Hey hey, Its me again ^^ I haven't really done any writing in a very long time, so i'm easing back into it slowly, doing one shots and drabbles until my muse gets a good kick in the pants...guess my username is a little more apt than i thought *blush* anyway, this drabble ficlet has to do with my oc, Tsuya Hatake, who is paired with Shikamaru...Yeah yeah, i get it "oh god, another Kakashi-daughter fic..." trust me, this is a little different than the norm, and i will be giving this a few more chapter drabbles. Anyway, read, review and enjoy...I hope you like it ^^
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto nor do i own Shikamaru or Kakashi...do you really think i'd be posting here if i did? :P
He stood there, vest off, clad only in his black shirt and pants, watching as she brushed her hair slowly, the silver locks by her ear glinting in the candle light. Slouched against the door frame, he watched as her hand reached up, wielding the comb from the top of her head before pulling it down to the ends rhythmically. He felt hypnotised, a victim of his own shadow jutsu, frozen as she performed the most basic of acts.
Heat pooled to his stomach, her silken strands beckoning and teasing him. Mouth going dry, he watched the seductive play, his hands clenching hard in his pockets. She was teasing him; she had to know he was there, watching her.
Her Kimono was draped off one shoulder, like the way she would tease him, saying she had a 'cut' that needed him to see to. There never was a cut, but boy did he enjoy kissing her better. The comb caught a knot, eliciting a sharp gasp. That was it, he couldn't take more. He stalked forward, kneeling up behind her and grabbing her hair into his fist.
"Lean back," he growled, his lips moving across her smooth neck. Her body pressed against him, her back against his torso, her head leaning against his clavicle. This was what he loved, her body pressed against him, completely willing and trusting.
Reaching around her with his other hand, he undid her loose obi, thrusting his cold hand against her warm stomach. Fire laced through his veins as she gasped and pressed closer to him, her blue eyes holding onto his dark ones. Holding firm against her long hair he looked at her harshly.
"Take the kimono off," his voice was harsh, guttural. She whimpered lightly, slipping the soft silk off so that it pooled around her waist. The shadows on his face made him dark, dangerous, his features harsh and drawn. Without regard to the fragile silk, he tossed it to the side, leaving her sitting against him in her bandaged bindings and her tiny dark shorts.
"Weren't we meant to go to the festival?" she whispered, her chest heaving as she struggled to keep from moaning. His mouth attacked her neck, kissing, sucking, biting, and leaving his mark above where he knew the neck line of her Kimono would be.
"Don't care; I've had it with you teasing me, Tsuyā-Hime," he breathed into her ear before biting the lobe. A cry was ripped from her throat as her hands clenched the material on his thighs.
"Sh-shika," she moaned, stuttering as his hand crept from her stomach, kneading the flesh hidden beneath the bindings. Like a cat, she began rubbing her body against him, arching as he nibbled, playing her body like a finely tuned instrument. Letting go of her hair, he nuzzled the silver streak just above her ear lightly, inhaling the scent of her jasmine bathing oils.
Frustrated at the muted touch beneath her bindings, Tsuyā reached behind her, arching her back to undo the knot and tore the fabric off of her, forcing her lover's hands back onto her chest. His growl vibrated through their bodies as he none-too-gently pushed her to the reed mat beneath them. Lying on her back, she watched, wide-eyed as he straddled her, his mouth attacking her collar bone, kissing, biting, licking his way down to her chest. Panting, swept away with his hungry, animalistic lust, her hands buried themselves into his hair, crying out loudly as he tugged at her nipple with his teeth.
She was hot, aching, wanting something she definitely wasn't sure she was ready for, but she couldn't help it, she was on fire. One of his hands held her arms captive above her head, preventing her touching him as he teased her, tortured her. A sob escaped her throat as he shifted himself between her thighs, wrapping her legs around her waist and rubbing up against her, gifting her with some relief.
He thrust against her, a helpless whimpering escaping his lips as his hand flexed unconsciously against her thigh. Bruises bloomed; evidence of the night would last for days. The zipper of his pants rubbed against her in the right spot, his hardness pressing from behind it. She tugged herself free from his hand, her own grasping at his back, clawing, as soon as they were able. So close, so close.
She arched with a guttural cry, falling limp beneath him as he thrust against her, once, twice, then shuddering harshly, panting into her neck. A wet spot bloomed on his pants, the cooling liquid uncomfortable and sticky against her own soaked shorts.
Staring up at the ceiling, she stoked his hair softly, trying to catch her breath. What had just occurred? He was heavy on top of her, their ardour cooled and messy.
"Tch, troublesome woman," he murmured into her neck, kissing it lightly before looking at her in the eye. "This is what happened, Tsuyā-hime, when you tease me too much," he kissed her softly. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
She stared up at him, her eyes wide and shocked. Softly she shook her head, swallowing thickly. "Uh...wow."
He let out a chuckle. "I need to clean up and change, and I think you need to as well." He kissed her nose. "Fifteen minutes and then we'll go to the festival, ne?" Nodding, she shivered as a cool breeze caressed her shoulders. Cuddling into him, she took a moment to just breathe. "Come, hime-chan, they're expecting us."