AN: Hi everyone! Thank you all for 20x kudos! I apologize for last chapter's premature update, and… this still doesn't feel like the aggressive/playful power struggle I envisioned and also simultaneously promised… but this is kind of its own Arc anyway.
Runner's High
Chapter Ten, I Meant To Douse Our Twin Flames but the Accelerant Looked Like Water
She didn't like the look in his eyes after he kissed her.
She didn't like that softness, that boyish lovesickness, that dead-set devotion.
She didn't like how familiar this look was, how it seemed reborn in him.
She didn't like it because he's the wrong person to be looking at her like that.
Hinata palmed his face and pushed him down, his hungry puppy eyes fixed on hers as he allowed himself to be directed lower down her body.
Her heart felt like a panicked bird hurting itself against its cage. She could almost let him do whatever he wanted to her. She could almost allow herself to enjoy it, to let him inside the deepest part of herself. The temptation scared her. Exhilaration played just out of her reach.
But she won't be happy with herself if she allows it.
She hasn't been happy with herself either of the previous times, and she's only been feeling worse.
He's a short-lived preview of unseen heaven.
An elixir of reclaimed youth with all its negative side-effects.
He's the full bottle of burning liquor and the amnesia that follows.
He's everything good in a no-good package and she keeps returning to sender.
Her hand slides through his shorn hair to cup the back of his head, and she directs him to her left breast. He dutifully follows her direction, closing his mouth over her nipple, sending waves of liquid pleasures through her with the lapping of his tongue, and his eyes never leave hers. He's partly communicating his dominance over her, but he's also watching for her approval.
He leaves himself wide open and she finds it both ironic and foolish.
But that's youth for you.
She closes her eyes and allows her spine to soften against the pillows as she pet his hair with her thumb. She sighs and hums against him as he bathes her with warm, wet worship.
His hands begin to smooth up and down her silhouette, his calluses leave her mildly ticklish yet aroused. He stops to squeeze her right breast and her hips with every pass and his mouth begins to love her more ardently.
He releases her nipple and shifts to move to her right breast but she shoves his face back down as she peers at him down her nose. She catches the momentary confusion and dismay, which shifts into stoic determination as he continues his task on her left breast. But after a couple more minutes, he tries to move again.
He's promptly denied.
He cranes his head just enough so he can speak. "Hinata-"
"Otsutsuki-san," she has conflicted feelings insisting on her married name, it's as if she wants to be reminded of her unfaithfulness as opposed to demanding her boundaries be respected.
He pouts and scowls at her. "How long do I gotta do this?"
"Hm? Have you had enough of my breasts already?"
His eyes widen for a second and then he glares at her as if he's been insulted. "Fuck no. I-"
"So what's the problem? Can't you make me come with just my breasts?"
He resigned himself to his task, but not without muttering, "Gonna make you come so hard."
She arches against him as he suckles on her harder, working his teeth around her as his left hand possessively massages her right breast. "Mmm, that's a good boy."
Her praise made him groan, and the deep vibrations travelled along the splay of her nerves and tingled up her spine.
He managed to free himself from her commanding hand, fixing her with a defiant stare as he gripped both breasts and tickled her nipples with his tongue. He brought her stiffened peaks inside his mouth and began to suckle again, this time harder than before and her lower body responded. Her clit ached as though he were teasing it simultaneously. Her lips squeezed around the memory of his cock like it were a phantom limb. Her sigh shuddered out as she arched against him higher. His hands massaged her from base to teat and she stifled a giggle at the thought that he was trying to work milk out of her.
He seemed the type of guy to have a few weird kinks like that.
But then he emitted a growl of frustration, and suddenly he was straddling her torso, his warm, thick member bobbing along her cleavage, and her eyes widened at how dark it looked. Her gaze flashed up to his face and he looked like he was in pain.
He cupped her breasts and sandwiched his dick in her pillowy flesh, his eyes shutting close as he received the slightest bit of relief.
She felt like a voyeur or an unwitting passenger as he humped her breasts, imprinting his heat and shape into her flesh, his damp balls spanking against her underboob and she couldn't look away from the ecstasy building on his face. The grotesque appearance of his darkened, weeping head popping in and out of her cleavage was on a whole 'nother level of perversion, the contrast of his fever-colored glands and her ivory globes driving home how unseemly this sort of thing was.
His labored breaths sawed in and out of his chest and she swore he was growing even bigger between her breasts. It was the tell-tale sign that he was about to come.
His uneven, broken groans matched the spasm of his hips as he unleashed his jizz.
She flinched at its speed and recoiled as every spurt layered warm across her face like lashes of paint, and she stilled until it was over.
Well, he got one of those things that he wanted.
She frowned with her right eye glued shut as she cautiously peered through her left eye.
She's never been so defiled.
This was so much worse than when he shot all over her back.
Her heart fluttered wildly, seemingly unsettled.
Or perhaps she was secretly excited.
Within the next minute, he began cleaning her face with a tissue, a pile of them balled in his other hand. But she already decided she wouldn't let him off so easily.
Once he was done, she rose up from the bed.
"I'm taking a shower."
She absolutely detested how crusty her bangs were getting.
He didn't fight her on this.
He had gotten cleaned up with her, and they now sat in the square-shaped jacuzzi facing each other.
No matter how warm the water was, this competitive coldness between them would not dispel.
Especially not when she had the sole of her foot pressed firmly against his erection.
She found it funny how easily a whole man could be pinned under such a small amount of surface area.
He tried to appear casual, to not grip the tub's ledges too hard as she rubbed him with full, yet languorous motions. He was breathing heavily through his nose and his jaw was plainly clenched, and she never felt so powerful, so mischievous.
"Don't tell me this is your sort of thing too, Uzumaki-kun."
He flashed her a sarcastic smile as he shuddered beneath her.
"I'm not hearing denial. Should we try this with my new shoes next time? But you'd have to make sure you don't cum on them," she flattened her sole against him a little harder and he groaned, discomfort and pleasure fluidly indiscernible.
Where was this side of herself coming from?
And yet, somehow she didn't hate this self she didn't recognize.
Maybe her problem has been that her normal, accommodating, mousy self is incapable of keeping him in line.
She curled her toes over his head and massaged his cock with the roll of her foot. His body seized as he sucked air through his teeth. A second later, his hand shot out for her wrist and he tugged her. His other hand snatched her arm and he pulled her onto his lap. His eyes had the appearance of lust set ablaze as he forced her onto his dick and she caught her cry in her palm.
He had set her on fire too, his blaze threatening to spill out of her mouth.
Naruto chuckled smugly as he sank his fingers in her hips and began to maneuver her over his pistoning member.
Bath water sloshed around them, spilling over the sides and she bit her lip as pleasure boiled fiercely inside her.
His long, fat thing spreading her open, filling her up so completely it felt like he was in her head; her willpower melted around him.
He felt good.
Incredibly good.
No. She's not supposed to be enjoying this.
But maybe just this once.
Just this once should be alright.
No! No!
She's circling her arms around his neck. She's moaning and moving her hips with him, tentatively, greedily taking in his full length and she shouldn't be enjoying this.
He's just so young.
And impetuous.
And doggedly self-serving.
So utterly besotted with her and it's shiny to him and all he wants is to hoard this feeling without any idea if it'll even last, if he won't move onto the next shiny thing on his horizon.
Even if she weren't married, what would they do together beyond this? They don't fit into each other's worlds.
A boy toy in her circle is not unheard of, but it's completely unbecoming.
An older woman palling around with a young man is just blatant self-advertisement of their private lives.
Does this excite him?
Is this something he would be fine with?
His eyes so intense like two blue flames, so engrossed in her like she were his whole world, it burns away her own self-awareness until there was only him before her.
Just this once.
She crashes her lips to his, drinking in his satisfied moans and reciprocating his tongue, imbibing herself on a heady cocktail of guilt, shame and carefree licentiousness.
His attention is hers.
His body is hers.
This is cock is hers.
And just this once.
Just this once she is his.
Their kiss is broken by the intensifying pleasure, their foreheads stuck together and noses and lips lazily grazing as their panting and moans fill the space between them.
There's so much pressure in her lower belly and she just wants more of him, she wants to come undone just this once, to burn away completely.
He's so big and hard and fills her in ways she never imagined.
She never thought she needed something like this.
She never felt like this was missing in her marriage, or maybe those feelings died so early on that she never retained their bitterness.
She once had everything else she needed with Toneri and that was enough.
Toneri was enough.
She works her hips down on Uzumaki-kun's perverted dick harder and faster, the bathwater now violently thrashing around them. She's fucking him like she owns him and this is meant for her and her alone.
His arms cling to her waist as he competitively drives himself inside her harder and her moans climb into cries and her cries into rapturous screams.
And their world burned white hot with their climax.
Her cries rang out as he pounded her into the bed, her legs folded back, his hands forcing her knees to touch her shoulders.
She had no idea what made him think she would be flexible enough to do this. He was lucky the pleasure overrode the discomfort stretching her muscles beyond their limit.
Or maybe the discomfort added to it.
Different shades of anxiety interplayed on the muddled canvas of her mind, and the sudden splash of hot cum inside her body helped her none.
He collapsed onto her a piece at a time, first onto his knees, then briefly sitting, then his head coming to rest on the pillow of her breasts. Their heavy breathing matched in time, chests heaving like rolling waves.
A glance at the digital clock in the alcove at the head of the bed informed her it was 10:49 pm.
She's been fucking a college student for four hours straight and she had no excuse for her excessive absence.
Tears boiled forth as she drew a clammy forearm across her eyes and she stilled the pain in her chest.
She's been snared.
By her own selfishness.
Her heart feels like it got its wing stuck in its cage door and it's flying vigorously with one wing to get out.
She has to buy more preventative contraception.
The hotel's got an endless supply of courtesy condoms and he doesn't even try to use them. Nor does he try harder to pull out. She doesn't want some college brat's baby.
The words that somehow got her here ring back to her.
Let's be retarded together.
Her ribcage creaks with the suppression of her whine, and he shifts atop her like a startled animal.
"Hey. Hey, what's the matter?"
"I need to go home."
"But-"
"No. Right now. I need to go home."
He climbs off her gingerly.
She rolls over onto her side and she no longer seems to have spatial awareness. Her clothes are scattered within reach, but they all feel planets away from her.
Fetching her panties, her skirt, her bra, is all a chore.
Her torn pantyhose are flung into the little trash bin beside the nightstand, her emotional disarray fully communicated in her dramatic gestures. And she searches for her blouse next.
His heavy footfalls approach her like a stampede. His hands are touching her tear-streaked face and she swats him away.
But he keeps touching her.
Trying to see her face.
"Knock it off..!"
"Hinata, just look at me!"
"Otsutsuki-san! Otsutsuki-san! What is wrong with you?! You never listen!"
She's never raised her voice at him before and he's instantly cowed.
He retracts his hands and takes a couple steps back. He's hovering like an astronaut tethered to the station. He's just encountered something unknown and dangerous and now he's growing more certain he must head back.
His body leans towards the bed, one foot shifted in its direction every so slightly.
He finally retakes his seat on the edge and she fumbles to re-button her blouse.
The silence that hangs between them, it might as well be the cold, lonely realm of outer space.
She's working on her shoes when he calls out to her.
"Will you reply when I text you back?"
"Of course not. Do you think I want other people to find out what I've been doing with a nineteen year old boy?"
His head lifts slightly, dim blue flames glimmering in his gaze. "When's a good time for you? I promise I'll stop bugging you during the day."
"There is no 'good time', Uzumaki-kun-"
His head lifts more and his eyes seem to burn brighter, rekindled by futile hope.
"Then will I see you tomorrow morning? At our shared place?"
His persistence only fed her disdain.
"Don't you have enough material now?"
He perks up confused, the wounding of her words only growing more apparent over time. "What?"
"You make do with your hand and your fabricated image of me. Isn't that enough now?"
Red crawled across his face as his features creased and contorted with indignant anger.
"No! It's not! I'm not jerking off to you like you're a porn star anymore!"
"'Anymore'!"
Now it was her turn to flush red. Vindication never felt so bitter.
"I REALLY LIKE YOU!"
Her heels stamp loudly across the carpet as she moves into his space to confront him, his belligerent blues setting her ablaze in a whole new way.
She bent forward at the waist and gripped his chin, forcing his gaze to level with hers.
"Are you really sure about that?" she questions him in a low whisper. "At your age."
He scoffed. "Don't throw that 'too young to know' shit at me. I don't want to hear that from you Lady-I-married-out-of-high school. But yeah, yeah. I'm really fucking sure I like you, like a whole fucking lot."
God dammit.
She's still going to have to work to throw him off.
"I wonder what's it going to take to kill this reckless crush of yours."
A daring grin stretched ominously across his face. "I'm gonna bet nothing."
"You really think so?"
His eyes widened and suddenly a calmness fell over him. It was almost as if something had finally been resolved in his head.
"Yeah, Sexy, do your worst. I'm game."
A sense of light-headed attraction coiled inside her chest, cheeks and ears warming despite her unending frustration with him and she internally screamed.
God damn him.
Now was not the time for her to recognize his cuteness.
She nudged his face away, enough that she sent him onto his back and she turned away, making a beeline for the door.
He propped himself up on his elbows as he watched her leave with feral amusement.
She paused in the threshold, the shoe bag having captured her imagination. It seemed as evil as her mind was being, egging her on, telling her to do it.
She shot one defiant narrowed glance in his direction as she bent down and took the bag. Then she left the hotel without another word.
She really had planned to leave it with him, to give him the opportunity to return them and get his money back.
But if he's really going to be like this, she has little to feel sorry for.
So she won't.
In the next coming weeks, tiny fires would break out across the city, the combustion of their twin flames too great for their worlds to handle.
It's anyone's guess if regret and shame manage to survive such intense flames.
It's anyone's guess if they bother to clean up after themselves.