250 Words
Shisui always teased him by saying how he must've dominated Hinata in the bedroom. Itachi let him. He wasn't one to kiss and tell, especially not pertaining to matters regarding his wife. Those were their secrets. And he doubted Shisui could handle them anyway.
He never wanted anyone else to know how Hinata had fucked his brains out—more than once—in his office. It was a gargantuan feat, considering the brains in question. They had done it on the very spot on his desk that Shisui liked to lean against, while complaining to him.
The most recent occurrence happened in the middle of the night when he'd decided to pull one of his rare all-nighters because of a budgeting mistake in their accounting department. Those responsible had been promptly fired or replaced, but not because he was angry about having to pick up their slack. It was just for the good of the company and so forth.
Besides, he couldn't hate them. Not when they were the reason Hinata had come to him, worry in her eyes and with boxes of takeout in her hands.
"You look tense," he remembered her saying, before she touched him.
The rest of the night was a pleasurable blur of skin and unimaginable heat. She knew exactly what her body did to him. The skimpy black lace she wore that night only made it better.
Itachi vividly recalled having to cancel all of his meetings the next day just so he could recover.