Chapter 7: My first
The neon strip-lights hummed, a sound Kushina only now noticed, as if someone had just unmuted the world. The cold of the mirrored wall seeped through her flushed skin. His body, still pressed against her from behind, felt like a monument of heat and solid muscle. His breath was warm on her ear. Her own question hung in the air, dissolving into the sterile scent of ozone and cologne.
Who do you love the most?
A stupid, desperate, womanly thing to ask a whore. Even one who felt like this.
Naruto didn’t pull away. He shifted, just slightly, his hand sliding from her hip to splay possessively across her lower stomach, holding her snug against him. He let out a low, soft chuckle that vibrated through her spine.
“That’s a heavy question for an hour in, princess.”
“I paid for the whole night.” Her voice was ragged, stripped raw. She was trembling, and it wasn’t from the cold. “Answer it.”
He was silent for a long moment. His stillness was worse than the motion. She could feel him thinking, weighing. The Fox, the legend, deciding how much truth to spend.
“You want to know who was first?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. His tone changed, the professional veneer cracking to show something younger, more fervent. “The first was… everything. My first. Her first. We were kids, figuring it out. All clumsy hands and shaky breaths and not having a fucking clue what we were doing, but it was… real. It burned. Nothing in any of these suites has ever come close.”
Kushina’s heart was a frantic animal in her chest. She stared at their reflection—his bowed head, her wide, shocked eyes, the obscene, intimate joining of their bodies framed by clinical neon. A pang of something like jealousy, sharp and bitter, lanced through her.
“Who is she?” The words were a whisper.
His blue eyes, so like her own, met hers in the mirror. The charisma was gone. What looked back was naked, unguarded, and terrifyingly sincere.
“Big sister Tayuya.”
The world didn’t shatter. It inverted. The plush velvet, the marble, the holographic ads for ‘peak performance’—they all folded in on themselves like cheap theatre sets. The name echoed in the silent, humming room.
Tayuya.
Her daughter. Her firstborn. The severe, crimson-haired girl who ran her logistics division with an iron will. Who she’d had young. Who she’d maybe, in her busyness, neglected. Who lived in her own wing of the estate.
Naruto felt her entire body lock up. He pressed deeper, a deliberate, grounding stroke that forced a choked gasp from her throat. “My older sister. I love her. We’re in love. Three years now.”
“You… you’re…” Kushina couldn’t form the words. My son. My son is the Fox. My son is inside me.
“We learned everything together,” he continued, his voice a hypnotic rumble against her back. “How to touch. How to kiss. What feels good. We got really, really good at it. We had to. This world… it’s a desert. We found an oasis in each other. And then we figured, why keep it to ourselves?” He grinned then, a familiar, fox-like smirk she’d seen a thousand times across the dinner table, now drenched in a completely new, horrifying context. “She’s the manager of Sage Mode. Built it for me. For us. We’re the architects here, mom. Not the clients.”
Mom.
The word detonated in the space between them. All pretense evaporated. The last possible shield of denial was vaporized. Kushina made a sound, a raw, broken whimper that was part agony, part overwhelming, shameful arousal. Her knees buckled.
He held her up effortlessly, turning her in his arms to face him. She couldn’t meet his eyes. She stared at the golden stubble on his jaw, the line of his throat, the powerful column of his neck she used to kiss as a child when he had fevers.
“Look at me,” he commanded, not as the Fox, but as Naruto. Her son.
Her gaze dragged upwards. The love in his eyes was real. It was also monstrous. It was everything she’d ached for—passionate, devoted, consuming—and it was aimed at her through a lens of such profound transgression that her mind short-circuited.
“Does she… know?” Kushina managed, her mind latching onto the logistical, the procedural, to avoid the emotional canyon yawning beneath her. “About tonight? About… me?”
“She booked you,” he said simply, his thumbs tracing her cheekbones. “She screens all the high-level clients. She knew it was you the second the alias hit the system. ‘Red Princess.’ Really, mom?”
A sob hiccuped out of Kushina. Humiliation, hot and complete, washed over her. They’d known. They’d orchestrated this.
“Why?” It was the only word left.
Naruto’s expression softened, just a fraction. He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, a gesture so intimately familiar it shattered her completely. “Because you were hungry. You are. I can feel it. You’ve been starving in a gilded cage your whole life. And we…” He pulled back, his eyes gleaming with a possessive fire. “We have the only food in town. Family should share, right?”
He moved then, not back to the wall, but towards the surgical bed. He laid her down on the sterile silk, following her down, covering her, his weight a confession and a sentence all at once. The suite, her world, had been reduced to this: her son’s face above her, his body a promise of forbidden knowledge, and the devastating understanding that the manager, the architect of her ruin and her only possible pleasure, was her own daughter, watching from somewhere behind the scenes, approving.
He entered her again, slowly this time, with a terrible, deliberate tenderness that made her cry out.
“Tayuya loves you too,” he whispered, beginning to move, a deep, relentless rhythm that spoke of endless stamina and practiced, devastating skill. “She just thought you needed a more… hands-on lesson.”
Kushina’s vision blurred. The neon smeared into watery streaks. Her body, traitorous and alive, began to climb again, chasing a peak that now felt like falling off the edge of the world. She clutched at his shoulders, her perfectly manicured nails digging into skin she’d bathed as a baby, and let the dark, welcoming tide take her under.