InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Spider's Embrace ❯ A Spider's Embrace ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A Spider’s Embrace

Paring: Naraku/Kagome

Rated MA for adult content
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She hated him. She loathed him with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. She hated his deceptively handsome face. She hated the silky drawl of his smooth but treacherous voice. She hated the machinations of his sadistically clever mind. She hated the shimmering locks of his long dark hair. She hated the warm puffs of air he breathed down the back of her neck. She hated the feel of his powerful arms that even now wrapped loosely about her waist.

She wasn’t even sure why she hated him, but Kagome hated Naraku more than anything in the world.

Cushioned by a luxurious futon, the young miko opened her eyes to take in the dark but lavishly decorated room. There were murals and exquisitely crafted furnishings scattered throughout, yet she could find little beauty in them. Additionally, Kagome had been gifted with gold, jewelry, precious gems and other treasures that would be the envy of even royalty and yet she found no joy in their polished surfaces which only reflected her own miserable form.

They were the gains of a man, no a demon who took what he wanted and killed those who stood in his way. Through scheming, manipulation, and occasionally simple brute force, all who apposed him were destroyed, their earthly power and possessions becoming his inheritance. Though she had never harmed any of his victims, Kagome felt the blood on his hands had tainted her as well.

‘His victims…’ she thought bitterly. She too was one of his victims, but no one seemed to realize it but her and she wasn’t even sure why.

Moving very slowly, she turned in his arms to gage whether or not he was sleeping. She was unsurprised to see a pair of crimson eyes looking back at her. Her own chestnut eyes narrowed slightly.

Oh, how she hated him! There were times when revulsion crawled beneath her skin inspiring intense restlessness, and making her want to cry out in frustration at the power he held over her. She hated the way he held her, the things he did to her body, the way he forced mind-shattering pleasure upon her night after night. She hated the smugly satisfied expression he would always wear afterwards as he looked down on her flushed face.

Naraku looked into Kagome’s eyes, her loathing unmasked and exposed in their shimmering depths. She despised him and they both knew it, but they also knew that it didn’t matter. She was his to do with as he pleased and there was nothing she could do about it.

For ten years she had been his captive, and in that time her hatred of him had not wavered for even a moment. He had thought to dispose of her many times, but for one reason or another he had never managed to rid himself of her. Releasing her was never an option, and ending her life was far less palatable than he felt it should be, although he could not fully understand why.

He had first set eyes on the miko thirteen years ago when she was but fifteen years old. She had stood against him together with the inu hanyou called Inuyasha. Initially, she had reminded him of the woman his human heart had both loved and hated, the priestess Kikyou. The bandit Onigumo had coveted her because of her kindness and her beauty, but he had also hated her because he was intimidated by the untouchable purity that had surrounded her, and felt unworthy of her attentions. The hatred only grew when he, Naraku then, discovered that the priestess was in love with the worthless half-demon, Inuyasha. Though he was Onigumo no longer, the human heart remained within him and was scorned by the perceived rejection.

He wanted to kill her for her treachery, and eventually he did. Unexpectedly, a part of him grieved for her, but he managed to squash it beneath the near maddening pursuit for power in the form of Shikon jewel shards.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the miko returned to the land of the living a scant fifty years later seeking to avenge her own death and to put an end to his convoluted schemes. He decided he would kill her again, but somehow it was harder this time. His human heart still remembered the twisted love, the regret over having taken her life the first time and each time he was presented with the opportunity to deliver a lethal blow, those weak and pathetic emotions would always stay his hand.

Again and again, he reformed his body with powerful demons in hopes of drowning out his last trace of humanity. Finally, finally, he was able to end her life a second time. It took many transformations and many jewel shards, but less than a year later Naraku killed Kikyou for the final time. The elation over her demise was only short lived however, as that tiny spark of regret again flickered deep within him reminding him of the wretched humanity from which he was spawned.

In the years that followed, it revisited him occasionally, but he brushed it aside as soon as it appeared. Really though, it was never truly separated from him; merely lying dormant waiting for a convenient time to remind him of the one creature he had ever truly desired but who was lost to him forever.

It became a mocking voice in the back of his mind telling him that he was weak; too weak to simply take what he wanted, keep it for himself and never let go. It told him that he should never have killed her, but instead taken her and kept her for himself.

That little voice, more than anything else, was the driving force behind his desire to become a full demon. He would not repeat his folly. He would not be weak; he would not be denied his heart’s desires; he would not long for that which he could never have. He would achieve ultimate power through whatever means available to him and then he would take any and everything he wanted and anyone who tried to stop him would pay with their lives.

And so, three years after he began his quest to complete the Shikon jewel, he departed his pilfered mansion, and stole away into the cool autumn night. His unsuspecting enemies had just bedded down for the evening, and were unprepared for his arrival.

Unsuspecting as they had been, his foes remained formidable still. That night a terrific battle ensued, and more than once he feared he would not come out of it alive.

Several hours later he sported many large and gaping wounds which bled freely into the already bloodstained grass. His skin was singed in places, and many of his bones were broken. Barely supporting his weight against a large elm tree, he looked up to see the golden sun just as it peeked over the horizon that crisp autumn morning.

He, Naraku, was the last man standing.

All of his enemies lay broken and bloodied in the field, each of them already having drawn their final breath. The demon huntress and her fire-cat, the monk, the hanyou, even the fox-child. Yes, he was not above killing even a child if said child sought to stand in the way of what he desired. Honor was a trifling sentiment which meant nothing to him. Power was all that mattered, and how it was obtained was of little consequence.

Dragging his left leg, which he was sure was broken in several places, he made his way to the hanyou. Slowly, he leaned down and reclaimed the nearly completed jewel shard the boy had dared to take away from him. As soon as the jewel touched his skin, it blackened once again. It absorbed his evil, and in exchange granted him with its near limitless power. His wounds healed instantly, and a dark chuckle escaped his lips.

Standing tall now, he paid no heed to his tattered clothing as his raven locks danced around him in the cool morning breeze. Satisfied over the defeat of his enemies, he knew that he was not quite finished yet.

With measured steps he strolled over to the fallen miko. Without hesitation he kneeled to her battered body. Even in death, her small hand was clenched tightly against her chest, the last remaining jewel shards hidden inside. He easily uncurled her insignificant little fist removing the shards she sought to keep from him. He placed them all in his right hand before curling his fingers around them. Drawn by the power of the larger jewel, the three shards settled into their proper places, leaving no sign that they had ever been separate.

At long last the Shikon no Tama was complete. Immediately he felt its power surged through his body, and maniacal laughter burst from his lips. He rose to his feet, his hair and tattered clothing dancing wildly as an unnatural wind whipped around him. He held the jewel tightly, refusing to ever let it go again. Even as the wind grew violent in its intensity, and pain coursed through his veins from absorbing so much power all at once, Naraku refused to let go.

It was over as quickly as it began, and Naraku was left crumpled on the ground. There were now long sharp claws biting into the palm of his right hand while his left was splayed in the blood soaked grass to support his weight. He uncurled his fist to find that the Shikon jewel was gone and the four little crescent shaped cuts created by his claws sealed over before his very eyes.

His objective to become a full demon had finally been realized. The elation that he had expected upon achieving this goal was strangely lacking. Not that he wasn’t pleased, he simply felt as if he had no direction from this point. What does one do when they have achieved all of their goals?

The answer came to him rather quickly. Create new goals. He smiled darkly. But where should he begin?

The first thing he needed to do was remove himself from this wretched place. As he prepared to walk away, he accidentally kicked the miko’s lifeless arm. He paused and looked down, and for reasons he could not fathom to this day, he could not tear his eyes away. Years later, he would wonder how differently his life would have been had he not paused to look at her.

There had been cuts and bruises across much of her body, but her face was as pale as death itself. Bluish lips were slightly parted and hollow brown eyes seemed to stare straight through him. She looked utterly… tragic.

It wasn’t that he felt pity for her, for even when he was the human bandit Onigumo, he was not affected by such things. No, this was something different, something familiar. Unfortunately, it did not take long to realize what it was. Kagome, with her pale face and sad, lonely brown eyes, reminded him of another miko.

The priestess Kikyou, the one creature whose life he ever felt a measure of remorse for taking, had placed a curse upon him; probably without even realizing it. She cursed him and now he would never be able to forget her.

The voice haunted him still…

Even in the more powerful form of a full-fledged demon the voice told him that he was weak, that the enchantment of a long dead woman held him captive and he would never be free.

He was angry at first. After everything he had gone through, after all he had achieved, after years of scheming, manipulation, and well organized plans; he remained a prisoner to a woman who had died years ago. It was not right. Much of what he had done, he had done to rid himself of this very burden.

As he continued to look down on Kagome’s pathetic little face, he realized he would never be free.

And now… neither would she.

Though Kagome was completely innocent of his incarceration, he would inflict upon her what her predecessor inflicted upon him one-hundred fold.

With a level of resentment, Naraku kneeled to Kagome’s side. Tangling his fingers in her thick dark hair, he hoisted her body up from the grassy field before throwing her over his shoulder. With a light scowl marring his handsome features, he took them both from the battle field.



* * *



By early afternoon he had returned to his temporary home, and Kagome’s limp body was lying on a small futon. Through the power of the recently absorbed Shikon jewel, he found a way to bind her life to his, much the way he had done to the young boy called Kohaku.

The mark of the spider, the one he had detested so fiercely, was now a shared burden between them. Haunting crimson eyes watched as the girl slept, her body slowly mending its wounds.

At first he kept her by his side because she reminded him of the miko he had lost, and could never have. But, it did not take long for him to realize that Kagome was not Kikyou. She was different in many ways, and he found himself intrigued by her that very first day.

When he had bound her life to his, he had liberated her from the burden of her memories. It was a generous thing really. He did not require her misery to taint the Shikon jewel, so it was easier to allow her the tranquility of oblivion.

To his great amusement however, even though her memories were gone, her hatred of him remained. She did not even know why she hated him, but she loathed him and made no attempt to conceal it.

Curiously her hatred did not anger him in the least. In fact, he adored it. He attempted to find ways to increase it and so he laid oppressive rules upon her, forcing submission by allowing her flashes of her fallen comrades. She did not understand fully, and she wasn’t entirely sure who the people in her visions were; all she knew was that they were scary and painful and she did not want to see them anymore.

And so days turned into weeks, and around two months later, he acquired a new and larger home. Unwillingly of course, the miko relocated along with him.

A week later she tried to escape from him, but even with the great distance between them, he had been able to release her memories. He found her a short time later crumpled in a small heap in one of the far corners of his sprawling new courtyard. She was crying hysterically and when she saw him she begged him to make it stop.

It was her hate, and not her anguish which amused him, and so he conceded relatively easily, and again locked the painful memories away shielding her from the pain she did not fully understand.

Time rolled on, and he discovered that Kagome was an intelligent girl. She hated him still, but she heeded his oppressive rules and managed to avoid the wretched penalty he would impose upon her if she did not.

Finally, he decided fairness was not for him. Why he had attempted it in the first place was beyond him.

He decided rules be dammed, he would unleash the memories upon her whether she behaved or not. He did so sporadically and without warning causing her to cry out in anguish at the flashes of blood and gore and the faces of people she felt she should have known, but could not fully recall. It served to elevate the level of contempt she held toward him and he indulged in every moment of it.

“I hate you Naraku. I hate you more than anything in the world.” she would tell him, and he would smirk and eye her lasciviously forcing her to shrink away in disgust.

Months later, she would make an attempt on his life. From some place or another, she had acquired a small dagger. Late one night she crept quietly into his chambers, fully aware that his demonic hearing would pick up the sounds of her delicate footfalls. Still, she proceeded with her foolishness. She kneeled over his futon, raising the small blade high above her head. The dagger was mere inches from his chest before the tables were turned and she found herself pinned against the floor beneath him.

The suggestive position caused the miko’s eyes to widen in horror. This time there was not only hate, but intense revulsion. a dark smile had formed on his lips, and instead of unleashing the memories upon her, he slowly leaned in and dragged his tongue along the length of her neck. She had shuddered in disgust, and with that, a new game was born.

He could have simply taken her right then and there, and that would inspire even more hate within her, but Naraku had a better idea. He would not force himself on her, he would force her to want him. He would inspire wanton desire in her, and she would hate him all the more for it.

And so, that’s what he did.

Night after night he would come to her. He would slide beneath her bed sheets and touch her. He would run his clawed fingers softly along her body, dutifully ignoring her most sensitive places. Neglected were the hardened peaks of her breast, ignored were the rounded cheeks of her backside, abandoned was the wanton bundle of nerves between her legs.

The first time he came to her, the fear and revulsion had been palpable. It saturated the very air urging him to push her further and further. Pulling himself away had not been easy, but he was determined not to loose in this delightful new game of his. And so, he forced himself to stop, leaving her to weep alone in her room.

After the first few nights, she seemed to understand what he was trying to do. She did not cry anymore after that, and instead willed herself not to react at all. This annoyed him more than he cared to admit, and he occasionally punished her by using his sharp claws to create shallow cuts in her delicate flesh. It was of little consequence. As her very life was bound to his own, his demonic healing abilities were gifted to her as well. Still that did not mean it didn’t hurt.

Every night when she went to bed, Kagome knew that it was just a matter of time before he came in and violated her. She hated him for touching her as if he had every right to do so. She hated the smirk he always wore. She hated… the desire he awakened in her.

In less than a month, he had ignited an intense fire in her belly which smoldered even when he was away from her. Her treacherous body began to crave his touch. Throughout the day, she longed for the night when she knew he would come to her chamber.

One night, nearly two months after he began his twisted game, he came to her chamber clothed in nothing more than a thin white yukata. He apparently did not see fit to close it fully, allowing an expanse of his sculpted chest to remain exposed beneath the silky white cloth. Her mouth instantly went dry as she caught sight of his pale form in the darkened room. Soft silvery rays of moonlight spilled through an adjacent window illuminating one side of his face while the other remained cast in shadows. A single crimson eye stared at her from across the room and Kagome could not suppress the chill that ran down her spine.

She heard him close the door behind him, the light clicking sound causing her muscles to jolt beneath her suddenly hypersensitive flesh. In a moment he stepped more fully into the light, his predatory eyes glowing ominously under the delicate rays of the moon. His fair complexion stood out among the shadows and the dark wavy strands of his unbound hair, making him appear almost ethereal.

He was beautiful, he was untouchable, he was evil incarnate.

And she wanted him.

With measured steps he approached her bed. Instinct told Kagome to back away, but she knew she could never escape, and because of the erotic torture he had forced her to endure over the past two months she knew she didn’t truly want to.

And she hated him all the more for it.

He was at her bedside now, and his evil red eyes locked with her own. Her breath quickened as he loosened the thin obi at his waist, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I will not stop this time.” the quiet confession elicited a faint shudder, and Kagome instinctively clutched the lapels of the thin white kimono that served as her sleeping attire.

A sadistically amused chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he leaned in close to her, his lips a hair’s breath from her ear. “I will not stop,” he said again. “Not unless you tell me to.”

A shuddering breath passed through Kagome’s lips, and she turned a heated glare on him.

“I… I know what you’re trying to do…” she told him, her befuddled excitement causing her voice to waver.

Naraku smirked. “It matters not, my little miko.”

She scowled at him then. “I am NOT yours!”

Another dark chuckle passed through his lips. “I beg to differ Kagome, as you literally cannot live without me.”

The miko’s frown deepened. “Just kill me then!” she bit out, and he could tell she meant it.

His yukata slipped off his shoulders, to pool around his waist. He fisted his right hand in her kimono clutching the silky material tightly before pulling her perilously close to his naked torso. “Why would I do that...” his voice came out in a silky drawl, “when we can have so much more fun together?”

She shuddered as she felt him pull her even closer.

“I hate you, Naraku.”

“Yes,” he murmured. “You do.”

And then, with speed that could only belong to a demon, he pushed Kagome back onto the futon. Within seconds, her kimono was parted and her bare flesh was exposed to his hungry eyes. The miko barely had a chance to gasp in surprise, before his warm hands and searing lips were upon her. His moist tongue and dangerous fangs dragged languidly along her neck and collarbone while a large claw-tipped hand began to fondle her breast.

The miko gritted her teeth, willing her body not to respond.

This time Naraku was relentless, and seemed to be quite intent on not placing the restraints on himself he had imposed in their previous encounters. Surprisingly soft lips soon closed over the sensitive peak of her breast, and Kagome could not bite back a gasp of surprise and pleasure as his tongue began an enticing dance upon her delicate flesh.

She tried not to like it, she tried not to become aroused, but his tenacious assault repeatedly stole wanton gasp and moans from her treacherous throat.

He was touching her very intimately now, the pad of his thumb rubbing small circles against the engorged bundle of nerves between her thighs. His deceitful lips had trailed hot, open mouthed kisses across her entire torso, neck, shoulders and even her hips before he pulled back to watch her writhe under the torturously slow and feathery light massage which was taking place below.

His glowing red eyes bored into her like hot knives pinning her where she lay and daring her to move. His face was flushed, and his gaze was beyond intense.

He was beautiful, he was untouchable, he was dangerous.

“Tell me to stop, Kagome.” his voice was rougher than usual, and even though he was taunting her his words came out like an order.

Kagome whimpered lightly, and could not stop her hips from rocking against his wicked fingers. So he did it for her. He splayed his remaining hand across the lower part of her abdomen pinning her to the futon and preventing her from moving. He did not stop rubbing her, nor did he add more pressure to assuage the burning fire which was building inside her.

“Say it Kagome!” he all but growled, his voice sounding low and dangerous. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

The miko tried and failed to bite back a throaty moan as her hands convulsively fisted in the sheet that lined her futon.

‘Stop!’ she said in the quiet of her mind. The word was there on the tip of her tongue just behind her tightly clenched teeth, but she simply could not choke it out.

What he was doing to her was the sweetest kind of torture. It felt so, so good, and she absolutely hated him for it.

She shook her head to indicate that she did not want him to stop, and now she hated her self too, if only a little bit.

A lazy smile curved the edge of his lips, and an ominous, predatory gleam flickered in the crimson depths of his inhuman eyes.

“You want me then?” The question she both dreaded and expected spilling from his wayward lips and through the thick haze of arousal, Kagome narrowed her eyes at him.

He leaned in close to her again, his scorching breath dancing wickedly along the delicate flesh of her exposed neck. “Tell me what you want Kagome… and I will make it all better.”

He applied a bit more pressure to his torturous massage, and a cry of pure pleasure burst from the miko’s lips. “Tell me, Kagome” he breathed into her ear.”

She tried to growl, but it came out like a husky groan. “I detest you for making me say this Naraku.”

He chuckled before pressing his lips lightly against her earlobe. “Tell me.” he ordered again.

“I wan… I w-want… you.”

Treacherous, victorious laughter broke from his filthy, beautiful lips and he immediately positioned himself to claim his prize. “Then you shall have me… my precious little Kagome.”

He had barely finished speaking before she felt the damp fleshy head of his heavily aroused member being rubbed against her nether regions. The contact caused her to tense, and she cried out loudly when he suddenly thrust into her. He was only in a couple inches or so and he pulled back slightly before pushing forward again. Kagome cried out again as she shut her eyes tightly to fight back impending tears.

This hurt, and she was glad it hurt. She would remember this the next time and if he gave her the option to say no, she’d only have to recall the pain and it would be easier to refuse him. He withdrew a third time before his hips rolled forward again, this time immersing him fully. He didn’t even let her catch her breath before he pulled halfway out, an thrust forward again.

Kagome groaned through clenched teeth as he picked up a rough and steady rhythm. She didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse, but soon an intense pleasure began to build almost secretly beneath the pain.

Soon, the pain was almost entirely gone, leaving a near maddening pleasure in its stead. Jolting tremors coursed through her body causing her to writhe erratically beneath him. She tried not to like it, she tried to bite back her cries of pleasure, but his assault was unyielding and the pleasure he forced upon her body could be neither denied nor silenced.

She quickly found herself swept away in a wild, reckless sort of rapture and her body did not care that it was Naraku who foisted it upon her. Her blunt fingernails tore at the skin on his back, but this only spurred him on. Low growls, and throaty grunts followed the movement of his hips, his pleasure evident in the near suffocating embrace in which he held her.

Kagome was drowning in a sea of blinding ecstasy from which she could not escape. With each roll of his hips, she felt reality slip further and further away from her grasp. All that was real was him, and her, and the black tainted pleasure he forced her to endure.

She didn’t know how long this went on, before something inside her began to build. Low in her abdomen a sensation like nothing she had ever felt before grew more and more intense each time his hardened flesh was thrust inside of her. Her breath was coming in shallow pants, and she knew it was just a matter of time before she exploded.

The same thing seemed to be happening to him. She could feel his muscles trembling above her and rasping pants warmed the side of her neck where his head lay against her. Without further warning, something inside her burst. An incoherent screech exploded from her throat and dark abysmal rapture swallowed her whole. Quaking tremors wracked her small body as aftershocks continued to thrum through her bones. A guttural growl rumbled through Naraku’s chest, his movements becoming swift and increasingly erratic. A heavy groan signaled his release, and his movements gradually stilled.

That was the first time…

Each night after that, he came to her and did much the same thing. She hated the things he made her say, she hated the tainted pleasure he thrust upon her again and again. And most of all she hated how he made her want him. She hated him, but she wanted him all the same. She wanted his evil hands upon her flesh. She wanted his corrupt lips upon her breast and lips. She wanted the dark and guilty pleasure that only he could bring her.

As time rolled on, Kagome reluctantly relocated again. Now she shared his bed.

Though she hated his guts, she had essentially become the Lady of the house. All of the servants treated her as such and no amount of persuasion would stop them.

For his part, Naraku remained as he was. A dark, manipulative, scheming demon who used whatever means was available to him to attain what he desired. Many wealthy nobles, human and demon fell to his lust for power and his greed. His wanton disregard for life in general remained almost completely in check.

Almost…

Days turned into months, and months into years and through her blinding abhorrence, Kagome did not see the gradual cease of his cruelty toward her.

Neither did he…

Every day he attended the business of scheming, planning and conquering, and every night he parted her thighs, and made her cry out in ecstasy. Every day she cursed him for the cruelty he inflicted on others and every night she told him how much she despised him.

“Yes, you do.” was his recurring response.

In time, gifts of gold and jewelry were given with little regard, under the premise that they were feminine items and therefore of no use to him. She always told him that she did not want the items but they would always turn up on her dressing table anyway.

One night as his hardened flesh was buried deep inside her, she glared into his crimson eyes and asked him what it was he was trying to do. She told him that she could not be bought with fine clothes and fancy jewelry.

“I will never love you, Naraku! Never!”

“It matters not,” he breathed huskily against her throat. “For you love what I can do to you.” His hips rolled forward and a helpless, throaty moan burst from her kiss swollen lips. “You love how I can make you feel, and that is good enough.” he added, feeling as if he’d lied.

Now, it was ten years later, and the miko had not aged a day. As she often did, she turned over to glare at him when she thought he was sleeping. Her eyes, those shimmering chestnut orbs which had held so much hate, so much contempt for him looked just a little bit different tonight.

A faint trace of feminine arousal caressed his sensitive nose, and Naraku pulled the sheets away from them both and removed his sleeping kimono. Kagome watched him, just as she had done so many times before. When he was finished disrobing, he reached over and undid her obi, parting her kimono as well. She felt his warm clawed hands separating her thighs as he positioned himself between them.

Supporting himself on his elbows he leaned in close, his lips brushing against hers in the barest hint of a kiss.

“I hate you, Naraku.” her words came out in a quiet hiss.

The demon smirked.

“No…” he told her, “you do not.”

~Fin~
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I have never written for this paring before, but I had a chance to write about Naraku in a romantic situation (in another story) and kinda fell in love with him. Hehe… so I was looking for a really good Naraku/Kag story, but could not find one. Sooooo, I decided to give it a try myself.

I don’t know how good anyone will think it is, but I like it, and I had a ball writing it. It was a little different for me, but it got the creative juices flowing, I guess.

Hope you enjoyed.