"Breakfast is ready, my Lord," Hiashi announced with a deferential bow as he caught sight of Minato entering the room, cradling Hinata gently in his arms like a cherished treasure.
A surge of smug satisfaction bloomed in Hiashi's chest, hidden behind his stoic facade.
He could already envision the cascade of benefits—political alliances, elevated status for the Hyuga clan, perhaps even a whisper of influence over the Hokage's decisions.
His mouth practically watered at the thought of the power that would soon be within his grasp, all thanks to this union he'd orchestrated.
Minato's eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and authority as he adjusted Hinata's weight against his chest.
She was still flushed, her pale skin glowing with the remnants of last night's passion, her Byakugan eyes half-lidded in contentment.
"Of course, Hiashi. Lead the way," Minato replied smoothly, his voice carrying that effortless command that made even the proudest shinobi bend.
The four of them—Minato, Hinata, Hiashi, and his wife Hana—began walking through the ornate halls of the Hyuga compound.
Hana trailed slightly behind, her gaze locked on her daughter nestled so intimately against the Hokage's broad frame. A pang of envy twisted in her gut, unbidden and sharp.
Hinata would have a life of luxury and security now, as long as she kept Minato pleased. But Hana's thoughts drifted further, darker.
She recalled the sounds from the previous night—the rhythmic moans, the gasps of ecstasy that had echoed through the walls.
She'd sat outside their chamber, feigning vigilance, but her body had betrayed her.
Her thighs had clenched involuntarily, a warmth pooling between her legs that her own marriage had never ignited. Hiashi was always too consumed with clan duties, his touches mechanical and rare.
What would it feel like, she wondered, to be handled with such tenderness and fire? To glow like Hinata did now, marked by passion's bruises and bites?
They arrived at the breakfast room, a sunlit space adorned with elegant tatami mats and low tables laden with steaming miso soup, grilled fish, rice, and fresh fruits.
Minato carefully lowered Hinata to her seat, his fingers lingering a moment too long on her waist, eliciting a soft shiver from her.
She climbed out of his arms with a graceful reluctance, settling properly but unable to hide the deep crimson blush staining her cheeks.
Her kimono slipped slightly at the shoulder, revealing a constellation of love bites trailing down her neck—marks of possession that spoke volumes of the night's fervor.
She shifted in her seat, wincing faintly as if her body still ached from the intensity, yet her eyes sparkled with a newfound confidence.
Hana couldn't tear her eyes away.
Jealousy simmered hotter now, mingling with an unwelcome arousal. Hinata's skin had that post-coital radiance, a luminous sheen that Hana had never experienced, not even on her wedding night.
Hiashi had been efficient, dutiful, but utterly devoid of passion. Last night, as she'd eavesdropped on her daughter's cries of pleasure—those drawn-out moans, the pleas for more—she'd felt her own nipples harden against her robe, her core throbbing with neglected need.
How big was he? How skilled? The way Minato had treated Hinata so gently yet dominantly… Hana craved it. Her husband never looked at her like that, never made her feel desired. She pressed her thighs together under the table, trying to quell the growing dampness.
They all dug into the meal, the clink of chopsticks punctuating conversations that ranged from the lingering scars of the recent war to the village's reconstruction efforts, and even lighter topics like the upcoming festivals.
Minato's presence dominated the room, his charisma drawing them in, but beneath it all, tension crackled like static before a storm.
Once the plates were cleared, Minato turned to Hinata with a soft smile. "Hinata, since you're finished with breakfast, you may leave. I have some matters to discuss with your parents."
Hinata rose obediently, her movements fluid and poised, but before departing, she leaned in close to Minato.
Her hand cupped his cheek, and she pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was anything but chaste—deep, lingering, tongues brushing in a sensual dance that made the air thicken.
She poured her love and passion into it, her body arching slightly as if remembering every thrust from the night before. "Until we meet again, my love," she whispered huskily into his ear, her breath hot against his skin, sending a visible shiver down his spine.
Then, with a sway in her hips that hadn't been there yesterday, she turned and glided out of the room.
Minato blinked in surprise, a genuine smile curving his lips. She hadn't been this bold last night—timid at first, then unraveling under his touch.
A woman's first time could indeed transform her, awakening desires she never knew she had.
He savored the memory: her soft whimpers turning to screams of ecstasy, her nails raking his back as he claimed her fully.
Hiashi watched with barely concealed glee. At least his worthless daughter excelled at something. If she could secure favors from the Hokage through her body, he wouldn't mind her skipping training altogether. Hell, he'd encourage it.
Minato's expression shifted, turning serious as he fixed Hiashi with a piercing gaze. "You know, Hiashi, Hinata and I had quite a few conversations last night. One of them was about her childhood… and the abuse you inflicted on her."
The room grew heavy with silence.
Hiashi straightened, his face a mask of composure, but his mind raced. "It is a harsh world, as you well know, Lord Hokage. I only wanted her to lead a strong life. For that, she needed unbreakable resolve. I employed every method—emotional pressure, physical discipline—to forge her into the ninja she is today. And look at her now: a splendid warrior with a body ripe for bearing heirs." He paused, his eyes gleaming with calculation. If Hinata bore Minato's child, the Hyuga clan's prestige would skyrocket. They might even position themselves for the Hokage seat one day.
Minato nodded slowly, his tone deceptively agreeable. "You're right. It is a harsh world." Hiashi's chest swelled with triumph—he'd swayed him. But then Minato's voice dropped, laced with steel. "But that doesn't mean you go unpunished."
Hiashi's smugness faltered, but he held his ground. "If you deem me deserving of punishment, Lord Hokage, then deliver it. I accept whatever you see fit."
Minato's lips curled into a predatory smile. "Hana-san, would you please come here?" He patted his lap invitingly, his intention crystal clear.
Hiashi's eyes widened in understanding. So, this was the punishment—Minato would take his wife right here, in front of him.
It was humiliating, yes, but far better than alternatives like stripping him of his Byakugan or public disgrace, which would cost him his clan leadership. No one else would know; the secret would die in this room. The Hokage was merciful indeed.
Hana's heart pounded as she met her husband's gaze, confusion and fear swirling in her eyes. She hesitated, her hands trembling slightly on the table. This couldn't be real—sitting on another man's lap? Letting him… touch her? But Hiashi's stare was unyielding, demanding obedience.
"Hana, Lord Hokage is calling you," Hiashi said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. "Go to him. And do your best to please him—for the clan."
Her breath hitched. For the clan. For her husband. To avoid invoking the Hokage's wrath. With tentative steps, she approached Minato, her kimono whispering against her legs. The air felt charged, every inch closer building an electric tension that made her skin prickle.
As she reached him, Minato's strong hands encircled her waist, pulling her down onto his lap with effortless strength. She gasped softly, landing against his firm thighs, her back pressing into his chest.
It was intimate, forbidden—his warmth seeped through their clothes, igniting a fire she hadn't felt in years.
His arm wrapped possessively around her midsection, drawing her even closer, his fingers splaying just below her breasts. She could feel the hard planes of his body, the subtle bulge pressing against her backside, and gods, it felt… good. Wrong, but intoxicating.
Her pulse raced, a flush creeping up her neck as she glanced at Hiashi, who watched impassively.
Hiashi seethed inwardly. Why had she hesitated? Was she that dense? He'd had to order her twice.
After this, he'd remind her of her place—perhaps with a firm hand. But for now, he sat still, the room thick with unspoken arousal and power play.
Minato's breath brushed Hana's ear, his voice a low murmur. "Relax, Hana-san. This is your punishment for him… but perhaps a reward for you." His free hand trailed up her thigh, inching under the hem of her kimono, fingers teasing the soft skin there.
She bit her lip to stifle a moan, her body betraying her with a rush of heat. The tension coiled tighter, the air humming with anticipation as Minato's touch grew bolder, promising more to come.
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