Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were two types of common advice that men tended to give their sons.

The first one went along like this:

"Don't get married."

And the second one was:

"Don't stick your dick in crazy."

For most of his life, Zenzou had faithfully followed those two adages. He had successfully fended off all the marriage offers from the ninja clans, claiming that he was too busy focusing on financing a museum to house his collection of Shonen Jump. And as for the sex thing - if he really needed to get his rocks off, there was usually a nice and sane ugly girl at the Yoshiwara club somewhere who was more than happy to acquiesce to a night in a seedy love hotel, no strings attached. Although he treated them with the cavalier charm of a benefactor, they all understood that he wouldn't be interested in anything deeper than indulging in his strange fetish. It was part of the reasons why he maintained a VIP membership to the fuglies club in the first place.

Sarutobi, on the other hand, most definitely qualified as "crazy". He knew it, the Gintama audience/cast knew it, and Gintoki knew it. Pretty much everyone with common sense could see that pursuing a bonafide relationship with her would result in a complete and utter trainwreck.

However, he rationalized his decisions this way:

1. It was better for her to try doing it with someone she knew. He knew how seedy men could get when it came to a girls' virginity. It wasn't that Sacchan couldn't handle herself when it came to that, but he felt she was far too sentimental to throw away something she had abstained from - however unintentionally - all her life.

2. Most of their colleagues had already assumed that he was the one who took her v-card. Even if it was a lie - at least it meant it wasn't actually out of character for her to follow through with him in the picture.

3. She was probably going to chicken out for the second time once she realized she had to get naked in front of him - and then give up on the idea. This would be the most likely and favorable outcome for everyone involved.

And last but not least, 4. There was actually no way in hell he could convince her not to do This, no matter how colossally stupid of an idea it was. Once Sarutobi had gotten it into her mind to do something, nothing would be able to stop her, not even Marishiten himself. If he actually ended up sleeping with her, at least he could put it into writing that she had requested this.

So when Sarutobi picked up the phone, he was more than prepared to make his case in her favor.

"I changed my mind. I wrote a contract stipulating my terms and conditions for what you asked," he said, courteously. "If you'd like to come over and review it tomorrow, you can take home the fried rice leftovers. It's taking up too much room in my fridge."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah."

There was a pause. "There's a catch, isn't there. I know you."

"No catch, just terms and conditions."

"I bet you're just going to force me sharpen all your kunai for free, aren't you? Or buy a years' supply of Preparation H."

"Good idea, actually. But no. I just figured that it's best to set up some boundaries before someone gets hurt. You've already injured my ass too many times."

That was enough exposition in Zenzou's opinion for him to hang up on her, and quickly flick the settings on his phone to Do Not Disturb. He'd deal with the angry voicemails later, and shuffled into his room to read the latest copy of Shonen Jump Weekly.

He wasn't going to deal with his subordinate more than he had to already.

"Well? What do you think?"

Ayame wanted to throw her cup of coffee at her sick bastard of a boss.

"No sleepovers allowed? You have an estate, Zenzou. You have at least fifty rooms I could crash in after doing the deed."

"My air conditioning bills are getting too high."

"You can afford them!"

"What, you want me to be your boyfriend?"

The sharp tone of his query struck Ayame like a bucket of ice.

Of course. This was supposed to be clinical. A means to an end. If she spent the entire night with him, that would imply that there was something more to it than getting their rocks off. He was only pointing out that any emotional hangups would ruin her goal of attaining Gintoki.

Miffed, she turned over another page of his terms and conditions. She knew her boss was meticulous and highly detail oriented, but having a legal document just to stipulate the terms of conditions for a sexual agreement was insane. Even the high-end escorts in Yoshiwara didn't bother to put anything officially on paper, and they were the ones who billed their clients!

Participants will inform the other party if they choose to pursue other sexual interests, due to health and safety concerns.

Well at least this requirement made sense. Although something in her gut twisted, thinking about her boss being involved with someone else. She decided to ignore that for the time being, and continued reading the rest of the contract. At least her sexual interest in Gintoki was one-sided.

Participants will not spend time with each other outside of work or activities requested which are limited to foreplay, sexual recreation, and aftercare.

She was pretty sure he was trying to stop her from visiting his house on her off-days. That he could reconfigure it into keeping a purely sexual agreement about only sex was very ninja-like of him.

Her boss was still sipping his coffee, as she flipped through another page. He'd put a list of sexual activities where she could mark down Yes, No, or Maybe. It was probably for the best that anal sex was off the list - not that she had any interest in it. Pegging wasn't on it either, for obvious reasons.

She bit the end of her calligraphy pen, and hesitantly checked Yes for blowjobs and cunnilingus. She checked another Yes for penetrative sex.

She hovered a bit over the more kinky stuff, somewhat loathe to reveal her interests in front of her boss. But well... if she wanted more experience, she'd have to be truthful. And anyways, he probably knew most of it already - she wasn't that secretive about what turned her on.

Overstimulation? Yes.

Shibari? A major yes.

Chains and whips? An embarrassing yes.

Dirty talk and degradation? Ayame bit her lip. It would have been super hot if Gintoki did it, but she wasn't sure if it would actually work with someone who had, y'know. Hemorrhoids. He just didn't command that sort of respect for her. She put a No on that one.

The rest of the list was fairly easy, including specifying if she was a dominant, submissive, or switch. Ayame was pretty sure she was a switch - there were aspects of the sub and domme personalities that appealed to her equally. But she couldn't be certain until she actually put it into practice.

The last page was fairly simple.

This arrangement may be ended at any time by either party. Upon termination, no further sexual activity is expected. Both parties will agree to respect each other's boundaries moving forward.

Zenzou had already marked his part of the contract - he'd stamped his family crest with his name on it.

Rich asshole, Ayame thought to herself. She scrubbed her signature at the bottom of the page next to his, and shoved it back on his coffee table.

"Here. I signed it."

He took it without commenting on her irritation. "Great."

"So, when should we start?"

A blue eye flickered up to meet hers. "That's up to you, Sarutobi. Since this is your idea, you can set the frequency. But, I'd prefer it to be at your place. My neighbors don't like hearing a lot of noise at night."

Ayame swallowed. She was wondering why it all felt like a trap. He was really too calm for all of this.

"What's in it for you?"

Zenzou shrugged. "You asked. I'm delivering. Plus, we're grown-ups, right? Lots of other people do this type of thing once in a while."

"But you objected to it in the first place. What changed your mind?"

"I figured that if you played these games with someone else, you'd end up crying again." Zenzou took another sip of his coffee. "At least with me, you can be disappointed and yell all you want without making a fool of yourself."

"... What kind of an answer is that?"

He only rolled his eyes, and she wasn't bothered enough to inquire much further into it, already irritated by him as a person.

Things moved in a blur after that. She sent him a clean bill of health from the doctor's office, and likewise. Checking each other's schedules only took a minute as missions were in short supply, so it wasn't long until the day came to actually do the deed. She rose up early to mark the occasion.

No one had ever been to her apartment before for various reasons. Ayame never enjoyed spending much time at her place - to her, it was only somewhere to sleep in between missions. Additionally, she would have never invited her friends to come visit her there, much preferring to give herself an open invitation to visit wherever they were located. If it happened to be Gintoki's apartment, so be it.

Knowing her boss was a clean freak, she vacuumed her whole apartment twice; thankfully, it didn't take too long as her living quarters was tiny. Then, after putting away all her clothes that had been hanging for the last week into her closet, she then washed the dishes, cleaned the bathroom, and aired out her futon.

All while doing her chores, she was distracted. In the bath, Ayame was fidgeting, and second-guessing all of her decisions. Wondering if this was a good idea.

She had felt more confident when discussing the clinical details of what was supposed to happen. It seemed simple at the time, like a math equation to be solved. She needed experience, and there was at least a reasonable way to get that experience from someone who compartmentalized everything in his life.

But now the reality was crashing all around her now.

She remembered sitting in Zenzou's room more than a decade ago, terrified. The feeling was familiar to her now, but now that she was a proper grown up, she resolved to herself that she'd get past her inhibitions this time.

And if she was being perfectly honest, she was hoping she'd at least enjoy the experience.

(Not that she actually expected a better outcome.)

She let out a big sigh.

She really wasn't ready for any of this.

Maybe she should stop. Prove her boss right. Chicken out forever, and hopelessly opine for Gintoki while also getting nowhere to the object of her true affections.

No. That wouldn't do.

I can't think like this! she told herself, steeling herself for the worst outcome. I have something to prove to myself.

She stepped out of the tub, drying herself off with a towel. A quick blowout commenced with her hairdryer, and Ayame tied up her hair so she wouldn't mess it up.

She'd decided not to bother with makeup, considering he'd already seen her dolled up before and had no interest in her as a woman. She owned a lot of lingerie, but opted for a simple pair of black panties and bra. She finished her outfit by donning a lavender silk robe on top; the result was sexy, but approachable. A pattern of irises ran from the top to the bottom of the fabric, making it one of her favorites. By the time she finished dressing up, it was already evening.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang, and she held her breath as she pressed the buzzer, letting him in at the front gate. When her boss opened her door, she was half hoping it would have been anyone else. The mailman. The salespeople who thought she wanted another magazine subscription. The nosy neighbor who wanted to know why she was coming inside at such late hours.

Anyone but him.

Zenzou didn't bother to knock as he came into her apartment; he was carrying a plastic bag full of booze. Ostensibly it was because he didn't want to be here any more than she did, but for some sick reason unknown to her, he'd agreed and followed through with her demands.

"Did you light the aphrodisiac?" he asked.

"Yeah." They had mutually agreed that it would have been best practice to get past the weirdness of, well, fucking someone you rejected in the past.

"Good."

He gave a cursory look around. "You could afford a bigger place if you wanted to," he commented.

"It's good enough for me," Ayame retorted, even though she was suddenly grateful for the snarkiness. "Not everybody was born into a rich family."

She could feel him rolling his eyes. Then he changed the subject. "Do you have any ice?"

She pointed to her fridge, which thankfully had an ice cube tray filled halfway. "I'll meet you in the bedroom." She figured boozing was part of the foreplay. Might as well cut to the chase of it.

There was a small table on top of a rug, not too far from her futon. When he came into her room, he placed his usual whiskey on the rocks on one of her coasters, and for her, he'd picked a moderately strong plum wine. Something appropriately potent, but nothing that would get her drunk.

Ayame couldn't tell what he was thinking, troubling her.

She took a gulp of her drink, and then decided to finish the rest of it in one go. Regret hit her as soon as it stung the back of her throat.

"Nervous?"

"A little bit."

He tilted his head, and one of his blue eyes looked straight at her. "You can still say no to all of this, y'know. It's in our contract."

"No, I'm fine, Boss." Except that she was lying, and he probably knew it, too.

"Okay." It was his turn now to take a swig of his drink, and he swirled the glass before polishing it off, mirroring her actions. The ice clinked against the sides, and she wondered if he was steeling his nerves just the same as she was.

He set his empty drink on the table, and took a look at her futon - the one where they were supposed to do unspeakable things to each other. Then he turned his attention to her, gauging her for a moment before giving her a direction.

"Close your eyes."

Ayame did so obediently, because she had no idea of what to expect. She hadn't asked her boss specifically if he'd had lots of experience in the sex department, or what to prepare for.

But did it matter? she questioned. Probably not, Ayame thought to herself. He was more or less here to fulfill a contract.

And as everyone knew, once you ordered a ninja to do something, they'd see through it to the very end.

The fumes of the aphrodisiac were starting to get into her system. There was a tightness in her chest that she wasn't ready to think about. She was hoping it'd dissipate by the time she was under the influence of the drug.

Tsukuyo had told her that this newer version of Aizen-Kou only helped kickstart libido. It wouldn't force anyone to be in love with another person, and was strictly distributed to courtesans only; clients were forbidden to use it. Ayame had snagged one - for research purposes, of course - but it had been left unused for a while as she hadn't seen an opportunity to use it in an empty bedroom with Gintoki in it. He was always in the company of his meddlesome kids, and she didn't feel comfortable lighting that sort of thing around minors.

So, now it was put into use for other purposes.

She nearly jumped when she felt Zenzou's hands on her shoulders.

"You're tense," he murmured.

The last time she remembered when they physically touched each other had to be a long time ago. He was about to die, back when they were trying to save Shigeshige in their village. Ayame sometimes wondered if she would ever forget the sight of him, begging her to leave him behind all bloody and bruised.

It still gave her nightmares from time to time.

Zenzou started to massage her back, and she hadn't realized how horribly touch-deprived she was until she leaned into him, instinctively. Her eyes were still shut, but she could sense how close he was, his warmth radiating from her fingers.

She was glad that he made the first move.

"I was really disappointed that day when you turned me down, Sarutobi," he said in a low voice. "You really put a dent in my pride."

Ayame opened her eyes, and turned around to face him. "Did I?"

This time she could see both of his blue eyes staring at hers. A rare sight for anybody. "Yeah."

They were so close to each other that she could feel his breath on her neck. She couldn't tell if she wanted to push him away or to pull him closer.

"I didn't mean to."

I was scared and I wasn't ready to change the dynamic of our relationship.

"I know. But if I knew then what I knew now... "

The conversation was turning dangerously intimate for a relationship that was supposed to be short-lived. Ayame swallowed uneasily, trying to regulate her frazzled state of mind. If this was his way of setting the mood, then he was doing far too good of a job, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality.

None of this means anything, she thought to herself. But it was hard to remember it when his hands kept massaging her shoulders, the thumb pressed against her spine. When his mouth started peppering kisses against the nape of her neck, she almost stopped breathing.

They were playing with fire, and she guessed at this point it was too late to back down.

"Sarutobi."

"Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Her mouth went dry. Head was dizzy.

"Yes."

Nothing felt real when he gently plucked her glasses off, setting them next to the futon. This was far, far different from the time they had shown up as teenagers. He was terribly grown up now, poised and far more composed than he had any right to be. If this version of Zenzou had played the seduction game back then, Ayame knew that he could have convinced her to love him.

The taste of his whiskey on her lips. His cologne. The warmth of his hand, cupping her chin, breathing her in as if she was oxygen.

It all terrified and comforted her at the same time.

He was starting to unravel parts of her that she'd reigned in the past. Her passion, her eroticism, her lust for life was pouring out of her in a way that had never happened before. Her affection had nowhere else to go, because until now, no one had wanted it. It was coming out now and in full force, because this time it was consensual. Or at least constructed in a way that she could believe was mutual.

She had wondered what it was like to kiss her boss once or twice. It was a natural thing to ponder, after spending so much time with him as children, and then teenagers, until they'd grown apart, reconciling much later in life. The person she was kissing now seemed to be run opposite to the history that she once shared with him.

For someone so emotionally cold and closed off, he was warm to the touch.

Ayame couldn't remember how they moved from the floor to her futon, too lost in the sensations to really monitor where she was in the moment. But all of a sudden, she was straddling him and she found out he was... hard.

Flushing, she blurted out, "I thought you weren't into pretty girls."

Her boss gave her a wry grin. "Well, when you're on top of me like that, with your hair tied up... "

Her stomach fluttered.

Ayame had always thought of sex as a purely physical thing. When she was alone at night touching herself, her fantasies mostly were limited to the hypothetical scenarios that belonged in a porn video. She had fantasized about being taken by someone - sometimes against her will, and sometimes not. It was far more graphic than the situation in front of her, and ten times more impersonal. It was only her and her hand - maybe a toy would be used from time to time, but it didn't involve the presence of another human being.

At this moment, she felt like she couldn't hide from anyone. She didn't feel as if she was in control of the situation. And she certainly couldn't escape from Zenzou, who was looking at her now as if... as if...

As if he genuinely desired her.

It would have been validating if she didn't know exactly how to proceed after knowing that.

He noticed her silence.

"Hey, Sarutobi, we can stop," he reminded her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "If it's not working for you - "

Even though her vision was blurry, she could sense the care and tenderness from his physical touch. He could tell that she was in a vulnerable state right now - both physically and mentally - she wasn't good at hiding her feelings at a time like this. There was too much going on in her head, and she was finding it difficult to focus on anything.

"No, I'm okay." She hoped her voice came out less panicky than it did. "It's just - yeah. I'm - "

"New to it, yeah. It's all right. Just take a deep breath."

She did, and exhaled slowly.

He reached for her again, and this time she let him take the lead. He tugged on her silk robe, causing it to slide off her body in one fell swoop, revealing her lingerie set in the process.

"Hmm... It's a bit tamer than I expected from you, but still, pretty hot," was his consensus, which pleased her more than she cared to admit.

"I didn't know which one to pick," she said, still flustered from feeling so exposed. Mind you, she wasn't even naked yet.

"I'll be looking forward to seeing what else you'll pick, then."

Arrogant bastard. They haven't even gotten through the first round of sex and he was already envisioning future sessions?

She was graciously excused from replying though, because then he kissed her again. This time, it was longer and deeper than any of the previous kisses they had shared. Something in her loins throbbed, and she realized belatedly that the aphrodisiac that she had lit up earlier was finally kicking in. Her body was practically begging for him to touch her, with the same intensity that usually accompanied her stalking sessions with Gintoki.

His hands continued to wander everywhere, while his eyes kept a close watch on her, making sure she was comfortable. A hand twisted behind her back, unclasping her bra with ease, and by the time she realized it, he had cupped her breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Oh, fuck," she breathed, feeling electric shocks running down from her body up and jerked when he thumbed her nipple, a spike of tension coursing through her veins. He did it again, and she tilted her head back. His teeth ran over her throat, causing her to shiver with delight.

"Nice rack, Sarutobi..." he muttered to himself, right before he flipped her over on her back. He towered over her for a second before proceeding to make his way downwards.

She wondered if they were about to do missionary, but then Zenzou moved even lower.

Hot panic flooded her. "Wait - "

His eyes narrowed. "You put oral sex on the list. I assumed you were interested."

"But it's embarrassing," she squeaked, feeling very green again.

This time he had less patience for her bullshit. "So close your eyes," he said curtly.

It was probably more embarrassing that his rudeness was causing her to get excited. She did as he said, letting her focus on the sensation of his body moving on top of her. His fingers slipped under her panties, sliding them off her legs.

He didn't waste any time spreading her apart, his tongue sliding over her sex, movements slow and deliberate. Her body responded to his touch like an animal in heat, turning uncomfortably warm in an air-conditioned bedroom.

His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her wider and giving him better access as he dove in deeper. He was relentless, his tongue flicking over her clit, circling it, then licking a slow, steady stripe up her center. She could already feel the pressure building inside her, a sweet, aching tension that threatened to break her apart.

"What the fuck - " she breathed in, completely unprepared for how intense it was. Her vibrators only delivered stimulation in pinpointed areas, mostly incapable of stimulating more than just her clitoris. Although she had experimented with different toys before, it was often hard for her to achieve a slow build as she was generally impatient to get to her climax.

It was only now that she was forced to wait - wait for him to increase the pressure. His tongue was wet, soft and hard at various intervals, and she moaned at his intrusion as he sucked her bundle of nerves.

She could only pant now as he lapped at her folds, feeling unabashed and needy. His grip on her thigh tightened as he buried his face into her cunt, and she clenched her fists in the sheets. Any time she grew quieter or made less sounds, he'd switch up his moves, paying special attention to her labia and the hood of her clitoris.

He noticed that a certain movement caused her to moan even louder. He dipped his head to replicate it again, and she felt his tongue push inside of her, rolling inwards as she cried out into the darkness he occupied.

It didn't take long for her to know she was close to her climax. The aphrodisiac had taken her pleasure from a zero to a hundred.

"I'm gonna cum," she moaned, teetering at the edge between ecstasy and delirium.

She was close.

So close.

He didn't say anything back.

Instead, he continued to increase the pressure, building up the intensity until she couldn't handle it anymore. Sucking her clitoris until she screamed.

It hit her like an inferno.

Her body tensed, crashed and tumbled as if she felt the sky cave in, littering the two of them in metaphorical stardust. She cried out, his name mingled with wordless pants and incoherent noises as the pleasure took her body hostage.

Ayame was suspended at that moment for an impossible amount of time. Her limbs shook and trembled as she died a little death, completely possessed by her release.

Even as she felt the waves subsiding she still felt the wracking aftershocks course through her body.

Her partner shifted himself upwards, choosing now to slip off his robe.

Maybe he was smirking a bit as he wiped his mouth clean of her residue.

It was also possible she didn't care as it had been an outstanding orgasm.

His voice was playful when she finally came to her senses. "Was that how you imagined it to be?"

She couldn't answer him, but her expression must have satisfied him, for he kissed her on the mouth. It should have repulsed her, being able to taste herself on his lips, but it only turned her on.

(On that note, she couldn't believe that she was still horny. Damn it. Maybe the aphrodisiac had been overkill.)

"We can stop now if you like."

Ayame shook her head. "No, let's do it."

"Any position you'd prefer?" he asked.

She thought about it, and then blushed. "Missionary, please." It felt the least intimidating from all the porn videos she'd watched on the internet. Plus, with his track record of telling her what to do, she was more inclined to trust him.

"Okay."

She was more comfortable now with being naked in front of him, the first orgasm loosening any inhibitions she once had.

She felt... good. Relaxed, but not sleepy.

Out of nowhere, Zenzou tore the wrapping of a condom, rolling down the prophylactic on his cock with a practiced motion. He didn't seem too self-conscious about letting her watch him, making her suspect this wasn't out of the ordinary for him.

She wondered how many girls he'd been with - or men, for that matter. That episode with Gintoki in the hospital and the candle in his ass could point to her boss batting for both teams.

It didn't matter, she thought, smothering that hint of jealousy that was threatening to throw her off. As long as they were practicing relatively safe sex, and exclusivity as long as she needed, his sexual history was irrelevant to the deal they'd agreed on.

And anyways, maybe he was just dipping into that unflappable confidence that he had as the head of his clan. He'd always held a cool arrogance that could piss off both his enemies and colleagues alike.

"Are you ready?" he asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She nodded.

Her skin tingled under his touch as his fingers moved across her back, then gradually sliding up to the back of her neck.

Guiding her head as he kissed her, his fingers twisted in her hair, tugging it gently and pulling her back slightly so he could press his tongue deeper into her mouth. She matched his pace, her tongue meeting his as her hips rolled forward, her leg slipping between his, resting it between his knees.

The sensation of his toned body, lightly resting on her chest, was enough to make her head spin. He was lean and wiry, and the stubble on his chin was doing things to her as he kept touching her in ways she'd never expect him to.

He positioned himself against her entrance, and by now she was so slick with arousal that her lips spread easily for him.

Still, a part of her hesitated. Her muscles tensed up, anticipating it to hurt.

(She wasn't going to say something to him cheesy like, "Please be gentle with me." That was way too out of character for either of them. Tenderness had never been part of their dynamic.)

She could take a bit of pain. God knew she'd gone through worse. With that thought circulating in her head, she forced herself to relax as he pushed himself inside her. As he sank into her, her whole body shuddered.

"Fuck," she breathed, her head falling back against the pillows.

He moved slowly at first, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in, each thrust deep and deliberate. She could feel every inch of him; the way he stretched her, the way he filled her up, was almost to the point of being uncomfortable.

She kept expecting there to be a piercing pain, sure to obliterate any inkling of pleasure. But to her relief, it never happened, even when he was completely inside her. He had loosened her up sufficiently that aside from a slight pinch, there wasn't much else to be concerned about.

"Put your head up for a sec. I wanna try something."

She obeyed, and let his fingers curl through her hair, sending a tingle of pleasure that ran down her spine. He paused for a moment to gently tug the elastic that held her ponytail together down, letting her hair tumble in soft waves.

It was probably the most romantic thing a man had ever done for her, aside from Gintoki proposing marriage to her, later rescinded. That it was happening only in this sick, twisted context was probably the most appropriate form for her, if she was being honest about it.

"I'm more used to seeing you like this," Zenzou mused, but didn't elaborate on it any further. "You alright?"

She whimpered softly as he drew back again, holding himself steady as she pushed forward - unable to bear the separation. He took it as a cue to continue forwards, keeping a slow and steady pace.

"Good girl," he said, causing her core to burn hotter than before. "You're doing so well for your first time. Honestly, I should've expected it. You're a complete natural."

How did he know that she had a praise kink? She was learning a lot of things today. One of them being that her boss was extremely talented at taking suggestions, and translating them into things that made her burn.

He pressed another kiss on her neck, making his way down. By the time his tongue swept around her nipple, it had swollen with expectant pleasure. His mouth spiraled around and down, then passed to her other breast.

He caught the other nipple gently between his lips, rolled it, his tongue tip sweeping the very tip. Her torso instinctively lifted up towards him, straining, searching for something she didn't know. She hissed as a hand swept slowly down over her stomach, finding her mound for a second, right before moving further into her thatch of curls.

She felt him lift his hips below her and then fall back, motionless, shuddering. His thumb was searching for something, then finding and gently pressing down on that secret spot.

Ayame felt like her brain was starting to melt. A heady combination of the booze and fumes from the aphrodisiac were starting to mix together, causing her vision to blur. Each thrust seemed to ignite something new within her, a deep, primal connection that she had never experienced before. Her entire world had narrowed to the delicious heat and pressure of his body against hers.

It was starting to affect him, too.

His pace had started to quicken. His thrusts were becoming harder, more urgent.

She moaned, her hips lifting to meet his, the sound of skin against skin echoing through her bedroom. His breathing had become more ragged; eyes half-shut, his lips thin. A jolt of pleasure shot through her as she looked at him, his cold eyes staring through her as his breath fanned across her face, the strain in his jaw evident.

She could feel herself unraveling under his gaze, the tension in her body building to a breaking point. There was no stopping the momentum now, and as he kept thrusting in her, a high pitched and slow whine drew from her chest.

His breath was hot against her neck, his chest pressing into hers as he drove into her with a rhythm that reduced her into a babbling mess. She was uttering complete nonsense by now, and not caring because the only thing that mattered was that elusive orgasm.

It was almost out of reach. So close, and not at the same time. His thumb wasn't pressing hard enough on her clitoris to make her come, even though he was fucking her as fast as he possibly could.

"Harder," she gasped. Out of desperation, she pressed her palm to his fingers, no longer ashamed of asking for what she wanted. "Please."

"Please what," he said, keeping that irritatingly soft pressure on her bundle of nerves.

He couldn't have possibly misinterpreted her actions. He was too smart for that.

He just wanted to tease her. To have her at his mercy.

A true bastard to the very end.

Ayame wasn't above begging though. She was already used to begging for scraps from somebody else.

"Please make me come, boss. I need you to let me come. Please," she uttered in her most needy voice, one she reserved when she was acting out her special fantasies in private. The one that she reached for when she was in most need of relief.

The voice she used when she imagined Gintoki taking her.

It was almost surreal when she saw her partner's eyes turn blue-black, the heat all-encompassing, betraying his feigned disinterest. Her words had done something to him, she was sure of it.

"Goddamn it, Sarutobi," he growled, hand gripping her hip so hard that it almost hurt. "You were made for this."

When he pressed hard against her clitoris, her world turned white.

She heard herself scream, feeling her walls clenching around him, and the rush of liquid heat in her belly. But for an everlasting moment, she was completely underwater.

She couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.

Only feel.

She knew he was still thrusting inside her, prolonging her orgasm with each aftershock. She could hear him cursing as he pulsed inside of her, his hands still wrapped around her waist. But by then she was already far gone, too dazed to recognize he was still talking to her. The aphrodisiac had rendered her climax so intense that the aftermath had made her tired. So tired that she couldn't even pay attention to anything else around her.

Ayame could vaguely hear snippets of her name here and there, but his voice soon faded in and out of her consciousness.

The next morning, she woke up with an incredible sense of well being, albeit feeling a bit sore in between her legs.

Reaching for her mobile, she squinted at the screen, trying to figure out the time.

Shit. She'd overslept.

She rummaged her hand around the side of her futon, looking for her glasses. After putting them on, she realized that there was an unread message.

It was a text from her boss.

Next week, same time, your place. Let's try it again without the aphrodisiac.

- tbc