Chapter 131: Sarada [7] 18+

Kael woke to an empty bed.

Sarada was gone. The sheets on her side still held the faint shape of her body and the lingering scent of everything he had done to her the night before, but the woman herself had slipped out before sunrise. Eida had not appeared either. For once the mattress held only him. He sat up, rubbed his face, and opened the system window to examine the new reward properly.

[Reward : One-Tomoe Sharingan]

He activated it.

The world sharpened. Edges grew cleaner. The dust motes drifting in the morning light became individual and trackable. He could see the minute flex of the curtain fabric when the air stirred. The description unrolled beneath the glowing tomoe.

[Enhanced Kinetic Vision: The user can track fast-moving objects or opponents much better than a normal human eye.

Basic Movement Perception: It allows the user to perceive the slight muscle twitches of an opponent. This grants a minor predictive edge in hand-to-hand combat, though the user must still possess the physical speed to react to what they see.

Chakra Perception: The user can see the flow of chakra as a color or aura. At the one-tomoe level, this is highly unrefined; they can tell if chakra is present or fluctuating, but they cannot see the intricate chakra pathway system like a Byakugan can.]

Kael turned the ability over in his mind. Even at a single tomoe the advantage was obvious. In a fight the extra fraction of prediction could mean the difference between a clean hit and a fatal one. If he could evolve it further the ceiling would rise dramatically. He already knew better than to flare the eye in public. The Uchiha did not share their bloodline casually; discovery would bring the entire clan down on him with questions he could not afford.

He asked the system the only question that mattered.

"How do I upgrade the Sharingan?"

[Searching for the information]

[Fuck any clan members with special eye powers to upgrade the Sharingan.]

Kael stared at the text for a long second, then smiled. One of those clan members lived on the other side of the wall. The path was almost elegant in its simplicity.

He bathed, dressed, and went out into the village with a short list. By the time he returned the bag in his hand held a coiled leather leash, a pair of simple metal handcuffs, and a few other items chosen specifically to strip another layer of pride from the woman who would be returning that night. He set them in the drawer beside the bed and waited.

Night came.

The knock was quiet, almost reluctant. When he opened the door Sarada stood in the hallway wearing only a thin bathrobe, dark hair loose around her shoulders, expression set in the same stubborn, resentful line it had worn the first time she agreed to take the others’ place. She stepped inside without being asked. The door slid shut behind her.

Kael looked her over. "Open the robe."

For a moment she only stared at him. Then her hands moved to the knot at her waist. The fabric parted. Underneath she wore a plain dark bra and matching panties—nothing decorative, nothing inviting, the bare minimum of coverage she could justify to herself. The marks from the previous night had faded but not vanished completely. Kael’s gaze lingered on them with open satisfaction.

He reached into the drawer and took out the leash.

Sarada’s eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

He did not answer with words. He stepped in, looped the soft leather collar end around her throat, and buckled it with a quiet click. The leash hung down between her breasts. One firm tug brought her forward a step. He used the tension to pull her the rest of the way in and kissed her.

This time she did not turn her head.

The kiss was deep and claiming. Kael kept one hand on the leash and the other on the small of her back, walking her backward until the edge of the bed met her legs. He sat and pulled her down with him so she straddled his lap, still kissing her, tongue sliding against hers while his free hand squeezed the full weight of her breast through the bra. Sarada’s breath hitched into his mouth. He squeezed harder, then dropped the same hand to her ass and gripped the soft curve hard enough to make her hips twitch.

When he finally broke the kiss her lips were swollen and shining. He shifted her just enough to free himself, pulled the crotch of her panties aside, and guided her down onto his cock in one slow, continuous motion. The wet heat of her took him to the root. Sarada’s forehead dropped against his. A low, rough moan left her throat.

"Ahh... nngh..."

He fucked her like that for a long time—face to face, leash held short in one fist so she could not pull away, mouth returning to hers between thrusts. Every upward snap of his hips punched a soft, broken sound out of her. The wet slide of her body accepting him filled the quiet apartment. He kept the bra on simply so he could keep squeezing her through the fabric, thumb dragging across the stiffened nipple until she was arching into the contact despite herself.

When the angle was no longer enough he lifted her off him, turned her, and put her on her hands and knees on the mattress. The leash stayed in his hand. He pushed back inside in a single thrust and set a harder rhythm at once, using the leather to pull her back onto every stroke. The wet, heavy slap of his hips against her ass rang out loud and clear. Each time he drove in he added an open-palmed smack that left the pale skin blooming red.

"Uh... uh... ahh—Naruto... not so hard—"

He pulled the leash tighter, forcing her head up and her back into a deeper arch, and fucked her harder. The rough, rhythmic moans that spilled out of her were raw and continuous now—half protest, half helpless response. He watched the way her ass reddened under his palm, the way the leash kept her exactly where he wanted her, and kept the pace deliberate and deep until the warning tightness gathered at the base of his spine. He buried himself to the hilt and came with a low groan, flooding her in thick pulses while she clenched around him and moaned through the heat of it.

Even before the last tremor faded he was moving again.

Kael pulled out, wiped himself once across the back of her thigh, and reached for the handcuffs. Sarada’s eyes widened when the metal clicked around her wrists. He stood her up, walked her to the clear stretch of wall beside the bed, and hooked the short chain over a sturdy wall fixture high enough that her arms were pulled taut above her head. The position left her stretched and open, toes just touching the floor. The leash still hung from her throat.

He stepped in behind her, kicked her feet further apart, and pushed back inside in one smooth thrust. Sarada’s moan cracked into a higher, rougher sound as he filled her again. Kael gripped her hips, pulled the leash short enough to keep her arched, and began to fuck her against the wall with steady, powerful strokes. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room once more. Every thrust drove a raw, open-mouthed moan from her throat.

"Ahh—! Haa... nngh... wait... ahh—"

He did not wait. He fucked her like that—cuffed, leashed, stretched against the wall—while the night settled fully over the village outside and the newly awakened tomoe in his eye waited for the next piece of the Uchiha bloodline that would make it stronger. Sarada’s rough, broken moans continued without pause, the sound of a woman who had agreed to take the place of others and was still discovering exactly how thoroughly that agreement would be collected.

Kael leaned in, bit the side of her neck hard enough to leave a mark, and kept thrusting.

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