InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Even the Wicked ❯ Even the Wicked ( One-Shot )
Even the Wicked
By: EvilNekoEatsYourSoul
Disclaimer: Well, technically I didn't put the names of any Inuyasha character in here. . . Well, I did use one and the people involved in this fic are from Inuyasha or so I imagined while I was writing it. In any case they are the creation of Rumiko Takahashi.
Author's note: This is a lemon, it contains `adult situations' and should not be read by minors. Haha… okay enjoy. Also, I know I should be working on my two fics, but I'm having a slight case of writers block and so I wrote this because it was plaguing my mind and I thought if I cleared it from my head then maybe I could get back on track.
^_^
"You're a demon, you know that? Absolutely evil."
His hands stopped their caressing motions on her back as he held her. A whisper, breathy and warm brushed against her ear.
"I'm not evil, just realistic," he purred, his tongue flicked her earlobe.
A frown creased her brow and she shut her eyes, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. It made her look confused and innocent and he found it utterly pleasing. His hands slid beneath the hem of her shirt, moving from her hips up, he could feel the ridges of her ribs and was reminded of how small and delicate she was. Her hands, small and dainty, clutched at his shirt as if holding on for dear life, or perhaps he made her knees so weak with desire that if she let go she would fall.
"This isn't right. We shouldn't be doing this; I shouldn't be doing this," Her words were ignored, he wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. But he would not be swayed from his course of action. He always took what he wanted regardless of the consequences.
A shiver passed through her as his fingers found the edge of her bra, his hands working on the clasps under her shirt.
"Please. . .," she murmured, "stop, this isn't right. I told them I'd come straight home after school. . ."
He didn't stop, her pleas were only half heard and even the words that filtered through were brushed carelessly aside. She made no effort to move away and so he continued. The clasps of her under garment came apart and he moved his hands from her back to her chest. There was a gasp as his fingers curled around her bare breasts, between her loosened bra and her flesh.
Her skin was soft and smooth, warm to the touch and begging to be stimulated. He bent his head to nip at her neck. There was a panicked edge in her voice as her hands flew up to frame his face.
"Don't! It'll leave a mark. I shouldn't be doing this," she repeated, "You're a bad person."
She could feel him smirk against her neck, his tongue licked at the sensitive skin and he began to suck at the flesh there. All the while his hands caressed her breasts, brushing against her erect nipples and squeezing the heavy orbs of flesh.
By now her breathing was labored and her knees threatened to buckle, her hands tangle and lightly tug at his long silver hair. Her chocolate colored eyes were hidden from the world as they closed tightly. After a few minutes he pulled his mouth away from her throat, placing a kiss on the mark he had left before beginning to nibble on her earlobes.
His large, long fingered hands slid down her abdomen, feeling the muscles jump in response. They continued downwards, past the hem of her skirt and traveling back up over her thighs and under her clothing. He was met with her cotton panties and tugged at them until they fell down her long legs to stop at her ankles. Kneeling before her he was able to look up the rather short skirt and licked his lips in anticipation of tasting her. But first, he beckons for her to lift first one leg and then the other so that he can completely remove her discarded underwear. He pockets the white cotton before pushing her skirt up to give him better access to her glistening womanhood.
She began to tremble. Moving to push him away, she crossed her legs to deny him access but when his hands slid up her legs, past the sensitive skin behinds her knees, up her thighs and rested firmly on her smooth bottom, she became distracted. He buried his nose in her curls and nudged at her legs, telling her to part them for him. There was a moment of indecision, of guilt and she was motionless, thinking about all the warnings she had been given about men such as him and the dishonorable, wanton actions she was displaying. Warm breath brushed against the hidden jewel between her thighs and they parted automatically, all thoughts of morals and rules were gone. Chased away by the demon posing as a man before her.
Not waiting for any further indication, he dove in. His tongue lapped at the moisture gathered between the lips of her opening, it brushed over her clitoris and her thighs clamped around his head, pressing against his ears, drowning out her soft moans. He holds on firmly to her hips as he works beneath her skirt.
Her hands yank at the hem of her own shirt as if she wants to tear the cloth apart. No longer able to hold herself up, she leans against a wall. It's becoming more difficult to keep her voice low enough so that they are not heard and she bites down on her lip and her eyes are squeezed tightly shut. Her hips buck as first one finger slides within her folds and then another, a scream nearly escapes her as his mouth covers her sensitive pearl.
There is a knock at the door and her heart jumps in her chest, she is sure that the door will fly open and her parents will walk in and reprimand her, her friends will come next and look at her like she is the most disgusting creature on earth. But she doesn't pull away, his fingers are still moving in and out of her and he barely glances at the door before speaking. His voice, as always, is calm and gives away nothing of what he is feeling.
"What is it?" he calls out, his golden eyes meet her brown ones and he licks his lips, his fingers are flexing inside of her.
"Higurashi called, she said to remind you about our lunch meeting. It starts in twenty minutes."
She almost groans when he removes his fingers, but holds it back, afraid that whoever is standing outside the door will hear her. The thought of anyone finding them like this makes her cheeks flush scarlet. Seeing this, he raises a delicate eyebrow questioningly as he licks her juices from his fingers, sucking on them before answering.
"Alright, twenty minutes is more than enough time. I'll see you there," he yells, still facing her, he puts his fingers against her lips. She parts them as he places the moist digits in her mouth. Her lips close around them and his other hand is pushing her skirt further up.
"Okay, just don't be late again!" the anonymous coworker calls out, before his retreating footsteps are heard.
Her shaking hands work at his belt buckle as he leads her towards the desk in the center of the office. He becomes impatient with her fumbling movements and removes it himself as he unzips his pants and undoes the button. In one swift motion, he pulls both his pants and his boxers down. Warm, feminine fingers encircle his erect length, but there isn't much time so he pushes her down onto the already cleared desk.
Without anymore preamble, he thrusts into her, deep and hard and completely pleasurable. Pushing her shirt up, he begins to suck and bite at her pink nipples as he continues to move inside of her. His length slides in and out, over and over again. There are only the sounds of labored breathing and moist flesh sliding against flesh. Her hand goes down between them and begins to rub the bundle of nerves just beneath her curls. His thrusts are becoming more frantic, short and jerky as he nears his climax. In a matter of moments he goes over the edge and he comes, his member twitching and spurting in her. Then her inner walls clamp around his softening length indicating that she too has reached her finish.
He recovers quickly, pulling out of her and gathering his underwear and pants while she is still lying atop his desk panting. Her chest heaves as if it is a labor to draw in breath and he smirks with male pride. It takes a few minutes for her collect her wits. Holding her shirt up, she turns her back to him and he fastens her bra together. Slowly, as if she is afraid, she turns around to face him.
"You should get cleaned up before you go home. After all, you wouldn't want your parents to suspect something," he says, fixing his tie.
She glares, her wonderfully innocent looking chocolate eyes narrowing.
`Why do I keep doing this?' she asks herself, out loud she says, "You really are wicked."
The grin he wears is a double-edged blade. It makes her angry so that she wants to slap him, but it is also alluring and seductive, it beckons her to the pleasures he can create and perhaps that is why she always returns his calls.
"Even the wicked are entitled to their pleasures."
Ultimately he knows that the wicked are drawn to those things that are pure and innocent and vice versa. So perhaps she is correct after all, though he doubts it. She huffs and opens the door, slipping discreetly out of his office and towards the exit. Grabbing his jacket, he puts his free hand into his pocket as he walks to his meeting. The entire time, his fingers play with the bit of white cotton she left behind.
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