Chapter 33

Sakura feels sort of like a bride. Or perhaps, what a bride might feel like on their wedding night. Sasuke steps over the threshold to her room, turning slightly to avoid knocking her head into anything. This place was sanctuary—where she healed her wounds after long missions, where she cried after losing a patient, where she giggled and weaved her hair. Yes, her mirror may cackle at her appearance, but that was simply a product of her own self-doubt.

As always, the place is dim. The ceiling fan hums, though it's cold outside, and the chill makes her nude flesh bumpy. Sasuke sets her down on the edge of her bed and turns towards her dresser. "What do you want to put on?"

"I don't care," She replies. Her towel slips and Sakura doesn't even try to catch it, she's too focused on the broken piece of concrete still wrapped around her fingers. It didn't matter what she put on, anyways. "You've already seen everything."

With a tsk, Sasuke decides to search for himself. Her bareness wasn't so much the trouble—it was the surrender in her tone. Something was very wrong here, and Sakura shouldn't have to face her problems naked and unguarded. No one could feel comfortable doing that.

He found a long-sleeved, ankle length gown that was probably better suited for the depths of winter. The fleece material was soft to the touch. Making his way back to the shivering thing before him, Sasuke pulls the dress over Sakura's head and she guides her arms through herself.

Sakura's mind is still gone. She thinks of the Uchiha clan, their ancient laws and traditions—things like, how Uchiha's were always to be respected and held high, and those who opposed needed to be dominated. How the women could choose to battle regardless of their husbands wishes, Uchiha were equal amongst themselves, save for those with sharingan and of course, the head family. How Uchiha's could wed in private with the clan elders permission, regardless of the Hokage's approval.

Tsunade had allowed her the access, and Sakura wishes her former teacher wouldn't have. Because of course Sasuke would want to carry on his lineage. It was his duty to his people.

With slow, lethargic movements Sakura wraps her arms around Sasuke's narrow waist. Sasuke, although not used to the contact, is not surprised by the affections. This girl had always been the hugging type.

He can't see much, which is annoying, but his hands find her cheeks out of muscle memory. The feel of her was mesmerizing and strangely wistful. As he smooths down her wild locks, he thinks of how to proceed. Words do not come easily for him.

Opening his mouth to offer support, for emotions he does not understand, a small jab against his back furrows his eyebrows. What…?

In an instant, his hand captures Sakura's and he unravels her hug to look at what she holds. That rock…?

"Oh," Sakura begins, showing emotion rather than apathy. "Oh, this is…"

What could she say? This is the stone that broke her? The closest she'd ever gotten to an Uchiha proposal, a simple hunk of cement that a toddler thought was interesting—that Sasuke teased her with—had really and truly shattered her glass heart?

Sasuke kisses her before the tears can pour out again.

There is urgency in his lips and power in his hands as he cradles her face once more. His fingers tangle into pink strands, he tilts her head back and exposes her neck, trailing pecks from the corner of her ear to the dip of her clavicle. .

Sasuke's mouth was comforting, in a way that his words could never be. Sakura understood that he wasn't expressive, and that his actions spoke louder than any string of sentences could. But what was he trying to say?

That he pitied her?

His hand drifts to her lower back, pulling her against his torso. Though the fabric of her gown was thick, she could feel all of Sasuke's flawlessness—his sculpted chest, the ridges of his abdominals, the swells of muscle hidden in his shoulders and arms. He was rough and conditioned to a life of killing and conflict. Yet, he is gentle when he guides her on her back.

Tentatively, she trembles and closes her eyes, pressing petal-like lips into his as soon as the chance arises. It's not chaste. It's not delicate and smooth and sweet and pure. Sakura lets her tongue slip past his teeth, hoping he feels how much she wants him right now…wants it.

…even if only for a moment…even if Sasuke would leave her and never look back, when he found out…

The stone falls from her hand as she pulls him closer, wrapping her legs around his hips.

Sasuke's head whirls as Sakura lifts the hem of his shirt, gliding her nails gently over his skin. She tugs the material over his head, running her hands against every inch of flesh that was covered mere seconds ago. She savors the texture, the dips and curves, the rolling of power that intimidates his enemies and draws her nearer. The drawstring of his pants falls loose by her deft hand.

"Sakura," Sasuke warns suddenly. We are going to go too far.

Yet, he gathers her nightdress to the peak of her thighs. Her skin is velveteen under his rough palms—suave, delicious, and addicting. Sasuke relishes the feeling, caressing her like they'd never get the chance again.

Maybe they wouldn't.

Maybe Hojo would consume her heart.

He was not absent, like Sasuke would be. Hojo could bring her flowers and hold her hand, take her dancing, kiss her when everyone watched on. Hojo wasn't tortured by guild and past memories, by the blood of his clan. Hojo could love without hindrance. Sasuke could never, not even in this moment, because he is choosing his own selfish wants over what was best for Sakura.

The taste of her tongue teased his inner demon. I will never be the man of her dreams.

"I'll kill him." Sasuke whispers into her ear abruptly, dragging his teeth along her lobe. His heart beats faster, with both anger and excitement.

No, Sasuke would never be the man of her dreams…but he would protect them with all of his might. Sasuke would do everything in his power to make sure Sakura was happy—to make sure she got everything she ever wanted or needed. He would move mountains for this girl.

If Sakura gave the word, Sasuke wouldn't even hesitate.

"If he hurts you, I'll kill him."

"Who?" Sakura pulls away and her head twirls from the lack of traction. She wishes she could see more of him than his luminescent rinnegan, but it wouldn't do much anyways. He was so hard to read in moments like this.

"Your boyfriend," Sasuke explains, trailing down to the collar of her gown. His hand flits dangerously close to her pelvic bone. Sasuke wasn't afraid of danger, though. He smooths down the fabric with a tantalizing slowness. "Anyone really—anyone that you need me for."

Sasuke wouldn't say he was jealous. Jealousy involved envy, and he certainly didn't envy that brown-headed fuck right now. What's there to covet? Sasuke asks himself as he raises Sakura up, sliding the gown over her stomach. I'm going to take her like he could never.

His sharingan blazes, staring at the petite kunoichi trapped between his knees. He can see the rise and fall of her sternum, the tremble of her lips, the flecks emerald and yellow and minty-green that sparkles in her eyes. There's so much more.

Calmly, slowly, Sasuke undresses the woman beneath him and throws her pajama's into the void, unworried about where it may land. So many things pirouette within Sakura, but her availability seems to take precedence. How could Sasuke have gotten it so wrong? "Hojo isn't—"

Sasuke takes her mouth harshly. No more Hojo, with his fake smiles and calculated touches that seem to go unnoticed— no more risqué geisha with sharp claws and demonic eyes tainting his soul.

It's Sasuke and Sakura now…not forever, not for always, but for now.

That's all he could give her.

Milky skin taunts him, and the freckle that guarded the valley of her breasts pleaded for his touch. He backs away, letting his sharingan follow line that starts from just below the center of her ribcage and ends right above the tiniest, tastiest bellybutton he'd ever seen in his entire life. Her freckles are a constellation. Her body is a galaxy. Pink curls taper off between thick thighs, begging for his pressure. There is a scar, low on her abdominals that discolors the area around it. His thumb slides over the imperfection, causing Sakura to jump.

It feels like she's in a foggy, smoke-filled room. It's hard to breathe.

"I have to tell you something," She admits softly as his fingertips touch the piece of her body she hates more than anything. It tickles almost. Sakura squeezes her legs together and draws them upwards, shifting away from his hands while curling her arms around her chest. "But I'm scared."

She's not frightened of Sasuke, or even his reaction. She's afraid of where this will leave them if they continue. Does he expect a child from this? Would he find her disgusting if she told him the truth—like suddenly being unfruitful made her less of a woman? Or, perhaps worse of all…would he take her because he felt obligated to?

Sasuke sits up, able to see better in the blackness now. He watches as she covers herself, recoiling away, letting the jaded film of whatever haunted her contort her features.

"Don't fuck me out of pity." The word was bitter in her mouth.

The word was vile in his head.

Out of…pity? Sasuke has never had anything. Good or bad, right or wrong, his choices have always been his. Perhaps, in some cases, manipulation led him more towards one path than another, but the ultimate decision belonged solely to Sasuke. On top of her, like this, was just more proof.

His body did not heed what his mind told him to do; Sasuke constantly battled the bad thoughts, the cowardly feelings, and the harsh opinions that writhed to take over. Brain, heart, gut, it was never the same. His spirit leads the way, always. Now, his spirit is angry.

"Turn around," Sasuke commands, all but growling at Sakura. Ignoring the confused blink she sent, frustrated by her hesitation, the man rolls her onto her belly with a proficient ease. Brain fuzzing, heart pounding, gut clenching, he bends to whisper in her ear. "I'm not fucking you."

No, his soul wished to devour her whole.

Sasuke presses his mouth against the nape of her neck, dragging his lips over the delicate arc. Sensually, he travels down her spine, dotting kisses to the bends and curves of her lower back. His hands massage the knots of her shoulders and the space between, all the while nipping at tender flesh.

He couldn't quite understand his need to sink his teeth into her. Maybe it was her physical reaction—the way she mewled and arched and her fingers curled into the bedding. Or perhaps, the weakness belonged only to him.

He leans to the side and guides her to do the same, lifting her chest and belly off the mattress so more of her was exposed. He can see the swell of her breasts and the peaks of her nipples as her body reacted to his teasing. His palms glide across, squeezing and grasping, letting the bits roll across the pads of his fingers. Downward he marches, tapping to her ticklish navel, drawing circles that foreshadow what was to come.

When he reaches the top of her pubic bone, Sakura whips backwards and digs into his biceps. Sasuke is elite. He dodges the unintended head-butt and keeps his hand firmly in place, tormenting the area he'd touched only hours before on her couch.

Sakura's eyes are cemented shut. She huffs heavy outbreaths, craving more but terrified of where this was taking them.

The most she'd had in contact with herself was no-nonsense cleaning and occasional stickiness of a wet dream. Sasuke was not one to hesitate for no reason. He was waiting for permission, or perhaps a beg, that would let him explore her again. She peels her eyes open and looks ahead, even as Sasuke's lips leave fire from her jawline to her ear.

This isn't forever.

"Sakura," He asks with a calm tenderness. With his right hand buried between her thighs, Sasuke uses his left to turn her chin towards him. Pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, he speaks their own precious words. "Trust me,"

And just like that, she gives in. Sakura spreads her legs, letting him touch her core, unashamed of how much her body wanted him. She's dewy beneath the pads of his fingers. He works the top of her carefully, biting down on her throbbing jugular as she bows her back, pushing into his own throbbing middle.

His fingers move in little circles, making water drizzle from between her eyelashes. Her moans waft around the room and pressure builds within her abdominals. Sakura isn't sure of how many squeaks and gasps have escaped, but Sasuke seems to savor every one of them. Each sound that pressed through her clenched teeth makes him move faster.

This feeling was different from anything else before. Instead of one measly marble in her inner jar conveniently labeled "ecstasy", Sasuke filled the damned thing to the brim. She was shaking, rebounding as the glass container spun madly.

"Not yet," he tells her, even though he picks up the pace.

"How do I stop it?" She responds, shutting her eyes so tightly that flecks of white spot around her vision. Sakura sucks on her bottom lip, trying to hold off for him. His fingers hover over that place. Her hips move to guide him, although she's unfamiliar with the territory of her own palace.

Her bottom brushes against his thickness, hidden away until called upon.

"You're big," She says in a shaky whisper. Her mind feels…carbonated. A deep blush stains the bridge of her nose. How is this going to fit?

"Ah," He retorts.

Sensing her trepidation, Sasuke starts moving south, littering kisses along the way. She turns, watching as his tongue drags over her collarbone, down to her breast, taking her in his mouth gently. She tugs at his hair, accepting the new pleasure with a bewitching moan. She squeezes her legs shut. Sasuke doesn't like that.

"Open," He commands as he releases her and guides her knees apart with his chin.

"What are you doing though?" She asks, giving into his pressure. Sasuke slides his forearm under her bottom and lifts it up, staring at her essence for a long, squeal-inducing moment. More than anything she wants to squirm away from his gaze and pull him back up to her.

Sasuke dances his palms over her silky skin, calming her so she'll expose herself completely. He wants to see everything, in every detail. Leaning in, his lips press a tantalizing peck to her inner thigh.

Sakura relaxes, just a bit.

With an unhurried lethargy, he makes his way up, tasting what she had to offer. Finally, he kisses her there, tasting the syrup between her legs. She's like this because of him, and Sasuke feels nothing but pride in that statement. Sakura's wet for him. Sakura wants only him. Her hands tangle again and she pulses, shutting her legs forcefully though they can't completely close. The feeling is foreign and provocative all at the same time.

Sasuke tastes her completely, flattening his tongue sliding it over the most sensitive area of her body. He's hot, moving in rhythmic patterns to the beat of Sakura's tempo. Each buck sends more pressure to that certain spot, and his fingernails bite into both her bottom and stomach as he pulls her closer towards him.

He's never been one to enjoy sweets—Sasuke didn't like candy and sugar or anything of the sort. But for some reason, all he can think about is caramel; gooey, delicious, scalding.

The man lifts his head up, just for a moment. Sasuke drifts over her tummy, past each breast, and finally along her jaw. His eyes take in everything as he sits up. This is the end of something they'd both wanted for a very long time.

Sasuke makes him ups mind. His resolve hardens. Sasuke decides to belong to Sakura, in whatever way she needed him.

The last of the Uchiha is also, incidentally, he elder of his clan at only age 20. Under law, he can marry without the Hokage's permission. There were loopholes and clauses, undoubtedly, but the peace that washes over him seems to drown the cautions.

Sasuke belonged to Sakura now, and the decision made things so much more simple.

When—if—Sakura decided she'd had enough of Hojo, or whatever lover she accompanies as the years progress, Sasuke would be there to take her away and hide the bodies, to answer to her beck and call.

Sasuke decides he can't hold off much longer. The man sits up and readies himself. They were both in new waters—he was the man-eating shark, and she was the diver dangling her feet above the ocean. Sasuke can only think of one thing to calm himself in this moment. It's the only thing that mattered before he hurt her, every time.

Sasuke looks into her face, and Sakura's never seen such a genuine expression. "Tell me what you told me when I left the village at thirteen."

…what…?

He continues, never wavering, pressing the backs of her thighs into the tops of his. "Tell me what you said before I put you in my genjutsu after the war. Tell me what you said after you fought Jugo."

"Sasuke…?"

"Tell me," he whispers, running his damp knuckle along the outside of her sex, then extending a finger over the opening. "Sakura, tell me that you love me."

"I love you," She hisses the phrase as his finger enters her. It's one at first, and then two into her core, stretching her in a way she's never experienced. It is so mind numbing, only the rush of her blood and the pressure of Sasuke's hips kept her in place.

After all of this, thank God that it doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt at all. She was expecting a sting or at least a sharp jolt—perhaps a pinch or a scratch or something of the sort. Instead she wants more. It's simply not enough.

His palm hits the top of her, teasing the hidden pearl as he moves inside. She bends her hips, trying unsuccessfully to be filled. There's a bubble within that his pumping fingers are about to burst. After a few more minutes of his slow cadence, she gives in. Sakura doesn't want hands or lips or tongues anymore. She wants him; all of him.

"Take me," she gasps. "I love you, just take me already,"

He removes his fingers from within her and she watches as he pulls his pants down, exposing his manhood almost immediately. Sasuke doesn't want to wait anymore either. The Uchiha has taken a bride—though she may not know it—though she may not ever know it. It's just another secret to keep from her. Just another thing that would break her if she knew.

Sasuke thinks that deep down, he will always be weak when it comes to her.

Sakura can't keep her eyes off him as he wipes the brow of his forehead. He's perfect in every way. The scars of his body tell the stories of his life. Each muscular outline formed from years upon years of battle and training and torture, torturetorturetorture. She wants to heal the scarred-over wounds, though she knew it was impossible. She wants to fix his damaged mind, though it would probably never be the same. She wants him.

"Can I touch you?" She asks.

He guides her hands.

Licking her lips, Sakura wraps around him slowly, watching as he leans his head back. She goes faster, and faster, amazed at how he reacts to her pressure and temperature. It was as if she held the key to his livelihood.

Maybe, for most men, she did.

"I love you Sasuke," She says, and he groans huskily from her words. It makes her smile—her heart is light and airy and she's proud that her movements are making him behave this way.

But, Sakura's body feels empty. She wants Sasuke to take her over the edge.

Sakura lets go and falls into the blanket, spreading her legs, no longer afraid of pain or proprieties. In this moment, they are man and woman—but they are not one, and it hurts her very essence.

Sasuke needs to touch base with her, first, before anything else happened. It was something that must be said aloud, for his own peace. He can pledge himself to Sakura, and belong to her throughout his travels without her ever knowing.

But, at least for the night, he needed her to promise him.

Sasuke didn't want this to be regret, or an "accident", or the result of two horny humans that can't work away from arousal. Sasuke had no more room for repentances. What he did, he accepted.

He can see her now. The moon has moved past the tree by her window, casting its beams on Sakura like the Goddess she was. Her glowing flesh makes him weak. Sweat coats her skin, her hair is a mess, and she's…she's…she's so perfect.

"If we do this," Sasuke begins, keeping his voice low. "I don't want to pretend it didn't happen."

"I couldn't,"

Her response is immediate and oddly obligatory. Sasuke shakes his head, hoping she truly understands. "You have to promise me." He holds himself in his hand and teases her passage, gliding along her entrance.

It feels like she was missing this pressure since puberty, like this is what her body had always been destine for. She wanted him so badly, so much. Her head spins. "I promise."

Moving gently, Sasuke adjusts her legs over his spread thighs. His hand reaches up to her face, fingers extended. Sasuke taps the diamond on her forehead lingeringly. He says what he always says, when he touches her this way.

You're important to me.

Sasuke starts to enter her, squeezing his eyes together so that his sharingan doesn't ruin the surprise of their movements. She feels so good, so flawless, and so delectable he almost forgets to breathe.

Sasuke doesn't want any man to have her in this way. Never, ever like this…

Finally, he enters her.

Finally, they are one.

Sasuke is smooth as he fills her, hitting the back of her center easily. His heat is trapped between her—inside of her—and everything is overly sensitive. As he thrusts, the woman feels her eyes start to roll back into her head from the power of it all. She is being stretched, but it's an addictive kind of hurt, and much better than his fingertips.

For Sasuke, it feels like he's right where he's supposed to be.

Home is not a warm bed, or a familiar toothbrush, or a roof over your head. Home is here, between Sakura's legs as he rides her tides and makes her hiss his name between lewd confessions. She tightens around him and digs her nails into his neck, sliding them over his shoulder blades, peeling his skin.

It's wild between them as two bodies merge. Nothing else mattered in this moment. The sounds of their sex echo in each other's ears—Sakura can't stop moaning, and Sasuke can't stop drinking her in.

The world could end, for all he cared. It was a dangerous type of romance.

She could even get preg…na…nt…

…pregnant, with his child.

…born from their lovemaking.

Holy shit…

Suddenly, he cares, because he's not an idiot. He understands everything involved with taking care of a child—how difficult the tasks would be, especially if he continued his obligated missions through Konoha. Sasuke couldn't leave her with his baby. It wasn't the right time for kids. He couldn't be a good father—not now.

But, why did his heart battle against his head? Everything in his system, his primal, hungry core wanted to let go inside of her. Why did he want her to carry an Uchiha so badly? Is it because she looked impeccable with a toddler on her hip?

"Pregnant," Sasuke says finally, still moving against her.

"Ah, Sasuke, wha…"

"What if I get you pregnant?"

Sakura curves against him, opening wider, wanting him to shatter her walls. They are thinking of similar things—similar releases—though the outcomes were very different. "You won't."

"What if I do?" He huffs, leaning on his hand as he props her bottom up higher. That's better.

"I can't, I—"

Before Sakura can finish her sentence, she loses control. It's as though she surrenders herself fully, letting bliss overflow from every corner of her body. Toes curling, head thrown back, hands squeezing his shoulders painfully, Sakura reaches her zenith. It's a mind-blowing orgasm—the kind she's never felt before.

Sasuke feels the sudden pressure and responds dutifully, spreading his heat into her clenching core. Suddenly, his heart feels like it's going to burst. Sasuke recognizes this heaviness. His thoughts, his feelings and his heart connect to Sakura in a way they never could have before.

He collapses on top of her, still inside, because his whole body is tingling and his arms can't support his weight anymore.

Hot tears spill from her eyes and wet his skin. He wants to fall from his high slowly, but it feels like he's been thrown into an icy ocean. He props himself on his elbow and grabs her face tenderly.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

All Sasuke could think about is how much he fucking loved this woman and how it scared the absolute shit out of him. He hasn't been this exposed in a, long, long time. He hasn't had the burden—no, the blessing—of someone who meant more than life itself to him since his family died. It's a weakness enimies would expose in a heartbeat. It's a weakness he willingly fell into.

"I told you not to regret it." He says, wiping away the tears that trailed her cheeks.

"I don't." She replies, choking on her words. "I don't regret anything, Sasuke. I'm afraid that you will."

Sasuke kisses her again, setting her skeleton on fire. His lips were her salvation—the reason for her existence—everything she ever wanted and couldn't have. Sasuke made her feel like this could work out. Like they could do this every night, for the rest of their lives, and live a happy little life in a small cottage somewhere in a far off land where clans didn't matter and neither had an obligation to their village.

Sakura couldn't have that, though. Not with him being the last of the Uchiha.

It was now or never. With his chest pressed tightly into her own, and her hands sending soothing chakra to the bleeding welts on his back, Sakura pulls away from his mouth and confesses.

"Sasuke, I…"

Sasuke kisses a saltine droplet, urging her to continue. He thinks of the million things she might be trying to say—"We can't do this. My boyfriend will find out. I don't really love you. What will my family think?"

Instead, she says, "I can't have children. I'm barren."