Chapter 6: Feasting on Forbidden Fruit
The taste of her own release was still a phantom tang on his tongue. Naruto watched the aftershocks tremble through her, her body loosening into the stained sheets. For a moment, she looked like a stranger—a woman ravished, undone. Then her eyes, hazy with spent pleasure, focused on his face, and she was just his mom again, flushed and vulnerable. The dichotomy was a drug.
He didn’t let her come down.
“Still with me?” he asked, his voice rough. He didn’t wait for an answer. His hands, large and sure, slid down her shaking thighs, applying gentle pressure. “Open up for me. Let me see all of you.”
A weak, embarrassed sound escaped her. She’d been naked before him for minutes that felt like hours, but this felt different. This was a deliberate offering. Her legs, feeling boneless, fell open, revealing everything. The humid air of the room touched her, a shocking contrast to the heat she radiated. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch him look.
But he made her. “Look at me, mom .” The use of her name, ‘mom’, snapped her eyes open. He was settled between her legs, his gaze not on her face but fixed on the core of her, his expression one of concentrated reverence. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.
He didn’t dive in immediately. He traced a single, calloused finger through her damp curls, then lower, a feather-light touch along her outer lips. She jerked, a gasp hissing through her teeth. “So sensitive already,” he observed, a dark smile playing on his lips. “And so fucking wet for me.” He showed her his finger, glistening in the neon light.
“Naruto, please…” The ‘please’ was a broken thing, meaning everything and nothing.
“Please what?” he prompted, lowering his head so his breath, warm and unsettling, washed over her. “Use your words.”
She couldn’t. Shame and want tied her tongue. She just lifted her hips, a silent, desperate plea.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered, and the possessive pronoun shattered her.
Then his mouth was on her.
It wasn’t a kiss. It was a claiming. His tongue, broad and hot, licked a long, firm stripe from her entrance to her clit. Kushina cried out, her hands flying to fist in his blond hair, not to push him away but to hold him there. The sensation was blinding, too direct, too good after years of neglect. He groaned against her, the vibration traveling straight into her marrow.
He established a ruthless rhythm. His tongue lashed her clit with focused, flicking strikes, then swirled around it, before plunging down to fuck into her with shallow, driving thrusts. He tasted her deeply, his nose buried in her, breathing her in. The obscene, wet sounds filled the room, louder than the humming light, more real than the world outside. One of his hands came up to press firmly on her lower belly, pinning her, while the other slid beneath her ass, tilting her pelvis to give him better access.
“Yeah, just like that,” he grunted, coming up for air, his chin slick. “Gonna eat this pussy until you’re screaming. Gonna make you cum down my throat so hard you forget your own name.” The filth in his words, spoken in the voice that had once asked for help with homework, detonated inside her.
He dove back in, his assault more intense. He sucked her clit between his lips, applying a gentle, rhythmic pressure before releasing it with a pop and laving it with his tongue. His fingers joined the fray, two sliding into her with an easy stretch that made her sob. He curled them, finding a spot inside that made her vision whiten. He fucked her with his mouth and his fingers in a counterpoint that stripped her mind bare.
“Naruto… I’m… I can’t…”
“You can,” he growled against her flesh. “You will. Cum for me. Now.”
It was an order. The pressure in her coiled, impossibly tight, a second tsunami building from the ruins of the first. His tongue flickered rapidly over her swollen bud, his fingers pumping, curling, relentless. The pleasure was a live wire, searing and unbearable. She broke.
A raw, guttural scream tore from her throat, un-muffled, uncaring who might hear. Her body arched so violently only his grip kept her from sliding off the bed. This climax was different, deeper, a rolling, convulsive wave that seemed to pull from the very pit of her soul. She flooded his mouth, her thighs clamping around his head as she shook, utterly possessed by the sensation.
He rode it out with her, his movements gentling, lapping softly, drinking every drop as she pulsed around his fingers. When the last tremor subsided, she collapsed, completely spent, a tear tracing a path from the corner of her eye into her hairline.
Naruto lifted himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked drunk, his eyes heavy-lidded, his own need a hard, angry line straining against his stomach. He leaned over her, caging her with his arms.
“See?” he said, his voice hoarse. “I take care of what’s mine.” He reached for the nightstand, the old wood groaning in protest. The foil packet of a condom rustled in the quiet.
The sound brought her back, more than her own screaming had. Her eyes, wide and damp, tracked his hands as he sheathed himself, the latex rolling down that terrifying length. This was it. The final gate.
He positioned himself, the blunt, massive head of his cock nudging against her soaked, sensitive entrance. He was slick with her, with his saliva, but the size was ludicrous. A fresh, primal fear flashed through her post-orgasm haze.
“Naruto… wait. It’s too…”
“Shhh,” he soothed, leaning down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on his lips. “I’ll go slow. I’ll take care of you. Just relax.” The words were gentle, but the pressure at her threshold was not.
He pushed forward, just an inch.
The stretch was immediate, unbelievable. A sharp cry was ripped from her. It wasn’t pain, not exactly, but a profound, shocking fullness that bordered on violation. Her body resisted, clenching tight.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his forehead dropping to hers, sweat beading on his skin. “You’re so goddamn tight. Just breathe, mom. Breathe for me.”
The ‘mom’ did it. In that moment of overwhelming physical intrusion, it was an anchor. She gasped in a ragged breath, and as she exhaled, he pushed forward again, sinking another impossible inch into her. The sound she made was one of sheer astonishment.
He was inside her. Her son was inside her. The world narrowed to the feeling of being split open, filled beyond capacity, connected to him in the most fundamental, wrong way possible. He stilled, letting her adjust, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.
“Okay?” he gritted out.
She could only nod, her nails digging into his shoulders. It was a lie and the truth. It was hell and heaven. It was everything she’d secretly wanted and everything she should have feared.
He began to move.