Death By Your Love

by RedGobletOfRoses

We follow Tsuki's journey to find her faced with a whole new set of challenges and heart breaks. Her story begins to unfold as she endures the dangers of belonging to a village, as an outcast. Orochimaru searches on for her, and the Akatsuki's plans become more apparent. With Sasuke as a new threat, she walks on eggshells through these troubled times. M for Content and Language

12. Stage 12 An Oath of Pain

Stage 12: An Oath of Pain

Tsuki looked up at her captor as he extended his hand to her, as she was still crouched. She took it cautiously, rising to her full height. He released her hand and walked to the front door of a building that looked like every other structure in Amegakure. She followed him into the foyer, watching the water drip from his long hair, soaking his cloak, and lingering on his skin.

They walked up countless flights of stairs into a large penthouse. She took her shoes off and hung her drenched outerwear. What little water remaining was effortlessly whisked away.

He was right behind her when she stepped inside. "Welcome home, Princess," he whispered into her ear. She looked around, absorbing his home's secrets. The layout was traditional, though the décor was anything but. It had an industrial feel, the walls and floors in varying shades of grey. The impressionalist paintings and photos gave the apartment a haunting look. There were reds thrown sparsely; the upholstery of a chair in a corner, a glass sculpture on the mantle, a splatter of paint in a painting. Blacks were just as sparing. It was cold to her, with bursts of warm fire.

Pein walked into the hallway, beckoning for her to follow. Leading her into the darkness, he passed one, two, three doors. He came to the end of the hallway. Turning around to face her, he opened his arms, gesturing to the two doors beside him. "To your left is my bedroom. No matter what hour or reason, my door is open to you. Do not hesitate to come to me for anything." He now motioned to the door on her right. "This will be your room for the duration of your stay." The door slid open on its tracks. He allowed her to pass over the threshold, turning the light on as she took in her surroundings.

Hearing the door slide shut behind her, she knew he was still standing right behind her. She could hear his breathing, his steady heart beat. In enclosed quarters, his scent wafted toward her as he walked to stand at her side.

The room was very similar in style to the living room; the mottled hues of silver and grey were interrupted with harsh reds and dominate blacks. The bed was moderately sized, and the closet was agreeable, if she had clothing to put in it.

Almost as though he read her mind, he urged her to look inside. When she opened the door, there was an entire wardrobe of new clothing for her, everything black. Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand the hidden meaning of the gesture. When she failed, she finally asked, "Why?"

Keeping with his six foot distance radius with her, he appeared over her shoulder. "I choose to see you as an investment, Princess. You are not my prisoner, but a companion. You should be made as comfortable as possible."

Everything he had said or done up to that point suggested that this had been planned out for quite some time. She was always meant to be turned over to him, whether it was now, or if she had stayed there three years ago. There was no way around it, he was prepared for her. He was the one she was meant to be attached to. Everything else had just been a rouse to distract her. It felt as though she were dancing around on a chess board.

He watched her as she ran her fingers over the fabrics. "I can imagine you're itching to get out of those clothes," he suggested. "If you would like, the shower is the door next to yours." He bowed out of the bedroom, leaving her in solitude.

There she stood, watching him retreat before considering his offer. A hot shower after sweating in the rain sounded wonderful. She pulled the various garments out, looking at them before making her selections. His choices were eerily accurate to her style. It made her speculate how much he knew about her. She grabbed the handful of articles and walked up the hall.

She found the bathroom adequately stocked as well. The level of their knowledge of her habits was alarming. He had her shampoos, body washes, lotions, and make up products lined up for her. It made her skin crawl. She had used the same line of products since she was fourteen, but to see them all before her made her feel violated.

Setting the clothing on the counter, she looked around. There, on the rack were two towels. They were both completely dry and fluffy, indicating they were clean. Then she turned her attentions to the tap, When the water started to produce steam, she stripped down. Stepping into the shallow basin, she felt as though she were standing on a bed of frozen knives until the water warmed her feet.

It wasn't long before the steam had effectively worked out the stress harboured in her muscles. Bubbles circled the drain, adding their scents to the mixture. After thoroughly cleansing her body, she stayed in longer, to cleanse her mind. There was a calming sense that overwhelmed her when she meditated under the spray of the water. Sitting on the floor of the shower, she crossed herself, allowing the water to flow over her freely.

Twenty minutes passed by before she felt refreshed enough to discontinue. Rising to her feet, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She reached for a towel, allowing the water to drip onto the rug beneath her feet.

Dressed and preened with hair still dripping, she stepped into the hallway. Immediately her nose was assaulted with the scents of curry, causing her stomach to growl. The steam in the bath room had prevented the smell from permeating. She followed her nose to the kitchen, where he was putting the finishing garnishes on their plates. He turned to her just as she entered. "Feeling better?" he asked.

She nodded with hesitation, suspicious of his motives. Honour bound, she thanked him for providing the amenities for her enjoyment. He offered her a courteous smile in response. He brought their plates to the dining room table and set them down, where two chai milk teas waited. He sat her next to him, directly to his left.

He had prepared her favourite meal. Her mind raced as she tried to understand how he knew so much about her. She was truly afraid of how much he knew. It was possible he was just trying to make her feel more at home, but she felt like this was all a part of a sinister plan.

They muttered their itadakimasu before respectfully eating in silence. His eyes would almost constantly glance in her direction, and hers mirrored his just as often. Periodically, she would sip her tea. Try as she might to restrain herself, she could not deny that he was a good cook. Not many knew she had a fondness for Indian foods. She accredited him with that. She recalled a conversation with Hidan a long time ago regarding it, and thought that perhaps that was how he knew. She wouldn't put it past Hidan to remember something so insignificant.

When she was done, she laid her chopsticks down in front of her plate. He finished shortly after. The light caught his piercings as he rose to collect their plates. Before turning his back to her, he flashed a half smile. When he came back, he held two sticks of sugar dumplings, one of them was hers.

The rest of the day passed by in much a similar fashion. He would engage her in light conversation, refraining from arguments. He expertly avoided her aggression, refusing to allow her to become even slightly annoyed with him. If she threatened to tip the scales in that direction, he would distract her with a question, a trivial comment, or a walk through the rain, as they were on now.

Dusk had long since settled on them, and the streets were empty. She wanted to be angry with him, to push him as far away from her as possible, to hate him. He refused to allow it. It was difficult for her to maintain rage.

She was torn from her mental qualm by his finger brushing along her jawline. "Your thoughts are carrying you to unwanted places," he observed.

Their footsteps fell as she maintained her silence. He couldn't even let her be silently frustrated with him. Try as she might, he was a step ahead of her. She rolled her eyes at him. "How long is the sealing going to take?" she inquired.

He casually arched an eyebrow. "It will take three days after the entire organization departs, and their return will take longer for some based on their location."

"You mean they're not all in the same spot?" The revelation took her off guard.

He shook his head. "That would be too risky, especially since your Hokage, as well as the Kazekage knows where the extractions take place." He glanced over at her. Her head was bowed against the rain, hidden behind her hat. "Are you already so bored with me?" he asked.

The injury in his voice nearly made her cringe. "I'm neither bored, nor thrilled about you. You're another warden to my prison." She was very determined to see him that way, no matter how hard he tried to convince her otherwise.

He sighed heavily. "Why do you continue to view this as a sentence?" The exasperation was thick in his voice. "You have committed no crime. We simply require your abilities, and admire your talents for what they're worth."

Turning her head to openly glare at him, she mockingly laughed at him. "And kidnapping me is your way of asking me for help?"she countered.

"We're criminals, Princess; did you honestly expect better?" He smirked at her playfully.

She growled deep in her throat.

Pein decided it was time she knew. "If you had stayed in Konohagakure during the Chunin Exams, Itachi would have explained everything; he had no idea Hidan was in Suna. You would have been given a choice. It wasn't intended for Hidan to intercept you; he was scouting Suna for other reasons. Hidan just knew we needed you, and needed you alive. It was he who decided you shouldn't be left to choose."

"You claim I have a choice," she commented, "Yet you continue to hunt me down." She kept pace with him, though each foot fall sounded as though she were prepared to sprint from him with as much power as her body contained.

His intentions were to calm her down, yet he could feel the anger rolling off her. "You continue to run away from us," he answered softly. "Each time you leave, you take with you valuable information that could destroy us."

If in his position, she would be forced to do the same. She hated how rational he was. They walked together in relative silence as she thought about her situation, and his motives.

Glancing at him, she realized she could ask him anything, and if she was ever to get answers, it would be from this man. He wanted so much for her to open up to him. Would he be willing to sacrifice information to achieve that goal?

He was staring right at her, ready to pull her from her thoughts if he felt he had to. When her eyes met his, he tentatively smiled. Her expression concerned him, but it wasn't quite the anger or annoyance he was fending off. He didn't have to wait long to know what was on her mind.

"What do you intend to achieve with the Akatsuki?" she asked.

He genuinely smiled. "Now you're asking the right questions." He set out on a verbal escapade, telling her the story of Pein, the Deva Path. It was a story of hardship war, famine, and death. He had grown up an orphan, trapped in a shinobi war. He painted a picture of the darkness she knew all too well of the civilian casualties of war. He then explained his views on the greed of the great nations and the power they held; a threat to any hope of lasting peace. They turned a corner together, and he finished his story. "We are building a revolution," he stated, "So that out war might be the last."

She forced herself to keep eye contact. She could see his hope, feel his passion for their cause. Though she tried, her mind couldn't find a flaw in his plan, other than if she gave in to him, she would betray Neji and everything he had done for her. "I can't agree to join you," she declared. "For the last three years, I have worked on becoming accepted in my village. Also, I have a debt to Neji that I cannot go back on. He has risked everything to help me." Her voice was fortified with her conviction.

His eyes narrowed. "I understand your dilemma."

"However," she continued, "I think your vision sounds beautiful. We will have to come to war eventually. If that war could be our last, it would be wonderful." The lie was heavy on her tongue; she knew all too well that the nature of man was a violent one. There was no way they could put a stop to the wars. Her heart ached. She thought of Neji, and what he would do if he heard the conversation she was having. Shame flooded her.

Pein looked at her with hope. "You said you won't join us, Tsuki. Would you willingly help us?"

They had reached his front door again, which he opened and held for her. The request was heavy on her mind as she entered. "What you ask of me is treason," she stated. Her words were sharp against her tongue. "If I don't agree, you'll force me to do it, against my will. I already know that. Agreeing would make my life so much easier."

Taking her cloak and hanging it, he assured her, "You wouldn't have to be afraid of us anymore. You never should have had to fear us to begin with. All we want is peace, and that peace would have to start with you."

She felt cornered, pressured, and confused. "I don't even know what I would be agreeing to," she confessed. She set her shoes down before stepping onto the grey tile of his foyer.

He took her hand in his as they meandered into the living room. "I can't tell you unless you agree, and bind that oath in blood." His eyes pleaded with her to understand. "Your actions would change the world, for the better. There would be no more to suffer as you have, as the Deva Path did."

She sighed, resigning. "As I said, I guess I have no choice."

Pein released her to sit in a crimson chair. He leaned over to the end table on his right, turning on the glass shaded lamp. Tsuki took the opportunity to look around once more, taking in the smaller details she had missed before, such as the fireplace with a steel mantle, a bronze dragon beside it, and a painting on the partition wall that hid the entry way. Other than the modern expressionism motif, there was very little to clue her in to who he was as a person.

She was trying to interpret a painting when he broke the silence. "It pleases me to see you take in my home," he stated.

Violet eyes shifted back to him. "I'm glad it amuses you."

He sprawled back in his chair and glanced to the painting. "What were you thinking about?" He wanted to get inside her mind, to see if art brought a memory, or an emotion forward that exposed something about her.

She slouched against the couch cushions. "I was observing," she answered, drawing his eyes back to her. "There really wasn't a mental commentary. Though, I guess, to answer your question I was thinking of azaleas."

He looked back at the canvas. Sure enough, now that she mentioned the flower, the splotch of red morphed in his mind's eye to resemble the bloom. He knew better than to continue the conversation. He rose to his feet, prying himself from the armchair. Her eyes followed him, though her body did not. He rustled in the other room, and the soft chink of glass suggested he was in the kitchen. He returned clutching two glasses half filled with a dark liquid on ice. "Whiskey," he informed her when her eyes expressed curiosity. He raised a glass before passing it to her.

She accepted, curious about the strange liquor. "What's the occasion?" she asked.

"Who needs an occasion?" he jested.

She eyed the alcohol cautiously. Memories flooded her mind of both Orochimaru and Itachi, filling her with torment and regrets. Pein brought her back to reality. "Are you all right?" There was genuine concern etched into his eyes.

Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a sip. The burn of the alcohol startled her; it was like nothing she had experienced before. When it hit her stomach, she was filled with a wave of warmth. He took a considerably larger pull from his tumbler. "You're not a whiskey person, are you?" he accused jokingly.

"I've never had anything stronger than sake or wine," she confessed. She switched positions on the couch, making herself more comfortable.

He chuckled. "Then I advise you drink slowly, and you're cut off after that glass." he took another, smaller sip. "My goal was to help you sleep, since you have troubles with insomnia in new environments. I don't need you belligerently drunk."

She looked at him quizzically, still perturbed by the quality of his knowledge of her. Every man who handed her alcohol had wanted her belligerently drunk. What made him different? And what business of his was her insomnia? Once more, she felt creeped out that he knew far more about her than he should. "If you insist," she appeased. There was still a hint of cynicism in her voice, which he noticed.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked. He set his tumbler down on the side table. "You don't have to be so cautious around me. You have already agreed to help us. There's nothing more for me to gain from your intoxication."

No matter what he said, she would never allow herself to believe him. She pulled a kunai from her pouch and twirled it into her palm. He eyed her with edged inquiry. "You said we have an oath to make," she stated. She threw the blade at him, aiming right between the eyes. He caught it between two fingers before it lodged into his pierced forehead. She glared at him intensely. "I have my terms," she growled.

He smirked at her. "Of course you do, Princess. What would they be?" He slid from his chair to join her on the couch.

"All I want is safety," she answered. "Promise that you and your men won't harm my village or my comrades."

He drew the knife across his palm. "I guarantee it, so long as when we call for you, you comply. I need you to give me your chakra, your powers, and your physical abilities. Your mind, body and soul must be lent to me." He handed her the kunai, still dripping with his warm blood. She drew it across her hand, opening a wound. She looked at him, not sure what to do next. "I promise that you and your village will remain intact and whole. You will be free to go upon the completion of the mission, should that be what you choose."

"I can agree to that," he cautiously sighed.

He held out his hand, palm up to contain the blood. "Your hand, Princess," he requested. She obliged, and he pressed his wound against hers. Their blood mingled together. Pein fed his chakra through their wounds. She followed suit, feeding him her own life force energy. Her unique chakra turned their hands a pale purple. Their wounds began to heal, trapping the other's blood and chakra within their flesh. With every beat of her heart, she will pulse with his blood. She had successfully bought Neji's safety, and that was worth a sigh of relief.

Pein looked deep into her eyes. "Your chakra is unlike anything I've ever felt," he commented, allowing his fingers to lace through hers.

With her free hand, she grabbed her drink and sipped. "The product of my father's kekkei genkai and many years of genetic experimentation," she explained.

He took a sip of his own drink, smirking. "It will always be with me, just as mine will flow through you." He caressed her fingers softly before letting go.

She chanced a healthy pull off the amber whiskey. Her stomach swelled in protest, but the queasy feeling was soon replaced with warmth. A warm flush tinged her cheeks in the minutes to follow. Pein pulled the tie from his hair, allowing it to cascade around his shoulders.

"I wasn't joking," he warned, "You really shouldn't drink that so quickly. I intend to get quite inebriated, and will be unable to tend to you if you get ill."

A quizzical gaze was passed to him. "What reason do you have to drink yourself useless?" she asked.

The following smirk took on a rakish air. "I won't be entirely useless, I assure you." He sipped from his glass without breaking eye contact with her, watching the blush rise further into her cheeks. He winked at her, furthering her embarrassment.

"You're ridiculous," she accused, quickly looking away from him. He shrugged in response, then drained the rest of his drink. With glass in hand, he retreated into the kitchen, only to return with the decanter in hand. She eyed the liquid with discretion.

He wagged a finger at her, the rest of his hand occupied with his refilled tumbler. "You have already been cut off," he chastised. "I meant it." She giggled girlishly, which caught her off guard. He could visibly see the surprise at her response. "That's exactly why; you're already drunk," he chuckled. He shut down her protests, and as soon as her drink was finished it was replaced with sparkling water. He insisted it was to ward off a hangover the next morning.

He sat down on the couch next to her, setting the decanter on the coffee table before them. Leaning back, his arms spread over the back of the couch as he angled himself to face her. She shifted in response, bringing one foot under herself as she turned to face him better. In her drunken state, she leaned over to rest her head on the couch, just mere inches away from his fingertips. The desire to caress her cheek overcame him.

"I'm not that drunk," she declared. "I've been much, much worse."

His eyebrow arched. "Your words are slurring, there's a blush in your cheeks, and for the first time in three years, I've heard you giggle first hand." He ran a knuckle down her cheek, deciding to act upon his whim. "I think you're quite drunk."

Going against everything he knew about her, she didn't flinch away from his touch, she leaned into it. "Quite drunk indeed," he muttered.

Her head screamed for her to pull away from him, but her body wasn't listening. His hands were warm, and the scent of his skin melted what little common sense she had left. Wine and sake had never hit her this hard. She decided she didn't quite like whiskey; it made her lose control of herself.

Sipping her sparkling water, she watched him from the corner of her eye. He was still smirking at her. A gust of wind picked up outside, and she felt a shiver creep through her body. Perhaps it was the chill, perhaps it was the absence of the liquor. He withdrew from her, setting his glass down. He rose to his feet and sauntered to the fireplace, a slight lightness in his step she assumed was due to his intoxication. Taking advantage of his distraction while he crouched to light a fire, she took his drink and sipped from it. Once more, she felt the warmth of the alcohol infiltrate her system. She had set the glass down before he turned back, flames roaring in the hearth. She felt the delay in her reactions. It was hard for her to completely focus on him.

He returned to her. He picked his drink up off the glass table top, and swirled it around in the tumbler. When he looked at her the blush had deepened. He sipped his drink and set it down before sitting with her on the couch, a lot closer to her than he had been previously. He had allowed a mere five centimetres between them before he resumed his position, arms stretched out across the back of the couch. The drink was brought to his parted lips.

His eyes met hers. "If there's ever anything you need to be comfortable, just let me know," he whispered. Once more he caressed her, this time on her bare shoulder. He watched gooseflesh rise in the trail of his touch, bringing him a swelling of pride.

It wasn't long before he had coaxed her into his arms with her head on his shoulder. The more they talked, the lower her guard dropped. He had promised to not allow harm to come to her, and that was a promise he intended to keep.

She wound her arms around him, the alcohol making her forget about her self imposed restrictions. She could feel the raised points across his collarbone, hinting that his piercings continued down his body. The red tinge deepened in her cheeks as she pondered just how far they went.

The change in her colour piqued his interest. It didn't take him long to figure out where her thoughts had brought her; she was absentmindedly tracing the outlines of his chest rivets. Her dainty fingers flitted from one to the other, exploring down the his muscular torso in search of more. It was at the level of his navel that she hesitated.

Gazing fondly at her, he was amused that this famed seductress was overcome with shy reservation. "Why stop there, Princess?" he inquired. "Your touch is enjoyable." Her eyes flashed to his, revealing caution and the remnants of anger. A moment was allowed for her to catch herself, and when she didn't, he intervened. Softly, he caressed her hand before lacing his fingers through her own. He brought them to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly.

"You're defensive," he verbally observed. "I promise you, my dear, you are in control. I'm not going to ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with." It was rewarding to see her muscles relax. He released her hand, reaching for his tumbler. She had to shift out of his way momentarily, only to be welcomed back into his arms. The glass was pressed into her hands.

Amber whiskey filled her with warmth once more. To his alarm, she drained the contents. The burn coursed through her, growing hotter with every pulse in her veins. Once her attentions were returned to him, he relaxed. She wasn't going to be sick. He could see it in her eyes. Once more, she focused on the ornamentation of his chest. It would be up to him to bring her to the next level.

With a sigh, he shifted under her. She arched away from him slightly, giving him enough room to move. He pulled his shirt off, discarding it in a corner of the room to be forgotten. Her eyes widened at his boldness. Taking her hand, he eased her back to him. She looked him over, her eyes lingering on every pinnacle of metal that protruded from his skin. They trailed down his arms and torso, disappearing under the hem of his pants, roughly ten centimetres apart. Yet again, she caved into the temptation to touch. Her fingers trailed from his wrist to his shoulder slowly, savouring the feel of him.

Rinnegan eyes closed in demure pleasure, a satisfied sigh escaped his lips. Tender fingertips traced the lines of his neck, along his jaw, and back to his shoulders. A subtle groan came from deep within him. She wandered her attentions down his collarbone. She wanted terribly to taste his skin, and once more, her blush deepened to an embarrassing level. Her body was betraying her. It had been so long since she had felt the pleasures of a man. It was obvious he would oblige her.

She passed over the ridges to his pectorals, focusing on his dusky nipple. The groan she received was marginally louder, rougher, and carried notes of surprise. He kept his eyes closed, choosing to remain oblivious to her motions. It was satisfying to evoke sensual reactions from him. How it pleased her to know she could still ignite the fire of a man.

He tilted his head to the side, covering her hand with his loose hair. The tresses were soft, and she couldn't help but run her fingers through the fine strands. A shallow breath hitched in his chest as she lightly pulled the tendrils.

Another pass through his long, silky hair had his hands balled into fists in an attempt to keep his promise: he wasn't going to dominate her. There was nothing he wanted more than to turn the tables, to show her that she wasn't the only one well versed in the sensual arts. "Your seduction could be certified torture," he heavily breathed with a devilish grin. He looked deep into her eyes with lust.

Pride welled in her chest at the praise. Her head was foggy, and the pleasure of his approval motivated her further. She straddled his lap, pulling herself to him. She could already feel her loins becoming wet. Bracing herself against his chest, she felt his hard muscles under her palms. Chasing desire, he wrapped his arms around her. They moved together as one, both wanting the same thing. Her lips brushed against his lightly before she hesitated. His parted in reaction, disappointed in her withdraw. "Such a tease," he chastised. A tilt of his head closed the distance between them.

He deepened the kiss, parting her lips to bite her tenderly, holding her face in his hands. She drank in the taste of his lips, thick with bitter whiskey. Their tongues brushed against each other. She was not surprised to find the taste of metal in her mouth. A gentle bite caught the tongue ring between her teeth, allowing her to gently suckle on him.

Surrendering control, he allowed her total freedom to do with him as she wished. They danced with each other in a display of passion. Gently, his hands swept over her body, caressing her softly in places, gripping her against him powerfully at times. He found himself thinking he would kill a dozen men to experience another kiss like this one.

A gasp escaped him as her nails dug into his skin. Slowly, she tore into him, threading his chest piercings between her fingers as she clawed down his chest. In several places, he could feel blood welling up to the surface. Reflexively, he held her down as she scratched him. His loins tightened against her.

The moment her assault ended, he broke the kiss and buried himself in her neck. Her scent was rich on his palate. She moaned softly as his teeth gently scraped against her skin. That tiny little sound was not reward enough for him, he wanted more. He bit her, harder than she had ever been bitten before. A moan was caught in her throat as he erased the sound from her. She struggled to hold herself upright as her vision swam before her.

Releasing her flesh from his vice, he caught her hair between his fingers. Clutching her maroon tendrils, he pulled her head back to expose the rest of her soft and tender throat. Hovering less than two centimetres above her skin, he allowed the tension to build. His breathing was enough to drive her mad. He knew she wanted more.

It was time for his free hand to explore the bounty of her curves. Since seeing her, he wanted to feel her full breasts in his hands. The thin black tank top was pushed up, revealing her pale skin to him. Bindings met him, and he quickly tore them off. When he cupped her, she whimpered. He kissed her neck softly, slowly massaging her breast.

She wrapped an arm around his neck and turned to kiss him. His lips met hers, their tongues danced again. Shifting her weight, her hips brushed against him as she moved. Instinctively, he arched, pressing against her with wanton desire. The hardness of his erection caught her off guard. She moved with him in a steady rhythm, breaking the kiss. He brought his hands down to her thighs, kneading her muscles as she pushed against his growing erection.

Without a second thought, he pulled her shirt over her head, releasing her breasts from their confines. They bounced with her movement, captivating his attentions. Once more indulging himself, he felt their weight in his hands, teasing her nipples with his thumbs. She tossed her hair back, arching with the onslaught of sensations. He could not resist nipping and biting her neck once more.

A light kiss surprised him as she rested her chin on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, closing any space between them. She bit into the muscle, listening to the pleasured release of breath. Tracing patterns into her skin, he began scratching her back softly. Like a snake being charmed, she moved to the motions of his hands, grinding against his groin. She continued to attack his neck and shoulder, covering him in bites and red love marks. One of his hands deviated from her back, caressed her tight butt, and slid to her thigh. He pushed her skirt up to her hips, exposing her spandex shorts beneath.

In an instant, she found herself on her back. The shorts were thrown across the room, to join his shirt on the floor. "You have this one chance, Princess. Deny me if you wish," he whispered. His voice was completely at odds with the urgency in his actions, and the look of hunger in his eyes. She debated for a moment, but the burning desire in her loins was overwhelming. To hell with her reservations; she wanted him. It had been years since she's felt the passions of a man. He took another pull of his whiskey, then handed her the glass. She sat up to drink, allowing the warmth to fuel her desire.

Removing the glass from her hands, he pushed her back down. The skirt came off next, leaving her completely exposed to him. Wasting no time, he brought her knees over his shoulders. With expert technique, he began to devour her. As soon as his tongue and the hard metal piercing touched her pearl of pleasure, she moaned deeply. She was already wet for him, and the taste of her drove him wild. She quickly became loud under his ministrations, with each lap of his tongue, she sighed. He would switch between softly licking her clitoris and plunging his tongue deep within her. She loved every moment of it, pushing against him to give him a better angle, allowing him to lick deeper within her.

Pulling out his tongue, he traced a finger along the soft lips of her flesh. She shuddered under his touch, tense and ready to be taken. She moaned softly, a whisper of breath as he inserted a finger, slowly pumping in and out of her. At regular intervals, he would capture her clitoris in a teasing suckle, licking it gently. Another loud moan, and he brought another digit to her entrance. He used fingers on both hands to widen her opening, then licked as deep into her as he possibly could. Cum welled up, satisfying him. Her breathing was ragged as he licked every drop from within her. Another finger within her, pumping steadily, and she would be ready.

She swore he was stretching her too much, until she watched his pants fall to the floor. Now, she wondered if he had stretched her enough. His manhood was swollen, and nearly as long as her forearm. Every few centimetres, he was pierced, six times total. The barbells brought curiosity to her.

Instead of lining up immediately, he ambled to her, swaying a bit with intoxication. "Suck me," he demanded. "It'll only be a moment, I promise." She sat up, and he straddled her, bringing his tip to her lips. The taste of his pre-cum was salty and acidic. His eyes rolled back as she took him into her mouth, forcing as much of his length deep into her throat. The metallic taste of his piercings mixed with the tastes she was already enthralled with. Her hands encircled his shaft, rubbing him as she sucked. Hot and wet, her tongue circled each ball on his piercings, which were extremely sensitive. He groaned, pushing deeper into her. It was her mission to massage him, coax him as close to an orgasm as he would allow. His groans were a powerful turn on to her, causing her to moan around his cock.

After a minute, he pulled out of her mouth, then knelt down to kiss her passionately. She could still taste her distinct flavour on his tongue. Without breaking the kiss, he coaxed her back into a laying position. A single finger caressed her pussy, which had already begun to shrink back to it's tightness. He licked her region again, re-wetting her entrance. She moaned against his oral assault, urging him to continue. Obliging her wishes, he flicked his tongue inside of her, destroying the silence with her sounds.

Pressure was building within him, causing him impatience. Mentally, he chastised himself. Her pleasure was his top priority. He would not stop until she was shuddering and shaking beneath him, unable to take any more.

Lining himself up with her, he slowly pushed the tip of his throbbing cock inside. She arched as he buried himself up to the first piercing, her eyes widened as she moaned. His was the largest she had ever taken. The first piercing slid in, causing her an intense wave of pleasure like she had never known. Her body arched again, pushing down on his dick, causing the second row of piercings to slide inside of her. When he reached the third row, he stopped pushing. He was halfway inside her, and satisfied she was adequately stretched.

Leaning down, he whispered into her ear. "Now would be the time to establish a safe word," he warned her. His hair tickled her breasts as he kissed her deeply, careful not to embed himself deeper. "Any word or phrase will do."

Violet eyes widened as she realized what that meant. "I never would have guessed you liked it rough," she stated. He was such a gentle man, at least to her.

A smirk was her only warning. To prove her wrong, he shoved the last remaining nine centimetres of his dick deep within her. A yelp of pain sounded as the fire popped in the grate. He relentlessly fucked her, fuelled by her yelling, turning from shouts of pain to deep moans of ecstasy. A sudden wave of wet indicated her cuming, and he stopped moving all together. "That safe word, Princess," he requested.

She shook her head. "I can't think of one," she admitted.

He thought for a moment, slowly thrusting in and out of her. Of course, the sounds of her whimpering didn't help him think, but they were a beautiful sound. He glanced down at her, thinking that he was dick deep in a beautiful woman; he had seduced her into becoming his lover. That was it. He had the safe phrase. "Tell me you love me," he stated, "That's our safe phrase."

She hated the idea of it, but it was something she would never say otherwise. She moaned, breathless from his gentle movements. He continued to pulse himself inside of her for a moment at a slow speed. Even in her drunken state, that phrase was revealing. He would torture her until she broke down and claimed to love him.

He pulled out suddenly and pulled her naked body up into his arms. The sudden change in position made her head swim. Watching the apartment flow around her, they made their way down the hall. He pushed his door open, then roughly threw her on his bed. She landed on her back and bounced. The hunger in his eyes alarmed her.

He then grabbed her by the ankles and threw her on all fours, forcing her round butt in the air. Hastily, he licked deep in her pussy, then just to throw her off, started licking her ass. She screamed in response, not sure whether to be disgusted, embarrassed, or moaning in pleasure. The tell tale wetness in her pussy was all he needed to know she loved her ass being eaten. Without even pausing, he shoved his dick inside her tightness, feeling her vaginal walls close around his dick. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back to kiss her forcefully, biting her tongue. When he released her, he brought his hand down to smack her ass with all the force he could muster, the crack echoing off the walls. A guttural moan followed from her. He fucked her, pushing as deep as he could. He smacked her repeatedly, feeling her pussy tighten with every hit. He wasn't satisfied until he could see his hand print emblazoned on her ass. He ripped his cock out of her, hearing another scream of pain.

A menacing chuckle escaped him. She would hold out as long as she possibly could to avoid saying their safe phrase. That was fine with him. The roundness of her ample cheeks called to him. He pulled them apart, exposing her anus. He licked her rim once more, knowing she was turning red with blush as he did. The panting and moaning that came from her was torture, bringing a raging burn to his nether regions. One finger caressed her opening, pushing the tight muscle open.

She cried in resistance, causing him to smirk. "The more you relax, the easier it will be for you, dearheart." Inserting the digit further, he listened to he screams as he fingered her tight ass. It would be worth it, even if she didn't yet understand. Playing with her this way would heighten her pleasure. He bent down, licking her again, coaxing those beautiful peals of passion from her. He kissed her left cheek, then bit into it as hard as he could. Releasing her from his bite, he pulled his finger out of her.

Turning to face him, she pounced him to the bed. Capturing her by her hair, he forced her to kiss him. He watched her blush deeply under his hold, gaining immense satisfaction. She quickly eased into the kiss, mounting him. Her hands guided his cock back into her pussy. When the tip was in, he bucked up into her. She cried into his kiss.

Reading him was easy for her; she quickly timed herself to his thrusting, maximizing their pleasure. His moans paired with hers. Her nails once more dug into his flesh, bringing more wells of crimson blood drops scattered across his chest. He sat up, still pounding her, and bit into her neck so hard, she went limp in his arms. "You're my filthy little whore," he whispered into her ear. He licked her earlobe before biting down on the soft skin. He smacked her ass again, loving how her tight pussy reacted to him. She moaned again as her skin burned.

Her arms wrapped around his neck again, pulling him as close to her as possible. Their lips met, kissing passionately as their tongues danced with each other. He began to slow his pace as she affectionately ravaged him. He rocked her on his dick slowly, deliberately hitting all her pleasure spots. Whimpers came up through her throat. He clutched her breast, and with his other hand, her ass.

It felt as though his dick was fucking a waterfall; a hot, tight, sticky, waterfall, she was so wet. Her fingers wound through his hair, both hands pulling with a clenched grip. A gravelly groan was her reward.

"Harder," he whispered.

She obeyed, fisting his hair and pulling his head back. She bit the exposed skin of his neck until she was certain he would bruise.

"Ooh," he moaned, "Fuck." He kissed her softly before pulling out. He caught her by her wrists and led her back to his pillows. Buried under them were two pairs of handcuffs, attached to his bed frame. "Lay down," he demanded.

Laying against his pillows, she allowed him to chain her. When she was secured, he straddled her chest again, his cock dangling before her. "You know what to do," he commanded. She sucked his tip into her mouth, unable to use her hands.

Fucking had definitely effected her; she was feeling frisky. She moved faster, and gently bit the tip of his cock, causing him to yell in mixed pleasure and pain. Catching her by the throat, he demanded she do that again. She obliged, doing it until she tasted a drip of his pre-cum once more.

He pulled his cock out of her mouth. "My beautiful little vixen," he sighed. "Do not ever hesitate to bite me." He leaned down to kiss her, and she met him. When their lips parted, she bit him, tasting his blood.

The wound ignited Pein into a frenzy. He forcefully entered her again, and she arched up to meet him. He pounded her, faster than he had previously. She whimpered and yelled, urging him to give her more, begging him to fuck her. She moved in sync with him, meeting him when he thrust into her.

She moved her ankle over his shoulder, increasing the angle of his thrusting. Pein twisted her, continuing to pound into her from a side angle. He brought his nails down her back, bringing his hand to caress every inch of her.

He reached under the pillows again, pulling yet another surprise for her. In his hand was a single kunai. Fear clouded her eyes. He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Safe word," he reminded her, stopping his movements. She nodded, obviously still weary. Pein pushed the kunai into her hands, removing the cuff from the bed frame, freeing her left hand. Confusion stared at him through her eyes. "Cut me," he pleaded. "Make me bleed for you, carve your name in my flesh." He kissed her again, licking her tongue.

Laying on her back again, she brought the knife point to his chest. He guided her hand to where he wanted the incisions: his right hip. The kanji for Tsuki flowed from the point of the knife, staining his flesh. Euphoria illuminated his face, and she saw him as a truly beautiful man, willing to forever be marked as hers. Lavender eyes fell upon her as she brought the knife to her lips to lick the blade clean.

The blade was removed from her hands. The point of the kunai was pressed against her upper inner thigh. He carved the symbol for animal into her flesh. It was no larger than a postage stamp. He threw the knife into the wall as he bent down to kiss her tears of pain away. "The pain will make it better, I promise," he whispered. He licked the swelling of blood from her thigh.

The restraint that was once bound to the frame was placed around his own wrist, binding them together. He began moving again, painting their bodies in blood. He didn't dare take it to the level of passion they were previously at, but he wasn't gentle either. Keeping a moderate pace, he watched the pain fade from her eyes. Indulging in her warmth was sheer bliss. Once more her body moved against his, bringing them together. Her carnal noises added to his, crescendoing into a symphony of desire.

All at once, he watched her eyes widen. Nails dug into his chest as she attempted to sit up, but was pulled back by her right wrist. He felt the familiar sensation of female climax around his shaft. He slowed to a gruelling pace, barely moving at all. Her chest heaved, rising and falling with each successive breath.

Gingerly caressing her face, he smiled down at her tenderly. She returned the smile to him playfully. When he began to pull out, she stopped him."You're not finished yet," she playfully growled.

An eyebrow arched as he looked at her. "Are you unsatisfied?" he inquired.

Before she answered, she ran her fingers down his scratch riddled chest, smearing the blood into trails. "I'm very sated," she answered. "It's your turn to cum."

His kiss lingered on her skin as he started to thrust again, slowly building momentum. He savoured the feel of her, She was already pleased, and it would be a while before her stamina came back. Sensuality overcame him as drunken coitus shifted into the erotic dance of love making. The emotions of pride and joy overwhelmed him as he saw her, spent and bleeding. She was so responsive to him, she moved as though he were commanding her.

Her hands found his hair again as she wrapped herself around him. He kissed her again, releasing her right hand and holding her to him, sitting upright. She danced in his lap, allowing him time to simply enjoy her. Pein held her as she rode him, kissing her non-stop. It wasn't long before his pelvis kept time with hers, driving his erect penis deeper inside her.

Their breathing became erratic as they continued their carnal play. Every other breath was a moan from her. Bracing herself with his body, she had her hands on his shoulders for both leverage and support. Touching every inch of her back, he drank in her sensations; her feeling, her smell, her taste. A goddess was dancing on him.

Once her breathing became laboured, he was concerned that she was overexerting herself. He laid her back down on the bed to continue loving her when she whispered seductively in his ear. "You're going to make me cum again."

It was as though a switch had been flipped at the sound of her words. She wasn't the only one. "Cum for me, Princess," he sighed, "And I'll cum for you." He fought through it, trying to maintain contact with her as long as possible until he felt his orgasm surfacing. He pulled out of her just in time to shoot his seed onto her abdomen, feeling her shudder around his cock again as he did. Their mutual orgasm left them both drained.

Shifting around to accommodate the chains binding their wrists, Pein pulled the bottom corner of the blanket to her stomach to clean of the sticky mess he had erupted onto her. It was then that he unlocked their cuffs, throwing the pair off the bed. He pinned her, pulling her into his arms. The way her body fit against him as she curled up was immediately relaxing. He stroked her cheek, her shoulder, and her sides as she wrapped her arms around his abdomen.

Out of tender compassion, he pulled the blankets over her, encasing her in his satin sheets. His lips found hers, he kissed her passionately. As far as he was concerned, this marked a battle he had won. She was his; he had claimed her away from any man who stood to reclaim her. Sure, he was expecting there to be opposition when the members came back, primarily from Deidara and Itachi, but they were his subordinates. There was nothing they could do. Yes, the battle had been won, but he knew the war was not over.

A petite sigh escaped from her lips as she slipped into slumber. The last thing she remembered feeling was his hands as he stroked her hair. Dreams quickly washed over her, showing her twisted visions of love and passion. She relived her endeavours with Pein several times, each time small details about him would change. His hair would darken in one, his eyes would lighten in another, until he took on the form of Neji.

She dreamed of him, his lovemaking sweet and sensual, the smell of his release so strong, the scent of lilacs in the air. So realistic were they, she could feel his hair tickle her breasts as he leaned in to kiss her softly. Their tongues slowly met as tenderly removed his still throbbing member from her. He tasted like peppermint tea and honey. He would whisper sweet nothings in her ear, telling her how much he loved her, how he had always loved her as he pulled her into his arms.

"I love you too," she whispered, stroking his cheek. She shifted to lay on his chest, sweetly tracing swirling patterns in his skin with her fingertips.

He kissed her again, softly nibbling on her lower lip. "I've waited years to hear you say that," he sighed.

Her dreams chased themselves around her mind, bringing her more joy than she'd felt in weeks. A single tear escaped from her as she smiled in her sleep. They would play all over again, each time becoming more detailed. She smelled him, tasted him, and felt him as though he were there with her, and she soon forgot it was not Neji's chest she was laying on.