"We can't."
The words were nothing more than a whispered moan, quickly buried beneath the press of his mouth. He found it funny (though it really wasn't) that she made a very similar sound as he cupped a hand between her legs, his palm pressing into her through the thin material of her shorts. Rubbing, kneading at the heat and slickness that leeched through the fabric. Her fingers dug in harder to his shoulders as she broke her mouth away from his, panting and shivering as her hips began to roll into his touch.
"We shouldn't," she murmured. But her hands didn't listen to her words as one began tugging at the fly of his pants while the other closed around his wrist – not to pull him away, but to press his palm harder to her core.
Kakashi bowed his head, skimmed his lips across her shoulder, mouthed her neck, asking for more. He spoke through touch and sensation, saying more through contact than he ever had the nerve to verbally. And she responded in the same language, arching her head back and lifting her hand from his wrist to thread through his hair. The first hot slide of his tongue across her pulse had her groaning in his ear and her hand shoving down the front of his pants roughly.
He had to catch himself from falling as she gripped him through his briefs, her hand stroking over him with so much abandon that it negated her words of protest. It was now his turn to groan as he thrust into her grip eagerly, his free hand tightening on her hip and urging her to move faster against his palm. She complied, using his shoulders for leverage to aid in the almost desperate thrusts. With his hand still between her legs and her hand still down his pants, he began steering her back toward the brightly decorated bed behind her.
"Kakashi – wait!" It wasn't the panicked command that made him pause. It was when her hand stopped stroking him.
Kakashi lifted his face from the curve of her neck and studied her, hoping his features were as expressive as the mask he normally wore. Part of him acknowledged that what she said was true: they couldn't. But another part screamed in defiance of this logic, demanded that he take her.
It didn't matter that she was with another man. She wanted him. Had wanted for several years now. She'd admitted it as they'd laid in an Iwa torture cell three months ago, the cold cement floor invisible due to the amount of blood surrounding them – some of it their enemies, most of it theirs. For some reason, it was easier to say things when it didn't look like tomorrow would come, and Sakura had done just that. And he had spoken very much as he was now; by taking her hand and holding it as she'd cried and tried to summon the chakra she simply didn't have to heal their injuries.
That was how the extract team had found them: passed out, near death, and gripping each other's hands.
But as soon as the injuries were healed and the mission reports turned in, she had thrown herself back into her work and relationship, as if the scars they both shared patched more than just wounds. At first, it had confused him to see her go out of her way to avoid him. And then it had started to hurt when it became impossible to get more than three words conversation from her.
All that emotional turmoil - the frustration, the longing, the confusion - finally exploded tonight when he saw her leaving the Hokage tower alone, as usual. Just as she had for months. It was too much for him to bear. He'd approached her, insisted on walking her home. And his intention had been to do nothing more than that.
But she was the one to reach for him, to press his hand to her breast. She was the one to lean up and kiss him through his mask. As she had in that blood soaked cell, she'd spoken first by inviting him in.
Kakashi waited, ignoring the pulsing need of his erection, which was still separated from her fingers by the thin, cotton material of his underwear. Any minute now and she would pull away from him, leaving him aching for her as he had for countless nights.
"Not on the bed," she whispered before her fingers tightened and resumed their hard, swift pace.
His back snapped rigid and his eyes squeezed shut as sensation suddenly slammed through him again, and then she was kissing him with a desperation that matched the pace of her hand on him. Kakashi groaned raggedly into her mouth, parted his lips to let her tongue slide against his. She grabbed his hair, forced his mouth to slant more deeply against hers as her hips rocked hard into his palm.
And then he caught her scent - thick, musky, with a touch of sweetness that beckoned coyly to him. He was on his knees and tugging her shorts down before the protesting moan could finish leaving her throat. His tongue was dipping between her moistened folds a moment later, and soon after that she was gasping his name and thrusting her hips toward his face.
His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her legs wider, so wide he could hear the dull popping of elastic in her shorts as the material was strained beyond its limit. He buried his mouth more firmly against her, shivering as her scent and taste rolled over him. Kakashi swept his tongue up and down the length of her sex, his hands pushing her shorts down further when she moved to hook a leg over his shoulder. She was wet and getting wetter the more he ate at her, his teeth scraping carefully along her clit as his tongue burrowed inside her.
Sakura cried out and jerked hard against him, the heel of her boot raking down his back at the same time she dug her nails into his scalp, trying to draw him closer to her. She tasted exactly as she smelled: rich and cloying, tangy with an edge of saccharine that made him greedy for more. He wanted to hear her as she came, wanted to feel the quivering of her pussy against his lips and tongue. He wanted to see her orgasm for him.
Kakashi freed one of her hands from his hair and drew back from her slick folds, much to her dismay. She growled and tried to use her other hand to bring him back, but he held firm. He guided her hand between her legs, their combined fingers combing through the dusky pink curls covering her sex. As she slid her fingers down along her slit, he caught sight of the moisture clinging to a few curling tendrils and had to quickly restrain himself from tasting her once again.
He showed her what he wanted through his hand on hers, and as soon as she spread her fingers wide, exposing her slick sex to his gaze, he groaned and pressed his thumb to her swollen clit.
Sakura gasped and her hips gave a hard jerk, her fingers tightening once again in his hair. Kakashi's lips parted, mesmerized by how wet she was for him, the sounds she made as he massaged that tiny bundle of nerves in eager anticipation for more. It was amazing to him that all it took was a small touch here, a quick flick of his tongue there, and she was writhing in need – for him.
His fingers joined the assault, sliding easily along her soft, hot flesh until he was teasing her entrance. She shivered and angled her hips down in blatant invitation. Kakashi glanced up at her, waiting until she met his gaze before opening his eye – the sharingan – just as he plunged his fingers deep inside her.
A cry tore from her, half gasp and half groan, and her neck strained as she tipped her head back. With the sharingan, every aspect of her physical response was so much clearer; he could see her pulse fluttering wilding against her skin, memorize every minute tremble of her body as she thrust to meet his pistoning fingers.
It took real effort to tear his gaze from her face, but when the sharingan took in the sight of her exposed pussy, glistening and clenching around his fingers, it was worth it. He was breathless, captivated by her eagerness and the faint quivering of her folds. Even without the sharingan registering every twitch and shiver of her flesh, he could tell she was just a few deep strokes away from climaxing. His cock throbbed almost painfully in his pants in anticipation of her orgasm.
She was almost there … god, he could see it starting. Her cries were escalating, her hips bucking more urgently. He could see the faint throbbing of her over-stimulated clit and the contractions of her tight, hot sheath around his fingers. His hand was slick with her fluids and the taste of her was still on his tongue. Kakashi began moving faster, panting and gasping with her as he quickly snaked a hand down his pants to wrap around the base of his cock and apply enough pressure to keep from coming. Not yet, and not until he was—
"Sakura? Are you home?"
The next gasp that exploded from her throat was one of horror, and before he could even think to stop her she was jerking away from him like he'd burned her.
"Go!" she hissed, snatching at her shorts and panties from the floor as she hastened for the bathroom. When she turned back to find him still kneeling on the floor of the bedroom she shared with another man, her eyes flashed pleadingly at him.
"Please, Kakashi. Go now," she begged as she hastily backed into the bathroom.
Kakashi was gone before the first footsteps sounded in the hallway.
He reappeared in his own small, cramped apartment and didn't bother trying to get any further than the battered old couch before practically ripping his pants down and fisting his aching cock with harsh, swift pulls. It almost hurt; he almost cared. His head lolled back and his eyes squeezed shut as his hips lifted and jerked into his grip. Images of her, forever burned into his memory, surfaced and played out behind his eyelids: the quaking of her body, the clenching of her pussy, the slick, pink folds that tasted as sweet as they looked.
His teeth ground together so tightly that pain lashed through his jaw, but even that wasn't enough to contain the shout as he came, the thickness of his seed spurting hotly across his fist, slipping down along his wrist to plummet onto the cushion he was arching away from. For a few brief, wonderful seconds, nothing mattered except the pleasure beating at him. All he could see were the imprinted visions of Sakura moving, all he could hear were Sakura's moans – all of it for him. Because of him.
It was amazing, more so than the times before where he'd simply imagined her. Now that he knew…
Now that he knew how she felt and what she tasted like, a small part of him would die every time he saw her with another man. A better man than him. Someone who deserved her smiles and laughter and who was deserving of her.
Someone he wanted more than anything to be.
Kakashi let out a miserable groan and slouched further against the couch, uncaring that the air was chill against his softened cock and that the semen was cooling into a sticky, gelatinous mess on his fingers and thigh.
He was such an idiot.