She is burning from the inside out.
Everywhere, the relentless heat surges, robs her of vision, thought and time. This is nothing like walking through the searing Suna desert as the sun blasts against the rolling sand dunes.
It's a foreign feeling, unbearable and addictive all at once. Unlike anything she's ever experienced; the only wind is the tempest they create with ragged breaths.
It would take an explosion, a war, the sky falling to distract her from anything but this instant.
The very small diminutive part of her brain that hasn't yet been stripped of logic advises her to slacken her hold. With her palms to the ceiling above her head, she has his hands in a death grip, fingers entwined.
She's probably drawing blood with her nails.
But it's hard to be bothered when the electric current coursing through her body was shooting sparks.
She was a hardened kunoichi. Her skin wasn't supposed to be this reactive to the light feathery touches of his hands as they slowly almost painfully slowly ran up her legs.
Gone were the awkward advances of just a few moments ago. She had felt so out of her depth. At the age of twenty three, she had never been with someone like this.
Neither of them had known quite how to start but now they sure knew how to finish. Their bodies ran on autopilot.
In the beginning they had agreed to be unhurried and deliberate in their movements. True to their word, despite the erratic breathing, they were drawing this out. But it was agonizing, like a mirage in the desert. She could clearly see what she wanted and knew how to acquire it.
Except every time she got closer he would slow again or stop entirely; it was maddening. He always did have better control than her.
She was torn between deciding whether this was all too much or not enough. Her heart hammered painfully in her chest as he looked at her, eyes dark and intense. The only thing she could do was stare back and not even endeavour to mask the love and longing.
The only thing she could think of when he dipped down for another languid kiss, the type she could feel right down to her toes, was her hardened resolve.
She would shatter that control.
He was burning from the inside out.
No amount of planning or strategizing could have prepared him. The smallest things she did set him aflame.
The way her hands ran down his back, the tiniest indecipherable whisper, how she still managed to seem shy despite being so sure in her actions, it begged him to unravel.
The fact that he couldn't bring himself to do so was the root of his pain. He had waited so long, wanted her ceaselessly. And this would be savoured no matter how excruciating.
She was digging her nails into his hands as they teased each other. There was no doubt that he was a masochist when it came to her. He enjoyed the sting of the scratches, each mark a signature, a sign of the ownership she had over him.
That thought was sort of twisted, which only heightened this insatiable hunger.
His whole body felt like it was a string being pulled tight, the slightest movement sending vibrations from end to end. This wasn't good. The grasp he had on his sanity, on reality, was beginning to loosen and fade away.
It didn't help when she kept trying to redirect his hands across her torso and speed up the, seemingly endless, lip lock they were in. He tried his best to glare at her but the look was easily misinterpreted for passion. To be honest, he hadn't really attempted to put much malice behind the stare in the first place.
He nearly laughed when she pouted at being kissed again.
This was her game.
If he gave her everything quickly it would be too boring. He loved problem solving and finding just the right place, the perfect balance between easy and challenging, was proving to be an enjoyable if somewhat taxing mission.
They had played almost all their cards. First was the hair, then the clothes, flesh on flesh. He had stayed strong for all of it. Though it hadn't been effortless, his muscles had strained and struggled not to grab her, to yield to more primitive instincts.
Truly it wasn't fair of her to sit there so trusting; hair a golden mane that looked as if he had ran his fingers through it already.
But he was first and foremost a gentleman, a fact that continued to irk him.
Everything was her call.
He didn't know what it was, perhaps the tone or the way her lips moved as that one word slipped out.
"Shika," it was more of a pant then anything.
But, to his overworked brain, it was hard to decipher. Was it a plea, an admonition a slip of the tongue?
Whatever the true meaning, all he could really discern was that the string holding all of his willpower had snapped right then. Without any constrictions he fervently seized her, allowing himself to explore her body like he had never dared to before.
The peace had given way to chaos as nothing, no contact, seemed to satisfy quite as it had in the past. Why were they both acting so desperate when neither was leaving?
Everything was a blur. The inferno wracked through their bodies, burning walls, igniting a new found determination.
They were a muddle of inexperienced limbs. And despite the apparent urgency, they still managed to find some humor in their blundering. How they could still laugh in a situation where most would be dying of embarrassment was a credit to their irrefutable trust in one another.
They couldn't be embarrassed because that implied its counterpart shame. And there was none of that here. It was only steady hands, sweet gasping words, low moans and the looming promise of some sort of liberation.
This time, she was the one to claim his lips, forcing him to abandon his previous ministrations. There would be no cruelty from her tonight.
All she wanted was him impossibly closer. She wanted to meld together so that their thoughts became one string of consciousness. Because she would never be able to voice or put down in words everything he was making her feel.
They were rushing this part and he seemed to know it too. So when he carefully caressed her jaw and lifted her face, forcing their eyes to meet, a silent agreement was made.
Finally there was some semblance of relief as they fully met.
One minute the clock seemed to be running out of time but next it felt like they had eternity. They were unhurried. With absolute certainty, the look as they penetrated each other's eyes told them, they would have years to do this.
By means of this step in their relationship, each was sure that they were utterly ruined for anyone else.
They were trapped in this cage together now and both would gladly throw away the key.
And this was only the calm before the storm. With an increasing pressure, the need to break their current pace was rapidly become known. Together they chartered the unknown territory, the peaks and valleys. But the fire wasn't finished with them yet. It tore through flesh, flames licking higher.
And it seemed to only spread out of their control, faster and faster, all consuming.
It was unavoidable; nothing would put out the flame. Driving, pushing, grinding, clenching, the only viable option was to relinquish reason and combust.
The freefall was heart wrenching but it was bliss, ecstasy, it was love.
Despite the plummet their grip was iron, anchoring them together, lest the world be swallowed up beneath them. Arms wrapped tightly, they shield each other from the outside world. To think that there was ever a time that these feelings were almost disowned.
People would laugh and say opposites attract but they weren't really so different, just distinct enough to be the other's remedy. As the metronomes of their hearts slowed, neither could stop the involuntarily smile that graced their lips.
When they lay on their sides their foreheads bumped together. No words needed to be spoken as they were completely content to bask in the comfort of the other's embrace.