InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Enemy of My Enemy ❯ The Trigger ( Chapter 3 )

(AN) I want you to pay careful attention to how Sesshoumaru's thinking changes throughout the next chapter. I think that's where the 'romance' comes in. Don't you just love psychological erotica? ^_^

Disclaimer: Not mine. The plot, if you choose to call it that, is about the only thing that is mine. And I'm just shameless enough to claim it! ;-D

Thanks!

Enemy of My Enemy

The Trigger

He pulled away from her and she whimpered, shaking her head so that silky wisps of hair clung to her cheek and brow. Sesshoumaru's hand paused, and he watched the miko struggle against her binds, not in an attempt to escape, but to get closer to him. She was attractive for a human, even beautiful, but as a wanton thing---she was radiant. Glowing with a ferocity and sensuality that actually caused his hand to start shaking as it gripped the edge of his armor. He wanted to cease with the frivolities and lift her up against the wall, shove himself inside her until she screamed, until she broke in his grip, or passed out. The beast of his nature pawed at him from the inside out, but he was not ruled by such primitive things. Steadying his hand, he set the armor aside, gently, not wishing to attract her attention to his movements.

His kimono and the rest of his garments joined it on the floor, a neat pile that contrasted nicely with the chaos that was trying to erupt from inside him. He moved back to the captive girl, and observed her as she relaxed yet again in her binds. Her breath had slowed to a steady pace, a hushed intake and release of air.

Reaching up, above her bound hands, he ran his fingers lightly over the cord, melting it with his caustic poison. The cord snapped, and the miko gasped as she fell against him, her face pressing into warm, firm flesh. Her legs collapsed out from under her and she fell to her knees before he caught both her wrists and held her upright. Not bothering to undo her hands, Sesshoumaru lowered her gently to the floor, laying her out on her back.

Her tied, yet free hands immediately moved as one to pull at the blindfold, but he growled deep in his throat, catching her hands and forcing them down again. He didn't want her to see him yet, to know who was touching her and bringing her to such heights of sensation. If she thought he was Inuyasha, then let her think it. Once she was writhing beneath him he would rip the blindfold away, watch her big brown eyes grow impossibly wide with the knowledge of who and what was inside her. It would be too late for her to say no then.

His claws still pressed against her hands, he raised them back up, his fingers caressing gently against the wounds. She flinched as his tongue licked roughly across where the cord had rubbed her skin raw, rolling in the congealing blood and bringing more to trickle out. He slowly undid the knots and laid each of her hands individually on the floor.

From there he moved to her slightly stained shirt, his first touch falling on the skin just above her collar. Sliding his claws down, they caught on the thin material, pulling it taut from her body. The cloth resisted, but he brought his hand down, ripping right through the front and letting it fall in two pieces about her torso. She yelped, and her fingers scratched against the floor, though they did not move to protect her.

Sesshoumaru paused at the garment now obstructing his eyes. He fingered the lace and the girl rose up against his touch, moaning her approval, but he frowned. He had never seen such a thing before.

Seeming to finally grasp his hesitation, Kagome licked her lips and whispered, "It-uh, it unhooks in the front." Her hands, though shaking, moved to demonstrate. But Sesshoumaru caught one of them and slammed it down, hard enough to let her know she was not allowed to move until instructed.

The miko cried out, a sharp sound of surprise just barely edged by hurt. But her hands remained at her sides.

He cut the odd garment away, too, and her small, young breasts spilled free of their binds. He cupped one in his hand, feeling its weight and softness. He palmed the nipple slightly until it peaked, then knelt over her, licking over the erect bud in one quick line. She bowed up, as if some trigger had been struck inside her. Her hands rose off the floor, but they stopped in mid-air. Curling them into fists, she slammed them back down again, harder than he had done. The action actually caught him slightly off-guard.

His tongue ran over the sharpness of his canine teeth, an absent gesture as he stared down at the petite girl laid out willingly before him. He was done playing.

Wrapping his hand carefully around her waist, he urged her up. She followed, climbing shakily up and leaning heavily against his grip as he pulled the remainders of her blouse away. She settled onto her hands and knees, her head hanging down so that her dark hair trailed across the floor.

She was virginal and modest, but not stupid. The way she trembled and braced herself against the floor told him in no uncertain terms that she knew what was coming. The fact the she seemed acceptant and submissive to that knowledge was what puzzled him. The only thing he could figure was that she still thought he was Inuyasha. The farther along in the game they got, the less he liked that idea.

But he couldn't think on it long. The shadowed lines of her body called forth similar dreams he had carried with him for so long. The dip in her lower back as she leaned upon her arms, the subtle way her shoulders shook, the way her fingers curled against the floor. Her breathing. The soft sound of her breath going in and out of her body. He had dreamed of this. Of not only taking her, but her wanting him to.

His hand reached out and smoothed along her back, up to the base of her neck, then down again. Her skin was flush, soft beneath his touch. A stray ebony tress clung to her shoulder blade, and he brushed it aside, leaned forward and placed a small kiss where it had been.

His hair fell over his shoulder and swept across her naked body. Pausing, he started to push the veiling length out of his way, when the miko's head jerked up. She gasped.

Sesshoumaru stared at her, frozen in place. But then a small, knowing smile came to his face. Sitting up slowly, he dragged the mass of silver across her exposed back, until the ends fluttered down along her side and settled innocently on the floor.

Her head hung even lower, nearly pressed against her wrists as her hands lay palm-flat beneath her. She mewled, a peculiar and softly animalistic sound that told him that---if he tried her now, she would *not* deny him.

His body was ready, but he knew that hers was not. Virginal, there would be resistance when he first penetrated her, but he did not know how to prevent, or even lessen it. He was shocked to realize that he truly wanted to, that he truly cared about her pleasure and not just his own. His claws were too dangerous a weapon to place near so tender an area, he could not touch her, could not prepare her for the shock of his body entering hers.

The thought of the pain she would feel stopped him, and he asked himself if he should just back off. Leave the girl as whole and pure as she had first appeared to him.

She whimpered again, the low, throaty sound going from anticipatory and shy to impatient. She had a mouth, the means to speak, he wondered, would she beg him if he waited long enough? He didn't think so.

Taking his fully aroused length in his own hand, he pressed between her thighs, rubbing in circles to try and spread her wetness across him. Finding her opening slick and dilated, he leaned forward and started to gently push in.

Had he possessed both his arms, the process may have been more steady and graceful, but he hadn't tried to mate since he lost his arm. His keen sense of his own body and its limitations helped, but it could only take him so far. Once again, he cursed his brother. Not for being born or being half-human, but for being in his mind at such a private moment.

The girl beneath him reflexively started shying away, unused to the new pain. Her young body contracted around him, trying to stretch to accommodate such a foreign length inside her. A small hurt-noise crawled out of her throat, and the scent of salt suddenly stabbed into his awareness. The miko wiped tears on the blindfold, her hands, pressing her face into her scraped wrists and accidentally smearing blood across her chin.

Sesshoumaru stopped. He had to. He hadn't even fully penetrated her and she was in such pain. He shook his head and started to draw back. He couldn't just sit there and listen to her cry, and still continue.

To his utter shock, she bucked back against his hips, taking all of him in one deep stroke. She cried out, a sharp shriek of pain that struck him, hit him as if she had pierced him with one of her purifying arrows.

Her body tightened around him, twitching, tiny shivers of pleasure even as his breath quickened with echoes of her pain. Instantly he felt guilty, and in the same instant he felt rage at that guilt. She was a bitch, a means to an end, he didn't care if she enjoyed their encounter or not! So long as he got what he wanted!

Which is why he leaned over and placed apologetic kisses along her spine. Why he buried his nose in her hair and rubbed it in comforting circles. He berated himself, but he couldn't seem to stop.

After a few moments of petting and stroking at the tangled locks of her hair, the miko began to settle beneath him, began to quiet and relax. He experimentally drew himself out in one slow line, and she shuddered, her head shaking as she whimpered.

Pain, she was still in pain. But they had gotten through the most trying part, from now on it would only get better for her. He had to keep telling himself this just to continue. Placing his hand on her hip, lightly so as not to pierce her fragile human skin with his claws, he steadied her against him and slowly began moving in and out.

Her warmth tingled, squeezed around him, and he was so lost in his own sensations that he wasn't sure when her soft cries had turned from pain to a strange sort of surprise, to pleasure. He knew only that the sound made his stomach twist and his pace quicken.

He panted, his hand moving from her hip to smooth up her spine. Taking a handful of hair, he pressed down on her head, forcing her cheek against the floor, and her hands to stretch out along the ground. She yelped as the action opened her legs more to him and he trust deeper, harder. Enough to jar her forward. The impact was audible, wet, the sound of skin on skin.

She was nearing climax, but he wasn't going to let her go yet. He pulled back in one abrupt movement, grasped her by her left shoulder and spun her onto her back. Her legs fell on either side of him, her arms spread across the floor. He knelt between her legs and stared at her covered eyes. Slowly he smoothed his palm up her body, starting at her hip and sliding it across her stomach, her ribs. His clawed hand cupped over her breast, and she arched up into the touch, but he didn't stop there. His fingers traced lightly over her throat, up the side of her face. She nuzzled at him, licking at his palm.

He slid one claw carefully between the thin cloth of her blindfold and her equally fragile skin. He did not move.

His body screamed at him, told him to finish what he started before he revealed himself to her. But he wanted her to know who he was, no longer out of spite or some sense of misplaced revenge, but for reasons he did not understand. Bringing that one finger up, he slowly ripped through the cloth, watching it fall away numbly. He braced himself for her surprise, her rage...her fear. He felt sick inside even as the pleasurable sensations of their joining still shivered up and down his body.

Her dark eyes blinked open, unfocused. Slowly he watched her pupils adjust to the little light that filled the nearly empty room. Her stare fell on him, and it widened, but not in the way he had expected.

She raised a hand and brushed a lock of silver hair from his bare shoulder. "You are so beautiful." Her face flushed pink a moment, but then she smiled. A womanly curve to her reddened lips, an expression filled with some secret power. He found himself speechless before that fully matured look of desire.

She wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled herself up, pressed her mouth against his. She licked across his chin, his lips, wound her arms around his neck as he continued to stare dumbly at the floor. She ran her tongue along the shell of one of his pointed ears, then lower, dragging her teeth across the sensitive skin at the base of his throat.

He moaned, not caring how the sound bounced off the empty corners and seemed to echo in his own head. This was more than he had ever expected from her. Knowing who he was, and for her to willingly touch me...no, she wanted to touch him. He hadn't even gone so far as to dream of this.

Catching her wrist in one hand, he untangled her body from his and lowered her to the floor gently. Moving his hand down he carefully cupped it around the underside of her thigh, lifting her up and pulling her back towards him. Her legs spread further around him and she pushed up with her feet, rubbing against him in slow, maddening circles.

Sesshoumaru swallowed back a growl of satisfaction and leaned forward, bracing himself to hover over her on his arm. Again, he longed for the previous perfection he had before, when his body was whole. Even if it was only so he could hold himself over her and run his fingers through her beautiful dark hair, caress her face and hold it to him as he kissed her.

Seeming to read his eyes, she rose up on her elbows and parted her lips against his, tilting her head so she could coax her tongue into his mouth, then suck sensually on his.

He drew back reluctantly from her kiss, sliding his hand down her body once more. Her eyes followed the movement, dark, heated, even as he wrapped his fingers around his own length. With a small smile he stroked himself, pulling the flesh taut as her eyes widened. Her face flushed yet again, but when she finally looked up at him there was no shyness. His throat constricted with the raw look of emotion on her face.

Reaching up she guided him back to her, wrapping her legs around his waist as if to anchor herself. Entering her a second time was much smoother, her body was wet, soft as silk gliding against his flesh. He pressed in to the very end, watching as she writhed beneath him, her fingers digging into his shoulder as her legs tightened vice-like around him. Her head lifted back, her chin up, and she made some sound that was less of a moan and more of a purring gasp from deep within her chest.

He watched the pleasure flit across her face as he moved slowly within her, knowing it was real because she couldn't hide her emotions. He didn't know if his face was so expressive, he was half-afraid it was.

His eyes widened as she used her grip on his shoulders to pull herself up, the action causing her inner muscles to squeeze tighter around him. Her hands slid across his shoulders, his back, securing her hold on him, she settled into his lap. With her feet pressing against the floor, she opened her eyes and gazed at him. That was the only word for it. He was almost certain his surprise was plain on his usually guarded face.

Whatever she saw encouraged her, for she rose up in one motion, nearly drawing him out of her completely then sank back down. They cried out in unison, and her arms wrapped tighter around his neck. She began to rock in his lap, driving her hips hard against his.

Unprepared for her sudden fervor, he fell back, nearly pulling her down too. She braced herself against him, her palms flat on his chest as she panted. Not bothering to stop at this new position, she rose up and continued to ride him, her body swaying above his in some quick, fluid dance.

Sesshoumaru was then the one writhing on the floor, his silver hair tangled about his shoulders and face. His claws gripped into the floor, splintering it even. He thrust up into her soft warmth, having to work at keeping up with the pace she had set.

She came with a cry, throwing her head back so that her dark hair spilled in a wave down her back. He found himself falling without warning into his own orgasm, only seconds later, pushed into it by the sight and sound of her pleasure, and maybe even the scent of it too. His seed spilled into her in spurts as her muscles constricted around him, squeezing one last startled whimper from his lips. He was too caught up in the sensations of his body to care that such a noise had come from him.

She collapsed forward onto his chest, boneless, warm, her breathing just as ragged as his. Grasping her waist he rolled her into the crook of his arm, splaying his hand lightly across her hip. The strength of her climax continued to shake through her body, but she curled in against his side, burrowing her face into his shoulder and placing tiny, half-open butterfly kisses there.

But Sesshoumaru was staring up at the shadowed ceiling, a dark expression ruining some of the warm glow to his gold eyes. He had finally touched her, tasted her, possessed her...but where he had thought it would bring his suffering to an end, he now knew it wasn't to be so. For at that singular moment of orgasm, when all walls crashed and all lies were forgotten in the tide of sensation...one thought had chanted through his mind.

He loved her.

TBC...

Okay, anybody get bored? That was a little long for a sex scene, but there were a lot of levels of their 'relationship' that I had to wade through. I mean, Sesshoumaru changes throughout the entire chapter, and I couldn't rush that. So, what do you think? Should it be cut down? Scrapped completely? Does anybody like it???