Catch and Release

AN: Sorry for the delayed update. Life took over and all that. (Srsly, so busy it was insane.) Maybe the chapter will earn your forgiveness? Either way, thanks for all the comments, I hadn't expected anyone would care for the story. ♥ Right, third and final installment: onto the read!

Edit: Er, somehow the text got pasted twice, sorry bout that! Fixed now.

She pinched one nut and he jerked, crying out into the gag as she explained, “No more foreplay for you.”

He nodded his understanding with quick jerks of his head, desperate for her to move on and trying not to twist away from her touch. It was painful but he didn't want it to stop—not when there was the underlying promise that she was going to fuck him. She continued for a moment longer, pushing his balls around and squeezing them until they shot out from between her fingers, and he felt his abdominal muscles clench tightly. For a moment the idea of her enhanced strength scared him; certainly being a skilled medical nin she understood how delicate they were, but before he could decide if he should seriously struggle beneath her, she had already trailed her fingers higher to tickle across his budding cock. Even the pain and fear hadn't been enough to force it away.

He relaxed, sweaty and chest heaving already, his balls swelling and sore as she pumped him a few times in long, fast strokes. He knew what she was doing; he understood that she was punishing him every time her fist jerked down, bumping the tender area between his legs, but the action felt as good as it hurt. And he was secretly thankful she hadn't taken the punishment further. He suddenly had a better understanding of the effectiveness a medical specialist could have in a torture session, breaking and healing and breaking again—an endless cycle of pain.

The image of her pale skin splattered with someone else's blood flickered before his eyes. He'd seen it plenty of times before, but always in the setting of a hospital ward or the battlefield. The concept of using healing techniques to harm just didn't suit his Sakura-chan.

He must have made an unhappy sound at the thought because she was crawling up his body, reaching for the gag with a look of concern.

With a brush of her fingertips, the paper lost it's adhesiveness and slipped away.

“You're such a baby,” she griped while pulling the lingerie from between his lips, which was her way of asking What's wrong?

Naruto choked out a “Geh” in embarrassment, but managed a weak grin. “Just kiss me again.”

She looked to the side, trying to hide her own growing smile as she pretended to consider his request. “If you say something stupid,” she warned, meeting his eyes, “I'll change my mind about fucking you.”

He felt his face heat up at her words and was quick to assure her, “I won't.”

She smiled then and lowered herself to his lips.

He breathed shakily against her skin, closing his eyes in contentment as he kissed her slow and sensual. She let him set the pace, following the strong strokes of his tongue with her own teasing licks and sucking at his lips.

As he continued working at her mouth, he felt her grip the collar to his jacket on either side of his neck and then she was pulling him up to a sitting position. He broke away from the kiss, panting from the added pressure the position caused, tightening the ropes around his chest under the strain of supporting himself.

“Sa-Sakura-chan. . .”

She had reached back and gripped his cock with one hand, using it to guide herself as she lowered to straddle his hips, and he nearly bit through his bottom lip when he felt his tip brush the slickness of her opening.

She ground against him, swiveling her hips as she rubbed his swollen tip back and forth and up the length of her to caress her clit before slipping it back to press in. Grunting, he rocked up against her as she lowered herself, using the force of her weight to bury his cock in one quick motion.

Oh, God. This was happening, really happening.

The sensation was hot, tight, but also slippery as she moved some against him, draping her arms around his shoulders to hug herself against his chest. Her thighs trembled on either side of his own. He buried his face against her neck, licking and biting along her collar bone, and felt one hand trail up to cup the back of his head.

And then she was moving, and he was left to gasp against her skin.

He could hear himself growling, feel the deep reverberation in his chest as the pleasure began building, but he'd be damned if he came again too soon and robbed her of her finish. The thought was slightly terrifying: her prolonging the session with his inevitable punishment before forcing an arousal yet again—or worse, she might just give up on him, leave him bound and exposed to either free himself (not likely) or be discovered by some poor, hapless genin whom the experience would undoubtedly scar for life (he'd rather take the risk of relying on himself). Perversely, the thought excited him, and he moaned against her throat.

In actuality, he was more than certain she'd never abandon him—no matter how angry he made her, but maybe that was half the thrill. He trusted her enough to be able to explore the idea without the full weight of fear. The idea of possibly needing to escape made him unbearably hot, and he subtly tried to turn his wrists against the ropes as she continued pumping on and off of him.

No good. No matter how he looked at it, he wouldn't be able to form a hand seal.

Sakura's pounding had become faster and more insistent; she pulled back enough to slip a hand down between her thighs, and he looked down to watch as she fingered her clit. The image of his cock slipping in and out of view between her spread legs and the small patch of pastel hair, glistening a darker pink in places seared itself into his mind. She cried out as she clenched around him, and he caught her lips, eager to swallow her whimpers.

She started to slow, sagging from the weight of her exhaustion.

He broke away, panting and begging, “Just a little bit more.”

She nodded weakly, her head resting on his shoulder, tried to increase her pace once more. He threw his head back and bucking against her, stopped concentrating on holding back.

She lifted her head, kissing up the length of his jaw line before pressing her lips to his ear. She licked the edge of his earlobe and grazed her teeth across his skin, purring softly, “Naruto.” He expected her to add something along the lines of, Hurry it up, idiot, but instead she surprised him by whispering, “I love you.”

The words sent him over the edge, hard and without warning. “Un.”

He choke-sobbed in disbelief, closing his eyes tight as he emptied himself into her. Their cheeks pressed together. With one hand she reached up to stroke the lines of his scars. He wilted, utterly robbed of his strength, and she followed him to the ground, lying across his chest like crumpled blanket.

When he no longer felt light-headed he murmured, “Tell me you meant it.”

She pulled back instantly, scowling, and furious.

She was probably going to hit him, but he wouldn't back down. He needed to know.

“Tell me,” he asked again, voice quieter from the sharp pang in his chest which seemed to wash away his resolve.

Her indignance softened at his expression. “Of course, I meant it,” she sighed. “You think I'd do that with just anyone?”

He smiled, and she reached down to set him free.

Snickering, he teased, "I can't wait to show Bushy-brows that I won."