The door slid open with a forceful thud, and Madara strode in, his presence immediately filling the room. "You left the banquet early," Madara said, his voice low and controlled, but laced with a simmering rage. "Do you realize how that looked in front of our guests?"
Nanae answered calmly. "I thought it was the right time to leave, Madara-sama. I was tired–"
Madara's eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, his towering figure intimidating. "It is not your place to decide when the right time is. Your actions reflect on me and on the entire Uchiha clan. Your early departure was seen as disrespectful."
"Madara-sama," she felt irritation growing, "nobody noticed I was gone. Nobody asked for me. So–"
"It was disrespectful," he repeated, slower this time.
She narrowed her eyes at him. Now, she was angry."Disrespectful to whom?"
Feeling challenged Madara walked up to her until he stood towering over her, "To me."
She could smell the sake on him. Nanae scrunched her nose, "Are you drunk?"
He gave her a sardonic smirk, "You're testing my patience, woman."
"Woman?" She repeated, her voice cutting through the silence. "I have a name, Madara-sama. I'm now your wife. You can't address me like some servant."
Madara's arrogant eyes assessed her cooly, as she stood bravely before him. A woman. Half his size. Glaring at him. If he wasn't so angry he would've laughed.
He gave her a sardonic look. "Do not mistake my words for disrespect. You should know your place; woman, and beneath me."
Nanae took a step forward, her anger now boiling over, her. "My place? I am here to support you, to stand by your side as an equal, not to be belittled and dismissed. If you can't show me the respect I deserve–"
"Equals?!" He actually chuckled, "I've had people killed over lesser insults."
Suddenly, a hand yanked her up by the hair; her scalp burned as she was pulled towards the bed. The shock from being manhandled made her gasp loudly.
"I expect absolute obedience," he hissed in her ear before throwing her on the bed like a ragdoll.
Nanae sat up slowly, brushing the hair away from her face, she watched in shock as Madara stood at the foot of the bed, undressing. Is this how her wedding night would go?
"You're crazy," she whispered.
"What?" He raised an eyebrow as he dropped his pants. Nanae turned her head away, refusing to look.
There was nothing she could do. He was so much stronger than she'd ever be. But she could at least say her piece.
She narrowed her eyes on him, gripping the sheets, "I said: You're insane!"
Nanae faltered. But she didn't want to give him the pleasure. "No," she lied.
"Good," he smirked, lifting her chin with his hand, "then I won't be gentle." He spat the last word in her face.
Without another word, Madara's grip shifted, his hand moving to the back of her neck as he pulled her into a rough kiss. There was no gentleness, no tenderness—only a fierce, almost punishing intensity. His hand gripped her throat as he pulled away, before she could even take a breath he had kissed her again. She protested against his lips but in response he tightened his grip on her throat. The smell of sake and musk overwhelmed her senes.
Nanae raised arms, wrapping them around his neck and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. It wasn't as if she'd never kissed anyone before.
Whether it had surprised him or not, Madara didn't pause in his attack.
He pulled away, breaking off the kiss. He ran a hand through her hair spread out on the bed before wrapping it around his hand and pulling it down, forcing her to reveal her neck to him.
Nanae couldn't help but let a whimper escape as he bit down on her neck. He moved across her neck, leaving a stinging feeling. She pushed against his chest, protesting his rough dominance. Madara seemed completely unphased. Instead his hand gripped the front of her dress, ripping it off her body in one swift movement.
Nanae watched it fly across the bed, landing on his weapons corner. The cool air brushing against her skin rang warning alarms in her head, and her hands instinctively went to cover herself. Her knees rose up, accidentally touching his crotch. She gasped. He was completely naked.
Madara grabbed her wrists, roughly pinning them above her head with one hand whilst the other squeezed her breast. Nanae yelped. It felt like he was trying to pop a balloon, his fingers dug into her breast, causing tears to gather in her eyes.
He reached down a hand between her thighs, pressing a finger against her warmth and stilled. She turned her head, letting her arm cover his view of her face. She saw him smirk for he had discovered how wet she was.
Without warning he shoved a finger inside her. She gasped.
Her breath hitched slightly each time he slipped his finger in and out.
He released her hands and instead grabbed her knees, parting her legs and positioning himself between them. He rubbed his tip against her folds, wetting it before pressing himself close to her entrance.
"Liar," Madara hovered over her, both hands on each side of her head. He lowered his face closer to her ear, "you've never been with a man."
His words barely registered in her head before he entered her with one, powerful thrust.
Nanae let out a cry at the unexpected sensation, digging her nails into his forearm.
He stilled for a moment. Her thighs trembled against his waist. He looked down at her flushed face as he pulled out, smirking sardonically, before buckling his hips against hers.
"Ah," she cried out, squeezing her thighs against his waist. He started moving at a swift, even pace, each thrust leaving her without breath. She writhed under him, trying to move her hips back.
Madara let out a grunt, she was tight. He grabbed the back of her knee, lifting her leg away from his waist.
Nanae whimpered, she was getting light headed again. She was completely engulfed in his smell, his hair falling around her head like a curtain, rustling against the sheets with each movement. Her fingers, at this point, had drawn blood and she was breathing like she'd just finished a marathon. Yet, she felt that familiar feeling in her core, a tension coiling and building slowly.
Madara's eyes met Nanae's. Ebony meeting emerald. He recognized that look. She was close. His countenance growing arrogant and mocking. He lifted himself off her, pulling out at the same time, leaving her trembling at the absence of his warmth and that unfamiliar, stretching sensation between her legs.
Nanae sat up, pulling the sheets to cover her bare body. When she looked up, he was gone, the room was empty and she was alone again.
