Man, you all have been so patient with me! I am so grateful to all the followers, reviewers, and casual stalkers that this story has amassed. So, I think we all deserve a little break (except for me because this story clearly is not going to write itself). It's LEMON time. So this is where it gets a little bit more M rated. Enjoy my lovelies! xo
But there's nothing cool going on with me right now. My palms are sweaty, my knees are weak. I force myself to start talking.
"Sasuke, I want everything to be okay between us. Things have been going really well and we're talking to each other, which has been amazing. I don't want something as silly and stupid as this to come between us. It's not that big of a deal and it's not worth it to stop talking to each other because of it. I'm tired of the awkwardness between us," And I realize as I say it that this doesn't just have to do with what happened in the kitchen, "Things are going to happen and stuff is going to come up when two people are practically living, eating, and sleeping on top of each other."
I try not to cringe as I process what I've just said; poor choice of words. Now the image is stuck in my head.
"You're right, Sakura," he stands slowly and inches towards me, "Things are going to come up."
Is he baiting me? I eye him cautiously as he comes closer and press my back against the wall.
"Maybe things you haven't thought about in years," he stops just before me, close enough and yet far enough at the same time.
"And things are going to come up that might not really be there," I drop my gaze before lifting it again. My rebuffed pride wants me to drag the kitchen incident out into the open to embarrass him like he's embarrassed me throughout our adolescence. Sasuke tilts his head in a subdued gesture of confusion, "Maybe you're imagining things."
His jaw locks for a moment as he looks at me with a meditated stoicism only Sasuke could master.
"I think I need a shower," he backs away and pulls the neckline of his shirt until the fabric lifts up and over his head.
"Okay, I'll call a guard to look after you," I start to turn towards the door but Sasuke stops me.
"I need your help," behind that impassive gaze, a small smirk starts to curve his lips. If he actually needed my help, he wouldn't look like that while admitting it.
"Fine," I can rise to the challenge, I assure myself, leading the way to the bathroom. I can hold out, he's just trying to push my buttons.
I turn to face the wall, letting Sasuke get comfortable, and try to shake off that same feeling I got the first time I bathed him. If I had a flower for every time I've questioned my sanity, my morality, since Sasuke's arrival I could plant myself a damned garden.
"Ready?"
"Yes."
I walk to the shower head, switching it on and testing the water before I run it first through Sasuke's hair. Even with the water I can tell how greasy it is.
"Have you actually been bathing yourself or have you just been pretending to?"
"I do what I can," he says, following my fingers' instructions to tilt his head back.
"Is it still painful to lift your arm?"
"Not as much now."
"Good. Has it started itching?" I massage shampoo throughout his hair, taking longer than usual for more than one reason. I hate to admit it, but I like the feel of my fingers running through his hair. There's something pleasantly, intimately domestic about it. I've never thought of myself as the person to be domestic, to settle down.
"Yes, badly."
"That's good, as long as you don't scratch it, that means it's healing."
I rinse his hair and come around to his front, almost dropping the shower head when I notice he's not holding a towel over his waist. My eyes snap up as quickly as they dropped down; I force my gaze to chest. I can't kneel down, that's too close. Fuck. He's just trying to get a rise out of me. It's fine, I can be professional. Instead I bend over to get a closer look at his scar. I haven't inspected it recently anyways. Good, some of the stitches have started to fall out. I place a few fingers along the stitching, applying a little pressure.
"Does that hurt?"
"A little, but it's dull."
"That's great. Sasuke, you're making an incredibly fast recovery," I beam. He smirks, but the longer I keep my fingers on him, even without the pressure, the more his muscles tense.
I stand up straight and move to the side so I'm not at such an awkward angle as I take a washcloth over his shoulders and alongside his arms. Without turning his head, he's not able to see where my gaze is or notice the fact that it keeps slipping to the unclothed area below his waist. Keep it together. I'm almost done.
I finish his right side and extend the washcloth and shower head to him.
"You can handle the rest, right?"
His face is impassive as he takes both items out of my hands, then flips the shower head around and sprays me head to toe. I squeal and put my hands up in defense but he only stops when a guard pounds on the door.
"Is everything all right in there?"
I shoot Sasuke a glare and he returns it with a defiant smirk. With squelching footsteps, I stomp over to the door, ringing my shirt out in the process, though it doesn't seem to do much good. I calmly pull the door open and watch as the humor crosses over the guard's face.
"Is everything all right in here?" she repeats.
"Everything's fine, I slipped," I shrug my shoulders and close the door before she gives me a look of disbelief. I whip around to yell at Sasuke, but the words are lost between what little space he's left between us, "Fucking - baka."
"Sakura," his lips are curved upwards in a distrustful, cheshire grin.
"What?" I suck my bottom lip in, trying to keep my focus on anything other than what lays below his neck.
"I like you like this," I feel his fingers inch up the drenched material of my shirt that clings to my stomach. His eyes are dark, hooded. I inhale deeply, pulling my abdomen back, away from the heat of his hand, but he doesn't let me get far. His arms stretch out to either side of my waist, his chest presses against mine. Then, all manor of humor leaves his face as he leans in to whisper in my ear, "Flushed and dripping wet."
My knees go weak at the sound of his husky voice and the feel of his breath against my skin; I actually feel myself drop a couple inches lower on the wall so I reach out to grip his arms for support. It feels so good to touch him. I feel his breath lower to the base of my neck and freeze when it's replaced by the weight of his lips pressing into my skin. His teeth graze against my skin ever so lightly as his thigh slips between my legs. I tilt my head to the side, allowing him further access.
He takes it.
One hand yanks the strap of my top and bra down far enough for his tongue and teeth to trace an unobstructed path along my shoulder to my chest while the other keeps a steady hold on my neck. When his teeth hit a particularly sensitive spot on my clavicle, an unbridled moan escapes me. It surprises me, but not as much as the reality that I'm too turned on to care. I can feel an aching throbbing that starts between my thighs and resonates outward.
Sasuke pulls himself away, but only so far as my hold on his arms will let him. He can't leave me like this, it's not fair. My skin is aflame with desire and all inhibitions have long since flown out the window. I have to have him now. He tugs me away from the door, locks it, and pushes me against the partition that juts out from the wall, blocking the shower.
I don't wait for him to make the first move and slide down the wall until I'm on my knees, taking him with me. I push back on his chest with enough force so that he lays against the still wet tile of the floor. For a moment, I admire his rigid dick, running my fingers along his thick length and feeling the way he twitches in my palm. Then, I extend my tongue to coat him base to tip, taking extra time to circle around the head and briefly take him in my mouth. His sharp inhale, the hiss of his breath, spurs me on to take him deeper in my mouth.
I thought maybe I'd tease him, impress him, use some finesse. But I can't. I need him right now. I don't know if I'll ever get a chance like this again, I have to have him.
"Fuck," his hands fist in my hair, urging me to go deeper. His voice is darker than I've ever heard it before, lust-filled, thirsty. It's intoxicating, "Sakura."
If he says my name like that again, I'm sure I'll have to throw these panties out. I pull him almost all the way out of my mouth to circle my tongue around and wrap my fingers around the base to pump up and down. His grip tightens, but I manage to peer up and catch him looking down at me with those captivating black eyes. I make sure to keep his gaze for as long as possible as I push the rest of him down my throat. With one hand on his lower abdomen and the other at his thigh, I feel him tense before he comes in my mouth. I pull him out of my mouth and with some sick satisfaction I take great care to swallow it all.
I sit back against the partition and watch with a smirk as Sasuke's breathing returns to normal and he's able to push himself into a sitting position. Our eyes lock for a moment and that throbbing ache returns. I want him to fuck me. I want him to fill me in some way, to touch me. He runs a thumb over his bottom lip, then takes a hold of my ankles pulling them apart.
A knowing smirk besets his features; he doesn't have to say a word. It's my turn.
