InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Wet Silk ❯ Wet Silk ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: InuYasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and I make no $ from this story.

 

Wet Silk

 

Miroku sat crossed legged on the floor, and watched Sango unwrap the gift he had given her. He smiled at her gasp of pleasure as she pulled out the blue, silk kimono. Biting her lip, her hands traveled slowly over the soft, embroidered fabric. The way she touched it had him mesmerized, and he was filled with a warm, buzzing sensation.

 

“Where did you get this?” Sango said in a hushed tone. “It must have cost a fortune…”

 

“On one of our lasts jobs, InuYasha and I worked for a rich merchant,” Miroku replied. “When it was time to get paid, I noticed this silk and had to have it - for you.”

 

A smile blossomed on Sangos face, soft and sweet like birdsong in the morning. She raised the kimono to her cheek and closed her eyes in delight. Her actions were making Miroku's heart beat faster, and he licked his lips.

 

“And how did you get the kimono made without my knowledge?” Sango continued.

 

“I know who can be trusted in the village, both to make it and keep their mouths shut,” Miroku said with a smile. “Will you try it on for me?”

 

Nodding, Sango stood up and released the ties on her yukata. The clothing slid to the floor, and she gracefully stepped out of it. That was it, Miroku was aroused in an instant. He swallowed hard and then took a deep breath. It brought back a measure of self control.

 

Reverently Sango put her arms in the sleeves, and the color of the fabric made the pale flame of her curvy body even more luscious to Miroku. She looked up and quirked an eyebrow at him, a mischievous look dancing on her full lips.

 

“Do you approve husband?” Sango purred. “Have you felt the softness of this silk yet?”

 

“There is another silk I long to feel,” Miroku said, no longer wanting to keep his desire at bay. “And there is not a finer silk in the world to me.”

 

In a swift motion Miroku stood up and crossed the few steps between him and his wife. As she looked up into his face, Miroku slid his hand down her firm tummy, his fingers seeking. She rose up on her toes as he began to enter her, and she closed her eyes in pleasure as he gently slid his fingers deep inside.

 

“The wet silk of you, my Sango, is what I desire.” Miroku said softly.

 

The kimono fell off Sango into a puddle on the floor. She reached up and pulled his face to hers to kiss him with raw need, as his fingers worked their sensual magic. Picking her up, Miroku carried her to the sleeping area, the present forgotten - but the gift it gave only beginning…..