Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ ONS and More ❯ Date Night ( Chapter 2 )

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

 

(A/N: Here you are peoples, the long awaited—or maybe not—sequel to ONS. I hope you guys like this one and there will be more of them on the way—just to let you know. Also, a shout out to everyone who is currently studying their butts off for exams… I commend you for finding the time to read my fic. Please enjoy this story and feel free to review liberally. =) Tituba.)

 

Date Night

 

Near the front of her apartment, Rukia heard the doorbell ring.

 

“Coming!” She called as she checked her appearance one more in the bathroom mirror. She stepped back and critically appraised her dress again: black and strapless with a pattern of rhinestones just above her breasts.

 

With a final tweak of her hair she fastened her second earring into the small hole and clicked her way out of the bathroom. Her heels tapped on the hardwood as she weaved her way through the boxes in her way.

 

The knock became more persistent and she wrinkled her nose, “I'm coming, I'm coming, hold on already.”

 

“Would you hurry up?” Ichigo whined on the other side of the door, “I look stupid standing out here alone.”

 

Rukia grinned and undid the metallic latches, as soon as the final one fell she pulled back the thick wooden structure that lay between her and her date.

 

Ichigo whistled low in his throat. “Damn, you can clean up real nice.”

 

“Thank you,” she said coyly as she dipped low in a small curtsey.

 

Ichigo grinned at her and stepped inside, in an instant his hand was wrapped around the back of her neck and his lips were upon hers. Rukia groaned at the insane taste and slipped her tongue into his mouth, battling against him.

 

The door shut behind him and he brought his other hand down to cup her bottom. Rukia chuckled at the feeling and detangled from his lips. “Come on, we have a reservation.”

 

Ichigo bent his head and nibbled at her neck, “We don't have to use it.”

 

Rukia could slowly feel her arms turning into puddles. “Seriously, we should go.”

 

Another small whine escaped his mouth and his chest rumbled against hers. “I don't wanna.”

 

“Kami, you sound like a three year old.” She said exasperatedly before she stepped away from him completely. With a practiced hand and a careful eye she smoothed the rumples on his dress shirt and jacket. She raised an eyebrow at him, “If we go to dinner now…” she rose in her stiletto heels and nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth, “You can have dessert later.”

 

“Mmm,” he murmured as his hands explored the skin of her shoulders, “What kind of dessert?”

 

“The best kind.” She said as she winked, practically purring in delight.

 

He nodded and watched her form as she walked over to the couch and picked up a small, black, purse. Rukia had to step over three boxes in order to reach the white sofa. Ichigo looked around the space of her living room and frowned; brown boxes were everywhere, some were stuffed with newspaper and others with bubble wrap. Books, tapes, vases, pictures, clothing, and anything else that wasn't too large were stuffed inside of them. They littered the floor and led into the other rooms in the apartment.

 

Strange as it was, Ichigo felt a small twinge of irritation in the pit of his stomach. “Going somewhere?” He asked, his voice sounding colder than he intended.

 

Rukia looked up at him; she noticed his tone and frowned slightly. “Yeah, I'm moving to a new complex a couple blocks away.” She grabbed her purse and skipped over a couple more boxes in order to go back to him. “I was going to tell you tonight. I was even wondering if you could help me move a couple boxes.” She reached her hand forward and grasped his fingers. She smiled into his eyes and said, “I want to start again, I want to put this behind me.” She turned and looked behind her. “There're just too many memories here that I don't need.”

 

Ichigo nodded and kissed her the top of her head. “If that's the case, then I'll help.” He tightened his grasp on her fingers and pulled her close once again. “Now,” he murmured, staring straight into her eyes. “Are you sure you don't want to eat in?”

 

Rukia raised a scolding eyebrow and tugged him into the hallway. “Come on, this is our second date, I'd like to have an actual conversation.”

 

“There was conversation in our last date.” He defended as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

Rukia opened the door to the stairwell and turned to glare at him, “Making me drop chow mien on my thigh, telling me it's there, licking it off, and then eating my pussy until I scream doesn't count as conversation.”

 

Another cocky smile curved on Ichigo's face, he shrugged and followed her down the stairs, “Are you sure? I think it counts.”

 

Rukia shook her head and went out the stairwell and into the lobby. “Come on, we're going to dinner. I want to know more about you.”

 

“You mean, other than my favorite sex positions?” He asked smugly.

 

“Now you're just being a pig.” She snorted.

 

“And you love it.” He replied as they walked into the bustling street. The sun was just beginning to set and people were leaving work to go home. Rukia stepped near the sidewalk and looked back at Ichigo. In the setting sun he looked perfect. He was dressed in black jeans that hugged tight to his thighs and buttocks along with a dress shirt which was un-tucked and opened at the throat. He couldn't have looked more handsome—a perfect mix of casual, dressy, and sexy.

 

Tearing her eyes away from him she scanned the streets.

 

Her eyes swept back and forth, there was Mr. Musagi's eco-friendly car, Mrs. Kokina's sports car, and the Tsurga's family van… she frowned and looked back at him, “Are we taking a taxi?”

 

Ichigo came up behind her and shook his head, his Cheshire grin widening even further. “Not really.”

 

Rukia's frown deepened. “Bus?”

 

He shook his head and held onto her elbow, remaining silent, he steered her towards the Tsurga car and then beyond. When she saw what he was leading her to, Rukia stopped dead in her tracks.

 

“Oh… hell no.”

 

Ichigo grinned and pushed into her back. “Come on, Rukia. Don't tell me you've never ridden on a motorcycle before.”

 

“Never.” She said bluntly as she dug her tiny heels into the cement sidewalk. “And I have no desire to either.”

 

“Damn, you've been living in a bubble.” He muttered as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up. Rukia let out a high pitched squeal and thrashed her legs in the air.

 

In a moment he had her straddling the motorcycle.

 

“Bastard! I told you—” She began in a frustrated yelp before a helmet was shoved over her head.

 

Angrily, she flipped up the visor and glared at Ichigo, who was already leaning over to get onto his bike. “I am wearing a dress Ichigo, a black dress that barely goes to my knees. How am I going to stop from flashing everyone on this monstrosity?”

 

Ichigo pulled one leg over the bike but didn't face forward; instead he flipped around and moved until his face was only three inches away from her helmeted head.

 

“Okay…” he said as he stared at her through the visor. “You have one of two options. One: You can ride the motorcycle and we can go to dinner. Or number two: we can get off the motorcycle, we can go back up to your apartment, and I can fuck your brains out on the floor.”

 

Rukia's breath caught and her cheeks flushed. “Why the floor?”

 

Ichigo shrugged and said, “It's the first flat surface in your apartment.”

 

Rukia's cheeks burned even more and she shifted on the seat. After a moment she relented and rolled her eyes. “Alright, jackass, I'll ride your damn motorcycle.”

 

Ichigo grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “Excellent. Now remember to hold on tight to my back. Don't let go or you might fall off.”

 

Rukia stiffened. “If you make me fall off I'll never go out with you again.”

 

Ichigo turned around and revved the bike engine until it purred. He put a second helmet over his fiery hair and turned his head so his eyes were peering into hers once again. “If that means we stay in on our dates then that's fine with me.”

 

Rukia was about to retort when Ichigo kicked up the kickstand and peeled out of his parking space.

 

Rukia was instantly pressed against his back. Her arms were glued around his waist and her legs were clenching the cool metal of the machine beneath her.

 

She felt Ichigo's chest rise and fall in a small chuckle and she glowered. She was going to kill him for this…

 

… Once she was off the bike.

 

She was glad the restaurant was only a few miles away. Rukia closed her eyes as she felt Ichigo lean the bike to the left and the right when he turned. Her body clenched and unclenched with each small movement.

 

“Relax,” she heard him shout over the noise of the streets. “Open your eyes and try to enjoy it.”

 

Rukia gulped and—against her better judgment—peeled her eyes open.

 

It was only then that she felt the soft wind blowing on her skin, she heard the gentle purring of the engine, and she felt the delicate vibrations under her body.

 

In time she leaned with the motorcycle and loosened her death grip on Ichigo's waist.

 

`This was actually quite an enjoyable event,' Rukia thought as she lifted up the visor on her helmet to feel the air touch her face. `It feels good.'

 

For a moment, Ichigo was resting at a red light and a red sports car pulled up beside them. The driver inclined his head towards the couple on the motorcycle and whistled low.

 

“Hey baby, why don'cha come and take a ride with me?” He called through the loud boom of his music, “And we can pull that dress up as far as you want.” He laughed smugly and waggled his eyebrows with disgusting suggestion.

 

Rukia's cheeks burned and she tried to yank the dress—which was already up past mid thigh—down further. She succeeded slightly but it would hardly move past three quarters.

 

The driver was beginning to hoot when Ichigo took both hands off the bars on his bike and yanked his helmet off of his head. Rukia couldn't see his face but his body language was tense and fit to kill.

 

“Hey!” Ichigo yelled, the man's attention went from Rukia to Ichigo and he glared.

 

“What?” He leered.

 

“Apologize to my date,” he growled, “Unless you want me to destroy your girlfriends' car.”

 

The man's eyes widened and his mouth open slightly. “How—how did you know?”

 

“No man with an actual penis drives around in a car with the license plate that says `2CUTE4U.'” Ichigo spat in disgust.

 

The man's head swiveled around his car. Rukia noticed as well, the evidence was everywhere, a pink purse in the back, nail polish in the cup holder, lip gloss hanging from the rearview mirror… oh yeah, it was definitely not his car.

 

Rukia turned to Ichigo and said, “Or maybe he stole the car, perhaps we should report it?”

 

“Or maybe,” he replied, turning to her, “He stole it from his girlfriend without her knowledge; we should probably find out who she is and tell her. What do you think?”

 

The man's eyes widened and he looked desperately to the red light, as if willing it to turn green.

 

“It's just a quick stop at the police station.” Rukia nodded solemnly, her gaze sliding back to the terrified man in the car. “I think we have enough time.”

 

The man's look of horror widened and he began to sputter. “Shit, man, I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean—you can't—she'd take my balls off—don't!” The light turned green and in an instant he was out of there, tires screeching on the pavement.

 

Ichigo took a moment before moving on to look back at Rukia, an expression of slick enjoyment on his face. With a small grin he turned to the front of his motorcycle and revved the purring engine. Soon they were on the move.

 

Rukia felt a light flutter in her chest the rest of the ride—and she knew it wasn't nerves from the bike.

 

He stood up for me. She thought happily as Ichigo swerved into the restaurant. He stood against some random guy trying to make a pass at me. Rukia could feel her heart beating even faster and rested her cheek against Ichigo's back, which was covered in the soft fabric of his dinner shirt.

 

Ichigo found a parking space near the back of restaurant and settled the motorcycle inside. Once he had removed the keys from the ignition he helped Rukia off the back and stood while she brushed her hair back into place.

 

He took a second to adjust himself before he looked up and found her staring at him.

 

“What?” He asked, his tone still one of anger from the man in the car.

 

Rukia's lips curled upward in a soft smile.

 

“Thank you… Ichigo.” She said softly before coming forward and kissing him lightly on the lips.

 

She pulled away and looked softly into his eyes, “Just… thank you.”

 

Despite his still sour mood, a masculine smile appeared on Ichigo's face. “It was nothing,” he muttered as he shrugged his shoulder. “I'll kill the bastard next time.”

 

Rukia grinned and slipped her hand into his.

 

“Come on,” she said—feeling happier than she ever had at the mention of a death threat, “Let's go inside.”

 

Ichigo nodded and tightened his grip on her, a small smile of his face.

 

With linked arms they entered the restaurant and Ichigo motioned to the host. “Kurosaki Ichigo, table for two.”

 

The man in a suit nodded and grabbed two menus, “Right this way please.”

 

Rukia glanced around the restaurant in appreciation. In truth she had never been to this place but was glad Ichigo had decided on it. Men and women were seated intimately at darkened tables, candles burned at the center and soft music floated through the air. The place was less formal concerning dress than a stuffy restaurant and allowed for more freedom.

 

The host smiled to them and made a move to pull Rukia's seat out but Ichigo brushed him off and did it himself. With her seated he took off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair. He sat quickly and looked up at the host, “We'll take two glasses of your best wine,” he looked at Rukia and frowned, “Red?”

 

She nodded and remained quiet, a smile playing on her lips.

 

“Red then.” He said. The man nodded and went off in the direction of the kitchen. Ichigo turned his attentions back towards Rukia and grinned. “You had red wine with your chow mien.”

 

“I did, didn't I?” Rukia mused, “Thank Kami that didn't fall onto the carpet.”

 

Her mind reverted to the other night and she felt her cheeks redden—not to mention her core grow slick.

 

“Okay,” Ichigo said as the host returned with their wine and gave them a minute to order. “You said you wanted this date so we could learn more about each other. So… what do you want to know?”

 

Rukia picked up her menu and skimmed through it, “Well, how do you eat your steak?”

 

“Well done,” Ichigo said, “I get enough raw stuff with sushi. You?”

 

“Medium,” she answered as she folded the menu, “I like a little pink.”

 

After a few minutes of contemplation a waitress came and they ordered; steak for both of them, well done and medium, with salad and rolls.

 

“Okay,” Rukia said, taking a sip of her wine, “Tell me about your family.”

 

“You don't want to meet them.” Ichigo said automatically.

 

Rukia frowned slightly and cocked her head to the side. “Anything else I should know?”

 

Ichigo chuckled and shook his head. “Well, maybe.” He took a breath and began. “My dad's a complete spaz who still fauns over his dead wife—my mother—and I have two sisters: Karin who's surly and has a soccer scholarship coming in from the U.S.A. that she's going to take, and Yuzu, who loves housework and is planning to become a world class dessert chef.”

 

Rukia laced her fingers together and rested her hands on the top. “That's pretty interesting, but I still think I'd like to meet them.”

 

Ichigo remained silent as he stared at her.

 

“Someday.” She amended and he nodded.

 

“If you do, my father will immediately ask you to give him grandchildren, Karin will close herself up in her room, and Yuzu will force food down your throat.” He took a sip of wine and shrugged, “Just warning you.”

 

Rukia laughed and Ichigo grinned, her laugh sounded like the soft tinkling of a bell. “What about you? Any other family I should know of… I mean, I knew you grew up in an orphanage, but still…”

 

“Actually,” she said matter-o-factly, “I have a brother.”

 

Ichigo frowned, “A brother?”

 

“Not a biological one.” She amended. “He adopted me when I was seventeen.”

 

“Seventeen?” Ichigo asked skeptically. “Pedophile?”

 

Rukia glared at him and shook her head. “Not in the slightest. I know this is going to sound strange but here we go.” She paused and drew in a breath. “It turns out that I had an older sister whose name was Hisana, she was older than me by at least eighteen years and she left me in the orphanage when our parents died so she could live on her own. She soon fell in love with a man named Byakuya Kuchiki and after they were married she began to feel guilty about leaving me and began to search for me. Her body began to deteriorate as she grew sick—I think it was cancer—and she asked Byakuya to keep searching. When he found me I was seventeen and he agreed to adopt me before I was fully out of the foster system.”

 

Ichigo stared at her and blinked slowly. “Kami, you're life is like a soap opera.”

 

“I'm not sure that's a complement.” Rukia answered warily.

 

“I'm not sure it is either.” He conceded.

 

Rukia shrugged and took a sip of her wine, “He is a very nice man, a bit cold and sometimes people think he has a nuclear missile stuck up his ass when they first meet him, but… he took me in and paid for my living expenses—he even got me into a top college and took care of the money until I graduated.”

 

“Do you still see him?” Ichigo asked.

 

“From time to time.” Rukia answered, “But he's not a very social person.”

 

“What does he do?”

 

“He's a lawyer and a real stickler for the law; he's a prosecutor and detests anyone who breaks the rules.” She snorted, “I bet he'd even convict me and send me to death if it meant upholding the law.”

 

“Creep.”

 

“It's just his way?”

 

“What did you study?”

 

“What?”

 

“At college, what did you study?”

 

“Business, advertising, I'm currently working at Maski Advertisements.” Rukia said proudly.

 

Ichigo whistled low in his throat and nodded to the waitress as she brought their food to them. “You do work hard.”

 

“Of course,” Rukia replied. “What do you do?”

 

“I'm a med student.” Ichigo answered simply.

 

A piece of steak hovered in the air as Rukia's hand paused and she stared at Ichigo. “You are?”

 

“I'm CPR certified and everything.” He muttered sarcastically.

 

“I didn't mean it like that,” Rukia snorted, “I just didn't know.” She blinked and stared at his face, her eyes roving up and down his body.

 

“What?” Ichigo asked harshly, suddenly uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

 

“Just picturing you in scrubs.” Rukia shrugged as she chewed on her steak. “Damn you'd look good.”

 

Ichigo felt twin spots of red appear on his cheeks and he coughed slightly. “Well… yeah but… um, I live in an apartment outside of the university with my roommate, Uuryu Ishida—who, by the way, you also never want to meet, he'll take your measurements and sew you something.”

 

Rukia blinked and chewed, “Okay… that's not creepy.”

 

“He started the handicrafts club at our university and even met his girlfriend there, but he's also training to become a doctor, so we kind of compete to make each other better.” He added.

 

Rukia nodded and polished off her steak. “So are you studying in particular?”

 

“I'm going to be a general practitioner,” he said, “My dad's one so I'm going to take over his practice when he retires.” He rolled his eyes, “I think Ishida's going to be a brain surgeon or something; he always teases me about it.”

 

Rukia nodded in understanding and they went back to their meal, occasionally interrupting with questions.

 

Ichigo had just started on his salad when he noticed Rukia was looking at him for long periods of time then averting her eyes. Whenever he caught her gaze she just sent her eyes down onto her salad—but they kept flicking up and staring at him.

 

After about three minutes of staring and blushing Ichigo finally asked her what she was doing.

 

“I keep picturing you in scrubs.” Rukia muttered as she took a large gulp of wine. “Fuck, why couldn't you be an accountant or something?”

 

A smug grin appeared on Ichigo's face. “Why?”

 

“Because thinking of you in scrubs makes me think of taking off your scrubs. An accountant is not as sexy as a doctor.” She growled.

 

“Then thank Kami I'm going to be a doctor.” Ichigo teased.

 

Rukia glared at him and placed her napkin on her half-eaten plate of food. In a moment she was pushing away from the table and grabbing his coat.

 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Ichigo asked, startled by her strange behavior.

 

“Come on, we're going back to my place.” Rukia said swiftly as she dug his wallet out of his pocket and tossed a few bills on the table.

 

“But I'm not finish—” he started as Rukia pulled him up; she placed a finger on his lips and grinned seductively.

 

“Then I guess you'll just get your dessert a bit early.” She whispered.

 

In less than a second Ichigo and Rukia were on his bike, speeding back to her apartment complex.

 

 

 

Rukia unlocked the door to her apartment and turned to grab the front of Ichigo's shirt. He grinned evilly and followed her willingly.

 

She stepped over various boxes and slid towards the bedroom. Ichigo pursued her steps religiously. He knew the layout of her apartment by heart now. Kitchen on the right, bedroom second on the left, guest room first on the left, living room in the front. He felt his pants growing tighter as she led him into the darkened bedroom and flipped on a light. Ichigo quirked an eyebrow—the other times they had had sex it was in the dark.

 

She bent down and kicked off her shoes before turning around and standing before him. Her top of her head barely came to his mouth but the sheen in her eyes made her seem ten feet tall.

 

“I want you to see me,” she said huskily as her hands came up to her breasts, “As I do what I'm about to do to you.”

 

Ichigo felt his erection throb, his breath was becoming short and he swallowed hard. “What you're going to do to me?”

 

Rukia's hands came from her breasts and began to unbutton his shirt. “I've been thinking,” she said as coolly as if she were bargaining for a lamp at an antique market, “That the last times we've had sex you've been doing all the work.” She frowned at the inferior buttons and growled, “So this time,” her hands gripped the fabric tightly. “I'm going to do all the work.” In an instant his shirt was off, buttons scattering across the floor.

 

“Damn woman,” Ichigo said as his hands came to her forearms, “You must want me really bad.”

 

Rukia went to his pants and undid the buckle. “I was soaking all through dinner, you don't even know what you do to me you jackass.”

 

Ichigo grinned as she ripped off his belt and tossed it onto the floor. “Talking dirty are we?”

 

Rukia flicked her eyes up to him and yanked his zipper down. In an instant his pants and his boxers were around his ankles and she was holding him—hot and heavy—in her hand. Ichigo's eyes widened and he gripped her arms harder.

 

“In a second,” she said, grasping his cock and pulling him towards her bed, Ichigo almost tripped in a rush to get his clothes off his ankles and comply. “My mouth will be too full to talk.”

 

“Holy sh—” Ichigo began, but never got the chance to finish.

 

He never knew Rukia was that strong. In less than three seconds she had pushed him on the bed, forced him to stay down, and was currently sitting on his legs. Ichigo whined high in his throat, he couldn't touch her or even taste her! How the hell was he supposed to—

 

His thoughts stopped immediately when he saw her smirk fully in the shining light, bend her back, arch her delicate neck, open her luscious lips, expose the tip of her tongue, and flick it over the top of his erection.

 

Holy. Fuck.

 

Ichigo's hips jerked upwards in a swift motion and Rukia's mouth opened even further to accommodate him.

 

Ichigo felt like his body was on fire, Rukia's mouth was soft and hot and slick. She swallowed him completely and moved her head up and down, sucking lightly. Ichigo groaned and arched upwards, she took in more of him, the tip touching the back of her throat.

 

“K-Kami.” Ichigo stuttered as her one of her hands reached up and pinched his nipple. The sensation was strange but welcome and Ichigo soon covered her hands with his. He fondled her fingers and pressed kisses to the pads of each.

 

Rukia grinned at his soft kisses and bared her teeth, running it down the length of his erection. Ichigo's breath shuddered inside and a guttural groan escaped his throat.

 

“Rukia…”

 

Rukia yanked her hand from his and reached down to cup and knead his balls. Her mouth continued to work on him and he could feel his release nearing.

 

Suddenly, Rukia's mouth left him. She gave him one more kiss before sliding up his body and parting her legs above him.

 

Ichigo's fingers came to her hips and snarled when he found they were still clothed. “Take the dress off or I'll rip it off.” He threatened.

 

Rukia grinned above him and placed her hands on the middle of her thighs. Slowly, she slid the dress up and up until it was resting at her waist. Ichigo's eyes widened and he snickered.

 

“You haven't been wearing panties this entire evening have you?”

 

“Why do you think I was so worried about the motorcycle?” She asked breathlessly as she pulled it more. It rested right below her breasts and Ichigo whined softly. Rukia giggled and finally wretched the dress completely off of her body, throwing it onto the floor.

 

Ichigo's hands gripped her roughly and yanked her forward; Rukia placed her knees on the bed and her core hovered right above his erection, her warmth and wetness teasing him.

 

“Rukia… come on.” Ichigo groaned as he tried to thrust into her heat. She chuckled and evaded him.

 

“Ichigo, I told you didn't I?” She whispered as she placed her hands on his biceps and forced his arms back down. “I'm going to do all the work.”

 

“Fine!” He growled, “Just fuck me already!”

 

Rukia's smug grin widened even more and in an instant she impaled herself on his engorged shaft.

 

Ichigo gasped at the feeling of her hot walls clenching him like iron. He couldn't remember sex ever feeling this good. Rukia moving slowly and in perfect rhythm. Her skin was shining with the glitter of sweat and she was panting laboriously. With the overhead lights gleaming down from above she looked like a glorious angel. Her eyes were case in shadows and her flesh was sparkling with a magnificent glow. Ichigo felt like he was fucking a goddess.

 

Or… well, she was fucking him.

 

Her arms were still clenching his and her breasts were swaying seductively before his face. Ichigo rumbled and reached his mouth up, his lips closing around her distended nipple.

 

Rukia gasped. “M-Maybe you c-can do that.” She stammered as she moved above him, her hips grinding into his. Ichigo grinned and bit down lightly. A small scream escaped Rukia's mouth and she moved even faster drawing Ichigo in and out at a furious pace. She moaned above him and he arched his hips, thrusting into her deeper—hitting places she never even knew she had.

 

“H-Holy f-fuck!” Rukia cried as she bit down on her bottom lip, trying to keep in the shriek that was threatening. Her urge to yell coupled with her urge to come as her insides began to shudder.

 

Ichigo thrust up harder into her and finally released one of his arms, his hands tangled in her hair and tore her forehead down to meet with his. Rukia's eyes were misted but a fire blazed right beneath the surface.

 

“Come for me,” he whispered as he thrust up and Rukia pounded down. “Scream for me.”

 

Rukia gasped and panted and captured his lips with hers. Within seconds her insides clenched at the same moment his cum spewed into her. She shrieked into his mouth as his tongue swirled around hers. Ichigo drank in her scream and reveled in the vibrations her voice caused. Rukia's orgasm rocketed through her body, pushing her to the limits and bringing her to the edge.

 

Ichigo felt his cock being completely milked by her compressing walls. She was so fucking tight!

 

Rukia made her final gyrating movements before leaning forward and falling onto his chest.

 

Her heart beat was as erratic as his as she rested atop his body and tried to find the energy to move. Mentally, she cursed. Every time she fucked Ichigo she always felt spent and violated and used.

 

No wonder she wanted more.

 

“Damn…” he murmured as he slid out of her and let her flop onto the bed until she was tucked snug against his side. “I should let you do that more often.”

 

“Of course,” she breathed, air escaping her mouth in a sigh and warming his skin even further. She gave a groan of contentment and smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him, his lingering erection touching her thigh.

 

“Or maybe,” she murmured before slipping into sleep. “We should eat in more often.”

 

Ichigo let out a weak chuckle and pulled up the blanket from the base of the bed. “Absolutely.”

 

Blissfully, they fell asleep.