Madara leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss at first, before it deepened, turning into something more passionate. The warmth of his lips sent a shiver through you, and a faint moan escaped your lips as his hands gently cupped your face. When he finally pulled away, his breath was heavy, his eyes dark with desire.
"Give me a moment to take off some of my layers, honey," he murmured, his voice low but filled with firm authority.
With a gentle yet firm touch, he used his hand to guide you toward the large futon in the center of the room. You didn't resist, your body ached, and your swollen ankles made it difficult to stand for much longer.
"Sit down," Madara ordered softly, his hands steady as he helped you ease onto the futon.
You sighed in relief as your legs finally rested, the pressure on your swollen ankles easing slightly. Madara, ever perceptive, had noticed the signs even before you had fully admitted it to yourself. Despite your desire to be strong, he has always been the one to take care of you when you needed it most.
"You've been on your feet for too long today," he remarked, his voice softer now, as he began removing his layers. "I won't have you suffering because of your pride. Rest, love."
You watched, your heart racing, as Madara slowly began to undress. The flickering candlelight cast shadows over his strong frame, accentuating every muscle, every curve of his body. A soft blush crept up your neck as your eyes lingered on him, unable to control the warmth that spread through you. His presence was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but feel the heat rise in your chest, the excitement building.
Madara was a sight to behold, as he had always been. The first time you laid eyes on him, something had shifted within you—a spark, an undeniable pull. You knew, even then, that you had to have him, and somehow, you had. And now, here he was, standing before you, his eyes meeting yours with a look that mirrored the desire you felt.
He noticed the way your gaze lingered, and his lips curled into a slight smirk, a glint of something mischievous in his eyes. "Enjoying the view, are we?" he teased, his voice low, the tension between you both palpable.
You swallowed, your breath caught in your throat, but all you could do was nod, a soft, almost breathless smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're impossible," you muttered, your voice filled with a mix of awe and longing.
Madara chuckled, the sound rich and deep, before he took a step closer to you, his body radiating warmth. His hand reached out, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity in his eyes. "Impossible?" he repeated, his voice quieter now. "Maybe. But I'm yours."
Madara knelt down onto the futon beside you, his movements slow and calculated. Gently, he guided you to lie down, his hands warm against your skin. His fingers brushed over your chin as he tilted your head, his gaze locking with yours.
The air between you both was thick with anticipation, and without a word, he leaned in. His lips met yours again, this time with a softness that made your heart flutter. The kiss was slow and tender, but it quickly deepened, a shared understanding passing between you as you held onto the moment.
As he caressed your waist, his touch gentle but firm, you melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck, drawing him closer. The sound of your breathing mingled with the quiet, soft rhythm of your kiss. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, intimate space.
Madara pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, "I've waited for this... with you." His voice was thick with emotion, the weight of his words making the moment even more meaningful.
You smiled softly, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. "Me too," you whispered back, before leaning in for another kiss, deeper this time, the world outside the room feeling miles away.
He pulled away slowly, his hand cupping your cheek. It was with the tenderness of a man who had found his refuge. His eyes, those piercing red orbs, softened as he looked at you.
"You're thinking too much," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through you.
You laughed softly, a sound that was both amused and exasperated. "I'm not thinking at all, Madara. That's the problem."
He smiled, a lopsided grin that was more stealing than charming. "You're thinking about the kids, aren't you?
"About the little one on the way?" Madara's fingers traced the line of your jaw, his touch light and warm.
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Five already run me ragged. How will I manage six?"
Madara chuckled, a deep sound that resonated in his chest. "You underestimate yourself, honey." He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, fleeting kiss. "You're the strongest woman I know, my love. And our children... they're lucky to have you."
You rolled your eyes, but your voice was soft. "And they are lucky to have you as well. You know that, right?" you questioned, reaching up to brush a strand of dark hair away from his face. "You're not the only one who's strong, Madara."
He captured your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours. His thumb caressed the back of your hand, his touch sending small shivers up your arm.
"Strong enough to keep this family together while I'm out there," he said, gesturing vaguely towards the world beyond their estate. "Strong enough to give me a reason to come back alive."
The weight of his words hung between you, heavy with emotion.
But you would rather not dwell on the trials of your life, not now. Not when he was here, within reach. You pulled him closer, your hand sliding around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but the moment was brief. Before he could react, your lips were on his, a soft kiss that deepened quickly. This time, it was you taking charge, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips, coaxing a response.
Madara hesitated for a moment, his surprise lingering, before he sighed into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you. His hands splayed against your back, holding you close, as if he feared you might slip away. The kiss deepened, becoming a dance of tongues and lips, a promise in every touch.
Madara's hand, which had been splayed against your back, began to move, tracing the curve of your spine, the swell of your hip. Then, as if drawn by some primal instinct, it moved higher, his palm flattening against your belly.
You pulled back from the kiss, your breath coming in soft gasps, your eyes searching his. Madara's gaze was intense, his hand still warm against your skin. He watched you, waiting, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was feeling. "The baby," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "It's moving."
You looked down, your eyes following the path of his hand. Your heart grew swollen with a range of emotions as a tiny smile curved your lips. "It's been active lately," you said, your voice soft.
"Mostly at night, but sometimes during the day too. Like now." You placed your hand over his, guiding his fingers to feel the gentle tremors beneath your skin. Madara's brows furrowed slightly, his eyes searching yours as if seeking permission. You smiled, a soft, tender smile that spoke of love and trust. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice low.
"Can I...?" He hesitated, his words trailing off, his hand stilling. You turned your head, your lips pressing against his in a soft, reassuring kiss. When you pulled back, your eyes held his, your voice steady. "Yes, Love. Yes, you can." His hand began to move again, gently stroking your belly, his touch light and reverent. He watched you, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions - awe, love, and fear.
Then, his hand began to move lower, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, the line of your thigh. You tensed slightly, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his touch ventured further, exploring the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Madara paused before glancing at you.
"Madara," you whispered. "What are you doing?" Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension coursing through your veins. This was Madara, your husband, the father of your children, the legendary shinobi. And yet, there was something about the way he looked at you, the way his touch made you feel, that was both familiar and entirely new.
Madara's fingers paused, his eyes never leaving yours.
A slow, sensual smile spread across his face, as if he were unveiling a secret. "What am I doing?" he echoed,"I'm rediscovering my wife."
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, a soft, feather-light kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. His hand continued its slow exploration, his touch gentle and deliberate. He kissed your neck again, this time lingering, his lips pressing against your skin, his tongue tracing a path up to your ear. A soft moan escaped your lips, your heart pounding in your chest.
You turned your head, your eyes meeting his. The intensity in his gaze was unmistakable, a fire burning behind his usually controlled facade. "Madara," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of surprise and desire. "What...?" you started to ask again, but your words trailed off as Madara's lips found the sensitive skin of your collarbone. He kissed you there, a soft, slow kiss that made your breath hitch and your heart thunder in your chest. His fingers, which had been tracing delicate patterns on your thigh, stilled, as if he were giving his full attention to the moment.
You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, your head tilting back to grant him better access. The sensation was exquisite, a gentle touch of his lips that seemed to ignite a path of fire deep into your core. It had been so long since he had touched you like this, with such deliberation, such intimacy.
Madara pulled back slightly, his eyes studying yours, as if seeking your reaction.
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, and reached up, your fingers entwining with his. You guided his hand up, your touch gentle but firm, until it cupped your breast. Madara's breath hitched, his gaze snapping to where your hand held his. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the war between his instinct to withdraw and his desire to stay. "It's been so long, Madara," you whispered, "Too long since you've touched me like this." His gaze flicked back to yours, the fire in his eyes banked for a moment, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart ache. "I've missed you," you said, your voice steady, your gaze never leaving his. "I've missed us." Madara's fingers twitched, as if he were testing the weight of you in his hand.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, his eyes fixed on you. "I've missed you too," he finally said, his voice a low rumble. It was a simple statement, but it held a world of meaning. It was a confession of his absence, of his longing, and of his desire to reconnect.
"Show me," you uttered, "Show me what you've missed."
A slow smile spread across Madara's face, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent.
His hand, which had been resting on your breast, squeezed gently, eliciting a soft whimper from deep within you. The sensation was intense, a mixture of pleasure and discomfort, as your body was still adjusting to the changes of pregnancy. You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed, your hand gripping his shoulder for support. Madara broke the kiss, his gaze locked onto you with concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Did I hurt you?" You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "No, not at all," you assured him. "It's just... everything is so sensitive right now." His expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and awe. "You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence.
Madara's thumb and forefinger teased your nipple gently, pinching and pulling, watching your expression intensely. You bit your lip, your breath hitching as waves of pleasure coursed through you. A moan escaped your lips, low and guttural, before you could catch it.
Madara's grip tightened slightly, his eyes widening in alarm. "Shh," he hushed, his voice barely above a whisper. "The kids are still awake, you know. They're training outside, remember? We don't want them to hear us." You nodded, your cheeks flushing, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through you. You pressed your lips together, trying to contain the moans that threatened to escape. Madara's eyes flicked to your lips, a slow smile spreading across his face.
He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a deep, searing kiss that was meant to muffle your moans. His fingers continued to play with your nipple, teasing and pinching, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you. You could feel your pussy twitching, the sensation intense and unexpected, your body responding to his touch in a way that caught you both off guard.
He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. "I forgot... I mean, with the pregnancy..." You smiled, a soft, tender smile that spoke of shared discovery. "It's been too long," you agreed, "But it's not less. If anything, it's more." Madara's eyes darkened, his gaze intense as he took in your words.
You blushed, rubbing your legs together, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure within your body. Of course, Madara noticed. He removed his hand from your breast, sliding it down your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire. He paused, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, his eyes searching yours. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he slid his hand between your legs, feeling the wet mess forming. Your breath hitched, your eyes widening in surprise. His eyes held yours, his touch gentle but firm, his thumb circling your clit. "I'm exploring," he murmured, his voice low and filled with intent. "You said everything is more sensitive now. I want to remember what that feels like."
Madara's voice was low, but it held a note of determination and fascination that sent a shiver down your spine. You moaned again as his fingers continued their slow, steady exploration, your toes curling at the intense sensation. He knew it was your sensitive spot, and he took his time, watching your face with an intensity that made your heart pound. His thumb circled your clit, each rub sending a jolt of pleasure through you, making you twitch and writhe beneath him.
"Madara," you gasped, your voice a soft whisper. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head thrown back as you rode the wave of pleasure he was giving you. "Please... don't stop."
Madara's breath hitched, his eyes never leaving your face.
Slowly, with a deliberate movement, he slipped one finger inside you. The sensation was intense, a mix of pleasure and uncomfortableness as your body adjusted to the intrusion. Your eyes flew open, locking with his, surprise and pleasure warring in your gaze.
He paused, concern etched on his features. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice a low murmur, his thumb continuing its slow circles around your clit. You nodded, your breath coming in small gasps, your eyes holding his. "Yes," you assured him, "It feels... different. But good. Very good." He began to move his finger, a slow, gentle exploration that made your breath hitch and your hips lift. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and wonder.
"It's been too long, hasn't it?" he questioned.
He began to move his fingers more rapidly, applying greater pressure with his thumb on your clitoris, while maintaining his gaze on your face. You let out a soft moan, your hips rising to align with his movements, your eyes gently closing as the pleasure intensified. You moaned, your hips lifting to meet his movements, your eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure built. Your body was responding to his touch in a way that was both familiar and new, the intensity heightened by the changes of your pregnancy. "Madara... more," you gasped,"Please, more." His lips curved into a smirk, as if he were pleased with your response. "You want more?" he teased, his voice low and filled with a hint of mischief. "Alright, my love. I'll give you more."
He added a second finger, his movements becoming faster, more forceful.
You could feel the pleasure building, your hips lifting to meet his thrusts, your moans growing louder despite your best efforts to remain quiet. "Shh," he warned, his voice a low growl, his eyes never leaving yours. "The kids."
The reminder made you bite your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you tried to focus on the pleasure rather than the discomfort. Madara's fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that always sent you over the edge. He rubbed it, his fingers moving in a come-hither motion that made your breath hitch and your hips buck.
You gripped his shoulder tighter, your nails digging into his flesh as the pleasure became too much. Your body tensed, every muscle coiling as the orgasm approached.
Madara's fingers were relentless, his thumb circling your clit with a speed that seemed to match the rapid beating of your heart. The sensations overwhelmed you, and your moans grew louder, breaking through the thin barrier of your restraint. Madara, seeing your struggle, acted on instinct. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss. His tongue delved deep, silencing your cries. The simultaneous sensations of his mouth and his fingers propelled you towards the brink. His thumb gently presses against your cheek as your head holds you in place.
The dual sensations of his mouth and his fingers pushed you over the edge. You arched against him, your body convulsing as the orgasm washed over you.
The wave of pleasure was intense and overwhelming, and you could feel the heat of it radiating from your core, turning your pussy into a wet, throbbing mess. Madara's fingers were still inside you, rubbing that sensitive spot with deliberate precision, drawing out your pleasure. You wrapped your arm around his neck, pulling him closer, your lips never leaving his. You sucked his tongue, your body desperate for more, for any little bit of him you could get. He groaned into your mouth, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through you, making your toes curl and your stomach flutter. You knew you were being too loud, that the kids could hear you, but you couldn't help it. The pleasure was too much, too intense. It was all you could do to keep from screaming his name.
Madara pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, his eyes wild with need.
He rubbed your clit and G-spot relentlessly, drawing out your orgasm, his face contorted with an intense mix of concentration and desire. Your body convulsed beneath him, your hips bucking against his hand, your moans muffled against his chest. The pleasure was overwhelming, a wave of ecstasy that left you gasping for breath and shaking with the aftershocks.
As your body finally quieted, Madara leaned back, his eyes reflecting a mix of satisfaction and awe. "You're so beautiful when you come," he uttered, pleased. He withdrew his fingers slowly, gently, as if reluctant to break the connection. You watched him, your eyes heavy-lidded and sated, a soft smile playing on your lips.
But as the last ripples of pleasure faded, reality began to intrude. You remembered where you were and who was nearby.
Madara looked at the mess you had made on his fingers and between your legs. With a deliberate, lewd slowness, he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them off, one by one. You couldn't help but watch, flustered. He was being so brazen, unlike the man who was always so composed and in control. His eyes held yours the entire time, a wicked gleam of satisfaction in their depths.
"Madara," you whispered, a protest on your lips, but no sound emerged. You were too stunned, too turned on by his audacity. You could feel a fresh wave of heat between your legs, your body reacting to his boldness. He smirked, a slow, wicked curl of the lips that spoke of confidence born of years of battle and conquest.
But as he opened his mouth to respond, the sound of a child's cry echoed through the house, shattering the moment. You both froze, your eyes widening in surprise. Madara's head snapped towards the door, his brow furrowing with concern. "That sounds like our youngest," he muttered, his voice a low growl. "Those brats..."