Enough of This
Chapter 5.5: Points of Pain and Pleasure
Part 2
Lucklily, Ibiki didn't try to touch her again. From the sound of it he had backed up until he met the opposite wall of the alley.
Shit, Akari though and then, fuck because an especially deep breath sent to sensations soaring. Her wrists ached from the pain of being pulled hard enough to bruise, but in contradiction she longed for that pain again, for the contact. Her lower back felt aflame, though the logical part of Akari's mind, quickly receeding into nothingness, knew that there would be bruising there as well. Though even as she assessed her own body, Akari felt the ache and flames rise and she knew there was no avaoiding it, because Ibiki had stayed.
"Shit," Akari said it aloud this time, as she turned to face her boss and now the object of her lust, for lack of a substitute. All potential alternatives, some other man, getting aloone to ride it out herself, had been crushed when Ibiki hadn't left. "Fuck."
It was the last coherent thought before the sensations overwhealmed her. She leapt forward.
The rush was indescribable. The warmth of Ibki his mouth, his hands, though gloved, the way he tensed when she wraped one leg around his waist...Ahhh, was the only thing she could think. More.
Akari wrapped her other leg around his waist, forcing him to bear both of their weights, and bit his lower lip. A moan erupted from Ibiki, the firast sound he had made apart form his earlier demand. Well, at least he now knew what the fuck this was. No pun intended.
The pain in his lower lip is what ripped Ibiki from his thoughts. This situation was so similar to the one from a few years before...would it end similarly? Ibiki, surprised at the sudden proximity to Akari leaned back, to try and restore some morality to the position only to be thrawted by Akari wrapped her second leg around him. He let out an involuntary moan. Ah, god, but any man would have to be dead ten years not to react to a woman wrapping her legs around him, grinding herself against him..."Fuuuuuck."
Ibiki, though he restored no morality into the position, he did restore a little inititive in the position to himself. In one twist, ended in a hard shove, Ibiki reversed his position. He twisted, to put Akari against the wall, and shoved himself hard against her, all thoughts of morality gone. He too, let the sensations take him.
Akari moaned and tried futily to move against Ibiki, whe had her pinned to the wall. She twisted, writhing, making amall helpless sounds as she did so, making Ibiki increasingly aware of what was separating her bare skin from his hands. If possible Ibiki felt himself become even harder, and he cut off his own groan of pain and pleasure to crush his mouth onto hers. His hands trailed down to settle briefly on Akari's thighs before they fisted there, bunching up the fabric of her yukata and shoving it up, baring her most private places. He shifted slightly, chaging his angle so that the new intimacy was taken full advantage of. Oh, God he could feel her even through his own clothing.
Ibiki growled and thrust froward, hard enough to hurt, but the sound Akari made were anything but painful. Ibiki, fully pressed against her now, moved his hands, sliding them up her sides and slowly wrapping them around her rib cage, thumbs just beneath her breasts and squeezed.
Akari gasped and twisted, body rippling under Ibiki's hands. He frowned and pressed still harder, causing another gasp that arose from anything but pain. Ibiki felt a dark and tense feeling well up in his belly, his shoulders getting tense and other parts....
Just then there was a loud burst of laughter and the sound of scuffling feet. Ibiki froze pulled back into the reality of his position, trying futily to ignore Akari's writhing and the urge to move, to use some force and gain a response. Akari could not be trusted alone in her current condition, as the lovely drug wreaking havoc on her system would not abate until it was satisfied. And in his current condition, well, if he had to carry Akari back to a safe house, or whatever, embarassment would be the least of his worries were he to be sighted. Afterall, it didn't do much good for one's reputation to be seen manhandling an employee while in a unmistakable state of arousal.
Akari was still trying to move, even though Ibiki had her firmly pinned, allowling her upper body nothing bat an inch or so, for anything beyond would proove very painful, risking broken ribs. Her lower body, legs and arms were another story. Her arms were ripping at his shirt seeking for bark skin and shredding the cloth in the process, her legs around his waist squeezing him, pressing him. She was making little sound of pleasure, pain and frustration as she tried to do the only thing her mind would allow her to think about. It was in that second that Ibki made up his mind and disappeared, Akari with him, in a puff of smoke
***
Ibiki, as he stepped into his apartment Akari still hanging off of him. decided that now was not the time for thinking. Now was the time for doing. Forget the fact that Akari was lying to him, forget that she was lying to him about one of the most prominent threats to Konoha, goddamn, this felt so good. Without pause, he kicked his door shut, shoved a hand into Akari's loose hair, gaining a firm grip, locked his door and begin the arduous trip to his bedroom and his bed. Damn, he was going to wake up to a hell of a lot of regrets in the morining. He would pursue his professional perogative in the morining.
This first thing Ibiki stumbled against was the table in the hallway, when Akari seemed to give up on his shirt and moved her hand lower to play at his belt. What tender and especially sensitive parts her hands encountered forced him try and stop Akari with one hand, while grabbing for the wall with the other in an attempt to remain standing. Doing what he wanted to do on the floor would caise a lot of neeedless aches and pains, and though from previous experience Akari didn't seem to mind pain, Ibiki would rather avoid caising serious injury. At least until her got permission.
Using one hand to guide him, and the other to keep the belt situation under control, Ibiki managed to slide into his bedroom, all without the light on. He would marvel over it in the morning.
Ibiki dropped Akari neatly on his bed, tensing in anticipation and the whimpers that emerged from the lack of contact. He turned his attention to his own clothing. He shrugged off his coat, slid off his gloves and with one hand undid his belt buckle. With his other hand her tugged and ripped at his torn shirt until it was gone, and letting it all fall to the floor. Then he pounced.
Well not punce exactly, for so big a man does not pounce, per se, but the movement was distinctly pounce-like. He was on her in a heartbeat, gripping her sash he yanked it off and threw iot to the side, sash quickly followed by her yukata. He was not surprised to find nothing underneath. He kissed Akari once, slowing everything down for a few seconds just listenting to the ragged breathing, before he let himself uncoil that feeling in his belly and moved.
He entered he with no preamble, and Akari moaned, her blood on fire. His and were rough and bruising and everywhere, correcting a touch, altering an angle, holding down if it suited.
His mouth was another story as well. Teeth and tongue drifted from her mouth to her jaw to her neck and tehn down to her shoulder where teeth dug in, just this side of drawing blood. When she moaned with everything but pain, Ibiki took that as her unspoken consent to do the next.
He brought his hands down to her waist, gripping her tightly and thrusting hard. Too hard for most people. He moved with all of the force he had, barely restraining himslef, hating himslef for reveling in the pained sounds that came from her. Pained yes, but mixed with something darker, something most people didn't ever talk about, but did think about. He knew that He would be glad in the morning for the mattress(?) in the morning, for with out the cushioning, Akari would probably walk away from this with at least a fractured pelvis, if she walked away at all.
And he knew, under all the sensations, that this wasn't the end of anything. it was only the start. History, he knew, was repeating it's self in a long over due manner.