Rias

... I had been irritated with him for weeks.

Issei followed me into the library like an eager puppy, carrying the ladder without complaint. The book I needed was on the highest shelf—some obscure text on ancient Devil contracts that even the Gremory archives barely mentioned. He set the ladder in place, held it steady, and looked up at me with that same useless, hopeful expression he always wore.

“Be careful, Rias-senpai.”

I didn’t answer. I just climbed.

The rungs creaked under my weight. I stretched, fingertips brushing the spine of the book. One more step. My foot came down on the next rung—

—and it snapped.

The world tilted. I felt the ladder shift, heard Issei’s startled shout, and then gravity took me. I fell backward, skirt flipping up, arms flailing for balance that was already gone. For a split second I saw his face below me, eyes wide, arms half-raised as if he could catch me.

He couldn’t.

My ass hit him with the full force of the fall.

There was a wet, obscene squelch as his head punched straight past my tight ring. The sudden stretch was blinding. I felt his shoulders, his chest, the frantic thrashing of his arms as my body simply… took him. Inch after inch of him disappeared into me, forced deeper by my own weight and the angle of the fall. His upper body was gone before I even hit the floor.

I landed hard on my hands and knees, the impact driving him even further inside.

And then the pleasure hit.

It was not gentle. It was not romantic. It was a white-hot, mind-erasing flood that ripped a scream from my throat. My vision went white. Every nerve in my lower body lit up at once as his torso settled deep in my bowels, still moving, still struggling, still alive. The walls of my ass clenched around him in helpless, rhythmic spasms. I could feel every twitch of his shoulders, every desperate kick of the legs that were still outside me.

I collapsed fully onto the wooden floor, cheek pressed to the cool boards, mouth open and drooling. Another scream tore out of me—longer, broken, shameless. My hips jerked and rolled without my permission, grinding him deeper. The library, the book, the ladder, everything ceased to matter. There was only the impossible fullness, the constant squirming pressure against places no one had ever reached, and the pure, vicious ecstasy that came with it.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that. It felt like hours. Every time he thrashed, another wave crashed through me. My thighs trembled. My fingers scraped uselessly at the floor. I moaned and sobbed and laughed all at once, voice hoarse, eyes rolled back, body locked in endless orgasm.

When the worst of it finally ebbed, I was still shaking.

I could feel him inside me—hot, trapped, still weakly struggling. The realization settled over me slowly, like warm honey.

He was never coming out.

The boy who had left me aching and unfinished for months. The boy who passed out at the first touch of my breasts. The boy who thought he could collect a harem while being unable to satisfy even one woman.

He was exactly where he belonged.

A slow, satisfied smile curved my lips. I pushed myself up just enough to look down between my own legs and see the lower half of him still protruding—waist, hips, kicking legs. I gave an experimental clench. He jerked. Another soft, helpless sound left me.

I would keep him.

Forever.

The others could search. They could worry. They could all cry over their missing crush.

I would walk through the halls with him sealed inside me, every step a private reminder of the day my frustration finally ended… and something far better began.

I never wanted him to escape.

And I would make certain he never did.