Chapter 194: Himawari [2] 18+

Kael knew exactly what he had become.

Before the system, before this world, he had been ordinary—an otaku who lived inside stories because real life never offered him anything worth touching. Now he had fucked his own mother, blackmailed Kurenai, broken and used women. Women like them who would have ignored him in his old life. He had crossed so many lines that the word "good" no longer applied. The worst part was the honesty he could no longer avoid: he liked it. The power, the heat, the way beautiful women looked at him when he took what he wanted. At some point the original goal of going home had started to feel less important than the next conquest. And now he was on top of Himawari—Naruto’s daughter in another life, maybe even his own in some twisted sense—and he still did not want to stop. He wanted to finish what they had started. He wanted to make her his.

She looked up at him, eyes searching his face. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just thinking you look beautiful."

He kissed her again, slower this time, then trailed his mouth along her jaw and down the side of her throat. Himawari’s breath caught. Her hands rested on his shoulders but did not push him away.

Inside her chest the old love and the new hunger tangled until she could barely tell them apart. In her childhood her father had been warmth and safety and quiet pride. Even after he died in her timeline that love had never faded; it had only grown heavier with nowhere to go. Now the same face belonged to a boy her own age, alive and solid and kissing her like he meant it. The feeling had shifted without her permission—from daughter to something sharper and more dangerous. She knew this Naruto could never love her the way her father once had, because she was not his child here. The only path left that let her keep him close was this one. Yet the fear remained. If he learned the truth he might look at her with disgust.

"Wait, Naruto," she whispered. "I have to tell you something."

Kael already knew the shape of the confession she was trying to make. He did not want it spoken. Words would make everything heavier, more complicated. He kissed her lips again, firm and deliberate.

"I don’t care."

"What?"

"I don’t care about the future. I just know I want you now."

"But you have to know. Otherwise you’ll hate me later."

"I don’t care," he repeated, voice low. "I can never hate you."

His fingers found the buttons of her shirt. One by one they came open. The fabric parted and one breast slipped free, soft and warm in the lamplight. Kael lowered his head and took the nipple into his mouth.

Himawari’s back arched. A small, startled sound left her throat. He sucked slowly at first, tongue circling the stiffening peak, then harder, drawing her deeper. His hand covered the other breast through the remaining half of the shirt, squeezing, thumb rubbing the nipple until it peaked against his palm. She moaned—soft, breathless, almost embarrassed by the sound. Kael switched sides, pushing the shirt farther open so both breasts were bare to him. He licked a slow stripe between them, then closed his mouth over the second nipple, sucking with steady pressure while his fingers rolled and pinched the wet one he had just left.

"Ah... Naruto..."

Her voice was shaky. He did not give her room to gather the confession again. He kept his mouth busy—kissing the soft undersides, licking wide circles, sucking until the skin flushed pink and her breathing turned uneven. Every time she tried to speak he answered with another long pull of his lips or a gentle scrape of teeth that made her hips shift against the mattress. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his hair, not quite pulling him closer, not quite pushing him away. The conflict in her never fully disappeared, but the physical need kept rising over it, wave after wave, until her thoughts blurred.

Only when both breasts were wet and sensitive and she was making continuous soft sounds did Kael begin to move lower. He kissed down the center of her stomach, lingering at the slight dip of her navel, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants. Himawari lifted her hips without being asked. He slid the fabric down her legs and dropped it aside, leaving her in only the open shirt and simple underwear. Those came off next. She was already glistening.

"Wait, Naruto..."

The protest was weak. Kael settled between her thighs, hands resting lightly on her hips, and dragged his tongue through her folds in one slow, deliberate lick. Himawari’s whole body jerked. A higher, broken moan spilled out of her. He did it again, firmer, tasting her properly, then focused on the swollen bud at the top, circling it with the tip of his tongue before sealing his lips around it and sucking.

"Ah—! Ah... wait..."

She could not decide whether she was asking him to stop or begging him not to. Kael kept the pace steady and thorough—long licks from bottom to top, focused suction on her clit, the occasional gentle thrust of his tongue inside her. Wet sounds filled the quiet apartment. Himawari’s thighs trembled on either side of his head. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, then returned to his hair. Every time the pleasure spiked she made a small, helpless noise that went straight through him. He did not rush her toward the edge. He simply stayed there, mouth working her open, learning what made her hips lift and what made her breath stutter.

Her internal struggle never fully left. Even while her body rocked against his mouth she was still the girl who had lost her father, still the time-traveler who knew too much, still terrified that the truth would destroy whatever this was becoming. But the fear could not overpower the heat. She wanted more. She wanted him closer. She wanted the confusion to turn into something simple and physical that she could survive. ℯℯ𝑙.

Kael lifted his head just long enough to look at her face—flushed, eyes glassy, lips parted—then lowered his mouth again, slower and deeper than before. Neither of them came. He kept her balanced on the edge, tasting her, listening to every shaky moan, while the night stretched on and the last of her resistance slowly melted under his tongue.

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