upstairs was even more quiet, the soft click of his slippers the only sound. He reached the door—second on the right, just as Kaito had said—and rapped his knuckles lightly against it.
No response.
Yuki twisted the knob and let himself in.
The room was dim, thick blackout curtains drawn across the windows despite the sun outside. The only light ca from the glow of a massive flat screen at the foot of the bed.
Renji lay sprawled across his mattress, one hand behind his head, the other clutching a ga controller. Earplugs were jamd into his ears, and his expression was locked in intense focus.
"Hey," Yuki called out, stepping inside and stopping at the edge of the plush rug. "Dude, get up from your bed, okay?"
Renji’s only reaction was a brief glance out of the corner of his eye. With a sigh, he paused the ga and removed just the right earplug.
"Bruh," Renji said lazily, not even sitting up. "My mom pays you to tutor , not inconvenience . My last tutor knew when he was stepping in too much. I’m quick to fire people—so fuck off and let rest."
Yuki stared at him, brows raised. For a second, he felt like laughing at the sheer audacity, but he kept a straight face. He knew Renji’s type—spoiled, unbothered, and well-aware of how much power his last na carried in this house.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Yuki muttered under his breath, arms folding across his chest.
But instead of walking away, he simply said, "You done ranting? Or should I wait for you to finish your ’I’m-the-prince’ speech before dragging your ass downstairs?"
Renji didn’t even flinch. "Fuck you, and also do slam the damn door on your way out."
Yuki’s jaw ticked out of impatience. He wasn’t usually the type to get riled up by rich brats with too much money and too little discipline, but sothing about Renji’s smug tone just hit the wrong nerve.
"You are sothing else honestly. Vice Chancellor Kurosawa literally almost expelled you for tampering with your results—and let’s not forget, fucking the person in charge of entering the grades. You might be the rich guy, but don’t fool yourself. The only reason the school keeps you around is because your mom holds shares. That’s it."
Renji slowly sat up in bed, the controller slipping to his lap. His expression darkened dazed that Yuki had the balls to speak to him in such a deaning manner.
"That’s exactly why she can’t expel ," Renji growled, eyes narrowing. "I own 12.5% of that school, Yuki. Twelve point five fucking percent. You see, money brings fa, riches... and pleasure. No motherfucker of a lecturer can question about why I didn’t co for class, or why I didn’t do their precious assignnts or so dumbass project work."
He leaned forward, a crooked grin forming.
"Because they all know... I fucking pay them."
"...."
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