Exploring Yuffie

Yuffie didn't wait for me to close the distance. True to her word, she didn't run. She launched herself at me.

She grabbed the lapels of my coat and pulled herself up, standing on her tiptoes, and smashed her lips against mine. It wasn't a romantic kiss. It was a heist. Her mouth was hot, aggressive, and impatient. She bit my lower lip, hard enough to sting, her tongue darting into my mouth like she was looking for hidden materia.

She tasted of mint gum and adrenaline, sharp, sweet, and frantic.

I let her have the moment. I stood like a statue, letting her **** my mouth, feeling her small, athletic body pressing against me. She ground her hips against my thigh, a crude, **** friction. She was trying to prove she could take the lead.

"Mmph!" she hummed against my mouth, her hands sliding up to tangle in my hair. "Mine."

"Finished?" I asked, breaking the kiss and pulling my head back.

Yuffie blinked, her lips swollen and wet. She smirked, a cocky, uneven grin.

"Just getting started, old man. I'm checking for valuables."

"You found one," I said. "Now let's see what you're hiding."

I moved fast. Faster than she expected. I grabbed both of her wrists in one hand. Her bones were light, delicate like a bird's, but wrapped in wiry, potent muscle. I pinned them effortlessly above her head against the cold steel pillar behind her.

Yuffie gasped, her eyes widening. She tried to yank her hands free, a reflex action, but my grip was iron.

"Hey! Unhand the Great Ninja!" she protested, though her voice lacked real heat. She kicked at my shin, a playful tap.

"Ninjas rely on hand seals," I murmured, leaning down until my nose brushed hers. "If I pin your hands... you're powerless."

"I... I can still kick your ass," she stammered, her breath hitching as I moved my free hand to her waist.

"We'll see."

I focused on her crop top. It was a loose, green knit that barely covered her ribs. I slid my hand underneath. Her skin was freezing from the night air, covered in goosebumps. My hand was scalding hot. The contrast made her hiss through her teeth.

"Cold! Hot! Ah!" she squeaked, arching her back away from the steel pillar and into my hand.

I traced the line of her abs. She was incredibly toned, a washboard stomach defined by years of acrobatics and training. But she was tiny. Compact. I could span her entire waist with one hand.

"You're shaking, Yuffie."

"It's... it's the wind!" she lied, biting her lip.

"Liar."

I pushed the crop top up. I bunched it around her neck, trapping her chin. She wasn't wearing a bra.

I stepped back slightly to look at the prize. Yuffie Kisaragi was a study in petite perfection. Her breasts were small, barely a handful each, but they were perky and proud, defying gravity. The cold air had turned her pale nipples into hard, dark pebbles that pointed straight out.

She looked down at herself, then at me, her face flushing a deep crimson. The bravado cracked just a little.

"Stop staring!" she snapped, trying to wiggle her arms free to cover herself. "They're not... big like Tifa's cows! There's nothing to see!"

"Quality over quantity," I whispered.

I leaned in and covered one of her small breasts with my mouth. It fit perfectly. I swirled my tongue around the hardened nipple, teasing the textured skin.

Yuffie let out a high-pitched keen, her legs buckling. If I hadn't been pinning her to the pillar, she would have slid to the floor.

"Eep! That's... that's sensitive!" she cried out. "Don't... don't suck it!"

I ignored her. I sucked. Hard. I drew the nipple deep into my mouth, treating it like a piece of candy. I nipped at it with my teeth, just enough to startle her.

"Ow! Hey! I'm not food!" she protested, but her hips were betraying her. She started grinding against my leg again, harder this time, a frantic, **** rhythm.

I switched to the other breast, giving it the same tormenting attention. I could feel her heart hammering against her ribs, right against my lips. She was wired tight, a bundle of nerves and energy that was quickly unraveling into pure sensation.

"You talk too much," I muttered against her skin.

I let go of her wrists. Before she could cover herself, I grabbed the waistband of her famous shorts. The button popped open with a satisfying snap. The zipper hissed down.

"Wait! Time out!" Yuffie panicked, grabbing my wrists. "My shorts! Those are custom! You can't just—"

I hooked my thumbs inside and yanked. Shorts and panties went down in one smooth motion, pooling around her combat boots.

The cold night air hit her nether regions. Yuffie froze. She stood there, pinned against the pillar, naked except for her boots, unbuttoned shorts around her ankles, and the crop top around her neck.

She was completely exposed. Her hips were narrow, her thighs slender and powerful. And between them... a neat, manicured landing strip of dark hair, just enough to show she wasn't a child, but groomed to perfection.

She pressed her thighs together tight, trying to hide. Her face was burning. The bratty ninja was gone, replaced by a girl who suddenly realized she was in way over her head.

"Open them," I commanded.

Yuffie shook her head, looking away. "No. It's cold. And you're... you're looking at me like a wolf."

I reached down and pried her knees apart. She resisted for a second using her strong adductor muscles, but then she yielded.

"I am a wolf, Yuffie. And you're the treat."

I knelt before her. At eye level with her pussy, the scent hit me. It wasn't the heavy musk of Tifa or the floral scent of Aerith. It was sharp. Citrusy. Sweet. And despite the cold air... she was steaming.

I looked up at her. She was looking down, chewing on her lip, her eyes wide and wet.

"What... what are you gonna do?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I'm going to steal your voice," I said.

I grabbed her small hips to hold her steady. And I went in.