Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Devil In the Moonlight ❯ Chapter 2
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: EternalTwylight 
Story continued, I didn't realize it cut off the story down the line. My apologies.
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 08.06.2006 | Updated On: 08.11.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 918 | Status: Completed
Story continued, I didn't realize it cut off the story down the line. My apologies.
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 08.06.2006 | Updated On: 08.11.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.1K | Visits: 918 | Status: Completed
Her mind groped, like the dirty untrained hands of brash youth caught up in the carnality of closet cappers and promised innuendos, for distraction, anything at all. -Let me see… just this once…-. Imperceptible, unproductive, those green spheres which lolled around in the sockets of her skull, glassy marbles of cracked and murky pigment failed to grasp the concepts of image and form evolving through the humid tides of deep evening. The more she concentrated, tried to hold the slippery visuals in her bloody grip, the more it eluded her, precariously lurching between her fleshy digits.
-Let it all go, … just let it ALL go-, never an easy target to be achieved when one was not often alone, when all the jeers of perplexity and every poorly developed sense of turmoil had shrill vocalizations, carried through with brutal substance. Pounded, hammered and trodden endlessly into her troubled ego. Blissfully her mental acuity swayed and sank into the copious density of quiet; enveloped her body, rushing in like furious rapids to fill in the rifts, arms held wide in welcome embrace.
-Sasuke-. it was just another longing moan, filled to brimming with her unresolved passions and yearnings. A phantom pain, as if she was missing a limb, but the body still remembered where it should have been, should have completed her. Narrowed vision, she peered intently at the figure moving in and out of the collection of broken rays, filtered through the heavy foliage of over hanging trees that rimmed the small clearing. She’d just skirted it, clinging to the edges of a small field, demurely tucked away within the embraces of forest and woodland. Had she come so far? -Stupid, careless little girl. Were you planning on running forever?-
The taste of copper pennies, metallic and salty, on her tongue; the stinging clash of teeth into the meat of a lower lip biting down the rest of whatever voice assaulted her, drove out the bitter snagging beast that took such rejoicing in her misery. The form drifted eloquently through simply executed Taijitsu exercises , a contrast of sharpened angles and softly defined features highlighted in changing hues of midnight all dependant upon where the light held sway strongest in ever changing position. Sudden realization dawned upon her, hit her with all the force of a blow to the gut, stealing the arid breath from her shriveled and despairing lungs and drawing once empty eyes so very wide with disbelief. Every part of her fumbled for clear cut apprehension, rebelling in mutinous design against the false hope of the forethoughts that had flamed such unwanted fancy.
This poised and practiced figure was none other than Hatake Kakashi, her beloved mentor, trusted teacher, sagely Sensei and note worthy leader. He was not to be the accommodating, and oh so gratifying, object of some depraved and debaucherous minded youth. -It’s a pipe dream, get your head out of the clouds.-. A mere fluttering of the eyelids, a mere second to drink in the rapture of such earthly embodiments. But they stirred in her deeper sentiments, deeper cravings of one that too bore such pallor. -Those aren’t clouds my head is stuck in.- The incalescence of such impure thoughts exuded its lecherous heat into her suddenly flushed skin, coloring her cheeks in breathless tinges of rose.
She was adrift upon prolific swells of unheralded adrenaline and drunk upon the ghosts of old memories, so teasingly tainted with the heady enshrined treasures of all too recent recollections. Now, now she could recall the taste of ripened oranges, whose breath had been tinted with its savory perfume. A delicate shudder ran through her limbs, skittered down her spine with warm and lazy hands, spreading its little inklings of propensity. Somewhere within the depths of her a fist clenched tighter, aching and pulsing around feelings and sensations she had no true words for. And with each draught of awareness came a flood of conscious recognition, drawing the tips of her dainty breasts into tight aching pebbles. How they must have protruded, highly pronounced through the material of her dress, but she neither cared nor warranted it the attention an alert mind might have.
She remembered... Uncertain steps carried her through the darkness, into the side room, into the privacy of a small closet, the quarters so cramped and undersized. All coherent thought had long since fled as Sasuke lead her by hand, a mysterious smile stretching his lips, a devilish light in those dark eyes, drowning pools of unreadable elation. Her heart and blood had been so loud in her ears, screaming in panic and joy. All things were blurred and unreal around the edges, this couldn’t be possible happening. She was dreaming again, letting her wistful wanderings take her to places where she’d defied abashment and let her fingers carry her into lewd release.
His hands were rough, insistent as he pushed her back against the cluttered wall, ignoring the small cry that had escaped her pert little mouth, a sense of dark satisfaction churning through his eyes at that tiny plea of pain. The press of his lithe body against her own, molding and fitting snuggly into the crevices of her giving flesh was enough to draw out a low moan. Nestled firmly between her shaking thighs his knee found the softness of her palpitating femininity, forced it up agonizingly slow to rub against the budding flower of her sex.
So prone and helpless, he was mercurial in his movements to take full advantage of that supple and beckoning portal of her mouth. He’d lingered only a moment, hovering breathless over her lips, that sweetly acidic breath whispering across her skin, sending goose bumps scrambling over her arms. The small hairs at the back of her neck electrified as they stood upon end. Just a tiny sensation as his tongue encompassed the sweep of her lower lip, such a scalding euphoric addiction. A faint and indistinguishable whimper sounded deep in her throat, galvanizing him to greater heights. The claiming kiss was neither gentle nor forgiving, eager tongue feeding at her hunger to appease him, swallowing down her wanton voice and tasting the succulent fruits of his labors.
Agile fingers explored her trembling construct of virginal structure, splayed across the expanse of her softly defined ribs, caressing hedonic touches over fragile ill-disposed clothing. She burned inside for more, the influence of his embrace overpowering her senses in arousal, making that secret oasis beneath flow and ebb with every impression branded through his hands, knee and mouth. She was dying, being consumed from the inside out with this fiery need of sensualism. That’s when his fingers found the smooth mound of her breast through the too thin dress, rolling his palm across the tip, coaxing the little stone to rise taut and prepared for the taking should he solicit such actions.
Yes, she remembered.
That emotional display had stirred in him, his own roller coasting, the thoughts at the edges of his conscious turning over and over like a leaf caught in the breeze, tumbling head long into an abyss of unknown decisions. But the moment he’d seen undisguised passion fill up those empty spheres and flood down into her skin, tinting it in a deeply set blush, he’d known she was no longer looking at him, but someone else. Or at the least, that was his eternal hope. His foot slide across the grass, a small misstep, but it’d been enough to bring him out of his fluidly executed exercises. Had been enough to bring his body to a full stop and allow both his eyes to unbidden sweep across his suspended student.
The *CRACK* that followed geared him into sudden action, his legs were moving before his mind had even had time to register what had taken place. It’d only taken a few second, his feet hurriedly closing the distance, a short leap and Sakura was in his arms, right side up. He’d entertained the idea of keeping her dangled in either hand by the ankles, it might have disoriented her less in that position but it seemed somehow obscene to have the poor girl so exposed. The edges of his mouth curled in an amused grin, his eyes narrowed down, reflecting back his kind-natured greeting as the girl with the hair of cherry blossoms came round out of her deeper and despairing thoughts.
“Hello, Sakura.” His voice betrayed none of his concern, it only carried through the lighthearted tone that he wanted to bring across. Another foolhardy pitying opinion was not something she needed at the present moment he’d silent agreed with himself. If the darkness had ever been a palpable and touchable thing, it was clear and immediate, rolling off her body in trembling waves, cresting and breaking against whatever obstacle stood in its wake. He pushed back the flutter of despair pulling at his own heartstrings and gently set the girl upon her feet, keeping her close as she seemed unable to properly keep herself upright.
It had seemed an eternity of never-ending moments of decrepit propaganda playing again and again through her mind with nostalgic envy of what was too far away to reach. It’d wrecked its havoc through her heart and body, left her panting and gulping for composure. The solid feel of arms around her, the cool press of naked flesh against her own fevered skin sobered her to her present engagements. She’d been so lost to the whims of her libido that she’d focused too much charka into her feet and exploded the branch that had innocently offered her its support. He’d caught her, his name whispering deceptively comfortingly through the halls of her psyche, Kakashi.
She wrapped her feeble mind around the word and let it sinks down through the icy depths of her inertia pulling back that last dredges of haze and personal chastisement. Somewhere from within her she pulled forth the strength to paint upon her visage that terrible mask she shone to the world, throwing concocted spacklings of her old self into the valueless things she called eyes. “Thank you, Sensei, I wasn’t paying attention.” That small voice held the notes of hardiness he’d come to expect of her, but he knew it was a falsity, a farce of appeasement. See… see… nothing at all wrong here, please please keep walking? The faint bubble of nervous laughter that accompanied her words settled like a lead weight into the pit of his stomach. His hands twitched with the need to do something, anything to drive away the fraudulent representation of exuberance blatantly shoveled at his feet.
Run... run now you wrecked whelp, it was a screeching command echoing hollowly through the vast desolate chambers of her cranium. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to breath past the moment as she rolled her gaze upward, that handsome face so tender and caring despite the harshness of the shadows that obscured his face as if he still wore his own masks. And just like that, she felt the comforting weight of his arms around her, pulling her in closer towards his body in a surprisingly consoling gesture. He knows…. Now you’ve done it. She made to pull away, but the gentle squeeze of his hands, insistent in their mission of solace relaxed the tensions running sharp and agonizing through her limbs. Take what you can, hold it close and don’t let go… it spoke with a child’s vocalizations, so small and tittering on the brink of someone she used to know.
“Don’t give up yet, Sakura,” his voice filled the night, flew with lustrously bedazzling wings through the pitch curtain that fenced her in, carried her higher above the levees of a dark and distilled tide. “There is hope, still, after all Sasuke didn’t kill Naruto after all.” And in those simple words was so much truth that it pained her heart to hear them, speared through already existent pikes laden with the heads of her internal tormentors, gnashing their teeth to the bitter ends of denial. She vaguely felt his body curl around her, the weight of his lips pressed to the top of her head, the faint and sweetly tempered apple scent of her hair filling his senses with the presence of her. And she no longer felt so brittle in his grasps, so unreal and illusive a thing as alike a will-o-wisp leading unwary villagers to their demise.
Though she hadn’t been there, she’d heard all about the fight that had taken place when the five had been sent to rescue Sasuke. Another pang of regret, you’re still annoying. Naruto had promised to bring him back to her, but he’d failed, he’d fought and thrown himself head first into Hell just for her. There had never been any intent within the blonde’s heart to take the life of his closest friend, he’d done the thing the Uchiha had said he couldn’t… he’d left a single deep scratch across the forehead protector. And even the darkly brooding boy had redirected that last fatal blow to somewhere less potent, had resigned himself to a different destiny and not the bloody inheritance that his brother had tried to lay before him. Sasuke had made the choice himself, for good or for bad, she had to see things through to the end, and she had to hold onto whatever speck was left of hope that kindled in her heart. I will love you always, I will wait for you…
Her Sensei went dead still beneath her gently exploring fingers, softly tracing the hard lines of a solid and muscular abdomen. She'd heard his breath catch, and a tiny bit in her hoped that it wasn't in overstated disapproval and outright rejection but an echo of the need within her. She was such a devil, such a teasing vixen, when he was not the object of her desires, merely a shade, a suitable substitute. Her mind dwelt on another, how he could feel like this for her. -Sasuke- Skin like silk beneath her trembling touches, body quivering with the need to roll her cheek that last little bit and brush her lips unbidden across his stomach. The need was maddening to close the distance that would allow her to dip a tiny pink tongue into the shuddering navel, breaths erratic at her ministrations, and taste of his essence. They would such flitting and genial caresses probing lasciviously into the shallow indention, rolling the taste of him across her lips.
"Sakura," Kakashi's voice was calm, puzzled, but it'd taken a measure of time and control for him to respond. He couldn't help the stirrings of his flesh, despite the fact that it was so taboo, so disallowed, but temptingly amicable, like the apple the serpent had dangled before the hapless eyes of Eve. It was fragrantly ripened fruit that should never be consumed, never be even considered. Tauntingly calling for that first tantalizing taste, supplicating the use of tongue and teeth and the whole of one's mouth in the feat of devouring and savoring the forbidden. "What are you doing?"
And all at once, her breath escaped her lips, so delicately sweet and fluent. Her features washed in the light of graying moonbeams and tranquil illuminations coveted in obscurity. Giving her an almost peaceful expression as but a simple word cascaded from that decadent mouth; so very unimportant and singular, but so encompassing and forlorn all in the same breath.
"Dreaming."
A/N: It's been put to me that this story is just one big tease and that I should have ended it properly with a lemon between Kakashi and Sakura, that I'd built up to it and left it at a sadly disappointing point. If anyone else agrees with this please tell me now either through a review or an email and I guess if I get enough requests I'll add in a nice big fat juicy lemon to end it off with as I should have.
-Let it all go, … just let it ALL go-, never an easy target to be achieved when one was not often alone, when all the jeers of perplexity and every poorly developed sense of turmoil had shrill vocalizations, carried through with brutal substance. Pounded, hammered and trodden endlessly into her troubled ego. Blissfully her mental acuity swayed and sank into the copious density of quiet; enveloped her body, rushing in like furious rapids to fill in the rifts, arms held wide in welcome embrace.
* * *
-Alabaster.-, the word filled up her mouth, clattering against her palate and left a sweetly acidic taste at the back of her throat, like just ripened oranges. -We remember this taste-, it was almost a low coo of vibration, rumbling through her body with remembrance. A subtle stutter claimed her heart, a minuscule spark of undaring hope. It soon brought the proper impressions that followed and permitted her feeble brain to grasp the concepts of worldly sight. There was a man ahead of her, moving among the sparse threads of moon and darker shadows and she’d not even known it till this precarious moment. If she hadn’t slipped, she might not have ever noticed, she might not have ever stopped till her body could no longer function, could no longer summon up the stamina required of such an arduous undertaking.-Sasuke-. it was just another longing moan, filled to brimming with her unresolved passions and yearnings. A phantom pain, as if she was missing a limb, but the body still remembered where it should have been, should have completed her. Narrowed vision, she peered intently at the figure moving in and out of the collection of broken rays, filtered through the heavy foliage of over hanging trees that rimmed the small clearing. She’d just skirted it, clinging to the edges of a small field, demurely tucked away within the embraces of forest and woodland. Had she come so far? -Stupid, careless little girl. Were you planning on running forever?-
The taste of copper pennies, metallic and salty, on her tongue; the stinging clash of teeth into the meat of a lower lip biting down the rest of whatever voice assaulted her, drove out the bitter snagging beast that took such rejoicing in her misery. The form drifted eloquently through simply executed Taijitsu exercises , a contrast of sharpened angles and softly defined features highlighted in changing hues of midnight all dependant upon where the light held sway strongest in ever changing position. Sudden realization dawned upon her, hit her with all the force of a blow to the gut, stealing the arid breath from her shriveled and despairing lungs and drawing once empty eyes so very wide with disbelief. Every part of her fumbled for clear cut apprehension, rebelling in mutinous design against the false hope of the forethoughts that had flamed such unwanted fancy.
This poised and practiced figure was none other than Hatake Kakashi, her beloved mentor, trusted teacher, sagely Sensei and note worthy leader. He was not to be the accommodating, and oh so gratifying, object of some depraved and debaucherous minded youth. -It’s a pipe dream, get your head out of the clouds.-. A mere fluttering of the eyelids, a mere second to drink in the rapture of such earthly embodiments. But they stirred in her deeper sentiments, deeper cravings of one that too bore such pallor. -Those aren’t clouds my head is stuck in.- The incalescence of such impure thoughts exuded its lecherous heat into her suddenly flushed skin, coloring her cheeks in breathless tinges of rose.
She was adrift upon prolific swells of unheralded adrenaline and drunk upon the ghosts of old memories, so teasingly tainted with the heady enshrined treasures of all too recent recollections. Now, now she could recall the taste of ripened oranges, whose breath had been tinted with its savory perfume. A delicate shudder ran through her limbs, skittered down her spine with warm and lazy hands, spreading its little inklings of propensity. Somewhere within the depths of her a fist clenched tighter, aching and pulsing around feelings and sensations she had no true words for. And with each draught of awareness came a flood of conscious recognition, drawing the tips of her dainty breasts into tight aching pebbles. How they must have protruded, highly pronounced through the material of her dress, but she neither cared nor warranted it the attention an alert mind might have.
She remembered... Uncertain steps carried her through the darkness, into the side room, into the privacy of a small closet, the quarters so cramped and undersized. All coherent thought had long since fled as Sasuke lead her by hand, a mysterious smile stretching his lips, a devilish light in those dark eyes, drowning pools of unreadable elation. Her heart and blood had been so loud in her ears, screaming in panic and joy. All things were blurred and unreal around the edges, this couldn’t be possible happening. She was dreaming again, letting her wistful wanderings take her to places where she’d defied abashment and let her fingers carry her into lewd release.
His hands were rough, insistent as he pushed her back against the cluttered wall, ignoring the small cry that had escaped her pert little mouth, a sense of dark satisfaction churning through his eyes at that tiny plea of pain. The press of his lithe body against her own, molding and fitting snuggly into the crevices of her giving flesh was enough to draw out a low moan. Nestled firmly between her shaking thighs his knee found the softness of her palpitating femininity, forced it up agonizingly slow to rub against the budding flower of her sex.
So prone and helpless, he was mercurial in his movements to take full advantage of that supple and beckoning portal of her mouth. He’d lingered only a moment, hovering breathless over her lips, that sweetly acidic breath whispering across her skin, sending goose bumps scrambling over her arms. The small hairs at the back of her neck electrified as they stood upon end. Just a tiny sensation as his tongue encompassed the sweep of her lower lip, such a scalding euphoric addiction. A faint and indistinguishable whimper sounded deep in her throat, galvanizing him to greater heights. The claiming kiss was neither gentle nor forgiving, eager tongue feeding at her hunger to appease him, swallowing down her wanton voice and tasting the succulent fruits of his labors.
Agile fingers explored her trembling construct of virginal structure, splayed across the expanse of her softly defined ribs, caressing hedonic touches over fragile ill-disposed clothing. She burned inside for more, the influence of his embrace overpowering her senses in arousal, making that secret oasis beneath flow and ebb with every impression branded through his hands, knee and mouth. She was dying, being consumed from the inside out with this fiery need of sensualism. That’s when his fingers found the smooth mound of her breast through the too thin dress, rolling his palm across the tip, coaxing the little stone to rise taut and prepared for the taking should he solicit such actions.
Yes, she remembered.
* * *
He’d long since seen her dangling there on the edge, so lost seeming, listless eyes seeing nothing at all, often vacant and distant. Those eyes froze him down to his very depths, made him huddle that much more down around the warmth of his personal acceptance He wasn’t always happy with life, but he’d accepted the blows and the tears and all the joys and drama it would bring. He’d watched the emotions flow across her face, skitter and run through her eyes in varying degrees of distress. It seemed almost wrong that he could bare witness to such intimate turmoil, and thus he’d continued with his practicing. When the moment was right she’d come to him. Anything else and she might have run in terror, fleeing like a puny rabbit before the gaping maw of the wolf intent upon devouring her.That emotional display had stirred in him, his own roller coasting, the thoughts at the edges of his conscious turning over and over like a leaf caught in the breeze, tumbling head long into an abyss of unknown decisions. But the moment he’d seen undisguised passion fill up those empty spheres and flood down into her skin, tinting it in a deeply set blush, he’d known she was no longer looking at him, but someone else. Or at the least, that was his eternal hope. His foot slide across the grass, a small misstep, but it’d been enough to bring him out of his fluidly executed exercises. Had been enough to bring his body to a full stop and allow both his eyes to unbidden sweep across his suspended student.
The *CRACK* that followed geared him into sudden action, his legs were moving before his mind had even had time to register what had taken place. It’d only taken a few second, his feet hurriedly closing the distance, a short leap and Sakura was in his arms, right side up. He’d entertained the idea of keeping her dangled in either hand by the ankles, it might have disoriented her less in that position but it seemed somehow obscene to have the poor girl so exposed. The edges of his mouth curled in an amused grin, his eyes narrowed down, reflecting back his kind-natured greeting as the girl with the hair of cherry blossoms came round out of her deeper and despairing thoughts.
“Hello, Sakura.” His voice betrayed none of his concern, it only carried through the lighthearted tone that he wanted to bring across. Another foolhardy pitying opinion was not something she needed at the present moment he’d silent agreed with himself. If the darkness had ever been a palpable and touchable thing, it was clear and immediate, rolling off her body in trembling waves, cresting and breaking against whatever obstacle stood in its wake. He pushed back the flutter of despair pulling at his own heartstrings and gently set the girl upon her feet, keeping her close as she seemed unable to properly keep herself upright.
It had seemed an eternity of never-ending moments of decrepit propaganda playing again and again through her mind with nostalgic envy of what was too far away to reach. It’d wrecked its havoc through her heart and body, left her panting and gulping for composure. The solid feel of arms around her, the cool press of naked flesh against her own fevered skin sobered her to her present engagements. She’d been so lost to the whims of her libido that she’d focused too much charka into her feet and exploded the branch that had innocently offered her its support. He’d caught her, his name whispering deceptively comfortingly through the halls of her psyche, Kakashi.
She wrapped her feeble mind around the word and let it sinks down through the icy depths of her inertia pulling back that last dredges of haze and personal chastisement. Somewhere from within her she pulled forth the strength to paint upon her visage that terrible mask she shone to the world, throwing concocted spacklings of her old self into the valueless things she called eyes. “Thank you, Sensei, I wasn’t paying attention.” That small voice held the notes of hardiness he’d come to expect of her, but he knew it was a falsity, a farce of appeasement. See… see… nothing at all wrong here, please please keep walking? The faint bubble of nervous laughter that accompanied her words settled like a lead weight into the pit of his stomach. His hands twitched with the need to do something, anything to drive away the fraudulent representation of exuberance blatantly shoveled at his feet.
Run... run now you wrecked whelp, it was a screeching command echoing hollowly through the vast desolate chambers of her cranium. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to breath past the moment as she rolled her gaze upward, that handsome face so tender and caring despite the harshness of the shadows that obscured his face as if he still wore his own masks. And just like that, she felt the comforting weight of his arms around her, pulling her in closer towards his body in a surprisingly consoling gesture. He knows…. Now you’ve done it. She made to pull away, but the gentle squeeze of his hands, insistent in their mission of solace relaxed the tensions running sharp and agonizing through her limbs. Take what you can, hold it close and don’t let go… it spoke with a child’s vocalizations, so small and tittering on the brink of someone she used to know.
“Don’t give up yet, Sakura,” his voice filled the night, flew with lustrously bedazzling wings through the pitch curtain that fenced her in, carried her higher above the levees of a dark and distilled tide. “There is hope, still, after all Sasuke didn’t kill Naruto after all.” And in those simple words was so much truth that it pained her heart to hear them, speared through already existent pikes laden with the heads of her internal tormentors, gnashing their teeth to the bitter ends of denial. She vaguely felt his body curl around her, the weight of his lips pressed to the top of her head, the faint and sweetly tempered apple scent of her hair filling his senses with the presence of her. And she no longer felt so brittle in his grasps, so unreal and illusive a thing as alike a will-o-wisp leading unwary villagers to their demise.
Though she hadn’t been there, she’d heard all about the fight that had taken place when the five had been sent to rescue Sasuke. Another pang of regret, you’re still annoying. Naruto had promised to bring him back to her, but he’d failed, he’d fought and thrown himself head first into Hell just for her. There had never been any intent within the blonde’s heart to take the life of his closest friend, he’d done the thing the Uchiha had said he couldn’t… he’d left a single deep scratch across the forehead protector. And even the darkly brooding boy had redirected that last fatal blow to somewhere less potent, had resigned himself to a different destiny and not the bloody inheritance that his brother had tried to lay before him. Sasuke had made the choice himself, for good or for bad, she had to see things through to the end, and she had to hold onto whatever speck was left of hope that kindled in her heart. I will love you always, I will wait for you…
Her Sensei went dead still beneath her gently exploring fingers, softly tracing the hard lines of a solid and muscular abdomen. She'd heard his breath catch, and a tiny bit in her hoped that it wasn't in overstated disapproval and outright rejection but an echo of the need within her. She was such a devil, such a teasing vixen, when he was not the object of her desires, merely a shade, a suitable substitute. Her mind dwelt on another, how he could feel like this for her. -Sasuke- Skin like silk beneath her trembling touches, body quivering with the need to roll her cheek that last little bit and brush her lips unbidden across his stomach. The need was maddening to close the distance that would allow her to dip a tiny pink tongue into the shuddering navel, breaths erratic at her ministrations, and taste of his essence. They would such flitting and genial caresses probing lasciviously into the shallow indention, rolling the taste of him across her lips.
"Sakura," Kakashi's voice was calm, puzzled, but it'd taken a measure of time and control for him to respond. He couldn't help the stirrings of his flesh, despite the fact that it was so taboo, so disallowed, but temptingly amicable, like the apple the serpent had dangled before the hapless eyes of Eve. It was fragrantly ripened fruit that should never be consumed, never be even considered. Tauntingly calling for that first tantalizing taste, supplicating the use of tongue and teeth and the whole of one's mouth in the feat of devouring and savoring the forbidden. "What are you doing?"
And all at once, her breath escaped her lips, so delicately sweet and fluent. Her features washed in the light of graying moonbeams and tranquil illuminations coveted in obscurity. Giving her an almost peaceful expression as but a simple word cascaded from that decadent mouth; so very unimportant and singular, but so encompassing and forlorn all in the same breath.
"Dreaming."
A/N: It's been put to me that this story is just one big tease and that I should have ended it properly with a lemon between Kakashi and Sakura, that I'd built up to it and left it at a sadly disappointing point. If anyone else agrees with this please tell me now either through a review or an email and I guess if I get enough requests I'll add in a nice big fat juicy lemon to end it off with as I should have.