The candle was red, slightly long, and—Sakura sniffed at it discretely before she immediately pulled away and made a face—smelled slightly odd. It looked like any other candle, and she would have thought it was just so if it weren't for the packaging that it had come with.
FETISH CANDLE, it announced proudly.
"Where'd you get this?" She asked, waving the candle. Madara looked up from his tablet.
"Ordered it online," he said shortly. He placed aside his tablet and uncrossed his legs, the lines of his bespoke suit emphasizing the strength of his thighs, the leanness of his body. He stood up, and Sakura couldn't help but run her eyes up and down, appraising him. Madara smirked.
"Interested?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and Sakura smiled. She gripped the candle tightly and pursed her lips together. She was, actually, but she was apprehensive all the same. The thought of having wax dripped on her seemed more like a torture method than one to bring pleasure, but Madara had already introduced her to breathplay and restraints, blindfolds and the overall rougher side of sex. This shouldn't be that different. Just a step up in a staircase she hadn't expected to be climbing just a few months back.
"I am," she finally admitted, hedging slightly in uncertainty. Madara eyed her, his gaze as intense as always. Sakura licked her dry lips and Madara's gaze dropped down to them before he raised it to meet her eyes once more.
Behind them, the news announcer on the TV droned a warning against the upcoming storm. Sakura ignored it. It was all meaningless background at this point, she only had eyes for Madara.
Madara held out his hand and Sakura made her way towards him, reaching out instinctively with her own to clasp it. He raised an eyebrow, amusement playing in the dark depths of his eyes and in the corner of his lips before he raised his other hand, the one she wasn't holding and made a motion towards the candle she was still holding onto tightly.
Sakura flushed and quickly gave it to him, dropping her hand back to her lap.
He let go of her for a moment and reached into his pocket to pull out his lighter. It was clearly cheap, a bright purple that Sakura couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at.
He pressed on the lighter, finger flicking at the wheel and the flame shot up. Sakura watched him light the candle in mild interest, her eyes tracking his hands as he raised the candle with one hand and extended his other forward, wrist exposed upwards.
He tilted the candle and Sakura watched as the wax melted and then pooled over the side, clinging to the top of the candle. And then it finally let go, dripping down on his wrist, red wax landing on Madara's skin.
A low grunt escaped him and Sakura's eyes darted over to trace the features of his face, cataloging his expression. A hint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes and he nodded to himself.
He righted the candle until it was perfectly vertical once more and then raised an expectant eyebrow at her. Sakura bit down on her inner cheeks.
"Try it?" He pushed gently. Sakura hesitated, just for a second, before she reached out and extended her wrist in the same way he did.
He squeezed her hip, hand warm, his thumb rubbing at the skin of her waist. Sakura relaxed, surprised at how unknowingly tense she actually was.
She waited, her breath held, as Madara tilted the candle once more. The hot wax dripped faster this time, already pooled at the top, and it dropped onto her exposed wrist.
"Oh," she gasped, exhaling noisily. The wax quickly cooled, a pinkish red drop marking her skin. She clenched her fist and stared in fascination as the skin tightened, pulling underneath the hardened wax in an odd sensation. Beside her, Madara silently drew the candle away and blew out the flame.
That first drop of wax on her skin was hot, but not too hot. A sharp burst of heat and pain, different from the sensation of a hard bite on her shoulder, yet the pain was the same. She didn't like getting bitten with no warning and outside of sex, but biting in the midst of the heat of sex was different, the pain worked beautifully with the pleasure.
She could already see that the candle wax would be the same way. She understood now why people would willingly do this during sex. It was the same brand of painful that was wonderful during sex, right up there with the breathlessness that choking left, and the sharpness of teeth on her shoulder.
A frisson of fear and... excitement ran through her as she stared up at Madara. She bit her lip, teeth digging into the flesh before she released it along with a heavy breath.
She swallowed.
"Yes."
xxx
The crest of the Uchiha, the uchiwa fan, signified the fiery nature of its people. While it had its uses as a fan, to keep cool in the summer, an uchiwa fan could also be used to fan flames, giving it oxygen necessary to make it burn hotter, brighter, bigger. The red high on the symbol represented the flame, and as it transitioned into a hotter one, it turned white, the lower part of the fan.
Some had taken it to represent the fire inside the Uchiha, their passion, and how once slighted, burned painfully. Their people didn't just feel but felt strongly. It was evident in the intensity of their actions, their words, their fight.
And while Madara couldn't deny that part was true-he took pride in it, in fact-there was an interpretation that he felt partial to as the clan head.
He was the fan helping people who burned to burn even brighter, to push them with their passions, to encourage them to strive and become bigger, better. And as he fanned the flames of those he saw potential in, in and outside his clan, he felt that he himself was worthy to judge whose flames needed to be snuffed out.
A fan had two purposes, after all, and it would be a shame to just use one.
Madara's eyes traced over Sakura's back. She was splayed out across his sheets, the deep blue underneath her a sweet contrast to the paleness of her skin. The red candle wax would look even better on her. He could already imagine the drops of red marking her skin, an abstract path over the flawless expanse of her back.
Beautiful.
Haruno Sakura was a fire that the Uchiha had discovered, small, but brimming with so much potential that Madara couldn't help but intervene with his presence. He was the one to make her great. He was the one to stoke her passions both in her ambitions and in bed higher and higher until she burned hot and bright.
And he was the one lucky enough to have her in his bed. In his lap, on his desk, in front of him on her knees. Every single way he wanted to have her, he did.
This was just one more way he wanted to have her, and he was sure that she would satisfy.
She always did.
xxx
The click of the lighter echoed through the room and Sakura's breath hitched just a little. She tensed, her mind racing through possibilities of what it would feel like. She had already felt for herself how hot the wax was, but her body had already forgotten, anxious at what was coming.
The anticipation was killing her. She could see nothing, all she could feel was Madara above her, his strong thighs bracketing her sides, and the sheets on her front, soft and cool against her skin. She focused on the weight of him, the feel of his body comforting and helping her mind to settle.
She trusted him, even if her friends told her not to. With her body, in this, and even with her heart.
When the candle wax finally heated and dripped down to land solidly on her back, she wasn't prepared.
The bright burst of heat and pain forced a loud cry out of her mouth, her body jolting at the surprising intensity of it.
"Oh god!" she gasped. The skin on her back was much more sensitive than her wrist, and the hot wax felt different, more intense, louder.
The next drop of wax still managed to surprise her, a pinprick of heat in another spot of her back, just as intense as the first. She squeezed her thighs together, a whimper of pleasure-pain escaping from her lips, her own body confused at what it was feeling.
Above her, the wax continued to burn steadily, the dripping of the candle coming faster now as Madara continued to tilt and guide it in a mindless path. Each drop over her back sent her crying out, her body writhing on the sheets as it struggled to decide between moving away or staying underneath the onslaught of a kind of pleasure-pain she had never felt before.
It was intense, her body aching, Sakura whining. The pain never dulled, never slid into the background, as if it couldn't bear to be ignored. Each drop was new, a burning kiss of wax across her back that sent her world reeling and off tilt.
She couldn't bear it. Madara moved the wax further down, a trail of literal heat down the curve of her back. When the wax landed hot and heady over the top of her ass, Sakura's surprised gasp felt like it was punched out of her, leaving her winded. The continued drips of wax on her butt sent shocking bursts of pleasure up her spine, her cries louder than ever. It was much more intense, the heat bright and loud on the sensitive skin of her ass, her nails digging in painfully on the sheets as she tried hard to grip onto her sanity.
The pain and the heat built and built, tilting on the edge of painful pleasure and just plain pain, her whole world narrowing down to the small of her back and her ass and to the steady drips of hot wax.
She didn't—She couldn't—
"Stop!" She sobbed. It was too much for her, too good, too painful, too wonderful and horrible, and almost immediately Madara pulled the candle away, extinguishing it with a short blow.
Sakura melted into the sheets and she pressed her face into the pillow, chest heaving, her body aching in relief and want, glad that the candle was gone but still wanting it again and again and again.
"Sakura."
She took a moment to gulp in air, her fingers unclenching themselves from her sheets, her heart thudding loud against her heaving chest. She would have taken a few more moments to contain herself, but Madara was waiting for her answer, and she knew he didn't like to be kept waiting. Slowly, she turned her head to press her cheek against the soft pillow, her eyes lifting to meet his.
His onyx eyes observed her, intense heat contained in them as he took in her features.
"Enjoyable?" he asked. Sakura licked her lips, and it was with satisfaction that she noted his gaze drop to them, a brief crack in the otherwise coolness of his façade. His eyes flicked back up to hers, and Sakura nodded.
"Yes," she answered, her voice breathy. Madara smiled in satisfaction, the curve of his lips the definition of smug as he regarded her.
"On your knees," he ordered briskly, and Sakura quickly complied. She lifted her body up to get on her hands and knees, still facing away from Madara. The skin underneath the drops of dried wax pulled and stretched, an odd sensation that pulled pleasure from inside her along with a tiny whimper.
Behind her, Madara waited patiently as she arranged herself, her back curved the way he liked it.
A large, heavy hand splayed across her back, rubbing against the wax, and Sakura made a small noise. He slid it up her spine, the calluses of his hands rubbing against the wax in the way. It flaked off, little bits of red wax that stayed on her back. He threaded his fingers through her hair and Sakura inhaled, ready for him to pull it back and expose her vulnerable throat.
But no, all Madara did was run his fingers through it, combing it. She stayed silent as he gathered up her shoulder-length hair together, his hands gentle as he tied it into a simple bun high on her head. He leaned in, the muscles of his chest firm against her back as he kissed the back of her neck, lips soft and dry.
Sakura tilted her neck, giving him more space to kiss along the length of it if he wished, but Madara only gave her one more kiss, this one with the teasing nip of teeth, before he pulled away.
He was being so gentle with her, so different from the rough play they usually favored, and it played a strange juxtaposition with the heat and the burn of the wax. Perhaps that was why he touched her so carefully. The wax was painful enough.
Just as she accepted the careful way he would treat her tonight, he moved his hand only to push in between her shoulder blades, her front pressed on the sheets in front of her, ass up and exposed.
She grunted as she landed on her elbows and gasped, arching further and pushing her ass up as his hips melded against hers. She could feel how hard he was behind her, the firm swell of his cock insistent against her and making her moan in need.
"Madara, please," she begged, voice pitching into a desperate whine.
His grip tightened on her shoulder and Sakura squeezed her eyes shut, rocking back on her knees to press up and grind against him.
"Behave." Madara's ensuing slap at her rear was as sharp as his reprimand.
She made a low noise of displeasure but stayed still, obedient in her defiance.
The rustle of cloth came as a relief to her, anticipation revving up inside of her. She wiggled, spreading her legs further apart to the background of the zipper going down and the sound of Madara adjusting his position behind her.
He ran a finger up her folds, just brushing against her sensitive clit and Sakura jolted, a gasp of surprise escaping her. He dipped his finger in, a tease, before he went back to the most sensitive part of her. His fingers rubbed at her insistently, waves of pleasure crashing over her, and Sakura couldn't help but rock her hips against his hand, desperate for more even as her moans echoed throughout the room. With every pass over her clit and her entrance, she grew wetter and wetter, her moans increasing to a volume she'd be embarrassed by later.
The pleasure quickly built inside of her, the unrelenting assault of his fingers pushing her roughly up to the edge and sending her gasping for air. Every twitch and arch of her back as she moved against his hand made the dried wax on her back pull at her skin, the added sensation only adding pleasure to her impending orgasm.
When he leaned in to bite her roughly on her shoulder, Sakura felt as if she was shoved off a cliff, breathless pleasure racing down her spine as she clenched on nothing, her thighs shaking and her pussy so slick and wet against his fingers.
It came so easy for him to guide his cock inside of her, her body relaxed yet her insides were tight around him. He couldn't hilt himself fully inside of her, even with the foreplay he hadn't fingered her or stretched her out, but she was so wet, the sound of it loud and arousing as he rocked his hips. It took little for him to press fully inside of her, his length and thickness stretching her blissfully.
She was always so caught off guard with how big he felt, how he seemed to fill her up so well, just the way she wanted. And even with him already inside of her, she was still so desperate for him to fuck her properly.
When he pulled out and thrusted back inside her, Sakura rocked her hips in time, crying out at just how amazing it felt to have him so deep and hard, just where she wanted him.
"You're beautiful," Madara praised, voice rough, his hands coming down to grip her hips tightly. She had no room to move anymore as he started to pull her back into his thrusts, her whole body under his control as he fucked into her.
Her moans of pleasure morphed into almost sobs, her body wracked with pleasure as his cock drove into her with an intensity that set her scrambling for purchase on his sheets.
"Madara!" She sobbed, and almost screamed when he stilled, still inside of her, his hands leaving her hips. "No," she protested, "Don't stop."
The click of the lighter was almost too soft to be heard over the blood that was rushing in her ears, and Sakura stiffened, her breath catching. A hand ran up her back to soothe her, pressing her chest back down to the bed.
He started to move again, his cock stretching her as he pushed in and out, anticipation causing her to tighten around him in an almost painful grip.
Her breathing deepened, her body trembling slightly, her pupils blown wide and her hands clenched—
"Fuck!" She cried out as the first drop of wax landed on her back to join the dried flakes left behind.
Madara continued to thrust into her, his movement jerky now, almost uncoordinated compared to before. He couldn't focus on just simply fucking her, not with the lit candle in hand and his objective to mark every single inch of her back. None of that mattered, just the weight and the feel of him thrusting into her was enough. Another drop of wax splattered on her, and she felt as if all her air was yanked out.
She was left helpless as Madara continued to drop a line down her back, never focusing on one place for too long as he continued to fuck her. The pleasure-pain was making her insane, the combination of hot liquid and his cock inside her intoxicating. She didn't know if she wanted him to stop, the sensations too intense as it teetered in a balancing act over too much and so fucking good.
Her eyes welled up in tears, the only sounds escaping her were cries and gasps and moans, protests and pleas to stop so far from her mind right then.
Madara continued, soft grunts escaping him as she writhed underneath him, her body clenching around him. The wax continued to drip down her back. She had thought that she would get used to it, but it came at unpredictable intervals, each drop was just as painful good and hot as the one before, only adding to the sensation.
If she had thought that his tests on her back were amazing and horrible and wonderful, it was nothing compared to how it felt now combined with the pleasure-pain of fucking itself.
Madara abruptly pulled out, holding the candle to the side, and Sakura didn't know whether her sob was in relief or in distress.
"Turn over," he ordered and Sakura scrambled to obey, whimpers escaping her as the tender skin on her back pulled and tightened once more against the dried wax. As she lied down, her back itched against the sheets, but she had no time to dwell on it as he lifted up one of her legs and thrust inside of her.
She moaned, her eyes wide as she stared up at Madara. He sketched an imposing figure, built lean and strong, chest and abs a wonderful sight.
He moved his other arm back, candle in tow and Sakura's gaze snapped to it. She gripped tight on his sheets, her eyes locked on the heated, liquid wax as it pooled to the side and—
She cried out as it dropped, even before it hit the skin of her stomach. It felt impossibly different when she could see it heat and drop onto her skin, the anticipation of waiting for it not gone, but lessened as she watched it gather at the side of the candle before falling, falling, finally landing with a burst of heat.
Madara's thrusts came easier now, a steady in and out that stoked the fire inside of her higher and higher as he filled her and hit all the right places. He rested the hand holding the candle on her leg, tipping it over her stomach and her chest. Drops landed on her skin, all the way up to her breasts, a hundred times more sensitive than her back.
It felt hotter, better, much more intense, and Sakura was slack-jawed with pleasure, an endless series of moans tumbling over and out of her mouth without her control.
A drop of wax landed on her nipple and Sakura yelped, thrashing, but Madara quickly held her down with his free hand. His palm spread out high over her chest, so close to her throat that when she swallowed, it moved against his hand.
"Do you want me to restrain you?" he chided, dipping a line of wax from her sternum to the top of her bellybutton. Each drop sent her jolting, struggling against his grip. His question stayed dull in her mind, unimportant compared to the sensation she was feeling, but when Madara asked again, his hand near her throat pressing down hard, she was forced to think.
"No," she moaned, and Madara's lips thinned. She couldn't think, couldn't stop to assess his face to see if he was disappointed.
Madara brought the candle away and extinguished it, dropping it carelessly over the side of his bed. Sakura felt a brief pang of disappointment and relief all in one, but Madara didn't let her dwell. He started to move once more, and it was so easy for him to build up her pleasure again.
The wax had been a wonderful horrible beautiful intense thing, but this? Their bodies moving together, Madara's body on top of hers, his hands moving up her skin, his lips on hers-she loved it, she adored it. It was enough to bring her to the very edge once more, her cries of pleasure stifled by his mouth.
And then - and then -
Sakura fell apart, her whole world crashing around her as she arched up against Madara, a soundless scream ripping through her throat, her eyes clenched painfully tight as she scrabbled for purchase, hands desperate on the sheets, on his back, in his hair.
"Fuck!" She yelled, and Madara groaned, burying his face in her neck as his thrusts turned frantic and rough, his hips smacking across her ass before he abruptly pulled out. His hand came up to jerk his thick cock that was wet from her before he came all over her stomach with a long, drawn-out groan.
xxx
Beneath him, Sakura visibly struggled to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she stared up at him with blatant awe.
Greedily, his eyes took in her debauched state. She was splayed out across his sheets, and the creamy white finish splattered over her stomach set off the pinkish red wax long dried over her skin. Her breasts and her stomach were covered with little drops of wax, and he couldn't help but admire how aesthetically pleasing it looked.
The drops of red and white were beautiful against her skin, the navy blue of his sheets on her back intensifying it. There was a slight red flush of her chest all the way up to her neck, and Madara was tempted to lean in and add his own marks alongside the wax.
"Beautiful," he murmured in praise, and Sakura smiled. She dropped her legs, arching her back in a pleased stretch, and Madara's dick gave an aborted twitch at the sight of her supple breasts presented to him.
"Clean me up, please." Sakura nudged him with her leg and with a sigh, Madara stood up. His eyes darted back over her chest, and a wicked grin spread over his lips. He'd have to get rid of the way in some way, and he felt like it would be just as fun to pick it off.
xxx
The lights were off, the house devoid of any electronics. Rain battered down the roof, thunder almost shaking the house as flashes of light crossed the window.
He held up his phone, its flashlight bright and Sakura clutched onto his arm.
"Izuna went to look for the emergency lights," Sakura told him and Madara nodded. The thud of feet against the floor echoed from the hallway and Madara turned.
His phone lit up Izuna who had a candle in hand and a disgruntled expression on his face.
"I can't find the lamp," he grumbled, but Madara wasn't paying attention. He stared at the red candle in Izuna's hand, heat rising up to his cheeks. Beside him, Sakura stiffened, obviously recognizing it herself.
Izuna took in their expressions and frowned. "You can just use your phones if you don't want to use the candle, but I don't know when we're getting electricity back so."
"No, it's fine!" Sakura squeaked. "The candle's good."
Madara coughed. "Sakura loves it, actually."
Sakura hissed and roughly elbowed him on the side, but Izuna didn't even seem to notice.
"Really? Well, I guess," Izuna replied skeptically. "I'll look again, either way."
Izuna left, taking away the fetish candle with him. It was only when he was out of view that Sakura started to laugh hysterically.
"Madara!" She protested, stifling her giggles into his shoulder.
"Think we should tell him?" Madara asked, chuckling just a bit.
"No!"