InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Chou Shoki I: Learning from Yesterday ❯ Chapter 37 ( Chapter 37 )

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

She thought I was not unworthy to lover her.

- Lord Byron, Stanzas Written on the Road Between Florence and Pisa

CHAPTER 37

He met her gaze for a heartbeat, then leaned down to kiss her. It was a hot, deep, open mouthed, plundering kiss, the kind that knew they had no witnesses, not anyone likely to come looking for them - for her - for days. She needed to get out of there, to leave and protect her heart from the realization that he could be confused and thinking of Michiru. But if he was kissing her like that, some part of her reasoned, he couldn't be thinking of anyone else.

Kagome kissed him back, heat searing down her spine and out along her fingers and toes. Her hands, already reaching back, sank into his damp, silver hair. She wondered whether other women felt so intoxicated, so overwhelmed by his attentions. He nudged her chin up and began a series of slow, warm kisses along her jaw line, and her breath became a fast, ragged pant. She couldn't get enough air, couldn't get close enough to him.

The smell of her arousal reached his nose and he knew that after this, there would be no turning back. He wanted her and it was pretty evident. Her moans and heavy breathing were driving him insane. It took every ounce of his restraint to hold back and not throw her on the floor, drive into her hard until she could not walk anymore.

“You're trying to keep me here?” she accused breathlessly, pressing herself against his damp chest.

Sesshoumaru shook his head, looking away just long enough to reach out and close the shoji. “Would it be so bad?” he growled, slipping his fingers beneath the material at her shoulders and peeling the first layer of her kimono down her arms with aching, slow relentlessness. His mouth, tongue, and teeth followed, and he turned them so that she was once again pressed back against the wall. In a second he had her juban (short-sleeved wrap around shirt) open and he reached beneath the material to cover her breasts with his palms. Even through the thin muslin of her kimono, she felt the warmth of his touch, the pressure of his embrace, and she gasped.

“Sesshoumaru, onegai,” she practically whimpered, seeking his mouth again.

“Please what?” he rumbled, pulling her forward against him to yank the juban off her arms and down to the floor. Like a skilled harpist playing the strings, his fingers ran down her back, and her kimono loosened. Nudging her back again, he stripped the material down to her elbows, imprisoning her arms in the muslin. Before she could answer or even do more than gasp again, he took the susuyoke, the only thing covering her front from his glittering golden gaze, in both fists and ripped it open.

“Sesshoumaru, pleaseâ€•”

“Yes?” he breathed back, glancing into her eyes before his gaze returned to her breasts.

“Sesshoumaru,” she managed, then couldn't even breathe.

He ran his fingertips across her breast, light but utterly ruthless, circling closer and closer until his thumbs crossed her nipples. They hardened beneath his touch, budding as he passed his nails back and forth across them.

“Good hea... heavens.”

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured, then lowered his face. “So soft.”

With one hand, he continued to tease and mold her left breast, while he ran his lips and the tip of his tongue round her right one, following the path his fingers had blazed. When he took her nipple in his mouth, she thought she would faint right there. Kagome lifted her chin and closed her eyes, overwhelmed by sensation as he suckled first one breast, then the other. She couldn't move, didn't want to move, as heat spread down her body and deep between her legs. With her arms half pinned, all she could reach was his waist, and she clung to him, trying to draw him closer, wanting to be part of him.

His mouth and hands left her breasts, and she opened her eyes again. “Don't stop,” she begged, embarrassed at the keen wanting she heard in her own voice.

“I won't,” he returned almost soundlessly, taking the arms of her kimono and drawing them down her elbows, freeing her hands and then pushing the material down to her feet.

Kneeling, he continued his slow destruction of her susuyoke, ripping it inch by inch to her waist. Every inch of her skin that he exposed, he covered again with his mouth. Downward, past her navel, traveling down her hips, - kissing the small maroon birthmark shaped like a butterfly adorning the lower left side of it -, past the dark patch of hair at the apex of her thighs, to her knees.

“Lift your foot,” he instructed, and he slipped off her sock and geta, the kimono with it. Repeating the action with her other foot, he trailed his hands and mouth up again, up the insides of her thighs. And then he slipped a finger inside her.

“Oh, Kami,” she whimpered, her legs trembling.

“You're wet,” he murmured, licking his lips. “For me.”

“Sesshoumaru.”

“Shh,” he continued in the same husky tone, standing, gliding his hands up along her body to her shoulders so he could push off the ruined susuyoke, sending it to the floor with the rest of her clothes. “I want you, Kagome. I want to be deep inside you.”

Lifting her in his arms, he carried her the few feet to his futon and rumpled blankets, and knelt to lay her down there. He sat, turning sideways to pull of his haori and boots, wincing as the left one came free. “You're hurt,” she said unsteadily, trying to blink back to reality.

“My ankle is swollen,” he answered, facing her again. “You'll pay for that in a minute.” He had hurt himself when he sprinted and jumped after her.

“I-”

“You've caused swelling elsewhere, as well.” He undid his sash and with swift fingers unfastened the knots in his hakama. Shoving them down, he came free, erect and hard and very, very large.

“Oh, my.”

“Now you've seen your first and only naked male and aroused with wanting you,” he continued, leaning over her, taking her breast in his mouth again and suckling hard. He settled between her knees, kicking off his hakama and spreading her legs as he brought himself closer to her, until the swollen length of him pressed against the inside of her thighs.

“Sesshoumaru, please,” she managed, reaching up around his hard, muscled shoulders to pull him closer, her heart pounding so hard and fast she thought she would die from it.

“Please what? Say it, Kagome. I want to hear you say that you want me inside of you.”

“I want you inside of me.” She had no idea what to do to make that happen, but her body knew. Arching her hips, she lifted toward him. “Please,” she said again, “please, now.”

Lifting onto his hands, he covered her lips with his again, teasing her mouth open with his tongue. She felt him slide slowly inside her, between her legs. “It will hurt,” he murmured against her mouth, his own breath not quite steady.

“How-”

He pushed his hips forward. She felt him reach her barrier, then with a fast, tearing pain, break through and fill her. She shrieked, squeezing her eyes closed and arching against him, bending her knees harder. That brought him in deeper as he followed her retreat with his body. He held her to him, waiting, yet barely able to control himself as he nestled inside her. He murmured endearments, soothing her, and all the while fighting the guilt, wondering if he had made a mistake, gone too far, expected too much, been to impatient.

Slowly the pain eased. He felt her smile, her lips against his chest. When she opened her eyes he was looking down at her from inches away, red-eyed, his face hard with tension. “Pain for pain,” he whispered.

And then she... squirmed. “That feels so good,” she sighed.

He nearly choked. The shock lasted only a second, though, as the realization that she was not in pain crashed into him. Slowly he pressed forward again, deeper and deeper, until he was fully buried. “And now, pleasure for pleasure. We are going to take this very slowly. Very, very slowly.”

Was he murmuring to her or repeating an injunction to himself? His lips brushed hers, then slid along her jaw until he nuzzled her throat. His hands pressed down into the mattress, easing beneath her. They traced down her back, caressing as they went. They stopped at her hips, closing possessively.

He said nothing more, asked nothing more. It did hurt, but from the first touch of that incredibly soft skin at the entrance to her body, where she so longed to feel him, she knew she could not live without having him inside her ever again. The conviction was so strong that despite the discomfort, she tilted her hips to urge him in.

He stilled, fingers clamping hard about her hips, anchoring her. “No - just lie still.” The words were strained, uttered against her throat. He waited until she eased back before pressing inward once more. Slowly, steadily, he filled her. She felt her body stretching and marveled. Then he stopped. He lifted his head, found her lips, and kissed her deeply. She responded eagerly, breathless and yearning - quite for what, she was not sure. She had only an instant's warning - the sudden coiling tension that gripped him. He drew back and thrust into her.

His experience led; she realized that when he finally lifted his head. He looked down at her, red eyes glinting. His expression was one she'd never seen before, set and locked, passion-driven. He searched her face - she had no idea what he saw, but it seemed to reassure him. Bending his head, he set his lips to hers. Her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, she gave herself up to the kiss, up to him. Then he moved.

Until he did, the sensation of being so stretched, so filled, hadn't fully registered. As he withdrew, then returned, riding her slowly, the sensual realization impinged again and again. Her body stirred beneath him. She found his rhythm and matched him, rising to meet him. The effortless joining, the repetitive glide of his body into hers, became her reality. His body shifted against hers, crisp hair rasping her sensitized skin. She slowly heated as if he were fanning a furnace deep within her. Her senses swirled, whirled; the surge of his tongue into her mouth mirrored his possession of her body.

She was his - her fingers tightened, sinking into the muscles of his upper arms. She held tight as the world fell away and only they remained, skin to heated skin. Desire lapped, a warm sea washing over them, through them. He said it would be slow - she'd sense no urgency, not at first. But something - some compulsion, some blinding physical need - was steadily swelling inside her. Something hot, tight, coiling inside her - with every thrust he touched it, stoked it, fanned the flames higher.

Kagome drew back from the kiss with a gasp; pressing her head back, into the bed, she arched and struggled to breathe, struggled to urge him nearer. Deeper. She needed him there, deep and hard - suddenly she was sure of it. He rose up, arms bracing, lifting his chest from hers; his next thrust rocked her. She gasped again; her fingers trailed, nails sharp, down his chest. The smooth pale skin that brushed her palms contrasted and focused her mind on the feel of crisp hair rasping between her widespread thighs. Spreading her hands, she ran them over his ribs, then around - the heat inside her coiled tighter, almost painfully tight - she rose, hands sliding to his back, then clinging tight as she lifted her lips to his.

He took them in a kiss that was almost savage - his weight shifted. He leaned on one arm, his other hand curving over her bottom, tucking her hard against him, holding her there as he thrust deeply - again, again. The heat inside her exploded; her lower body clenched. A silvery sensation, brittlely intense, speared through her, and then the spasm dissolved in a burst of glory. A river of feeling welled and washed through her, soothing away her compulsive heat, leaving a different warmth in his place. She clung to him and rode the warm tide.

Sesshoumaru laid her down, then followed, but he rolled onto his side, then onto his back, taking her with him. She ended sprawled atop him with him still hard within her. She'd melted - she couldn't move. Resting her head on his chest, she lay and luxuriated in heavenly delight. How much time passed before her wits reengaged and she realized she still lay naked atop him, with his hand lazily, yet somehow intently, stoking her naked bottom, she didn't know. The realization was suddenly there, along with another - he was still hard within her, filling her. His body was still strung tight with that tension she now recognized. He hadn't...

Kagome lifted her head and looked into his face. He studied her eyes, then raised a brow. She blushed, grateful he could barely see it in the moonlight. “What now?” Presumably there was a next step.

His lips curved, his red eyes glinted. “I did say we'd take it slowly.”

Her skin was still heated, dewed where he caressed; in contrast, the air felt cool. She had felt relaxed to her toes, but tension was returning along with her wits. She licked her lips. “What does that mean?”

His wicked smile flashed, showing his perfect white fangs. “It's easier to demonstrate.”

He reached down and curled his hands around her thighs. He tugged, and she let him bend her knees up, shift her and mold her - she ended sitting astride him, knees bent, calves tucked to his flanks, hand on his chest, looking down at him. His face held more pain than smile as he lifted her hips slightly, then let her sink down again.

“Oo-oooh.” Exhaling slowly, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

“Does that hurt?”

“Hurt?” Opening her eyes, she looked down at him. She couldn't find words to describe how it felt. “It doesn't hurt.”

“Good.” He lay back, sinking deeper into the bed beneath her. “So do it again.”

She did, lifting up without his help, although his hands still rode her hips, guiding her. He would let her rise only so far before he stopped her. She sank down and watched his lids fall, watched desire deepen in each pore of his face. A new eagerness gripped her - she rode him slowly, concentrating on the feel of him pressing into her softness, concentrated on caressing him like that. It took everything in Sesshoumaru to relinquish control for inu youkai were beings that lived for dominance. But for her...

The tension investing his body increased; she felt it though her hands, through her thighs - saw it in his face. She was heating too. His hands left her hips to close over her breasts; his fingers played - her urgency grew.

Sesshoumaru was beyond reason, beyond ecstasy, at this moment. Then he rose beneath her and brought his mouth to her breasts. Sharp sensation speared her; she nearly died. Nearly saw rapture again. She clung desperately to her wits as he laved, sucked, teased. The wet spots felt cool against her burning skin.

One hand returned to her hip - he gripped and slowed her. Slowed her until she was nearly frantic, mindless with the need to take him deeper, harder, faster. She spread her thighs and pressed down on him. She rose again - he halted her and pressed her down. And took one turgid nipple into the hot wetness of his mouth and suckled. She cried out and plunged down, pressed him high inside her. Her world came apart, fragmenting into glimmering shards of rapturous wonder. They penetrated her skin, spread, and melted, until she was a mass of glowing heat with him hard and vibrant at the core. With a sob, she put her arms, around his shoulders, held his head to her breast, curled herself around him, and clung tight.

Gradually he moved back, drawing her down with him. His breathing was harsh in her ear. Every muscle in his body was locked tight.

How wonderful she was, and perfect. Intelligent. Creative. Passionate. Desirable.

Special beyond special.

“Doushite?” She whispered the word against his skin.

Sesshoumaru lay beneath her and couldn't think enough to form a coherent thought. “I wanted you more than once, but...” He lost the thread. She was hot and so tight around him. He brushed a kiss to her temple. “In a moment.” His voice was a gravelly rumble, almost hoarse with need.

He'd wanted her more than once, but she'd been untried, untutored. If he'd had his wicked way with her, he'd have had her many times, and she'd have cursed him in the morning. Instead, once inside her, he'd stayed deep, moderating the length and thus the force of his thrusts to minimize the abrasion and pressure to her delicate flesh. So he'd been able to enjoy having her come apart in his arms with him sunk inside her twice... thus far.

Lifting her, he withdrew from her, sliding from beneath her. She murmured, tried to clutch and hold him. He soothed her with a kiss along her back. “You have to do all I say, alright?”

She slumped onto her stomach. She hated taking orders, but right now...

“So what should I do?”

He reached for a pillow. “Absolutely nothing. It's my turn now.”

She lay boneless and let him lift her hips and stuff the pillow beneath them. He knelt between her legs and bent one of her slender limbs, nudging it to the side, knee almost level with her waist. Then he touched her, leaned over her, and slid home. Her breath fell from her in a gasping moan.

“Did that hurt?”

For one moment, Kagome felt her body stiffen. How she hated the feeling of someone breathing down her neck! Shutting her eyes tight, she pushed the horrible sensation and the haunting images away, trying to concentrate on the wonderful man that was kneeling behind her. The man that loved her for who and what she was. The one that didn't make her feel like a slave.

She shook her head and pressed back against him. He took what she offered, sinking deeper into her body. Arms braced, he lowered his head and dropped a kiss on her neck. “Just lie still and let me love you.”

She did - he would have thanked her if he'd been able to form the words. Instead, he thanked her with his body. She lay hot, naked, and completely open before him; he filled her, his hips pressed to her firm derriere, the smooth hemispheres, glowing palely in the moonlight. The curves caressed him, her body welcomed him, enclosing him in slick, sweet heat. The gardenia scent heightened by her arousal rose and wreathed through him; he drew it deep, and felt the beast within him slip its leash.

Beneath him, he felt her stir. She didn't move, but her body tightened about him. He reacted instinctively, pressing his hips to her bottom, thrusting deep, rotating just enough to lift her hips in a roll. She caught her breath and pushed back, then eased down again. He gritted his teeth, withdrew further, held back, then filled her slowly. He sank home, rolled, withdrew - she moaned.

Filled with feminine entreaty more primitive than words, the sound shredded his much-tried control. He let his youkai take control, unable to hold it back any more. He rode her hard, plunging even deeper; she met him, urging him on. He'd meant to be gentle, but she was wild and reckless - he responded in the same way.

She shattered beneath him in a climax so intense he felt it in his bones. She spasmed so hot and tight about him, he thought he'd lost his mind. He bit down on her neck marking her as his, lapping at the flowing blood that was now his life. Her blood surged through his veins and he felt the tremendous power that came with it. And then he came, howling his pleasure for all to hear, lost in paradise. Lost all touch with reality as he lost himself in her. Lost his soul to her heat, lost his heart to her.

Guided by his instincts, he flipped her over and using one of his claws, he made a cut above his collarbone. He reached down to cup her head and guide her. Until now, he hadn't noticed that her eyes were flashing between silver and lavender. But as soon as her hungry eyes fell on the dripping blood, she latched on to him and bit down instinctively. He growled softly in response sealing the mating mark upon both.

He'd meant to draw it out longer, punish her with his mounting, but when she'd come, pulling him in and pulsing so tight around him, he hadn't been able to hold back. He didn't lose control like that; not him, and not after all this time. No female made him feel that way. But she did. And he knew now what his youkai had known since it initially laid eyes on her: she was and would forever be the one perfect mate for him.

Good Kami! If that was what bedding a proper virgin was always like, he'd been missing out.

He withdrew and snuggled against her, her head upon his shoulder and keeping his other arm across her slender waist. His mind didn't want to function yet, but his youkai knew it didn't want her getting away from him. Not until they figured out some things. And not until he'd figure out what he needed to do next, beside make love to her again. Repeatedly.

“You marked me.”

“Did you not want me to?”

“After this, I would have killed you if you didn't,” she said, still a bit out of breath.

“Good.” He lifted himself on one crooked elbow. “Now, before we continue,” he said, loving the surprise in her face, “while I must admit that I almost did the same thing, why were going to kill yourself? If it was for me, let me tell you now, that I am not worth it. Your life is too important.”

She smiled, delicate fingers reaching up to trace his jaw. And he realized just what a perfect and open smile it was. It warmed him to know that she only smiled for him. “You are worth my life and so much more. But I was not going to kill myself.” He crinkled his brows in confusion. She continued. “It is a ritual performed by miko that involves the separation of the soul from the body in offering to save something of value to the miko. In this case, I offered my soul in exchange for the disappearance of the jewel from this world.”

“You made a wish on the jewel?” he asked still confused.

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