Chapter 186: Mother [6] 18+

Kael woke to an empty bed. The sheets on Kushina’s side were cool. For a moment he simply lay there, listening. Soft sounds drifted up from downstairs—the clink of dishes, the low hiss of something cooking, the quiet shift of bare feet on the wooden floor. He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and stood. He didn’t bother with clothes. The house was quiet except for her, and Minato was still away on his mission. There was no one else to see.

He padded down the stairs naked. Morning light slanted through the kitchen windows and caught the red of Kushina’s hair as she moved between the counter and the stove. She wore a simple house dress, the kind she always put on when she cooked, the skirt falling just past her knees. When she turned and saw him her eyes widened for half a second.

"Oh. You’re up." Her gaze flicked down his body and then away almost immediately, as if she could pretend the evidence of last night wasn’t standing right there in front of her. "I made breakfast. Go put something on."

Kael kept walking toward her. The wooden floor was cool under his feet. She busied herself with a pan, shoulders tight.

"Still trying to act like a mother, huh?"

He stepped in close behind her. One hand settled on her hip. The other gathered the hem of her skirt and drew it upward in a slow, deliberate slide. Cool air touched the backs of her thighs. She froze.

"Naruto—wait. Enough. We said yesterday was the last time."

"You said that," he answered, mouth close to the curve of her neck. "I didn’t."

He pressed a soft kiss just below her ear. Kushina twisted away, skirt still caught in his hand, and put the counter between them.

"Enough. I mean it this time. We are not doing this again."

Kael only looked at her for a moment. Then he closed the distance in two steps, hooked an arm around her waist, and lifted. Kushina made a startled sound as her feet left the floor. He set her on the edge of the kitchen table in one smooth motion, the wood cool against the backs of her thighs. Before she could scramble down he was already between her knees, pushing the skirt the rest of the way up to her waist. Her panties were plain cotton, already a little damp. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and drew them down her legs, dropping them somewhere on the floor behind him.

"Naruto—no—"

He lined himself up and pushed in.

The first stroke was slow, almost careful, but it still stole the air from her lungs. Kushina’s hands flew to his shoulders. Her mouth opened on a broken sound that might have been another protest and might have been something else entirely. Kael braced his hands on the tabletop on either side of her waist and leaned in, settling into a steady rhythm. The chef position let him watch every flicker of expression that crossed her face—the way her eyes squeezed shut, the way her lower lip caught between her teeth, the flush that climbed her throat.

"This is wrong," she whispered. The words came out thin. "We can’t... ah—"

He rolled his hips and she cut off with a sharper moan. The table creaked under them. Wet sounds began to fill the kitchen—soft at first, then clearer with every thrust. Schlick... schlick... The smell of breakfast mixed with the heavier scent of sex. Kushina’s fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulders. Her legs hovered in the air for a moment before instinct took over and she hooked her heels loosely behind his thighs.

Kael kept the pace measured but deep. Each stroke bottomed out inside her and dragged back slowly enough that she felt every inch. Her protests grew quieter, broken up by the involuntary sounds he pulled from her throat. "No... Naruto... we said—ah—last time—" The words lost their shape. Her head tipped back. The morning light caught the sheen of sweat starting to form at the hollow of her throat.

He leaned farther forward, chest nearly brushing hers, and kissed the side of her neck while his hips kept working. Kushina’s arms slid up around his neck almost without her noticing. The new angle let him grind deeper. Her breath hitched on every other thrust. The table edge bit into the backs of her thighs; she didn’t seem to care. Soft, rhythmic "uh... uh... uh..." sounds slipped out of her in time with his movements. When he angled up sharply she made a higher, cracked noise and her inner walls fluttered hard around him.

Minutes stretched. The pan on the stove began to smoke faintly; neither of them reached to turn it off. Kael’s hands stayed braced on the wood, muscles in his arms flexing with every push. Kushina’s skirt was bunched uselessly around her waist. Her bare heels pressed into the backs of his legs. She was still saying no, but the word had become little more than a breath, and her body kept rising to meet him.

When he felt her start to tighten he slowed deliberately, drawing it out, until she was trembling on the edge. Only then did he pick the rhythm back up—harder, shorter strokes that made the table rock. Kushina came with a long, shuddering moan that broke halfway into a gasp. Her legs clamped around him. Her fingers twisted in his hair. He fucked her through it without stopping, watching the way her face went slack and open, the way her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth.

He didn’t let her come all the way down. While she was still sensitive and shaking he shifted their positions. He guided her to sit more fully on the edge of the table, then took one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder. The other he bent at the knee and rested against his thigh. His hands slid under her ass, lifting and steadying her so he could thrust up into the new angle. Kushina’s hands went back behind her for balance, palms flat on the wood. The change made everything tighter, deeper. She cried out—raw and startled—and her free foot flexed hard against the air.

"Naruto—too much—"

He only gripped her tighter and kept moving. The wet sound of their bodies meeting was louder now, almost obscene in the quiet kitchen. Every upward thrust lifted her slightly off the table; every withdrawal let her settle again. Kushina’s head fell back. Her breasts moved with the force of his hips under the thin fabric of the dress. Soft, broken moans poured out of her without pause. When he leaned in and bit gently at the inside of her raised knee she made a helpless little sound that went straight through him.

He stayed in that position until her arms began to shake from holding her weight. Then he shifted once more. Both of her legs went over his shoulders this time. He stepped in closer, arms wrapping around her lower back, pulling her hips tight against him so there was almost no space left between their bodies. The new depth made Kushina’s eyes fly open. A high, wordless cry left her throat. Kael held her there and fucked her in short, powerful strokes, using the strength in his arms to keep her exactly where he wanted her.

The kitchen filled with the sounds of it—skin meeting skin, the creak of the table, Kushina’s voice rising and falling in broken fragments of his name and the word no that no longer carried any real weight. Her fingers scrabbled at his back, then at his shoulders, then simply held on. Sweat slicked the place where their stomachs brushed. He could feel her starting to tighten again, the fluttering heat of another orgasm building fast.

"You’re still trying to pretend this isn’t what you want," he said against her ear, voice rough. "But look at you."

Kushina shook her head, but the motion was weak. Her mouth stayed open. Soft, continuous sounds spilled out of her—ah... ah... ah—timed to every thrust. When the climax finally took her it hit harder than the first. Her whole body arched. A long, shattered moan tore out of her throat. Her inner walls clamped down around him in rhythmic pulses. Kael groaned and drove in deep one last time, holding her locked against him as he came.

Heat flooded her. Kushina’s eyes went glassy. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth without her seeming to notice, a helpless, instinctive response to the intensity of being filled. Kael stayed buried to the hilt, hips twitching with the last pulses, watching the way her face looked in that moment—flushed, open, completely undone. A thin thread of saliva connected her lower lip to the tip of her tongue. She didn’t close her mouth until the aftershocks began to fade.

Only then did he ease back. Kushina’s legs slid down from his shoulders, trembling. She stayed sitting on the edge of the table, dress still rucked up around her waist, bare and wet and marked by him. Breakfast had burned. The kitchen smelled of smoke and sex. Neither of them moved to open a window.

Kael rested his hands on the table on either side of her hips and simply looked at her while their breathing slowed. Kushina’s gaze stayed somewhere past his shoulder. Her tongue had disappeared back into her mouth, but the flush across her cheeks and chest remained. Outside, the village was waking up. Inside the kitchen the only sound left was the soft drip of something still cooking on the forgotten stove and the uneven catch of her breath.

He brushed a strand of red hair away from her face with the back of one finger. She didn’t pull away.

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