CHAPTER 2
She exhaled, a shudder in her breath. Her hand backed against the threshold of her teeth, grinding against the thin of her skin, suppressing her voice. He felt her close to coming. Perhaps it was the patter of rain on their room window while a storm brewed about the ship, their seclusion away from his family's prying eyes. Perhaps it was Naruto's snake wine. But tonight, he is a generous partner. He wasn't fazed nor his appetite did wane seeing her usual cold eyes when he pried away her iPad. She wasn't surprised. She never was. Or at least she always acted like he should just get over it, as planned by their families, as scheduled by the doctors, her body a mere sheet of clean, white paper wherewith he drafts his blueprints. He massaged her breasts, licked her nipples till they were taut and swollen, and cupped her sex till she was dripping enough without her usual prescribed synthetics. The two of them had never done it like this. He never kissed her like a madman, never used to feel like it—that is, until now.
He rammed into her till she writhed about, red-faced, both hands clamped to her mouth, never deigning to give him the pleasure of hearing her moan. He wrestled her hands away from her face and shoved them overhead. The way she arched into him, how her hips uncontrollably rose from the bed to meet his thrusts halfway, panting like a dog on a concrete runway on a hot day.
"Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke…"
By the tip of his rod, she called for help. Only he can save her at this point, only he can grant her relief. If he were not to act on it, this woman, former Hinata Hyuga, twenty-three, would only live a life of undeserved suffering. Pitiful, petite, an hourglass figure, chest like pillows, eyes like cold spring water from the white caps of the alps, and not very bright. She could barely graduate from university when he married her and her father must've pulled some strings. A fragile princess. An indolent wife. Perhaps she deserves some suffering—more, were it not for the chant of his name spilling forth from her lips, invoking a sensuous spell that brought about more stirrings about his loins. Alright. He will concede to that. He will help, but he will not be swift about this rescue. Not until she's on the verge of falling apart, not until her voice is hoarse from the torture.
He brought her to her knees and pulled her back by her arms. She was an animal; his animal. He dictated the pace, halted when she wanted most to finish. And just within that flash of a few seconds, that swift, short revelry of a prophetic window before he knew he'd lose leverage and the edges of his consciousness fly off the rails, he pinned her in place, spread her out like a frog ready for dissection, and set her deep recesses thoroughly on fire, vomiting himself into the dark abyss which gently welcomed and kept him hostage with a chokehold.
She sought his mouth in the dark. They kissed, tongues slithering as they tried to catch their breaths.
"I love you," she whispered soon as he made space for them to breathe.
And as the dim light settled into the shadow of her features, it revealed to him a different woman.
"Sakura?!" He pushed away.
In a blink, her green eyes turned reptilian, her skin coiled around him frocked with texture in subhuman degrees, teasing her forked purple tongue between claw-shaped fangs. Then and there, every nerve in his body seemed to retch in retaliation and willed the whole system to wake. He opened his eyes and stared unblinkingly at the ceiling for a full minute.
He felt for another person next to him and called out for her.
"Hyuga... Are you there?"
When only the low humming of the aircon and distant ship machinery answered back, he let out a sigh of slight relief.
"What a terrible dream," he muttered, to chase away the dread from the nightmare eating at him and the tension still tingling in his loins. He looked out the window and the waves below were perfectly still. He needed some air.
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