Haruyanagi Sakura | Code Geass: Roze Of The Recapture

The azure sky stretched endlessly above, a canvas brushed with the softest of clouds, mirroring the boundless horizon where the cerulean sea met the distant shore. Haruyanagi Sakura stood at the edge of the tranquil waters, the gentle caress of the ocean breeze whispering secrets against her skin. The sun, a benevolent eye in the heavens, cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the pristine white sand and the vibrant hues of the tropical foliage that fringed the secluded cove. She had sought this escape, a moment of reprieve from the ever-present shadows of war and the weighty responsibilities that clung to her like a second skin. But even in this idyllic paradise, a familiar longing stirred within her, a yearning for something more profound, something deeply personal.

Her gaze drifted to the figure approaching across the sand, a silhouette against the dazzling light that sent a tremor of anticipation through her. It was him. The one whose presence had become a constant, quiet thrum in the background of her thoughts, a silent promise of solace and shared dreams. His steps were measured, unhurried, yet they carried an inherent grace that always captivated her. As he drew closer, the details of his form became clearer – the subtle curve of his shoulders, the way the sunlight caught the light strands of his hair, the enigmatic smile that played on his lips. A blush, warm and involuntary, bloomed on Sakura’s cheeks. It had been too long since they had shared such a private, unburdened moment.

He stopped a respectful distance away, his eyes, pools of deep warmth, meeting hers. “Sakura,” he began, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air, sending shivers of delight down her spine. “You look… breathtaking.”

Sakura’s heart fluttered like a trapped bird. She smoothed down the fabric of her simple, yet exquisitely cut, azure bikini, the tiny seashells adorning its edges catching the light. The material was thin, designed to embrace her curves, to reveal just enough to hint at the treasures beneath. She felt a flush spread across her chest, a testament to his potent gaze. “And you,” she replied, her voice a little breathier than she intended, “look as if you’ve stepped out of a dream.”

He chuckled, a sound that echoed the joy bubbling within her. He continued his approach, his sandals crunching softly on the sand. The scent of salt spray mingled with his own unique, intoxicating aroma – a subtle blend of ozone and something distinctly masculine, something that made her knees feel weak. He stopped before her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His eyes roamed over her, a slow, appreciative sweep that made her skin tingle. He saw not just the bikini, but the woman beneath it, the vulnerability, the desire that she tried so hard to conceal.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to her lips, then back to her eyes. “Constantly.”

Sakura’s breath hitched. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air between them, a palpable current of longing. She reached out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble, the warmth of his skin. “And I, you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the gentle roar of the waves. The playful banter, the polite distance they often maintained, dissolved in the face of this shared intimacy, this undeniable pull that had been growing between them for so long. This secluded beach, bathed in the golden light of the afternoon sun, felt like a sanctuary, a place where all the pretense could fall away.

He leaned in, his hand gently cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Sakura,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers, asking for permission, for an invitation. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she tilted her head, offering him her lips. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft press, a gentle exploration. Then, as if a dam had broken, it deepened. It was a kiss born of suppressed desire, of longing, of the quiet understanding that had bloomed in their shared experiences. His lips were warm, firm, and tasted of the sea. Her tongue met his, a dance of exploration and surrender, each movement sending electric currents through their bodies.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling. “I want you, Sakura,” he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. “More than I’ve wanted anything.”

Sakura’s entire body hummed with the intensity of his words. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of apprehension and exhilaration. “And I want you,” she confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. The unspoken desires that had simmered beneath the surface for so long were finally, gloriously, coming to the fore. The sun felt hotter, the breeze more invigorating, the very air thick with a primal energy. Her bikini felt impossibly small, a flimsy barrier against the tempest brewing within her. She longed for his touch, for his hands to explore every inch of her, to erase any lingering doubts, any remaining distance.

He gently led her to a more secluded spot, nestled amongst some smooth, sun-warmed rocks that offered a measure of privacy. The sound of the waves became a rhythmic pulse, a soundtrack to their burgeoning passion. His fingers fumbled slightly with the clasp of her bikini top, his urgency palpable. As the fabric parted, revealing the swell of her breasts to the warm air, a gasp escaped her lips. His eyes widened, a flicker of awe crossing his face, and then he lowered his head, his lips finding the peak of her breast. The sensation was dizzying, a wave of pleasure washing over her as his mouth closed around her nipple. She cried out softly, arching into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

His touch was both tender and demanding, his tongue teasing and caressing, eliciting moans from her that were lost in the whisper of the wind. He moved to her other breast, repeating the exquisite torture, his hands now roaming lower, tracing the curve of her waist, then dipping to the delicate swell of her hips. The bikini bottom felt impossibly tight, a teasing constraint that amplified her desire. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the steady thud of his heart against hers as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together, intimately. She felt the hardness of his arousal against her belly, a promise of what was to come, and a fresh wave of longing washed over her. Her own body was now alight, every nerve ending screaming with anticipation. She could feel her own wetness, a slick invitation that spoke of her readiness, her desperate need for him.

With a sigh of surrender, she guided his hands to the fastenings of her bikini bottom. The fabric slid away, revealing her most intimate curves to his eager gaze. She felt a momentary shyness, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer, potent desire that radiated from him. His eyes lingered on her, filled with an adoration that made her feel utterly cherished. His gaze swept over her, down to the delicate fold of her pussy, moist and swollen, her clit throbbing with a life of its own. A low groan escaped his lips as he looked upon her, so beautiful, so ready. He knelt before her, his gaze never leaving her face, his reverence evident in every fiber of his being. He reached out a finger, tracing the soft skin of her inner thigh, sending tremors of exquisite sensation through her. Her legs instinctively parted further, an unspoken invitation, a testament to her desire to be claimed. The gentle exploration continued, his fingers slowly, deliberately, tracing the outer lips of her pussy, drawing out long, languid sighs from her.

Her breath hitched as his fingers found their way deeper, exploring the velvety warmth within. He moved with a tenderness that belied the raw hunger in his eyes, his touch igniting a firestorm within her. She cried out his name, her fingers digging into his shoulders as her body instinctively began to move against his. The sensation was overwhelming, a blissful agony that threatened to consume her. He continued his ministrations, his fingers expertly finding her clit, pressing and circling, sending waves of pleasure through her that made her arch her back, her whole body trembling. He watched her, his eyes dark with passion, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he saw the pleasure he was bringing her. She felt herself building, spiraling towards an inevitable climax, her moans growing louder, more desperate.

Then, he looked up at her, his eyes burning with an intense desire. “Now,” he whispered, his voice thick. He stood and moved between her legs, his own arousal a formidable presence pressing against her. Sakura’s eyes fluttered open, meeting his, a silent promise passing between them. She reached for him, her hands guiding him, her body instinctively adjusting to receive him. He entered her slowly, a deep, agonizingly pleasurable sensation that made her cry out his name again, a sound of pure ecstasy. He was filling her, every inch of her, a perfect fit that felt as if they had been made for each other. Their bodies moved together, a rhythmic dance of passion, each thrust deeper, more urgent. The sounds of their pleasure – her moans, his guttural groans, the slick slick of their bodies meeting – filled the secluded cove, mingling with the ceaseless rhythm of the waves. Her pussy clenched around him, drawing him deeper, her nails raking his back as she met his every thrust with escalating intensity. She could feel the slickness of her own juices, the heat of his skin, the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of being so completely intertwined. He whispered her name against her lips, his voice ragged with passion, and she responded with a desperate plea, begging him to continue, to push her further.

He increased the pace, his movements becoming more powerful, more insistent. Sakura’s world narrowed to the sensations between them, the exquisite friction, the building pressure that threatened to shatter her control. She felt him pushing deeper, his body taut with exertion, his gaze locked on hers, a shared journey into the heart of pleasure. The climax was a tidal wave, a glorious, shattering release that sent shivers through her entire being. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, holding him tight as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her. He groaned, his own release coming moments later, a deep, shuddering expulsion that mirrored hers. Their bodies lay intertwined, slick with sweat and sea salt, their hearts pounding in unison. The sun cast long shadows across the sand, painting the scene in hues of amber and gold, a testament to the passionate encounter that had unfolded in their private paradise.

After a long, breathless moment, he gently pulled away, his eyes still holding hers. He traced the curve of her cheek with his thumb, his touch infinitely tender. “Sakura,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “That was… everything.”

She leaned into his touch, a contented sigh escaping her lips. The lingering sensations, the deep satisfaction that coursed through her, was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She felt cherished, desired, and profoundly loved. The bikini, now discarded on the sand, was a symbol of the barriers they had both shed. As the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon, casting a warm, ethereal glow, they lay together, their bodies still connected by the invisible threads of shared intimacy. The waves continued their gentle murmur, a lullaby to their contentment. The world outside this secluded cove seemed to fade away, leaving only them, their shared passion, and the promise of a future that felt as boundless and as beautiful as the endless ocean stretching before them.