Romancing the Kazekage- A Gaara Love Story

The Princess and the Kazekage

Sweeping his hand over her delicate, glowing skin, the Kazekage paused for a moment and took in the sight of the princess as lust consumed her soul. Propped up on her elbows, naked against silk sheets, gripping them tightly as her toes curled up and she shivered in anticipation; Princess Taki had forgotten her royal upbringing entirely, it seemed. He barely touched her, but to a virgin his skilled hand had the same effect as a stone being thrown into still water; ripples, echoes of the touch, shudders for more. It amazed him, how different she was to his previous lover.

Ai was more curvaceous than Taki, her breasts spilled out of her brassiere at just the sight of Gaara. Taki's breasts were smaller, perkier and, to his delight, the skin turned much pinker much quicker when he handled her a little roughly. The courtesan had also been completely hairless on her body but Taki's womanhood was not bare; it had surprised him a little. He had never thought about women's bodies before and had not anticipated so many differences between merely two of them. Her skin was different; Ai had a silvery, moonlike glow like a crescent moon in a starry sky, but Taki was warm and golden like the reflection of the sun on a warm ocean.

Even the noises the two women made were entirely different. Ai's moans were soft, teasing, pushing him to work harder and earn those sultry, seductive moans she knew he loved. Taki did not possess skill nor art in her performance but...that is exactly what made her so seductive. She was unrehearsed. Her vulnerability was there in the high pitched squeals of surprised delight she let escape her mouth.

Gaara observed her mouth, as he dipped a finger inside it and watched her as she so deliciously gasped at his rough actions. Her mouth was watering for him, opening in anticipation of what he had to offer. The Kazekage watched her with a look of genuine intrigue as he stood shirtless by his bed. Taking his finger out of her mouth he smiled; now that Gaara had known sex, he felt much more in control, much more aware of each move he was making. He made her look at him by bending down and placing a moistened kiss on her breast. The princess threw her head back in ecstasy; still balancing on her elbows, Taki shuddered as the man of her dreams began to work his tongue in delicate flicks against her nipples.

"Ah!" A gasp was caught in her throat as, unknown to her, Gaara's moistened fingertip ran along the inside of her thigh.

"Breathe," Gaara murmured as he kissed her neck. "There's a rhythm to this magic," he whispered before sitting down beside her. "Show me your rhythm and, in time, I will show you mine." Taki nodded in earnest, her beautiful grey eyes sparkling with admiration for his skill. "Relax," Taki glanced up at Gaara and, as he pushed her gently on the shoulder to lay down, she could not help but notice the slight malice behind his smirk. There was something sinister in his smile while his eyes remained entirely loving.

"Ah!" Taki gasped again as Gaara's hand began caressing her womanhood gently.

"Breathe." It was not a suggestion, but a command. Taki felt so unsure of herself; she could feel herself losing her mind, her senses for this man but at the same time her inhibitions were too strong, her need to understand that sinister smirk was overbearing.

With a deep breath, the princess tried to relax. The rhythm Gaara spoke of became more pronounced. Her breathing soon felt in time with her heartbeat, the shivers up and down her legs joined them, the bursts of what felt like fire between her legs all began to sway and beat and pulse and tingle in rhythm.

"Good girl," the Kazekage complimented her softly. There was something about this phrase that Taki enjoyed, she enjoyed it so much, in fact, that the feeling of Gaara's fingers began to feel far away as the sensations running throughout her womanhood became more intense. Her hands no longer gripped the bedsheets but Gaara's chest, clawing at him, demanding he release her from this agony of waiting and wanting to-