Disclaimer: I don't own the soul or any other part of the characters of this story.

Warning: Sexual content. If you are under 18 or easily offended, then this story isn't for you. Read at your own discretion, please.

This is, up to a great extent, a lemon fic. I will try to make the obvious PWP-ness as faint as possible, but don't expect an epic plot. The pairings are: SasuSaku, hinted SasuNaru, and eventually KakaSaku. If the bold and italics don't serve as a neon sign enough for you, then I should clarify that the main, intended pairing will be, in fact, KakaSaku.

Thanks: to Novocain, my beta, for her encouragement and awesome work on my fics. To you, for giving this piece of fiction a shot. :P

The reason behind Sasuke's actions in this chapter will be explained in future instalments. This first chapter doesn't count as a full lemon, but it is guaranteed that there will be more than one in the recent future. So, keep the warning in mind, and enjoy!

Domino

When he made clear what he wanted of her in that dully authoritative voice of his, Sakura could have denied him.

It was easier said than done.

"What's wrong? Isn't this what you've always wanted?" he mocked, two cold, black, familiarly deep eyes piercing through her skull and right into her most private thoughts. She was boneless, a convenient puppet in his hands as he approached close enough to invade her personal bubble, close enough for her to see the shadows under the crease of his eyebrows. Those shadowed eyes and the hot breath fanning over the skin of her right cheekbone were proof that Sakura had just stepped on a land mine.

"Not like this." Her voice was squeaky even to her own ears. "Not here," she added, averting her eyes from the old, stained carpet to throw a quick glance around the small Suna motel room. His talk, elegant figure stood solid behind and to her side as he kept his gaze fixed on her.

His mouth curved up faintly.

"You're a virgin." It was hardly a question.

She swallowed hard and made a move to turn towards him, her old crush who had returned from darkness only to envelop her in his own. A pair of strong, stiff hands fell on either side of her shoulders, keeping her still.

"S-Sasuke..."

He moved slowly behind her, pressing his body against hers, and she felt him, warm and tall and hard, as he moved one of his hands to trace the line of her jaw. His touch held a forcedly gentle aura, one that she could tell was a facet. He didn't care. He never did. This was Sakura. Her comfort was not his top priority. There was a need pressing him, one that she could feel clearly being rubbed against cloth, muscle and bone, disrupting her composure and invading the privacy of her body.

His palm suddenly cupped the curve of her waist, elevating her to the point where the back of her neck was draped over his shoulder. He harshly licked a line from her collarbone to her windpipe - making her breath hitch as predicted - and under the sensitive bit of flesh behind her ear. He licked his bottom lip, smoothing over the coarse edges.

She had a second's warning before he caught her mouth with his. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't even arousing. It was cold, and empty, possessive, and smothering. His tongue flicked over her palate, behind her teeth, against her gums, below her tongue - and she caught his wrists, which were now holding her head in place. She wanted it to stop, but he was already done with the foreplay. She was Sakura, yes, but she was female, and that was enough for what he had in mind. He dragged her towards the edge of the bed, and she clutched him by the collar of his jounin vest, trying to keep her balance after the unexpected rotation.

"Lie down," he threw at her, already halfway through unbuttoning the khaki vest.

"You know, I'm not yours to order," she managed, fighting down the reasonable urge to either flee and the other, darker one that whispered guiltily in her mind to lie down already, spread her legs and indulge him.

His fingers paused in their flexing over the last button. He looked at her a little less indifferently. A lock of unruly, dark hair fell over his eyes, and he hastily removed it.

Sakura thought for the twentieth time that night that he was so aloof and handsome, so not there, it was dangerous.

"You're not?" he wondered absently, eyebrows lifted high in an unvoiced statement. She flinched. He wasn't in the mood for an uncooperative partner. "I won't hurt you... Sakura."

She pursed her lips but didn't make a move for the door. Psychological blackmail was one his specialties. Manipulation was one of her weaknesses.

He noted how easily her defenses crumbled, eying the girl while she tentatively sat on the edge of the double bed, looking almost scared of the creaking mattress. He proceeded to unzip his pants but didn't remove them. Classic Sakura, he thought, his mental voice tainted with a significant amount of dripping contempt.

He climbed on the bed and, clutching her by the arms, dragged her to the middle of the mattress before giving a small push. She fell back with a small plop. Balancing himself on his knees, Sasuke straddled her and leaned forward so that his mouth was directly above to her earlobe.

"There is no longer time for games... If this is what you've always wanted," he muttered, unexpectedly cupping her breast, "then you'd better be ready." With a single, forceful flick of his wrist there was a screeching sound and a gaping hole in the front of her shirt.

Sakura bit her lip, her breaths becoming increasingly ragged and erratic with each grope and nibble and inch gained by fingers hastily making their way towards the waistband of her shorts. She wanted to touch him - his hair, his shoulders, his pale face, his opacity - but there was something terribly calm and absent in the way he was handling her. Even as he pulled away the last shred of clothing from her body, his gaze wasn't loving as that of a fantasy lover, neither haunting nor sizzling – he didn't pay her normal, round breasts much attention, while the small patch of coarse pink hair below her navel was apparently an unusual enough sight for him to spare a glance, but not a second.

He made her feel vulnerable, unwanted; his small, wet toy that he could plunge into and enjoy himself with. He didn't make her feel like she wanted him, yet he was everything she had always asked for. It didn't matter, because she would have him anyway, she thought while he finally took off his pants - cloth sliding down sleek skin and strong, well-defined leg muscle - and threw them aside. He was dangerous in so many ways that she didn't want to think about. His attitude did nothing for her self-consciousness, and she acted on the urge to cover her breasts and snap her thighs tightly together. An eyebrow rose in what could have been mockery - because he was standing unaffected, shameless bordering on insolent, above her, his hardness painfully visible. He grasped the tightly muscled flesh of her hips and wedged her knees apart far enough to position himself between them, meeting only only a minimal amount of resistance. Having already won the short-lived battle of wills, he made sure the throbbing tip of his erect member was pressing between the silky, ironically wet folds of flesh that were her center and carefully steadied himself on his elbows.

Refusing to look at her face, because he knew there was nothing fascinating there except for fear, wariness, and veiled desire, he focused on her shoulder, and, in a sudden, rough thrust of his hips against hers, Sasuke took his prize.

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