With Naruto, he was currently standing in front of Ino's flower shop. The weather had changed—dense rain clouds rolled in thick and low, turning the sky a bruised gray.
No rain fell yet, but the air was heavy with it, charged and damp. A cold breeze swept down the street, brushing against his skin like icy fingers, slipping under the collar of his jacket and raising faint goosebumps along his arms.
'This is the type of weather that needs you to be in your room, playing El Cinco,' he thought, half-smiling at the memory of lazy afternoons with a controller and snacks.
He pushed the door open. The bell above chimed—soft, familiar.
Inside, the shop smelled like fresh earth, cut stems, and the faint sweetness of lilies. Ino sat behind the counter on a high stool, one foot propped on a small wooden crate, the other dangling.
She was trimming her nails with a tiny pair of clippers, blonde ponytail falling over one shoulder, wearing a light purple top and shorts that showed off long legs. The radio played low in the background—some soft pop ballad she probably wasn't even listening to.
She raised her eyes.
The clippers slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the counter.
" Naruto—"
She dropped everything and launched herself over the counter in one fluid motion—arms wide, ponytail whipping behind her.
He caught her mid-air—hands sliding under her thighs, lifting her easily as her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms hooked tight around his neck. She felt light, warm, familiar. Like coming home.
Ino pressed her lips to his immediately—no hesitation.
He held her up effortlessly, one arm braced under her, the other sliding up her back to cradle her neck as he kissed her back just as hard.
Their lips melted together—slow at first, then hungry. Tongues clashed, wet and desperate, tasting of mint and the faint sweetness of whatever tea she'd been drinking earlier.
Her fingers dug into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan low in his throat. His grip tightened on her thighs, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.
Arousal built fast—sharp, electric. Her hips rocked forward instinctively, pressing against him, drawing a rough sound from deep in his chest.
He walked them backward until her back hit the counter edge—gentle but firm—lifting her higher so she sat on it, legs still locked around him.
She broke the kiss just long enough to gasp against his mouth, forehead pressed to his.
"I missed you," she breathed, voice shaky.
"Me too," he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, then the sensitive spot under her ear.
She laughed—soft, breathless, almost disbelieving—and pulled him back into another deep kiss.
The shop felt smaller now. The world outside—rain clouds, war drums, everything—faded to nothing.
There was only the heat of her body against his, the way her nails scraped lightly down his scalp, the soft sounds she made every time his tongue brushed hers.
He slid one hand under her top—palm flat against the warm skin of her lower back—feeling her arch into the touch. She tugged at his jacket zipper, impatient, needy.
"Door," she mumbled against his lips.
He reached back without breaking the kiss—flipped the sign to "Closed" with one hand and slid the lock shut.
The bell chimed once more. Then it was just them. Naruto kicked the door to the back room shut with his heel—soft *thud*—locking out the front of the shop.
The space was small, cluttered with extra vases, stacks of wrapping paper, a low workbench covered in loose petals and ribbons.
A single bulb hung overhead, warm yellow light spilling down, turning everything intimate, close.
Ino was still wrapped around him—legs locked at the ankles behind his back, arms tight around his neck, lips never leaving his.
She kissed like she'd been starving for it—hungry, messy, all teeth and tongue and little desperate sounds that vibrated against his mouth.
Her fingers dug into his hair, tugging just hard enough to sting, pulling him deeper.
He walked them forward until her back hit the workbench. Petals scattered under her thighs—soft pink and white fluttering to the floor like confetti. He lifted her higher, setting her on the edge, stepping between her legs so she could feel his dick pressed against her.
Their kisses turned frantic. Tongues sliding, wet and hot, tasting each other like it was the first time all over again.
Her hands yanked at his jacket —impatient, fumbling—until it gave.
She shoved the fabric off his shoulders; he let it drop, never breaking contact.
His palms slid under her top—warm skin, smooth curve of her waist, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts. She arched into him with a sharp gasp, nipples already hard against the thin fabric.
He cupped her fully—thumbs circling slow, teasing, deliberate pressure that made her nipples tighten even more under his touch. Ino moaned into his mouth—low, needy, the sound vibrating against his tongue as her hips rocked forward instinctively, grinding her soaked heat against the thick bulge straining in his pants.
"God, Naruto—" Her voice cracked, breathy and desperate. "Touch me."
He didn't need telling twice.
He hooked his fingers under the hem of her top and tugged it upward in one smooth motion. The fabric dragged over her skin, blonde hair spilling wild and messy as it came free. No bra. Just perfect, flushed skin glowing in the dim back-room light—breasts full and heavy, nipples dark pink and already peaked, begging for more.
Naruto dipped his head without hesitation, taking one into his mouth. Tongue flicked once—teasing—then he sucked hard, lips sealing tight around the sensitive bud, pulling with steady, rhythmic pressure.
Ino's head fell back against the wall with a soft *thump*, fingers tightening painfully in his hair, pulling him closer as her back arched off the workbench.
"Yes—fuck—right there—"
He groaned against her skin, the vibration making her whimper louder. He switched sides, giving the other the same attention—teeth grazing just enough to sting sweetly, tongue swirling, sucking until her thighs trembled hard around his waist and her hips jerked in needy little rolls.
One hand slid down her stomach—fingers deftly popping the button on her shorts, zipper rasping down with a sharp *zip*. He slipped inside—past the waistband of her panties—and found her soaked.
The thin cotton clung to her folds, slick and hot against his fingertips, her arousal already dripping down her inner thighs.
He rubbed slow circles over her clit through the fabric—firm, steady pressure—feeling her thighs shake harder, hips bucking forward in desperate, needy rolls.
She bucked against his hand—whimpering, chasing every stroke—nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave red crescents through his shirt.
"I need you inside—please—now—"
"Be patient," he muttered against her breast, voice low and rough, almost a growl, sending another shiver through her.
He pushed the soaked fabric of her panties aside—two fingers sliding into her heat in one slow, deliberate push. She clenched around him instantly—wet, tight, scalding—a broken moan tearing from her throat.
"Ahh—yes—"
He pumped slow at first—curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made her gasp and clench harder—then faster, deeper, thumb circling her clit in tight, relentless loops.
Her hips rocked desperately—riding his hand, chasing every stroke—nails raking down his back, leaving stinging trails through his shirt.
She kissed him again—messy, open-mouthed, swallowing each other's moans. The wet sounds of his fingers plunging in and out filled the small room—slick, obscene, perfect—mixing with her breathless whimpers and his low groans.
"Naruto—I'm—gonna—"
"Come for me," he growled against her lips, voice wrecked.
She shattered.
Back arching off the workbench, thighs clamping tight around his hand, a sharp cry muffled against his mouth as she pulsed around his fingers—hot, rhythmic waves squeezing him hard.
Her whole body trembled—riding the high, shuddering through every aftershock until she went limp against him, forehead dropping to his shoulder, panting raggedly.
He slowed his movements—gentle now—curling softly inside her, thumb brushing feather-light over her oversensitive clit until she whimpered and twitched.
He kissed her through it—slow, deep, swallowing her soft sighs.
When she finally caught her breath, she lifted her head—eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and shiny.
"I want to suck yours," she whispered, voice hoarse and wrecked.
She slid off the workbench—legs shaky but determined—and sank to her knees in front of him.
Naruto's breath hitched hard.
"Ino—"
She didn't let him finish.
Her fingers worked his drawstring—quick, impatient—untied it, then tugged his pants and boxers down just enough.
His cock sprang free—hard, long, thick, flushed dark at the tip, already leaking a bead of precum that glistened in the low light.
She looked up at him—eyes dark, hungry, pupils blown wide—then leaned in.
TO BE CONTINUED