[Authors Note]
This fanfiction has an "M" rating for a reason. Perhaps it should be higher up on the scale…
Chapter 28
The wood of the hallway groan from padding feet. Sakura's steps are light and sure, even though her mind is heavy and uncertain. She leads Sasuke Uchiha by the hand into the confines of her bedroom, never breaking eye contact.
Sakura has never done anything like this before. Only women and the occasional family member have seen her nude purposefully, and it's not like she had the best confidence in the world.
The mirror was unkind to her—it showed the dimples on her legs and her unnaturally thick thighs and her nose—god, her nose—why was it so small? She's embarrassed of the stretch marks that stripe the bends of her limbs and her untoned, but healthy, stomach.
Sasuke sits on the edge of her bed releases her hand, so he can hold the wide hips that she hated so much. Her covered breasts parallel his face, but he does not look at them. He looks at her darting eyes and her tongue as it slides over the split on her mouth—the one that he put there from his urgency.
Her breasts are still swathed, although not as tightly, and she showed off the smooth shape of her arms and the fleshy pudge of skin just below her bellybutton. Her bottoms are two sizes too big—they ride low on feminine hips, teasing him with lines that lead to her depths.
In the moonlight, she's absolutely stunning. Chakra throbs behind his irises. He wants to take her in completely.
He wanted her standard-issue ninja top and slit-side skirt. He wanted her in that oversized sweater Jugo had demolished. He wanted her in her long-sleeved top and too-short shorts she wore during their second exam. He wanted her when she slept at night and dreamt of him.
Sasuke closes his eyes. His sharingan had activated, as if he's facing an opponent, someone who needed to be bested. She had no idea just how much he wanted her.
Sakura's voice is throaty. "Look at me, Sasuke."
There was no point in hiding it. Glowing in the dark, red and purple irises fixate on her as if she is nothing more than prey. The rush is familiar—it's the same want CYLAN had projected into her head before. She watches as he lazily takes her in, spinning tomoe swallowing up the map of her body. She keeps her arms firmly by her side, resisting the urge to cover.
It has to be her idea—her thoughts. Sasuke knows that he was weak enough to deflower her here and now, if she'd let him. Like a dog, he waits patiently for the next command. He does not steal his food. He is patient.
"Kiss me," She says.
He starts at her navel unexpectedly, sprinkling brushes in an unhurried, tantalizing circle. He trails upwards, over Sakura's lower ribcage and finally to the white cloth that hid her breasts.
With steady hands, Sasuke glides his palm over her bust. For a fleeting moment, he wonders if he's done something wrong because she flinches from the caress. Her face shows passion, though.
Maybe she's just…overly sensitive.
That described her well.
He massages the flesh slowly until a buds protrude. Brushing his thumb against them, the man speaks gruffly against her skin. "Tell me what you want, Sakura."
"T-Touch me," She whispers breathlessly.
For the first time, Sakura doesn't feel looked down on. She doesn't feel like her words and actions are carried off with the wind, unimportant, trivial. As his mouth glides against her midsection, Sakura thinks of all of the times her naivety outshined her true skill, her true feelings.
Sakura was a virgin, but not in the sweet sense of the word. She was not some pure, elegant thing that batted of men's affections so she could wait until properly wed—until it was done right.
No, Sakura was not as innocent as everyone perceived her to be.
Time and time again, she thinks of what she and Sasuke would have been if he'd have stayed. She thinks of giving herself to him on a mission, perhaps—maybe even sneaking off so Kakashi and Naruto wouldn't be able to hear their muffled noises.
She is only untouched because other things had preoccupied her—much more than the craving of a man's flesh. (Ya know, the whole, "Sasuke Uchiha has joined Orochimaru and wants to kill his brother and maybe everyone else, too." thing.)
Sakura wanted to be strong. She wanted to bring Sasuke back with her own two hands, bleeding and wounded and on the edge of living.
His index finger slides between the pleats of her bindings.
Sakura takes in this moment, because Sasuke was seeing her for who she really was—a woman, a dauntless one at that. And he had come back, finally, after all this time.
He teases her beneath the cloth, brushing the hardened peaks as delicately as possible. The man moves the material aside to expose the darkened skin of her breast, and when they are visible to the air, they tighten. His head presses into her diaphragm and the ends of his hair feathers against her nipple. She winces once more.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes," Sakura replies hastily, not wanting to talk, not wanting to slow down.
Sasuke's lips skim across the slope of her breasts which desire his touch. He's waiting for her to speak, because he likes the sound of her voice when she misses him, when she begs him to do something.
Stop, please, I'm begging you, don't leave.
I love you, if you just stay with me, I promise we'll have fun every day.
I'm not playing.
"Please, Sasuke…"
Sasuke takes her nipple into his mouth. His tongue lays flat against the gem as he tastes, only pulling away to blow hot air across it. She throws her head back, savoring the unfamiliar touch, craving the fever of his lips. Sakura cannot help it. She tugs at the nape of his neck, gathering the spiky strands.
The jar in her core twirls a single marble around and around and around…
Something is happening.
"Lay down," Sasuke says, letting his thirst taking over. His voice is impatient now and, almost immediately, his contact is no longer compassionate. When Sakura is fully on her back, the man wraps his hands around her wrists and smashes them roughly into her headboard—a warning, of sorts. "Keep them up here."
Sakura's heart is hammering into her chest as she holds her position obediently. He slides low, working himself down to the waistband of her pants, over the protrusion of her ribs and the concavity of her stomach.
Each kiss leaves an agitated trail of magma, incinerating her flesh from both the outside and inside all at once. When his teeth scrape against her supersensitive hipbone, Sakura's hand reaches for his head again..
He catches it, looking up at her with piercing eyes. "Don't touch me."
Sakura stares dazedly below, helpless to the beast that swallows her whole.
She knew that Sasuke had a dark past, riddled with torture and hate and, perhaps even abuse—though he purposely put himself through most of it. If this was what Sasuke had become, then she would just have to react accordingly. He was primal, in this moment, which forces Sakura her thoughts.
Sasuke wraps his mouth around her breast again—he is everywhere—and she can't stand the pleasure. Her head presses deep into the pillow and another noise bounces off of her tongue—she doesn't even understand where it's coming from. These sounds have hidden inside of her.
Sasuke is relentless as he tugs, pulling at her tip painfully as his teeth captures the other. Her fists clench. Sakura can't touch him.
But…that doesn't mean she'll give up so easily.
She wraps around his waist and captures him between her legs. It's a bold move, but her body is reactive. She understands the desire for such a position when she feels his own pleasure beneath the layers of his pants, pressing tightly into the cloth.
In a way, this was like combat.
Sasuke feels the warmth between her and tries to reposition himself, as if he didn't want her to know she had such an effect on him. The woman locks him between her thighs and bucks up his length.
They both respond to this—Sasuke stammers with surprise, and Sakura's head tries to process the response.
The marble in her jar rebounds off of the glass walls quickly—dizzyingly.
What is this?
More, more, moremoremoremoremore….
Something churned within her.
It throbbed, it yearned—it wanted to break free.
Sasuke pushes her back into the mattress and his mouth closes around her jugular. He grinds in reply, moving her hips for her into his friction. His authority was stratospheric, his grip was powerful, and his pressure was hitting this one…tiny…spot, hungrily between dry thrusts.
Sakura doesn't know to hold back, and she's happy she didn't. The walls of her glass jar crack from the pressure and the marble shatters—every muscle in her body tightens with anticipation that lasts only a half-second.
Sakura's toes curl, her lips part and with a addicting squeal. She coils around him and locks her ankles together keeping him firmly in place. Sasuke hears his name escape her mouth, SasukeSasukeSasuke, as if it's the only word she knew. She grips his dark hair powerfully and before he can reprimand her, he feels the pulsations from between her thighs.
She shakes, quivering from her release.
Everything stops in this moment and Sasuke tries to comprehend. He pulls away and hovers above her form as guilt rakes through his body, digging at his morality as he looks at her.
Her breasts are jutting between the creases of her top. Her eyes are squeezed shut, leaking tears of either pain or pleasure—he did not know. He watches her chest rise and fall as she dithers from her high.
Sasuke cannot stop the commanding feeling of remorse that gathers within him.
What the hell am I doing?
It was supposed to be perfect; candles and flowers and an ivory gown, all that other shit good girls and boys dreamed of.
They weren't even dating and he'd…
…he'd almost…
Sasuke's eyebrows furrow and he moves, leaning into the blue polka-dot sheets of her bed.
"Sasuke?" She asks. Her voice is thick with sex although she'd only gotten a fraction of what it was.
He chances another glance and he wishes he wouldn't have. She's too perfect for him. His heart hammers in his chest, fighting off the adrenalin that swarmed his veins as she blinks sensually at him. Sakura had peaked just from friction. Looking deep into her crystalline eyes, hidden behind heavy lashes and a layer of saline tears from ecstasy, he crumbles.
This just reiterated his point, after all. A woman like her didn't belong in his gravitational pull.
Sakura pants and tries to gather her breath. She didn't expect him want to leave so soon—he hadn't even…
Her face is redder than he'd ever seen it before. He moves to stand, adjusting his erection carefully through the material of his pants. Sasuke runs his fingers across his scalp—it's tender from her tug. He can't think in this room that smells like intermingled breathes and the sweat that coated their skin—he needed fresh air.
He looks at her and opens his mouth before he can think of an excuse. An "I'm sorry," or an "It was a mistake."
She didn't deserve any of this…this…desire.
Her fatigued movements draw him in as her arms leisurely slide up the length of the cobalt duvet. She crosses her wrists above her head and firmly presses them into the ebony backboard, making a thump similar to his previous pressure.
"I won't move my hands again, Sasuke." She mumbles apologetically with a pouted lip. "I promise not to do it again."
His head spins, eyeing the seductive before him like she was truly an enigma.
"I feel like I'm gonna die…." Sakura admits in a huff, letting air slip from between petal-like lips, squeezing her shimmering legs together.
Goddamn. Sasuke shakes his head, weary of her boldness. "Sakura, you don't have to do this."
Sakura can't help but notice the regret in his voice.
But right now…
…
She feels bold.
She feels strong and sensual and as she falls from her high, and Sakura will be damned if Sasuke ruined yet another moment for them.
No more of this bullshit.
No more of the push and pull, back and forth, left and right.
"What the hell are you talking about, stupid?"
Usually when a man and a woman felt such intense feelings for one another, the buildup would leave them in a tangled mess between sheets. The movies and books all played out the same way. Sure, she's never…done any of this before…but that didn't mean she didn't understand her bodies wants and needs. If anything, her advanced chakra control proved just how much she knew herself.
She craved this.
Sasuke takes a step back but Sakura is fast. She stands atop her bed, holding tightly to his shirt. He has to look up at her. "Stop leaving me when things get good."
"You don't deserve this," he declares, saying what he's been thinking this whole time.
He was bad, she was good—devil and angel, salt and sugar, winter and spring—they were complete opposites. "I'm not the man you need me to be."
Sakura feels her temper flare. Suddenly, her semi-nudeness is not enough. She tugs at the bands that were pressing tightly against her swells, pulling the wrap off completely. Sasuke's eyes immediately move towards her milky skin.
"Sasuke…I don't need a man to be my anything."
Using his hand as leverage, she pulls, and the sudden movement sends Sasuke tumbling into her bed. The entire thing shakes, slamming against the wall from his pressure and she straddles him in her standing position, giving him an uphill view from her sweatpants-covered legs to her unadorned torso.
Sasuke wraps his hands around her calves, looking into her downcast gaze. "You don't have to do this for me."
"If I was doing it for you," She purrs, "We'd still be sitting across from each other in my living room."
With her bindings in her hand, she moves quickly, wrapping the cloth around Sasuke's wrists and pulling the rest of the fray through the openings of her headboard, successfully tying him in place.
Sasuke is too curious to object, but still a ninja nonetheless. He tugs against the cloth that used to cover her, finding that the knot is powerful and that…
…that he uh, kind of…doesn't want to break it, anyways.
Redness dusts his cheeks.
Sakura is as gentle when she touches him this time. Using only her fingertips, she lifts his chin so she can see every centimeter of his face. "I get it. I get that I don't look very feminine—I don't have a big chest and a toned stomach or perfect skin. But you know what?"
Sasuke can't find his breath to answer her.
"I don't care anymore. I'm tired of being this demure little girl that everyone feels sorry for. I want to have sex—lots of sex—crazy, wild sex with someone I love. So stop treating me like some…prudish…"blushing bride" already. "
"You're a virgin," he replies quickly, shaking his head as she falls onto his lower abdomen with a plop. He's hard, and her pressure does nothing to mollify him.
As if reading his mind, Sakura floats along his length once more—down, up, stopping just at the tip.
He hates the barriers between them, and he hates that his body defies what his mind is furiously commanding. Grunting, ready to end this, Sakura shoots another arrow into his midsection.
"So, take it." The woman shrugs. Embarrassment took up too much room and she wanted to be as close to him as she could get. "It's not like I'm a virgin on purpose. I didn't really have time to mess around while Tsunade was kicking my ass everyday on the training ground."
"You…" his voice hitches as she pulls up his shirt, running her hot palms over his abdominals—all the way down to his Adonis belt. She fumbles with his waistband. "You weren't waiting for me?"
She scoffs, sliding her finger on the inside of his elastic. "I guess, in a way. I…wasn't ever attracted to anyone else. If I had been—if I fell in love with someone else—I think I would have already..."
"Ah,"
"B-Besides…it's not like you waited for me."
"What?"
Her declaration makes his head twirl.
"Doctor-patient confidentiality," she chided. Sakura scoots down so that her warmth isn't constraining him. Only because she wants to see it. She wants to give him his own release—it's only fair, after all.
"I didn't…" He bites his lip, arching his back as she runs her fingertips over the cloth of his pants. Slowly she removes them, leaving them low on hips. "I'm not some sort of…."
Sakura stops at this and looks him in the eye. His face is fevered, his chest rises and falls like it used to when they were kids—when the sun burned brightly in a Konoha drought, and they trained until they dropped.
He's not exhausted or fatigued, though.
Sasuke Uchiha…is blushing.
"You….aren't?"
The man shakes his head, holding back his groan from her caress. "I've been with three people," he admits aloud. "Twice under Orochimaru's order—and once right after I killed—ah—I killed Itachi. To feel something. I didn't."
"You've never done anything like this before?" Sakura asks, working on his boxers. The air is cool on his oven-like skin.
"No,"
Finally, he shows his eyes.
They glow crimson and violet, leaving trails of light in the deep obsidian of her bedroom. Sakura watches his tomoe spin before he shuts them tight again.
"You don't want to look at me?"
Man, she was thoroughly enjoying her dominance, teasing him at every opportunity. This was not a place for judgment, after all. Whether he had or he hadn't, it didn't matter, because right now Sasuke belonged to Sakura.
"I don't want to see what you're going to do, before you do it."
Not asking for permission, not timidly, Sakura pulls down his underwear and releases him into the humidity of the sex-laden room.
She stares.
And stares.
And stares.
Sasuke opens one eye—his rinnegan, and takes in her face.
Her eyebrows were drawn together, not in confusion or embarrassment, but rather, in wonder. She'd seen the occasional erection as a nurse—all different types. Looking at his member, hovering her hand just above his shaft, Sakura cannot help but say the first thing that comes to mind.
"What…what…do I do now?"
She knew about mouth things…and hand things… the logistics were easy enough. But staring at the unfamiliar swell seemed to crash her back down to earth.
"What…?" Sasuke asks, not bothering to hide his confusion. "You just…touch it."
"Will it hurt?" She asks. "What if I don't do it good?"
"No, it won't hurt. It's not like you can do it wrong." Jesus fucking Christ, this girl.
She takes him into her hand immediately and his eye closes once more, rolling back into his head as he savors the sudden pressure. The man leans back into her mattress, hitting his head harshly against the wood of her backboard.
Her touch is delicate and she feels the pulse that runs through him—throb, throb, throb—it's a fast heartbeat, one that she may have been concerned about in a different situation.
Sakura watches in awe as he tries to push against her palm. "Harder," he bites out.
This was the most sensitive part of a man, wasn't it? How much was…too hard? She squeezes tightly and apparently it's not enough, because Sasuke breaks through her bonds and wraps his hand around her own, stroking.
With his eyes shut and blackness engulfing him, Sasuke has no idea that Sakura is so close until she wrenches his hand away and takes him fully into her mouth. The sensation is too much, too sudden, and Sasuke jerks his head upwards just in time to see her full, pouty lips move past his crown and down his length.
Sasuke feels his climax build up.
It was like the need for something, and simultaneous fulfillment rocked around him all at once. Sasuke felt the mind-shattering thirst build up within him as she worked herself up, down, up, down, moving him between her slightly grazing teeth.
"Sakura,"
He'd never think of doing something so…so…degrading? Wasn't it degrading to women? Sasuke wouldn't have asked this of her in a million, billion years. But as she blows and pulls him closer to the edge, he's fucking happy she did.
Sakura lays her tongue flat, letting it cushion his crest as it enters her mouth. She wraps around him with one hand, forcing it to move vertically as he piles through her warmth. He cranes forward to watch bobbing locks of pink hair cocoon her red, fevered cheeks.
Sasuke's sharingan is blazing. It ravenously takes in every flutter of her pale lashes, every thrust that forces her eyes closed from the depth and the force. She stops for a moment, panting, sliding her fingertips along her swollen mouth before shooting him a lusty grin.
Again, those puffy lips surround him. With a faster cadence before, Sasuke feels his orgasm form, itching for relief. A vibration starts from every corner of his body, coming to a swirling curve at the base of his pelvis. "Sakura, fuck, I'm about to—"
She doesn't stop, though, and Sasuke throws his head back in a greedy release while she takes it all in, letting the thick heat slide across her throat.
Sasuke can't take it anymore. Still flying from his release, he tugs Sakura's body up to him onehandedly and slams her mouth against his. He kisses her—deeply, sensually, letting his tongue roll over the cut on her bottom lip.
She's always tasted sugar-sweet.
"Don't leave me," She whispers against his neck. Sasuke falls into the plush of her mattress. "We could do this every night, if you'd stay with me."
Sasuke let the wind whip his damp, freshly washed bangs harshly against his face. A shutter on the side of her home slapped from the gust, following an unusual tempo in the darkness of the night. Or, was it early morning?
It doesn't really matter.
He sat on the step of her front porch, watching stray cats delve through various trash cans littered throughout the street. Though it was chilly, his skin felt like it was burning under the heat of his cloak.
Sasuke didn't think he could sleep tonight. It had been a long few days—what with almost dying, and all. What else? Ah, yes, his best friend was going to be a father and Sakura Haruno just…blew him, like, an hour ago.
He shook his head and drank in a deep inhale of fresh, freezing air.
They'd been through a lot as of late. Sasuke didn't know where he stood now feeling-wise, but he certainly knew where he started from.
In the beginning, Sakura was nothing more than a comrade from old, unbreakable bonds. He bites his lip, trying to remember how and when she'd wound herself so tightly to him.
The girl had never been much of a fighter, which was odd for a kunoichi. With no real talent except for chakra control, intelligence, and a pension for genjutsu evasion, Sasuke found her to be more of an annoyance than an ally.
And, when he said annoyance, he didn't mean it to be derogatory or even rude—it was simply a truthful statement, a judge of character. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and Sakura Haruno bothered the hell out of him.
It was annoying when she had spoken about Naruto like he was beneath her just because he was low-class. It was annoying when she tried to get him to stay the first time he left, because she would hurt just as much as he did. And, it was annoying when she tried to sway him from his battle with Naruto mere months ago.
But, Sasuke finds that these are things that bother him because they involve the worst of her emotions—condescension, sadness, and desperation—and he didn't really care to see any of that.
So when, during all of this weakness, did Sakura start to mean something to him?
The first feelings—true feelings—he remembers fluttering in the pit of his stomach when he awoke to her weight over his body in The Land of Waves. For the first time, in a very long time, someone had cried over him, had worried about him.
Was…this…this beautiful mess brewing since then? His need to protect her had evolved as well—from saving her because she was weak, to saving her because she was important.
He pulls at the loose strings of his shirts hem, tugging them lightly as golden leaves waft gently along the street. A pile is gathering at around her mailbox, becoming a makeshift barricade for the dead foliage.
Somehow, after years of resilience and steadfastness, Sasuke had lost his ability to concentrate on important things and found his mind straying more and more to the cherry blossom of Konoha. She's asleep now, recovering from her intoxication in the folds of her blankets—the high that curled her toes and made her wrap around his waist like a cobra. The very same feeling she gave to him.
More and more, Sasuke thinks of "what ifs". What if he would have stayed—what if he would have grown with her and Naruto and found out about Itachi the right way?
He tastes copper in his mouth and finds that he's gnawed through his raw lip. The moon shone brightly, reflecting the newly bare branches of the oak tree in the front yard.
The man knew that thinking of the past would get him nowhere, because it would always be filled with "what ifs". More than anything, Sakura didn't need "what ifs" to weigh her down. Sasuke wanted her to be happy.
Sakura didn't care about formalities and traditionalism.
She did care about his presence.
And that was a happiness he could not give her…not for a while.