(no subject)
Water Nymph
By Mireisen
Rated M
I don't own Naruto...some rich Japanese guy does.
------------------------------------------------
She was getting used to the sleepless nights. Her eyes never ceased to dull.
A pale, naked ankle steps forward.
“I am very proud of your accomplishment. You have grown so well these past few years that no other father could ever boast more.”
“T-thank you, Chichue.”
Gentle flicker. The candles are lit.
“I have to say, I’m impressed. I never would have imagined that you would ever turn out this way.”
“Nisan?”
“Congratulations.”
A pile of clothes are neatly set away. Katana. Shirt. Lastly, a clay mask in the shape of a hawk’s beak. An ivory comb slowly runs through a river of indigo hair, smooth and silky.
“I cannot...”
“Surely you can find some affection for him? He has been looking over you and been your constant companion for five years…”
“I cannot…”
“Give it more time. I believe you both have more feelings for one another that you are willing to admit…If it is because he is your cousin, remind yourself that he has many more good qualities that such a small thing should not matter…”
“I…”
“If you cannot find a better mate in two weeks’ time, you will be officially engaged to him by the morning of the following day.”
“I…”
“It is settled then.”
A voluptuous, well-formed body slowly sinks in. Pale, tight calves dip themselves in, followed by the soft, wide curve of hips. A tiny waist follows, flat and tight. Several scars dance about her body, ranging from tiny nicks on her hands to a four-inch gash on her white back. Her hands are left hanging softly against the warm tile. Her shoulders sink in to the steaming water. Her most prestigious mark decorates her strong, athletic shoulders. Two-inch tattoos. She is an ANBU.
“You do understand that I have no qualms or objections to your father’s wish, don’t you?”
“What did you say?”
“I wouldn’t mind it…”
“You wouldn’t mind it? What do you mean? You have a choice to reject the arrangement. You can say no. It will be over if you say no. Do you feel that guilty about your past actions against me that you would throw away the rest of your life in this? Don’t you have a dream of marrying someone you love?”
“My guilt has nothing to do with this. That is why I wouldn’t mind it.”
Her face is angelic. Thick black lashes, a thin and elegant brow. Her cupid lips slightly part, soft and pink. Underneath it all, she is less innocent. She is a walking paradox. Her gentle voice and soft gestures give no justice to her ruthless determination and deadly touches.
Her eyes are pale, flickering a lavender shade against the light of the candles. They close gracefully into a deep sleep.
“I love you.”
“You…what?”
Her eyes slightly opened. She felt another presence near her.
“I love you.” The words touched her ears, a low and slightly raspy whisper.
A warm pair of lips nibbled gently at her lobes, making its way slowly down her neck. Kisses were planted at the trail of her left shoulder, and slowly back up to suck softly on her flesh.
She tilted her head back, closing her eyes once more. She heard the deepening breaths, steady and rhythmic, while a pair of strong hands wrapped about her waist and slowly made its way up. They were familiar hands. The left bore a tiny gold band around one of its fingers. They were scarred, calloused, but never trembled or shook. Steady and sure.
“How was the mission..?” she asked quietly.
The hands cupped her full breasts. They barely fit in the hands, abundant and soft. The hands gently massaged her, thumbs rubbing at peaked nipples, occasionally joining with an index finger to pinch at them. It was never harsh or demeaning in the way he touched her.
The low voice whispered to her again, “Mediocre…Was dreaming of coming back home to you…”
She responded softly, “Mnm…”
One of the hands slid further down, caressing her milky white thighs and stroking them. It was only moments before the hand made its way up between her legs, a fingertip gently brushed by, touching her outer ridges.
Her eyes opened. An inward gasp escaped her lips.
“And how I would find you…”
The fingers dipped in, barely, the tips discovering her special tiny mound of flesh and stroking it in a circular motion. She arched her back slightly, her breath quickening.
“Dreaming of being yours and you being mine…”
The hands stopped for a moment to reach her shoulders, turning her. Her eyes gazed down to a bare chest, flat, chiseled. A hand cupped her chin, tilting it upwards as her eyelids fluttered.
Warm lips met hers, hungrily kissing. A tongue forced itself through her open doors, coaxing her to play. He always tasted that way. Iron, salt. He always had a familiar smell, sandalwood and incense from all his hours of meditation. Her eyes opened wider.
Pale blankness of white, tint of lavender. She could see the flicker of the candlelight underneath it all. They were similar to her own, but not. The lines about the eyes were deeper, mature, and have seen countless things with serenity. Her serenity.
“My little water nymph…”
She felt his hands under her, lifting her from the waters to straddle him. Her fingertips ran through his wet dark hair, long and loose. She felt his hot kisses all about her, and the gentle entry between her legs.
He was always silent, but she tended to moan lightly. Their rhythm was familiar, welcoming, and steady. Many years of experience was built between the two, both starting as stuttering, nervous wrecks on their wedding night. Now they knew each other intimately, any slight change would be noticed by the other hand, as well as knowing how to please one another.
He always loved to come home.
------------------------------------------------
Want to leave a review? Click HERE.
By Mireisen
Rated M
I don't own Naruto...some rich Japanese guy does.
------------------------------------------------
She was getting used to the sleepless nights. Her eyes never ceased to dull.
A pale, naked ankle steps forward.
“I am very proud of your accomplishment. You have grown so well these past few years that no other father could ever boast more.”
“T-thank you, Chichue.”
Gentle flicker. The candles are lit.
“I have to say, I’m impressed. I never would have imagined that you would ever turn out this way.”
“Nisan?”
“Congratulations.”
A pile of clothes are neatly set away. Katana. Shirt. Lastly, a clay mask in the shape of a hawk’s beak. An ivory comb slowly runs through a river of indigo hair, smooth and silky.
“I cannot...”
“Surely you can find some affection for him? He has been looking over you and been your constant companion for five years…”
“I cannot…”
“Give it more time. I believe you both have more feelings for one another that you are willing to admit…If it is because he is your cousin, remind yourself that he has many more good qualities that such a small thing should not matter…”
“I…”
“If you cannot find a better mate in two weeks’ time, you will be officially engaged to him by the morning of the following day.”
“I…”
“It is settled then.”
A voluptuous, well-formed body slowly sinks in. Pale, tight calves dip themselves in, followed by the soft, wide curve of hips. A tiny waist follows, flat and tight. Several scars dance about her body, ranging from tiny nicks on her hands to a four-inch gash on her white back. Her hands are left hanging softly against the warm tile. Her shoulders sink in to the steaming water. Her most prestigious mark decorates her strong, athletic shoulders. Two-inch tattoos. She is an ANBU.
“You do understand that I have no qualms or objections to your father’s wish, don’t you?”
“What did you say?”
“I wouldn’t mind it…”
“You wouldn’t mind it? What do you mean? You have a choice to reject the arrangement. You can say no. It will be over if you say no. Do you feel that guilty about your past actions against me that you would throw away the rest of your life in this? Don’t you have a dream of marrying someone you love?”
“My guilt has nothing to do with this. That is why I wouldn’t mind it.”
Her face is angelic. Thick black lashes, a thin and elegant brow. Her cupid lips slightly part, soft and pink. Underneath it all, she is less innocent. She is a walking paradox. Her gentle voice and soft gestures give no justice to her ruthless determination and deadly touches.
Her eyes are pale, flickering a lavender shade against the light of the candles. They close gracefully into a deep sleep.
“I love you.”
“You…what?”
Her eyes slightly opened. She felt another presence near her.
“I love you.” The words touched her ears, a low and slightly raspy whisper.
A warm pair of lips nibbled gently at her lobes, making its way slowly down her neck. Kisses were planted at the trail of her left shoulder, and slowly back up to suck softly on her flesh.
She tilted her head back, closing her eyes once more. She heard the deepening breaths, steady and rhythmic, while a pair of strong hands wrapped about her waist and slowly made its way up. They were familiar hands. The left bore a tiny gold band around one of its fingers. They were scarred, calloused, but never trembled or shook. Steady and sure.
“How was the mission..?” she asked quietly.
The hands cupped her full breasts. They barely fit in the hands, abundant and soft. The hands gently massaged her, thumbs rubbing at peaked nipples, occasionally joining with an index finger to pinch at them. It was never harsh or demeaning in the way he touched her.
The low voice whispered to her again, “Mediocre…Was dreaming of coming back home to you…”
She responded softly, “Mnm…”
One of the hands slid further down, caressing her milky white thighs and stroking them. It was only moments before the hand made its way up between her legs, a fingertip gently brushed by, touching her outer ridges.
Her eyes opened. An inward gasp escaped her lips.
“And how I would find you…”
The fingers dipped in, barely, the tips discovering her special tiny mound of flesh and stroking it in a circular motion. She arched her back slightly, her breath quickening.
“Dreaming of being yours and you being mine…”
The hands stopped for a moment to reach her shoulders, turning her. Her eyes gazed down to a bare chest, flat, chiseled. A hand cupped her chin, tilting it upwards as her eyelids fluttered.
Warm lips met hers, hungrily kissing. A tongue forced itself through her open doors, coaxing her to play. He always tasted that way. Iron, salt. He always had a familiar smell, sandalwood and incense from all his hours of meditation. Her eyes opened wider.
Pale blankness of white, tint of lavender. She could see the flicker of the candlelight underneath it all. They were similar to her own, but not. The lines about the eyes were deeper, mature, and have seen countless things with serenity. Her serenity.
“My little water nymph…”
She felt his hands under her, lifting her from the waters to straddle him. Her fingertips ran through his wet dark hair, long and loose. She felt his hot kisses all about her, and the gentle entry between her legs.
He was always silent, but she tended to moan lightly. Their rhythm was familiar, welcoming, and steady. Many years of experience was built between the two, both starting as stuttering, nervous wrecks on their wedding night. Now they knew each other intimately, any slight change would be noticed by the other hand, as well as knowing how to please one another.
He always loved to come home.
------------------------------------------------
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