Chapter 110: Sumire [2] (18+)

The apartment was dark except for the low light from the kitchen when Kael slid the door open. The smell of warm rice and miso met him first. Sumire stood beside the low table, two covered bowls set neatly in front of her, hands folded as if she had been caught doing something she had not fully planned.

"Hey," Kael said, closing the door behind him. "What are you doing here?"

She glanced up, a flicker of nerves crossing her face. "I made dinner for us—well, for everyone—and I thought I should bring you some too. Your door was open, so I decided to leave it inside."

Kael set his keys down and studied her. The braids that usually hung past her waist had been loosely redone; a few strands had escaped and clung to her neck. She looked like she had been standing there longer than a simple delivery required.

"What time did you get here?"

Sumire’s answer came a little too quickly. "Thirty minutes ago."

He smiled, slow and knowing. "So you were waiting for me."

Color rose in her cheeks. "It’s not like that. It’s just... what we did yesterday has been on my mind. I wanted to talk about it."

Kael crossed the small space without hurry. When he reached her he set his hands on her waist and lifted her easily, settling her on the edge of the table so her feet no longer touched the floor. Sumire’s hands came up to his shoulders for balance. He leaned in and kissed her.

She kissed him back almost at once, the same hesitant hunger from the day before. The bowls of food sat forgotten beside them. Kael deepened the kiss, tasting the faint green-tea sweetness on her tongue, and felt her soft sound of surprise melt into something lower. His fingers worked the buttons of his own shirt first, shrugging it off, then moved to hers. The fabric parted. Sumire’s hands flew up to cover her bare breasts out of instinct.

"Let me see," he murmured against her mouth.

He guided her wrists down. The pale skin of her chest was already flushed where his gaze lingered. He cupped both soft weights, thumbs brushing the tightening peaks, then bent and took one nipple into his mouth. Sumire’s breath caught sharply.

"Ah—"

He sucked slowly, tongue circling, then drew harder. The sensitive flesh under his lips turned a vivid pink almost at once. Wherever he touched her, the same bright flush followed—her skin broadcasting every point of contact. He moved to the other breast and gave it the same attention, pinching the first nipple lightly between his fingers while he sucked. Sumire’s head tipped back, a longer moan slipping free.

"Nngh... Naruto..."

Kael’s hand slid down her stomach and under the waistband of her skirt. He found the edge of her panties and tugged them down her thighs. Sumire lifted her hips to help, then froze when the cool air touched her.

"Wait," she whispered, voice unsteady. "Naruto... what if we mess up the timelines?"

He kissed the words from her mouth. "Fuck the timeline."

He freed himself, stepped between her parted knees, and guided the head of his cock against her entrance. She was wet, but tight—clearly untouched. He pushed forward slowly, watching her face. Sumire’s eyes went wide; her fingers dug into his shoulders. A thin, high sound left her throat as he stretched her open inch by careful inch.

"Ah—hhah—slow—"

"I’ve got you." He bottomed out and held still, giving her body time to adjust. The heat of her around him was almost unbearable. When the tension in her thighs eased a fraction he began to move—short, shallow strokes at first, then longer ones as her body yielded. The wet sound of their joining filled the quiet apartment. Sumire’s moans stayed soft and broken, each one punched out of her on the deeper thrusts.

"Uh... uh... nngh—"

Kael leaned down and took her breast into his mouth again while he fucked her on the table, sucking hard enough to leave the pale skin red and shining. Her back arched. The table creaked under the steady rhythm. He could feel her growing wetter, the initial discomfort melting into something hotter. Her legs wrapped loosely around his hips, heels pressing against the backs of his thighs as if she could not decide whether to pull him closer or brace against the depth.

He picked up the pace. The wet slap of skin on skin grew louder. Sumire’s moans rose with it—higher, less controlled.

"Ah—ah—Naruto—it’s too much—"

He hooked his hands under her knees and pushed her legs up and back until her calves rested on his shoulders. The new angle let him drive deeper. Sumire’s eyes flew open; a raw cry tore from her throat. He fucked her like that on the tabletop—long, powerful strokes that made her breasts bounce and the flush on her skin spread down her stomach. Every time he bottomed out she clenched around him with a helpless, fluttering pressure.

"Haa—ah—nngh—fuck—"

The word startled them both. Sumire’s face burned, but she did not take it back. Kael kept the rhythm, watching the way her pale body marked so easily under his hands and mouth—red fingerprints on her hips, darker circles around her nipples, the bright flush across her chest. She was beautiful in her sensitivity, every reaction honest and unguarded.

When her moans started to turn shaky he pulled her up off the table in one smooth motion. Her legs locked around his waist automatically. He carried her the short distance to the nearest clear wall, braced her back against it, and thrust up into her in the same continuous rhythm. Stand-and-carry. The angle made her even tighter. Sumire’s arms wound around his neck; her forehead dropped against his. They kissed messily between thrusts, her soft cries spilling into his mouth.

"Uh... uh...—please—"

Kael gave her what she asked for, hips rolling in steady, deep strokes that kept her pinned and full. The wet sounds of their bodies filled the apartment. Sweat slicked the places where they pressed together. Sumire’s braids swung with every upward thrust; her pale skin glowed red wherever he had touched her. She was close—he could feel the fluttering tension coiling tighter around him with every stroke.

He did not stop.

He fucked her against the wall until her moans broke into a continuous, high, breathless chain, until her nails dug into his shoulders and her whole body went rigid. She came with a sharp, startled cry, clenching hard around him in pulsing waves. Kael followed a few thrusts later, burying himself to the hilt and spilling deep inside her with a low groan against her neck.

They stayed locked together while the aftershocks faded. Sumire’s breathing was ragged against his ear. Her legs trembled around his waist. Kael pressed a slower, softer kiss to the corner of her mouth, then another to her flushed cheek.

The bowls of dinner on the table had long gone cold. The apartment was quiet except for the sound of their breathing. Outside, night had fully settled over Konoha. Inside, Sumire rested her forehead against his shoulder and did not ask him to put her down.

The timeline could wait.

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