When Madara left Sakura's office, dread sluiced through his whole body. He didn't feel right leaving her alone when she was clearly in such bad shape, but she insisted that she had more work today and would hear no talk of taking the rest of the day off.
This left Madara to his own devices again. He knew he should head back to the Uchiha compound and finish his sweep of the archives, but there was another pressing matter he needed to attend to first, and that was Sakura's kitchen.
He found his way back to the market, the weight of his conversation with Sakura heavy on his heart. He hated to see her so upset, especially for his sake. In the back of his mind he couldn't help but wonder whether he'd actually be able to convince Sakura to come with him. He thought that if he could make her love him, that the choice would be easy for her.
Only it seemed a lot like she already did love him, and it was eating her up inside.
These thoughts left Madara feeling pretty bitter as he picked through the fruits and vegetables in the market stalls. His head was brimming with the dark cloud, and for some sick reason he had the urge to cry. He could count on one hand the amount of times in his life he'd felt compelled to cry.
But seeing Sakura cry like that… what was the word she had used? Cathartic. She'd said she felt better after a good cry. Maybe he would, too.
Nah, he thought to himself as he bagged a couple of ripe tomatoes. He just needed to punch something.
"Don't get her tomatoes."
A delicate hand snatched his bag of tomatoes away and dumped them back into the cart. Bewildered, Madara stared down at the tiny blonde girl who'd just upended his produce.
"Tomatoes remind her of Sasuke because they're his favorite," Ino said, pointedly ignoring his heated glare. "Do you want to remind her of Sasuke?"
Madara blinked.
"Why do you care if she's reminded of Sasuke or not?" he demanded.
"Because she's my best friend and I want her to happy," Ino snapped. She was wearing civilian clothes today, and something about her fiery attitude clashed with the little purple dress she was wearing. "Sasuke has done nothing but make her miserable, but you seem like, I don't know, like you actually care about her."
"Do I?" Madara asked dryly.
"I'll help you pick out what to get," she said. "I know all of her favorites. Skip the tomatoes. Let's go look for fruits. She likes watermelon and mangoes. Oh, and we should pick out some fresh fish."
"I don't need your help grocery shopping, Ino."
Her resulting glare reminded him entirely too much of Sakura. "Listen, sweetie, I know everything about Sakura there is to know. Don't pretend like you aren't going to need my help with her at some point."
A flurry of violent thoughts invaded his head. He really needed to punch something, and she was standing so goddamn close.
"Look," Ino said, seeing the look of doubt on his face. "My family owns a flower shop. I know her favorite flowers. After you get her groceries, stop by my shop and I'll help you pick out some flowers for her."
That wasn't the worst idea Madara had ever heard, but he couldn't help but be confused about Ino's motives.
"I know her favorite flower," Madara said tersely.
"Oh, yeah? What is it?"
Abruptly, Madara took a step toward her and palmed her shoulder with a heavy hand. "What are you doing, Ino?" he demanded. "Are you trying to sabotage this for Sakura?"
"Of course not," she snapped, flinging his arm away. "I'm trying to make sure you do right by her. You think I want to pick up all the pieces of her after you've shattered her heart?"
"You think that you can prevent that by helping me pick out flowers?"
"I think you should let me help you woo her," Ino said, her voice a little more determined now. "You're the only man she's shown an interest in other than Sasuke, and I want to make sure she gets the romance and sex she deserves from you."
Madara scoffed, narrowly avoiding the blush that threatened to bloom in his cheeks. It was clear now that Ino's motives were entirely focused on getting Sakura laid. While that wasn't Madara's ultimate goal, he could appreciate that they at least aligned on this one issue.
"Neither Sakura nor I need your help with that," Madara said, "but I like that she has you as a friend. I can see that you really care about her. I'll stop by your flower shop when I'm done here."
Ino crossed her arms, but sighed with resignation. Madara resumed his shopping, paying her no attention even as she followed him from cart to cart.
She continued to pester him with questions, but Madara had nothing else to say to her and he feared that the growing darkness in his head might cause him to lash out at her, and he needed to control his tongue better than that.
Eventually, she got the hint and left.
So Madara spent every last coin he'd gathered on the best looking groceries he could find and then made his way back to Sakura's apartment where he put them all away and then tidied things up so everything would be nice for her when she came back home.
And since he wasn't quite sure what to do about the Mangekyou problem yet, he resigned himself to heading up to Ino's flower shop.
Her shop was small but quaint on the inside. The floral scent that filled the air almost made him cough as he entered, but he had to admit that there was an innate beauty to all the blooms that filled every square inch of space. It was like an explosion of soft petals and bright colors.
"Ah, Madara-san," Ino said as the chiming bell announced his arrival. She pulled a basket of flowers from beneath the counter she stood at and beckoned for him to come closer. "I've picked out a bunch of flowers Sakura likes so that you can arrange your own bouquet for her."
Madara creased his brow, staring into the basket of flowers. "There are no sunflowers," he said.
"She doesn't like sunflowers."
Annoyed, he looked up at her face. She was staring at him expectantly, and he supposed he had no reason to be angry with her. She wouldn't know anything about his affectionate nickname for Sakura. She was just trying to help, after all, though Madara was still unsure that Ino knew better than he did on some of these issues.
Flowers, for instance.
In the basket, nestled in white tissue paper, were a handful of carefully cut blooms – carnations, lilies, tulips, and roses in all different colors.
"Sunflowers are her favorite," Madara countered. "Do you have any?"
Ino shook her head. "They really aren't, man," she said. "Just trust me."
"You think you know her so well?" Madara demanded. "You think I haven't already figured out how Sakura ticks? You realize she and I get along quite well without your help, right?"
"And you'll get along even better with it."
Madara glared at her, pushing the basket back across the counter toward her. "Just get me some damn sunflowers," he insisted. "As many as you have."
"Fine," she snapped, though she didn't look in the slightest bit pleased with the turn of events. "But don't come crying back to me if all she can muster up for you is a terse grimace when she sees them."
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his broad chest. In truth he was irritated that he still had so much to learn about Sakura, even if he did happen to have the upper hand in this situation.
Maybe there were some ways that Ino could help him.
/
He returned to Sakura's apartment with a massive bouquet of sunflowers. Easily two dozens of them were bursting in full bloom from the wicker basket Ino had arranged them in for him. He had to hand it to her that she did make a beautiful arrangement.
The walk back to her apartment was a strange one. He drew more attention that usual with the cumbersome basket of flowers he carried, and the sun beat down on him with unnatural heat.
By the time he'd made it to her front door, he felt a bit sluggish. Unnerved by the feeling, Madara wiped his brow with the back of his hand and looked up at the sky.
He blinked against the brightness, peering up into the cloudless sky. Something was wrong. Something was missing.
Shaking those thoughts from his head (because this kind of unease never led to anything good), Madara whirled back to face her door.
It was then that he saw the moon in the sky, hanging at his eye level near the horizon. It seemed impossibly small, so Madara activated his Sharingan to see it better. It looked nearly transparent in the sky, and he wondered how he'd even managed to catch sight of it at all.
The longer he stared, the larger is seemed to grow. He blinked, trying to dispel the vision. He was torn between wanting to stare at it and wanted to disappear inside Sakura's apartment. The moon never did anything good to him, except for bringing him to Sakura. He didn't trust it now, and he wasn't sure he ready for whatever it might have in store for him.
Yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from it. It loomed bigger and bigger in the sky until nearly every speck of blue was gone. Nothing but the silvery roundness was left in the sky, and to Madara's horror, he could see faces in every crater.
His eyes darted frantically from face to face. Izuna's was there. Hashirama's was there. His parents, his other brothers, and even Sakura were all up there, staring down at him with empty, expressionless faces.
Unnerved, Madara fumbled with the key Sakura had given him. Just as he slipped the key into the lock, a flash of light blinded him.
Pain erupted in his head, lashing like waves of fire against his temples, behind his eyes. The burning sensation made him grit his teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut, though it made little difference. He swallowed a lump in his throat, feeling his legs wobbling beneath him.
He tried to look back up at the moon, to see if it was trying to tell him something. The moment he opened his eyes, darkness filled his head so thickly that he could swear it was pouring from his eyes and nose. He could feel it hot and sticky, running down into the collar of his shirt before he realized that it was blood.
That probably wasn't a good sign. He dropped the basket of flowers in favor of clutching at his temples. The pain was growing sharper and sharper and the urge to vomit was fighting its way up his throat.
This was suspiciously reminiscent of when his brain had 'exploded,' and he didn't want that to happen again, but he had no clue how to prevent it. It was all he could do to remain standing.
But even that became too much for him when the pain hit critical peak and Madara collapsed into a heap on Sakura's front porch.
/
Madara's mouth tasted sour when he woke up. He groaned hoarsely and tried to pull himself up into a sitting position when a pair of hands pushed him back down.
"He's awake," he heard a familiar voice say. "Go get Sakura."
He blinked his eyes open to find Tsunade sitting beside him on his bed. He was back in the hospital, the same room he had been in before.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," she said, her mouth drawn in a grim line. "Do I have permission to take a look at your head?"
Madara shook his head, nearly throwing up as the motion made nausea burble up in his chest. "Did my brain explode?"
"Is that what it felt like?" she asked, "Because I certainly don't have an explanation for it. I'm hoping that Sakura will."
A flurry of footsteps clattered down the hall. Tsunade and Madara both glanced toward the door, equally unsurprised when Sakura's pink head popped up.
"Madara?" she asked breathlessly, rushing to his side. "You saw the moon again, didn't you?"
He nodded, his hands finding their way to her waist and tugging her gently toward his lap. She resisted him only slightly, leaning her weight against him as she funneled her chakra into his temples. He sighed in relief when her cooling chakra dissipated the thick darkness that had swelled inside his head.
"Your head looks okay now," she said, brushing his hair out of his face. Her expression was one of utter pain and horror, and if Tsunade hadn't been in the room with them he would have pulled her into the bed with him and never let go of her again.
"All of his grey matter is completely repaired?" Tsunade asked. Sakura turned to face her, and Madara didn't miss the way her face went rigid as she turned to give her master her best approximation of what had actually happened.
Madara barely understood what she was saying. He didn't even care; he just wanted to have his Mangekyou so that he could figure out the secrets of the Uchiha shrine, get himself back home, and take Sakura with him. He'd had enough of being here in Konoha, enough of this life without his brother.
He shut his eyes and leaned back against the pillow. Sakura and Tsunade fell silent and then he felt Sakura's cool fingertips on his cheek.
"We have to figure this out soon," said Tsunade. "I'm sure all this collapsing and darkness and brain mushiness is going to have an adverse affect on his mental health. How is your research coming?"
"In theory I think I know what to do to awaken his Mangekyou," Sakura explained, "but I have no idea what to make of all this collapsing. Sasuke isn't afflicted with this, so I don't know that it's even a part of the curse. Madara isn't as far along as Sasuke is, so it makes no sense."
Madara opened his eyes again and settled them on Tsunade. "I think it's a warning," he explained to her, though he had no real basis for believing this other than sheer instinct. "I've been here too long. I need to go back home."
"Any ideas on how to get there?" Tsunade asked sharply.
Sakura shot her master an irritated look and Madara reached for her hand so he could lace their fingers together. "Not yet," he replied. "I'm working on it."
"Really?" Tsunade asked dryly. "Do you think the answer somehow involves a couple dozen sunflowers?"
A giggle burst from Sakura's lips, and the sound was like a breath of fresh air in the stuffy sobriety that filled the hospital room.
"I can't have him passing out all over Konoha," Tsunade said to Sakura, giving her a disapproving glare. She then turned her cold gaze to Madara. "The two of you need to figure this out if you're not going to let me help."
She stood up, her glare expounding in Madara's unimpressed stoicism. Did she think he wanted to be here away from his brother?
"Don't give me that look," Tsunade said to him. "I'm sure whatever force brought you here didn't do it so you could flirt with my pupil."
"You don't know that," Madara argued, but instantly felt foolish for the petulant words.
Tsunade narrowed her eyes. "Come find me if there is any kind of new development," she said to Sakura. With that, she stood up and left the room, closing the door behind her with unnecessary zeal.
With her gone, Sakura's rigidity melted away and she sank down against his chest with a sigh. "Do you know horrible it was to see you lifeless and crumpled up like a ragdoll on my front porch?" she demanded, her weight heavy against his chest. "The only consolation was the bed of sunflowers I found you in, and honestly that just made me even sadder."
He pushed at her shoulders so that she would back up enough for him to see her face. She didn't look like she had been crying, but it was hard to tell with her sometimes.
"You were the one who found me?" he asked, feeling a stab of guilt. He wasn't sure how he would feel if he had found a lifeless Sakura crumpled up like a ragdoll somewhere.
"Your chakra signature just disappeared," she said. "I was on my way to an appointment and you just… I don't know. I got really scared. I thought you were at the Uchiha compound so I went there first, but I couldn't get inside."
Another stab of guilt lanced him. "I put protection seals around it," he explained. "If you come back there with me, I'll make sure you can get through them."
She buried her face in his chest again. "Did the moon give you another vision?" she asked, and Madara could tell that she was restraining a sob. He brought his hand to her back, smoothing it over her shoulder and spine.
In spite of how much he hated that she was upset, he couldn't help but wonder if this kind of reaction from her meant that she loved him. The thought made him smile. His whole body warmed and he tightened his arm around her.
"I saw something," he admitted. "I think it was telling me I'm ready to go home. Or nearly ready."
Shudders rolled down her spine under his touch.
"How can you tell? What did you see?"
He shook his head, unwilling to explain her face among the rest of his loved ones and friends in the moon. She wouldn't see it for the prophecy that it was.
/
Sakura walked Madara home from the hospital with his arm draped over her shoulder. He didn't really need her assistance, but it felt good to be close to her. Her side was pressed warmly against his, and the easy way she braced his weight against her was comforting.
The sky had darkened since Madara had last been outside. Sparkling stars speckled the inky sky, and the first bite of a fall breeze was in the air.
"How long was I out?" Madara asked.
"Only a few hours this time," Sakura replied, helping him up the steps to her apartment. The porch was no longer littered with sunflowers, though a few yellow petals lingered on the ground. "And thank god for that because I couldn't concentrate on anything but you. Shizune-san wouldn't even let me stay at the hospital. She made me go home."
They stepped inside her apartment and she flicked on the lights. Madara smiled when he saw a vase filled with slightly crushed sunflowers. Even the ones with few petals left were arranged neatly in the vase with the rest of them.
"You got the flowers I sent you," he joked, fingering the soft petals. He plucked one from the vase – a pitiful stem with a single petal left attached. "Did you really need to save this one?" he asked, holding it aloft.
Sakura rushed to pull it from his grasp and put it carefully back in the vase. "That one's my favorite," she said. "It worked the hardest to cushion your fall."
The words were uttered with the same casual cadence as she might have used to describe the weather or order a hot tea, but they instantly reminded Madara of something Hashirama would say to a girl. That a girl would say something like that to him was so absurd it made him laugh.
His laughter made Sakura smile and she leaned back against the counter, looking up at him with those brilliant, glimmering eyes of hers. "Thank you for the sunflowers," she said, leaning up to kiss him. He didn't lean down for her, so she settled for kissing the hollow of his throat. "Assuming they were meant for me."
She settled back against the counter and crossed her arms. Her eyes didn't have their usual fire in them, though that didn't keep them from mesmerizing Madara until he felt compelled to lean down just enough to drop a kiss on the top of her head.
"Thank you for the groceries, too," she said, hooking her fingers into his shirt to pull him even closer. "You didn't have to do that."
"It seemed like you needed some help," he said. "You work so hard you barely take care of yourself."
"That's not true," she said defensively, her eyes bursting with that fire he had missed so much
"It is true," he argued, reaching up to cup her cheek, brushing his thumb across her soft skin. "But it doesn't matter because I'm going to take care of you."
"Oh, you are?" she asked, her eyes crinkling with mirth.
It seemed a terrible waste not to kiss her right then, so in lieu of an answer, he curved his neck down and tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. She responded more fervently than he had expected, deepening the kiss and throwing her arms around his neck.
He lifted her up, gripping her ass so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Her face buried itself in his neck, pressing warm kisses against his already heated skin. Madara's heart raced when her fingers slipped beneath the hem of his shirt and skittered up his bare back.
Her touch ignited him immediately, a bursting, exploding arousal that lit him up from the inside out.
"I guess we're not trying to be professional anymore," Madara breathed, clutching at the back of her head as she continued to pepper him with kisses.
She thrust her hips forward, pressing her warm, damp heat against his stomach, her heels digging into his flesh. "Fuck being professional," she murmured against his skin. "You are so sweet. I don't deserve you."
A crease formed between his brows. "You deserve whatever you want," he said, clinging to her with a strange desperation that made him feel a little uneasy. "I'll stop at nothing until you have it."
Bubbling, nearly hysteric laughter burst from her like a musical explosion. "I want to suck your dick," she said, pulling away from his neck to kiss his mouth. "I want to make you feel good."
Madara's grip on her faltered, but she managed to hold herself up against him. He pulled back to look at her, confused about her sudden, yet completely welcome new desire.
"Are you alright?" he asked, squeezing her ass to lift her higher against him.
She reached for a handful of his hair and tugged him back into a rough kiss. "I'm not alright," she said. "Just the thought of having to let you go one day makes me want to pull you close and never let go. I know I can't be that selfish with you, but I just want you so badly."
Madara was too stunned to say anything to that, so he settled for sliding his hands up to her waist, curling them around the small of her back, and sliding them up and down her rocky spine.
Her lips fell back down to his neck and lavished kisses there and across his jaw before she nipped gently at his earlobe. His sadness was whisked away. He could think of nothing but the sinful way her tongue laved over him and the feminine heat pressed against his stomach.
"Sakura," he practically purred, sliding his hands around to her chest so he could cup her breasts. Her pleasured sigh into his ear made his knees buckle.
"Take your pants off," she commanded, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. Her breath sent shivers down his spine.
Obediently, he reached underneath her for the button of his pants. He fumbled with it until it was undone and shoved his pants down around his knees, carefully holding Sakura aloft.
Growing impatient now that his attention had diverted to his pants, and his erection that had sprung free, Sakura climbed down to her feet and slipped her hand into his.
"Shirt, too," she said as he stepped out of his pants. Never one to disobey a direct order, Madara complied, lifting his shirt up over his head.
Being completely naked in front of Sakura was truly an experience like no other. Something about the way her eyes devoured him made him feel like the most powerful man in the world. His erection was throbbing and angry, hanging in the air between them.
Sakura's gaze swept over him, her eyes dark and mischievous. He felt all at once hot and cold and smoldering with desire for her.
She tugged on his hands, leading him toward the sofa in her living room. When she pushed him toward it, Madara obligingly sank down into the cushions, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Can I?"
"What?" Madara asked, bewildered.
"Can I suck you off?"
His eyes dipped down to her plump lips, watching raptly when her pink tongue darted out to lick them.
"Please?"
He nodded eagerly, the ability to form words just beyond his reach. A moment later, a head of pink hair was between his knees, wide emerald eyes blinking up at him. She gripped his erection and a sigh whooshed from Madara's body.
"I know I'm your Sunflower or whatever," she said, and Madara dragged his eyes from her mouth to meet her gaze, "but I'm not fragile, okay? I'm a kunoichi, and I can heal myself from the inside. So you can be as rough as you want."
A chuckle escaped him. "You want me to be rough?"
She gave him a squeeze and smiled at him. "Only if you want to," she said. "Especially if you want to."
The erection in her hand grew harder and the pressure of her cool fingers made him want to buck his hips. There wasn't much time to deliberate on what he actually wanted before Sakura was drawing his length slowly into her mouth.
He sank heavily into warm pleasure, his eyes falling shut, head falling back against the sofa. Her wet lips and pliant tongue gave him far too much sensation as she took his entire length all the way into her mouth and to the back of her throat.
Momentary alarm was instantly muted when Sakura hummed and filled his bones with heat and pleasure. He opened his eyes to look at her. He was speechless at the sight of her on her knees, completely swallowing him. He was damn near brain dead when she began to bob her head up and down.
Madara had been on the receiving end of this kind of attention before, and from what he remembered of it, every lady had needed to pause to breath at some point.
Sakura seemed to manage just fine without breathing. She swallowed him over and over, humming and swirling her tongue. Madara was weightless under her touch, his head foggy, bones jelly. When he had chanced glances down at her, she was always looking up at him, her eyes searching his face.
Looking at her was almost too much. It felt so wrong for her once trembling pink lips to be doing this to him. A flash of guilt ripped through him; he brushed his thumb across Sakura's nose and the smattering of light freckles there, remembering how innocent she had been to these things before.
Then he felt prickles of chakra, first in his erection but then swiftly they swooped into his stomach, lighting up the already tense coil of heat inside him. The nerves in his body suddenly felt on fire, and he gaped down at the fragile Sunflower who had done this to him.
Mirth was in her eyes this time, and the combination of the silky feel of her mouth and her sexy, smirking eyes made him lose that last bit of hesitancy.
He threaded his fingers into her hair close to her scalp and gripped her head. She wasn't fragile, he reminded himself as he pushed her head down. She moaned, and with a delighted and perverse shiver he realized that her fingers were dipped beneath the hem of her dress, pressed against her center. She looked up at him as she teased both him and herself, and Madara's mind went completely blank.
It was hard enough to focus on anything but the sharp, wicked currents of arousal that sparked goosebumps all over him and made the blood in his veins feel icy and on fire at the same time. Somewhere in the back of his addled mind, he wondered how his sweet, innocent little Sunflower could be lascivious in ways he'd thought only paid whores to be.
But that thought only lingered for a few seconds because the culmination of Sakura's bobbing and swallowing, humming and groaning was pulling him to his peak. Waves of heat and arousal lapped at him like waves on the shore, cresting almost violently.
His fingers tightened in her hair, guiding her up and down to match his growing, frenzied pace. This was never something he imagined doing to someone he loved; even now he felt an irrational gush of guilt sluice through him. Sakura, in her victimized part of the violent act, seemed to enjoy his lack of control. Sharingan activated, it was hard to miss the raw desire in her eyes.
It made him climb even higher to an impossible new level of pleasure – a sweeping, shuddering wave of molten arousal that lobbed itself against him with a mind-numbing, toe-curling intensity.
He came in her mouth, gripping her skull tightly and burying himself as deep into her throat as he could go. He rode the stuttered pulses of his orgasm, giving himself over to the feeling, floating on the incredible high she had given him.
"Sakura," he groaned, his head lolling back as she released him from her mouth. He watched the bob of her throat as she swallowed his seed.
She stood up and moved to straddle his naked waist, her eyes narrow slits of green determination. He already felt himself growing hard beneath her again, even in her current state of dress.
Madara reached up to tug at the buttons of her white medic's coat before she slipped it from her arms and tossed it onto the floor.
"You scared the shit out of me today," she murmured, leaning down to kiss his neck. He'd grown to love the way she fit her face in the curve of his neck, and the way it made her body stretch fully against his, her breasts pressed to his torso, legs hooked around his thighs. "It reminded me of how easily I could lose you," she continued, her hands frantically exploring his chest, his shoulders, his arms.
The silky feel of her fingers all over him quickly drew her arousal back up and he began to fumble with the clasp on her modest red dress.
He wanted to say something to comfort her, but even in a lucid state, he wouldn't have been able to come up with the right words to say. Luckily, his touches seemed to be enough. Sakura helped him with the clasp and lifted herself up just long enough for Madara to pull the dress up over her head and toss it to the floor with her coat.
In just her bra and panties, she was a perfect goddess, perched like a siren over his lap. His eyes roved her marble skin, fingers trailing the silky smoothness of it. Could he ever tire of her beautiful body?
"I want you to fuck me," she said, pulling back just enough to look at his face. The words, crass as they were, made something inside him snap, something animalistic and raw.
She didn't want him to make love to her, though in all of his imagining of how he might deflower her, he never considered doing anything but just that. She'd already disproved her own fragility, though, and her words were sparking something dormant in him to life.
"Please," she begged, and he dug his fingers into her hips, pinning her body down against his.
He craned his neck to kiss her mouth, not a chaste one. Their lewd swirling of tongues made him abandon his grip on her hips in favor of cradling her neck and holding her sweet mouth to his. He could taste his own saltiness on her lips and it set fire to him.
But the one lingering shadow of doubt in his mind still tainted his pleasure.
"Why?" he asked. "Why like this?"
She froze, her mouth still against his, and then sucked in a deep breath. Madara felt the air pulled from his own lungs and gasped, letting go of her so she could pull away.
"You were a flirt and a tease, but you always respected my rules and you never pressured me into anything I didn't want to do," she explained, her voice a little breathless. Madara was hypnotized by the half-smile on her lips.
"You showed remarkable restraint, even when I was teasing and flirting back," she continued. "But I could lose you at any moment, so I just want to know what it's like to be with someone who wants me so badly. What it's like to be with you."
Madara blinked incredulously at her, not sure he understood exactly what she was implying.
"Please," she said again when he was silent, his fingers frozen against her neck.
The word had its intended affect. Madara's body was already strung so tightly with arousal, even so soon after his orgasm.
If that was what his Sunflower really wanted, he had no intention of denying her.
/