BADASS – [Nino one-shot, rated M]

I’m going to be straight with you – this story contains smut. Yes, I wrote smut, I’M EMBARRASSED BY IT, and I’ve been peer pressured by my friend into publishing this up here. *glares at Kitty* Because I’ve only ever written smut maybe two/three other times in my short lifetime thus far, and I was a wreck of nerves and furious blushing as I wrote this. I blame Nino, really, and this and this pictures. Sexy badass – who would’ve thought Nino could pull it off like a boss? Damn you. Damn youuuuuu. D8

Featuring: Ninomiya Kazunari, female OC
Genre: Romance
Rating: M / NC-17
Summary: Ninomiya Kazunari isn’t CEO for nothing. He’s powerful; he’s ruthless; and he plays hard to get. But above all, he’s one badass motherfucker who gets what he wants – no matter the cost.

WARNING: This story contains foul language, adult situations, and graphic sexual scenes. I’m not kidding when I say ‘graphic‘. This is definitely not for the underaged and the weak-hearted. You’ve been warned!

-

His indifferent face didn’t betray the fact that he was fucking pissed.

Occupying the sleek leather chair at the head of the conference table, he reclined against the headrest as his lean legs stretched out on the pinewood table and crossed at the ankles. He was a figure of cool detachment as his dark, sullen eyes stared through the full-length windows, taking in the torrential rain thundering down mercilessly and the grey hue of the unforgiving clouds that swept the city skyline. The conference room was dark, save for the fiery embers of his cigarette that glowed furiously as he inhaled, casting an eerie shadow on his features.

He tilted his head back and expelled the smoke from his lungs. Just then, there was a firm knock on the door, and a man clad in a dark suit stepped in.

“Sir, the car is ready,” he said stoically. Then, he stiffened as he caught the waft of nicotine in the air. “This building has a strict no-smoking policy, sir.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” Kazunari barked. He took a long, stubborn drag of the cigarette, as if to prove his point. “I own this fucking building.”

The head of security didn’t reply, and Kazunari smirked. “Of course,” he said, his patronising words uttered with deliberate slowness. He dropped his legs off the table and stood bolt upright, and with the cigarette wedged between his lips, he nonchalantly buttoned up his pressed suit and exited the conference room.

Seven other bodyguards stood at attention when he appeared at the doorway. Kazunari eyed each of them with cold disgust, but nevertheless, he gave them a stiff nod. Shoving a hand in his pocket, he walked past the group and strode down the corridor with superior pride and purpose, the heels of his leather shoes clicking noisily on the marble floor. An echo of numerous footsteps trailed behind him, and the irritating noise made him scoff.

What dumbasses haven’t heard of wall-to-wall carpeting? he grumbled inwardly.

His secretary stood waiting expectantly in front of the row of elevators. He gave a deep bow when Kazunari approached him. “How did the board meeting go, sir?” he asked politely.

“Hmph,” Kazunari grunted, a hint of disgust in his tone. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and flicked the ashes carelessly. “I’d rather not talk.”

“Ah,” the secretary nodded with understanding. Having worked closely with the company CEO for two years on now, he was strikingly familiar with the powerful man’s attitude towards the committee board members. “Tomorrow, then.”

The elevator rang with a soft ping!, and the doors slid open. Kazunari and the secretary stepped in, but Kazunari held a commanding hand out when the bodyguards made a move to follow.

“Get your own fucking elevator,” he growled. He punched the button and the doors slid smoothly to a close in their faces. Kazunari couldn’t resist a triumphant smirk to himself as the elevator made its swift descent down thirty-four floors.

Within the privacy of the confined space, Kazunari turned to his secretary. “Has Takeuichi and Co. called back about the investment?” he questioned.

“Yes, sir.”

“And?”

The secretary paused momentarily, then he sighed. “They said they require more time to consider your proposal, sir. Our company’s stocks don’t look promising, and they’ve voiced their concerns about any current investments that lack potential profit value.”

“Fuck,” Kazunari breathed. He took a long and frustrated drag from the cigarette, until the flames ate up the last of the rolled tobacco, then he exhaled the smoke to the ceiling in a noiseless puff while he flung the stick to the floor and stubbed it out with his shoe.

“Might I advise,” the secretary started, very warily, his eyes falling on the stubbed cigarette, “sir – that the board members would use any of your wrongdoing against you, no matter how minor it is.”

Kazunari cast a bored look at the younger man. “Do I look like I give a shit?” he asked coolly.

“Not at all, sir,” the secretary replied, trying to appear casual but nevertheless, a small, knowing smile appeared on his lips.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open. Kazunari was surprised to find his bodyguards standing in the lobby, waiting for him. A few of them were panting, he noted. They must have taken the stairs… at this thought, Kazunari grinned condescendingly. Someone needs a regular cardio exercise.

The receptionists and other employess bowed deeply as Kazunari crossed the lobby towards the entrance. His chauffeur brought an umbrella to him as he emerged from the polished revolving doors and made his way to the black Porsche parked at the curb. As he slid into the car and relaxed on the bench, he found himself needing another smoke. Again.

~

In the dark, quiet confines of his penthouse, Kazunari sat slumped in an armchair and smoked another cigarette – his third since he got back.

He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, so he was a lone, unmoving figure in the darkness, barely illuminated by the weak moonlight streaming through the glass. He was still dressed in his office suit, though his jacket was unbuttoned and his silk tie slackened around the collar. A shot glass and a bottle of whiskey – freshly opened and already half-emptied – occupied the side table. Occasionally, he would reach out and pour the whiskey into the shot glass, and pop it down his throat in a quick gulp.

At times, he would run his fingers through his gelled hair with a frustrated sigh, or he would pound his fist onto the arm, gritting his teeth as though to restrain his fury. At other times, he was pensive, almost an image of a gravely man reflecting deep thoughts, as he had been from the moment he entered the penthouse. Though, after countless shots of whiskey, the alcohol began to take effect, and he was satisfied by the numbness beginning to cloud his mind.

Suddenly, he heard the front door open. He hissed at the light streaming in from the corridor, blinding his eyes that were long adjusted to the darkness. A lithe figure stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

“Kazu? Is that you?” the figure called out.

Kazunari’s alcohol-induced mind took a while to register her features, and when recognition set in, he smiled: a smile oozing with sheer smugness.

“Kiyo.”

“Why is it so dark in here?” she demanded.

She reached out and to flip the lights on, but Kazunari yelled out. “No! Leave it.”

Kiyo narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s up with you?” Then, her scrutinising eyes took notice of the whiskey bottle. “Have you been drinking? It’s barely past eight.”

Kazunari ignored her words. Setting down his cigarette on the ashtray, he held his index finger out and curled it, beckoning her to him.

Kiyo was unaffected; she knew that look all too well. Shrugging off her waistcoat, she crossed the living room and snatched the shot glass and the bottle from his outreached hands. “Trust you to finish off half of our best whiskey,” she snapped.

She strode to the kitchen and placed the whiskey bottle back in the cupboard. As she went to the sink and washed the shot glass, suddenly a pair of hands wrapped around her waist from behind, surprising her that a shocked cry emitted from her throat.

“I can have my fucking whiskey whenever I want,” Kazunari whispered dangerously into her ear.

The shot glass fell from her hands and landed into the sink with a loud thud. Kiyo didn’t even hear him follow her into the kitchen – how could he be so stealthy even in his drunken state? That question wasn’t explored further in her mind, because her breath was quickening at his touches that made her body react involuntarily to. He pushed the thick curls of her hair over her shoulder and his nose nuzzled her neck, inhaling the indistinct scent of the expensive perfume she wore. The jasmine-scented perfume he bought for her. Kiyo unconsciously leaned her head back, allowing his lips access to the column of her neck, where he rained soft kisses all over the skin. She was growing weak under his intoxicating spell; her knees began to buckle and her body almost slackened against the length of his body.

“Kazu… stop…” Kiyo whined helplessly.

“Do you want me to stop?” Kazunari asked quietly. His hands disappeared under her blouse and fanned her flat belly; his cold fingers caressing her hot skin sent shivers shooting up her spine. The calloused but experienced hands rose to her breasts and cupped them through the bra, simultaneously he closed his lips over the curve of her neck and nipped at the flesh. In response, a cry escaped Kiyo’s lips.

“Hmmm,” he smirked, “I thought so.”

Deftly, he spunned Kiyo around to face him and propped her onto the kitchen counter. Through hazy, heavily-lidded eyes, Kiyo was consumed by the predator gleam in his dark eyes – that one look that erased all logic and doubt in her mind. A flare of desire began to ignite within her, and it surged when his cold fingers clasped her knees and pushed them apart. He stood between her spread legs, and without warning, he attacked her with a hard, hungry kiss that spoke of his desperate need for release.

She could barely register his ravishing lips and his roving hands. “We need to slow down,” she panted heavily in-between his furious onslaught of kisses.

“Kiyo. Babe, feel me.” He pressed his crotch against her thighs, and she gasped at the undeniably large bulge straining against the pants. “I’m going to die if I take it any slower.”

“Oh, god,” Kiyo groaned. This time she crushed her lips to Kazunari’s on her own volition, thrusting her tongue into his hot cavern for a deeper taste; her fingers tugged at his jacket with urgency, shrugging it off his shoulders and flinging it to the floor. He tore at the buttons of his linen shirt, letting it tumble to the floor before his hands raced to remove her clothes, too. In quick succession, her blouse, her skirt and her undergarments pooled on the tiled floor. He pulled away from her demanding lips and dipped his head to take a perk nipple into his mouth.

A harsh, high-pitched cry echoed when he sucked onto the sensitive flesh, and she arched her back against his lips, her fingers curling into his hair, urging him to bring her to heightened pleasure. His fingers paid attention to the other nipple, rubbing it and pinching it, sending her into a frenzy of moans of incoherent wailing. Then, his fingers lowered to the heat exuding from the junction at her thighs and found wetness pooling at her entrance, proof of her desire and readiness for him. He slipped his mouth away and watched her face as his fingers played and teased her. A smug grin crossed his features as his eyes took in her flushed cheeks and her mouth hanging open, and her eyes shut tight and closing off her mind to nothing but the sensations of his fingers touching her at an intimate part of her body no other man had gone. Loud mewls escaped her throat and reverberated off the walls, like music that filled his ears and made his fingers quicken in their motions.

Kiyo buried her face in the crook of his neck and began thrusting her hips against his fingers, rocking to a rhythm to build the heat within her. Frustration began to grow, and she was desperate for more.

“Please… Kazu…” she begged. Her fingers tugged at the waistband of his pants. “Please. I don’t care anymore, just… fuck me, here, now.”

Kazunari inhaled sharply. Like a possessed man, he kicked off his pants and his boxers, discarding the fabrics aside to freely expose the prominent arousal between his legs. “You’re driving me crazy, woman,” he groaned. “Wrap your legs around me.”

Kiyo did as told, circling her legs around his waist as her arms clung onto his neck. He poised the tip of his manhood against her throbbing entrance; he knew he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself, so he took her lips in for a deep kiss before he plunged all the way to the hilt, silencing her harsh screams as he filled her completely.

His bruising hands gripped onto her hips, holding her down onto the counter as he grinded into her in a rough, unforgiving rhythm that reflected his unrelenting ascend towards the building orgasm. A guttural groan resounded in his throat every time her warmth enveloped him, tightening around him almost painfully that he sank his teeth into her neck to stop himself from driving his hips violently. His thrusts and his bite were becoming too much for her; her cries of pain and pleasure rose in crescendo, her legs tightened around him as she rocked her hips in an unconscious effort to maintain the momentum building up the imminent force in her body.

Suddenly, without warning, Kazunari slipped all the way out. Kiyo’s eyes flew open. “What are you doing?!” she cried out hoarsely. The emptiness where he had filled gnawed at her, a growing frustration that almost drove her to insanity.

Kazunari didn’t say a word. He was panting from the exertion – but he was far from done. He picked Kiyo up and laid her down on the kitchen floor; she hissed at the cold of the floor tiles kissing the skin on her back. Caging her body underneath his, he spread her legs apart and pushed the knees to the floor before he thrust back into her, his throaty groan of pleasure meeting her harsh, welcoming cries. This position allowed him to anchor deeper, reaching hidden parts of her with ease, and when he nudged at her sweet little spot, electric shock thundered through her body and the loudest scream emitted from her throat.

“Like that, baby?” Kazunari growled.

A glistening sheen of sweat began coating their skin, sweat droplets trickling down their faces. Kiyo’s legs wrapped around his waist and she grounded her feet into his lower back, her toes curling as she tried to curb the explosive force building towards an impending supernova. Kazunari could sense that she was close, from the way her harsh breathing became shallow and her body curved upwards into a perfect arch as she met his thrusts with equal vigour. He bent his head and licked at an engorged nipple, and as he closed his mouth over it and sucked hard, Kiyo was suddenly struck by a wave of such intensity that caught her so unexpectedly. She stiffened for a moment, before his name echoed to the ceiling and her body convulsed wildly, submitting herself to the explosive climax.

Kazunari, on the other hand, was close, very close. His thrusts were desperate, unrelenting, demanding for a similar relief. He grinded into her deeper, faster, harder, driving against her sensitive core, until finally, he felt it. Heat shot up his spine in a flash, and a satisfied growl left his lips as he rode with her in the orgasmic ecstasy, the dominant male in him spewing his seed deep within her to mark her as his. She quivered at the hot liquid filling her womb, and in response she clenched tightly around him, milking him painfully for all that was left.

Once the stars cleared from their vision, they both collapsed onto each other in a tangle of limbs. Their bodies slumped with exhaustion and their heavy breathing filled the dense air for a few good minutes, in sync to their chests rising and falling and coupled with their rapid heartbeats thundering against their ribs. With a sigh of satiation, Kazunari propped himself up onto his elbows and his fingers pushed his sweat-drenched locks back, his twinkling eyes gazing directly at her and searching for any response to their tumultuous lovemaking.

“You were wonderful,” he cooed, pressing a loving kiss to her clavicles and the darkening bites that littered the base of her neck.

He pulled out of her, and Kiyo sighed in regret at the sudden emptiness that left a dull, throbbing ache. He sat on his haunches and sifted through the scattered clothes, searching for his pants, which when he had found, he dug through the pockets until he fished out his pack of cigarette and a lighter. Relaxing against the counters, he stuck a stick between his lips and flicked the lighter, letting the blue flame eat at the tobacco. He carelessly flung the lighter aside as he took a long drag of the smoke and threw his head back against the counter, groaning in content as the nicotine burnt his lungs and soothed him from inside out.

Kiyo crawled over and straddled his hips, and with a lazy smile he circled his free hand around her lithe waist and drew her flush against him, leaving none of her skin untouched by his. Kiyo curled her body in response and nuzzled her swollen red lips along his shaven jaw.

“Feeling better?” she asked serenely. Her palms ran up and down his chest in a gesture that was comforting and encouraging at the same time.

Kazunari raised his eyebrows at her, a look of curiosity and questioning set in his eyes. When understanding dawned on him, his smile widened into a grin. “Baby, having sex with you cures cancer. It’s that good.”

Kiyo rolled her eyes. “Smooth talker,” she muttered. “So, those whiny bitches still breathing down your neck?”

“Not just that, they’re ready to suck my blood,” he replied with a soft growl. He took an angry puff from the cigarette to soothe the frustration beginning to boil in the pits of his belly.

“Well, do what you always do,” Kiyo nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing to do. “Don’t you have a two-step thing going? Step One: you tell them to fuck off your back and pull that stick out of their asses; and if that fails, then you go to the fail-proof Step Two: pull off the “This company’s name is Ninomiya for a fucking good reason, assholes” move,” she mimicked his commanding voice, bobbing her head for added theatrical effect.

Kazunari chuckled at her, and he pulled her to him for a hungry kiss. “Maybe you should take my place as CEO for the day,” he suggested with pride, “I bet you could easily sway those dumbasses into worshipping your very presence.”

“Hah,” Kiyo snorted. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want pervy old men drooling over my boobs.”

“Well, that is a rather attractive rack you got there,” he noted. He bent his head and nuzzled against the valley between her breasts. She moaned at his hot breaths and felt that consuming desire return to her loins, and unconsciously she grounded her hips down, moaning louder when his hardening manhood brushed against her sensitive junction.

Kazunari‘s glowing expression practically oozed smugness. “I guess we’re ready for round two.” With a casual flick of the unfinished cigarette into the sink, he got onto his feet and carried her out of the kitchen, their lips locked in another fiery frenzy of passionate kisses as he crossed the living room to their bedroom.

There was no doubt Ninomiya Kazunari had a lot on his plate right now – nothing unusual for a powerful man who owned and chaired one of the biggest companies in Japan. But, right now, he wouldn‘t concern himself with work. No, he would leave his worries for tomorrow, and soothe himself in the ecstasy of making love to his woman all night long.

~