(AN: I just wanted to remind you that this was heavily influenced by "Destiny" by Mary J. Blige. Great song. Furthermore, I would like to thank all that have reviewed. I appreciate the words of encouragement and advice. A new chapter will be coming shortly.)
Groggily Sakura roused to a fresh headache pounding in her head.
"What a way to start a morning," she murmured drowsily, silently cursing the day she stopped sleeping in past seven. But brushing her teeth, she knew it was going to be a great day.
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Syaoran, up since five, had already taken a run around his neighborhood and somehow ended himself up at Sakura's front door, some fifteen miles away. He stayed on the porch, wanting her to get up so he could see her again. Syaoran sincerely hoped that one night was enough to think things over, as he had to get back to Paris tonight for his show. As he waited, he fumbled with something in his pocket, which was a ticket for a seat next to him on the plane to Paris, his fingers itching to give it to her. However, he was still nervous about her accepting, not keen to rush her feelings too much. He wanted her to love him, and he figured the best decision was to wait. However, his need to see her was triumphant. So at seven-twenty, after an hour on her porch, he rung the doorbell.
Sakura answered the door, freshly scrubbed and smelling a clean, fresh scent. Her hair was still wet from the shower, but the sight of her slightly wet made Syaoran go crazy inside. She is just so cute! he wanted to yell to the world. Surprise was written all over Sakura's face, but her opened mouth was quickly covered with Syaoran's own. Only after a passion-filled kiss, which made Sakura yearn for more, did Syaoran stop.
"What? No hello?" Sakura joked.
"I thought that was the best hello I could give…" with a devilish grin, he continued, "but if you think that I could do better, I will certainly try…" and laughing at her look of complete shock of how her joke had turned on her, he gathered her into his arms again to kiss her even more passionately than before.
At first she reacted as usual, allowing him to ravage her mouth without reciprocating the kiss, but slowly, she brought her arms around to run her fingers through his blunt tresses.
And then, Sakura began to kiss him with the full force of her desire.
He groaned in pleasure as she finally, finally reacted to him. She placed little nips on his lips, neck and ears, encouraging him even more. As his hands explored her body the night in Paris that seemed so long ago, she began to forage his own. Sakura, when annoyed with his sweatshirt, simply took it off, never breaking their kiss for a minute. And then wanting to feel his chest, she rid him of his shirt as well. His chest, she marveled, was perfect and robust, and she brought her kisses around his chest and down to his stomach.
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Syaoran, meanwhile, this was losing his mind. Sakura was driving him mad with desire, and any coherent thought of waiting, taking it slow, her being seventeen or otherwise was thrown out the window. Her lips were like the softest silk upon his body; he was amazed that her small hands and inexperienced lips could erupt such feelings in him. He gradually led her to the bed, where only the day before she had lain in his arms.
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Sakura, still discovering Syaoran's body was astonished when he began to make a low growling sound as she continued her exploration. But sooner than she thought, he had grabbed her and started to kiss her passionately once more. He lay on top of her again, learning her curves as he had done before. How could she have become even more beautiful than he remembered her? With the vanishing of her robe, all that was left were her cute nightclothes, pink and fuzzy. When he felt her breasts under the fabric, he faltered and yet continued to kiss her. Sakura didn't notice his pause, and only managed to gather him closer to her, as if she needed to be as close to him as possible. She had somehow tangled her legs with his, his leg thrust between her own, her hands adventuring over his muscular back.
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Syaoran didn't want to stop and knew the boiling at his pit of his stomach needed to be satisfied. She was too young, too innocent, too susceptible to his seductions. He couldn't allow himself to take that without speaking with her, without knowing her feelings, and so he silently stopped her advancements, suppressing a smile to the thought of HIM needing to stop this time.
She continued to kiss him, sucking on his lip gently, and then, very much to his shock, she began to tug at his sweatpants. At the thought of them together, in an intimate position, he shuddered slightly, which only allowed her more confidence, and she continued to untie the drawstring to his pants. Hurriedly he halted her hands, not wanting to get beyond the point of no return. Her emerald gaze flew to his face, shock and hurt registering there. He felt a pang of guilt, and as he almost decided to say the hell with it and kiss her, but she maneuvered out from under his body and out of his embrace. In a child-like pout, she turned her back to him, displaying her wonderful curves. He sounded a low guttural growl and collected her into his arms once more. Syaoran kissed her, severely tempted to just leave conversation for later, when his desire had been satisfied. But before they could continue, he paused, and spoke before she could become upset again.
"Sakura, I…I don't know how you feel about me. I love you and want to be with you, but you are young, I don't want to hurt you. You have already seen what the tabloids can do to manipulate things. I could be sent to ja…" but before he could finish Sakura pulled him back to her, kissing him, trying to convince him of her feelings, not sure if she was ready to admit them to him aloud. But when she realized the need in his eyes, the deep yearning for her confession, she couldn't stop herself.
"Oh, Syaoran, how could I not love you? You are so wonderful, kind-hearted and amazing. Ever since the shoot I couldn't stop thinking about you, I was going crazy with desire. And then I learned the real you in Paris, the man who I have been dreaming of all my life." She blushed; alarmed at admitting so much, for she hadn't wanted to say everything she was feeling so quickly.
Sakura desperately needed Syaoran to respond, as he hadn't said anything for some time, his eyes closed, his expression unreadable.
"Say it again," he gently whispered, almost inaudible.
"What?"
"Please, Sakura, say it again, I need to hear it…" His eyes begged her and her heart ached at his obvious need for her answer, as if his whole life depended upon it.
"I love you, Syaoran, more than you may ever know." And with that, he kissed her with the most passion she had ever experienced. With his lips, he too spoke of his undying love, his undying want, and his undying commitment. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both gasping with sheer fervor of longing.
When emerald locked with auburn, finally awareness of their situation sunk in. Through sheer force of will power he levered himself off of her warmth, found his sweatshirt strewn across the floor and reached into the pocket. With a running start, he jumped back onto the bed and gathered her into his arms, kissing her lightly along her lips. Slowly, he revealed his gift, and watched the realization dawn in her eyes.
"Sakura, my love, will you go to Paris with me…" he sighed almost silently, as if preparing himself, "and be my wife?"