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He swallowed thickly. This was so wrong on so many levels, that there wasn't even a shred of amusement within the situation. It was abhorrent, revolting, sinful, yet it made his toes curl in pleasure. The way her hips swayed in time to the song, rocking back and forth, her stomach muscles contracting as she moved. He couldn't pry his eyes off her. She was stunning, her hands running up her sides and moving to cup her breasts seductively. He desperately found himself wishing that she wasn't wearing any clothes, but alas, he was far from lucky. Instead, his eyes roamed over her body hungrily as he shifted in his seat. How he was cursing these bindings right now. It would be fun, she told him, it would be hot, she assured him. She wanted him sitting there, unable to do anything as she turned her body, exposing the flesh of her bottom through a thong that barely concealed anything. It was a deep red, which complimented her tanned skin wonderfully, and he swallowed again, acutely aware of how tight his pants were. It was beginning to hurt, but Gaara had a distinct feeling that she wasn't going to give him what he wanted any time soon. Fuck her for her cruel ideas, and fuck him for loving them.

With meticulous fingers, the shirt hiding her upper form is tugged off her head, and he's now watching her back, a grin forming at his lips when he spies the many marks that he's left upon soft skin. They were an angry purple, with hints of blue, and a constant reminder that she was his. His own flesh bore similar marks, but instead of purple hues, they were an angry red from where her nails raked down his back in encouragement for his rough behaviour. She loved the pain, and she loved it when he was the one who inflicted it upon her. If he was willing to be egotistical (which he certainly was), she needed his touch, as the youngest brother found his sister in his room almost nightly. She all but threw herself at him, her lips smashing against his, teeth clanging together, and tongues tangling heatedly in a battle for dominance that they both knew he was going to win. She tried anyways and he wouldn't want it any other way.

Taut, rosy peaks of flesh stole his attention when she turned, and he let out an audible groan and squeezed his eyes shut. She was doing this on purpose, and he tugged halfheartedly at his restraints. They weren't going to come off any time soon at all, she made that clear with the amusement in her body language. Her hips rolled again, and he was reminded of just how she looked when those hips were rolling on top of him. Her head would be thrown back, mouth open as she moaned sweetly, the friction between her legs nigh unbearable. Her tits would bounce, and her hands would be placed taut against his chest. In that moment, she used him to get what she wanted, and he had no problems with that whatsoever. The young male makes a nose of discomfort, his hips surging forwards swiftly when he feels the slight heat of her hand brush over his nether regions. She was being a dreadful tease, and Gaara bore his teeth. Temari only grinned at him, sitting down on his lap and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He was then faced with the burning heat that he longed to bury himself into, and for a second, he debated pleading with the sadistic woman. He didn't.

“Gaara.” He hears her purr, her tongue wet and hot against the shell of his ear. He shuddered, straining at the restraints again. He wanted them off. Temari moves so slowly as she trails kisses and nips down the side of his neck, puckering the pale skin intentionally. Her affections were timed with the bass of the song, and he found himself in awe that she was able to captivate him so easily. No one else had ever managed to, and he made a small noise of delight when her teeth sank roughly into his collarbone. The sharp pain reminded him of what was happening right now, and he bucked his hips, pushing his swollen member against her core to let her know just what she was doing to him. If he had his way, she'd be on her knees with her face pressed into the pillow, but alas, tonight, she was in control. While this was erotic beyond the seven hells, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger race through him. He much preferred it with a fistful of blonde locks in his hand, and her mouth wrapped around his length. He loved the wild look in her eyes as she took him as deep as she could take him; the sheer determination further lit his own fiery passion.

A sharp hiss is drawn from him when her tongue smooths over the fresh bite mark, but he's further distracted by her hips pressing down roughly against him. He finds himself desperately wishing he wasn't wearing pants. Never before had clothes ever gotten in the way of him getting what he wanted, and his fingers curl into his palms, nails biting at the skin. If he wasn't careful, he would draw blood, but he didn't care. Temari wouldn't either.

“Let me touch you..” he whispers, voice cracking. Gaara found himself loathing how weak he sounded, and from the chuckle it brought out from his sister, he found himself with the knowledge that she wasn't going to allow him to touch her. Never again would restraints be used during their private time together, unless she was the one being roped down.

“No. I like you better this way.” she says cheekily. He scowls.

“Temari..” His voice has a warning tone to it now, but she pays no attention to it, as her hands trail down his chest and rest upon the hem of his pants. Teal eyes follow tanned skin, and they narrow when she stops. Being as crafty as she was, there was no way he would be able to untie the rope by himself. Instead of continuing to warn her, he lets out a gasp when the cool air meets the warmth of his shaft. The lack of restraining material felt wonderful, but it wasn't enough.

“Temari.” he growls.

She's mouthing the words to the song now, eyes alight with her enjoyment. He took a moment to listen, and cocked a brow at the irony of it. She had the oddest taste in music, but he wasn't exactly any better. While he preferred harder tunes, his sister enjoyed indie rock with apparently rather sensual and frustrating meanings that could be applied to her own life.

He's drawn out of his thoughts in what had to be the best way possible, as his sister had taken advantage of his spacious moment and sat herself fully down on his lap. Her nails were digging into clothed shoulders, and their eyes connected. Gaara sat there flabbergasted as she smirked at him, her tongue running over lips of which were swollen from their wandering. It isn't long before the sound her panting fills the room, and he's biting at his own lips, tugging at the rope binding him in place. It was almost too much. There he was, forced into submission while she had her less than appropriate way with him. Judging from her movements picking up, along with the muscles tensing around him, she wasn't going to last long. A sharp buck of his hips has her spiraling over the edge. He was close himself, but the second she had come down from her high, she's standing up and moving her body away from his. Had the male thought he was stunned before by her boldness, than he had no idea what he was feeling now.

Mouth hanging open slightly, he watched her dress herself. Her hair was fixed, the music was turned off, and she's brushing off her pants in a mocking manner.

“What..?” he forces out, length still throbbing. She wasn't really..

“I'll see you at dinner.” she says cheerfully, before leaving his room, a bounce in her step. “Don't get any wise ideas little brother, this was payback for eating my leftovers.”

It was a bit extreme.. But then again, he loved the extremities his sister displayed. Now.. How to get out of here, and more importantly, how to extract his own revenge...