InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Confessions of a Western Lord ❯ Taken ( Chapter 2 )

I've finally got some ideas kicking for this story, but like I said before, I don't know how often I will update. Just a warning, however, the ideas I do have are all dark and angsty and probably along the lines of a death-fic.

 

Oh, and Sesshy's thoughts may seem a bit scattered and that none of it is

related at all, but it is. Oh, yes, it is. And a warning, too, Sesshoumaru has a bit of a thing for pain in here, but it's not that big. If that bothers you, don't read.

 

Episode 2: Taken

 

It has been three months since the last time I have felt his hands on mine. Five months is not a long time for a youkai as myself, barely enough to be noticed. Yet, for me, it has been torture.

 

There is something about that monk, that violet-eyed human, who has me craving his touch. He has placed a spell on me, a compulsion of some kind; that must be the only explanation for this pulling inside of me. I have told myself to stay away, that what he needs is not me, that what he desires is something else. I had hoped that by putting distance, some old part of me might return, back to before I allowed the monk to touch me and rule my heart.

 

However, I cannot seem to even obey myself any longer. I follow only these primal urges in me, these desires to be with the one that has captured every part of me.

 

Curse Miroku for doing this to me! For taking this inuyoukai and turning him into something barely worthy of the title lord. I have fallen hard, fallen so that it seems I may never rise again. Here I am, seeking out his presence after a five month absence because I crave his simple touch. Nothing else will do anymore.

 

Nothing.

 

I am watching their little group this very moment, sitting down amidst a small clearing of trees and preparing to rest for the night. The ningen woman, the one Miroku called Kagome, my brother's love, is cooking something strange over the fire. It smells revolting, and I want nothing to do with the odd stringy mixture.

 

The kit is running around with the fire cat and playing silly games as children are known to do. I have caught Rin on many occasions off in her own little world with made up creatures. Amusing, really.

 

And the demon slayer, the one that has stolen the heart of my monk, she is polishing that Hiraikotsu and sharpening its edges.

 

I know that both Inuyasha and Miroku know I am here. Their youkai awareness is far too toned to not know. I saw my half-brother's nose twitch, those familiar eyes darting in my direction before he settled down into his usual position high up in the branches of the tree. The monk is sitting by the fire, calmly chatting with both females, but he knows I am here. He knows I am watching.

 

I wonder what he thinks of my long absence, of the five-month time I have spent away.

 

Will he even come to me now? Will I have to fight for his attentions once more? And then I wonder, what have I come to?

 

A lord within his own right, worried for the interest of a human male, and a monk at that… although his morality leaves much to be questioned. I have observed his idea of exorcism. He would have made quite the devious demon.

 

And even as I stand here watching from my vantage point, my body is calling out to his. I can feel my blood rush; my finger's twitch, and spikes of arousal are spreading through me. I want to feel him again. My lips curl back in disgust, although I cannot deny the truth of my body. I have tried to ignore it, push it aside, as if it were all nothing, meaningless… to preserve my pride.

 

Still, it has been a long time since I dreamed. It has been centuries since I was a child in my own right, and yet, my sleep has been haunted lately. Haunted by thoughts of violet eyes and calloused hands, my body waking to a state of such advanced arousal that I can barely concentrate on anything but the lust and desire coursing through me.

 

I have years of training in disregarding my feelings but this was something I could not ignore. The way I have fallen for the monk is not something I could push aside or even fight away, and I know only two options are left to me. Either Miroku has to die… or he will have to come to me. After five months of naught but sleepless nights and scattered thoughts, I have come to this conclusion.

 

I can hear Rin and Jaken arguing behind me. He is teasing her again, of course, and she is steadfastly ignoring his words. I wonder why I have allowed this. First, the following of the human girl; she has become my ward even, and now, the desire of a human male.

 

Is my family cursed to harbor the humans?

 

“Sesshoumaru-sama.” Jaken is attempting to speak to me.

 

I give him but only a cursory glance. Times before I would not have even deigned to notice he was speaking, but as I said, something within me is changing. I do not like it. I have to know why, and the only answers lie within the monk.

 

I will wait here, in this spot. He will come after nightfall; it is always this way. I don't know what excuses he makes to them so that he can slip away or how he explains his lengthy absences, and frankly, I do not care.

 

“We will rest here for the night, Jaken. Find Rin something to eat,” I order knowing that I will be obeyed.

 

With that taken care of, I wander a fair distance away, though within hearing and smelling range to await the arrival of Miroku… if indeed he chooses to come.

 

* * *

 

It is late in the night when I hear the first faint sounds of someone approaching my position. I am instantly alert, not that I was sleeping to begin with. I can sense immediately that it is a ningen approaching and not an attacking youkai. It goes without saying that I know it is Miroku. I step out from behind a tree to come face to face with the man that had been haunting my sleep for five long months.

 

At the very sight of him, my body reacts as I knew it would. The familiar feeling of blood rushing through my veins as I begin to swell with the thought of things to come, and it is all just on sight.

 

“You have come,” he says simply as he is standing not but a foot away. Within reaching distance, should I decide to close the space between us.

 

“Yes,” I say simply, not feeling the necessity to say anything more.

 

A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, a mischievous grin that I have come to recognize as a sign of his impending lechery. So… I am not the only one that has been haunted by this… tryst of ours.

 

“I had thought you had forgotten about me, no longer seeking my company.”

 

I merely incline my head in acceptance of his words. “You have something I desire, after all.” If desire were this hungry feeling inside of me, this burning through my skin to be touched and bitten and this aching rush to be filled, then yes, he had something I desired.

 

That is the only warning that I give him before my hand darts forward, grabbing onto the front of his clothing and jerking him towards me. The arrogant monk is not even surprised by my actions as I force our lips together in a bruising, half-violent kiss. I can taste blood in the action; I believe he has bitten his lip with my forceful pull. The flavor only serves to heighten my lust.

 

I hear the dull thud as he thrusts that sharpened staff into the ground before both of his hands are on me, pulling at my clothing. I have taken the liberty of already removing my armor and Moko-Moko so that they do not interfere. I am a lord; I do not fear for my life without my armor.

 

His kiss becomes more forceful, just as aggressive as my mine as he pushes his tongue into my mouth, sucking on mine and nibbling at my lips. His hands jerk on the tie to my clothing, pushing it off my shoulders to pool at the ground at our feet. My own arm has busied itself by removing the many layers of clothing that he wears: the strange tie over his robes, the dark purple robes itself, and then the final layer.

 

I can feel his hands roaming over my bare chest, sliding down my skin, pinching and pulling as they travel. His lips leave mine, only to attack my throat, forcing my head backwards as his teeth graze over my neck, and his tongue leaves a hot trail down my flesh. He growls against my throat. That is the only warning I get before he pushes me down to the ground, and we land on top our abandoned clothing.

 

In the five months that had passed, I have nearly forgotten how very demonic he could be in his attentions. He is aggressive; he is passionate, and it makes my blood boil, my skin tingle. I gasp against his movements and finally give up trying to take back any sort of control. I lay back and allow him free reign, and I know that such a thing will bring me what I have been seeking.

 

He moves his tongue back to my face, running the wet appendage over my markings, a move which makes me shudder. In the same moment, he pushes down my pants, releasing my already hardened shaft to the cool, night air.

I am already leaking copious amounts, so very ready to be taken and claimed, to be brought to the heights of pleasure.

 

Miroku starts to murmur as he buries his face in my skin, licking and nipping at whatever he can touch. He grinds his naked body against mine, our erections brushing together and creating sparks of arousal that shoot right through me. I can't help but move against him, skin beginning to slick with sweat.

 

I trace my hand down his bared back, two lone claws just barely scratching his skin. He moans against my neck with that movement, the slight bit of pain only adding to his pleasure. Miroku moves sinuously against me, and

I can feel the proof of his arousal sliding along my thigh and hips, leaving behind slick trails of precum behind.

 

He pulls back, shoving two fingers into his mouth and swirling them about for a minute, violet eyes never leaving mine until he removes the wet appendages and aims straight for the hidden entrance between my legs. I moan like a wanton woman as he does so, and my legs spread of their own accord as the slickened fingers seek my aching entrance. I cannot understand it, how around him I begin to lose sense of myself in the painful desire to feel my body thrum with bliss.

 

One finger enters, quickly to be followed by the second. It has been a while, and

I can feel the slight burn of the intrusion, but that is quickly eclipsed by pleasure as he strokes both fingers along my prostrate, fierce jabbing motions meant to make me desire him… desire it more.

 

I growl ferociously, bucking up against his body and sliding my hardness along the planes of his chest, even as I seek more of that touch. His teeth and lips latch onto a peaked nipple, sucking gently before pulling the nub between his teeth and biting down in an almost animalistic manner. I moan and arch into the touch, his dominance and ability to mix pain and pleasure the perfect blend of everything I desire.

 

His fingers disappear from my entrance, and he repositions himself, the blunt head of his shaft pressing at my puckered muscle. Still, he does not enter just yet. I wrap my legs around his waist, encouraging him to continue as his violet eyes have darkened to the blue of the night sky, so overcome with lust he is.

 

I growl and reach up, grabbing his head and forcing him down into another kiss, tasting the blood when I bite his lip and moving my body against him at the same time.

 

“I am not one to tease, monk,” I say against his mouth, tightening my hold on his hair as I tangle my claws in the dark strands.

 

“I would never dare think to tease you, Lord Sesshoumaru,” he responds, and

I can tell by the tone of his voice he is mocking me. However, I am too lust driven to care as I growl again, rubbing impatiently down at the teasing shaft.

 

He shakes his head as he pushes down, lowering me back to the ground. “I'm not going to be tender,” he murmurs against my ear before curling a wet tongue around the elongated shell. “Because I know it is not what either of us wants.”

 

And with those words, he thrusts into me, his shaft slickened only by our combined precum. There is an instant pain, a hot fire racing through me, and my back arches. Nevertheless, it is good as well; it is mixed with the undeniable feeling of him sliding along my prostrate and sending sparks of arousal through my body so that it is almost as if my form were confused. My claws dig into his back as he pulls out, only to thrust in with equal force as before.

 

I can hear his labored breathing, and the slight gasping motions as his body shudders, enjoying the act as much as I do.

 

In all my years of existence, there is only one time that I have ever felt truly alive, during the midst of battle with war singing in my veins and the blood of my enemies at my feet. When I am taken by the call of war and a sword in my hand, I don't realize the extent of my being.

 

But now, with him here inside me, filling me with a pleasure that I've rarely experienced, I can feel that same stirring, that same realization that I am alive and not merely existing. Why is it that he can remind me of the way to live, a demon who will survive many years after he is gone?

 

Why does this feeling supersede nearly all of my other desires?

 

He sets up a driving pace, nearly forcing my body down into the ground with each movement as my legs tighten around his body. I push him down towards me with my one hand, meshing our bodies together and trapping my arousal between us. The feel of his skin on mine, slickened with sweat and the heat of our movements, causes me to gasp, especially when he curls his tongue over that sensitive spot of my neck and dots kisses over my markings.

 

There is fire of a sort running through my body, lightning racing across my skin, and my cheeks flush with heat. I begin to nip at his neck and shoulder lightly, really any part of him that I can reach. He sort of shudders with each touch, moaning more as I tighten down on him, the slight pain accompanying it only heightening my pleasure.

 

He increases the rate of his thrusts, the both of us building to a crescendo. My neglected arousal is rubbing along the planes of his belly, pinned between our writhing bodies. It is all the stimulation I need as he relentless rubs against that pleasurable gland. He is murmuring in my ear, as he always does at this moment, and one hand, the one with the kazaana, grasps at the dirt just above my head.

 

I wonder how it has come to this: allowing myself to be taken by a human and then far worse, to share him with another. I am a lord, an assassin, a terribly feared youkai, and yet, I allow this to continue. He should be mine… and mine alone!

 

The hot fire that has built in my belly begins to coil and twist with my impending orgasm. The whole of me begins to shudder, and I growl fiercely before latching onto the tender skin of his shoulder, just beneath his collarbone, and bite down. Orgasm rips through me, my body bucking up into his as he gasps with both the force of my bite and the feel of me rhythmically pulsating around him. I can feel blood seeping into my mouth and under the claws of my hand, but he doesn't seem to mind terribly.

 

With a final gasp, he shudders and collapses on top of me, our bodies heaving to draw a breath as we struggle to come down from our climaxes. I remove my fangs from his shoulder, licking my lips to remove any traces of the blood and eye the wound cautiously. It is shallow but will heal and will be easily covered by his heavy robes. It seems pain is not an issue for him either. Perhaps this is why I continue to go to him. He is the only one outside of other demons, of which I have no respect for, who can give me what I need without turning it into a blood bath.

 

With a small grunt, he pulls himself from my body with only the slightest bit of sting and rolls over, removing his weight from atop me. I can tell with just a small shift that I am in desperate need of a bath, although the hot springs near my home are too far a distance at this point. Thankfully, I can smell the waters of a fresh, albeit cold, spring nearby.

 

He gingerly touches the wound on his shoulder with a slight grimace. I do not bother to apologize as he winces slightly before shrugging it off, mouth curling up into a grin.

 

"Can't you just heal it with a lick?"

 

I frown and narrow my eyes. "No."

 

He laughs lightly, violet eyes shining. I wonder how long it took before he no longer feared me... if he even did to begin with. The laugh is followed by a yawn.

 

"Oh, well... I'll just keep it as proof then."

 

I do not respond, choosing instead to look away, lip curled into a frown as I begin thinking. I feel the wandering of his hand onto my buttocks, and I resist the urge to shake my head as he gropes me without shame.

 

"Ah," he comments. "If only this monk had the slightest bit more of energy…" This is accompanied by another yawn as his hand moves from its place. He is not in the least bothered by my lack of speech. Have we truly become this comfortable in one another's presence… well, as comfortable as one such I can be?

 

Not but a few seconds pass before I hear the evened breathing of him slipping into slumber. He always sleeps so quickly, as if in the act of orgasm, his strength leaves him as well. It is something that I will never understand.

 

I get up from the pile of clothing and limp into the surrounding forest, seeking out the river that I had scented earlier. I care nothing for my nudity, my youkai telling me that there are no foes present. A few minutes later, I find myself at the silvery trail of water. I gingerly step into the cool liquid before I begin rinsing of my body of the creamy, white fluid.

 

There is a rustle in the trees above me before I hear an undignified but very characteristic snort. A familiar scent wafts in my direction.

 

“Hypocrite.”

 

So, he has finally chosen to speak to me. “I have no need to explain myself to you,” I respond simply. I know that he will not attack me here as I am now, just as I know I will not attack him. There is an unspoken truce when I lie with the monk, and for now, it will suffice.

 

“Feh.” Inuyasha snorts once more. I can feel his eyes on me, but I do not even grant him my own resentful glare. “Leave him alone. He's not yours to have.”

 

And should I give him to the human female then? The very one that drove him to me in the first place? I should think not.

 

“We shall see,” I respond simply before continuing to rinse my body with the cool, stream water.

 

There is another rustle of the leaves. "And you even allowed him to take you. Has the great Sesshoumaru become weak?" He is goading me on purpose.

 

Perhaps he is jealous? I cannot say. Does he want the monk for himself? Or is it because I would deign to lie with a human before I would accord Inuyasha some respect?

 

"Jealousy does not become the son of a great lord, even if he is but a half-breed," I respond simply before rising to my feet, not ashamed at all of my nakedness as I half turn towards where glittering amber eyes are glaring down at me from a perch in a tree as was his usual.

 

"Shut up!" snarls Inuyasha. "You don't know anything, stupid bastard. Stop playing around with humans and go back to your high pedestal."

 

I raise an elegant brow. "Is there a reason you have made yourself this human's proverbial knight?"

 

He flusters, the leaves shaking as he angrily turns about in his tree and drops down to the ground in front of me, standing up and tall and attempting to seem proud.

 

"I don't care for that damned, lecherous monk. My only concern is for Sango."

 

I turn from him without any sort of dismissal. I do not believe that he will strike me in the back because, fool that he is, my brother has a certain code of honor, though it is somewhat tainted by the same code of the humans. I am planning to head back to my clothing and the sleeping monk. Though rest is not absolutely necessary, I find something within me has missed lying next to Miroku.

 

However, I will not leave without some parting words.

 

"Then it is the woman demon slayer that you are a knight for. Interesting, my brother, not one but two female ningen. Father would be proud." The reproach was evident in my tone. "Take to your own issues before you enter into mine. It is his decision to come to me, and that is where I will leave it."

 

He snorts again but does not respond. I leave him behind, returning to the small clearing of trees where I have left my weapons, clothing, and an undressed sleeping monk. Inuyasha, fool that he is, has a valid point. So long as this Sango exists, I will never have Miroku to myself. I will have to continue skulking about in the shadows with secrecy like some common thief.

 

The only question now is… what am I to do about the situation? Will I continue to allow my life to be dictated by the monk's choices, or will I show the truth of my rule and take what is rightfully mine?

 

As I lie back down next to the monk and his sleeping form, I know that the time has come for decisions to be made. Things cannot continue as they are.

 

And our fate lies on my decision alone.

 

* * *

 

Getting darker isn't it? And different than anything I've ever read about the two, that's for sure. Obsession can be a dangerous thing.