Written as a Christmas gift for my internet buddy, Anko.

MERRY CHRISTMAS ANKO. I figured the best gift would be the gift of smut. :D

Warning: Massively long PWP, first attempts at a lemon (If it sucks, please, please tell me how I can improve.), various other warnings that I could list but would only ruin the surprise.

If sex makes you squicky, avert your eyes!

- Kodu

Got Sand in Your Pants?

He was nothing short of beastly. The low growls grated against her eardrums; harsh, yes, but pleasant in their rough quality. It was an odd experience, to say the least. Sakura hadn't been planning to jump in bed with the red-haired boy, but it turned out that these such matters had a way of just tumbling out of control.

He had her at 'Or else'.

Death threats didn't move her.

Death threats coupled with that underlying hint of helplessness were enough to nearly choke her.

Gaara didn't beg - he would never be the type - but he was just so unsure in these kinds of matters. That strange emotion that overrode every instinct beat into his very being, that strong, fearsome 'lust', had given him an odd kind of adrenaline rush. He felt stronger, and yet his senses seemed impaired.

He didn't like it.

He wanted to fight it.

He wanted to dig his vicious, theoretical claws into her and rip out whatever strange type of hypnosis she had fooled him with.

Sakura sensed this, the murderous intent radiating from the shinobi above her, and shifted slightly under him, her hips rising to rub against the arousal she felt there. If she could just loosen him up for a few minutes, get him to drop that frustrating guard he always kept raised and at the ready, then this whole situation could be far more enjoyable.

Sand wasn't the tastiest thing to kiss, after all, and she was eager to find out just how soft the skin beneath his infamous sand armor could be.

Besides, Ino-Pig's mocking lilt of, 'Got sand in your pants?' would never be forgotten, if they took this any further and he didn't drop the shield.

Sakura wanted sex with Gaara, dammit! Not his infuriating sand!

"Here," the boy in question ground out roughly, his own hips pressing down against hers in a harsh grind. He wasn't pleased with her wandering attention, and in an effort to direct those light emerald eyes back onto his own, he had done the only thing he could think to do with his mind so foggy: Distract her from the distractions.

The medic blanched, a sound very much like a soft 'mewl' escaping her parted lips, making her blush bright pink at the little slip up.

"G-Gaara... wait, your sand-"

She was cut off by the feral growl which tore from the sand-user's throat, and the delicious way he moved his hips in slow, aching circles.


It had been a matter of much discussion between the two. Sakura would complain that his armor was scratchy. Gaara would grunt. Sakura would say it tasted weird. Gaara would say, 'Get over it'. Sakura would admit her desire to touch him, and not some pre-constructed defense he had erected around himself. Gaara would kiss her senseless until she had forgotten what, exactly, she had been complaining about in the first place.

Their routine was flawless.

The pink-haired kunoichi opened her mouth as if to protest, but was cut off by her own moan as Gaara raked his blunt fingernails down her clothed body and pressed his erection down onto her lower stomach.

He was dragging her along the edge, teasing her with little tastes and touches of what could be if she just simply surrendered.

Sakura wasn't one to admit defeat.

"Not until the sand is off," she intoned, trying to make her voice clipped and cold. It only came out slightly quavery.

Unfortunately, Gaara wasn't one to admit defeat, either.

He didn't answer with words, but only increased his efforts.

Strong, long-fingered hands rubbed roughly up and down her struggling body, never in one place for too long. One moment, he was rubbing her arms, smoothing his hands along her shoulders; the next he was sinfully close to the one place on her body that ached the most, fingers sliding beneath the waistband of her shorts/skirt, teasing the skin, even as his thumbs kneaded her hips in a slow, delicious manner.

It was nothing short of torture, and had Sakura writhing beneath him in an effort to gain some control.

He never let her have the opportunity.

Gaara rocked against her, his lithe frame only slightly larger than her own. He had recently undergone a growth spurt (As his siblings teasingly called it.), and had grown a few inches taller than the medic - something his instinctive male ego found pride in.

He used his bigger size to his advantage, and pinned Sakura's wandering hands above her, taking the effort to use both of his own hands for the job. She was disproportionately strong, after all, and he had no doubt that, were she in her right mind, a little burst of controlled chakra could throw him off in a heartbeat.

The fact that he was still above her, sexing her senseless, only proved that she wanted this to happen.

Gaara smirked, the new position making him lean forward so his nose was mere inches from her own. He looked like a giant, predatory panther after having cornered its prey, and seemed almost comfortable stretched out on top of her in such a dominant position. The glint in his eyes showed his dark amusement at the matter.

Sakura shuddered.

Damn the sexy bastard! Making her want him, despite his egotistically stubborn views. Oh, he would pay.

"What do you want, Sakura?"

The medic blinked up at him, confused that he would actually take the effort to talk. Usually, Gaara was the 'strong, silent' type. He spoke very little, only detailing things of importance, and found meaningless conversation pointless and stupid. It was easier to go straight to the heart of the matter, rather than dance around in lilting, word-induced comas.

Usually, that went double for foreplay. He took control of things, guiding silently, letting his posture and his body speak volumes more than his words or facial features ever could. Sometimes, it was simply best to show by example.

He never spoke out of turn, and kept any sounds of pleasure to a minimum... Usually.

Tonight, it seemed a new Gaara had come out to play.

Briefly, Sakura wondered if perhaps the Shukaku inside of him was influencing any of his decisions. (She had found out about Gaara's demon a few months ago, courtesy of Naruto's loud, clumsy mouth. The redhead would have never volunteered such information on his own.) Was it the demon raccoon telling him to grind his clothed arousal sensually against the place between her legs that ached with need? Was it the Bijuu that told him to lean down and nibble at her earlobe, his teeth worrying the skin as his tongue massaged the tip?

Sakura found that she didn't really give a damn.

"Gaara... th-the sand..." Her voice trailed off as his mouth descended, lips pulled back to nip at the skin revealed to him. He smirked against her neck, licking at her pulse point once, twice, before pulling back to answer.

"You want my sand?"

'ARGH, the infuriating BASTARD.' Inner Sakura was rearing her ugly head.

"No!" The silent 'You idiot!' at the end of that sentence was left unsaid, but understood by both.

"Then what do you want?" His words were muffled by her own skin. He lowered his head to run his nose back and forth along the crook of her neck. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew he was inhaling her scent, tasting her like some kind of edible treat, Sakura might have thought the redhead was nuzzling her. The motion itself was mesmerizing. Dark locks of blood red hair tickled along her chin, her neck, and fell in messy waves around his delicate features.

Sakura couldn't stand to keep her hands to herself. She writhed beneath him, desperate puffs of breath escaping her slightly parted lips. She wanted to touch his hair, to run her fingers through those soft tresses - to tug at them, and breathe in that husky, arid, dry scent that followed him around everywhere he went. She stretched, hoping to wriggle out from his solid grasp, but only succeeded in pressing her breasts up against his heaving chest.

Gaara, as patient as he was, was on the brink of losing control. Touch was still a fairly new experience to him, and just feeling it through the fabric of his clothes, and through the hardened outer layer of sand that encased his body, was enough to drive him wild. His jade eyes darkened a shade and fell half-lidded as he watched the figure squirm beneath him. She bucked wildly at first, which only made his chest tighten and his pulse beat with vicious excitement. Their slow but forceful foreplay had taken a more violent turn, though Gaara couldn't complain. It appealed to his demonic nature, and only made him ache for her even more.

He leaned down, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw. Sakura jerked her head to the side in a show of blatant defiance, though the futile nature of this little disruption only made Gaara chuckle. He situated himself in a different position, rising up a bit so he was now straddling the medic-nin's hips, then pressed her wrists further down into the plush bedding, gripping both of them with a singe hand. A wicked smirk graced the redhead's lips as he saw recognition dawn in the other's wide, emerald eyes.

"Gaara... don't-!"

She was cut off again, though this time it was of Gaara's own doing. He pressed his lips against hers, the kiss far from tender. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he forced her mouth apart with his tongue, wholly intent on dominating every part of her being. She relented, though not without a good bout of struggling on her part, and sank back into the soft bedding as his lips and teeth and tongue stripped her of any sense of self-control she might have held onto. He was relentless. His tongue swiped gently around her mouth, teasing her own with fleeting touches, before he outright attacked her with a rough flourish. He pulled the muscle in and out of her mouth, mimicking the way his hips rubbed suggestively against her pelvis, that underlying rumble in his chest never once ceasing.

Sakura struggled weakly beneath him (when he got like this, sometimes it was hard to remember that she wasn't as helpless as he tried to make her believe), working her hips in a frenzy, arching upwards to stroke and grind the hardness she found there. The rough growl deepened, devolving into a low, throaty groan of satisfaction. The press of her feminine curves against his angular body was enough to send Gaara off the deep end. The slow rhythm of his hips began to falter and change as his actions became more frantic. Sakura matched his speed and voracity, her soft mewls and moans cut off by the redhead's mouth.

He pulled back suddenly, breaking their contact to suck in a deep, shuddering breath. Both jade eyes were watching Sakura's helpless cries of arousal, analyzing just what he could do to draw this moment out even further.

Gaara, when so inspired, was actually quite skilled at performing senseless acts of sexual torture towards the woman he so often took to bed.

It was a way to pass the time, in the very least.

The redhead released her straining wrists, smirking at the look of relief that flooded Sakura's features. The look was short lived. As soon as she tried to move her hands into a more comfortable position (One buried in Gaara's hair, perhaps, and another down his pants to stroke him into the same type of sexual frenzy he was teasing her with.), she found that they wouldn't budge an inch. It took her a moment to register the fact that he had bound her wrists in sand-cuffs - a jutsu as easy and flawless for him as breathing.

The snarl which tore from Sakura's throat at that instant was enough to rival one of Gaara's own feral growls.

It definitely gave him reason to pause, all his attention focused on the struggling ball of pink fluff beneath him.

"You-! Let go of... me... you - ARGH... bastard!" She seemed to be having trouble stringing along an intelligible sentence.

Gaara only smirked.

"If you think for one minute that you can get away with-! Oh... with thi- ... Mm..."

His hips had started up their slow grind again, pressing fervently against the heat that had pooled between her legs. The feeling was positively delicious, and had Sakura trembling with the need to draw her arms around him and pull him closer. She settled for bucking upwards, gasping softly when he timed his thrusts to indulge in her provocative movements.

If Gaara had had any less control of his desires, he would have fucked her senseless already.

"What do you want?" His voice was gruff now as he tried to speak past the lump in his throat. Something about her movements made his blood boil - made him want to thrust harder, and bite her flawless skin until she thrashed, and cried, and bled.

She didn't answer, and was far too occupied with wrapping her legs around his hips to try and get a better angle when their bodies clashed together.

Frustrated by her lack of response, the redhead paused all movement, his clothed erection pressed flush against her equally covered arousal. Sakura whimpered, silently begging him to move, and when he remained stoic, began to grind against his hardness in an effort to provide herself with that friction she so desperately wanted. Gaara, as stubborn as ever, pulled back ever-so-slightly, just enough to separate their lower regions entirely.


"What do you want?" His voice was a dangerous hiss, now, and it was obvious that he wouldn't be able to keep up this teasing for long.

"Clothing," she mumbled softly, closing her eyes as she strained her body for some kind of contact. "Clothing... take it off."

It didn't matter whether she meant her clothing, or his clothing. Gaara lifted up, fumbling with the buckles that held his leather vest together, undoing them with as much speed and dexterity as could any man who was painfully erect, with a beautiful woman beneath them begging for that base skin-on-skin contact. He threw the vest to the side without a care, then grabbed the hem of his black short-sleeved shirt and did the same. The medic struggled valiantly in her binds, her eyes bright and open as she feasted on the plains of muscle revealed to her. With the top two layers laying discarded on the floor, all that remained of the redhead's outfit were his black trouser pants, and a fishnet shirt that did little to hide his creamy white chest.

But damn, did the arrogant Sand shinobi look good!

Sakura was torn between deep appreciation for the view laid out before her, and crippling frustration for the fact that she couldn't touch that view.

"Mm," she mumbled lowly, her eyes soaking up the image of black lines crisscrossing along that lithe, flawless frame. The only visible scar he had was on the upper right part of his chest - where, long ago, Sasuke had chidori'd the smug twelve-year-old redhead, and made him bleed for the first time he could remember.

Not including the kanji for "Love" which graced his forehead.

That was self-inflicted. That didn't count.

Sakura's breath came out in a shaky sigh as Gaara's graceful fingers made quick work of the blouse she wore. He unbuttoned the bodice with ease, pausing each time to rub his thumbs along her skin in a strong, steady pattern. First her neck, which was subject to lazy figure eights, then her collarbone, which he rubbed in a mesmerizing up down, up down motion. He reached further down, black-rimmed eyes flicking towards her face for a moment, before dipping his hand into her bra and cupping her breast.

Her already shaky breath quickened, emerald eyes sliding half-shut again as he began a gentle kneading motion. His fingers were smooth, skilled, gliding along the underside of her breast in a motion too strong to be 'feathery', yet too light to be immediately noticeable. His thumb was moving, too, in small delicious circles along the top of her breast. As she writhed beneath him, those circle began to move. Down, then up, then down again - never quite touching her nipple, but never letting Sakura forget just how very much she wanted him to.

"What else?" he asked, and at that moment popped apart the clasp that held her bra in place. Sakura, who was too caught up in the sensations the redhead was pulling from her body, had been completely oblivious to the fact that his free hand had snaked around her back without her noticing.

So much for being a good, alert shinobi.

The pink-haired woman blushed crimson at the thought, while Gaara merely tilted his head to the side in a mocking inquiry. He knew damn well how intoxicating his presence could be! It almost wasn't fair to ask her to be fully alert when he was doing such things to her.

... And it definitely wasn't fair to ask her to be fully alert when he was looking at her like that.

Gaara's eyes raked across the other's form, shamelessly drinking in the sight of her disheveled appearance. He sat up a bit, his arousal brushing along her stomach, and nearly moaned as she arched upwards to rub against the length of it. His gaze traveled over her form - from her captured wrists, past the arch of her long, graceful arms; beyond her submissively bared neck and perk, supple breasts; and, finally, resting on the spot where their two flushed bodies met. His black-rimmed gaze lingered on her shirt, appreciating how it hung limply off both her shoulders, the button-up sides splayed out to display her flushed body, and yet couldn't be fully removed because of the sand binding her wrists. The white lacey bra hadn't been moved, only loosened, and rested lightly atop her breasts as a very loose, very easily removed covering.

A covering that would simply have to go.

Sakura squirmed beneath him again, white hot desire racing up her spine, through her arms, and making her fingers itch to touch him. He rather liked her bound for the moment, though, and didn't quite feel like freeing her, capturing her again, then taking the time to coax the anger back out of her.

Plan B it was, then.

A small trickle of sand swirled into existence beside Gaara's head, the tiny granules clashing and colliding with one another like some kind of breathing, living entity. The medic watched in detached fascination as a vague form began to mold from the reckless grains of sand. It took shape, hardened, and when Sakura finally realized what it was, she blanched.

A knife!?

He goes and pulls a fucking knife on her!?

There was an unwritten rule somewhere in the conduct between sexual relationships between shinobi. No knives. Between those of the same village, people became more lenient, more trusting, and sometimes came to accept that the person they were sleeping with wouldn't slit their throat in the middle of orgasmic bliss. Any kind of relationship between those of a different village, however, was far less trusting. It was difficult enough, simply being of a different village - betrayal was something you steeled yourself for, when it was entirely possible your lover could get an order to kill you.

But to use knives - or any kind of weapon, for that matter - while one was most vulnerable was just asking for a beating.

Unfortunately, Sakura's hands were bound at the moment.

She could have broken through the bindings, of course, but would have been captured again half a moment later - maybe even buried alive, if she caused enough damage to piss the Sand shinobi off.

"Gaara, stop!"

He ignored her, though, and leaned forward to lick a long line up the middle of her chest, between the valley of her breasts. He paused when the fabric of her bra blocked his way, then lifted up again to smirk down at her in bemusement. She was struggling violently now, because she was no longer faced with the possibility of sexual frustration, but with the possibility of a potential attack.

"Calm down," he whispered monotonously; bored, even, as he drew the sand-knife closer to her vulnerable flesh. Sakura squirmed beneath him, no longer bucking upwards to satiate her hunger for more contact, but thrashing around to try and throw him off of her instead. The redhead didn't budge, nor was his desire quelled by this frightening display of frantic desperation.

He couldn't promise he wouldn't hurt her; he very well might.

He couldn't promise he wouldn't kill her; the chances of him losing control were just too high.

But he could at least assure her that harming her, at this moment, was not his intention.

Gaara moved quickly, the sand-knife slicing through the fabric of her bra with ease. He felt Sakura still beneath him, holding her breath, and nearly chuckled at the display. Honestly, he wasn't that inept with a knife. Sliding the bra off of her, he continued to trail the fine, sharpened blade along her body, eyes glinting at the anger and fear mixed within her shocked gaze. She tried to struggle again, but he held her down with a hand at her hip, and moved the knife closer towards her shoulders. The sound of ripping fabric greeted both their ears as Gaara cut through her bodice, then pushed the tattered remains off her shoulders.

The agitated look Sakura threw his way did not escape his notice.

"That was expensive, you know."

He chuckled, the sand-knife disintegrating into thin air as he leaned forward.

"I'll make it up to you."

"...You better."

She knew he would.

His hands raked up her sides, palms smoothing along her ribs in slow motions. Starting from the hips, then upwards; inward, just a bit, to brush along her breasts, to her shoulders, then back down again. He repeated the process over and over, each touch measured, methodical. Soon, Sakura was squirming beneath him again, wishing with everything within her that he would touch her somewhere else, or do something to sate that gnawing hunger knocking through her bones.

Gaara could sense the desperation in her trembling body, and decided she'd had enough.

The fact that he was on the brink of losing control himself also helped to sway his decision.

Slowly, the redhead increased the pressure he put on her body, sliding his hands around to her front to rub and knead at her lower stomach. Sakura whimpered beneath him, spreading her legs slightly in an instinctive entreaty for him to get closer. She barely even noticed her own movements any more. Desire fogged her already hazy mind, and made it hard to reign in what little control she had left.

Skilled fingers teased her stomach for a while, drawing circles around her naval and scratching lightly at the skin. After a moment, Gaara moved down her body so his face was hovering over where his hands had just been. A darkly amused glint shone in his eyes as he glanced up, testing Sakura's tolerance for his games.

She was strong. She could be pushed a little further.

Else she'd just have to suffer.

The insomniac leaned in, his teeth nipping at the waistline of her shorts/skirt, pulling the fabric down inch-by-inch, then releasing it to lick and nibble at the skin revealed to him. The entire process was excruciatingly slow, and had Sakura clenching her teeth in an effort to not cry out in pain or passion.

Fury was acceptable, though.

"Gaara! If you don't take my pants off in the next five seconds, so help me God, I will personally de-man you and fossilize the remains to display on my mantel."

She felt rather than heard him snort, and was about to start kicking to emphasize her point, when the sound of a zipper being pulled down made her freeze. Cold air hit her bare thighs in an instant, as Gaara pulled the shorts clean off of her in one swift movement.

"Better?" he teased, his cheek resting atop her naked thigh, hot breath ghosting across her white lace panties. His gaze was turned towards said panties, an amused smirk lifting one side of his lips as he contemplated what to do to her next.

Sakura blushed bright crimson at the provocative sight. Gaara was staring at her... her privates as if she was something to be eaten!


Oh, hell.

The medic started struggling, moving to snap her legs firmly shut, but Gaara was too quick. Both hands were planted firmly on her inner thighs, pushing her legs apart to reveal her very core. The smirk never left his lips as he leaned in, nose bumping against the fabric of her underwear, taking in her scent and glancing up to revel in the humiliated blush gracing her features.

"Gaara, don't," she tried to plead. "Please, don't."

If he were a better person, he might have listened to her pleas.

Too bad he was a maniacal bastard.

He leaned in, pressing closer to the white panties, then snaked his tongue out and started licking along her slit through the fabric of her underwear. Slowly, the redhead added more force with his tongue, inwardly celebrating as he wrung soft little gasps from the unwilling kunoichi. Despite his usual stoic facade, Gaara truly did find a twisted sort of pleasure in pleasuring the girl beneath him. He shifted his mouth to lick at the very edge of her underwear, lips placing light kisses on the skin even as his teeth nipped along the fabric. He could feel heat radiating from between her legs, and slipped two fingers beneath the fabric to find her quite aroused by his ministrations.


The redhead slid both fingers up and down along her slit, never quite reaching that spot he knew would drive her crazy. At the same time, he dipped his head lower, pulling his lips back just enough to grab hold of the top of her panties with his teeth.


He tugged downward anyways, sliding his fingers out from beneath the fabric to assist his efforts.

"Gaara, don't!"

Two second later, she was stripped of her underwear, laying bare before her tormentor's hungry eyes. She was highly tempted to shout out a vehement, 'Stop, I'll kill you!', but figured saying something along those lines would be considered plagiarism - Gaara said it enough for it to be copyrighted by now.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, then leaned in and nuzzled her naked flesh, making her jump at the warm breath that washed across her shamelessly aroused form.

"No- oh... N-no, I said... sto- oh..."

He smirked, then circled his tongue around her clit once more, adding more pressure to his grip to keep her hips from bucking upwards. He focused all of his attention on the sensitive nub, kissing around it with hot, teasing touches before sliding down to her slit to lick a line from there back to her clit. The medic writhed in blissfully agony, her entire body trembling, unsure whether she wanted him to stop, or continue.

Gaara gave her no choice.

The redhead circled his lips around the nub, then took a slow draw, making the pink-haired woman cry out. Before she could even regain her senses, the Sand shinobi released her and crawled back up her body, tight fishnet shirt scraping along her stomach and breasts. He kissed her relentlessly, then, his hands sliding all along her body in a furious passion. His touches were no longer light or feathery, but were now performed with a fiery precision - a heat and anger that spoke volumes more than any soft groans ever could.

Sakura didn't realize at first that he had released her, but when she moved her hands downward to bury them in his hair, and felt no restraints preventing her from doing so, she nearly cried out in relief. Her fingers brushed and smoothed along his blood red locks, mussing up the already messy hair, then fixing it back again. His lips devoured her, teeth biting into her lower lip so hard he drew blood. He liked the odd tangy taste of it, though, and when he licked it slowly off of Sakura's mouth, he found he rather enjoyed the mixture of coppery tang and the medic's own clean, crisp taste. He pushed closer, grabbing her naked hips and hoisting them up against his clothed erection, grinding down into her in a blatant show of dominant arousal.

She would feel him, dammit. Feel just how desperately weak she made him.

The low growl started up again, only this time it sounded darker - more demonic... more needy.

"Is this what you want?" he questioned, rubbing their pelvises together slowly, his own aching need growing as he thrust closer towards her openly wet heat.

"Y-yes," she whispered, blushing brightly at this new, more verbal side of him. Her hands wandered from his hair, down his unmarred back, and rested on the waistband of his solid black trousers. The fishnet still scraped along her skin, her fingers, but she found the sensation to be quite thrilling.

Having sex with clothes on.

True, she was naked, and once she ripped Gaara's pants to shreds (payback for her blouse from earlier), he would only be scantily clad in that fishnet undershirt, but it was the thought that count.

Quickly, she pushed Gaara's pants off of him, revealing nothing but a (surprise, surprise) black pair of boxers. The redhead's thrusts only paused for a brief moment as she rid him of his trousers, but started up again once there was even less clothing between them. Sakura smoothed her hands along his hips, closing her eyes as his body guided her hands in a motion she would be indulging in soon enough. His legs were strong, and his back was surprisingly muscled, though in a lean sense. She supposed it was a result of carrying around a giant gourd filled with sand at all times of the day, though the fact that he was a shinobi might have had something to do with that as well. Still, there was a certain litheness to his slightly-bigger frame that she found wholly irresistible.

His actions slowed as he began a gentle grinding motion, dark jade eyes staring down at her with an inescapable intensity. It made Sakura's breath catch in her throat - made her body ache all over, begging for his touch. He kissed her again, this time with far less aggression, letting his lips linger over the wound he had left earlier. His hands came up to cup her head as he supported his weight on his elbows. Leaning in, the redhead trailed a line of fluttering kisses along her jaw. He paused, then leaned up to brush his lips along her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, before settling his mouth along her pulse point and sucking lightly on the skin he found there.

Sakura's breath hitched in her throat, though she never paused the kneading motion she had began on his hips. Her fingers trailed along his lower stomach, his thighs, brushing along his erection every now and then, but never with enough pressure to completely satisfy. He stirred, the motion of his hips accelerating just a bit in silent desperation, asking for the medic to touch him.

She obliged (Despite Gaara's own nature, Sakura wasn't nearly as cruel... on most days.) and reached down between them to slide a hesitant hand down the front of his boxers. He was hard, and hot, and Sakura worried her lower lip between her teeth as she contemplated just how to make him feel good. She tugged lightly on his arousal, rubbing her thumb along the tip before smoothing her palm along the base, and was surprised to find Gaara's pace quickening with her own. He breathed out slowly, ruffling her pink locks, and buried his head further into the crook of her neck.


The word was so light, she might have missed it had his mouth not been so close to her ear.

Pleased with this response, the kunoichi doubled her efforts, squeezing the length of him as she pumped her hand up and down in a rhythmic manner. Gaara shuddered, his entire body trembling with the effort of not ripping off the remaining piece of fabric separating the two, and pounding her viciously into the bed. It was a difficult feat to accomplish, but he quelled his sexual urges on a shaky sigh. Sakura's small, warm hands felt so damn good running all along his arousal, and he was having a hard time keeping his head on straight.

The pink-haired woman could see the difficulty he was having in reigning in his control. She paused her movements for a moment, simply watching as his black-rimmed eyes closed in a mix between frustration and ecstasy.

Sakura wanted to break his composure.

Now that she was free from his sand-cuffs, the medic could move without the worry of restraint. She slid her hand from his boxers, smiling at the small sound of protest Gaara made in the back of his throat, then patted his head once more before sliding down his body from beneath him.

Gaara blinked once, twice, then glanced downwards where Sakura's pink head was now settled between his legs. He lifted up slightly, watching with an almost detached sort of fascination as she slid his boxers the rest of the way down, and took his aching member into her-

"Oh, God," he moaned, bucking downward as that delicious heat suddenly enveloped the head of his arousal.

Sakura hummed slightly, to keep herself from laughing. It was surprising to hear Gaara react so verbally, but it was a moment she would cherish (and rub in his face) at a later date. She sucked on the tip for a moment, contemplating the taste of it, before leaning up to take in more. The redhead's hips pistoned downwards sporadically, pressing the back of her head further into the mattress below, but she didn't mind too much. It was odd, really. It felt like she was dominating him, even as it was blatantly obvious that he was dominating her. She kind of liked it, to be honest.

Gaara shuddered, letting out another soft moan, mixed with the low growl rumbling inside his chest. All he wanted to do at that moment was grab both sides of Sakura's head and face fuck her. The almost innocent motion of her lips against his aching length was simply too much to stand. She drew lightly on the tip, fisting what she couldn't fit into her mouth with her hand, not quite oblivious towards Gaara's plight.

He had made her suffer through the same not twenty minutes ago!

Sakura only had a chance to slide her tongue along the slit at the tip for a brief moment before Gaara snarled viciously and dragged her upwards so she was facing him again. He glared down at her for half a second before forcibly kissing her, tasting himself on her tongue, and sharing her own taste with her. His lips dominated her own, kissing her with bruising intensity, but he didn't seem to care. Not that Sakura minded, either. The fierceness only seemed to arouse her more - make her feel like she was needed.

He began that slow thrusting motion again, only this time there was nothing separating their bare flesh. Sakura sighed softly, her emerald eyes sliding shut at the darkly satisfying sensation. It wasn't enough.

"Gaara," she whimpered softly. "Please."

He was deaf to her pleas.

"Gaar- ah... Mm..."

"What do you want?" he whispered hotly against her lips.

Oh, no way in hell was he going to make her say it!

Slowly, achingly slowly, he pressed the tip of his erection against her entrance, leaning in for half a moment before pulling out a breath later; never giving her that feeling of fullness that she longed for. He repeated this over and over until the medic was squirming beneath him, lifting her hips to try and get him to enter her. Granted, the motion was entirely too enticing, but the redhead was very good at control.

"Sakura, what do you want," he repeated, his voice lowering a notch, thick with lust.

"I want... I-I want..."

Oh fuck, oh fuck!

"I-I want you!"

It was exactly what he wanted to hear.

With a soft sigh, Gaara thrust forward all the way, burying himself to the hilt in Sakura's warm heat. She writhed beneath him, spreading her legs to better accommodate his aching length. He paused for a long while, letting her grow accustomed to his size, then started a slow in-out motion when he felt she was ready.

He filled her up completely, and it would have felt odd, or awkward, had Sakura not been distracted by the utter pleasure of the act. Something base within her wanted this - longed for the friction of two bare bodies rubbing and biting and grinding against one another.

His lips found hers again, and moved slowly along her mouth. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth, sliding his tongue along the skin, then pushed closer, asking for entrance. She granted it instantly, relenting her hold on that last shred of dominance she still had. When Gaara was like this, sometimes submitting was the best option.

She moaned softly into his mouth, willing him to move faster. He sensed this, and picked up his pace, thrusting into her tight heat at a more steady rhythm. In, out. In, out. The feeling was simply mesmerizing. Desire, in its most base form.

"Ohh..." she sighed at the same moment he let out a long, shuddering breath. They were connected together in body, in pleasure, in soul.

"More," she whimpered, and Gaara appeased her by increasing the force of his thrusts. His hands wrapped around her hips, dragging her down towards him for every time he thrust up. Both parties moaned at the contact.

The medic began to buck beneath him again, timing her movements to rise up against him every time he pushed down. Her legs circled his body, dragging her closer to him, burying his length deeper into her wet heat. They continued on in this blissful state for what felt like a small eternity - Sakura itching for him to come closer, and Gaara moving to fulfill that need.

Suddenly, without a word, the redhead's hands shifted from her hips up to her shoulders, pulling her towards him as he leaned back. The kunoichi 'eeped' at the sudden shift of positions, her legs sliding out to support her as she straddled Gaara's length.

"Ride me," he intoned in a firm voice, hands rising once again to circle around her hips.

Shocked, Sakura could only stare down at him for several moments, unsure that she had heard right. Rapidly losing his patience with the woman, Gaara thrust upwards while pulling her hips down, entering her on a deeper level of penetration than before. Sakura gasped, then shuddered at the intense feeling. Without another word, she lifted up until only the tip of his head remained, then dropped back down, the slap of flesh against flesh ringing in the room.

"G-God!" she cried out, mouth hanging open as that sweet spot within her was hit dead on.

Smirking, Gaara was sorely tempted to answer, 'Yes?', but decided against it (He would rather avoid the beating she would no doubt give him for that one, thank you very much.).

She did it again - rising until he just barely remained inside of her, then dropped down again with a mutual cry from both. He shuddered, thrusting slowly into her, a dark contrast to her own frantic movements. The rhythm was distorted, broken, yet the flow of their lovemaking was never completely destroyed. It was like two opposites that fit snugly together - two mismatched pieces of a puzzle that just happened snap in place precisely. It shouldn't have worked, but it did.

"Nnh..." Gaara moaned as she settled into his lap and began a lazy grinding motion. Her hips made deep, slow circles as he was fully sheathed inside of her, drawing out their pleasure with a sort of morbid delight.

Neither one could hold out much longer.

The redhead gripped her hips again, fingers digging harshly into her pliant flesh, then forcibly lifted her off of him and dropped her back down. She whimpered softly as flesh hit flesh, but he paid her no mind, repeating the motion over and over until she was driven to a sexual frenzy by his actions.

"G-Gaara... Mm... I-I... oh-"

He surged forward, reversing their positions in an instant. His hands gripped her knees and hoisted her legs over his shoulders, thrusting deep into her open heat. He was frantic, the motion of his hips faltering every few moments, and yet he was determined to force her to release before he stumbled off the edge as well.

"Mm... Gaar-ohh..."

In, out. In, out.



"Yes! Oh, God, yes..."

Faster, deeper.


Her slick walls spasmed around him, clenching onto his length to draw his own release from his aching body. Gaara followed along that blissful edge, tumbling down right behind her. With a deep, shuddering growl, the redhead released inside of her, pumping his arousal in and out, filling Sakura with every last drop of the evidence of his lust. He stayed inside of her, reveling in the small offhand spasms of her body, pistoning his hips back and forth a few more times before pulling out. He rolled off of her, then, and stretched out beside her on the bed, one hand absently mussing her hair, the other stroking circles around her breasts.

Light emerald eyes locked onto dark jade. A light blush dusted across Sakura's features as Gaara leaned in to kiss the side of her mouth in a purely tender gesture.

"Was that so bad?" he teased lightly, settling his head against her shoulder.

Confused, the medic merely shook her head, a small smile fluttering along her lips as she leaned down to kiss Gaara's forehead.

... And tasted that underlying hint of sand.

Ino's mocking voice came back to her, then, 'Got sand in your pants?'

She had forgotten to make him take off his sand armor. By the smirk on Gaara's features, he knew exactly what he had done, too.

Oh, fuck.

"You are such an ass, you know." She was too deflated to add too much vehemence behind her words.

Gaara simply shrugged, the motion making his shoulders brush along her side.

"You'll just have to try harder next time," he said softly, then ruffled the pink hair atop her head.

Next time.

Maybe the day wasn't a complete loss, after all.