InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Collected Works ❯ In Pieces (2 of 2) ( Chapter 20 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: LuxKen27 
Written for LJ community "iyissekiwa" #65 Trail prompt
Summary: Sesshoumaru’s façade finally crumbles.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.04.2008 | Updated On: 01.30.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 398 | Visits: 1.2K | Status: Work In Progress
Written for LJ community "iyissekiwa" #65 Trail prompt
Summary: Sesshoumaru’s façade finally crumbles.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.04.2008 | Updated On: 01.30.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 398 | Visits: 1.2K | Status: Work In Progress
Title: In Pieces
Author: LuxKen27
Genre: Drama
Universe: Canon
Rating: M
Warning: (Explicit?) Sex
Word Count (250 max): 232
Summary: Sesshoumaru’s façade finally crumbles.
Inspired by: iyissekiwa prompt #65, “Trail”
**NOTE:** This piece was deemed too “adult” for this particular community, so it was not officially entered into the weekly contest.
Author’s Note: Part 2 of 2.
Disclaimer: The Inuyasha concept, story, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media.
Author: LuxKen27
Genre: Drama
Universe: Canon
Rating: M
Warning: (Explicit?) Sex
Word Count (250 max): 232
Summary: Sesshoumaru’s façade finally crumbles.
Inspired by: iyissekiwa prompt #65, “Trail”
**NOTE:** This piece was deemed too “adult” for this particular community, so it was not officially entered into the weekly contest.
Author’s Note: Part 2 of 2.
Disclaimer: The Inuyasha concept, story, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media.
~*~
Wrong.
Claws trailed through her hair, sending a delicious thrill shimmering down her spine.
Illicit.
Hands skimmed across the smooth skin at his waist, warmth meeting warmth under thin layers of royal silk.
Wicked.
She couldn’t suppress the soft moan of desire that escaped as his lips moved across the base of her neck.
Sinful.
Anticipation bloomed in the pit of her stomach as his hands grasped her thighs, fingers sliding under her skirt. There was something different –
– urgent –
– thrilling –
about his actions. After all this time – had she finally found his limit?
Forbidden.
“Leave me,” he whispered hoarsely, even as their bodies hovered in intimate approximation. She could feel it, the physical manifestation of his desire for her. So close…
“No,” she protested, tightening her grip across his shoulders, pressing herself ever closer. “Don’t deny me…or yourself.”
Tantalizing.
His breath was harsh against her cheek, his hands firm as they held her just beyond the point of ultimate pleasure. She could feel his heart racing, nearly in cadence with her own.
“I am not my father,” he muttered, attempting to hold onto the last vestiges of resistance.
Alluring.
“And I am not your mother,” she returned, her tongue darting out, caressing the pliant skin just below his earlobe. He exhaled sharply in response, his hold slipping slightly, enough to give her hope –
“Dammit,” he groaned, and she knew she had won.
Claws trailed through her hair, sending a delicious thrill shimmering down her spine.
Illicit.
Hands skimmed across the smooth skin at his waist, warmth meeting warmth under thin layers of royal silk.
Wicked.
She couldn’t suppress the soft moan of desire that escaped as his lips moved across the base of her neck.
Sinful.
Anticipation bloomed in the pit of her stomach as his hands grasped her thighs, fingers sliding under her skirt. There was something different –
– urgent –
– thrilling –
about his actions. After all this time – had she finally found his limit?
Forbidden.
“Leave me,” he whispered hoarsely, even as their bodies hovered in intimate approximation. She could feel it, the physical manifestation of his desire for her. So close…
“No,” she protested, tightening her grip across his shoulders, pressing herself ever closer. “Don’t deny me…or yourself.”
Tantalizing.
His breath was harsh against her cheek, his hands firm as they held her just beyond the point of ultimate pleasure. She could feel his heart racing, nearly in cadence with her own.
“I am not my father,” he muttered, attempting to hold onto the last vestiges of resistance.
Alluring.
“And I am not your mother,” she returned, her tongue darting out, caressing the pliant skin just below his earlobe. He exhaled sharply in response, his hold slipping slightly, enough to give her hope –
“Dammit,” he groaned, and she knew she had won.