DON'T OWN NARUTO, KTHNKSBYE!
Sasori quivered as skilled fingers traced around his thighs, holding back his noise as much as humanly possible. This wicked teasing had gone on too long, and he did not possess the world's best amount of patience.
He could feel his throat going dry as he let out heavy breaths. When he found it in himself to speak, his voice sounded primal in its rawness.
"Itachi...stop teasing..." He managed to get out. The raven-haired beauty nodded, speechlessly, and gave a short farewell kiss to one of Sasori's thighs before bringing his attention to the puppet master's cock.
Sasori moaned throatily as Itachi took in the tip, tongue laving it in a way that made the puppet shake uncontrollably. He couldn't believe how wonderful this pulsing feeling in him was, and he gripped the pillows of his bed so much that he thought he ripped them. Still, the other man's motion was driving him mad. Ever a sadist, Itachi only took in the tip, occasionally drawing a finger over the heated member just to make the Akasuna whine.
About thirty seconds of this torture was all Sasori could possibly stand, and his hips started to shove forward into that wonderful mouth of their own accord. Itachi allowed him to move like that for a bit, and it was amazing to Sasori how good this felt. His head started to toss about, red hair draping over his eyes, and it was with no small wonder that this was where he started to truly make noise, softly gasping and groaning and needing more of this touch presented to him. Truly, if he'd known acts of passion were this spine-meltingly phenomenal, he would have never turned back on his humanity.
But it was still just teasing to Sasori. He whimpered, which was unlike him in the least, and started to put more force into his thrusting to try and communicate that. Itachi understood, just like he always did in moments like this, and reluctantly pulled away from Sasori's length.
Sasori groaned, missing the mouth's skilled warmth already even though he'd wished it gone. He slowly opened his eyes, not able to remember when it was he'd closed them, and his gaze met the blood red that was Itachi's sharingan.
"Impatient, Sasori...you're far too impatient. For that, there are punishments that must be dealt." Itachi whispered. Sasori almost felt like smiling, for the raven's words, however deadly calm they'd been said, most definitely carried Itachi's lust in them.
"I'll gladly take punishment, so long as you get on with it quickly." Sasori's reply came. It was an interesting thing, to hear his voice this far from its usual cold. Not that it mattered. Itachi was far too cold to make a jeering comment.
Cold...no matter how Sasori thought of it, both of them were cold. Itachi, a man that was very nearly invincible and emotional stone, and himself...well, he was almost completely void of emotion. Yes, he had bodily feelings, but as far as emotion, he was a blank except, possibly, for a certain blonde bomber with a speech impediment. But Deidara was perpetually uninterested in him, so he was forced to find...alleviations for his passion. Itachi seemed very open to the proposition of bedding tonight, and a quick conversation had gotten them where they were right now.
Itachi looked down at Sasori, his blanket of silky black hair falling loosely and close to Sasori's face. Neither of them looked anything less than dominant. Cold. But they both knew what was going through each other's minds. They weren't thinking about each other. They both had other people on their minds right now, and they knew it.
Itachi leaned forward and whispered into Sasori's ear, dark and predatorily. "Scream for me." He whispered.
And there, with only earlier-made preparations as a given mercy, Itachi surged into Sasori.
The redhead did indeed scream. Damn his attention to detail that made it possible for him to be uke. It was far too sensitive down there, and considering Itachi's size...it was too much. He was being torn open. He only hoped the walls were thick enough that the Akatsuki wouldn't be wakened by his cries.
Itachi was kind in that he waited for Sasori to stop screaming and relax a bit before moving, and when he did. It was in circles, to help widen him. Sasori was thankful, most assuredly. But he was torn up now. No point in crying for it, though. So he simply raised himself up, still impaled upon Itachi, and placed arms almost lovingly underneath Itachi's to hook at his shoulders. A better angle might help the pain. Yes, a better angle.
Soon, though, the awkward feeling of it got to him. A single breath between them, and Sasori wriggled a signal of readiness. Itachi nodded, and started to thrust. Sasori gave an involuntary scream, his head flinging backwards and his vision overtaken by white for an instant. How could Itachi find that spot so easily, so quickly? He wasn't left to ponder the subject, and his vision again went white. He started to cry out in earnest, Itachi's powerful thrusts being too much to hold noise back from.
"De...Itachi...please! Harder!" He moaned, pulling himself flush against the other. In his mind, he took a moment to kick himself for his stupidity in almost saying Deidara's name. Again, his mind was wiped clean when Itachi started putting more force in his thrusts.
Oh...gods...this feeling was exquisite. It was a slow euphoria that made him feel like he was truly art. And Itachi was making him a sculpture, carving him bit by bit. He could only pretend that it was Deidara doing this to him, hands massaging him and whispering things that would bring Sasori to his knees.
He was close now, he knew it. Itachi was amazing, every thrust hitting Sasori's prostate dead-on, with force. He knew he was screaming, but he didn't know what. And he felt himself loosing his grip on reality. And when he was teetering on the brink, Itachi gave pause for a bit, whispered a name that wasn't Sasori's, and drove into the puppet harder than he ever had before. Sasori's vision completely hazed over, and he was screaming at the top of his lungs as he came along with Itachi. He was sure this act was as close to heaven as he could get now.
They stayed like that a bit, basking in the glow of orgasm, then Sasori pulled away, the noise Itachi's exit from his body not at all bad sounding.
Itachi made no conversation before he left. No comforting words, no confessions of love, not even a goodbye. Nothing. He just pulled on his Akatsuki robe, his only current article of clothing, and left. Sasori stared at the wall, not bothering to clean himself. Instead, he decided it would be nice to fall asleep and dream of the one person he knew he couldn't get.
OMG my first lemon's over! Yesh, my first...;
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