Chapter 11 — (R18)A Sweet, Forbidden Pleasure

The room remained drenched in silence, save for the soft hum of the laptop's fan and the faint ticking of the antique clock above the door.

Akane Takahashi leaned forward, her violet eyes fixed on the screen with unwavering intensity.

The file Aiko had given her played without hesitation.

There, on the screen, beneath the pale light of his bedroom, Shinichi moved, dressed in soft, pink pajamas.

Alone. Vulnerable. Unaware that someone was watching from a camera hidden within the mirror.

He slowly removed his pajama top, exposing his soft, delicate skin — pale and untouched like porcelain.

Then… he froze.

His breath hitched, his brows furrowed, and his arm crossed over his chest as though shielding his body from some unseen, lustful gaze.

Akane felt her heartbeat quicken, her breath shallow. For a moment, it felt as though he were looking straight at her—like he knew.

Shinichi murmured something, but the microphone couldn't catch the words. Still, the faint blush rising on his cheeks and the slowly growing bulge beneath his pajama pants left little room for doubt about his arousal.

Akane's violet eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction.

'The quality is lacking. I'll have Aiko see to that later.'

But for now… she continued watching.

After a few more seconds of hesitation, Shinichi let out a soft, shaky breath and lowered his hand from his chest, as if giving up on hiding. His head bowed, his face flushed a deep, helpless pink.

Akane's slender fingers hovered above her lips as if trying to restrain the smile curling there.

'How precious.

How pure.

How filthy… yet innocent.'

To Akane's surprise, the microphone finally captured his soft voice.

"This is all that salon onee-chan's fault…"

Her smile faded. Her eyes narrowed coldly.

'Salon… onee-chan?

Who is this woman? Another pest? Someone I need to remove?'

Her irritation simmered.

But she would investigate later. For now, she couldn't afford to miss what was happening on the screen.

Shinichi's trembling hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pajamas—shy, hesitant… but driven by a need too strong to resist.

Akane's heart throbbed violently against her ribs.

Her thighs pressed together beneath the table.

'So this is how he looks… when he's desperate. When he's needy.

All alone, thinking of who?

No—no one else matters. Even if it wasn't me then… I'll make sure it will be.'

On the screen, Shinichi's breath quickened. His back arched faintly. His body trembled in soft, almost silent shame.

But Akane saw none of that as shame.

To her, it was beauty incarnate.

The flush on his face. The helpless way his body surrendered to pleasure.

He was so soft. So fragile.

And yet, so completely hers.

Her hand slipped beneath the fabric of her skirt, fingers tracing slow, deliberate lines down the curve of her inner thigh.

Her other hand remained on the mouse, unwilling to look away even for a second.

Her breathing grew heavier.

'This is my secret treasure.

This is my peace.

He'll never know… that I see him like this. That I touch myself to him like this. That I burn for him in ways words could never express.'

Her fingertips found heat beneath the lace of her undergarments—already damp, already aching.

Slowly. Softly. As though drawing out the moment to its sweetest possible length, she began to move.

"Shinichi… haa… oh, my Shinichi…"

His name spilled from her lips like a prayer, half-breathless, half-mad.

On the screen, Shinichi gasped. His body tensed.

Her own fingers mirrored the rhythm of his hand.

Akane's breath became shallow, desperate.

"Haa… ah… nnh… Shinichi… haa…!"

Her legs trembled beneath the polished wood of the council table.

'I want to have him.

I want to keep him locked away where no one else can ever see this side of him.

His shame, his pleasure… his release—it belongs to me. To me alone.'

Akane closed her eyes briefly, only to see the image burned beneath her lids—that soft, flushed face. Those trembling lips.

Her hips shifted instinctively, chasing the heat curling tighter and tighter within her.

"Haa… nnh… ah… haa…"

'Just a little more…

Just a little further…'

A faint sound escaped her throat—half sigh, half moan—as the climax stole over her like silk drawn tight around her heart.

"Haa… mnn… aah…"

Her body tensed.

Her breath hitched.

And then, like a wave breaking beneath her skin, the tension snapped.

She sagged in her chair, breathing heavily, chest rising and falling beneath the fine fabric of her uniform blouse.

The screen had gone still.

Shinichi lay exhausted on his sheets, one hand covering his face as though ashamed.

But to Akane…

It was the most beautiful, the most perfect sight in the world.

"Mine…" she whispered, breathless, trembling still. "All mine."

Her fingers withdrew from beneath her skirt, sticky with proof of her obsession.

With a soft, satisfied sigh, she closed the file and shut the laptop with a soft click.

Across the room, beyond the door, Aiko waited silently, knowing precisely what had transpired inside.