The only conclusion I could come that did not involve drugs or illness was: I have gone crazy. Which seemed like a pretty accurate conclusion to me. But how was I supposed to say no?
How? How, when this was the only intimate contact I had ever received? How, when my heart and groin both ached for it, even though my rational brain told me to stop this immediately? How? Yes, I have done crazy. Unfortunately, I'm liking every minute.
Some may have disliked looking into his eyes, but, strangely enough, I found it kind of erotic. They bled murder, sorrow, anger, and suffering. Every sort of misery you could imagine. But the misery was the misery of others. He was gentle, though. Amazingly gentle for someone of his status. Of course, I'm not really one to talk.
His fingers had a cold, calculating sort of dexterity, made all the more calculating by his mouth, which was currently torturing my neck. But if it was torture, chain me to the wall. He smirks at my insistence at taking of his clothes. With disdain from 1 part curiosity, 2 parts lust, I toss off his black and red cloak and start shredding his shirt. All this really does is make him more determined to see me naked.
With quick precision, he manages to yank my clothes off and discards his pants. I push him onto the bed, landing on top of him. My mouth locks fiercely onto his, my tongue begging for entrance, which he immediately allows. Our tongues battle for dominance and he lets me win, knowing he will win the bigger battle later.
My fingers fist through his fine black hair and I jerk his head back, forcing him to give me greater access to his mouth. If all I ever did was this, I'd be happy. But thank Kami-sama, he's not that much of a tease. My hand wanders down his chest and strokes his erection, as I briefly pray to Kami-sama that neither of my siblings will hear or see this.
Kankuro would just laugh and ask when I became a cock-sucker (in that exact language, my brother is very coarse). Temari would get very, very quiet, which, for her, means she's upset. So, I pray to any god listening neither of them will know, even as I groan into his mouth.
His hands, too have the habit of wandering. I see him smirk as he strokes me faster. I copy the movement, watching his jaw tighten, struggling not to make a sound, not to give me what I want. So, what can I do but go faster, silently commanding him to give me what I desire: audio evidence.
I know I give him plenty. He smiles as I moan continuously, loving the feeling of his hands on my skin.
I love the sound that comes from his mouth. It's a low, rough, keening moan that reminds me of an animal in heat. Too bad I don't have sharingan of the ears or I would memorize that sound, just so I could keep hearing it. I have a strong, perverse urge to get him to make that sound as loudly as humanly possible.
He was hungry for some evidence of my pleasure though. That I will not allow. Not if I can help it. But I don't know how much longer I can help it. He lacks practice, but is extremely perceptive and seems to have a natural instinct. So, what can I do but give in? My head leans back and I release the broken moan I had kept in the back of my throat.
Back to Original POV
I was fast becoming impatient with this game and craved to play a new one. There was a feeling in my body, like screws being tightened, that I knew only he could get rid of.
He lay looking up at me like a panther stalking it's pray. With no warning, he attacked. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed us over, so he was on top. He was a beast. Attacking my mouth, my neck, my chest. And I was lost in the woods. Silently hoping, more, more, MORE. If only I knew. MORE would soon be what I would get.
"Are you ready?" he asked, breathing harshly. I nod. "Are you sure?" Another nod.
He places two fingers in front of my mouth. "Suck." he demands.
Curious, I do it and watch with fascination as his eyes widen and he stares at my mouth with lust. He licks his lips in anticipation, his eyes telling me he's ready to jump me right now. Transfixed, I suck harder and swirl my tongue across his fingers. He inhales sharply.
"Enough." he says finally, breaking our gazes.
He slowly inserts one finger into my entrance. It's uncomfortable and makes me want to squirm, but it don't. He gives me time to adjust, the inserts a another. More discomfort and a slight twinge of pain. He slides his fingers in and out, moving slowly. I bite my lip, unsure of this new feeling. It's not bad, just...different.
When he feels satisfied with his work, he takes his fingers out and positions himself at my entrance. He enters slowly, impossibly slowly. Pain shoots up my spine, making me bite my lip harder, drawing blood. He gently licks the blood from my lips, giving me a chaste kiss.
I may not hear the words, but the meaning couldn't be clearer. If he had been a more human person, he may have said 'I'm sorry', but he doesn't know those words. Pity. Neither do I.
Eventually, the monotony irritates me. "Move!" I demand, getting frustrated.
I watch his eyes swirl red-black. He thrusts, moving in surprisingly sharp, quick movements. He hits a spot in me that makes me grip the sheets.
"Faster." I manage to choke out. I'm not stupid. He memorized the spot with two-tomoe sharingan. I may have to keep him. He has a brain.
Ah, the glorious moaning. Oh yes, it does get louder, and, as I found out, the louder he moans, the deeper the pitch. Dear Kami, that's hot. So, of course, I thrust harder, making his animalistic sounds louder. His already deep tone just dropped half an octave from the original. I wonder if I can make it go a full octave.
I am the devil, the devil am I.
I've even stopped kissing him just so I can hear it at full volume. I'd kill my own mother for a tape recorder at this point. (A/N: I make very bad joke here) Or at the very least, an audio graphic memory. (I have one of those!)
My hands can't stay still. The feeling of his skin is to me like heroin is to a heroin addict. I crave the taste, the smell, the touch. I bite, suck, kiss, lick, and caress any skin I can get to while he thrashes restlessly. His hands claw down my back, raking the flesh, making it sting and burn slightly. It feels good to me, making me groan as all the sensations combine to one. Smell: I smell him. Taste: I taste him. Sight: I see him. Touch: I feel him. Sound: I hear him. I sense only him.
It gives me a high, light-headed feeling.
I moan continuously, hands helplessly gripping the sheets. I can't...I can't think. Every time he enters, he directly hits the right spot, making any rational thinking impossible. I want to scream, but my voice isn't obeying. All I can do is moan and wrap my legs around his waist.
He thrusts harder and harder, driving my libido mad. I bite his shoulder, drawing blood as I encourage him to go faster. He moans in my ear, telling me without words he wants me to do it again. I bite harder and he moans louder, panting in my ear as I lick up the blood.
His hand reaches down and begins pumping my erection in time with his thrusts. "Come for me." His voice is a moan, telling me how close he is.
I pant, shaking my head a little. I don't ever want it to end, this feeling. He growls, thrusting over and over, but now not really taking himself out anymore. It was intended to attack that spot.
"Surrender." he hissed, arching his back. "Surrender to me. I want you, all of you."
"Only," I manage to say "only if you give of all yourself to me."
He hisses, then moans.
"I already have." he sighs to me. We no longer exist for a moment as we come together. We no longer exist separately. We are both one entity, for one moment.
I love him.
I love him.
The End. No funny ending this time. I'd like to thank Tifa by the way, who requested this story, thereby forcing me to get this wonderful inspiration. Arigato. Please review. Like it? Don't like it?