InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Bijou ❯ Bijou ( One-Shot )

As posted on the LJ community, 36iyerotictales.

A/N: History repeats itself; the Any Way The Wind Blows universe again, as well as another Queen song inspired title (see many of my pieces posted on iyhed if you aren't familiar with my pattern XD). Yes, still ever-trapped in the swirling cyclone of my larger fiction. Not too much spoilage here, though; no more than the previous story. The major differences are that Kazeninaku still lives… and, thus, so does Naraku. As you read on, you may think this better fits the Hot Spring prompt, but it was begun with Gentle in mind and is submitted in the same connotation… or whatever. I'm not by any means a poet, nor should I try to be. Fic-polish courtesy of kiramaru7. Hope you all enjoy the story. :)

Bijou

She awakened to the soft patter of rain lapping at the rocky shelter that overhung her sleeping spot. The wind sorceress raised her heavy head, opening first one crimson eye then the other. The smoldering ruins of the fire sent its noxious smoke wafting in front of her figure. Where had everyone gone?

Kagura stood with a groan and stretched, the cloudy slivers of the gray above peeking in though her squinting eyes as she raised her face to the rain. Now she remembered where everyone had disappeared to. Rin had gone fishing, Sesshoumaru was off training their daughter and Jaken was gods knew where, but who cared. She bid the others goodbye somewhere in the orange rays of dawn and had taken repose beneath this rock by the fire to while away the lonely hours before everyone's return.

Now that it seemed sleep would not have her long, another warmer place called her from her former warmth at the now defunct campfire. A dip in the hot spring claimed as part of camp would be just the thing to ease the rain away. Her bare feet collected mud as she walked into the forest containing the spring, but it was no matter; soon it would be washed away, along with all her lingering mortal aches.

She silently cursed Naraku, not just for all the general ill the man caused, but for giving her that damned human heart. As much as she had learned from it beating with humanity and love inside her, it had given her some nasty side effects that dwelt still, even after her demon blood was given rise by the jewel shard that saved her and her child's life.

The wind sorceress shed her butterfly adorned layers and stepped into the heat of the spring. Its warmth embraced her rain-chilled body and she sat, leaning back against the bank, a sigh escaping her into the muggy air. Her aches soon melted away, the tension in her muscles relenting as the calming water worked its magic.

Her crimson eyes drifted shut, a smile creeping across her lips as her mind played over memories of equal or greater soothing warmth. The touch of her gentle lord defined peace and contentment for her. She was convinced it was where her only true freedom resided.

And yes, even in this bondage to a new master, she had her freedom. Though the threat that was Naraku still loomed, the mere thought of her protector's fingers on her skin possessed the power to wipe it all away. It didn't hurt in periods of boredom either, when she was left alone in camp with no other company than the two-headed dragon. She allowed one hand to trail down her stomach, her fingers lightly combing through the small patch of curls that tapered between her thighs. She parted her legs, giving herself better access to the memory of his touch, her fingertips gliding effortlessly over the little pleasure hub hidden between the folds of her womanhood.

It was as if she could feel his kisses on her skin, the suck of his mouth at her nipple as the water-slicked fingers of her other hand played over one breast. The idea of his golden gaze upon her left her breathless. But it was more than an idea, this she was aware of now. She paused her self-pleasure with a wider smile. Her demon senses having returned with her blood, she could feel his presence tucked among the trees, and then, moving closer, drawing nearer the spring and to her.

She turned her head slowly back, his white figure coming into view with each centimeter. His cuirass and boots were already lying on the ground next to him, the silken garments that clothed him falling at his bare feet. Crimson stole a glance at gold, fire igniting as it always did when they locked each other in that familiar heated gaze.

Sesshoumaru stood in all his well-muscled glory, naked if not for the mokomoko slung loosely over one shoulder, the sunlight sifting through the canopy over his glorious form from the clearing sky. Kagura turned in the water and folded her arms on the bank, licking her lips at the sight before her. He laid the mokomoko carefully on the ground and bent down, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. She allowed him to guide her onto the bank, the steam from the spring tickling her bottom, little trickles of water tracing her womanly curves. Her ponytail clung wet and heavy to her neck and back, thick black snakes of hair dripping naughty little droplets down the crack of her bum.

“You caught me.” The wind user grinned impishly.

“Interesting bathing ritual. I see now why you spend so much time in the spring.”

“This is not a usual occurrence. Merely an alleviation of boredom in your absence.”

To this he responded with a gentle pull of her body against his, a press of his lips to hers, his only hand wandering over her slick skin, sending tingles all through her body. Whatever chains had bonded her to her former master broke, even if momentarily, over and over again as these sensations incited her nerves. The lady sunk with her lord onto the fluff of his beloved pelt, his erection bumping her stomach as she sat astride his lap.

“You are my reason to breathe,” she whispered against his lips. The soft curving of his mouth bent beneath her kiss, the rare true smile of the dog demon eliciting wetness not belonging to the water. She scooted back a little and bowed to the organ standing in rigid salute to her, moistening its tip with a generous tongue. Sesshoumaru lifted his hand, a hand that had cut many an adversary down with poison claws, and stroked her hair with placid fingers, the rhythm of his touch hastening with his breath.

Kagura lifted her face with a winsome smirk, her crimson eyes taking possession of that gilded stare, holding it, while she rose to her knees and aligned herself with him. With two fingers, she parted her folds, her other hand fastened on his shoulder for balance. The wind sorceress lowered herself onto the demon lord, a moan catching in her throat as her muscles immediately tightened around his girth.

A clawed hand gripped her healthy bottom, pumping her in rhythm with her hips, up and down, up and down. The round globes of her breasts bounced as her pace increased, yelps and whimpers erupting from her as his love filled her, completed her; freed her. She was in complete control and, generally, always was. It was strange but welcomed, to be granted such power by the great demon Sesshoumaru. Was it simple concern knowing what abuse she had endured whilst still in the clutches of her father and former master? Or a need on his part to lose control? Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

His little sighs coarsened, growing from breath into voice as he too grew closer and closer to that sweet release. Sometimes he growled upon reaching climax, other times he moaned as she did. And, yet, even as close and open with each other as they had grown in the year or more since they first shared this beautiful act, there were times he made no sound at all. Kagura anticipated, this time, that he would moan like a woman, which she quite liked. It wasn't that she enjoyed it as a display of fragility, though any moment of vulnerability the demon lord showed her was decidedly exhilarating, but that it exposed his true bliss when he uttered such sounds.

“Unh,” came followed by a sweet little gasp, “Sesshoumaru,” she cried. Seized by shudders of ecstasy, every muscle pulled taut, the existential heat in her abdomen stretching reality; thinning time. The organ filling her pulsed and grew, those delicious whimpers absconding from its owner as their peak hit with simultaneous excitation.

Her spine seemed to melt into nonexistence and she collapsed over him, her ear pressed against his chest, just over his racing heartbeat. The water that soaked her from the spring now mixed with their shared perspiration, waves of aftershocks washing over her as she rode the rise and fall of his breath beneath her. She realized, when she felt his hand slide from her rear and delicate fingers wind into the tendrils of her hair, that this was what mortals called happiness and, despite her brief liberation from those thoughts, she was forced to wonder if Naraku might be a creature so empty of the ability to feel it that maybe that was why he delighted so much in paining others. It wasn't that completely far-fetched a thought.

“Kagura, don't,” said Sesshoumaru in his usual, more authoritative tone.

“How do you always know when I do?” she mumbled into his sternum.

“I can smell it.”

“You can smell it? Even with all this raw, animal sex in the air?” she giggled.

He coiled his fingers firmly into her soppy locks. “He is not long for this world. Forget him.”

Kagura smiled, tracing the contours of his lean muscles with her fingers, staying just as she was, still interconnected with him. There was no safer place to be, no gentler man to belong to. No sweeter freedom, or reward than this. Every tiny moment was precious, each one to be relished, their taste savored down to the last sensual morsel. Lavender lids grew heavy, painted lips still smiling below. That was just what she intended to do.