Sakura tugged at the collar of her blouse, stifled by the starch and the wool blazer on top of it. She much preferred her sheath dresses with her doctor's coat over top, but tonight she needed to look a little more professional than that. The annual founder's banquet was being held, and though she didn't usually attend (seeing as she was not a member of any founding family), Sakura found herself perched on the steps of the Uchiha Manor.

She was herded through the doors with a group of other immaculately dressed guests – some she recognized, some she didn't. She knew the ones her own age – the ones she had gone to school with. Sasuke, her former teenage crush was there, of course. This was his home after all. The Uchiha family was as prestigious as they come, and Sakura understood that this was part of Sasuke's appeal to her. Still, she couldn't help but stare a little longingly when she caught sight of his moony face from across the room.

Quickly, she looked away before those old feelings rushed back. Instead she settled her gaze on Shino, who she remembered only fuzzily. He had been quiet back in grade school, even more so once they'd gotten older. In all his reservation, Sakura never sought a deeper friendship with him and felt no compulsion to speak with him now.

He was speaking quietly with Neji, who was Sakura's true target today. Neji's family had money, and Sakura needed money. Dr. Haruno needed money, rather. Her genetic research, while wildly popular, was expensive. The Konoha Times had covered a study of hers on the genetic variations in the founding clans of Konoha and why their eye colors were so pure and striking – particularly the Hyuugas.

The coverage made her a bit of a celebrity in the town, as did her reputation as one of the best doctors in the area. It was well known that she worked directly under Dr. Tsunade Senju of the Senju family, who was of course attending the banquet as well.

In fact, tonight was a strategic move on Tsunade's part. She had invited Sakura to tag along to tonight's banquet as her plus one so that she could try to convince one of the other families to fund their genetic research. The town of Konoha was rife with what both Sakura and Tsunade agreed were genetic conditions that had yet to be studied by any medical professional. Tsunade suspected whatever these conditions were must be somehow rooted in Konoha's genealogy.

Sakura wasn't sure what to think, but she couldn't help but notice some of the stranger 'symptoms' amongst the different families. The Hyuugas with their strange and milky eyes often had bouts of unexplained tunnel vision. The Naras were all plagued by some sort of jaundice that cast a shadowed look to their skin that was unsettling at first when you couldn't quite pinpoint what was wrong. The Uchihas often had inexplicable rages and migraines for no discernable medical reason.

For all of these reasons, both Sakura and Tsunade thought investing in genetic research would be a lifesaver in the near future when these conditions, unmanaged as they were, became a real problem. Something needed to be done before then, and with Konoha fully supporting Dr. Sakura Haruno and her intriguing eye color study, that might just be possible.

They just needed a little money.

Sakura eyed Neji from the other side of the grand foyer. He was illuminated by the glittering chandeliers above and the way the light danced off the filigree of the fine gold paper that lined the walls surrounding them. Even with her impressive doctor's wages, she couldn't help but gape at the opulence of it all – the thick velvet drapes of maroon, the sparkling black marble floors. It reeked of excess, Sakura thought with a wrinkle of her nose, but the taste was impeccable.

Neji's long hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and Sakura could see as she approached him that he was as warm as she was. Wisps of his damp hair clung to his neck. She stared for a moment at the paleness of his skin and the way the light refracted off the sheen of sweat on his neck. He turned to face her.

"Dr. Haruno," he said softly, his unnerving milky gaze sharp on her before it flicked to Sasuke on the other side of the room.

Sakura's childhood crush on Sasuke was a well-known fact, but that had been many years ago and it annoyed her that people couldn't seem to let it go. Neji of all people should have understood. She had been flirting with him for weeks, after all. His family ran many of Konoha's newspapers, including the Times, which had just published an article about her study.

Neji hadn't worked directly on the project, but she had seen him many times during the process, and she had hoped that in all the flirtatious glances and sly smiles she had given him, he would have realized that she had moved on. That she wanted someone else now.

Sort of. Neji's family had the money for her research, and he was handsome enough. There was no reason not to like him, right? Sakura couldn't quite assuage her guilt. Her gold digging, no matter how noble its motivation, was a miserable sin to commit. She was better than that. She could love Neji, if he were open to it. She didn't have much to lose, did she?

"Call me Sakura," she insisted, her voice low. Shino cleared his throat and Sakura nodded politely to him.

"Sakura," Neji said, sounding a little unsure of himself. "Are you Sasuke's plus one?"

She quickly shook her head. "It's been years since I've spoken—" she cut herself off. There was no need to explain herself. "I came with Dr. Senju."

Neji's gaze flicked to Tsunade. She felt ice in his stance, but she didn't know why.

"She's a little old for you, don't you think?"

Sakura paled and swallowed. A waiter brushed past them with a tray of champagne flutes. Sakura snagged one and sipped to wet her parched mouth. Rumors of an inappropriate relationship between Sakura and her attending doctor weren't unheard of, but no one had ever spoken about it so frankly to Sakura before.

"We don't have that kind of relationship," she said pointedly, the timbre of her voice dropped even lower. A slow disdain for Neji whipped across her skull like a sharp wind.

"Forgive me," he said, though it didn't sound much like he cared if he was forgiven or not.

Irritated, Sakura crossed her arms and looked away. She no longer felt like flirting with him, though she still needed an investor and Neji was still the prime candidate.

"Excuse me," she said to both Shino and Neji, ducking her head with flippant apology. She moved away from them quickly, hoping that time apart from Neji would bolster her waning interest in him.

She turned, downing the rest of her champagne. As she lowered the empty flute, her gaze caught on a pair of red eyes watching her from the top of the stairs.

No guests had ventured up the stairs – it wasn't polite to wander through someone else's home. He stood alone up there, dressed in a sharp navy suit and silky black tie. Sakura should have felt embarrassed to have caught his gaze like that, but she was unable to tear her eyes away.

Madara Uchiha. She recognized him easily and was intimidated by his attention. Why was the patriarch of the Uchiha family looking at her? The Uchiha family owned nearly all of the textile factories and farmland around Konoha. They employed nearly everyone in the town, making them easily the richest and most powerful family. It was tacitly understood that The Uchiha family was more than a little corrupt, and Sakura wasn't exactly sure what that entailed.

It had been one reason she ultimately let go of her girlhood crush on bad boy Sasuke.

But she couldn't let go of Madara's gaze. It rooted her in place and left her feeling cold from the tips of her ears to her toes. There was something about the stern set of his mouth that made her feel patronized, and the disapproval, both unwarranted and undeserved, made her frown.

Ripping her gaze away, she headed for Tsunade, who stood near the bar, of course. She tossed back an ounce of whiskey as Sakura neared her.

"Neji is getting on my nerves," Sakura seethed.

Tsunade rolled her eyes. "I hate to break it to you," she said as she gestured for the bartender to give her another whiskey, "but all of them are going to get on your nerves. At least Neji is somewhat tolerable."

Sakura wanted more than tolerable, but beggars can't be choosers.

"He thinks you and I are an item," Sakura said dryly, glancing out to the crowd of people that had begun to mingle near the staircase. Madara was descending now, his face a well-practiced and warm smile. He greeted the crowd at the bottom of the stairs.

"He wishes," Tsunade murmured. "This whole town is filled with perverts and morons."

As if on cue, Jiraiya ambled into view. For once he was dressed nicely in a tailored suit and his usually unkempt hair had been pulled back into a neat ponytail. Though he didn't belong to any of the founding families, his closeness with the Uchiha family often allowed him to attend events like these even when he wasn't invited.

"What are you doing here?" Tsunade asked dryly and he approached with a wicked grin.

"I came to see if my two favorite girls needed some company," he teased, winking at Sakura as he moved to Tsunade's side.

Tsunade gave Sakura a knowing look. Discreetly, Sakura moved away from them. Tsunade was embarrassed by her sordid trysts with Jiraiya, and Sakura didn't blame her. The man was a pervert.

Irritated afresh, Sakura shrunk back against the wall. Her plans foiled, she felt desperately alone. Social functions like this weren't her scene. She wanted nothing more than pizza and a soft blanket and a good novel.

It was too early to leave, too early to admit defeat. She should try Neji again, but she needed more time to recuperate from him.

She slunk along the perimeter of the party, her eyes scanning for another tray of champagne flutes. She caught one and sipped, already feeling the dizzying effects of the bubbles and the warmth the alcohol spread through her bones.

With her wits still mostly in tact, she remained a wallflower, sipping champagne and watching the banquet unfold before her. It was truly a splendid party in a gorgeous home. She was lucky to be able to attend such a party when she had no real merits to, no pedigree like the rest of these meatsacks.

Sakura almost felt contempt for these families and how they poised themselves above everyone else in Konoha. If she didn't know many of them personally, she might have.

"Dr. Haruno."

At the sound of her name, Sakura turned. The rich timbre belonged to a man nearly twice her size, and as she craned her neck to look up at his face, realization dawned on her.

Dryness found her throat again, stealing whatever words she might have conjured.

"I don't recall inviting you," he said, though he didn't sound unfriendly. "Tell me who you belong to."

She blinked at him, remembering his cold gaze from before. Did he not want her here?

"I-I'm Tsunade's plus one," she stammered, her gaze flitting around his broad chest, searching for a familiar face to rescue her. She only spotted Sasuke, still on the other side of the room, though through some miraculous twist of fate, he chose that moment to look up from his conversation with Neji (of all people) and meet her gaze.

"That's not what I asked."

Confused, Sakura brought her gaze back to Madara's face. He was looming over her now, and it sort of frightened her.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," she said, hating her meekness. She was a doctor, and a damn good one. She straightened her spine, but it didn't make her feel any more confident.

"No?" Madara asked. "So you must not belong to anyone, then."

"Of course not," she breathed. No one could own her.

A predatory grin unfurled on Madara's face. The sight of it sent a wash of coldness down her spine.

"Pardon me," he said, his voice the epitome of etiquette and grace. "I've been very rude. I'm Madara Uchiha. Welcome to my home, darling. I hope you enjoy the party."

/

Disturbed by the encounter with Madara, Sakura was sufficiently purged of her irritation with Neji. Trying to shake thoughts of Madara's red eyes from her mind, she squared her shoulders and found Neji near the staircase.

"Dr. Haruno," he said again as she approached. Another flute of champagne had found its way to her hand. By now she had lost count of how many she'd consumed, but she knew that there was plenty of alcohol to warm her blood and calm her nerves.

"Neji," she said boldly. "Please, call me Sakura."

She fluttered her lashes and looked down at his mouth. They had known each other for so long. Why did this feel so awkward?

"Something in your eye?" he asked her.

A stab of annoyance cut through the blurring effects of the alcohol. Ignoring it, she lifted her hand to cup his bicep.

"No, silly," she said, but the words didn't have the charm she'd intended.

Then, a hand gripped her elbow from behind. Before she could turn to face whoever was accosting her, a warm and solid presence was against her back.

"Dr. Haruno," said a hauntingly familiar voice, which rumbled deeply in the chest that was pressed against her back. "I think Mr. Hyuuga might be right."

Firm hands gripped her arms and turned her around to face him. Too inebriated to do much other than blink, she stared at him. He peered into her eyes, and it was then that she was struck by just how handsome he actually was. Though he was old enough to be her father (maybe even grandfather), there was a youthful and boyish charm in the crinkle of his eyes that made Sakura nearly swoon.

Fortunately, he was physically holding her upright. "No," he said with a gentle shake of his head. "I don't see anything those stunning eyes of yours except for maybe a little disdain. Not for me, I hope."

She blinked again, and pulled her arms from his grasp.

"For Neji," she almost said, but stopped herself just in time. She didn't dislike Neji. But she could concede that by now she was only after his money.

"Not for you," she said instead, still a little unnerved that Madara Uchiha was deigning her worthy of his attention.

"Good," he said, and without any further explanation, he began to drag her up the stairs.

/

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, sobering up while he dragged her by the elbow. Her voice was kept low – the crowd of people at the base of the stairs could still hear.

She felt a tight rage coiling inside her. Who did he think he was that he could just drag her around as if she were nothing more than a doll for him to play with?

"I've decided that you belong to me now, Dr. Haruno," he said without glancing back at her. His fingers were hot where they curled around her arm. "I'm going to show you why."

Against all her better instincts, Sakura was curious.

/

"Do not flirt with Neji again."

The command was uttered with such authority that Sakura couldn't help but readily agree. Her head bobbed with an affirmative nod before she could remember that she needed to flirt with Neji.

"Good," Madara said, pleased by her acquiescence. "You're very bad at flirting, but even so Neji does not deserve your attention."

"Doesn't he?" she asked in surprise. She was the gold digger. He was supposed to be the victim.

Madara sighed, and it was then that Sakura noticed she had been brought to a study – his, she presumed. It was minimalistic, but expensively so, and it smelled strongly of bourbon and vanilla. He stood in front of his desk, his ass braced against it, arms crossed over his chest.

"Of course he doesn't," Madara insisted.

"And you do?" she asked dryly, brash even as she was sobering up.

"Yes, Dr. Haruno," he said impishly. "Because I have eyes and ears everywhere and I know the true reason you chose to flirt with Neji tonight and it has nothing to do with any attraction toward him."

She narrowed her eyes at him, repulsed by the idea that he might have been spying on her or Tsunade.

"Is that so?" she asked, tapping her toe. She watched as his amused gaze traveled from her face down the length of her body to her black pumps.

"Did you think you could seduce him with those mediocre flirting skills?" he teased. There was a seriousness in his tone, but she wanted to laugh when the velvety rich sound of his chuckle washed over her.

"It's not like that," she insisted. "Neji and I, we could be something."

Madara shook his head with a condescending cluck. "I don't think so, dear," he said, reaching for her. Sakura hesitantly allowed him to tug her closer by the lapel of her blazer. Standing inches away from one another, she could feel the heat from his chest.

He tilted his head and watched her while she grappled for something to say. She felt disrespected for having been brought here and for his accusations and the way he had touched her. Still, as before when she had first seen him, she was captured by his gaze, frozen.

"Kiss me," he said. "I could tell from looking at you across the room that your kisses are worth a million dollars apiece."

As if spelled into obedience, Sakura stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her closed lips to his. An illicit chill ran through her. This man was dangerous, old enough to be her father, one of Sasuke's family members. Kissing him was like kissing a grinning shark.

"Maybe half a million," he said when she pulled away.

She gripped his lapel and pulled him quickly into another kiss. This time she was eager to please. Her lips parted, her tongue prodded, and then she was swept away by a current of warmth and arousal led by the callous way his hands found their way to her ass and squeezed, and the probing exploration of his tongue.

It was too much for her to stand, but Madara held her up by her ass, lifting her so she could straddle his waist.

"Ten million," he bartered when she pulled away from him, gasping. Her skin felt electric; her heart pounded in her chest where it was pressed against his. She had never kissed anyone like this before, never even dreamed of it.

"Yes," she agreed, the word pouring into his mouth as she captured his lips with hers again. She delighted when he hummed appreciatively into the kiss. "Another ten million for that one. Twenty million and five hundred thousand dollars. When can I expect my payment, Mr. Uchiha?"

With no warning, he dropped her to her feet, spun her around, and forced her to bend over his desk. Sakura gasped when she felt his hard erection against her ass, and hissed when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and not so gently tugged until she was looking at him.

Part of her was furious at being manhandled in such a way. Another darker and more sensual part of her was thrilled.

"Sakura," he murmured softly – a sharp juxtaposition against the rough way his fingers had tightened into her scalp. "May I call you Sakura?"

Her eyes met his, hers glistening with smarting tears. She could refuse the request. He seemed to earnestly be awaiting her answer.

Madara Uchiha was a man with money and power. He was more capable than Neji was of funding her research. Not only that, but he was gloriously primal – an image of pure masculinity standing over her like this. His dark hair fell in thick waves around his shoulders, his pale skin seemed to glow tautly over the rough scrape of his jaw.

Sakura could suddenly think of nothing but what it might feel like to press that face to the now throbbing place between her legs. The sordid thought brought fire to her cheeks, which seemed to amuse her captor. He pressed his erection tighter against her – she could feel its impressive hardness straining against both his pants and hers.

"Call me whatever you want," she said, her words catching on the arousal that was quickly dousing her entire body.

Abruptly, he pulled her upright, holding her back tightly against his chest. His hand came to her throat, gentle and tender where his calloused fingers brushed her chin and turned her face to look at him.

He was damn near hypnotic this close. Dark, curly lashes framed the most lurid and captivating eyes she had ever seen – even Sasuke's, so similar but with none of the flame and mischief she was drowning in now. She was caught in his vice grip, but instead of moving away, she was magnetically drawn to his mouth, those sexy, smirking lips that needed to be kissed right now.

"Sakura," he said, rolling the syllables over his tongue. His eyes darted around her face, curious as they appreciatively drank her in. "I saw your picture in the paper." He released his grip on her chin, but held her against his chest with an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She could still feel his dangerously growing erection. "The moment I saw you I felt that I'd been done a great injustice by not having been included in your study."

The hammer of her heart began to thud harder. "I didn't mean to insult you, Mr. Uchiha—"

"Sakura, darling, please call me Madara." For emphasis, he pressed his erection harder against her.

She muffled her flustered and aroused groan and cleared her throat. "I didn't think that the head of the Uchiha family would be able to make time for something so trivial," she explained, but the truth was that she had avoided the Uchiha family save for Mikoto, whom she trusted with her life, and Izumi, who was about as non-threatening as an Uchiha could be.

"If I had known how striking your eyes were, you would have been my prime candidate for the study," she added, sensing that her answer was unsatisfactory to him when he frowned at her.

His gaze met hers. Something intense and inexplicable was in his eyes. The heat of it terrified her, but then he stepped away from her. Instinctively, she backed up, inviting him to bring back the warmth of his body. The crotch of her suit was damp now, and the throb between her legs stole most of the attention she should have been giving to getting some money out of him.

Another amused chuckle settled around her like a soft blanket. "Sit, Sakura," he said, gesturing to the leather cushioned chair opposite his desk. It was less of a chair and more of a sofa, large enough for four of her to sit on. She slunk down into the chair, watching raptly as he crossed to the other side of the desk and sat down.

He reached into one of the lower drawers in his desk and pulled out a rather expensive looking bottle of bourbon. He pulled the glass stopper from the bottle and took a swig directly from its mouth.

"Would you like some?" he asked, holding the bottle out for her.

She stared hesitantly for a moment. The effects of the champagne were starting to go away. She should be sober for this. She was obviously in danger, though what kind she didn't know.

But a sinister voice in her head told her to reach for the bottle anyway. She took a sip, pressing her lips to the glass where Madara's had just been. She swallowed, wincing as heat whorled down into her stomach.

"Why do you need money, Sakura?" Madara asked as he placed the stopper back in the bottle and stored it back in its place.

Caught off guard by the question, she blinked. Honesty was the only answer, though she hated to come clean and admit that she was here solely for gold digging purposes.

"To fund my genetic research with Dr. Senju," she explained.

"More eye color studies?" he quipped, his tone teasing in spite of the serious nature of her work.

"No," she said with a scowl. "I think the incestuous way the founding families kept their bloodlines pure for generations led to an increased number of genetic diseases that's now concentrated in Konoha."

Madara now seemed caught off guard. His red and horrifying eyes widened at the implication, blazing furiously. Sakura shrunk back in the chair, intimidated by his sharp gaze.

"I think it's important that we get a leg up on that research now," she continued, knowing that she was unequivocally right here, even if it was nerve-wracking to speak to him like this. "We don't want to wait until these diseases reach an untreatable stage."

Madara's mouth, which had fallen open for a few brief seconds to marvel at Sakura's words, closed. He swallowed, his gaze traveling from her face down to what he could see of her body. Silence stretched between them. Sakura relaxed against the leather, feeling warm and content from the bourbon.

"What a sweet girl you are," he finally said. "How benevolent of you to pursue such research."

"I'm not a girl," she insisted. She was Dr. Sakura Haruno.

"You are my girl now," he said firmly. "You were my girl the moment you stepped into my house."

He stood and crossed back to her side of the desk. He sat down beside her; she shifted to accommodate him. The hard mass of his thigh pressed against her much smaller one.

"That's not true," she said.

He nodded and reached for a lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers with curiosity. "It is true," he argued. "You came here looking for money, and you came to the right place. You are mine now, so I will give you whatever amount you need for your research."

Sakura scooted away from him, trying to put distance between them. His body intoxicated her far more than the bourbon did.

"That sounds really close to prostitution," she said, a little unsure of herself now.

He laughed, not a chuckle this time but the real rich and luxurious thing. How could a laugh sound like chocolate and velvet and fire?

"Sakura, baby, you came here to whore yourself out to Neji for a check," he said. "I think I'm offering you something far more satisfactory."

"It's not like that," she said. He was inching closer to her, but she couldn't feel enough contempt for him to move away. His warm breath fanned over her neck and an alluring, teasing smile played at his lips. "Neji and I—"

"You and Neji are nothing," he snapped, irritation whipping onto his face like it had been slapped there. "You and I…" he said, taking one of her hands in his. "We could be something. I knew as soon as I saw you."

She shuddered as his thumb brushed across the back of her hand. He flipped it over, brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to her palm.

"Stop saying that," she said, though she didn't retract her hand. "What does that even mean?"

He smiled, leaning closer to her. His nose brushed along her cheek and he inhaled, huffing the scent of her like it was a fragrant bloom.

"Have you ever imagined yourself a wildly spinning planet, hurling through space, desperately seeking something to orbit?"

Sakura shook her head. The alcohol made his words sound warbled, but the sharp smell of his cologne grounded her, though it also beckoned her closer to the warmth of his broad chest.

"I think I'd like to orbit you," he said, sounding rather amused with himself. His finger found her cheek and traced a line down to her neck. Sakura's breath hitched in her throat and she leaned into his touch.

Madara lowered his face until his mouth was inches from hers. "I think I could get easily sucked in by your gravity."

She didn't know whether or not to be offended. Her brain diluted her thoughts while she tried to work out if there was an innuendo in there. Dizzied by his presence and the bourbon, she reached for his chest, hooking her fingers into his lapel.

"Looks like you're getting sucked into mine," he teased.

"Madara," she said, bracing her hand against his chest. "Do you want to fuck me?" she asked. The bourbon made her courageous. "Is that what I have to do to get the money?"

Deftly, he scooped up one of her thighs and pulled her onto his lap. Sakura was too drunk to do anything but acquiesce, and found herself perched atop his lap. Against her better judgment, she found his lap to be the most pleasurable and comforting place she had ever been.

Her dark-haired suitor seemed to agree. He hummed with pleasure and leaned forward to press a kiss in the hollow of her throat.

"The money is already yours, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers curling into her hips. "I don't want to be your sugar daddy. Though I don't hate the idea of you calling me daddy."

A hot blush burned her cheeks. She gripped his broad shoulders for balance, marveling at the dense muscle beneath his blazer. Curious and blitzed, she tugged on his lapel until he obligingly slid himself free from the jacket. In just a fitted white shirt, he was an entirely different animal. He was so warm, so hard, his pink nipples distended and visible through the thin fabric.

"You'd fuck me even if I didn't give you a penny," Madara mused, a grin plastered on his face. Madara was a man who made many public appearances, but Sakura couldn't recall a single time she had ever seen him smile like that before. His pragmatic and domestic smiles had their own charm, but this expression was something else, something bright and explosive and just for Sakura.

"Yes," she agreed. She didn't consider herself loose in any sense of the word, but she knew that her body was undeniably craving something that he could easily give her. It wouldn't have been like this with Neji. Madara had been right all along.

"Exhibit A," he said, fingering her lapel now. He glanced up at her face in askance and then tugged her free from her jacket. "You belong to me because you want to," he explained. "Because you know I will take care of you."

She gave him a look of incredulous disbelief. She was a doctor. That she needed taking care of was more laughable than the fact that she had somehow ended up on Madara Uchiha's lap when she should have been down at the banquet with everyone else. Was Tsunade wondering where she was?

"You don't believe me," he said with a frown.

"I don't need taking care of," she insisted firmly.

He smirked, trailing his fingers softly down her spine over the fabric of her thin white blouse. "Everyone needs taking care of," he said as she shuddered under his touch. Fingers skittered around her waist and up to her breasts. He cupped her breasts, his eyes still locked onto hers. Sakura inhaled, arching into his touch.

"Even an intelligent and accomplished woman like you."

This was exactly the kind of thing to make her swoon, and she suspected Madara knew this well. If he was manipulating her, he was so damn good at it that Sakura didn't even care.

"How would you take care of me?" she demanded, wriggling atop his lap. He only seemed amused with her antics. He let go of her and folded his hands behind his head.

"I would start by making you cum harder than you ever have in your entire life," he explained casually, though Sakura's face felt like she'd been left out in the sun too long. "And then for good measure I'd make you cum about ten more times. I wouldn't stop until this wrinkle here disappears."

He pressed this tip of his finger between her brows. Indignant, Sakura shoved his hand away.

"Is that what it means to belong to you?" she hissed. "I just cum all the time?"

That enchanting grin lit up his face again as he nodded. Sakura was once again struck by the boyishness of his smile. "Doesn't that sound lovely?" he asked, cupping her cheek and brushing his thumb over her lips. "You smart, beautiful little creature. Why did it take so long for us to cross paths?"

His words confused her. "What do you mean?"

"I saw your pretty face in the paper months ago," he said, his gaze dreamy as he stroked her hair with one hand and her lips with the other thumb. "I found the subject of your study rather boring, but I see now that it was a tactic to garner interest in your genetic research. You cunning girl."

Heartbeats thudded against her ribcage. No one had spoken to her like this before, and she was beginning to grow drunk off his honeyed words.

"You're the kind of girl who can conquer the world, aren't you?" he asked. She felt warm all over. His hands smoothed over her face and came down to cup her neck. They felt warm and calloused and strong against her sensitive skin.

"I'm not a girl," she argued, pouting like a little girl in her inebriation.

"You are," he reassured her, the words a caress, as if she had been worried by her lack of girlhood. "You're my girl."

"Mr. Uchiha—"

He silenced her with a kiss, a groan of irritation rumbling low in his chest. "Don't call me that, baby girl," he growled against her lips. "Say my name."

"Madara," she said obediently, trembling now that his lips had found hers again. If she were sober she could never stand these aching ministrations. Even now she felt a glorious and pleading pressure between her legs. "I don't know what you want from me."

Their lips still brushed against each other, though they had both paused to catch their breath. Sakura felt entirely too warm in her suit pants and blouse, and she could see Madara's dress shirt sticking to his skin where his chest had been pressed against hers.

"I want nothing more than to make you cum right now, darling," he said, ever smooth, his voice lilting and dripping with charm. "Unfortunately I have a houseful of guests at the moment. As much as it would thrill me for them to hear your wanton shrieking, I doubt the families would be too pleased with it."

"You could gag me," she suggested, the thought burbling up from a dark recess of her mind that she hadn't even realized existed until now.

It must have been exactly what he wanted to hear, because the waning erection beneath her crotch began to harden again.

"Get up," he instructed, smacking her lightly on the ass.

Obediently, Sakura stood, her brows furrowed while she awaited further instruction. Had she done something wrong?

"Put your blazer on and go back to the party," he said. "Mingle and enjoy yourself. Once the guests start to leave I want you to come back to this room. Lock the door behind you. I'm the only one with a key." He stood up and helped her adjust the lapel of her blazer. "I want you to be naked when I return. Do you understand?"

Heat curled up in her stomach, gushing through her veins. She never imagined she'd be aroused by being spoken to this way, but she was eager to please him and filled with desire. "I understand," she murmured, desperately wishing to lean up on her toes and kiss him but lacking the confidence to do it.

"Good girl," he said, and her clit was aching between her legs. "Go." He swatted her ass again. She crossed her arms tightly over her tender breasts and made her way to the door.

"Don't speak to Neji again," he called to her just as she was shutting the door.

"I won't."

/

AN: Okay, so this was supposed to be a oneshot, but it kind of got away from me. It's going to be a four or five parter, I think but it's really jus an excuse to practice writing smut. The biggest criticism I get from publishers regarding romance novels is that my smut needs work.

So please give what constructive criticism you can, and also let me know why kinds of smutty scenes/fics you want to see bc I'm going to hunker down into steamy smut mode and just practice that for a while.