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Sakura
--»——————⋆◦★◦⋆——————«-- It has officially been the longest, most arduous day since Sakura became a co-ruler with Lord Gortash. Well, okay- That might have been true if she didn’t tell herself that very thing every single day. Paperwork upon mountains of more paperwork overflowed onto her mahogany desk. Dim, fading light from the lantern flickered across the mess, an indication that it was soon time to turn in for the night. She held one file in her mildly burnt hand; a result from spilling hot coffee over it earlier in a sleepy stupor. Sorcerous Sundries submitted a claim for a break and entry. The building needed to be secured, so, of course, they implored the council to fund the repairs as it creates a risk of someone sneaking in to steal their ‘top secret’ tomes and forbidden scrolls. Tolna wouldn’t dare divulge more as to what that entailed. Sakura’s tired eyes made it half way through the line items before she began doodling on the back of a memo pad. First, a caricature of Lorroakan lying on a sofa, then a dagger protruding from his chest with blood spilling onto the floor. Her mind wandered, attention falling on a vase of Nightshades that sat on her desk. It has been a few months since she stood against Bhaal and rejected him as a deity. A shiver ran down her spine while thinking about how he killed her- she was dead for a brief period before being brought back to life by Jergal himself. No longer a heretic, yet still an unholy assassin in many ways. The Nightshades were a gift from Shadowheart as a commemoration of a new life, a new beginning. She was now to a point that she couldn’t focus on her work and she needed to unwind. From time to time, she would stop by The Blushing Mermaid to do some dancing. Not only did it provide some extra cash on the side, it was a great way to relax while having fun. She walked over to her wardrobe, opening the door to reveal her -now- wide array of selections. It was hard to imagine that just mere months ago she was living off of meagre rations and just had the clothes on her back. After becoming Gortash’s co-ruler, that changed significantly. She had to dress for balls, business meetings, public appearances, the whole lot. Her eyes fell on her favourite piece; The Rich Dress that she had purchased from Facemaker’s Boutique. It was the first non-armor article of clothing that she had purchased since settling back in to Baldur’s Gate. Retiring her blouse and dress pants to a hamper, she shimmed in to the black dress with beautiful crimson embroidery. The hip-cut slit and low neck was extremely flattering, something she wasn’t used to.
After taking some time to brush out her silky raven black hair, she tied it back into a neat bun and let her bangs fall over to each side of her face. Charcoal coloured mascara and liner were delicately applied around her aquamarine eyes while an enticing Merlot lipstick was chosen for her lips to compliment the embroidery on the dress. This will do. Most of the patrons will be intoxicated and likely won’t pay too much attention to her makeup. Sakura snuffed out the lantern and began lacing up her elegant knee-high shoes. An hour or two should be more than enough time to wind down.
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The stench of cheap ale and questionable substances greeted her at the bar. Bosun hobbled to the counter, raising a tankard towards her in acknowledgement. His ashen hair was plastered to his head slightly, a tell tale sign that he may have snuck in a drink or two while on the job. “Lovely ni’ ain’t it? Yer here for more dancin’?” She paused on the first step of the wooden staircase to respond to him, hand stilling on the rail that led to the second floor. “You know it. I’ll just be around for a couple of hours...” Trailing off she looked around. Might even be less than that. It wasn’t too busy tonight, maybe a dozen or so people, give or take. “Come upstairs for the show, if you get the chance!” He winked, refilling his tankard on the sly and waved her off.
It was the same story upstairs as it was on the first floor; a handful of tables seated companions slamming down drinks and talking very loudly over each other. She ignored their obnoxious slurs, after all, she was here just to dance and have fun. Turning on the music, the stage was graced with her presence as she held her head high, striding to the pole in the middle of the platform. Sakura’s poise couldn’t be outmatched and her confidence never failed to turn most of the heads in the room. She started to dance, but it wasn’t like anything else the patrons had seen tonight. The other performers who had taken the stage were shaking their most popular bits and not doing much else. But Sakura, she truly danced. Her body melted like liquid to match the beat. Climbing and slithering between one pole and the next, her shoes barely kissed the stage. She fell back against a pole and one person in the audience gasped, coming halfway to his feet like he could catch her. But she knew exactly where she was on the stage and that pole fetched up right between her shoulder blades and supported her. She reached over her head and flipped up. Muscles in her slender arms rippled as she ended effortlessly upside down, her legs in a wide straddle to each side of the pole, toes pointed. The talented human wasn’t even breathing hard, like she did this every day since childhood; though that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Two onlookers pulled chairs up to the stage with flourish, their cheeks a hearty red and eyes half mast from the liquor. “They don’t let you touch less’ you’re tucking a gold in.” One of them roared delightedly, slapping a sack of coin on the stage. She turned and strutted over, bending deep to give them a big smile before retrieving the bag of coin. In one fluid motion, she swung the pouch over a shoulder and swayed her hips in a twist to return to the pole. “Sorry friends, no touching on stage. If you want that sort of service, please go to Sharess Caress.” She winked, feeling an unease settle in the pit of her stomach when a man continued to stare at her with intent. He clearly wasn’t listening, reaching out to grab her ass. In a split second, a glimmering gauntleted hand snapped forward to catch the patron’s wrist. His face may have been hidden by shadows, but Sakura knew that golden gauntlet anywhere; the very same that now had an empty centre due to removal of its Netherstone. A sense of relief flooded her to see that he had stopped the man while mid-attempt at groping. There was no doubt that she could have handled it herself, but from time to time she still takes things a little too far with her residual dark urges. “She said no touching.” His voice was thick and intimidating, even authoritative. “I suggest you leave before I have my Steel Watch throw you in prison for sexual harassment.”
“B-but Lord Gortash, we paid her to-” The culprit stammered, wincing when Enver’s grip tightened at the wrist. The tips of the claw dug into his skin, a threat of what was to come if the man didn’t relent.
“F-fine. Let’s get out of here...” Hauling his hand to his chest, he staggered backwards and made it for the stairs to exit the bar. The tyrant looked after them, folding his arms across his chest in disapproval until he knew for certain that they were out of the establishment. His focus returned to his co-ruler with a hint of admiration and awe in his eye. He was not aware of her past-time hobbies until tonight... Intrigue blossomed. Now that both chairs up front were vacant, the Ex-Banite took a seat, stretching out a leg to relax and enjoy the show.
Feeling thankful, she nodded in appreciation before continuing. Warmth flooded her chest, it wasn’t just his actions that caused it, there was a slight embarrassment as well. They were very close on a general level, but this part of her life was still private to him. Climbing to the top of the pole, she curved and bent her body parts in calculated positions to make it seem like she was unfolding as she worked her way down. Gortash caught himself before his mouth fell agape. It was seamless. Perfect. The way she just locked her legs around that pole, the way her taut thighs squeezed the metal... It woke something up in him that had been limp and dead since his unholy assassin was taken from him and had her memories stripped. Then she let go. The tyrant swore, his abs jerking in sympathetic-panic as he expected to see her fall straight down on her pretty head. But instead she stayed locked in place just by the sheer strength of her hamstrings, her arms circling beautifully, trailing through the air with an easy flourish. She gripped the pole over her head and flipped down. Then she began running, skipping, and twirling as the music reached its crescendo. His head started get light with how long it’d been since he last breathed. Enver snatched up his whiskey, taking a long, flat swallow. It was still cold on the rocks, but his throat was so dry he half-expected it to turn to steam. Someone else in the audience approached the stage, dropping to both knees in front of her. “Blossom!” They cried out, what Enver assumed to be, her stage name. “When will you release me from my anguish and torment and give me a lap dance?” She swatted at them playfully, but there was a growing undertone of annoyance. “Quiet, you bunch of assholes or I’m going to revoke those beers.” This got her a chorus of moans of feigned pain and fat tips tossed onto the platform. The men, women, and other identities here loved it when she busted their balls. It was one of the most fun parts of performing. She had a decent amount of sass. It energized her, coming here to perform and getting to talk back to anyone in sight, no matter how big or small. Hells, most of them tipped her more because of it and the few fragile egos that didn’t care for it, well…she was backed up by a pair of bouncers whose affection she kept well-lubricated with portions of her tips.
However, the request for a lap dance riled up the crowd beyond imagination. A few more inebriated people walked up to the stage now laying large sacks of coin there, requesting one. Gods, what is up with them tonight. This has never happened. “Now now. Be nice and I won’t rip your spleen out to use it as a stress ball.” Strike 2 has already arrived. Unease settled in her stomach again as her eyes darted around to the corners of the room. Where were her bouncers? Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen them when she came in either. The knot that formed moved to lodge in her throat. Fighting here may affect her ability to come back, which she didn’t want one rotten night of misfortune to overwrite future opportunities. Clearly being the only one who could read the room, Enver cleared his throat, setting the biggest lot of gold on the stage, causing everyone’s attention to snap to him. “My apologies folks. I already have an arrangement with her tonight. The next round of drinks are on me.”
Disbelief rang through them as they turned to Sakura, expecting a different answer. She quickly seized the escape without hesitation. “Yes, I already have a packed schedule tonight. Please help yourselves to another round of drinks.”
The Tyrant extended a hand to her as an offering to help her off the stage. She slid her fingers in over his palm, stepping down until they were level with each other. The eyes of the onlookers didn’t leave them, so Gortash wrapped an arm along her waist, escorting her until they were outside in the fresh night’s air of the Gate.
They started back towards Wyrm’s Rock, a silence looming over them for a while. Sakura knew that she had to properly thank him, but she needed to take time to breathe first. “Do you frequent the Blushing Mermaid often?” Enver was the first to speak, flexing the wrist that latched on to the man whom he practically threw out of the bar. The grip had been harder than he expected, an ache took residence there once the adrenaline started to wear off. Her muscles were finally starting to release the tension. There was a large sense of relief from knowing she didn’t have to fight her way out of the bar tonight. “I go there every now and again to dance and relieve some stress from work. I assume you visit to decompress too?” Gortash was never one to be at a loss for words, but he was taking time to be careful in his response. Sakura was still his nearest and dearest, however, they were no longer exclusive like they had been before Orin tadpoled her and stowed her away on the Nautiloid. Not that she remembered any of it, but he didn’t want to pursue her unless she chose it for herself, out of respect for what she went through. It was a lot for even the strongest of people. If anything, they only casually sought each other out from time to time as of recent. “Much like yourself, I do come here to decompress and sometimes find company.”
Wait, does he think...? Sakura nearly choked on her own saliva. “Not to give you the wrong impression, but I solely visit there to dance and maybe make a few tips... I don’t seek the townsfolk.”
He paused in a moment of curiosity, looking up at the stars as they walked the cobblestone streets. “You don’t get lonely? Even if we aren’t contemplating the minutia of death cult office politics anymore, our line of work doesn’t leave much time for other indulgences.” It would be difficult to argue that point. Wyll had left for Avernus with Karlach and, unfortunately, they weren’t able to save Duke Ravengard’s soul. It was just Sakura and Enver left to rule over the gate with a handful of servants and a decimated platoon of Flaming Fists. “Lonely?” She breathed, contemplating his question. “The company that you provide me throughout the week is more than enough.” Her cheeks flushed instantly at how easily that admittance came out and how it could have been misconstrued without proper context. He may be overbearing and strict at times; nonetheless she enjoyed being in his presence. She missed her travel companions immensely, but they have their own path to follow in life and sometimes it doesn’t overlap with hers. A smug smirk upturned onto Gortash’s lips, leading to a stubbornly brazen dimple in his right cheek. They stopped in front of the draw-bridge extending in to the crossing where two Steel Watch stood guard. It was otherwise quiet since it was midnight.
The dark blues of the tyrant’s eyes swirled in the moonlight while his soft black hair slightly fell in front of them, styled with artful mess, softening his expression. The stars almost seemed attracted to him, caressing his cheekbones and brows like a lover. A tingling sense of awareness swept down Sakura’s spine, causing tiny bumps to form on her skin. Enver’s gaze lifted and their eyes connected. Air whooshed from her lungs and the entire world around them suddenly disappeared. Her heart thumped heavily, legs feeling strange, which certainly wasn’t from dancing, and her pulse fluttered. “I haven’t done it yet, but I wanted to thank you-” She manged hoarsely, mouth going dry as a coil formed in her lower abdomen. Gortash watched her subtle gulp with interest and it nearly made her heart skip a beat. “You didn’t have to, but you did me a solid back there.” He let out a genuine chuckle that made her chest squeeze. Nothing was more attractive on a man than a sincere smile. “Wouldn’t want anything happening to my nearest and dearest.” Being called that did something to her. Not only did it feel right, it felt nostalgic in a craving sort of way. “Let me fulfill that little ‘arrangement’ that we supposedly had scheduled tonight.” She bit her lower lip, knowing that he wasn’t expecting it and had only used that coin to get her out of a predicament. It had been a while since they enjoyed each other’s presence and she wanted it... If he were interested in doing the same. His brows raised in amusement and surprise. “You want to give me a lap dance?” “I do.” She confirmed hastily with a newfound confidence that sent a shudder through him. He offered a hand to her, similar to how he had when helping her down from the stage. Despite the roughness of the calloused hands that always worked diligently on his tinkering projects, they had softness to them that was hard to describe. “Then I’d simply be a fool to refuse.” Accepting the gesture, they entered Wyrm’s crossing together. --»——————⋆◦★◦⋆——————«--
Reaching Sakura’s private chambers, they walked across the slate coloured tiles into a space where a pearly hued settee and two wide chairs upholstered in a grey cushion are situated to the right of the room. To the left, a chaise lounge is positioned in front of a lattice divider. Through a rounded archway to the right, it leads to her bedroom. Setting one of the armless upholstered chairs in the middle of her lounge, she motioned him to sit while she started the music. The delicate needle set in place on her record player to initiate a smooth, sensual tune. Enver tossed his elaborate overcoat on the settee and sat on the cushioned chair. His legs sprawled until he was comfortable, eyeing her with profound anticipation. Much to his dismay, his palms were becoming sweaty... That’s how much he was looking forward to spending this time with her. It was partly to do with the fact that she offered a lap dance, but mostly because he missed being with her like this. She was just as fluid up close as she was on a stage. Her body leaned close to his, then away again. His lungs squeezed empty before gulping for air. Her proximity was affecting the gravity of his very organs... As if she were his moon controlling the tides of his very soul. The tyrants head swam to the point he had to wonder if one of the patrons at Blushing Mermaid had put something in his whisky. The stiffness that had gathered on her face while they were at the bar loosened. She really got into the dancing then, her bare inner thighs brushing his pants. That flounce of a dress of hers threatened to reveal her panties with every flip of her hips. He tried not to stare at the edge of its slit. And failed. Good gods, she touched him, too. Fingertips traced his chest through the loose neck of his tunic, eliciting a shallow breath from him. Then she brushed his unruly midnight hair back from his face. Soft touches. Gentle touches. He felt like he was coming apart, like his chest was filling up to capacity. A strange sense of light-headedness washed over him, so strong that he may fall out of the chair like a heavy peace of lead. Enver thought he might need to be retrained. He grabbed the chair underneath him, gripping until his forearms ached and the tips of the gauntlets started splintering the wood because he didn’t want to forget himself and reach for her. To make her uncomfortable. On stage she had said no touching and, though she wasn’t on stage anymore, he didn’t want to ruin whatever this was. He glanced down, finding she had stopped dancing and was staring at his fisted hands, strangling the chair. “Relax.” She ran her slender fingers up his forearms, sending all his nerve endings jangling. “Trying not to touch me?” she asked, that soft little smile coming back. Sakura knelt before him with such a graceful movement she hardly seemed to weigh a thing. “I can help with that...” Turning with a smirk, she strutted over to her little wardrobe, hauling out the middle drawer and withdrawing a pair of leather handcuffs. His eyes followed her until she disappeared behind his peripheral. Leaning over his back, she reached for his hands to move them behind the chair. The soft heat of her breath on his neck almost made him throb as much as being cuffed. A strangled noise came form Enver, not having delved too deeply into this side of his co-ruler. Even when she was still until Bhaal’s watch, pre-tadpole days, her dominate side never involved cuffing. His skin was so flushed and hot. It must be turning purple, it had to be. He did not want her down there close to his crotch; There was no doubt that he erected a tentpole halfway to Elysium. He hardly heard her over the stampeding of his pulse. She buried her hands in her own hair, arching her back as she proceeded to sway her hips on his lap. He struggled to hide the fact that he lost his breath. Her body moved closer to his, like it was magnetized. Quivering, sliding in a languorous roll just millimetres away from the ever-growing bulge. Enver swore, low and awed, but it just made her smile more. Her hands flickered over him, soft, like a breeze. There and then gone again. His whole body ached for more, his muscles drawing up tense, wrists straining against the cuffs. They were flimsy pieces of metal, but he refused to break them in this moment. Sakura slowly slid out of her dress, swinging it over her head and tossing it playfully at his face. He skilfully caught it with his teeth, breath quickening while watching her strip further. The deep blue of his eyes were quickly turning into a lustrous black. This was becoming quite the erotic lap dance. “Are you good with me touching you a little more?” The seductress hummed, placing an innocent finger on one of her dimples. He dragged that damned bottom lip through his teeth and nodded. She pushed open his tunic, her hands cool against his overheated chest. This time, when she started to dance, she leaned forward enough that her breasts rubbed all the way up him. Her nipples were two hard peaks, scraping lines up the dusting of hairs of his chest. He swore they left red-hot trails of lava behind. There was a little sound, breath-catching in the back of her throat. Then she was in his lap, his thighs brushing her bare legs to readjust. He didn’t want his erection to get in the way. The unholy assassin couldn’t stop focusing on the awed way those midnight blue-black eyes had peeked up at her through his lush lashes. Shoulders so wide and muscles firm-looking through his thin shirt. Those large, veiny rough hands of his and their strength as they held tight against the cuffs. She imagined him pinning her wrists to this wall above her head, leaning his weight against her. The way his breathing went ragged every time he looked at her nearly drove her mad. Sakura clenched her teeth, trying to fight the burn of arousal that was raging through her whole body, making her twitchy and reckless. Her fingers frigged harder as she imagined him lowering that zipper himself, taking out the thick cock she'd spied through his pants. The muscles in his back and ass suddenly reminded her… He could fuck her like a gods damned freight train. The thick muscles in his legs tensed like he was about to use them to drive into her. She wanted to curl into that lap and tuck her head under his chin. She wanted to straddle him and grind against that bulge growing in his pants. She wanted to run her nails down his chest and listen to him gasp. She could sense every inch of his body from anywhere in the room and it made her head feel fuzzy; it was full of steam. She flipped her hair back and let herself touch him. A fingertip up that sharp jawline, the soft-bristly texture of his stubble making even her finger feel erotic, somehow. She traced his lips and he watched her with an unblinking intensity that made all her exposed skin tingle as if it had just been touched. Or... wanted to be touched. “When I get out of here...” The tyrant rasped with a groan so full of longing that it left her spine rigid. “I’m going to pin you against every surface and fuck you, Mya Vaelahrn...” The tilt of his head was almost animalistic; predatory. Sakura’s heart dripped a little at the unexpected Elvish expression... Well, if she was being honest, that wasn’t the only thing that dripped. “Your queen...?” A disturbing rush of silky heat appeared upon hearing that heated threat. She shifted in his lap to straddle him the way she had been imagining earlier. The sound of a low sensual growl came from him, the kind that was borderline guttural. Tiny hairs on the back of Sakura’s nick prickled with an accumulating excitement. Enver’s length was throbbing against the confines of his pants. His sharp eyes tracked the stands of her hair that fell in front of her breasts, his chest rose and fell rapidly.
When her hips moved in a grind against him, all she could manage was a breath. That was all. One single, short breath. The both of them shuddered, dual bursts of pleasure that bordered on pain. Enver’s entire body jerked as he involuntarily had a ruined orgasm. “Reckless...” He purred, lips turning up into a smirk before he snapped the chain of the cuffs in half. “Tell me I can touch you, Mya Vaelahrn. Please...” It wasn’t so much begging as it was a deep seeded need. The ‘please’ nearly melted her on the spot. “Yes...!” Then Enver was on Sakura, a hand buried in her hair, tugging her head back. He struck as fast as a starving viper. His lips were on her neck while he gripped her ass and she shook at his intensity. The tyrant pressed into her, standing and moving her back to pin her to a wall. She gripped his arms, nails digging into his hot skin. There was no where to go; no escape. A gasp built in her throat, but there was no air to give it life, being unable to breathe through the fire clawing away at her insides. Her back bowed against the wall when his teeth grazed along her sensitive skin, nipping and leaving small marks on the Unholy Assassin. The vice-like grip on her hip eased as the other hand curled around the rear of her scalp. The kisses along her neck transformed, becoming something else entirely. Something overwhelming and powerful. The burn of his mouth as he greedily made way to her jawline built to a sudden throbbing ache in Sakura’s blood, settling into her breasts and between her thighs. The strength of it, the pounding rush, was shocking and invaded her muscles until they curled and spun. Enver groaned, pushing into her wildly and thrusting a thigh between her legs. She fully felt him then, long and thick against her lower stomach. “I’m going to do exactly what I told you I’d do if I got free from those cuffs.” His voice was thick with smokey desire. His dearest shuddered as a rush of damp heat flooded through her. Her eyes fluttered, head falling back against the wall, cushioned by his hand. She moaned and he sucked hard against her throat to leave another bruise. The tug could be felt all the way to her core. Her hands ran through his hair, pulling him in closer and becoming lost in the intensity building in her body. Sakura moved without thought, rocking against the hard length of the thigh he’d wedged between her legs. The tension inside of her erupted without warning, the pleasure sweeping out in devastating waves. She trembled and shook as she rode the powerful release. Panting and gasping for breath, she shuddered until the ripples dissipated. His hand reached lower on her ass, the sensation canvassing her in tingles. Her heart raced when he let go, fumbling for the flap on the front of his pants, letting out a deep, rumbling growl. The sound scorched her ears, sending another tear of arousal through her. She wanted to feel more... Wanted to feel him. The decadent lips detached from her neck as he pulled back. Sakura looked up, only to be met by the dark desire that swirled in the tyrants eyes. Her gaze moved lower to his defined chest that protruded from his tunic and lowered still towards his tightly coiled stomach muscles that were visible through the form-fitting shirt. When her attention sank lower than his V-line, she felt a little weak in the knees. The throbbing length of his cock stuck out from the confines of his pants and the head jutted up towards his navel. The tip beaded pearly liquid as it twitched. Enver’s hand slid from her hair and reached to remove his tunic. Dark hairs jostled free once the fabric was removed and those fine pecs of his were begging to be touched. He curled his fingers around her chin, tilting her head gentley until their eyes connected again. His other hand, being large enough, clasped both of her wrists and pinned them over her head. “Sakura...” He nearly whispered, trailing the fingers that curled her chin down her breasts to her stomach, watching the skin prickle in the wake of his touch. His chest rose and fell rapidly, inching his digits lower and into his co-ruler’s wet heat. They teasingly dipped inside, swirling at the bundle of nerves that flared in her clit as they slid out. There was an ache in her throat as she inhaled the same air that the tyrant exhaled sharply. “You promised...” She rasped, wrists squirming under his hand. “... That you would pin me and fuck me.”His eyes didn’t break contact as he licked her delicious juices from his fingers. The hunger in his stare sent a wave of tiny bumps all over her skin. The side of his lips curled at her lewd expression while watching him. Then, Enver moved so fast that he was like a streak of lightning in the midst of a violent storm. He took a nipple and the rosy skin of an areola in his mouth and it was wholly stunning. Sounds of sucking and groans battled between the two of them sending a shock wave through them, then shattering pleasure. The tyrant held her wrists firm, the head of his cock prodding against her throbbing centre. The hot weight of him pressing into her was addicting, the feel of his hungry mouth on her breast, maddening. Walls of the chamber seemed to spin and whirl as her body sparked and ignited. A thumb lifted, playfully dragging across her bottom lip. She captured his thumb, sucking deep, hard, and seductively; the juices from her cunt an enticing flavour on his skin. The flesh was released reluctantly when he thrusted up between her thighs. Moaning, her nails dug in to his hand as her body stretched to accommodate his hard and melting size.Her breathing halted and then sped up when he pulled out and buried himself to the hilt again, a sublime shiver coursing through her. Her hips tilted as her head swung back, gasping out a cry. The deep drawls on her breasts slowed until his mouth parted from the sensitive peaks. He looked down to where their hips met, watching as he withdrew inch by inch, only to penetrate into her wet mess again like the voyeur he was. The groan was ragged and their moans of pleasure got lost in one another. Enver was a tremendous presence in her body, taking up so much of her that she was full and curling her toes. “Oh gods..” She mewled when he set a pace, a tremor rippled through his body and into hers. Sucking in air was proving laborious. Cords of muscle stood out from his neck as he titled his head to the side and fought the urge to lose control right then and there. This wasn’t just some means to an end; not a random patriar wooed in an attempt to fufill a need and move on. This was his nearest and dearest and he would fuck her with feral respect. A shudder rocked him. “I haven’t quite felt anything as amazing as you.” He admitted hoarsely, the thick length of him rolling into Sakura relentlessly. “Me neither” She whimpered and his eyes lifted to hold hers, features too saturated with need to read anything else from his expression. A muscle ticked along his jaw “You’re going to make me lose control... So damn reckless...” A pulse ran through him, though every part of him, and Sakura felt it transfer to her. Her legs drew up, bringing him even deeper inside of her and intensified the sensitivity. They lost their breath almost as much as they lost themselves “I am reckless... when it comes to you...” The tyrant’s growl answered her exasperated admittance, spinning its way around her. Hair sliding forward, it brushed against his chest. The delicate coolness made him shudder.
The hand that clasped her wrists brought her arms down to his shoulders where they clung as he lifted her, bringing them to the bed. When he towered over her, Sakura clenched her knees against his sides to roll him onto his back. Air punched from his lungs as he was caught off guard. Pleasure thundered through them when her hips rocked back and forth. She planted shaky palms on his chest to steady herself. “Good gods...” He mewled, watching her oscillate against his cock that was soon going to be ready to explode. “If this was how you were planning to kill me before overcoming Bhaal, it would have worked and I would have enjoyed that manner of death.” His features lost some of their sharpness when she lifted until just the tip of him was in, but then she slammed back down with whatever strength she could muster. There wasn’t an inch of space to be found between either of them. Gaze heavy hooded, his hands dug into her waist while she rolled harder. Heart thumping wildly, Sakura’s head kicked back and she grasped at both of his wrists that clung to her waist. The tempo became torturous, the tension building. She moved one of his hands to where they were joined, pressing against the live wired bundle of nerves there. When his thumb made tantalizing swirls, the curling in her abdomen echoed deep inside as she cried out “Enver...!” “Fuck!” He gasped, ass rearing off the bed, lifting both of them. “You feel so good... I’m going to...” The friction of each withdrawal and subsequent return was the last straw. Sakura’s walls clenched in response to him pulling her trigger, unleashing the swirling knot of tension. Her fingers spasmed around his wrists, nails digging in, as Enver’s hips rose to meet hers. There was no sense of rhythm, the movements were driven by sheer instinct and need. The waves of climax rippled through them, the tyrant’s thrusts were faster, causing Sakura’s hands to return to his chest to keep steady. Shocks of pleasure cascaded through them. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her chest to his. Holding her tight, he rotated her beneath him and buried his head into her shoulder. He shuddered as his release joined into a second one, the relentless railing made his co-ruler’s eyes roll back. She clawed at his back until the sharp, swift tremors started to subside. His weight braced on an arm as he peered down at her for an indefinable amount of time. They soaked in the closeness, how they were still joined. The scent of rosewood tickled at Sakura’s nose, but she dared not move yet. Her hands felt the length of long, stiff corded muscles of his back shift. The tyrant stared down at her, thick lashes fluttering before he rolled off to his side, lying next to her on the bed. One of his arms tossed back behind his head. The sharp rise and fall of their chests began to calm. Gods he was... perfect. It took some effort to push back the knot forming in her throat, this was just supposed to be a lap dance, but it turned into something far more fun. Sakura started to scoot to the edge of the bed, but his voice paused her. “Where do you think you’re going?” She looked over her shoulder with flushed cheeks. “Your lap dance is over so I-” Then it hit her that they were laying in her bed. If anyone needed to leave, it was him. Her heart tumbled. A faint smirk appeared on his face, softening the angles of his features. “Stay a while, won’t you? We have a few years worth of memories to make up for.” The human became uncharacteristically shy as she tried to decipher if he was teasing her or being serious. Her pulse kicked up when she dared a quick peak below his waist. She gasped; he was more than just semi hard and that was... Well, that was impressive. Her muscles clenched as their gazes connected briefly, but then his lowered. While he stared, he did what he knew Sakura loved most and drew that godforsaken bottom lip through his teeth. She grunted, “Fine, I’ll stay...” A bolt of sharp edged arousal pierced her again. Enver moved shockingly fast, one arm clamping around her waist and hauling her inward on the bed until her head rested on his shoulder. She gave in to this urge. Her leg drew up over the lower part of his body and her right arm drooped over his chest. He tilted his head down and ran a hand through her hair. “I’ll notify the fists that we’re taking a sick day tomorrow. It would be awful hard for you to do your duties, being unable to walk and all.” The hot breath over her ear made her shiver. When Sakura’s mouth opened up in partial shock and protest, he closed his over hers and muted her with a kiss that was more tender than anything she had ever witnessed. Maybe taking a day off wouldn’t be so terrible after all.