The kitchen smelled heavenly.
A pot of rich, savory broth simmered quietly on the stove, the delicate scent of soy sauce, mirin, and dashi filling the air. Sliced beef, fresh vegetables, and silky soft tofu were neatly arranged on the counter beside it — all ready for the sukiyaki Ai was preparing with trembling hands.
Not that her hands were trembling because of the food.
No, it had everything to do with the warm, heavy presence looming behind her.
At the stove next to her, Shin stood with a mixing bowl in one hand, lazily whisking together batter for the pancakes. His sleeves were rolled up, forearms flexing slightly as he worked, the domesticity somehow making him look even hotter.
Every few moments, he "accidentally" brushed against her — bumping her hip with his or letting his arm graze her side as he reached for something. Every touch was casual. Every touch was absolutely not casual.
"You're doing good, Ai," Shin murmured, voice a deep rumble that made her knees wobble.
Ai's fingers fumbled with the chopsticks she was using to stir the broth.
"I-I know," she squeaked.
Shin chuckled low in his throat, and Ai could feel it vibrating in the air between them.
While Ai focused desperately on cutting the tofu into neat squares for the miso soup, Shin leaned over casually, reaching for a ladle — and in the process, pressing himself right up against her back.
Her heart skipped wildly.
"Careful," Shin whispered against her ear, lips brushing the shell lightly. "Wouldn't want to drop that tofu."
"I won't," Ai insisted breathlessly, but her hand shook slightly as she spooned the tofu into the simmering miso broth.
Shin's smile was pure wickedness.
He returned to the pancake batter — but not without letting his hand trail along Ai's waist as he passed. His fingers grazed her bare skin between her slightly too-small T-shirt and the hem of her shorts.
Ai squeaked, flinching slightly.
"Oniii-Chan," she whined in a tiny voice.
"You're the one who said you wanted to cook," he teased, flicking a drop of pancake batter at her arm. "Don't blame me if you're too cute to leave alone."
Ai turned red from her ears to her toes.
She hurriedly moved to beat the eggs for the tamagoyaki, trying to concentrate, but Shin was relentless.
He started pouring pancakes onto the griddle, humming softly under his breath, but he kept glancing at her from the corner of his eye — that smug, handsome face of his making her want to kiss him.
When she leaned forward slightly to reach for the seasoning, he moved behind her, crowding her toward the counter, his chest pressing firmly into her back.
"Stay still," Shin whispered, lips nuzzling against the side of her neck.
Ai froze, the seasoning jar slipping from her fingers and thudding onto the counter.
Shin chuckled again — and this time, he didn't stop.
While the first pancake sizzled gently on the griddle, he slid one hand down her back, his palm hot and firm against her spine, sending electricity through her nerves.
Then, without warning, Shin's hand slipped under the waistband of her shorts.
"Ahn!" Ai gasped, jerking forward against the counter.
But Shin only pressed closer, trapping her with his body. His fingers brushed over the smooth curve of her ass, teasing, before slipping lower — sliding into her panties from the back.
Ai bit her lip hard, whimpering, eyes fluttering shut.
"You're so warm here," Shin murmured huskily, his fingers gliding lightly between her legs, teasing her slick folds.
"O-Onii-Chan—" Ai tried to protest, but her voice broke into a tiny, helpless whimper.
He nipped her earlobe gently.
"Focus, Ai," he whispered, dragging his fingers lazily back up, retreating just as quickly as he had invaded.
Ai trembled, thighs clenching instinctively.
Shin pulled his hand out with an infuriating slowness, giving her ass a teasing squeeze before moving away as if nothing had happened — flipping the pancake casually with the spatula.
Ai had to grip the counter for dear life, her whole body burning, heart hammering against her ribs.
Somehow — somehow — she managed to finish seasoning the sukiyaki broth and stir the miso soup without fainting on the spot. She poured the beaten eggs into the pan to start the tamagoyaki, hands shaking slightly.
Shin hummed a cheerful little tune as he stacked the pancakes onto a plate, like he hadn't just ruined her mind completely.
Ai glared at him, cheeks puffed out, but Shin just shot her a smirk — and winked.
She wanted to punch him.
She wanted to kiss him.
Mostly, she wanted to drag him back to the bathroom and pick up where they'd left off.
But instead, she focused on flipping the tamagoyaki carefully, biting her lip and pretending she wasn't throbbing between her legs.
The kitchen was starting to feel dangerously hot.
It wasn't just the steamy broth simmering on the stove, or the golden tamagoyaki slowly taking shape in Ai's trembling hands.
No, it was Shin.
Shin, who moved behind her with a deliberate slowness, like a predator stalking easy prey.
Ai tried to ignore the way her body shivered when she heard his footsteps — the soft sound of his socks brushing the kitchen floor — and focused on plating the tamagoyaki.
But she didn't have a chance.
A pair of strong hands suddenly wrapped around her waist, pulling her backward against a hard, solid chest.
Ai gasped, heat flaring in her cheeks.
"You're shaking," Shin murmured against the nape of her neck, his voice dark and teasing.
"B-Because of you," Ai squeaked, desperately trying to keep stirring the soup.
Shin just chuckled, low and pleased, and let one hand slip lower — over her belly, then teasingly skimming along the waistband of her shorts.
Ai's breath hitched.
Before she could react, Shin's other hand snaked under the hem of her T-shirt.
His fingers were warm, rough and they felt so good sliding across her bare skin.
"A-Ah..." Ai whimpered as Shin's hand moved higher, caressing the underside of her breasts.
"You're so soft," he murmured, as if fascinated.
He easily found the edge of her bra and, without hesitation, shoved it upward, baring her sensitive breasts to his wandering touch.
Ai's entire body tensed — but not in fear.
In aching, desperate need.
Shin cupped her breast in his large hand, squeezing gently, kneading her tender flesh in slow, maddening circles. His thumb brushed over her nipple, making it harden instantly under his palm.
"Onii-Chan..." she moaned helplessly, her head falling back against his shoulder.
He chuckled darkly, his teeth nibbling her earlobe.
"Keep cooking," he teased, voice dripping with wicked amusement.
As if she could.
Her hands trembled so badly that she dropped the spatula into the pan with a loud clatter.
Shin just laughed softly and withdrew — only to flip the pancakes on the griddle like nothing had happened.
Ai stood there, panting, clutching the counter with white knuckles, her bra pushed up awkwardly around her chest, her nipples exposed and tingling, her whole body trembling with need.
And Shin?
He was flipping pancakes.
Whistling.
Like he hadn't just molested her within an inch of her sanity.
Ai turned to glare at him, but the moment she moved, Shin caught her by the wrist, spinning her around to face him.
Before she could even squeak, he pushed her back against the counter — his body pressing against hers, trapping her neatly.
"Ai," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.
She whimpered.
Shin nuzzled her neck, lips brushing lightly over her skin. Then he bit her — not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make her shiver violently.
"A-Ahn!" Ai gasped, grabbing at his arms.
He didn't stop.
He kissed down the side of her throat, slow and wet and maddeningly thorough, trailing a hot path toward the neckline of her shirt.
"Shin, w-we have to f-finish—" Ai tried to protest, but it was hopeless.
Her body betrayed her completely, melting against him, her knees buckling.
"Finish what?" Shin murmured, tugging at the hem of her t-shirt.
And before she could even process it, he yanked it upward — exposing her bare breasts — and latched his mouth onto one stiff, needy nipple.
"Ahhh!! Onii-Chan!!" Ai cried out, back arching violently.
His mouth was so hot, his tongue swirling, sucking, nibbling, making her squirm uncontrollably against the counter.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging helplessly, but Shin only groaned low in his throat and sucked harder, switching to her other breast without mercy.
Ai thought she might actually die from the pleasure.
She was so sensitive, so desperate, so utterly undone by his touch that she couldn't even think.
Her hips bucked instinctively against him, grinding shamelessly against his thigh.
Shin growled softly — a sound that sent another jolt of heat straight between her legs — and slid one hand down to cup her ass, squeezing hard.
"You're driving me crazy, Ai," he whispered hoarsely against her skin. "You're so fucking cute."
"I-I'm, only for you!!" she sobbed.
But Shin just laughed, a wicked, tender sound, and kissed his way back up to her mouth.
Their lips crashed together, messy and hungry, Ai clinging to him desperately as he devoured her. His tongue thrust into her mouth, claiming her completely, and she surrendered without a fight.
When they finally broke apart, Ai was panting, dazed, her face flushed bright red, her nipples slick and aching.
Shin grinned at her — that stupidly handsome, smug grin that made her want to kiss him again all at once.
"You're burning the soup," he said casually.
Ai blinked.
The smell hit her a second later — the miso soup was boiling over.
She shrieked, flailing to grab the ladle, and Shin just laughed, stepping back to casually flip another pancake as if he hadn't just sucked her breasts half to death.
"Y-you're the worst," Ai hissed, stirring the soup frantically.
"I know," Shin said with a grin, stacking the pancakes neatly onto a plate. "But you still love me."
Ai burned with humiliation and desperate, aching need.
And worst of all — he was right.
She loved him. She loved him so much it hurt.
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END OF CHAPTER : 67 : STIRRING UP TROUBLE!
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