Her belly clenches as she hears another one of his throaty groans.
As if he knows, Sasuke places a hand flat on her stomach, blindly finding the fasteners of her waist belt. He expertly removes them and throws it behind her, and she wonders how many times he did just that in his time.
His mouth doesn't stop moving as his hand glides to her side, bunching up her red dress until he finds bare skin. Sasuke's touch is surprisingly warm, and it doesn't hesitate; his hand cups her breast over the thin material of her bra, and she barely holds in a squeak when he adds some pressure.
"Tell me to stop," he mumbles against her lips, but Sakura completely ignores it.
She's lost in a sensual daze; her senses are overloaded. They are kissing. Sasuke is kissing her, and he's squeezing her breast, thumbing her pebbled nipple, and everything feels immensely good.
He gently pushes her down on her back, settling on his side beside her. Her dress is halfway up her torso, and he tugs on the hem. While she takes it off, his hand busies itself, travelling a path downward. His fingers brush between her legs, and she thinks she stops breathing then.
When he moves again, the touch is firmer, he presses the tips of two fingers over her center and traces the way up to her clit. There are still two layers between his touch and her bare skin, but she feels the heat, nonetheless. She whimpers impatiently as his thumb hooks under the waistband of her shorts.
She's already topless when he finds her gaze. Her face warms as she watches him watching her; he's as breathless as her, wild hair sticking up to all directions despite its length, and eyes glazed over. He swallows, slowly, and she seems to know he's about to ask her again. But Sakura doesn't want him to stop.
She bites her lip in a seductive way, she hopes, and tries to tell him she needs him to keep going. To move again. Sasuke makes a husky sound and slips his fingers beneath her shorts. He starts to push the fabric down, and she automatically helps with one hand.
Teamwork all the way down, down, down, her legs.
For the first time ever, she's truly naked in front of a man, and Sakura is happy that it's Sasuke who's seeing her, even though he's not her Sasuke yet – she's happy that he'll be one day. His lone hand tosses her clothes to the floor and trails a path back to where it was a few seconds ago. The simple, soft touch is simmering. She feels her skin, her body, tingling in anticipation.
He props himself on his stump, angling just right to watch his work. His fingers caress and explore, so gently, that Sakura thinks she might cry. He's making her as comfortable as possible, and she feels her heart soaring for him. She's not sure which sensation she should focus on now; everything he's doing feels good and new.
Just as she thinks it can't get any better, he proves her wrong by pressing his index finger on her clit. He rubs a tiny circle, testing and probing. Her hips move in response, shooting up as if she was struck by lightning.
Quickly, Sasuke throws a leg over her knee, keeping her in place. He repeats the motion and this time she's half prepared. She enjoys the feeling, moaning softly.
During a particular rough circle, her hand snaps up and clutches his shoulder. Sasuke hisses immediately, and it's how she realizes she's squeezing an injury and undoing her own work. An apology slips her as quickly as her hand glows green to sooth the area. He grunts, and Sakura learns this is his way to say thank you – it's growing on her, she thinks fondly.
He leans closer, his hair tickling her nose. She wants to kiss him again, but as much as she tries, squirming to reach him, Sasuke has other plans; he's happy watching her writhe under his expert touch.
