It happened every time.
They would be making out, and not just tender kisses, but the hot and heavy tongue sucking, hair pulling, body groping type of making out. Haruno Sakura happened to be an amazing kisser, and Kiba always found himself more aroused than he had ever been with another girl, cock throbbing painfully beneath his dark pants. She would stroke him through the material, and allow him to cup her sex through her shorts, the moisture and heat seeping through the fabric.
And then, every time without fail, she would ask him to stop.
And then she would leave, claiming she had somewhere to be or something to do, leaving Kiba incredibly frustrated and sporting a hard-on so persistent and painful that he was guaranteed to spend the next fifteen minutes locked in the bathroom until his problem was resolved.
The first time was an inconvenience, and the second, an annoyance, but she had now pulled this little stunt dozens of times. Kiba didn't know if he could take contracting yet another case of blue balls.
He knew for a fact that Sakura had been sexually active in her past passionate but brief relationship with Shiranui Genma. From the bit of information he had been able to wheedle out of the jounin at the bar while they were still dating, Kiba surmised it wasn't exactly vanilla sex either. Apparently Sakura could be quite adventurous in the bedroom. But then why did she take off running before the fanged shinobi could even get her shirt off?
They had been dating over four months now and Kiba had yet to do more than feel those perfect breasts through the material of her shirt. He hadn't even seen her naked! He supposed what they lacked in sex, they made up for in kissing. They kissed a lot. And while Kiba loved kissing her, loved letting her take control or pinning her down and ravishing her mouth, he was growing more and more frustrated every time she pushed him away.
When asked why, she simply stated she wasn't ready for sex yet, but judging from the damp material of her panties and the smell of her arousal thick in his nostrils, he knew she was more than ready, at least physically. He had waited four months for her to mentally or emotionally prepare, or whatever it was women did before having sex, and still she was coy and aloof. She was all fire and heat and passion until he let his hand snake under her shirt or dip into the waistband of her shorts.
Kiba cared about her deeply and knew he was lucky to be dating such a beautiful and talented kunoichi. But if she left his needs untended one more time, he was going to go out of his fucking mind.
And that's when he got an idea. It wasn't a very nice idea. Hell, in fact, it was probably illegal. She might hate him for it and she could quite possibly leave him, but here he was again with her, alone in his room. Her hand was stroking between his thighs in time with the way she sucked his tongue and Kiba knew he had to have her one way or another. Just when his hands had found purchase on her shapely hips, sliding up her sides and lifting her shirt with it, she pulled away, denying him everything but a glimpse of her pale skin.
"I should go," she whispered, her voice low and husky in her aroused state. Her eyes were dark and hazy, their normally jade depths now a dark emerald. His sensitive nose could smell her desire, practically taste the sweet scent. Why was she leaving? It was obvious she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.
"Don't go," he rasped, grabbing her hand as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed in preparation to stand.
He moved behind her, grasping her short pink locks in his fist and lifting them off her neck to expose the sensitive skin there. He pressed soft kisses to her nape, loving the way she shivered ever so slightly. Her entire body was always so responsive to his touches, arching and moaning at the simplest caress. She seemed sexually charged, like a wild woman driven by hormones and lust lay just beneath the surface. And yet she always kept herself in check, never letting things progress much further then they were now.
