Day 11
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Dinner had been delicious. But, then again, her cooking always was.
It was just one of the many reasons that he’d tallied as a payoff for his unrelenting pursuit and eventual conquest. The full benefits; having her brought to his city, married to him, filling his belly, warming his bed; they were innumerable. For two years he had enjoyed the view as her husband; a clandestine glimpse into her most vulnerable as well as most desirable moments, and each night that he crawl into bed beside her felt like the first.
The start of their married life had been bliss and he’d become rightfully addicted to her. He preferred when she kept her work within the city, but welcomed the enthusiasm with which she returned to him after an absence. He loathed going to bed alone when work kept her late, but relished in how she would cuddle up to him in her sleep after a long night at the Kage office. Equally as boastful of her beauty as he was coveting of it, he’d been enamored by her feminine nature and how her standalone strength melted away when she leaned into him.
This inclination he had toward her, over the course of their marriage, had uncovered things both expected about their desires for one another, as well as those unexpected.
A cup of tea placed in front of him, Sakura bent down and kissed his face as she took his empty plate. Squeezing the hand on his shoulder, Gaara brought the cup to his lips and savored the warm drink after a good meal. It was an early dinner they had shared this evening, a rarity these days, and they found themselves with plenty of time to finally enjoy the privacy of their marital home again.
“I’m glad you liked it,” she said after a sip of her own tea from the kitchen. The plates could be heard in the sink and she started the water. Gaara got up and brought his cup with him. “I finally had time to do a proper marinade.”
Standing behind her, Gaara placed one hand on her hip and used the cup in his other to push the handle of the faucet off. “I’ll finish those later,” he said, lips pressed against her ear. “Why don’t you relax?”
“All right,” she hummed, leaning back against him and enjoying the way he squeezed her waist. She turned her face and gave him another kiss against his jaw. “I’m going to change.”
Releasing her, he watched as she took her cup down the hall to the bedroom, warming her hands with it as she went. He couldn’t help but grin at his wife’s affections, a familiar feeling settling about the atmosphere of the house, and he quickly finished clearing the table and ran some water over the dishes to soak.
Sakura entered the bedroom, her paces quickening once she had disappeared down the hall, and set her cup down on the bedside table. She switched on the bedside lamp and slipped out of the long, fitted skirt she had put on after work, it had done its job in garnering Gaara’s attention as soon as he’d returned from the office, and her blouse followed soon after. Humming to herself through a faint smile, she turned before her vanity mirror in nothing but her panties and a sheer bra, admiring herself as the sole object of her husband’s desire. Tossing her hair around a little, she mussed it up a bit before pinning it up away from her neck with a singular hairpin.
A strike of a match lit a candle on her bedside dresser, she loved the way the sandstone walls reflected warm ambient light, and she pulled a bottle from one of the top drawers. Bumping it closed with her hip, she popped the top open and poured sweet vanilla scented oil into her palm, counting down the seconds until she had company standing in the bedroom doorway.
Even over the sink running in the kitchen, Gaara had heard the drawer in their bedroom down the hall thump closed. He shut off the water, now noticing the faint smell of smoke wafting into the kitchen; a burnt match, and his tea was left forgotten on the counter. Further down the hall and he noticed the scent of her bedside candle, his anticipation grew.
He found her stood in front of her vanity when he leaned quietly against the doorframe of their bedroom, she was all but naked and pretended not to notice him a she rubbed down her arms and shoulders. Being of a more hospitable climate, she had put great effort into taking care of her skin and he had been all too eager to assist in her routines. Much as he was now, but he refrained; it often paid to hold back a little, and after a moment of drinking in the skin he’d longed to see all night, her eyes found his through the mirror and she quickly looked away with a smirk pulling the corners of her lips.
“What?” she asked, playing coy.
“I thought you were changing,” he observed, taking in her physique from head to toe.
“I did,” was her only reply before she picked up the bottle of body oil and held it out to him.
An invitation he’d never turn down; he stepped inside their bedroom, took the bottle, and pulled her close as she leaned against him, head rested on his shoulder. A little bit of oil in his palm and he caressed a smooth line down her waist and over her hips, taking a generous pass over her shapely backside as he did.
Sakura pulled her head back to look at him, brow playfully quirked over her eyes.
“What?” he asked, returning her coy nature. Continuing the slow circles about her hips and waist, he pressed her muscles with his thumbs and squeezed her hips until she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging off him to better relax under his soothing touch.
Gaara, loving the weight of her body and the shape of her against him, took a savored inhale of the scent of her conditioner from her morning shower and the body oil intoxicating his senses. Satisfied and starved; the way she always left him, and he’d gladly spend the rest of his life chasing the highs she brought him to.
“I was trying to get everything, you know,” she scolded as she pulled away, clearly growing impatient with his current fixation on her hips.
“Why don’t you lie down,” he suggested, spinning them around and walking her back a few paces to their bed. His shirt was up and over his head in a moment and he offered, “I’ll help you with the rest.”
Skeptical, and having every reason to be, she lay back on the bed and allowed him to pull a foot into his lap. Hands slick with oil, he rubbed the balls of her feet and stroked up the curve of her ankles, spreading the warm scent up her calves and to the back of her knees. Sakura hummed a sigh of content and Gaara watched as she sunk herself into the pillows of their bed, stretching out the length of her waist and brushing her soft skin against him she did the same with her legs.
He slipped her legs around him and leaned forward to grab her. When he pulled her down, sitting her hips in his lap and finding easier access to his next area of massage, his wife had yelped a little and pulled a pillow from the head of the bed down with her. Giggling and gasping with pleasure, she had certainly needed the attention after a long week of rounds at the hospitals. She was a busy woman in high demand, and not only did her husband often have to take a number, but time for herself did as well. Her muscles were tense, she had hard knots behind her hips, her shoulders rested high these days, and Gaara sought to do something about it.
“Turn over,” he muttered in the quiet of their bedroom. “I’ll get your back.” He pulled up her legs from around him and when she did as he said, he settled himself over her, the front of his loose pants pressed up to the ass he began to fondle.
“Gaara,” Sakura warned, though her voice was a little light on authority.
“Sorry,” he said with a smirk, sliding his hands up the small her back and pressing into all the sweet spots up to her shoulders. She moaned at the release of the tension in her muscles and he continued his administration, ever greedy for the outcome of such diligence. With every reach to smooth his hands over her shoulders, he rocked his hips against hers and he could practically feel her melting with every stroke.
Caressing a continuous path along her curves and savoring her softness, he worked the remaining oil into her skin and admired the way her hair fell about her face and how her brow knitted together when he worked circles around her knots. It was a particular favorite sight of his, face pressed into the pillow as she was, and he bit his lip trying not to get ahead of himself.
The past few weeks had been so busy he hadn’t the opportunity to invest such attention into his marriage, but tonight was to be different. It wasn’t often that they had time like this and he intended to do it right.
“My love,” he called out to her as he stretched himself over her form and placed a kiss against her shoulder. “I want you.”
Smiling beneath him, Sakura released a pleasurable sigh as his lips brushed across her skin, reveling in the way he pressed his pelvis against her to emphasize his point. “You do?” she questioned, feigning an innocence that tempted him to forgo his patience.
“Mhmm,” he hummed in reply, leaning over to the bedside table and pulling open a drawer. He took a bundle from the drawer and kneeled over her hips, admiring the way her panty line accentuated the curve of her buttocks and enjoying the swollen ego he became afflicted with when blessed by such a sight. With a single pull of the end, the bundle unfurled, and Sakura quietly gasped when the soft fray of the jute rope brushed across the smooth plane of her skin. She turned around a little to look back at him and she found him with a committed and hungry gaze. “What about you?”
His answer was an uplift of her hips under him, pressing herself against the front of his pelvis to further entice his desire for her.
He had a suspicion as to when this particular fixation of his began, and it had been innocently enough. Only trying to help, he’d been inspecting a safety harness for her use in the early months of their marriage and found that it didn’t meet his high standards once fitted to his wife. Not one to be having any of that, Gaara instead unbuckled the thing and used their thicker climbing rope to fashion his own around her with a certainty he could trust. Though, he hadn’t anticipated the sudden and untimely onset of arousal when he began constructing the bindings about her waist and around her thighs, and knew he had unwittingly done himself in when she leaned against him to make adjusting the fit easier.
Just as that first time, every night that he dragged the frayed ends of their ropes across her skin and bound her in his love and his intent, he fell for her all over again.
With her now sat on the bed with him, she took her turn enjoying his warm skin and the tone of his muscles. She kneeled beside him as Gaara untangled the length of rope, kneading his shoulders and upper back, massaging his bicep and pressing her breasts against him. He took his time feeding armlengths of rope through his palm, savoring the rough texture of the rope as it would contrast with the softness of her skin. Her fingers found their way through his hair and he groaned in pleasure when her nails scratched at his scalp, he rested his head against her and shuddered when she brought the shell of his ear between her teeth.
Doubling the rope, he turned to face her and took a moment to kiss her fully and thoroughly for the first time, savoring the way that she became languid once settled into his lap. With the rope behind her, he brought it forward and around beneath her breasts, observing the expanding of her ribs as she took slow and rhythmic breaths, and fitted the first banding snugly, but not too tight. A second pass around her chest and he looped the second through the first behind her, bringing the long tail of the doubled rope up and over her right shoulder before plunging it below the rope at her sternum. Back up and over her left shoulder, woven through the interchange at the back, and he finally had the framework for the body harnesses he loved wrapping her in so dearly.
Breath hot against her skin, he dragged his nose along her shoulder, staining his lips with the taste of her, and muttered, “I missed you.”
Yes, she had known, and it was precisely why such small hints from her had led to their current entanglement. Just one pass by his office on the way home and he’d followed her, her first offer to relax and vent about his day was taken full advantage of, and she’d even changed into something that would ensure his eyes never left her for the remainder of the night. Seeing to it that he had a good meal and her undivided attention, she had anticipated the natural outcome of her actions and prepared accordingly; she wouldn’t even miss her underwear if they were found trapped beneath the rope and at the mercy of his need for her.
“I missed you, too.”
With pleasurable sighs and flirty giggles, Sakura basked in the earnest fixation of her husband. His compulsion with binding her had been a surprising one but after a time or two spent humoring his peculiar desires, she soon found herself anticipating the addition of the ropes within their bedroom. He was always attentive in their lovemaking, but the ropes gave him a certain level of patience and a sense of craftsmanship that she couldn’t help but crave every so often.
With every pass he wove around her body, with every loop that he tightened just so, she felt the stress and the tension from her long and demanding week fall away. Patients, projects, emergencies; all fell short of the deliberate and sensual embrace of the ropes that her husband took the utmost care wrapping her in. He also had an eye for detail that didn’t often surface in their day to day lives, but when he focused on her like this, he manipulated the angles and the knots of the jute against her skin to accentuate and highlight certain features of hers that excited him. He enjoyed pulling the bindings a little tighter against her hips and her thighs, finding the slight budge of her skin between the ropes and what it did to his thoughts to be positively sinful.
Observing his work, Sakura’s shoulders were wrapped in a jute halter that outlined her breasts beneath her bra, encircled her waist in crisscrossing straps leading to her hips, and he’d finished the tail end of his rope off by securing a series of consecutive crosses down her left thigh. Gaara ran his hands down the sides of her waist, encouraging her to lay back for him, and when she did, he pulled her hips into his lap once again.
“Happy with yourself,” she teased as she fluffed her pillow behind her head.
Though his eyes never left the enticing vision of her body, he nodded and continued to caress her skin beneath the wrappings of rope. Soft skin punctuated by rough cords of rope; an alternating pattern that left his hands desperate to feel her fully naked beneath his touch, and it appeared to Gaara that his wife felt the same.
Settled enticingly into the bedding, Sakura squirmed about beneath him, bringing up her legs to brush against his bare skin, slipping her ankles around over his hips and beckoning him further. She wrapped her arms around him as he stretched out atop of her and he kissed her hard, losing himself in the feeling of her bound in his handiwork, in the way that she arched up against him and lifted her hips up to his own.
He grabbed her hips and kept them pressed with his own, mesmerized by how such a sight could make him feel so powerful and in control, yet so helplessly at the mercy of her love. Her touch could dispel the echoes of his loneliest memories, her voice could lull him into a safety and calm that he hadn’t thought possible for him, and her love as his friend, as his wife, had remade him into a new man, one he was confident could uphold her happiness and their marriage until the end of his days.
“I love you,” he said as his eyes found hers.
She smiled back at him, the sincerity of his voice drowning in the depths of her desire for him evident in her gaze. “How much?”
Involuntarily, his hands gripped her body as he rocked his hips. “More than anything,” he answered, the expression on his face and the strain in his voice conveying his desperation.
With her arms outstretched toward him, she beckoned him down to her, pulling in every last ounce of his attention and his lust and his love. “Show me.”
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