A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! I hope part 2 does the rest of this story justice! Enjoy! This will have yet a third part, the final part.
Warning: Heavy sexual themes, no kiddies reading!
You have been warned.
I L.o.v.e. The Way You L.i.e.
You ever love somebody so much, you could barely breathe when you with em'?
Got that warm fuzzy feeling, yeah, them chills, used to get 'em
Now you're getting' fuckin' sick of looking' at 'em
She stood beside his chair while he negotiated with the neighboring villages.
The hidden villages (shinobi villages) no longer existed, now those left were just harmless civilians. Those few shinobi clans that survived Madara's destruction went into hiding. They would eventually breed out with non-clan members, regular people, until the line was all but lost. Sakura briefly wondered why he never sought a child from her or any other female. Maybe he saw himself omnipotent and needed no heir or just never found any woman worthy. She bit her lip at that thought. Today she wore a navy blue kimono with pink and white flowers etched into the fine silk. Pink tresses had been pulled up to a messy mass upon her head, yet it somehow appeared elegant.
She hated being controlled. Told what to wear, what to say, how to think. Madara loved controlling her, his own personal doll. He lifted his goblet in silent demand for her to refill his cup. Gently lifting the pitcher which was full of very expensive aged wine, her fingers itched to "accidentally" slip, letting the blood red liquid splash all over her master. Madara's sharingan eyes moved right and looked at her out of the corner of his eye, silently telling her she was taking too long. Prick. She wrapped her fingers around the goblet, receiving little tingles up her arm from touching his hand. The civilians in the room grew quiet as they marveled at her elegance and beauty. Ignoring the gawking spectators she filled his cup and went to step back, only for him to gently grab her elbow. Guiding her to his lap, he secured her there. Sakura's face flamed to the roots of her pink hair, just what was he doing?
Madara loved showing dominance, especially displaying it for others to see. It was a clear display of power.
"Let me go," She hissed lowly to him, only for his keen ears to hear.
"You forget who owns you," He stated while possessively wrapping his arm around her middle.
He was at total ease in his element, i.e. manipulation, while she was uncomfortable and humiliated in front of people she didn't even know. She looked like she willingly sat on his lap, it was all she could do to will away the taunting thoughts that would surely haunt her later.
The devil's whore.
She was still clutching the small pitcher to her bosom, would be her only saving grace. Why? Because Madara moved to remove the pitcher and she resisted. Losing his patience he yanked it from her, effectively splashing both participants. Great, now Sakura's expensive kimono that he himself picked out (as he did with all her clothing) would be permanently stained. Angry, he said a few words to the village representatives before dragging her out of the meeting hall.
You swore you'd never hit 'em, never do nothing to hurt 'em
Now you're in each others face spewing venom in your words when you spit 'em
They arrived and immediately entered his bed chamber.
"Strip," He commanded while removing his own clothing.
"I'm not your whore," She whispered fervently, clutching the front of her now ruined kimono.
His original intention was not to sleep with her, rather have her change out into new clothing, but those words set him off.
"You think yourself higher than a whore?" Madara's voice stayed quiet but deadly.
Sakura's green eyes flashed in anger as she rounded on him.
"I was hailed as a medical prodigy! I was one day going to pass my shishou, Tsunade-sama! I am a proud kunoichi of the hidden leaf! I will not be insulted by you! A murder who killed women and babies, innocent people! If anything, you are BELOW me." If she was going to be called a whore, she'd knock him down a peg.
Madara grinned then, a slow predatory grin.
"That was then, this is now. Konoha no longer exists, you are no longer a shinobi nor that Senju's apprentice. You are nothing, not even fit to bear my child." That certainly stung. Did he know she was thinking about children earlier?
"Then if I mean nothing, why keep me here, why torment me?" She screamed at him, wanting to dig her claws in and wound deep.
"Because I can," He reached out, grasping strands of her glorious pink locks (that had loosened from resisting him in the meeting hall), letting them go slowly; tortuously.
"Fuck you," Sakura's voice spoke of untold hatred.
"You've already done that my dear, many times in fact," He loved bantering with her, getting her riled to the point she'd throw all caution to the wind.
Sakura shuddered as her eyes adverted to the dark carpet.
Madara took the chance to come closer, whispering in her hair, "Would you spread your legs for me now?"
Sakura ignored his taunt, trying to fight down both tears and rage.
"My little whore queen."
That set her off. She tackled him to the ground, intent on tearing him to shreds.
You push, pull each others hair, scratch, claw, bit 'em
Throw 'em down, pin 'em, so lost in the moments when you're in 'em
They rolled around, both fighting for dominance. She managed to mark him with her claws, little scratch marks now marred his tanned muscled chest. Madara just laughed, which added to her anger. Why? Why was she so weak? If she pulled his hair, he'd tell her to do it harder; if she straddled him, he'd tell her to ride him. Anything she tried to get him angry or force him to break, only served to rile her up even more. Why? Because was always one step ahead of her, one more retort or taunt. Panting, she lay on the floor, breasts straining against the silk fabric. Sitting up he watched her flush face, heaving bosom, and those full kissable lips working - silently cursing herself and him. He chuckled. Madara took advantage again by rolling on her, pinning those strong little fists down. He nuzzled her hair, stopping briefly to kiss her beautiful swan neck, ending up in the valley of those wondrous soft globes. Did he mention she smelled divine? Cherry blossoms with a hint of spice he could not place.
"Let's get you out of these clothes," Untying her Obi with ease, he slid his lean hands beneath the front of her kimono, and effectively removed the pieces of clothing that shielded him from his prize. Now she lay naked, still panting, gazing at him with wonder. Hard buds rose against the dark pink aureolas, perfect pebbles. Milky white flawless skin presented to him to kiss, nibble, and torture at will. His eyes drifted down to the thin but trimmed patch of pink soft curls protecting her most sacred place. Sakura watched him through heavy lidded eyes, too tired to fight back and overly enjoying his sinful perusal of her form. She should not want him; a murder, a monster. He drew lazy circles on the inside of her thighs, where the skin would be the most soft and sensitive. She shivered at the playful touch, her belly suddenly jumping as one of his hands slid up to rest on her lower stomach. Smirking, he dipped his head, blowing at the warm moist lips. She moaned quietly and tried twisting away from him. Madara held her there, his hot breath on her heated flesh.
"Stop teasing me," Sakura bit her lip, a blush adorning her perfect features.
"What did my little whore queen say?" He rested his chin purposely on her mound, rubbing back and forth.
She arched her back, wanting to move her hips, but he held her still. In that moment, she didn't care what she was called.
"….Please stop teasing me…." She repeated, adding a plea this time.
"What do you want me to do?" This time he would give her the power. A role reversal of sorts, she his master and him her slave.
Sakura felt the change and seized control of it.
Threading her nimble fingers through those dark blue spikes she commanded, "Make me come with your mouth."
He smirked, "Yes my queen."
They always resolved their fighting by having sex. Make up sex was the best sex in the world. Both knew once they got what they wanted, everything would fall back into the same routine. He would become her master and she'd revert back to being his subject. Though this was the first time Madara had used the word "queen", and it made Sakura's mind wander. What if he really did marry her and make her his queen? She frowned, he wouldn't want an equal. She knew he always had an inferiority complex, much like Sasuke had been. She snorted unladylike, Uchihas. Always arrogant, overly prideful, and demanding. Her thoughts were broken the moment Madara laved at her clit with his searing hot wet tongue. Sucking the nub, he chuckled as she pulled forcefully on his mane of hair. He made sure to also take her labial lips into his mouth, tugging them playfully so that they'd snap back against her opening. Madara watched her writhe in pure pleasure as his tongue licked down and up the slick slit. More juices flowed as she shuddered, lifting her hips in a grinding motion. Whispers from her not to stop. He forced his muscled appendage into her opening, rubbing the walls with a masterful skill; while nuzzling her aching clitoris with his nose. It wasn't long before she cried out; arched back, thighs shaking.
He crawled back up her body, kissing her deeply. She wasn't revolted when she tasted herself on his tongue, if anything it served to turn her on even more. With slightly shaking hands, she grasped his hardened shaft, which twitched excitedly in her hold. Not breaking their kiss she started to move her hand up and down, creating a steady pace. He was the one to break the kiss, moving his head down to kiss and suckle her breasts. Madara was delighted when he heard a stifled cry as he nipped the hardened buds. Sakura wrapped her legs around his hips, angling her own to line up. No words were spoken, only flesh and pleasure between them. She sighed in contentment when he slid deep inside her. Unlike their raucous romps in the past, this one was slow. Both wanted to savor each other until the pleasure built up too high they couldn't stand it.
Not being able to stand the silence anymore, she finally spoke.
"Do you really love me?" She recalled back to the hallway incident, he never answered her.
He stilled within her, "Why ask something at a time like this?" Trying to find some semblance of cohesive thought out of the haze of blinding ecstasy.
"You never… answered me." Madara knew what she was talking about.
"I already told you I loved you," His eyes narrowed, annoyed.
Women. Why did they always have to spout love nonsense when they mated?
"I just want to hear it," She whispered, green eyes searching his red ones.
He remained silent. Did he really love her or did he use it as a tool to get her to stay?
"We can discuss this later, now be quiet." He started to move again, ending the conversation.
Madara tossed back his head when he came, his eyelids fluttering closed. An image of pure bliss. Sakura had her head turned away, quiet tears making tracks down her face. He removed himself from her when he finished, pulling out some new clothes to dress in. He left her without so much as a single word. This was the first time she did not enjoy their love making…. no…. what did they call it? Fucking. Casual encounter. The act had many words and none of them were less painful when said or thought of. She found the strength to sit up and immediately went into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, she scrubbed every inch of her body. Sliding down the shower wall, she curled into a tight ball, the water bathing her with warmth yet she did not feel it. What word did they call that?
It's the race that took over, it controls you both
So they say you'd best go your separate ways, guess that they don't know you
'Cause today, that was yesterday, yesterday is over, it's a different day
Sound like a broken record playing over
If you love something, set it free.
However Madara would never let her leave freely.
She opened the window and glanced back. Once she was out on the roof top it would be easy to navigate off and disappear in to a faceless crowd. After all, she wasn't Sakura Haruno, fierce kunoichi of the hidden leaf with expert skills in medical ninjutsu; she was just a regular person now. With one more lingering look at the expensive kimonos, the large king sized bed, and the various trinkets that littered her room, she wiggled out and closed the window with a quiet snap. Tip toeing over the shingles she easily hopped down and snuck off the grounds. She only let herself breathe when she melded into the crowd. They were currently enjoying fall holidays and the village was hosting a festival. Where would she go now? Maybe find some of the shinobi hiding and form a resistance? No, she didn't want to risk anymore lives, knowing it would result in many needless deaths. A small smile found it's way to her lips. Sakura could find a remote mountain village and settle down as the resident doctor. She'd like that.
"Sakura has escaped," Zetsu morphed from the wall.
Madara flinched slightly before turning.
So, she finally made a real attempt to escape.
"What would you like us to do?"
"Follow her and inform me if anything comes up."
"Roger," Zetsu disappeared as quickly as he come.
If she's running, let her run. He'd catch her soon enough.
They both knew she was following a pipe dream.
But you promised her, next time you'd show restraint
You don't get another chance, life is no Nintendo game
But you lied again, now you get to watch her leave out the window
Guess that's why they call it window pane
"Do you really love me?"
The words echoed through his consciousness.
In truth, he didn't know himself. Madara did feel something for Sakura, but it was more of a possessive obsession. She was a drug he needed, craved. What did he give her in return? Nothing but hurtful words and emotional pain. Che, he shouldn't care. Right now, he was god of this world, nothing should matter but his own happiness. Opening the door to her room he entered quietly, drinking in every detail of the surroundings. She never took any of the kimonos he bought her. Foolish woman, she could have used them as bartering chips, money to fund her getaway, allowing her to travel farther away from him. Then again, Sakura's pride would not allow her to take something he had given her to use it for her benefit. She hated Madara and anything that reminded her of him. Sitting on the edge of the lush bed, he grabbed one of her pillows. Breathing in deeply, he inhaled traces of her intoxicating scent. His Sakura. Lying back on the bed, he stared up at the hangings. They were an odd shade of dark green. They were nothing like her light sparkling emerald pools that would flash at him when she was angry. He closed his eyes, drawing her image from pure memory.
For the first time in eighty-six years, the Uchiha founder slept.
End part 2