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It’s been 200 days.
If she wanted to be exact about it, it‘s been 200 days, fifty nine events, and twenty one public dates. She doesn’t even remember if she’s ever been with anyone for this long before. And the fact that this was all just an elaborate, long-play PR stunt was to credit for the longevity of this relationship probably did not say a lot of good about the two of them.
They had met about a year ago during a tech conference in Seattle and had been seated next to each other during a banquet. Seto Kaiba had always had quite a reputation, having taken over and drastically reformed Kaiba Corporation. He was also rather infamous for being quite standoffish and frankly quite abrasive. She had been worried she would find his company unpleasant, but they had ended up getting along rather swimmingly during the banquet. She could admit that it didn’t hurt that he was devastatingly handsome.
A week after they had met, KaibaCorp signed a deal with her company, with the latter becoming the exclusive supplier of the gaming giant’s microchips. She and Seto had since kept a regular correspondence and would frequently see each other in industry and charity events. Where Seto could be quite cold and borderline rude, she had always found it easy to work a room and charm others. Her personality, however, tended to also make men want to try and get a little too friendly with her. While she was quite adept at fending off advances, there were still men who refused to be put off. It was an incident with such a man where she and Seto had come to be better friends.
Carter Piers was one of the vice presidents of a prominent hedge fund company, handsome in that obvious kind of way: tall, slight build, very pleasant features. He didn’t frequent tech industry events, but he would sometimes be in attendance at galas and balls. She never really minded his company, but for that particular event, it seemed Piers had one too many glasses of whiskey and had been bolder than usual in his advances. As usual, she had politely accepted his invitation to dance. He had tried to get a little handsy, but she was always very good with subtly adjusting herself and her partner so that their touches always remained chaste and appropriate. However, towards the end of the song, she had felt his grip on her waist tighten, the look in his eyes becoming ravenous as he leaned way too close for polite company, “You’re always so good with keeping me at arm’s length, you little minx.”
She had stiffened and tried to push him away as subtly as she could, but it only seemed to encourage him more. She had felt the bile rise up in her throat and panic fill her when she realized he seemed to have no qualms about causing a scandal. She was about to give up on preserving their reputations and just yelling for help, when she saw another hand come between herself and Piers, firmly pushing the man away. She then felt a warm, firm grip on her arm gently pull her away and she looked up to the cold blue eyes of Seto Kaiba. The young CEO’s eyes shone with barely contained fury as he stared Piers down, “I believe I was promised this next dance, Piers. I’ll have to steal her away.”
With not so much as a by your leave, Kaiba expertly whisked her away from the Englishman and guided her through a waltz across the ballroom. She felt herself relax against his hold and she finally glanced up at him, ready to thank him for intervening. Her words got caught in her throat, however, when she saw him glaring down at her, “You don’t have to dance with every man who asks you.”
She frowned at him, her gratitude forgotten, “You know as well as I do that I can’t turn down everyone without offending them. It’s not fair, but that’s the world we operate in.”
“I do know,” he said, his blue eyes once again flashing in annoyance, “These rich, pompous assholes think that your being a rich, single woman is invitation enough for them.”
“Kaiba, you’re one of those rich, pompous assholes.”
He scoffed, “I’m not trying to get into your skirts.”
Any other woman would have blushed, or maybe have been offended that he didn’t seem interested in her. She, however, laughed, both unsurprised by his bluntness and surprised by how he had said it so matter of factly, “That’s actually very refreshing.”
She spent the rest of that evening in his company, which, she found, was a very effective deterrent to would-be dance partners. He even did her the favor of waiting for her chauffeur to pull up before calling his own, saying he might as well make sure she got to her car safely without incident. She had thanked him sincerely, reaching up to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. He had seemed a little surprised at her show of gratitude, but had merely snorted softly after she had pulled away to duck into her car, “Someone had to keep those hounds away. Get home safe.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised when, a couple of days later, his PR team had reached out to hers with an interesting proposal: for she and Kaiba to announce that they were dating, with the goal of making Kaiba more appealing to investors as a man looking to maybe eventually settling down (and it didn’t hurt that it was with another tech giant) and making her more desirable to others by becoming both taken by the most eligible bachelor in Japan and by becoming unavailable to the advances of other men. It was such a simple solution to a number of their problems. Soon after they had defined the terms of the arrangement, the two were “spotted” having an intimate dinner at one of the hottest restaurants in Tokyo, sending the media and the public into a frenzy.
What they failed to account for, she realized, was how their practiced intimacy and affection in public would gradually, naturally start to spill over into their interactions behind closed doors. Because of the close relations of their two companies, it wasn’t unusual for them to meet up fairly regularly for work. He also had made it his rule midway through their fake relationship that he ought to be the one to take her to and from events, to add to their authenticity as a couple.
She failed to notice it until, one day, she became just acutely aware of everything about him. He always placed his hand in the small of her back or on her arm whenever they were walking around in public. If it wasn’t either, he’d still be touching her one way or another, and it was all just so natural that she also just naturally reciprocated it. A lingering touch, a closed distance, a soft murmured conversation that was not unusual between known lovers. And somehow – she wasn’t sure when it started – even when it was just the two of them, it seemed wrong to not be touching each other somehow. When they were seated in the back seat of his car, their fingers would remain interlaced as he took calls and as she reviewed documents on her tablet. When he walked her to her door, his hand would always be warm on the small of her back, sure and steady. And although the chances of paparazzi somehow following them into her well-guarded residential building to catch a private moment between the two on film were slim, she always bid him farewell with a chaste kiss on his cheek. Neither of them ever remarked on how they continued their act even when there were no spectators.
That evening had been especially difficult for her. They had flown together to Chicago for a conference and had just attended a fellowship night with the rest of their peers. Seto had been in fine form that evening, looking especially dapper in a custom fit Tom Ford suit. He also seemed even more affectionate than usual with her, which she supposed was because he had received an award that evening and he was just in a really great mood. He had leaned into her ear more than a couple of times that night to whisper hilariously dry, biting commentary about their colleagues. His warm breath made her shiver each time and if he noticed, he didn’t let it show. She had also reached up a number of times to right his already impeccable appearance, from brushing back a bit of his hair, to straightening his already perfectly placed tie. When they danced, it felt like he drew her even closer to himself than usual. And instead of leading her off to the side when a slower song came on, he had enveloped her into his arms and gently swayed them side to side. Neither of them questioned it. Her heart had fluttered around like a drunk butterfly the entire time and she wondered if he knew.
Now, as they made their way to their adjacent suites, it felt like her nerve-endings had become exquisitely sensitive to his touch. His hand was around her waist, long fingers absentmindedly drawing lazy circles through the silky fabric. She herself was leaning against him, head comfortably pressed against his chest. She wondered if their slowing pace was deliberate as they neared their doors.
They stopped upon reaching the entryway to her room. She slowly extracted herself from his side and hesitated for a moment before she tiptoed to brush her lips against his cheek in their customary goodbye. As she drew away, she felt her breath catch as his arm found its way around her again, keeping her close. She looked up at him, surprised, and he met her questioning gaze with a scorching one of his own, breathing out in a pained voice, “I’m sorry, but this is driving me crazy. You’re driving me crazy.”
She didn’t dare move as his other hand reached up to brush her hair away from her face, bringing his face close to hers, eyes sliding shut, “Tell me you don’t want this. Say no, and we’ll never speak of this again.”
She reached up and cradled his face in her hands, “I want this.”
Surprised, he pulled away for a moment, as if to read her eyes for sincerity, and then, finally, closed the distance between them, his hand at her nape guiding her to him. And for the first time in their 200 days of putting up the charade of a couple in love, his lips met hers. He kissed her softly, gently, as if he wasn’t quite sure this was happening and he didn’t want to scare her away. But as he felt her gently press her lips back against his, he sighed and deepened the kiss.
She brushed her fingertips against his high cheekbones as his tongue caressed hers, movements slow and languorous, which was such a stark contrast from his usual quick, efficient nature. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world. He kissed her like he wanted to sear himself into her soul just through the feel of their lips, tongues and teeth. When they finally surfaced to breathe, she gripped his shoulder to steady herself, “Would you like to come in?”
He reached into her purse and pulled out her keycard, beeping them in. The moment he closed the door, he strode towards her, eyes full of a dangerous promise. She met him halfway, fingers wrapping around the lapels of his suit and tugging him down to her. She felt electric as he kissed her thoroughly, guiding her backwards towards the direction of her bedroom, hands searing hot through the thin material of her gown. Upon entering her room, he pulled away and raked his gaze down her body before meeting her eyes again, his pupils blown with desire, “God, you’re going to be my undoing.”
She didn’t trust herself to answer him, so she just reached up and pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground, and then turning her attention to the buttons of his shirt. He huffed and helped her with the buttons, shrugging off the offending garment and reaching for her. She placed her hands against his torso, feeling the hard planes and the velvety warm skin that seemed to grow even warmer under her touch. His hands made quick work of the zipper of her gown and it slithered down her form into a silky pile at her feet. She made a move to slip her feet out of her heels, but he leaned down to leave a trail of hot kisses down her throat, “Don’t. Leave them on.”
His heavy, lust-addled voice went straight to her core and she moaned as he sucked at the skin beneath her collar bone, leaving a small purple mark there, “So beautiful. And all mine.”
He slid her underwear down as she tugged off his belt and undid his pants. He kicked off his trousers and picked her up, holding her core flush against his as he walked them to the bed. She moved her hips tentatively, causing both of them to moan as her core slid against his firm, girthy length through his boxers. He let out a strangled groan and met her movement with a thrust of his own before he lay her down gently on the bed. She started to reach up to bring his head back down to hers for another kiss, but he suddenly slid down her body, causing her eyes to widen. Running his hands down her thighs, he looked up at her, a small smirk on his face, before he parted her legs and brought his face into her heat. She gasped as she felt his tongue take its first trip up her folds, hot and lazy. He hummed into her, “I’ve been dreaming of this for weeks.”
She propped herself up with her elbows, watching breathlessly as he began to trace circles on her clit with his tongue, occasionally running his tongue down her slit and back up. She tossed her head back as his finger joined his tongue without warning, sliding the long digit inside slowly then slowly gliding it back out, “You’re so fucking wet and ready for me. Fuck .”
He continued to thrust his finger in and out of her slowly, adding his thumb to massage her clit, as he made his way up to her chest, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth. The combined sensations nearly caused her to black out, her arms failing her as she fell back, gasping. He continued to lick, tease and tug gently at one breast and then the other, adding another finger to his ministrations of her core, “So good. So beautiful.”
The growled praise undid her, as she felt her body tense and stretch, something inside her curling with an intense heat and then crashing through her like a wave. He caught her cry with a kiss, his fingers unrelenting. She blinked up, dazed, at him as she emerged from her orgasm, feeling his fingers slow, as if easing her back down gently from her high. He met her lips again in a hot kiss, before pulling away to gaze down at her, “My beautiful, good girl.”
“Seto. God. Want you,” she breathed out, fingers trailing down his torso to his boxers, tugging at it. He slid it off, his length now in full view. It was thick and long, just as it had felt against her, and she reached out to grasp it. He shuddered out a breath as her fingers closed around his cock, thumb slowly smearing the precum around the head, “Fuck.”
She started to move her fingers up and down his length when he grasped her wrists, “It feels so good, but I’m so close already. I want to be inside you.”
He stepped away from her to quickly retrieve a condom from one of his pockets, sliding it on and coming back to hover over her. He brought his forehead down against hers as he positioned himself at her opening, “Are you sure about this?”
She reached up to push his hair away from his face and tugged him down for a soft kiss, “Absolutely sure. Seto, fuck me .”
His lips crashed down on hers as she felt his tip slide up and down her folds before pushing into her, causing her to gasp at the feel of him. He slid himself all the way in, filling her and drawing another moan from both of them. He slid out again and called her name, “Eyes on me, love.”
At the term of affection, he thrust into her, this time shallowly. Bringing himself out, he guided himself to slide up and down her folds again, the sweet pressure on her clit driving her mad. He repeated the movement as their breaths grew shallower. Her eyes started to close when he paused, his fingers gently grasping her chin so her eyes met his, “Eyes on me.”
She nodded obediently, keeping her eyes fixed on his deep blue gaze. He then pulled her knees up and started to thrust with more gusto, each time hitting her deeper and harder. From measured movements, his pace became more frenzied, her name leaving his lips like hushed prayers, his body worshiping hers. Her fingers curled against his back as she again neared her peak. Seto moaned out her name one last time as he found his release, with her orgasm following close behind. He caught her lips in his as his cock throbbed inside her, before bringing his body slowly down on top of her, careful not to crush her. They stayed there as they caught their breath, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, her fingers tracing a path up and down his back.
Finally, he carefully pulled out and disposed of the condom at the bin beside her bed. He found his way back beside her, propping himself up in one elbow as she turned her head to look at him. He reached out to brush a sweaty strand of hair behind her ears, then trailed his fingers down her chin, to her neck, then to the purple mark he had left below her collar bone earlier that evening.
“Seto.”
His blue eyes met hers, and she felt a tingle run through her body as she saw the affection there, “Seto… what does this mean for us?”
His lips curled up as his fingers grazed the area below her breasts before he leaned down to kiss her forehead then her lips softly, “I guess this means we’ll be making the jobs of our PR teams much easier.”