Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Odalisque ❯ Chapter 28 ( Chapter 28 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any Bleach affiliates.

 

 

 

 

Odalisque

 

Chapter 28

 

Rukia stared miserably down at the limp salad she was supposed to be consuming. God knows she had paid six bucks for the damn thing. But really, the least they could do was make it appetizing. Instead the piece of shit sitting before her looked like something a random animal had regurgitated and then pissed on. She pushed it away from her and angrily unscrewed the top of her bottled water.

 

Momo sat across from her, a blank stare resting on her clean face; she was chewing on her salad with slow, deliberate, movements and keeping her eyes pinned on Rukia as said woman fiddled with everything in front of her.

 

Ten whole minutes of utter silence passed between them before Momo sighed, set her fork down on the table, laced her fingers together, and propped them under her chin.

 

“Rukia,” she said, her voice holding the quality and tenderness of a mother while still maintaining the exasperation of a teenager, “What the hell is the matter with you?”

 

“I don't know what you mean,” Rukia mumbled, knowing full well that she was lying.

 

Momo gaped at her and then brought her brows together angrily. “You've barely touched your food, you're abnormally quiet, you look like death, and you're… you're… god damn it, you're just not you and you haven't been for the past three days.”

 

Rukia's left hand came to her forehead and she pressed it there as hard as she could. She brought her elbow up to the table and rested against it.

 

She was trying hard to figure out a way to say this without sounding like a child… or a lovesick spinster. She closed her liquid sapphire eyes and sighed. She didn't want to say it at all, actually. She didn't want to tell Momo what was going on right now between her and—and—him. She didn't want to come off sounding like some whiney bitch wondering what the hell she had done wrong. She already knew what she had done wrong.

 

Not that you did anything wrong either, Rukia's mind shot back viciously. He's the one acting like the whiney bitch!

 

“Rukia.”

 

She raised her head to Momo and swallowed hard. The concern was written on her friends' face so plainly. Even if she didn't want to say anything she knew that she couldn't let Momo go on without explaining things to her.

 

“Ichigo isn't speaking to me,” she said, her voice quiet and sullen. The remnants of the anger she had felt towards him in his first two days of silence slowly fizzled underneath the surface of her body. She exhaled slowly and brushed a piece of black hair back from her face. “He hasn't been since last Friday.”

 

“It's Wednesday now.” Momo pointed out while tapping her finger to her chin. “Damn, five days?” Her eyes narrowed a bit and she tilted her head to the side, “Rukia… what happened?”

 

She rolled her eyes and took another sip of her water before leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “So it's my fault? Geez Momo, I thought at least you'd listen first.” She turned her head stubbornly to the side and huffed angrily.

 

“What have you been smoking?” Momo demanded, slight anger coating the edges of her voice, “I asked you to tell me what happened, and I didn't say that you were to blame. Goddamn woman, get your ears checked.”

 

A heated blush ran up Rukia's neck and cheeks as she averted her eyes to the ground. “Oh… sorry.”

 

“Damn woman,” Momo muttered, “If this is what sex deprivation does to you then I guess I can understand nearly the entirety of our friendship.”

 

Rukia's head shot up and her mouth dropped, “What did you say?”

 

“Tell me,” Momo demanded, ignoring Rukia's question completely, “What happened between you two?”

Rukia glared at her friend and made a mental note not to forget the friendship comment before taking in a deep breath and growling, “I went out with Renji on Friday night.”

 

Momo flinched but kept her mouth shut.

 

“We ate out at a little bistro, we talked about stuff, and we had fun… I thought it was all going great. I mean, I hadn't really talked to Renji in ages. We practically grew up together but it seemed like once I hit college we barely found time for one another.” Rukia sighed and passed a hand over her face. She felt tired all of a sudden. She felt like she could go home and sleep for an entire day.

 

“But when I got to the theater…” Rukia mumbled softly, her fingers toying with their counterparts on her lap, “Ichigo was there.”

 

Momo's eyes widened exponentially, “Oh snap.”

 

Rukia rolled her eyes at the teenage expression and continued, “He was there. He and Renji had some sort of testosterone mind-challenge when they shook hands.”

 

“As to be expected,” Momo interjected reasonably, “After all, just look who they're fighting over.”

 

“No one was fighting over me,” Rukia harshly snapped, “They're not that stupid.”

 

One of Momo's eyebrows rose and she rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Go on.”

 

Rukia settled further back into her chair and grunted out the rest of her sentence. “Ichigo followed us into the theater and sat right behind Renji.”

 

A large quantity of air was sucked into Momo's lungs and Rukia pointedly stared away. “He kept on kicking Renji's seat throughout the entire movie. It took me forty five minutes before I actually dragged him outside.”

 

“Then what happened?” Momo demanded, her voice slightly breathless and her fingers raised her to plump lips.

 

Rukia sighed, “I took him outside and we shouted at each other.” Rukia winced when she recalled the event. “He started to ask me why I was out with Renji and why, if it wasn't just an outing between friends, weren't you there. I told him it wasn't any of his business and he just…” she pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and groaned. “He kissed me… hard. But I bit him and pushed him away. I told him to go away right then or else I'd never forgive him.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

“No,” Rukia shot back, “Not `ouch.' Never `ouch.' I didn't do anything but get him to go away. He was the one who was fucking up our whole arrangement by acting like an unbelievable dick.”

 

“Or an overprotective boyfriend.” Momo pointed out curtly.

 

“No!” Rukia snarled, her fingers curling into fists, “Not like that.”

 

“But he hasn't spoken to you since, has he now?” Momo demanded, “So he's pissed. He's jealous, Rukia, straight out, real-life, absolutely jealous.”

 

“He's not,” Rukia hissed back, slamming her open palm down on the table. Momo didn't so much as jump at the sound. She simply crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her best friend. Rukia gritted her teeth together and narrowed her eyes, “That would be a complete and utter violation of the rules we set up.”

 

“Aren't rules meant to be broken?” Momo pointed out, her voice growing harsher by the second.

 

“Momo!” Rukia cried, “You're missing the point!” She jabbed her finger at her chest and then pointed it dramatically up to the ceiling where—a few floors above her—Ichigo was eating lunch. “This arrangement that we have is just supposed to be physical. Nothing more than that! You know what can happen when you put your heart out on the line!”

 

Momo's eyes darkened and she jerked her head up and down in one swift nod. “I do know, Rukia. I really do.” She narrowed her gaze and leaned slightly across the table. “I spent every year since I was twelve putting my heart out on the line. I've had it broken hundreds of times by guys who were jerks, pussies, sicko's, bastards, losers, womanizers, and sex buddies. You were there, you saw; you were the one who helped me up when I was stuffing my face with every flavor of ice cream under the planet.”

 

Rukia leaned back even more at Momo's outburst but her friend just leaned even further across the small table, narrowing the distance between them.

 

“But you know what, Rukia Kuchiki? I put my heart out on the line after trying thousands of times to find the right guy. I did it and I finally found Shiro. I finally got lucky.” Momo scoffed and sat back in her seat, an expression of disgust crossing her features. “You've had your heart broken once.” She put up her hand, extended her pointer finger, and snorted, “Once. Please; you think that makes you some kind of veteran? Kaien Shiba made you love him and it turned out he was married. Big whoop. It's not like you ever actually screwed the guy. That was just some middle school flirtation. You don't know what it's like you put your heart out on the line. One little cry-fest and you think that you've seen the worst? Honey, you haven't even glazed over the tip of the goddamn ice berg.”

 

She shook her head and suddenly stood. Momo was gathering all of her trash—her half-eaten salad, her plastic utensils, and her bottled water—and jerked them away from the table.

 

“You're just so fucking terrified that you actually might feel something for Ichigo Kurosaki that you're trying to push this all on him. So it's his fault. Come on Rukia; use your goddamn brain for once.”

 

That said, Momo swiftly turned away from the table and walked with sure and confident steps towards the exit. She viciously threw her trash into the receptacle and continued on her way. The door made angry noises when she slammed it open and passed through.

 

Rukia was left sitting in her seat.

 

*~*~*

 

Her body was frozen stiff. She had to fight to shove one leg in front of the other. Her body was numb. Her lips were parted slightly and her eyes were glazed. Everything else about her seemed to slow down.

 

But her mind was working at a thousand minutes a second.

 

“Kaien Shiba made you love him and it turned out he was married.”

 

He had been married. He hadn't told her that though. For an entire year he had taken her out, smiled at her, helped her in school, and kissed her waiting lips and he had been married.

 

“Big whoop.”

 

It had been big. Rukia had never been in love before. She had never known that her heart could pound so much in another person's presence or that someone could entice fire to rush over her skin with a single touch. She hadn't known what it was like to feel that kind of desire. Not until him. Not until Kaien.

 

“It's not like you ever actually screwed the guy.”

 

That was true at least. She never did sleep with him. She had wanted to; she had wanted to have him deep inside her, pushing and pulling until she almost cried in frantic bliss. She had wanted to run her hands down his back and kiss his chest and hold him tightly when it was over.

 

But he never let it get any further than kisses and strokes. He always made up excuses too: “We can't… I'm your student teacher… if anyone finds out… I'm four years older than you… not tonight… want to save you… romantic…”

 

She had accepted it too. Every word that came from him she drank in and cherished like it was the last bit of light from a dying star. She filled her head with reasons why he wanted to wait. He wanted to make it special. He wanted to find the time to show her how much he cared. He wanted to wait… so she waited.

 

She had waited for an entire semester of being completely and totally in love with him before that one disastrous day. He had been assisting the professor during a lab that had run overtime. They were working through lunch just to get the project done.

 

Suddenly, the door opened and in walked a woman with chestnut hair, gleaming eyes, perfect skin, and a curvaceous body. She strode up to Kaien, kissed him on the mouth, whispered something in his ear, and handed him a bagged lunch.

 

“That was just some middle school flirtation.”

 

It had not been a flirtation. Rukia knew it had been something so much more than that.

 

The minute his wife—she knew it had been his wife, she had seen the diamond on her hand, she had seen the look in her eyes—left Rukia finished the lab as quickly as she could and exited the building. The tears that she had been fighting back began to flow freely and she kept her head as far down as she could.

 

She only turned around when she felt a hand tugging hard on her arm.

 

“Rukia…” it was him, he was slightly out of breath from running to catch up with her. His hair was falling into his eyes and, if it had been thirty minutes ago, Rukia would have raised her hand and brushed the strands aside. But not now, not when her heart was shattering into a million pieces at the very sight of him.

 

“Please… I can explain.”

 

She wanted him to explain too. She wanted to hear the sweet poison spilling from his lips once again. She wanted him to speak to her like he always did. She wanted him to tell her that that woman meant nothing to him, that he loved her, and that he wanted to be with her.

 

She wanted all of it.

 

She jerked her arm out of his grip and took three steps back. “No… no. Get away from me.”

 

“Please Rukia,” he begged, “I know that I'm… I'm…” he sighed and ran a hand through the messy hair that she loved so much. “But Rukia… I've entrusted my heart to you.”

 

The books in Rukia's hands dropped to the ground as she raised her hands and clapped them over her ears.

 

“NO!” She shrieked, her voice reverberating into of the empty hallway. She desperately shook her head and bent into a crouch. He tried to come towards her but she ran. She ran as hard and as fast as she could. When she made it to her dorm she could barely breathe; the combination of tears and exertion nearly killed her.

 

She came to her dorm to find Momo reading at her desk. Her friend looked up, dropped her book, and immediately caught Rukia as she collapsed on the carpet.

 

Rukia's hollow hand reached out and grabbed the doorknob to her office. With a gentle twist it opened and she stepped inside.

 

Her body was numb as she relived the worst day of her entire life.

 

*~*~*

 

Ichigo was sitting at his desk when he heard Rukia come back into the office. He didn't so much as raise his head when she slowly shut the door and padded further inside.

 

His neck was stiff as he stared down at the file sitting on top of his desk. The numbers and letters in front of him looked like completely and utter gibberish. It didn't matter though. His jaw worked angrily against its counterpart as he fought not to say anything angry or condescending.

 

Five fucking days and he had not said a single word to her. Although, if he was to be fair, she hadn't said a single word to him either. It was kind of like some standoff between them.

 

The only real problem was that he actually wanted to talk to her.

 

Well, maybe talking wasn't what he wanted to do. Interrogating, perhaps, yelling, screaming, and maybe even a bit of growling… that's what he wanted to do in terms of communication.

 

His mind darkened and his eyes clouded when he thought of what questions he wanted her to answer. All of them—of course—having to deal with that bastard of a circus freak she had gone out with last Friday.

 

Ichigo felt his hands gripping his pen with unusual strength. If only he had convinced Rukia to stay home with him that night. Then she wouldn't have been all over town with that freak of a human being.

 

“I might even take Renji home with me and there's nothing you can do about it.”

 

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and practically burned a hole in the paper with how hotly he was staring.

 

Had she taken him home? Did they just talk or did they put their tongues to a few different uses? Had he fucked her like she liked it? Was he bigger than that bastard? Did she enjoy it as much? Did she call out his name or that fuckers? Did his cock bring her into an orgasm the likes of which Ichigo's cock could?

 

All these things he knew the answer to, of course, but he wanted her to tell him. He wanted to hear it from her mouth. He needed that.

 

But instead of asking he bit his lip and tried to focus on his paper. He could wait a few more days. He could be patient. He brought his eyes a fraction away from the paper and glared at the empty space in front of his desk. It wasn't like Rukia cared anyway. She was ignoring him just as much as he was ignoring her.

 

Not ignoring, he reminded himself irritably, more like forcibly abstaining from.

 

He continued to glare and swiped his head back to his file. He sure as hell wasn't going to be the one who broke first. He knew that sooner or later she'd come begging for him.

 

Like she did when we first made the deal. He thought sourly. She'll come to me first. But until then she'll just sit there… typing away at that damn computer and pretending like I don't—

 

Ichigo brought his head up and, for the first time since last Friday, looked over at Rukia's desk.

 

What he saw made his hands stop and his eyes widen.

 

Rukia was sitting in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her back was slouched a bit but her rigid posture remained intact. Her feet were lying limp on the floor and her head was tilted forward ever so slightly.

 

That, however, wasn't what made him… what was the word… nervous, perhaps? Yes, nervous. Nervous was alright. Anyway… it was her eyes. They were blank and staring at the top of her desk. She looked as though she was lost inside of her own mind. But that wasn't it either. On the rims of her eyelids were glistening streaks of wetness that shimmered in the fluorescent lighting of the room.

 

Holy… fucking… shit.

 

Was Rukia Kuchiki crying?

 

“Rukia?” Ichigo's voice was rusty, as though he hadn't used it in ages. It felt like he hadn't. He hadn't actually said her name since Friday when he had said all of those terrible things to her… and vice versa. He swallowed and forced that memory to go back down into his stomach. He couldn't think about this when Rukia was just sitting there looking as dead as a block of wood… not when she was crying.

 

“Rukia?” He said again, this time louder.

 

Her body jerked slightly and she raised her head a fraction. Her eyes blinked twice and out of the corner of each one a small stream of salty liquid fell down. They curved over her cheekbones and slid down under her chin. Ichigo watched as they merged together and—as one solitary tear drop—fell onto the folded fingers of her hands.

 

“Yes?” Her voice was just as rough. Her dead, lifeless, pained, eyes looked over at him and Ichigo had to shudder when he saw them. Her eyes were not supposed to be like that. Not Rukia. Not her eyes.

 

“Are you… alright?” He stuttered, feeling stupid for even asking the question. Of course she wasn't alright. He could see that plain as fucking day.

 

She didn't answer him though. Instead, her eyes became even more glazed and began to look past his head. Ichigo stared hard at her face and frowned even more as she heaved a small sigh and brought her hands up to her desk.

 

With slow, practiced, motions and while still looking behind his head, Rukia stood up from her chair.

 

“I think I'm going to go home.” She said; her voice was barely above a whisper.

 

The only thing that stopped Ichigo's eyes from bugging out of his head were the thin, glistening, lines streaking down her face.

 

“Wh—?”

 

He didn't even get to finish his word before she was sliding her things off of her desk and walking towards the office door. Her body moved slowly and deliberately as she carefully placed her feet one in front of the other.

 

Ichigo watched in speechless disbelief as Rukia Kuchiki walked out of the office in the middle of the day.

 

She shut the door quietly behind her and Ichigo gaped at the glaring openness that was left in the wake of her departure.

 

It took him several minutes before he was able to speak again.

 

“What… the hell?”

 

First, she had cried, then she had looked so dead, and now she was leaving in the middle of the day? In the middle of the week?

 

Ichigo's stomach twisted at the thought of those two shining tears as they fell down the sides of her face.

 

It only took him one torturous hour before he finally got up and followed her.

 

*~*~*

 

Ichigo walked slowly into the elevator and pressed the button that would take him to Rukia's floor. His lips pressed together as he waited patiently. The sounds of elevator music floated around him and he sighed softly in annoyance.

 

He closed his eyes and thought back to what he had seen today. Had Rukia actually been crying? It had looked like it. But then again, half of him believed that Rukia didn't possess the necessary ducts to actually produce tears. However, her face had been red and her eyes had been rimmed with the same color crimson. She had sounded so dead. She had even gone home early.

 

Something was not right and Ichigo wanted to know what it was.

 

Ichigo jabbed his shoe against the floor of the elevator and growled angrily. She just hadn't been herself. She had barely even reacted when he glared at her like he had been doing for the past couple of days.

 

Not that he didn't have reason to either. She knew damn well why he was angry with her. He ground his teeth together and pressed his eyelids against each other.

 

Renji Abarai.

 

A small snarl escaped his throat as the elevator doors opened. He strode through them quickly and began walking to the number of her apartment. He stepped in front of the door and rapped his knuckles against the wood three times. His body was tense as he waited for her to open the door.

 

From the inside he heard someone sigh, followed by a few choice mutterings. Silently, Ichigo moved to the side in order to escape the peephole just in case she wanted to deny him access.

 

Another growl sounded from inside as Rukia undid the locks one by one.

 

“Momo,” she said from the other side, her voice strained and thick, “If you've come here to apolo… oh. It's you.”

 

She stopped speaking and then turned her bland, lifeless, eyes on him.

 

Ichigo felt something drop into the inside of his stomach when he looked at her. So dead… so bland… he swallowed and narrowed his eyes at her. Where the hell was the fire he normally saw in her liquid sapphire eyes?

 

“May I come in?” He demanded, phrasing it as a question even though she knew it wasn't one.

 

“No.” She spat, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

Ichigo forced his way through and sent her stumbling back a few feet. “Ichigo!” She growled, her voice filled with exasperation, fatigue, and… and… something else he couldn't quite place…

 

Hopelessness?

 

“What do you want?” She asked, her hand reaching back to the door and shoving it shut. She did up the locks again and moved to stand in the middle of the room. She pressed her fingers into the bridge of her nose and rubbed softly. Ichigo watched her in silence.

 

“You've been ignoring me for the past five days,” she rasped, not looking up at him, “You embarrassed me in front of my friend, you've made me angrier than I have ever been in a long time, and you still have the nerve to show up here.” She raised her head and shook his twice. “What do you want?”

 

“I'll have you know,” Ichigo ground out, advancing on her slightly, “That I didn't come here to be railroaded into begging at your feet.”

 

“Then what did you come here for?” she hissed angrily.

 

“I came here to see what the hell upset you so much that you ran away from work like a scared little dog!” He growled, advancing on him until he was towering over her small form.

 

She reached out and slapped him hard on the face. His head turned and his cheek turned slightly red as she lowered her hand and swept softly passed him.

 

“Don't you dare talk to me like that,” she snarled, moving towards a small hallway near the back. “Not after that little stunt you pulled at the theater. No matter what you do Ichigo I will not forgive you for that. What's more I've had a horrible damn day and if you want to provoke me even further then go ahead, but I swear to God that if you do I will never see you again!”

 

She turned around to yell at him even more when he did something that surprised even him.

 

Ichigo pushed Rukia hard against the wall and a small sound of anger and confusion escaped from her throat. Her eyes slanted angrily as she jerked her body forward and attempted to move away from the cool plaster. Ichigo's form surged forward and trapped pushed against every inch of hers. A gasp escaped Rukia's mouth and she whimpered softly when she felt the hard ridge of his knee slither its way between her legs. Her hands came up to his shoulders and she grunted in slight panic.

 

“Ichigo!” She cried as she shoved against him, “What are you—? This isn't the time—!”

 

His head bent down and his teeth nipped hard at her pulse point. His teeth raked across the delicate skin and an unearthly intake of breath flew through Rukia's throat. Her hands were still placed on his shoulders but her once tight grip was now lax and her sharp nails were now digging into him not to hurt him, but to draw him closer. Ichigo increased the amount of force of his body against her and drove her even further into the wall.

 

Half of him didn't know what he was doing. Okay, so all of him didn't know what he was doing. Hell, Rukia had just slapped him, yelled at him, and accused him and here he was… kissing her neck and touching her skin.

 

Maybe it was because he hadn't touched her—or much less spoken to her—in five days. Maybe he wanted to show her that he was the only one who could turn anger into passion instantaneously. Maybe he wanted her to know that, no matter how angry she was, she'd always forgive him.

 

Maybe… maybe this was the only way he really knew how to talk to her. To communicate his feelings of worry and nervousness. Maybe he needed to do this because… because it was the only way he knew how he could help her.

 

Then again, maybe he was just making excuses.

 

His lips made hot circles around her neck and his teeth scraped along the flesh as Rukia tilted her head to the side and groaned fitfully. He could feel her nipples prickling through her thin nightshirt and he could feel the increasing warmth of her sex against his upper thigh. A small growl came from his throat and he switched his oral attentions to the other side of her neck. Rukia's hands, which had been pushing against him only moments ago, were now wrapped around his shoulders, inching their way to the back of his neck.

 

His hands were now on her hips. They gently smoothed over the skin on the tops of her thighs and the slid over the silky flesh under her knee. Rukia moaned softly and curled her arms completely around his neck. Her head tilted to the side as she gave him free reign over what was to be done to her.

 

His face remained intent as his fingers began to slide around her body in a rhythmic motion. He gently pushed his fingers down to the skin directly below her knee, only to bring in back up in a slowly, torturous manner, until it was pushed underneath the flimsy fabric of her night shorts. The sounds she was making were music to his ears. Ichigo hummed contentedly into her neck as his fingers continued their busy work. Whenever they would travel to the edge of her knee a small, irritated, mewl would escape her throat, however, whenever his wandering hands made their way to the tops of her thighs, her voice would become breathless and she would begin to pant harder.

 

Ichigo grinned to himself at the thought of his newfound means of torture. Gently and as slowly as he could with his growing arousal, Ichigo pushed his entire hand up between the space of her tiny shorts and her skin. She gasped and groaned when his calloused fingertips met the gentle dip at the connection of her legs and hips. He bit down hard on her neck as his thumb softly caressed the warm skin. He slowly slid his other fingers around to cup the sides of her hips. She whimpered softly as she felt his hot digits brush up against the tender flesh of her bottom. She pushed her head back into the wall as he kneaded her.

 

His name escaped her lips as she groaned. Ichigo closed his eyes against the sweet skin of her body and allowed himself to press even further into her. Rukia was crushed so tightly against the wall. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders and only a moment later she raised one of her legs so that she might hook it around his waist.

 

His body was tight and hot against hers and while she writhed acutely between his body and the wall, his hand still tortured the sweet skin above her legs. He finally moved his fingers up only a few inches more and found the hem of a dastardly scandalous pair of underwear. A low, primal, growl escaped his mouth as he rubbed the lace between his finger and his thumb, feeling the texture and imagining how snugly it fit against her skin.

 

His movements were liquid as he removed his hands from underneath her shorts. His body, which had been pressing so hard against hers, suddenly vanished, leaving in its wake a cold, empty spot. Rukia shivered at the loss of contact and groaned when she felt her hands suddenly slip away from his shoulders.

 

“Ichi—”

 

The second part of his name was uttered on a sucked in breath the likes of which would have burst Ichigo's own chest. He grinned when he saw the shivers that ran down Rukia's entire body when she realized where he was. Her head tilted back against the wall and she moaned, a preemptive response to the torture he would surely inflict upon her.

 

Slowly, as though he were unwrapping a long-awaited gift, Ichigo hooked his fingers into the waistband of her night shorts and began to pull them, ever so languidly, down her long, slim, legs.

 

Ichigo's breath was short and sporadic as he brought her clothing down to her knees. The elastic loosely held them around the dips of her legs as Ichigo brought his hands up to massage her thighs. His eyes became feral as his hands rubbed up and down the tight and curvaceous lines of her body. She moaned under him as his fingers roved her inner thighs, her knee caps, her hips, and her buttocks. Ichigo's attentive ministrations lasted for several minutes and during that time the smell of Rukia's dripping sex became even more potent, the ache of his bent legs became stronger, and the shaking of Rukia's firm legs became even more pronounced.

 

The trembling of Rukia's legs became so great that only moments later her shorts dropped the quick distance to her ankles and pooled limply at her feet. Ichigo clenched his jaw in order to contain himself as he drew in a deep breath and smelled the heady, thick, delicious scent of Rukia's inner folds. His eyes shone with hunger as he inclined his head upwards and took in the sight of her.

 

She was resting precariously against the wall, both of her arms were splayed at her sides, and her palms were flat on the walls, fingers extended. She kept tensing and relaxing the grip of her muscles, as if she was desperately trying to find some sort of purchase of the smoothness behind her. Her nipples were pronounced through the thin gauze of her shirt and the constant heaving of her chest left Ichigo with the intense desire to throw her on the floor and ravage her the way an animal would rut with its mate. The muscles in her stomach and chest would spasm every few minutes, sending vibrations ricocheting off into her arms and even more into her legs.

 

Ichigo looked down and ignored the painful throbbing inside of his pants and lurched forward. His face was immediately pressed into the crotch of her panties.

 

A sharp shriek echoed around the walls of Rukia's apartment and Ichigo groaned as he scent assaulted his senses once again. His brain short-circuited as he filled his nostrils with the heavenly heat and dampness of her essence. He snarled half in his throat and half in his mouth as he brought his tongue out to taste her against the lace of her panties. His searching and defiant tongue followed the seam of the lips underneath and hungrily sucked the material into his mouth. Over his tongue washed an astounding amount of perfumes and aromas. Her fragrance was poignant and threatened to drive him mad.

 

He felt her fingers in his hair the moment his mouth began to pull at the hem of her black lace underwear. Her panting had increased and the trembling in her legs had gotten even worse. His teeth tugged on the fabric even harder and he felt it give way under him. The slight tearing brought Rukia's head snapped down to him. He didn't look up but he could feel her gaze on the top of his head.

 

His animal instincts dug even further into his heart when he realized that she would be watching as he ate her alive.

 

A feral grin on his face, Ichigo peeled the sticky lace away from Rukia's dripping sex and brought it to his hand. Knowing that she was watching him, he pressed them against his face and inhaled sharply.

 

“Ichigo…” she breathed; Ichigo closed his eyes and drew in another breath. He was becoming drunk with the sensations of her. Christ! It was like a drug, overpowering in its own right and completely addictive.

 

Her name rushed through his lips as he tossed her undergarment aside and, this time, pressed his lips against her waiting wetness.

 

A long, low, sultry, moan escaped Rukia's mouth the moment Ichigo's lips ran over her labia. He tasted her slick sweetness against his tongue and immediately wanted more. His instincts were driving him, pushing him, and pulling him towards her. For tonight, he wanted to dominate her, completely and utterly. He wanted to have her rolling underneath him, crying out for him, begging him to stop when her body couldn't take anymore of the pleasure.

 

His eyes darkened as he recalled her night with Renji.

 

“I might even take Renji home with me and there's nothing you can do about it.”

 

He snarled into her scant midnight curls and pressed his mouth even tighter against her. He needed to show her, needed to teach her… he was the only one who could—or would—make her come with the intensity of an earthquake, make her flow like a tsunami, make her scream like a banshee, and make her moan like a whore.

 

He was the only one.

 

His hand reached up and he placed it underneath her knee. She let out a breathless yelp as he jerked her leg over his shoulder and then reached for the other. He pushed her legs over his shoulders and then steadied her when she jolted from her perch. Her hands thrashed back to his hair and she tugged mercilessly on the strands.

 

Ichigo's hands remained on her hips as he began his assault.

 

Rukia shrieked.

 

His tongue invaded her as ruthlessly as he could. He laved the insides of her being with care, as though he were a sculptor, taking time to finish a masterpiece. She pulled against his hair and shoved her head against the wall. Ichigo worried for a moment that she would hurt herself but he was too overwhelmed with her that he didn't think too much of it again.

 

His teeth moved upwards and he tugged on her clit until it was swollen and pink and raw from his ministrations. Rukia kept her hold on his hair as he then nipped at the puffy pink entrances to her tight sheath. Her mouth was open and panting and Ichigo could feel her stomach expanding and contracting with each erratic breath she took. Sweat ran down Ichigo's face and his pants constricted more and more until he was beyond the simple levels of discomfort. His body creaked as he held his position but he didn't dare move.

 

Rukia curled around his body as he growled against her. He could taste the oncoming essence of her orgasm and he thrust his tongue into her again. He wanted to taste her as she came on his tongue.

 

“Ichigo!” She screamed, her body convulsing angrily against him. She shook hard against him and jarred his head from one side to the next but still Ichigo didn't stop. He didn't stop tasting her or teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. He didn't stop scraping his teeth against her walls or pushing his tongue into her. He didn't stop. He couldn't.

 

He just couldn't.

 

He pushed himself into her even more. His mouth, which was covered in her wetness, seemed as dry as a desert. He groaned heavily in his throat as he made her writhe and scream above him. Her body was tilting, threatening to fall, heaving and heavy against him. His hands pressed against her hips to hold her there. He knew that if she fell he'd not be able to stop himself from ravishing her as roughly and as completely as he wanted to.

 

“Ichigo,” she panted, his name no more than a plea on her lips. Her voice was strained and her entire body was shaking against him and the wall.

 

He lost count of how many times he made her come. He didn't even know how long he had his mouth between her legs. He just kept going; he kept licking and teasing and biting until it was all he seemed to be able to do.

 

Only when the tightness inside of his pants became near unbearable to maintain did he rise from his kneeling position on the floor. His head slipped from between Rukia's shaking legs and her limbs fell from his shoulders.

 

Without provocation, her entire body slumped to the ground. Ichigo pulled back until he was sitting on his ass. The press of his tented pants was enough to make him scream for his own release. His dilated eyes were blinking wildly into the light. After so long a time of being buried in Rukia the light around him seemed unnaturally intense. His hand rose to his mouth and he slowly wiped away what he had not already licked. He felt drunk and dizzy and tipsy and… hungry.

 

His eyes made their way back to Rukia and found that she had not moved from her spot slumped against the wall. Her entire body was limp. Her eyes were glazed, half-open, and she was staring out into space, as if she no longer had the strength to look anywhere else. Her chest was heaving sporadically, as though she had no control over when her lungs drew in a breath. The lower half of her body—her legs, hips, and thighs—were splayed out on the floor without regard to how open she was. Her upper body was slanted against the wall, her arms boneless and pliant against the cold ground.

 

Ichigo moved swiftly from his sitting position on the floor until he was crouching above her. Her eyes didn't even flicker to him as he moved to stand over her prone body. His hands reached down to her and a sound escaped her throat. It was halfway between a moan and a groan and it made Ichigo's feral instincts become even sharper.

 

He pulled her limp body up and began to stride to the small hallway that led to her room. He had never been inside of her house before but he could tell which room she slept in. He didn't know if it was his racing heart, his heaving lungs, or the instinctual, primal, need that he was feeling that allowed him to take a deep breath and just know which room was hers. Her scent was heaviest there.

 

Taking her as gently as his body would allow, Ichigo pushed open the door to her room, strode inside, and took her to the bed. The moment her body hit the softness of her mattress her eyes jolted open and she began to look wildly around the room.

 

Ichigo knew she was watching him as he tore off his shirt—a few buttons scattering softly around the floor. He relieved himself of his undershirt and then began to take off his pants. Rukia's eyes followed his fingers as he pulled the zipper down tooth by tooth, the lids coming off from her eyes more and more until they were as wide as plates.

 

Her body began to tremble as he shoved away his pants and his boxers. His body was as lithe as a jungle cat as he crawled over her and hovered above her.

 

“Ichigo,” Rukia panted, her jerking limbs shuddering pleadingly against him, “P-Please… too much…”

 

Before she could speak another word Ichigo sheathed himself inside of her.

 

Rukia screamed like he had never heard her scream before because right now she was feeling pleasure the likes of which she had never felt before. She brought her nails up to claw into his shoulders and clamped her knees to his hips. Ichigo pulled out of her only to slam back inside harder than before.

 

Rukia's head fell back onto her neck as she rolled through an orgasm so tremendously powerful it even startled Ichigo for a moment. She clamped around him with a tremendous force. Ichigo felt himself choking softly in his throat as she gripped him.

 

But Ichigo wasn't finished. He pushed into her and pulled out of her with the speed of a demon. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she moaned and gasped as though they were the only sounds she could ever make. Her hands clamed around him and she shuddered violently.

 

Her name came through his lips as he felt his release nearing. He swore and pressed the side of his face to hers. His lips roved her breathtaking features until they paused on her lips. Her mouth was open and moaning and he took advantage of her gasping orifice. His tongue invaded her mouth as fully as it had invaded her center. She crooned against him but did not fight. He didn't know if she could fight. She allowed him complete reign over their lips; he sucked, tested, and teased. His hungry mouth couldn't be satiated as he plundered her.

 

Finally, Ichigo wretched his mouth away from hers and came hard inside of her. His body jerked and shook as he wildly dipped inside of her. She took all of him, just like she always did, and squeezed him just as tightly as her entire body rolled through another powerful orgasm.

 

Ichigo thrust into her one last time before he felt her entire body become limp in his grasp. Her arms fell from his shoulders, her legs dropped from his hips, and her head dropped back onto the pillow.

 

Ichigo's body shook as he removed his head from the crook of her neck and shoulder. He slowly moved his body up until he was hovering above her. He brought his eyes to her face and blinked heavily at what he saw.

 

Rukia Kuchiki had passed out.

 

 

 

 

(A/N: Okay, so not entirely sure how people will react to this chapter but, eh, I like how it turned out.

 

I wanted to say Happy Holidays to everyone who's reading this fic. May you and your families have a great time over this holiday season.

 

Plus, as a little present from me to you this chapter won't be all that you'll read from me tonight. Click the next button and you'll get the next installment of Odalisque.)