Author's Note: Angst. What can I say. I love it. It's a guilty pleasure of mine. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: IDNON, BIDHTOS! And the lyrics used are the sole property of Red, who I chose for the emotional merit and validity of this oneshot. Nothing more.
Prompts: Already Over (Part 2) by Red, Endings which lack new beginnings, Regret.
Summary: One night. That's all I ask. In which Sakura is disillusioned, and Sasuke reluctantly obliges.
/Can be considered a kind of sequel to "Ignorance Is Bliss", but is relatively standalone. /
Rating: M (For obvious reasons)
Categories: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Sasukeluva 4eva presents;
One Night
Sasuke x Sakura Lemon Oneshot
He turned his mildly surprised gaze to the shrunken figure fidgeting nervously by his bedroom's alcove. The headphone that he had pinched between his thumb and forefinger fell soundlessly from his grip. This was not what he had been anticipating when the pinkette had approached him tentatively at school for the first time in eighteen months to make a request of him (all too aware of the snide and almost suffocating glares that were being shot in her direction via his new "posse"; they truly despised her very presence-even more so the closeness that she had once had with him).
She had asked quietly if she could see him that evening after her extensive cramming session with her relentless tutor Tsunade; that woman was a demon in disguise, without a doubt, he thought with a subtle shudder of derision. It was a wonder that the pink haired teen could tolerate her domineering personality, being so frail and shy in comparison.
He, of course, was not one to answer in the typical manner, merely shrugging, before turning on his heel and walking away, casting her a cursory glance that seemed to say 'Whatever', before he made his grand exit with a trail of dopey dolts stumbling down the hallway after him.
Turning her down was impossible; she lived next door, after all. She only had to clamber over the nearby sakura tree and presto; she was once again reacquainted with his balcony's wooden planks.
(He cursed his mother to holy hell for choosing the mansion that happened to reside so close to his "on-again off-again would-be friend now stalker".)
And she had done so, taking his offhand gaze as a solid invitation to do so.
Her eyes, brighter than the gemstones that their colour embodied, glittered dimly in the softly lit room, their usual shine all but lost. What was he thinking? That—the glossy life that had once defined them, had once separated her entity from the dismal masses of society—had been gone for years now; his bitter rejection of her and her feelings had settled that disparity with little difficulty.
But smothering her fancy of him was another matter; obviously, he had not done enough to break her apart, because what she was asking of him only stood in testament to the strength of her resolve. She was by no means a confident soul, a tender and meek little girl that paled in comparison to the stunning women of the world that bowed down at his feet with every dignified step he took, but there was something within the very depths of her being that drew people to her; a magnetism that could not be denied, even by him.
He almost wanted to smash his head through a window-such was the turmoil he felt. He did not take pleasure in hurting her by any means, but the thought of crushing her dreams of ever being loved by him (in the same way that she apparently did him) was too much to bear; he would sooner play the antagonist in her little nightmare than admit he felt nothing but fondness for her. That would surely destroy her, and he could not stomach the implications of such cruelty, no matter how selfish or two-faced the reasoning.
Illogical, yes, but most definitely practical. It was all he could do to keep her from falling into absolute pieces and slipping through the cracks of something far more unsavoury.
What she was doing now was merely skating over the depths; she had yet to plunge into them, and he would do everything in his power to prevent that from occurring. It was the very least he could do in order to salvage her sanity.
But evidently something had slipped up in that department; he had miscalculated the true depth of her feelings for him, and that had been his undoing. Distance and the cold-shoulder had done nothing to snuff out the smouldering heat of her love, as it had only intensified, to such an extreme extent that she had resorted to this; her final, ditch attempt at garnering his attentions.
Well she had them now.
"You want me to... what...?"
He looked at her cryptically, and no matter how hard she tried to decipher his expression, he kept it schooled into nothingness. He was devoid of any and all indicators that would have clued her into his thoughts on her proposition, and it frustrated her to no ends. The nervous knots of anxiety furled into taut balls as she held his stern, sharp gaze with unsure eyes. There goes all of her former gusto; jittery nerves were all that had settled in its place.
She had known full well that he would be cynical, even appalled, at the notion she had presented him with, but she had to do something. She needed to confirm that it was truly over, that they could be nothing more to each other than unhappy strangers. Only then would she find resolution. No matter how much it would hurt, she had nothing left to lose. He was all that she had ever wanted, the only one worth fighting for, but now that he had deigned her unfit of his time, she was lost, with no means of staying afloat.
She was drowning in this torment, his torment, and could not find her bearings no matter how hard she tried. It didn't help that his new "friends" spurred on her descent into the watery grave, the one that he had created within the hole that he had left in the wake of his absence and scathing mistreatment; she felt even weaker in her resolve to battle the high tide of his cutting betrayal, and break through the liquid membrane to find buoyancy atop the anarchy (because of them).
They had bastardised her, turning her into a social leper, and she loathed them endlessly for it. Her precious 'Sasuke-kun' had done little to dissuade them of their calculated cruelty, and she almost disliked him for it. Almost. She loved him more than her heart or mortal coil could withstand, and the burdensome load weighed heavily upon her conscience. Some things just never changed, no matter no hard she tried to make it happen—life was funny in that regard.
It had little sympathy, and an ironically caustic sense of humour, for the joke it was playing on her derived no amusement whatsoever from the disheartened wreck of emotion that was shifting her weight restlessly, whilst her love assessed her less than prone form with cold ebony irises (so, so beautiful when they were smiling with blatant hilarity).
His lips parted, but he paused as an afterthought hit him. Whatever he had been intending to say must have been awfully rude, as he had to censor his own thought process and place careful emphasis on the wording he chose before he finally spoke.
(She knew him too well, and a bitter smile titled at her weary, saddened lips at the realisation that he had had to do so at all.)
"What is it that you hope to achieve from all of this?" He gestured to himself and his surroundings, the bed he was sitting on the actual focus of his vague gesticulation.
She could say nothing in response, her gaze flickering to the stain on the carpet at her feet that he had absentmindedly made when sipping on some of his father's expensive vintage when nobody but her was the wiser. It bore an eerie resemblance to blood.
A clicking of irritation sounded, and the young rosette smiled softly at the familiarity of the response. Some habits truly did die hard, and that ill-tempered tongue was one of many that had yet to be schooled into neutrality (like his expressions when faced with her, so guarded and off-putting that she would spend the entire afternoon crying from the sheer intensity of his contempt).
"Answer me, Sakura." She stiffened at the sound of her name, which sounded foreign upon his lips. When was the last time that he had addressed her as such? She could not remember. Raising her head from its intent staring-contest with the floor, said girl fixed her sights upon the eerily quiet frame of her unrequited love, who stared back unflinchingly when she finally steeled herself for his inevitable perusal.
Several times did she part her own orifice to speak, but she could neither find the right words, nor properly vocalise them so that he would understand her intentions. She was not doing this as a means of selling herself off. Her virginity meant a lot more than that to her. It was almost as sacred to her as her love for this raven haired enigma before her. But she needed him to comprehend the seriousness of her plea. She needed him to realise that this wasn't just an excuse to 'get some' from the infamous playboy Uchiha Sasuke.
She needed him to know that this was her own way of cutting the strings that bound them so loosely together, of saying the final 'goodbye'. He mightn't have needed the courtesies, but she did, and even if her request was blowing it way out of proportion (avant guarde was what popped into her mind, before she squashed it relentlessly), it was the only plausible way of doing so effectively.
Her mind was made. Now it was all up to him to decide if she was deserving of such an honour.
His hooded gaze remained steady as he determined the verity behind her... Whatever you could call such a risqué proposal. No, not risqué, for as forward as it was of her, Sakura was by no means a slut. He knew that much, and he also knew how huge of a deal this was for her; she was virtually proffering her purity to him on an open all-you-can-eat platter, something that she had been adamant about saving until marriage, and was waiting on him to deliver the final verdict.
He didn't know whether to crack under the pressure, or refuse her upfront.
All he did know was that the ends did not justify the means, not in this case; she was setting herself up for further heartbreak, and he wasn't confident in being the sole cause of its happening in the first place.
Doing this... Would do nothing but serve as a constant reminder of what she would never have.
And that was too cruel a punishment for anyone to dish out, no matter how steely and cold they may appear to be on the outside.
He was of no exception to this.
"J-Just once... This one time... C-Can you... Pretend that I mean something to you, anything...? Can I... Fool myself into believing that you actually still care about me, for one night?"
His eyes locked with hers.
"One night with you. That's all I ask. I'll never bother you again. You can move on... A-And so can I... S-So please... One night. Let me love you for one more night."
The tears from within her heart trickled painfully down her cheeks, an agonising burn ripping its way through her tightened chest as she found her voice, and gave insight into her request. Sasuke held his ground, an almost vacant glean clouding his onyx orbs as he processed her words to the very fullest.
When there was no noticeable change in his withering expression, Sakura quailed, shrinking further into herself as she shuffled back towards the only exit that led straight to her bedroom. "I-I'm s-sorry... Th-That was too selfish of me... I-I'll let myself out now... J-Just forget that I said anyth—"
With a swiftness that startled her into silence, Sasuke stood, towering over her smaller frame as he strode across the carpeted floor in order to close the distance between them (only the physical, for the emotional gap was too wide to stitch back together again). His large, calloused hand (practiced from archery, kendo and guitar playing) snapped out and settled around her tiny wrist in a vicelike hold that resembled a python's death-grip, tugging her to a shocking halt.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" She was surprised by his question, and found herself incapable of forming a coherent response.
"There's no going back from this; you'll be giving me your body to use and abuse to my every whim, and you will get nothing in return for that sacrifice. Are you sure you can live with the consequences of your actions after tonight is over?"
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* .*.*.
Can you really stop loving me if I give myself to you?
.
..
.
One can only hope...
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* .*.*.
A deft nod and a sad, watery smile were his only reply, but he took it with a grain of salt. If she decided to chicken out, if she gave even a sliver of self-doubt off, he would cease this nonsense, this foolishness, once and for all. It was her decision, and she would have to live with the grief and the repercussions, not him, so proceeding with her whimsy wasn't all that difficult.
(Or so he thought.)
He sighed, running his remaining hand through his bangs, before returning his aloof gaze to her introverted figure in order to gauge her expression.
She looked nervous, but determined, and he had to commend her for her strength in spirit; at least that hadn't abandoned her since the last time that they had spoken.
"Fine. For one night, I will oblige you. For one night, I'll love you as you want me to."
Sakura's eyes widened a fraction, snapping up to meet his own. His expression was bland. To him, this was the equivalent of a stock exchange, or a business transaction. But to her... This moment, it meant everything.
She had thought that he would be a brusque lover, but he was anything but. In seconds, his eyes, once detached and severe, warmed to the liquid onyx that she loved so dearly, a heat and intensity contained within them that had her tummy doing pleasant bellyflops. The firm set of his mouth quirked into that of a soft smile, causing hot tingles to shoot up her spine and raise the hairs upon her arms. She had not seen that beautiful sight in a very long time.
His hand, the one clutching her wrist in an almost painful manner, loosened its hold, before falling away from the afflicted area altogether, his long, manicured fingers ghosting their way up to the base of her neck. He cupped the heated flesh there, before brushing the long strands of pastel pink over her shoulder, exposing the creamy white hue that made up her complexion to his sights.
He played a sensual game of tickling her most sensitive veins and arteries, brushing against her jowls and eliciting a soft moan in response. Slipping his hand into her hair so that he cradled the back of her skull against his large, warm palm, Sasuke leaned in, his intentions all too clear to Sakura, who flushed scarlet in response.
She did not resist as he held her, fixed in place by her own inhibitions, and his remaining hand, which had clamped itself in a gentle embrace around her closest wrist, and brought it up to hover over his shoulder. What she chose to do from there was completely up to her.
He tilted his head, silky raven bangs dusting against the hollows of her eyes and cheeks as he bent down, lips parted and barely a whisper's breadth from her own, which were moist from the heat of his breath fanning against her face. At such a close proximity, it wasn't any wonder.
There was a pregnant pause, almost as if he was reconsidering his decision, before he closed the gap between their mouths, a light pressure acquainting itself with hers for the very first time. An electric shock ripped through her body in response. This was everything that she had been yearning for, and more. He applied more force to his lips, which parted hers enough so that his tongue could invade the velvety confines of her cavern, and her body melted with a sigh of relief. Finally!
There was a genuine need, desire, in that kiss, one that Sasuke could not have feigned, even if he had tried to. A need for her to receive the love that she deserved; even if he wasn't the one (deserving) capable of giving it to her. He kissed her like she was the only one in the world, like she meant the world and then some to him. He kissed her like she was the oxygen that he needed in order to breathe, to survive, because it was all that she had keened for from him.
He lived up to the expectation because it was the only way he could demonstrate his affection for her. It was not love or lust that drove him, but the childish obligation to protect her heart from getting hurt; even though he was soon to be the one to break it.
She moaned, and a biological need arose within him; regardless of who she was, he was still a young man, and she an attractive (beautiful) young woman, and he could appreciate the value of that sentiment to its fullest capacity. A heated burning filled his gut, churning his insides as that all too familiar ache began to rise in protest within his pants, and he tugged her closer, seeking refuge in her warmth.
Sakura almost squeaked in mortification when she felt the rapidly hardening bulge in her love's jeans, but it was lost in a flurry of movements which resulted in her arms being wrapped around his neck and her thighs tangling precariously around his narrow hips. He pressed her back against the glass of his alcove's door, lips peeling away from hers for a moment in order to inhale some much needed oxygen, a thin trail of saliva connecting their mouths together.
His lukewarm eyes went up several notches in intensity as he pressed tender butterfly kisses to her cheek (making sure to tease the corner of her mouth, her lips trembling cutely in response), chin and jawline before sucking on her pulse, teeth grazing at the flesh and causing a whimper to spill from between soft pants and moans.
A purplish bruise was her reward, the tangible proof of his ministrations.
He continued on a warpath, kissing and sucking his way down her throat, his hips pulsating and gyrating in a steady back and forth motion in order to ease the burning desire that had settled between his legs, tilting them upwards occasionally (in an evidently teasing fashion) to brush against the rapidly moistening area that the pinkette blatantly refused to acknowledge due to her embarrassment.
His hands rested on the dip between her sides and her hips, and only then did he realise how curvy the girl was. Honestly, it was hard to tell, what with her choice of clothing (big and baggy; her insecurity with her body, was in fact, invalid, for he liked what he could get a hold of very much—or his erection did anyway). She mightn't have the biggest assets he had seen or held, but she definitely had the curves working to her advantage.
When she tugged on his hair, Sasuke growled, the primal edge of the sound making the rosette squirm against the solid muscles of his covered abdomen, and he made short work of her impatience, reacquainting his tongue with hers as he battled for supremacy. He was dominating her in every way, and she loved it.
His hands lifted her halter top, pausing to fondle the smooth planes of skin, before he pushed it upwards, until he was met with the first barrier; her breasts, which were bound by lacy black cups. He groaned at the sight.
He kissed the ridge leading up to them, motioning for the pinkette to remove the flimsy material that covered her before he tore it to pieces. She obliged, all but yanking the material over her head and discarding it on the floor by their feet. Liberated of her shirt, Sasuke had time to ogle. A decent bust for a petite girl, he thought absently, cupping them only to realise that she was more heavily endowed than even her bra implied.
Curious, he raised his gaze to meet Sakura's, whose was averted to somewhere over his shoulder; she was more than a little mortified by this development. His interest piqued, the raven haired teen carried the lightweight not-love interest to his bedside, where he rested her against the cushions at the very top of the massive mattress.
Straddling her prone form, Sasuke reached behind her, leaning in to press sensual kisses to her cheek and ear as a means of distracting her from his next move. He unclasped the flimsy clips that held the almost transparent contraption in place, sliding the material over the silky planes of her spine and scapula (making sure to run his roughened palms over the soft skin, eliciting a trail of raised hairs in response), before he made a show of slipping the straps down her shoulders.
He was performing an erotic striptease before her very eyes, which were alive with the jitters (excitement was what she liked to think, in order to distract herself from the impending unveiling of her most awkward possessions), and Sakura was afraid that her heart would combust from the intimacy of such an action.
Sasuke raised playful eyes to gauge her reaction, both incredibly amused by her meekness and humbled enough to let it slide without comment, before refocusing his eyes to the full globes which were to be uncovered.
A listless flick of his wrists, and the brassiere fell from her form, gently pried from the depths of her skin until she was left abashedly nude from the torso up. He allowed his steely gaze to drink in the beauty of her flesh, unmarred and endlessly sallow, and he groaned when it settled upon the petite, rosy tips that emerged from her peachy areola. She had definitely succeeded in hiding her pubescent body from him, and he was somewhat irked that he had been so dense in that respect.
Being too close to someone must fuck up one's way of perceiving their outer aesthetics. It was the only explanation for this monumental lapse in awareness.
Sakura squirmed. The way he was looking at her sent shivers of pleasure straight into the tightening ball in her abdomen, and a tingling sensation burst alight within the apex of her thighs, the strength of the lustful pull so present that she had to rub them together in order to find the friction that she was so desperately craving.
Noticing her distressed movements, the raven haired adolescent pried her legs apart, settling his weight between the slender appendages before hitching them over his hips once again, pressing the solid mass that had created a very conspicuous tent in his denims against the exposed treasure within. The pinkette's thumping heart had jumped into her throat, and when his lips slanted over hers, she feared that he could feel it thumping against his tongue, which was probing deeply.
"Mmmmmm..."
A satisfied keen rumbled in her chest, sending soft vibrations into her voice box that were muffled by his intent kisses, which gave her little room to breathe, let alone expel sound. The ache had become profuse, and her clitoris swelled from the pressure of his erection pushing against the thin cloth of her panties (her skirt was bunched around her waist at this point, shoved up in order to house Sasuke's imposing stature).
With no opportunity to move her pinned hips, she could do little to ease the throbbing, and it was maddening. When Sasuke retracted himself from her mouth—which had become puffy from the suction of his kisses—he shifted his weight, pelvis naturally chafing against her sex and bringing forth a loud, broken moan from the back of her throat as a result of his mishap.
He smirked, making sure to avoid her hips, which were jerking skyward in order to find friction, and instead kissed his way down her neck, lingering at her collar bones in order to leave his mark upon the tender flesh, before pausing between the round mounds to flick his tongue against the open plane.
The look of utter despair on her face made it worth the denial, Sasuke thought to himself, mildly amused by the display, and he chuckled at her expense. He was stunned when she scowled prettily at him, her swollen lips jutting out into a sulky pout as she beseeched him with her eyes to please do something.
A foxy smile was her response, before he wrapped his lips around the pert nipple that had been dancing in his peripherals, the wet heat of his mouth extracting a shuttered out-breath from her own parted orifice, and a hypnic spasm courtesy of her spine that shook the mattress with its force.
He was driving her insane!
Her thighs squeezed his sides firmly, heels digging into the small of his back as she attempted in vain to elevate her pelvis to a level where his crotch was accessible. He considered denying her of that once more, but rethought it when a sharp pinch in his member told him otherwise; that just wasn't going to do.
It seemed that his need transcended that of his desire to toy with her a little longer, and that was made clear when he suddenly shoved his hips down, his hands clutching her ass in order to direct her sex to his own, grinding against her as he continued to nip and suck at her chest, tongue tracing circles around the flushed circumference of her areola and causing goosebumps to tear across her skin.
His hands guided her in her spastic jerks against him, and transformed them into a functional rhythm that set their blood on fire. All the while, he continued in his ministrations, keeping his tongue and teeth busy whilst rubbing himself against her in sporadic bursts that brought about groans and smirks as a result of his teasing (it wasn't difficult to decipher who was responsible for what).
Sakura's cheeks were heavily flushed with colour, pink staining every inch of skin that Sasuke had exposed. She was the picturesque image of a Goddess of Virtue, he mused silently, prying his lips from her breasts in order to study her expression in more detail. Rosy cheeks, hooded eyes, parted lips, writhing figure; he had her on the ropes.
When it came to the art of carnality, he was the resident expert, and her innocence and naivety was as refreshing as it was intriguing; how could someone this chaste and sweet still exist in such a seedy industrialist society? It was truly confounding (and he was about to violate that purity with the taint of his many exploits; he should be feeling remorseful and accountable for her pain, but right now, in this moment, he felt nothing but lust and greed for more).
Sasuke had the urge to be pressed against the plush, bountiful flesh before him, and he followed his first instincts to the letter; leaning back from her upper half, he raised his arms over his head, tearing his top over his shoulders and tossing the loose material to the other side of his room, before he arched over her, obscuring her frail frame from the dim moonlight streaming in through his balcony's transparent doors with the inky black of his shadow.
The firm muscles that coiled together to form the raised ridges of his six-pack rippled with every breath that he took, whilst the sharp, jagged lines that ascended from the waistline of his pants sucked the oxygen from the lightheaded pinkette's lungs. God he was so fucking beautiful.
A few scars zigzagged their way across his abdomen and arms from incidents involving a mixed dosage of alcohol and stupidity (razor blades were one that she had become all too aware of in their youth), but they only served to amplify his perfection. He truly was Adonis personified, in her eyes, and nothing would ever dissuade that image from being anything but the honest truth.
She reached up to touch him, but faltered, flinching away when she noted the sudden rigidity in his posture; it seemed her touching him was beyond intolerable. Or so she thought, for he merely relaxed as if he had been merely dealing with some inner ache or pain, and reached out and linked fingers with her long enough for him to place their connected hands over one of the more serious blemishes that marred his ivory skin so starkly.
He never liked to talk about that one, much less let another touch it, but its origins were known all too well by the pink haired teen, who felt a violent surge run through her when she reminisced on it for too long. He had been in a freak accident saving her ass from the line of fire, and she could never forget the look on his face when he finally woke from his coma three months later. It was worth it, he had said with lukewarm eyes, all the while cradling her head as she wept into his shoulder in relief.
She had never forgiven herself, even when he apparently had.
To her, this was one of the many major contributing factors that had conceived his loathing for her. He had nearly died for her sake, and she continued on in the same weak manner that he had bluntly told her that he despised when they were still children.
What more reason was there to dislike her very presence?
But still he held her hand there, cradling the scar with their interlaced palms as if he were nursing it once more back to health. She found herself drawn in by its jagged appearance, and impulsively, she leaned down and pressed her lips to its raised surface, his stomach convulsing from the sudden intimate touch.
Her eyes were teary once more. He really was letting her love him in every way, because the amount of trust he was exhibiting in letting her caress his battle scars without recoiling from her as if she had burned him said it all. He was not known for being lenient when his personal space had been intruded upon, and this was a classic example of the do-nots.
Sakura smiled softly when she realised that he was taking her request in all seriousness, just as she had when she had asked him of it in the first instance, and nothing could top the euphoria she felt at that epiphany.
Her fingers traced the lines and contours of every muscle and tendon, feeling along the veins that he had so tragically sliced apart so many years ago and pressing clumsy kisses along each and every one that she stumbled upon. He chuckled at her inexperience, brushing aside a rebellious strand of hair from her forehead before ghosting his own lips across the broad stretch of skin and bone, a whisper of a true smile tugging at the corner of his mouth in response to her careful loving.
She was so, so naive. And somehow, that made it, this, harder.
It was an inevitability that she would come out of this shattered, that much he knew all too well. But what was worse was that no one would be able to pick up the pieces and put her back together after the damage was done, because to her, he was the glue that held her in place; and without that, none of the cragged edges would ever match up or slip back into alignment.
She would never be whole again, and that was what his conflicted emotions churned around in the back of his mind as his hand slipped beneath the hem of her soaked undergarments, diving straight for the slippery prize that awaited his practiced touch.
His doubts were soon drowned out by the loud moans of the girl pushing against his calloused palm for more.
Time flickered past, and without even realising when or how, Sakura found herself naked, and tangled in the sheets of his luxurious settee; his head cushioned between her thighs as he made her see stars, which flickered fleetingly behind her eyelids with every measured stroke of his tongue against her raw clit.
Her hands were drowning in the inky depths of his hair, holding him in an awkward fashion as she deliberated whether to shove him away from her dripping sex or hold him closer, his thumbs rubbing reassuring circles on the bare flesh of her upper legs as a means of quelling her indecisiveness.
He had obviously done this before, Sakura thought offhandedly, ignoring the pang in her chest in favour for the delicious suction of his lips and teeth around the sensitive nub at the very crest of her most intimate place, her hips pulsating in time with every tentative flick of his masterful little muscle against it.
His fingers plunged deeper into her throbbing entrance, stretching her capacity with every slippery descent they made, until the telltale signs of an orgasm made themselves known. Twitching in every nerve in her gyrating pelvic region, and upper legs, the taut clenching of her passage around his wandering appendages, a tighter grip on his head, the laboured breathing and raspy moans gaining volume and momentum the faster his fingers, mouth, tongue and teeth worked her, an inane inability to remain still.
Before she could reach climax, however, he removed himself from her, kneeling away from her protesting form whilst keeping her legs firmly divided from one another; she was at the point where all she needed to do was rub her thighs together, and that would send her well over the precipice, and he would not allow that to occur just yet.
Sakura groaned mournfully at the sudden loss of her wretched orgasm, her eyes watering profusely as she wriggled impatiently against the bed sheets; they were drenched in perspiration and chafed irritatingly against her naked back. She was hot and bothered, and he needed to fix it, quickly.
The sound of a fly being undone echoed eerily in the quietude of the room, and the pinkette looked up in time to see Sasuke slipping out of his jeans, boxers joining the fray, his stiff member springing free from the constrictive confines of his fitted attire and smacking against his tummy in an unabashed manner. He hardly seemed fazed by it, but Sakura was an internal wreck. His endowment... Was a lot more than she had anticipated. She had known that he would not be average by any stretch, but even this was pushing it.
Noticing her look of open concern, Sasuke crawled forward with the grace and stealth of a panther, lifting her legs so that he could fill the gap left between them with his lithe form before he leaned in and stole a kiss, the quick peck reassuring her that everything would be alright. She looked at him from beneath her long eyelashes, a shy smile her only response, before she peeked a little lower and 'meeped' at the length and width of his throbbing girth.
As long as he was confident in his ability to make her forget her name (and form any coherent thoughts), she would have faith in him.
Her chasteness made him laugh, a soft, guttural rumble that reverberated off of the whitewashed walls and resounded in her ears' canals. She was just too cute! He leaned in once more, pressing his lips to the turned corner of her mouth, which was the closest he could get to claiming her pouty orifice in a searing, mind-numbing kiss, since she was too embarrassed to look him in the eye, thus putting him at a disadvantage in doing so directly.
Pinching her nipple elicited a loud gasp of surprise, and her head snapped back to face him, just as he had planned. With a half amused, half smug smirk, the raven haired teen tugged her forward by the chin until her lips were on his, and a heated lip-lock ensued, Sasuke quickly turning the tables and dominating her persistent tongue with his own.
The thumb and forefinger that clutched her chin slid across the pale skin until it rested against her cheek, the other following in suit until he had her small, cherubic face cupped between his large palms. His mouth left tantalising tingles that danced on her achy lips as he continued in his relentless barrage, ceasing only to part for air; not once did his lips leave hers though, remaining in constant contact even as he broke away for those few precious intervals that ensured that he would not pass out before he had the chance to perform.
He eased her into the cushions, making sure that she was comfortable before he lay his weight upon her, relishing in the delicious skin-to-skin contact he had established, while continuing the onslaught of nips, tugs and kisses to her thoroughly abused orifice. She was relaxed until something rigid and hot pressed intimately against the trembling folds of her damp sex. A violent shudder tore through her at the foreign sensation. Sasuke took immediate notice, pulling away so that he could look into her eyes.
Anxiety had crept into their depths, crystal clear and blatantly obvious, and he felt a liquid-lava-like sensation pool in the pits of his abdomen; his body was clearly rejecting the idea of stopping so close to the final act, but his mind, overtly analytical and perfunctory, simply would not allow such base desires to have that much control over him, no matter how strongly they were rebelling.
"We can stop, Sakura." She looked horrified by his words. He had just given her an outlet, a means of escape, because he had noticed her reservations about completing their little tryst. It was true that she was a nervous wreck, but she didn't want to stop for that exact reason; she was afraid of the aftermath, of what would transpire after they had finally joined themselves in ecstasy.
It was becoming impossible for her to remember that this was the first and only time that they would ever be so implicitly connected, what with the way he was treating her (as a lover, rather than an easy lay or a prostitute), and with the lines quickly blurring into distortion, Sakura was losing perspective and reasoning. He did not love her. That much she knew. But it was so difficult to distinguish that from the man she was tangled between the sheets with, for he was tender and loving and sweet and considerate and was slowly but surely breaking her heart because of it.
He was doing this only for her benefit, because he respected her need for closure, and her pledge to remain pure until she found the love of her life (he was painfully aware that he was that person, so he was trying admirably to live up to that expectation). Not because he actually cared for her in that regard.
If anything could be said, he really didn't care that much at all, for he had conceded so easily in order to quicken her exit from his life. And that act alone was killing her inside.
Sakura steeled her resolve once more. She was not going to lose this opportunity, this chance, to demonstrate to him the sheer volume and extent of her love, and even if he never reciprocated those sentiments, she at least wanted him to finally acknowledge them for what they truly were. Something significant and precious, that should be cherished rather than squashed and ignored. So far, she was succeeding.
"No... I-I... Can't... Not now... I don't want to stop. So please..." It was a breathy, almost broken whisper, infused with emotion as she held his firm gaze with her own, and he nodded succinctly in reply, before he pressed his arousal against her nether lips once more. A small bead of ejaculate had swelled on the tip of his engorged phallus, smearing over her labia as he rubbed himself against her, parting the slippery folds of flesh with two fingers before he chafed against the moist heat, summoning moans from both parties in response.
He made a final deft swipe, after a few moments of added stimulation to her clitoris, with the full length of his penis in order coat himself with her naturally provided lubricant, before he pressed the tip to her convulsing entrance. Tilting his hips downwards, he allowed himself to sink in indulgently, resting only the head within the walls of her sex in order for her to adjust to breadth that was about to fill her to the very brim.
Sakura shifted, hefting her legs over his waist and nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck, trying to find equilibrium in the sudden displacement whilst also watching the corded muscles of his back strain in order to maintain the torturous exercise for as long as physically possible. It was beautiful to observe from such an intimate angle.
She reflexively pushed against him when she found her comfort zone, and he took that as his cue to continue. He obliged happily, slowly easing in enough to allow her walls the appropriate amount of time needed to conform to his hefty girth, his fingers playing with the distended protuberance at the forefront of her sex until he was practically rubbing her raw. The electric shocks of pleasure that filled her relaxed her to the point of him being able to stretch her further still, and when he came to a halting stop at her maidenhead, he was surprised to note that it too had expanded, giving him room to slip past it without tearing it and making her bleed.
Her pants were harsh as he stilled, his own breaths in sync with hers as he tried to compose himself. He did not want for this to be a painful experience, for the emotional blow he was going to deal her with after this was already far too heavy a burden for her to carry on her own, and so he wanted her to at least feel like he was loving her body at his very best. And that much was not hard for him to do in the least bit.
With a tender kiss to her closest shoulder, Sasuke thrust down, praying to god that the leverage he had had quelled her discomfort, if only a little. Sakura furrowed her brow. It hadn't hurt as much as she had been told it would by her girlfriends, but there was a definite pinch that made her want to squirm in order to ease its sharpness. It was mostly adjusting to his size that was proving to be a challenge, for there was a lot of him to hold in place within her, and not enough of her to do so effectively.
He held still for only a moment before he slowly eased his way out, only to plunge down again at the same measured pace, her wet walls naturally fluctuating in an attempt to push him out. The friction and pressure was incredible.
Fingers still rubbing circles upon the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, Sasuke rotated his hips, digging deeper until he located the spot within her that would make her vision black out from the intensity of the pleasure it summoned when tapped against; his mouth attached once more to her neck while his spare hand trailed from fondling her hip to her breasts, hoping to tease her to orgasm.
Sakura moaned, a low and deep keen that gave him goosebumps, and he knew that he had prevailed in his mission to make her feel good.
The tempo never increased, remaining true to his word that he would 'love her like she wanted him to', and he slowly but surely brought her to the brink of unadulterated bliss, the slickness of her sex making his promise easier to keep. With every push of his hips, Sakura thrust back, her nails leaving harsh crescent moons and scratches down his spine as she desperately grasped for something to hold onto; the coil in her tummy was so tight now, so close to bursting alight and setting her entire body ablaze with euphoria, that she was finding breathing impossible.
Her lungs were burning from oxygen deprivation, but she could do nothing to regulate it as he brought her closer and closer to the peak that she had been yearning for for so long now. She was so close!
A spasm fluttered through the fleshy walls of her drenched sex, informing Sasuke that she was tiptoeing her way to the edge of their cliff, and was about dive straight off the precipice and fall into the endless streams of rapture that waited for her at the bottom.
He plunged his turgid length as far as he could, slamming against that interconnected bundle of nerves located so deliciously close to her womb that for a moment he was worried about the chances of her falling pregnant, but all thoughts on the matter were dispersed immediately when she finally came, her loud wail of completion music to his ears as he fought against the sudden tightness that had engulfed his member whole.
She was so wet that he swore that he would become lost in her depths, and the clenching of her walls did little to help him in his bid to refrain from orgasm until she had ridden the waves of ecstasy out first.
His pace turned animalistic as he battled against the suction that had swallowed him so completely, pushing as far as he could by lifting her legs and hips a little higher so that he could achieve the same rush that she was quickly coming down from, a frown of concentration settling on his striking features as he found the friction that he had been searching for.
A further onslaught of thrusts sunk into her, and when Sakura pressed her hand to her tummy, she could feel his solid mass stretching deliciously beneath the taut skin, eliciting another high pitched keen from her bruised lips that caused a spastic jerk to rip down Sasuke's spine. His fingers found her clit amidst sweat-slicked skin and coarse pubic hair, and he chafed against it frantically until she regained momentum for yet another heated climax, her fingers clawing at his abdomen and sides in order to find purchase on something tangible.
Moments later, and with a final shattering thrust against her hidden treasure, the pair came in unison, her cries and his low groaning creating a crescendo of noise in the otherwise empty household, fixing them to reality even amidst orgasm and bringing to close a tragic set of circumstances that would only adopt an equally crushing outcome when the time finally came to face the music.
His arms went limp, but he managed to maintain his weight enough so that he didn't collapse on top of her exhausted figure, his forehead coming to rest upon hers as he let out a fatigued sigh of both satisfaction and resignation. It was done.
Sakura was a mess, physically, mentally and especially emotionally.
It was all over now. She had thought that she would find peace in the fact that their barely-there relationship had been severed, but she was embroiled in an internal battle so profound that she thought that she may burst at the very seams with the sudden inner outpouring of emotion that she was experiencing.
She was a fool to think that everything would just settle itself into the appropriate slots.
Sasuke must have known this too. Her feelings could hardly be erased; through such an act meant to be made out of love and trust, how could she possibly not feel attached to his every memory? This was too cruel a trick to play on her. Even so, she had made a promise, and seeing as he had delivered on his end of the bargain, it was now her turn to do so.
He was lying on his back alongside her, eyes closed as he settled his breathing.
Although he looked rested, his every nerve was alert, and the sudden shifting of weight coming from his right caused a crease to furrow his smooth brow.
Allowing his hooded orbs to flutter open, he rolled his head to the side, only to see the pinkette slowly crawling to the edge of the mattress.
He reacted instinctively.
A strong, calloused palm curled around her wrist. Surprised, Sakura turned her gaze to meet the raven haired adolescent's, whose was shockingly expressive (although she really shouldn't have been stunned, for he had been this way all evening).
"What are you doing?"
It seemed like a foolishly displaced question; wasn't it already plainly obvious to him? Or did she have to spell it out for him, and run the risk of bursting into tears in the process?
She really wasn't tempted to live out the shame of option two, especially since this had been her idea in the first place. Giving him a faint, watery smile (one that said more than words ever could), she shook her head from side to side, as if declining him of his entitlement to an answer, her strawberry tresses swaying softly against her sweaty skin, before she slid her legs off of the humongous bed, intent on collecting the scattered fragments of her clothing.
Sasuke didn't give her the chance to, yanking her backwards until her back slapped against the comfortable settee, before he pinned her in place with his imposing frame. Sakura had no idea what to make of this development. He looked visibly annoyed, the curl lifting his lip into his trademark sneer an incomprehensible detail that confounded her even more.
His lips parted, and the words that came for within them rendered her incapable of responding.
"I agreed to the terms, and yet you're breaking them. I said I would love you for one night; it hasn't ended yet. And I'll be damned if you walk out of your own proposition with only half of what I promised you."
And with that, he swooped down to claim her lips in a searing kiss, her mind going blank as her body filled in the blanks for her.
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* .*.*.
.
..
.
Soft kisses everywhere.
Tender embraces.
Another slip into ecstasy.
Tangled limbs.
Hips undulating.
Tongues tangoing.
Soft nothings.
Tears of unadulterated joy and grief.
Stains that can never be erased.
Regret.
.
..
.
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* .*.*.
He was gone in the morning when Sakura awoke. A note on his dresser informed her that he had stepped out for a bit (probably for a smoke), and that when he returned, he expected her to be gone.
Her clothes had been neatly folded and arranged at the foot of the bed.
There was no residual warmth to the sheets, meaning that he had been gone for a while; probably waiting for her to regain consciousness (it seemed he remembered her atrocious sleeping habits, she thought with a bitter smile as she crumpled the paper in her palm into a ball). Only his scent of peppermint, aftershave and cigarette smoke remained. Slipping out of the crumpled mess of sheets, the pinkette clambered into her attire with soundless grace, her eyes and lips swollen from the events of the previous night.
He had stayed true to his word of loving her to the fullest. She could only be satisfied with that, nothing more. No expectations. Nothing. This was it. Over. Done. Finished. Reliving this night, Sakura realised, was the only way that she would be able to feel his love. It would be the only time that she would ever feel it, and the torture was already crippling her very essence to the core.
She made his bed, hiding any and all traces of her being there (other than the memories that had been forged there, and her own soft scent, one of which would linger with Sasuke for more reasons than the one he had created last night), before sidling towards the glass doors across the room. She paused, hesitancy clear as she cast a fleeting glance to the iPod lying abandoned on the floor, having been dropped in the heat of the moment by its owner.
Steeling herself, she collected it from the carpet, cradling it lovingly in her palm. With that, she set her final goodbye into motion.
When Sasuke came back, she was long gone.
He sighed, running a hand over his face and through his hair.
Thank god.
He felt suffocated watching her peaceful form sleeping next to him, and he couldn't bring himself to that same state of inertia because of the potency of his regret. He should never have agreed to it. It was going to be the cause of her worst devastations, and he couldn't stomach the guilt he associated it with, being the instigator who had strung her along and used her to vent his frustrations.
Seeing her asleep had been too much for him to cope with, so he made sure that he was well out of her vicinity when she finally woke up. He knew how cowardly he was being, but he just couldn't. She meant everything and nothing to him, and he just... There was no way. He couldn't lie to himself and pretend to love her for her sake. It would kill her inside. She deserved so much better than him. This fact he had acknowledged since the day he had met her.
Shaking the thoughts from his head, Sasuke made his way over to his bedside. It was the last known resting place of his iPod, and he craved a distraction from his idiocy. When something metallic and distinctly box-shaped caught his eye, he paused. It was on his dresser, headphones wrapped neatly around the music contraption.
Befuddled, he lifted it from its new position, the weight comforting in his hand as he looked at it with stern eyes. A flickering glance at the wooden dresser informed him of the presence of a small post-it note, and in its centre was the delicate cursive of his now not friend. It read simply. Press play.
A furrow marred his forehead. That was awfully cryptic.
Unwinding the earphones from around the body of the palm sized iPod, Sasuke pressed the small buds into their rightful place in his ears' canals, before he switched on the device and pressed play, as she had requested.
The soft strumming of a guitar filtered into his ears, the melodic chords tugging at something deep within his gut. Of all the songs to pick!
You never go, you're always here,
beneath my skin, I cannot run away.
Fading slowly.
I gave it all to you, reaching as I fall, it's already over, already over now.
My best defence, running to you.
I can't resist, take all you want from me.
Breaking slowly.
I gave it all to you, reaching as I fall, it's already over now.
Loving you again.
It's already over, already over now.
You're what I reach for when I fall.
It's already over.
You're what I reach for when I fall.
It's already over now.
With an instrumental break, the vocalist's heart wrenching crooning intoned to bring the tragic ballad to an end. Sasuke ceased hearing anything after that, for the longest time merely sitting and staring vacantly into the space at his feet. He had come to be well acquainted with the distinct patterns and grooves of the soft material over the past two years.
The final goodbye.
He had to hand it to her, Sasuke thought with an ironic smirk burdened with grief; she really knew how to make him loathe his very being like nothing else in the world, and feel the depth of his abandonment to its fullest.
The lyrics had captured her heart perfectly in that moment of decadent sadness, and he could only sit there with the song on repeat, head hanging and bangs heavy under the weight of his regret as he pretended that the watery substance streaming endlessly down his cheeks was not tears.
For they were not his to shed.
It was later that evening when he discovered that she had disappeared without a trace. She had neglected to return home, instead taking off for some unknown destination in order to separate herself from the misery that he had unleashed upon her.
They called in the police, and she was filed as a missing person three days after her defection to god knows where.
Days became weeks, which soon turned into months, and she never surfaced from the woodworks, eliciting horrific repercussions through her despairing parents, who had no idea why she had just... Left. Without a single word of goodbye to anybody but him.
A year passed, and they were all hopeful for her return. But after fours years had come and gone since that fateful day, they just stopped. She was soon forgotten by most people. But not by him. Never by him. Not a day passed him by that he didn't contemplate her whereabouts, her state of mind, everything.
Even after finding that one special person capable of summoning his love, he never stopped, for the profoundness of his heartbreak was something that even he hadn't been expecting.
It seemed one night was all it had taken to distort everything that he thought he had previously known, flipping his world upside down as a result of his naivety and leaving a cavity that simply could not be filled by anyone or anything other than dazzling, broken green eyes and shiny pink hair.
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* .*.*.
Seven years later, and she stood outside his house's living room window in the dead of (a bitter winter's) night, eyes drawn to the warming scene within its confines. His arms were wrapped tenderly around the sleek woman she assumed to be his wife, hands caressing the large swell of her stomach.
The woman gazed at him with adoringly affectionate eyes, and he returned it with one of his own. He had looked at her like that once. But never to such a brilliant extent. The sharp burn in her chest summoned a weak smile to her wilted lips.
(She took pleasure in the pain it brought her, for the numbness of her exterior was unnerving even to her.)
This was what he had been searching for. Something that he could never find within her. Watching the light dance in his eyes as the baby made of their (his) love kicked against his palms brought a watery tilt to her own mouth and eyes. He was so, so happy. It was hard to hate him for that, for it was what she had always wanted for him.
Even if it meant letting him love another to his heart's content... Sakura was truly pleased for him. He had found the glue that kept his pieces in alignment, the one that held him together through sickness and in ill-health, the good and the bad times, and that was magnificent, for she was still shattered, the fragmented shards of her heart mere molecules of dust now as she observed the sickeningly sweet display with cold, sombre eyes.
He would be a daddy soon.
Oh how she wished that she would be there to see it.
She blew him a final kiss, and allowed herself to be swept away with the icy wind, Sasuke's dark orbs snatching a fleeting glimpse of her locks of baby-doll, pastel pink before she became one with the blizzard (that almost seemed to resonate with her inner turmoil as she merged into nothingness).
Gone again, in the darkness of their last night.
Never to return.
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* .*.*.
One can only hope that this love of mine will cease to be, for your callous mistreatment and tender loathing will be the literal death of me.
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.* .*.*.
~Owarimashita
Ending Remarks: Depressing enough for you? I have an idea for a final part to this loose not-yet-but-potential trilogy, so hit me up through a review of you'd like to see more. (:
Please let me know what you thought. Everything in this story but the lyrics is original, including the ending quote, just so you know. ;)
Well, ja mata ne!
~Rin