Dislcaimer: I don't own it.
Rating: M, I suppose because it gets a little sexy toward the end and, you know, just in case.
A/N: This popped into my head one day while I was staring at my husband's tattoos and thinking how sexy they were. This is completely fluffy Kiba/Ino, a little lemonish at the end but nothing graphic.
--Tattooed--
"I have a surprise for you," Ino said, running her hands over Kiba's face. His brows lifted and his head tilted, waiting for her to continue. She didn't, but she leaned forward and kissed him hard enough to shut down his mind for a few minutes.
When she left, he only watched her go, and she was sure to sway her hips in a way that she knew would stay in his mind. She left the house, and he remained, wondering what had gotten into that woman's head.
He decided she wanted him to ask, so he wouldn't, just to bother her. He sniffed, gathered his gear, and left to train. He slammed the door hard enough to let her know he was leaving.
Ino did hear the door slam, but smiled secretly. Her job was easy…she had gardening to do. She concentrated on turning the soil, wetting it, planting and pressing the plants firmly into the ground.
She'd chosen some red flowers; always made sure there was red in the flower garden. Her mouth was turned up…she'd been hiding something from her lover all day. He thought she was burning to get him to ask. Really, she was burning for him.
Sweat ran down her back, a glance at the sun told her it was in the afternoon. Kiba would be back soon, frustrated with the game she'd set up before he left.
Kiba did return, as frustrated as she thought, and watched her carefully plant the flowers. His teammates had teased, pestered, laughed at his distraction all day.
Her shirt showed part of her back, and the knobs of her spine ran straight to the rounded, tight bottom. Her stream of white-gold hair trailed in the breeze. Her face was shaded under a straw hat. The graceful arch of body and limb drew him in, tangled him up.
He breathed deeply, finding her comforting, arousing scent amidst the flower, cut grass, wood, and side-scents. He knew he would have to go to her; that was another game. But he stayed where he was, watched and desired her.
Still, she kept her hands in the soil. Ino was waiting for his trigger to pull, patiently plotting her flowers like she'd plotted ideas in his head. She was a delicacy for him; his nose, his mouth, his body, his mind. And she knew he couldn't resist.
He moved forward, seemingly unaware that he'd done so, was already lost in the things he wanted to do with her.
When his hand wrapped around her wrist, she dropped her trowel, tore off the straw hat. Together, wordlessly, they went into the house, slid open the doors to the bedroom.
It was only a few minutes before he slipped inside her, pumping and thrusting slickly, smoothly. A single corner of her mouth lifted; it chimed inside his head that she was hiding something. He withdrew, kneeling between her legs.
She was all innocence and femininity, propping up on her elbows.
"What's the matter?"
His brow crinkled, causing her to laugh because she'd won her little game. He looked at the half-open door as though he wanted to leave, but he turned his gaze back to her. His shoulders slumped, and a drip of sweat ran over his chest.
He sounded like a pouting child when he spoke.
"What's the surprise?" he asked finally. She delightedly laughed again and rolled over, showing her peach-pale skin.
In the small of her back, two red, triangular tattoos nestled on each side of her spine. They matched his tribal marks perfectly.
She knew she'd pleased him when he drew her up on her knees and pounded her from behind, hard, fast, loud. He shut her mind down as she screamed his name; his shut down again shortly after, tan fingers brushing the tattoos.
End.