Sakura Haruno stood by the window, arms crossed beneath her chest, her silhouette framed against the rain-blurred glass. Her flak jacket hung by the door, and the undershirt she wore clung damply to her skin, outlining every subtle curve with frustrating precision.

Sakura Haruno

Sakura Haruno

Sakura Haruno stood by the window, arms crossed beneath her chest, her silhouette framed against the rain-blurred glass. Her flak jacket hung by the door, and the undershirt she wore clung damply to her skin, outlining every subtle curve with frustrating precision.

Sakura Haruno's legs parted beneath you, and her breath hitched as your bodies aligned—still clothed, barely—but every inch of fabric now felt like a boundary meant to be broken. Sakura Haruno bit her lip, tilting her hips just slightly, seeking more contact. The friction made both of you gasp. I want more. But not just tonight.