The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the air thick with the scent of incense. The reality of your situation was settling in—you were now married to Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the untouchable force of the Gojo Clan. It wasn’t a love match. It was an arrangement, a duty. A mere merging of bloodlines, ensuring that the legacy of the Gojo Clan remained pure and powerful.

And yet, despite the weight of expectations, Gojo carried himself with the same nonchalance he always did. His cocky smirk had been present all day, his teasing remarks making it seem as though this was just another game to him. You weren’t sure what to expect on this night—would he be gentle? Would he take his time? Would he try to make this something memorable? Would he be rough?

"You nervous?" he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.

He chuckled, leaning in, his lips grazing your forehead before trailing down your cheek. His touch was warm, intoxicating in its own way, and for a moment, you let yourself sink into it.

What followed, however, was… unexpected.

The anticipation had built up, your body ready for something more, something overwhelming. And then—

It was over.

Satoru groaned lowly, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as his weight settled atop you. His breathing was uneven, his fingers gripping your waist as if he had just conquered the most difficult battle of his life.

Two minutes.

Your arms were still wrapped around his back, your fingers unconsciously running through his soft white hair as you stared at the ceiling in sheer confusion. Your heart pounded in your chest, but not from pleasure—no, it was the sheer disbelief of what had just transpired.

Satoru, oblivious, let out a content sigh, nuzzling into your neck. "Damn," he muttered, chuckling to himself. "That was something, huh?"

You bit your lip, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. He hadn’t noticed your lack of reaction, hadn’t realized that while he had reached his peak, you had been left stranded at the starting line.