Midnight Affairs: Tokyo Secret Wives Club

Riku stirred to the gentle warmth of morning brushing against his skin… but something else too, wet, slow, and rhythmically soft.

A quiet slurp.

His brow furrowed, caught between dream and waking, breath shallow. His eyes blinked open, blurry at first, until they focused.

And then… time stopped.

There she was.

Naked. Kneeling. Her long hair cascading like silk around her shoulders, catching the early light that slipped through the half-closed curtains.

She wasn't aware he was awake yet.

And that made it all the more surreal.

Her eyes were locked on him, not his face, but lower… admiring him like she'd discovered some long-lost treasure. Like she couldn't quite believe what she saw. There was a sense of reverence in her gaze. Of curiosity. Of hunger.

Her lips brushed him again, tentative, then a bit more confident.

A slow lick, like she was tasting a sacred indulgence.

It wasn't lust, not entirely. There was wonder in her expression. Like she was lost in the moment, immersed in a kind of fascination she hadn't allowed herself in years. She wasn't performing. She wasn't trying to impress.

She was simply… indulging. Exploring.

In her own world.

And Riku, watching this goddess, this wounded, complex woman who had spent the night baring her soul to him...felt something deeper than arousal.

Awe.

She looked beautiful. Not in a polished, distant way, but raw, human, vulnerable, breathtaking. Like the world had stripped her of all pretense, and what remained was something honest and radiant.

And the fact that she chose this, chose him, without demand, without control, just desire...was the most intimate thing he'd ever felt.

He didn't move. Didn't want to break the spell.

He just watched her, heart slowly thudding against his ribs, while the morning light painted her skin in gold.

She didn't realize it at first.

Still caught in her own rhythm, her soft breath tickling against his skin, the tip of her tongue tracing the edge like she was savoring her favorite dessert.

But then....

His hand twitched slightly.

His breath caught.

Their eyes met.

She froze.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Her lips hovered over him, cheeks warming as her eyes widened slightly, caught in the act like a mischievous thief. But there was no panic in her. No shame. Just… surprise. A flicker of hesitation in a woman not used to being vulnerable.

Then… she smiled.

Not the polite kind.

Not even the seductive kind.

But one of those rare, genuine, almost childlike grins...a little wicked, a little proud. Like she'd been found sneaking one more bite of cake and decided, "So what if I was?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then leaned down again, slowly, intentionally. Her tongue traced him with more confidence now.

"You're awake," she whispered, voice husky, teasing. "Guess the secret's out…"

Riku opened his mouth, maybe to speak, maybe to groan, but she had already taken him deeper, effortlessly this time. Her throat adjusted to him like she'd learned something from the night before. Her hands pressed gently against his thighs, grounding herself as she moved in rhythm, slow and purposeful.

He let out a low, helpless moan.

She paused just enough to smirk up at him.

"See?" she said, voice laced with pride. "I told you I'd get used to it."

A single stroke with her tongue. "It's mine now."

She dove again, this time deeper, more eager, more fluid. His fingers instinctively reached down, brushing her hair back to get a better look, to see her face as she owned him.

And when he came, she took every bit of him....no hesitation.

Her throat flexed gently, accepting all of it.

Then she pulled back slowly, letting the last drop trail from her lips to her cheek. She didn't wipe it off right away. Instead, she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, lips parted, his release glistening on her skin.

"This," she whispered, running a finger along her cheek, then licking it clean with a playful smile,

"…is how a good morning should start."

Riku could only stare, breathless, in awe.

Beautiful. Shameless. His.

___

Riku didn't say a word.

He simply stood up, bare and unashamed, leaned forward, and swept her off the bed into his arms.

She let out a surprised squeak, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

"W-What are you doing?" she asked, her voice still hoarse from moments ago, cheeks flushed.

He smirked, eyes soft but teasing. "Shower."

Her eyes widened in alarm. "W-Wait, I'm still not ready for… that."

He paused mid-step, looked at her, and then smiled, not the cocky kind, but the calm, grounding kind that always made her chest flutter.

"I know," he said gently. "I'm not taking you to that. I'm just taking you with me."

Her lips parted slightly, taken aback by how tender his voice sounded. She let her head rest against his chest, trusting.

___

The water was warm as it poured over them, steam rising around like a veil, blurring the rest of the world away. It was just them, two bodies, two heartbeats, under the soft drizzle of morning light and heat.

Riku reached for the soap, lathered it between his palms until it frothed, and then pressed his hands gently to her shoulders. His fingers moved with reverence, as if each inch of her skin was holy.

She closed her eyes as he traced the curve of her back, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. He didn't grope or rush...he felt. Each stroke was like he was memorizing her body through touch, like he was mapping out her essence with open palms.

He knelt slightly behind her, gliding suds down the backs of her thighs. "Every inch of you… beautiful," he whispered, half to himself.

She turned, water trailing down her hair and face like a goddess sculpted in motion. Her hands, trembling but sure, took the soap from his hands.

"My turn," she whispered, cheeks rosy but eyes steady.

She started at his collarbone, tracing the outline with foam and fingertips. Her palms moved down his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. Down his abdomen, over each defined line of him, not to excite, but to know. To see the man beneath her, not just with her eyes, but through her fingers.

When she reached his hands, she brought them to her lips and kissed them.

"You held me," she said softly. "Even when I didn't know I needed it."

His breath hitched.

And then he kissed her.

Not hungrily. Not lustfully.

But deeply. Sweetly.

The kind of kiss where nothing else matters. The kind that says I'm here. You're safe.

They stayed like that for a while, pressed forehead to forehead under the water, their fingers exploring not to claim, but to connect.

And as the water ran down their skin, rinsing away the night, the hesitation, the fear...what remained was simple, pure:

Two people

One warmth

And a love beginning to bloom.

___

Wrapped in warm towels and laughter, they moved together through the quiet apartment. The scent of coffee filled the air, blending with the soft crackling of butter on a pan.

Riku stood shirtless by the stove, flipping eggs with casual confidence. She leaned against the counter, wearing nothing but one of his oversized t-shirts, one that fell past her thighs, swallowing her frame, making her look even smaller, even more his.

She watched him with a dreamy smile.

"You cook too?" she asked, arms crossed, teasing.

He glanced back over his shoulder. "I make a mean omelette. And toast that doesn't burn. That qualifies as a domestic god, right?"

She chuckled. "You're halfway there."

They sat at the small dining table, knees brushing. Sunlight spilled through the windows, catching the glint in her eyes as she bit into a piece of toast he buttered just right. He took a sip of coffee, watching her with quiet admiration, like she was the only person that mattered in the world....like she was his world.

"This is…" she said, a little breathless, "…nice."

"It is."

No masks. No past. Just the warmth of food, the calm of morning, and the softness between them.

But just as she reached for her coffee mug, her phone buzzed on the table. The name on the screen made her freeze.

Her hand trembled slightly as she answered.

"Hello?"

A voice on the other end, panicked, hurried.

"Ma'am, you need to come. Your husband, he's at the airport clinic. Someone… someone beat him up badly. We need you to pick him up."

Her heart dropped.

Coffee turned bitter on her tongue.

And the morning shattered.

She didn't speak.

Only stared ahead, the phone still to her ear…

As Riku's voice cut gently across the silence:

"…What happened?"

___

Author's Note:

Yes, what happened?

Just when the day was getting perfect.

But now the real question....

Who the hell beat up Kenji?

And more importantly…

Why send him back like that?

A warning? A message?

Or is there something about him that even she doesn't know?

What do you think?

Who could it be?

Let me know your wildest guess in the comments below.