NTR : Next Reincarnated-Chapter 16: Ch - Mika’s Confession

Days had passed since Keita’s transformation and his public assertion of control, the lines of his reality blurring into something more defined, more dangerous. The world felt sharper, colours perhaps more intense, the presence of Mika amplified tenfold – her touch magnetic, her words carrying sharper edges now, laced with the possessiveness that felt like a declaration of war on anyone else who might intrude.

Keita felt the storm brewing within her, a tension humming beneath his skin like a second heartbeat. He tried to distance himself, retreating into the anonymity of the library’s books or the meticulous organization of his (now shared) apartment, but it was a losing battle. Mika found him, cornered him, always. Her eyes held a rawness that cut deeper than any argument.

He’d been in his study, trying to regain a semblance of control over the narrative – arranging the newly manifested sketches depicting twisted scenarios involving Reina and Aiko-sensei, his own distorted face staring back from the pages. Mika didn’t need words.

He heard the soft click of the bathroom door unlocking, the distinct sound of her bare feet padding softly on the cool tile floor outside. He didn’t turn around immediately, pretending to focus on a drawing of Reina’s distorted face contorted in agony.

"Keita," her voice was low, a silk rope coiling around his spine.

He sighed, a sound tight with suppressed frustration. "What do you want, Mika?"

"Everything," she whispered, her presence suddenly filling the doorway. She wore nothing but his discarded shirt draped over her shoulder. Water droplets clung to her dark hair as if she’d just stepped out of a steam room. The air in the study felt heavy, charged with her proximity.

He finally turned, meeting her gaze. The anger he saw there was worse than usual, sharper. "Don’t be childish."

"Mika," he tried again, his voice losing some of its edge.

Her expression shifted then, from furious to something... rawer. Vulnerable? Betrayal flickered across her face before being swallowed by intensity. "You think you can ignore me?"

"No," he admitted grudgingly. "I just don’t know what you want."

He stood up from his chair, intending to walk away towards the bathroom. Her hand shot out, lightning-fast, grabbing his wrist and yanking him back against the wall with surprising strength.

"Answer me," she breathed, her eyes locked on his. "Tell me you don’t want me too."

The implication hung heavy in the air – him wanting her despite everything else.

He looked down at her hand clamped possessively on his arm. Her skin felt hot beneath his fingers. "Mika," he started again.

Her lips crashed against his in a kiss that was pure aggression – teeth biting, tongue demanding entry like a siege. It was angry, bruising. He instinctively tried to push her away, but her grip tightened.

The study door clicked shut behind him as he backed into it helplessly.

"Mika," he gasped against her mouth.

She didn’t stop the kiss; instead, she used her leverage against him, pinning his back against the solid oak door. Her legs wrapped around his waist, forcing him higher, closer to her. Her tongue was an insistent weapon, exploring the depths of his mouth with a ferocity that left him momentarily breathless.

He retaliated, hands sliding down her hips, fingers digging slightly into her flesh through the thin fabric of his trousers. She moaned against his lips, a sound of pure need mixed with pain.

They stumbled towards the bedroom, Mika leading the charge, pulling him along with agonizing slowness. He followed numbly at first, caught between panic and the undeniable pull of her kiss.

The bedroom door slammed shut. Mika kicked it closed with her foot before turning him around and pressing him against the cool wood frame. Her shirt was gone in an instant, thrown carelessly onto the floor. Her breasts were freed, heavy and waiting beneath the thin fabric of her pajamas top.

He looked down at her body, a primal heat igniting within him. This was Mika – all sharp angles and dark intensity made physically manifest. Her eyes bore into his, daring him to look.

"Touch me," she demanded breathlessly, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He didn’t need telling twice. His hands found the hem of her top, pulling it up over her hips, baring her to the cool room air and the humid heat of the bedroom. His breath hitched at the sight – smooth skin, hinting curves designed for domination and desire.

She shivered slightly under his gaze. "More," she whispered, pushing his hands further down his own trousers just as she reached for the waistband of her pajamas.

The next few moments were a blur of stripped skin, gasping breaths, and desperate touches. Keita kicked off his remaining clothes before bending down to capture one nipple between his teeth, eliciting a sharp cry from Mika that was half pleasure, half pain.

Her hands fumbled with his belt and zipper, her touch frantic. He gripped her waist as she pushed him backwards towards the edge of the bed. The sheets beneath them were cold against his skin just moments ago.

She straddled him, sinking down onto his hard length with a gasp that vibrated against his lips. The friction was intense, immediate. She began moving on him almost frantically, her body seeking an oblivion it might not find.

He ran his hands up her back, gripping her shoulders as she leaned forward to kiss him deeply again. Her inner muscles clenched rhythmically against him, pulling him deeper with each wild thrust.

"You’re mine," she whispered between kisses, her teeth grazing his neck.

He felt a strange disconnect, as if watching this woman he loved possess him from afar. The anger had transformed into something else – a raw hunger mirroring his own.

She reached down then, not to slow down, but to intensify. Her fingers found their own clit through the damp curls of her pubic hair. Her hips bucked violently off his as she cried out his name, her climax hitting them both like a physical blow – sharp nails digging into his shoulders as she shuddered above him.

Her body convulsed, gripping him impossibly tight before collapsing onto his chest, her face buried in his neck. The frantic energy deflated like a punctured balloon for a moment.

But even in her spent state, she pulled herself up slightly, looking down at him with teary eyes that held no malice, only... vulnerability.

"Keita," she whispered hoarsely.

He held her tighter, feeling her trembling. "What?"

Her voice was barely a breath. "You take everything... you have everything..."

"What are you saying?" He kissed the top of her head.

"Take me too," she pleaded softly, tears tracing paths through the sweat on her cheeks. "If you’re going to make me yours... make me completely yours."

The anger was gone now, replaced by a dizzying mix of raw need and terrifying honesty. He looked up at her tear-streaked face inches from his.

"Did you really think I wouldn’t?" he murmured, his voice rough with need and something darker still.

He flipped them over then, Mika gasping at the sudden change in pressure. He positioned himself between her thighs again, but this time slower, more deliberate. He kissed her tear-stained cheek. "Tell me you want this," he commanded softly.

Her lips quivered. "I want you so much," she confessed brokenly.

He entered her again slowly, stretching her velvet walls deliberately after her explosive climax. She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively this time, pulling him deeper.

"Mika," he groaned against her neck as he began moving within her. The rhythm was controlled now, precise, almost possessive. He found the spot inside her that sent sparks flying – nerves firing under his careful assault.

She tightened around him again and again, riding the controlled thrusts like waves. Her climax came not as a violent rush this time, but as a long, shuddering release that wracked her body until she was limp against him.

He held her trembling form as she rode out her second climax of the night, his own release imminent. He came hard inside her, a deep guttural groan escaping him as his body spasmed beneath hers.

They collapsed together on the bed, tangled limbs and slick sheets cooling rapidly. Mika clung to him tightly.

"It’s done," she whispered into his shoulder. "Everything is finally... yours."

He wasn’t sure if he believed that or feared it more. But there was no denying the reality of their connection – brother and sister , a bond forged in anger, desire, and a shared descent into the darkness of his own creation. He was writing the filth now, and Mika was proof.

CA