This is just a scene I wrote because I wanted to. Pretty much just porn without plot.
He was playing with her.
He did this sometimes- soundlessly enter and wait for her to realize he was there. He used to surprise her every time, but this time she decided to wait for him to realize she knew.
He watched her as she sat cross-legged and hunched over her modest chabudai writing something- perhaps a report or letter- with her habitual cup of tea while sparing the occasional, sleepless glance out the large open window. He had almost tried entering through that window just for the challenge, but the moon was full and at its current arc shone directly into her small studio. The warmth of the season allowed her to wear a short, sleeveless, hydrangea-blue nightgown. His eyes meandered along the white lace trim- down and across her back then up and over her thighs. A sultry gust of night air strayed in and gently tousled her loose hair, granting him a peek at the sensitive spot between her shoulder blades. The lone lamplight draped soft, sensual shadows over her form and something familiar sparked within him.
She knew he was behind her standing by the door. She knew he blissfully thought he was still clever enough to get away with startling her. And she wanted to spoil his fun for all the times he had done so. The only question now was how long it would take him to figure it out he was wrong. A restless sigh escaped her lungs as she began idly scribbling on a fresh sheet of unlined paper: first the syllabaries in print, then in cursive, then her name and address, and then finally, The quick, brown fox jumped over… She smiled deviously to herself. Maybe she could make a different sort of game out of this? The temperature was rather hot, so she reached across the back of her neck to slowly pull her hair forward over her shoulder while tilting her head.
Her exposed neck glowed in the lamplight: feminine, pristine, almost begging to be touched. He could imagine her blood just under the surface, imagine it pulsing under his lips. He watched, mesmerized, as she tipped forward and dropped her shoulders ever so slightly. She folded her legs underneath her to the left while her weight shifted to her right hip. The lacy hem of her nightgown inched up her thigh as her lower back curved in a seemingly unwitting invitation.
At the thought of the pale flesh hidden just under her nightgown, he bit his tongue. She briefly shuffled her papers and absentmindedly stretched out her left hand to hover a centimeter over the teacup. Her fingers curled just around the cylinder, ready to grasp it, but they never did. Only one finger gracefully traced up and down the stiff porcelain, the motion facilitated by the elegant swivel of her wrist. The drink must have gone cold, because instead of taking hold of it, she brought her elbow back down on the table and leisurely rested her chin in her palm. Her shoulder blade folded out to subtly accent the bare, tender spot just beside it.
She was playing with him.
In one swift motion he cast aside his cloak and enveloped her, kneeling behind her and pulling her between his legs and into his chest. Spreading his fingers over her inner thigh and under her nightgown, he discovered an amusing absence of any accompanying attire. Almost as if she had known to expect him. His mouth hovered just over the translucent skin of her neck, just close enough for him to feel it pucker under his breath.
"Ngh..!" She sharply exhaled when he finally pressed his lips to her wanting neck, the quiet smacking of his kisses absolutely blissful. Her breasts heaved as her nipples grew taught and rubbed against the thin cotton. She could feel him, fully erect against her lower back, and her mouth curled into a self-satisfied smile. Having every reason to, she lifted her nightgown over her head and discarded it to the side.
The wooden table creaked as he lifted her onto her knees and bent her forward into to a position where he could easily access the center of her back. He caressed it with a union of wanton kisses and heavy breaths. She felt him grinning into her back as her hand reached out to grip the edge of the table. The small stack of papers spread out like cards as she writhed beneath him.
A cool rush of air swept over her back as he pulled away and she heard him rustling his clothes off. She took the opportunity to shove the papers off the desk- peeling off a stubborn page that stuck to her skin- and switched off the lamp. The full moon's light flooded the room, casting on them a soothing white-gold.
She made to turn and face him, but he caught her with his hands on her hips. With her stilled, he stroked one hand up her waist while he brought his hips flush against hers. She felt the full length of his shaft between her legs, teasing along her folds. Her walls clenched and throbbed in a sudden, acute emptiness. A small whine escaped her throat and she tilted her pelvis down and pressed herself back into him, slowly rocking, trying to coax him in.
The vocalization of her need rang dulcet in his ears and lingered in his chest. This was what he wanted: for her to ask for him, plead for him with her subtle, delicate body language that exclusively he felt and understood. Perhaps he could have tormented her longer, manipulated their arousal more, but as he savored her wetness on his shaft, he decided it could wait for a different time. One hand moved from the curve of her waist to the center of her back and pressed her down to the table again. He kept it there, holding her in place just firmly enough to say that, for this moment, he dominated her.
Two airy, almost imperceptible moans echoed each other as he filled her in one steady motion. He stayed still, completely inside her, while she pulsed around him, excited to finally hold him again.
She bit her swollen lip. Pleasure radiated through her core as he stretched her so perfectly like he always did. She loved to wrap herself around him and feel his hardened length resist her tightness. But all too quickly she wanted more, wanted what she knew he could give her. She gently squirmed her hips and thighs and gave a low, warm hum.
Proud of himself, he began to thrust. Languidly at first, as if taking his time to decide exactly how he wanted to work her body. His rhythm naturally rippled through her and her abdominal muscles undulated as a burning tension built up within her core. When her breaths turned to slow pants, he began to thrust harder. The silky feel of her enticed him to take more and more, to shamelessly indulge in the extasy they created.
She closed her eyes at the sound of his groan, wanting nothing but to take him in. "Ah…" She did not realize she made a noise as she focused solely on the breadth of him stretching her open, on his head stroking along her walls, on how he shifted his angle to touch a particular spot, on how deep inside he reached, on the increasing force of his thrusts, on exactly how hard he was at any given second. All while preening that she did this to him, that she elicited this desire from him, and that she gave him this pleasure. She felt him become just a bit harder and thicker, his thrusts a bit more errant. She held him tighter in response.
Quickly becoming overwhelmed, he moved his hand from her back to slap it on the table, bending forward and partially bracing his weight with his arm. After a few more desperate thrusts, he released himself deep inside her with one final snap of his hips and a low, shuddering moan. A wave of ecstasy ignited through his body and he let the sensation wash over him, reveling in what she had given him.
For a few more seconds while still hard, he stayed inside of her. He leaned forward and shifted his weight to his forearms on either side of her. The heaving of her chest gently nudged his forehead while he rested it on her back, his balmy panting tickling the sensitive skin. As he became soft, he tenderly pressed a kiss to her spine before pulling out.
He moved to sit back and allow her to lift herself from the table if she wished. After a few seconds of reverie, she did. She maneuvered to kneel between his legs, then brought her face close to his and her hand to cradle his cheek, at last able to meet his gaze. Their faces both flushed, breath mingling then dispersing into the summer night air.
They kissed.
"I missed you, Itachi."
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back to lie with him on the floor. He interlaced his fingers through her hair as she buried herself in his chest. She held onto his shoulder and soothingly ran her thumb over his collar bone. He adored when she listened to his heartbeat, that it comforted her so. "I missed you, too, Asaya."
An ache had been smoldering inside them, unable to ignite without the other. Now it caught fire and they rested together, alight in the afterglow.
Just going to say that it was incredibly tempting to trick everyone at the end by either omitting names entirely or turning it into a Sasu/Saku pairing at the last possible second. The alternate title being "What's in a Name?"
I was in a bit of a rush to get this out tonight, so I may come back and clean it up later this weekend.