Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Ayame’s Claim

The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the quiet village road. Haruto walked home with his bag slung over his shoulder, thoughts still lingering on Miyu’s sudden flight from the library. Her face, her trembling hands—it was impossible to forget.

But before his mind could sink too deep, a sharp voice cut through the air.

"There you are, Haruto!"

He turned just in time for Ayame to stride up, her skirt swaying as if even the wind knew how bold she was. She stopped in front of him, hands on her hips, her grin bright and unapologetic.

"You’ve been avoiding me lately, haven’t you?" she accused, leaning forward until her face was inches from his. "Don’t think I didn’t notice."

Haruto blinked, caught off guard by her sudden energy. "Avoiding you? I’ve just been busy—"

"Liar." Her eyes narrowed, though there was a mischievous sparkle in them. "Busy with someone else, right?"

Her words carried more sting than play, though she masked it with a smirk. Haruto opened his mouth to reply, but Ayame stepped closer, invading his space so naturally that his breath caught.

"You promised," she whispered suddenly, her tone softer but far more dangerous. "Remember? That what happened between us would stay just between us."

Her fingers brushed lightly against his wrist, almost too casually—but the contact sent a quiet jolt through him.

Haruto searched her eyes. She wasn’t angry exactly, but there was a flicker of possessiveness in her gaze, a claim she wasn’t willing to let go of.

"...Ayame," he said slowly, "are you jealous?"

Her cheeks colored instantly, though her mouth curved into a cocky grin to cover it. "Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just making sure you don’t forget who was first."

Ayame’s boldness pressed against Haruto’s thoughts, forcing Miyu’s shadow aside. She was fire to Miyu’s trembling glass, heat where Miyu was hesitant.

And Ayame wasn’t planning to back down.

The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in orange and violet streaks. Haruto had almost reached the bridge when Ayame suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Come with me," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He barely had time to protest before she tugged him off the path, pulling him down a narrow trail that led to the riverside. The sound of rushing water grew louder until they broke through the thicket and stood by the bank, half-hidden by tall reeds.

"Ayame—what are you—"

"Shh." She pressed a finger against his lips, her grin daring. "You talk too much."

Her other hand was already sliding down his arm, stopping at his hand as if she owned it. She backed him up against a tree trunk, pinning him with nothing but her presence. The glow of sunset lit her eyes, making them glimmer with mischief.

"You’ve been too distracted," she murmured, leaning close enough that her breath tickled his ear. "Thinking of someone else... but I won’t allow it."

Before Haruto could respond, Ayame’s hands moved lower, boldly brushing his thigh. His breath caught as the contact grew more deliberate, the press of her body leaving no space between them.

"Ayame... we’re outside," he hissed, his voice betraying a shiver of excitement.

"Exactly." Her smirk widened. "Anyone could walk by. The idea of it... doesn’t it make your heart race?"

She tilted her head, her lips ghosting over his jawline. Her hands toyed at the edge of his waistband, tugging just enough to make him jolt.

The river’s murmur was the only witness as Ayame whispered, "Let me remind you who you belong to, Haruto."

Her boldness burned, dangerously intoxicating. Every touch was a claim, every daring move designed to leave him no escape.

The river roared beside them, its surface glowing under the fading sun. The air was damp, charged with the sound of cicadas and rushing water. Against the rough bark of the tree, Haruto’s back pressed hard as Ayame leaned in close, her body hot and unyielding.

"You’re mine tonight," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Before he could react, her hand slid down boldly, cupping him through his pants. Haruto stiffened, a sharp breath escaping as she squeezed—slow, deliberate, daring.

"Ayame—! We’re outside—someone could—"

"That’s the thrill, Haruto." She smirked, stroking harder, feeling him swell beneath her touch. "The risk of being caught... doesn’t it make you harder?"

Her words struck deep, her teasing voice as dangerous as her hand. She unzipped him with a swift tug, and the cool evening air hit his length as she freed him from his pants. Her eyes glinted with hunger as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking slow, deliberate circles along the shaft.

The sight of his flushed face, his teeth biting his lip, only fueled her.

"God, you’re burning," she breathed, jerking him faster. "You’ve been aching for me, haven’t you?"

Haruto’s breath grew ragged, his hands gripping her waist as if begging her to slow—but Ayame had no intention of mercy. She pressed her chest against his, her lips claiming his in a messy, biting kiss. At the same time, her strokes grew wilder, her thumb teasing the sensitive tip, smearing precum along his length.

The rush of water nearly drowned his groans, but not completely. Anyone walking nearby could’ve heard the desperate noises spilling from his throat.

"You’re about to lose it, aren’t you?" she teased, her pace unrelenting. "Right here, where anyone could see..."

Haruto bucked against her hand, his hips jerking helplessly. Ayame kissed his neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks, her hand pumping him to the edge of madness.

"Say it," she demanded, biting his ear. "Say you’re mine."

His voice cracked, low and needy: "Ayame—I’m yours."

The words pushed her over, her strokes growing brutal until his whole body trembled. He climaxed hard, spilling across her hand and dripping down his shaft, the evidence of his release dangerously exposed in the open air.

Ayame licked her lips, her grin feral, wiping her sticky fingers across his shirt as a wicked reminder.

"Good boy," she whispered, kissing him again. "Now you’ll never forget who owns you."

The roar of the river swallowed the last of his moans, leaving only their heavy breathing in the dusk.