Sakuya Sumeragi | Code Geass: Roze Of The Recapture

The late afternoon sun, a bruised orange bleeding into the horizon, cast long, distorted shadows across the stark, utilitarian room. Sakuya Sumeragi, her typically serene expression now a canvas of conflicted emotions, stood by the window, her long, silken hair cascading down her back like a midnight waterfall. The air was thick with unspoken desires, a potent mix of the lingering scent of ozone from recent battles and the subtle, intoxicating perfume of her own skin. Her fingers traced the condensation on the cool glass, each touch a tremor of the anticipation that coiled in her gut. Every fiber of her being hummed with a restless energy, a yearning that had been building for weeks, ever since the precarious alliance with the Knights of Britannia had solidified, bringing her into closer, more intimate proximity with the enigmatic commander, Akito Hyuga.

She replayed their last encounter in her mind, a fleeting moment of shared vulnerability in the chaos of their war-torn world. His gaze, intense and unwavering, had pierced through her carefully constructed facade, revealing a depth of emotion she had only dared to dream of. He saw the warrior, yes, but he also seemed to glimpse the woman beneath, the one who longed for more than just victory. The memory of his calloused fingertips brushing against her cheek, sending a jolt of pure electricity through her, still made her breath hitch. The unspoken question hung between them, a fragile, shimmering thread of possibility in the darkness.

A soft knock echoed through the quiet room, a sound that made Sakuya’s heart leap into her throat. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Only Akito would seek her out now, in this stolen moment between duty and devastation. She took a deep, steadying breath, the scent of lavender from her uniform a futile attempt to ground herself. She turned, her eyes meeting his as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The dim light caught the earnestness in his eyes, the slight weariness that etched his handsome features, and a wave of tenderness washed over her. He looked utterly captivating, the stern lines of his uniform unable to conceal the raw, untamed passion that simmered beneath the surface.

“Sakuya,” Akito’s voice was a low rumble, laced with a vulnerability that mirrored her own. He took a step closer, his gaze sweeping over her, lingering on the graceful curve of her neck, the elegant line of her jaw. He seemed to be drinking her in, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken desires that had been building between them like a tempest. The air crackled with an almost palpable tension, a potent cocktail of shared danger and burgeoning intimacy. He extended a hand, his fingers hovering just inches from her cheek, an unspoken invitation. Her own hand trembled slightly as she reached out, her fingertips meeting his, a gentle, almost reverent touch.

The contact sent a shiver of exquisite sensation through her. It was a simple touch, yet it held the weight of a thousand unspoken words, a silent confession of feelings that had been carefully guarded for far too long. Akito’s thumb stroked the delicate skin of her cheekbone, his eyes never leaving hers, a silent plea and a bold declaration all at once. Her breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping her lips. The war, the responsibilities, the very world outside seemed to recede, leaving only the two of them in this intimate bubble of unspoken longing.

“Akito,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her gaze locked on his. The words caught in her throat, tangled with a surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. He leaned in, his forehead gently pressing against hers, his breath warm against her skin. The scent of his uniform, a mix of oil and sweat and something uniquely him, was intoxicating. She could feel the steady thrum of his pulse against her own, a powerful rhythm that echoed the frantic beating of her heart.

“Sakuya,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I… I can’t keep pretending.” His eyes, dark and searching, held a depth of feeling that both thrilled and terrified her. He saw past the stoic exterior, past the strategic mind, and into the heart of the woman who yearned for connection, for solace, for passion. Her long hair, unbound and flowing, brushed against his arm as she leaned into him, seeking the solid comfort of his presence. He gently ran his hand through her hair, his fingers tangling in the silken strands, a gesture of tender possession.

“I know,” she confessed, her own voice thick with unshed tears and burgeoning desire. “I feel it too. This… this pull between us.” The words, once spoken, seemed to break down the last remaining barriers. Akito’s lips, firm and yet impossibly soft, met hers in a kiss that was both hesitant and urgent. It was a kiss that spoke of shared hardship, of stolen moments of respite, of a burning desire that had been simmering for far too long. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, her fingers gripping his uniform as the kiss deepened, escalating from a gentle exploration to a fiery embrace. The world outside faded away, leaving only the intoxicating sensation of his lips against hers, the intoxicating scent of him, the intoxicating rhythm of their two hearts beating as one.

He broke away, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing with a fierce, possessive fire. He looked at her, truly looked at her, and in his gaze, Sakuya saw a reflection of her own deepest desires. He gently cupped her face, his thumbs tracing the curve of her cheekbones, his eyes conveying a universe of unspoken passion. “Sakuya,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, “I want you.” The raw honesty of his words, stripped of any pretense, sent a tremor of pure, unadulterated arousal through her. Her own body responded with an almost primal urgency, her hips arching instinctively towards him.

He didn’t wait for a verbal answer. His hands moved, deftly unbuttoning the front of her uniform, his gaze never leaving her eyes. The fabric parted, revealing the delicate lace of her camisole beneath. He traced the outline of her collarbone, his touch sending shivers down her spine. He then moved lower, his fingers finding the edge of the lace, gently pulling it aside to reveal the creamy expanse of her skin. His eyes darkened with a raw, primal hunger as he gazed upon her, his breath catching in his throat. Sakuya gasped, a soft moan escaping her lips as his gaze ignited a fire within her, a fire that threatened to consume them both. She watched, her heart pounding in her chest, as his hand moved to the clasp of her bra, his touch both reverent and possessive. With a soft click, the undergarment surrendered, and her breasts were free, their soft curves spilling into the dim light. He knelt before her, his gaze worshipful, and Sakuya felt a blush spread across her cheeks, a flush of both embarrassment and exquisite pleasure.

“You are so beautiful, Sakuya,” he whispered, his voice a deep caress. He lowered his head, his lips finding the soft swell of her breast. Her breath hitched as his tongue, warm and wet, circled her nipple, coaxing it to a hardened peak. A low moan escaped her lips, her fingers instinctively clenching in his hair. He suckled gently at first, then with a growing intensity, drawing her into a delicious dance of pleasure. Sakuya swayed, her knees feeling weak, as he lavished her breasts with his attention, his mouth a masterful sculptor of sensation. Her long hair tumbled forward, obscuring her face as she surrendered to the overwhelming ecstasy, her back arching further, her hips tilting towards him in an unconscious plea for more.

His hands moved to her waist, his touch firm and possessive as he guided her towards the edge of the cot. He eased her down, her uniform pooling around her ankles. She lay there, exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely empowered by his gaze, by the raw desire he openly displayed. His eyes, dark and burning with an ancient fire, roamed over her body, appreciating every curve, every inch of her skin. He then turned his attention to her legs, his hands tracing the smooth skin of her thighs, his touch sending ripples of pleasure through her. He worked his way up, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and Sakuya gasped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She felt a tingling sensation, a deepening ache that radiated from her core.

“Akito…” she whispered, her voice trembling. He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers, a silent question in their depths. She nodded, a shy smile gracing her lips. He then leaned down, his lips parting slightly, and Sakuya closed her eyes, bracing herself for what was to come. His tongue, warm and wet, traced a path along the crease of her thighs, teasing and tantalizing her. He moved slowly, deliberately, his tongue exploring the most sensitive regions, eliciting gasps and moans from her. Sakuya arched her back, her fingers digging into the rough fabric of the cot, as his ministrations grew more intense. The world narrowed to this single point of exquisite sensation, her entire being focused on the pleasure he was so expertly eliciting.

He teased her for what felt like an eternity, his tongue dancing and swirling, bringing her to the precipice of release again and again. Her moans grew louder, more unrestrained, filling the small room with the sounds of her surrender. Just as she felt she could no longer bear the exquisite torment, he deepened his assault, his tongue plunging deeper, faster, igniting a wildfire within her. Sakuya cried out, her body convulsing as waves of pure, unadulterated pleasure washed over her, her climax sending shivers through her entire frame. She clung to the edge of the cot, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body slick with sweat, her mind a blissful haze.

As her tremors subsided, Akito rose, his eyes still locked on hers, a triumphant, possessive gleam in their depths. He gently ran his thumb across her swollen lips, a silent promise of more to come. He then turned his attention to his own uniform, his hands moving with a practiced efficiency to unfasten his trousers. Sakuya watched, a flutter of anticipation returning to her chest, as his erection sprang forth, thick and throbbing. It was an impressive sight, a testament to the raw, untamed passion that coursed through him. He knelt before her again, his eyes devouring her. He reached out, his hand gently cupping her face, his thumb stroking her lower lip. “Now, my Sakuya,” he breathed, his voice laced with desire. “Your turn.”

Sakuya’s heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of nervousness and exhilarating anticipation. She had never done this before, not truly. But with Akito, with his unwavering gaze and the raw desire he so openly displayed, she felt a newfound courage bloom within her. She leaned down, her long hair falling forward, brushing against his chest as she drew closer. Her lips parted, and she tentatively tasted his length, her tongue tracing the sensitive veins. Akito groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pleasure that resonated through her. He guided her head, his hand gently cupping the back of her skull, encouraging her to take him deeper. Sakuya’s eyes fluttered open, and she met his gaze, a silent pact passing between them. She closed her eyes again, her tongue working with a newfound confidence, swirling and licking, tasting every inch of him.

She felt him stiffen, his body tensing as she worked her magic. He moaned her name, his hands gripping her hair more tightly, urging her on. Sakuya focused, her movements becoming more practiced, more daring. She felt his pulse quicken beneath her tongue, and she knew she was close. She increased the pressure, her lips working in a rhythmic motion, her tongue dancing with a newfound expertise. Akito gasped, his body arching off the cot, his climax building with an unstoppable force. Sakuya redoubled her efforts, her mouth engulfing him, her tongue working him with every ounce of her being. With a final, guttural roar, Akito convulsed, his semen erupting into her mouth, a hot, thick flood that filled her senses. She swallowed instinctively, the taste of him both foreign and intoxicating, a powerful symbol of their union.

He slumped back against the cot, his chest heaving, his eyes closed. Sakuya stayed where she was, her lips still tingling from his essence, her body humming with a delicious post-climax afterglow. She watched him, a sense of profound satisfaction settling over her. He had given himself to her completely, and she had returned the favor, their intimacy a testament to the deep, burgeoning connection between them. Akito slowly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting hers, a look of awe and deep contentment on his face. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and gently caressed her cheek. “Sakuya,” he whispered, his voice husky, “Thank you.”

He then pulled her onto the cot, his body pressing against hers, their skin a delightful contrast of textures. He kissed her again, a slow, lingering kiss that spoke of shared pleasure and a promise of more. His hands explored her body, his touch reverent and passionate as he rediscovered the curves and soft places that had so recently brought him to ecstasy. Sakuya arched into his touch, her body still singing with the aftershocks of their mutual pleasure. He then shifted, positioning himself between her thighs, his erection pressing against her core. Sakuya gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The moment had arrived.

With a low groan, Akito entered her, his thrusts deep and sure. Sakuya cried out, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him even closer. The sensation was both intensely pleasurable and overwhelmingly intimate. They moved together, a primal rhythm dictating their pace, their bodies slick with sweat and desire. Sakuya met his thrusts, her hips arching, her moans echoing the sounds of his own release. The intensity built, their connection deepening with each thrust, each gasp, each whispered endearment. Her long hair, unbound, flowed around them like a silken shroud, witnesses to their passionate union.

He pushed deeper, harder, his gaze locked on hers, a look of pure, unadulterated lust and love in his eyes. Sakuya felt herself approaching the precipice again, a delicious tingling sensation building in her core. She met his thrusts with renewed vigor, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Akito!” she cried, her voice raw with pleasure. He grunted, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more urgent. She felt him tighten within her, and then, with a powerful thrust, he was inside her completely, his climax sending shockwaves through her. Sakuya screamed his name, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over her, her own orgasm erupting in a torrent of sensation. She held him close, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating as one. The world outside, with all its war and chaos, ceased to exist. There was only them, their passion, and the lingering sweetness of their shared, uncensored release.

As their breaths slowly returned to normal, and the intense tremors of their climax subsided, they lay intertwined, their bodies still slick with sweat, their hearts still pounding in unison. Akito gently stroked Sakuya’s hair, his touch tender and possessive. “Sakuya,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, “I…” He trailed off, unable to find the words to express the profound feelings that now surged through him. Sakuya turned her head, her eyes meeting his, and offered him a soft, genuine smile. “I know,” she whispered back, her voice filled with a newfound serenity. “And I you.” In the quiet aftermath of their passion, in the shared intimacy of their bodies and souls, they had found a solace, a connection that transcended the battlefield, a love that had been waiting to bloom in the heart of the storm. As the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the room, they held each other close, their shared experience a silent promise of a future they would face, together.