It makes sense, she has to reluctantly admit. It makes sense and she knows it's a good thing, but there's something dark that twists and grumbles about it all. She didn't want gentle or careful. She wanted it to hurt, she wanted it all stripped away from her because isn't it the least she deserved? To be hurt, to be punished... And at the sametime, she doesn't. She likes this, the gentle voice and being able to pretend this is something more akin to making love.

And she wanted to hurt (and not hurt) him too. He'd look lovely pressed down against the sheets of a bed or the ground, his hair splayed out and a blindfold (bandages?) over his eyes. But no, that wouldn't do either because she'd ant to see his eyes, his expression if there was the threat of going juuusstt a little too far, of not being able to stop before something terrible happened. There were all sorts of specific points on someone's body you could use to your advantage if you knew where to find them. And Mikan did.

It's a terrible duality that wars inside of her (dark and light, hope and despair), and she whimpers, knowing shamefully that there's very little he could do that she wouldn't like or react enthusiastically to. She knows, too, that if given the chance she could really damage him in return, but she thinks, maybe, he might not mind it so much himself either.

The kiss is met with a soft moan, as if that was all she needed, and her fingers curl into his shirt again to pull him closer. There's a hint of aggression to her movements and her kiss, her breathing harsh as she breaks the kiss to answer. "Please." A plead, that's almost said more like a command. Less 'please touch me,' and more 'you better touch me.'