Chapter 120 White Eyes, White Lies

This chapter is 100% NSFW content, and since it involves Kuro, it violates policy and has therefore been posted elsewhere.

If you wish to read it, please use the following link https://archiveofourown.org/works/66075871/chapters/185276446

Chapter 120 (Rewrite)

The walk back through the Inuzuka compound was somehow louder in silence than the streets had been. Out there, the genjutsu softened the edges of truth; in here, scent trumped sight, and there was no hiding anything. Every Inuzuka we passed—shinobi or ninken—paused, sniffed the air, and knew.

The murmurs followed us like a breeze. I crawled behind Koji on the leash, collar tag chiming at my throat, tail plug shifting inside me with every step until my hips couldn’t help but sway.

A few clanmates smirked at Koji as if he’d just won a friendly bet. A couple of pups crept too close, all curious ears and bright eyes, and Kuro moved between them and me with a single low rumble—nothing threatening, nothing unkind, just a clear not yours. He didn’t look away from me as we continued, posture steady, sentinel-calm.

The hallway to Koji’s place felt endless. When the door shut behind us, the quiet went heavy and sweet. Koji stripped in three impatient motions. He was already hard; denial had wound him tight, and the sight of me on all fours with his tag against my throat didn’t exactly calm him down.

“Almost ready to breed you senseless, Yuki,” he said, voice low. “Just a little more patience.”

It was cruel how much I loved hearing that. My body ached. Every hour he’d kept me on the edge thrummed behind my ribs.

Koji dropped onto the couch, legs spread, cock flushed and slick at the tip. Kuro settled a respectful distance away near the door, head high, ears forward—watching, present, utterly non-interfering.

“C’mere,” Koji said, curling two fingers—no chakra string needed tonight. I crawled between his knees, hands behind my back because he liked the line of my shoulders when I did that.

“Open,” he said.

I obeyed. He didn’t thrust. He let me take him exactly how I’d learned he wanted: slow, worshipful, no hands, my tongue pressing the underside of his shaft in long strokes until the weight of him made my jaw ache. His taste bloomed warm on my tongue—salt and heat and Koji—and my head went pleasantly empty.

“Good slut,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over my hair, then gripping it to hold me still while he rolled his hips just enough to smear pre across my tongue. “That’s it. Show me how much you appreciate your Alpha’s cock.”

I moaned around him and felt him thicken.

He made me switch. Lips at the crown, then down, then back up to kiss the sensitive place just below his head; then down to his sack—hair rough against my mouth, the skin tight and heavy with the kind of fullness that made my own throat throb in sympathy. I sucked one, then the other, until his breath broke and his thighs tensed.

“Eyes up,” he ordered.

I looked up. He held my gaze as he guided himself between my lips again, the power in the small movement making my nipples harden. Kuro’s claws ticked once against the floor as he shifted to keep us both in view—still and quiet as a statue otherwise.

“Timing,” Koji said, a grin cutting across his mouth. “You know the game.”

I did. He wanted to see how close I could bring him and hold him there—ride the fine edge until he was trembling. It took everything I’d learned about him: the angle of suction, the pressure of tongue, when to pull away and breathe across his slick head instead of swallowing him down. He was right there, breath gone ragged, fingers tight in my hair—

“Stop.”

I did. He slid free with a wet sound that made my cheeks flame. I licked the shine from my lips and breathed through the urge to rock my hips against the floor.

“Hands,” he said.

I brought them forward, palms up. He placed his cock across them like a gift. “Hold it. Don’t stroke.”

The weight of him lay hot on my skin. He watched my throat work. I watched the vein in his, fluttering. The air between us felt like a wire.

“Now,” he said, and I wrapped my fingers around him and stroked once, slow enough that it felt like a threat. His groan rumbled low in his chest.

“Again.”

I obeyed, pace unhurried, head bowed, tail swaying involuntarily with each long pull. The humiliation—the worship—coiled tighter inside me with every chime of my collar.

“On your knees,” he said. “Back, back—good. Keep stroking.”

I knelt at a distance he liked—far enough that he could aim. He dragged his thumb under the head and gasped.

“Byakugan,” he said, voice rough with something dark and reverent. “Open it. Look at me with those white eyes I own.”

Heat clawed up my neck. I flared chakra; the world bloomed in delicate lines and soft, veined shadows. His cock stood out like a lit path in the dark. He hissed at the sight.

“Perfect,” he said. “Keep those pretty eyes wide. Keep watching me while I ruin them.”

The words hit me low and mean. It made everything in me clench.

He stood. I kept the rhythm, slow and precise. Kuro didn’t move—watchful, quiet, a silent perimeter around our heat.

“Where?” I whispered.

Koji’s smile bared a hint of fang. “On what else? The village worships those eyes. I use them.”

I swallowed. “Yes, Alpha.”

The sound he made at that was almost a snarl. His hips punched forward once into my hands, once more, again—pace breaking—and I knew. I tipped my face up and widened my vision until the Byakugan shone like twin moons.

“Keep them open,” he groaned.

I did.

He came in a bright, hot arc that struck directly across my gaze—first shot landing hard on the left, the second on the right, and then another, and another, strings of heat painting my irises white on white until my view blurred to shining milk. I gasped, but I didn’t shut them. I wouldn’t. He wanted them open; I wanted to give him everything.

“Take it, Yuki,” he growled, voice breaking. “Take it with your eyes. That’s all the Byakugan is in front of me—targets. Toys. Mine to mark.”

I moaned helplessly, eyes stinging, cum sliding hot across my lashes, down the bridge of my nose, over my cheeks. He finished with a ragged curse and a final, heavy pulse that landed squarely on the caged-bird seal—exactly where he wanted it.

Silence swelled, thick and pleased. My breath shuddered. Koji stood over me, chest heaving, the lines of his body stark and beautiful. Cum dripped from my lashes in slow threads; I blinked and felt more spill, warm trails curving over the seal and along my jaw.

“Look at you,” he said hoarsely. “Look at my white-eyed girl.”

He thumbed one cheekbone, smearing his mark wider. Then he crouched, brought the heads of his fingers to my mouth. “Thank me.”

I leaned in and licked his fingers clean, then pressed a kiss to the slick crown that still twitched faintly. “Thank you, Alpha,” I whispered. “For giving my eyes a real purpose.”

He shivered. “Open wider.”

I opened. He slid just the tip in, letting me taste the last of him straight from the source, then pulled back to tap my lips with it three times, obscene little pats that made my clit throb.

“Good girl,” he said, voice finally softening. “You kept them open. You always do.”

I was trembling, arousal ricocheting through me with nowhere to land. “Please,” I whispered, shameless now. “Please, Koji. I’ve been good. Breed me. I need—”

Kuro’s ears flicked at my tone; he made a single quiet woof, nothing more. Koji’s gaze cut that direction and back, satisfaction flaring.

“You’ve earned it,” he said, catching my leash and drawing me up, up, until I was bent over the arm of the couch—face still sticky, eyes still wet, cunt so slick I could feel heat on my inner thighs. He palmed my ass, spread me, admired the tail with a pleased sound that went all the way through my bones.

“You’re mine,” he told me, the promise heavy as a hand on the back of my neck. “All night. No stops.”

“Yes, Alpha,” I breathed, shaking. “Please.”

He lined up. My vision, still hazed with his mark, caught the long, bright shape of him in Byakugan edges—and then he pushed, and my world narrowed to stretch and heat and the sweet, brutal relief of finally being full.

Behind us, Kuro settled in, folding neatly at his post, gaze steady. He didn’t move. He didn’t need to. He was there, witness to the only truth that mattered: Koji holding me open, Koji using me, Koji claiming what he’d wound tight for hours and was finally ready to spend.