Bite Back

Wheat Island

Wyleen woke to Katakuri talking with the doctor about her injuries. Half asleep still, Wyleen wasn’t paying too much attention, but heard the doctor tell Katakuri that she would be fine to leave the infirmary today and to come back tomorrow to remove the stitches from her lip. Pulling herself back into full consciousness, Wyleen sat up to rub her eyes. “Good morning,” she greeted the two men with a yawn.

“Gather your things; we’re leaving,” Katakuri endeared in a gruff voice.

Looking at the doctor for approval, Wyleen saw the doctor give a single nod before leaving the room. “Where are we off to in such a hurry?”

“I would like to take you somewhere,” was all he replied to her as he started walking away. Wyleen rolled her eyes at Katakuri. Knowing he refused to show anything but his callous exterior everywhere but behind closed doors. “Pack what you must; I will have the rest sent off after the Tea Party.”

She looked up at him, confused, “Sent off?”

“To Wheat Island, dear; I am the minister of that island. That is where I primarily reside when I’m not here or at sea,” he explained, leaning against the wall of her room by the door to wait for her.

“Oh, that’s right, the Minister of Flour, yes?” Wyleen called from the closet as she dressed in proper clothes.

“Hm,” he hummed, giving a nod in response.

“How long will we be gone from the château?”

“Just two days, you will be able to be acquainted with everything further once you are settled.”

Pulling the drawstring on her rucksack, she turned to face the tall man before her, “I’m all set.”

Katakuri pulled himself away from the wall to hold the door for her, “Good.”

Wyleen held the straw sunhat to her head so it wouldn’t blow away in the breeze as she stood at the port next to Katakuri. “It’s a lovely day, a bit breezy for sailing though, isn’t it?”

“We’ll manage,” he replied, his arms crossed, the fabric of his scarf rippling in the breeze, his leather jacket flapping slightly as they waited to board Katakuri’s ship. After a few minutes of listening to Wyleen talk about the weather, he interrupted, encasing her in his mochi with one arm, causing her to gasp, “Hold on.” He extended his other arm to glom onto the mast of the ship, swinging them both over in one swift motion. Retracting his mochi once they were on the deck of the ship, Katakuri apologized for interrupting Wyleen.

“Quite alright, I just wasn’t expecting that. I haven’t seen much of your abilities in person.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” he glanced down at her.

“Why?” She c****d her head, offering an amused smile.

“Because,” Katakuri looked down at her once more, “I really only use my mochi when fighting. I have no reason to fight you to the death.”

The sail from Whole Cake to Wheat Island was mostly uneventful; a few rolling waves to cut through, the Minister of Flour only having to ward a few of the greenhorns off with a piercing glare as they approached Wyleen to make conversation. Katakuri made sure others knew that his bride was off limits by being possessive of her. His movements and words had an edge to them as he followed her around the ship, glancing over his shoulder from time to time to glare at others.

“Minister,” a crew member said, “we will be arriving at Wheat Island shortly.”

“Thank you,” he dismissed the man with a wave. Katakuri looked at Wyleen, who was perched on his lap, looking over the sea as they sat on the deck. “Are you ready to see your new home, dear?”

Wyleen smiled excitedly at him, “Yes.”

“We will disembark in Flour Town. My residence is at the center,” he explained as the ship neared the inlet.

Looking off the side of the ship, Wyleen marveled at the structures, “Are the buildings pastries?”

“Don’t sound so surprised; it doesn’t flatter me. But, yes, they are.”

“Is that your home?” She pointed to the giant doughnut-shaped structure that could be seen from the shore.

Katakuri glanced away from her, slightly embarrassed, “Yes.” Before leaving the ship, he scooped Wyleen into his arms to carry her through the street.

“I can walk, you know,” she protested.

“You will understand why I chose to carry you, dear.”

The people of Flour Town took notice of Katakuri. Upon hearing about the Tea Party, everyone was eager to get a glimpse of his bride. Practically pushing each other over, “Is that her?” “There, in his arm, can you see her?” “What does she look like?” “Is she really a princess?”

Wyleen tucked herself into Katakuri’s arm upon hearing all the remarks about her and the pry for her attention. “I see,” she muttered, pulling the sunhat down over her face.

“You will have to get used to the attention. Though you should already be from your previous kingdom.”

“It was nothing like this,” she peeked out from under her hat. “I don’t think anyone gave a damn about me when I lived in my father’s kingdom.”

“Hm,” Katakuri kept walking through town, approaching his home with a small wake of people trailing them. “We’re here,” he stated as guards opened the door for them. Katakuri’s steps echoed in the hallways as he ascended to the top floor. Setting Wyleen down, he stood in front of a large door. “This will be our room.” Pushing the door open for her, Wyleen took a few steps in, looking around.

“It’s lovely,” she marveled at the magenta furniture, the grand drapes that covered the window looking out over Wheat Island, and the four-poster bed that was fit for a king. Katakuri closed the door behind them as Wyleen continued to look around the room.

“I’m glad you like it, kitten,” he said, picking her up, nuzzling her neck, his scarf tickling her.

Wyleen smirked, pulling his scarf down to reveal the bottom half of his face before kissing him deeply. Pressing her close to him, Katakuri kissed her back, sucking air through his teeth when Wyleen tangled her fingers in the back of his hair, pulling a bit harder than she meant to to get closer to him. “Sorry, love,” she whispered into him between kisses.

“You’re being such a little brat,” he growled, walking towards the bed. “I want you to undress for me.”

Complying, Wyleen reached behind her to unzip her dress as far as she could reach. The cotton fabric falling around her legs, she stepped out towards her lover. Katakuri hungrily ran his hands over her curves, his gloved hand caressing her face. Biting the thumb of the glove, she pulled it from his hand slowly before dropping it on the floor with her garment. “I would rather feel you touch me, not your gloves.”

Katakuri smirked, taking his other glove off before removing his scarf and jacket, “Is that better?’

“Much,” Wyleen ran her hands up his torso, tracing his tattoos while he kissed her neck, coaxing a few hums of approval from her.

Sitting her on the edge of the bed, Katakuri knelt in front of her, “Will you cooperate for me?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her hand on the top of Katakuri’s head.

Using his teeth, he pulled Wyleen’s panties from her, offering her a lustful glance before he buried his face in her nether. She gasped, the grip on his hair tightening as he traced her entrance with the top of his tongue. “So needy,” Katakuri breathed into her as he put her legs on his shoulders.

The movements of his tongue coaxed various gasps and moans from her throat. Her legs tightened around Katakuri’s head, keeping him trapped inside of her. “God, yes, just like that,” she could be heard mumbling, biting her lower lip between breaths.

Katakuri lifted his head, his lips glistening with her arousal. “Don’t forget that I’m in charge, princess,” he smirked down at her. “Don’t make me have to show you your place.”

A smug grin spread across Wyleen’s lips, “Punish me, Master Katakuri,” she cooed.

His jaw clenched at her words, his muscles twitching with the tension. Gripping the bedding at her request, he stared down at her. “You’re being very naughty,” he said roughly, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he removed his pants. Straightening up, he adjusted himself to be lined up with her entrance, Wyleen squirming with anticipation upon seeing his length. “Don’t worry, I know you can take it, girl.” Thrusting into her with a grunt, she let out a cry with the sudden pressure inside of her. Holding her hips, Katakuri moved his slowly into her until she had relaxed around him. Only then did he quicken his rhythm. “Good girl, Wylee,” he mumbled, his face flushed.

Wyleen was kissing his neck, not being shy about leaving a few marks on him. “f**k me, Katakuri,” she moaned to him. Seemingly unlocking something primal in her, Wyleen bit down on Katakuri’s muscular neck, not letting go as if he were her prey.

At the pressure of her teeth, he grabbed her hands, holding them above her, causing her to release him from her jaw. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Katakuri’s voice was low, his eyes burning as he looked into hers. Opening his mouth, he bit into her in return, his mark encasing her entire shoulder as Wyleen let out a loud moan, the delicious pain in her shoulder combined with the pleasure in her nether region starting to overwhelm her.

“Fill me, Katakuri, please,” she begged.

“Not yet,” he panted, Wyleen’s blood staining his lips and exposed teeth. “You have to wait for me, princess.” She let out a noise of protest, trying to hold her breath as the sensation between her legs overwhelmed her.

“f**k, Katakuri,” Wyleen cried, her eyes rolling back as she loudly met her climax.

“Mm, you’re so good at being bad for me,” he sighed. Gripping Wyleen’s hips tightly with his free hand, he let out a few grunts as his thrusting became erratic before he released inside of her. The sweat was dripping down his neck and chest. His muscles glistened from his exertions as he panted, and he saw his bride breathing heavily on the bed beneath him. “Dirty girl,” he muttered as he took himself out of her, lying next to her on the bed to take in her scent.

“I’m all yours,” Wyleen smirked, wiping her blood from the corner of his mouth.

“Did your stitches come out, kitten?” Katakuri traced a thumb on her bottom lip to see where the blood was coming from. “You’re alright. Go get cleaned up for me before I have my way with you again.” Wyleen giggled, walking nude across the room, hypnotizing Katakuri with the movement of her hips, the way her breasts bounced, and the way her thighs quaked with each step she took. Katakuri licked his lips at the sight, tasting the metallic taste of her blood still on his lips. Standing, he stretched as he waited for Wyleen to make her return. He wiped what he thought was sweat from his neck, surprised to see it was his own blood from the mark she had left on him.