InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Finding Kagome ❯ Chapter 24 ( Chapter 24 )

DISCLAIMER: I do not own InuYasha and company, however I DO own an overactive imagination...

 

WARNING: This chapter contains LEMON

 

 

 

Finding Kagome

 

 

Chapter Twenty Four

 

 

 

 

 

The room hadn't been used for months, not since her cousin from the city had spent a weekend back in the fall. Miranda stood quietly in the open doorway of her spare bedroom, watching her strange guest sleeping. He had simply collapsed on top of the bed, not even bothering to pull down the spread. Her need to comfort him had been so strong, yet she simply could not bring herself go beyond an offer shelter and conversation. He was an angry being, this Kouga. There was a hint of unspoken power about him, something she just couldn't quite put her finger on, and an unpredictability that both frightened and excited her.

 

It had been the strange woman, Ayame, who had originally sought her out, saying that word of mouth had drawn her to interest in a psychic consultation. Her concern for her husband's restlessness in recent months led her finally to ask for the reading. As instructed she had brought with her something which she said was a personal item of his, it had appeared to be a headband of some unidentifiable pelt. Watching him, she realized that it was the same one he wore now. The thing had put Miranda off at first. Being vegan and never wearing or using animal products, she hadn't wanted to touch it. But, lacking anything else, it had been the focal point for the initial spread that she had done. Touching it hadn't been a requirement, the spirits of the cards didn't require she handle focus items, thank the Gods.

 

Could I have saved Ayame if I had done the spread for her instead? Perhaps warned her, made her aware of an impending danger . . . I did what I was paid to do . . . but it wasn't nearly enough, not enough to save her . . . what else have I missed . . . now, what awaits Kouga . . . Will I see it? Can I warn him in time?

 

Lost in her rumination and self recrimination, she didn't realize she had become the target of an electric blue gaze. The movement as her guest rolled to his side returned her to the moment with a hesitation in her heartbeat as their eyes met. Who was this strange man, really?

 

“You're awake . . .” she observed vaguely, trapped briefly by those incredible eyes. “Want some coffee or something?” She swallowed, then blinked. As he lay there with one arm tucked under his head studying her, she realized just what a work of art he really was. Her heart started pounding against her chest, and she mentally shook herself, shocked at her reaction to his proximity. Glancing to his injury she noted the angry wound on his neck had become nothing more than a thin red line. “You're going to make me nervous if you keep that up . . .” she shifted uneasily beneath his intense scrutiny.

 

“It wasn't your fault, Miranda,” his words where low. “Stop beating yourself up.” No way he could have read her thoughts. But it was as if he had. She stiffened as he raised a hand in invitation to her.

“I can make you breakfast, I have grapefruit and . . .” she motioned lamely toward the kitchen but her evasion wasn't working. He lowered his chin and raised a brow at her, then beckoned again with his outstretched hand. It was the same arm she had wrapped the night before, and curiosity about how that injury was doing lured her closer. After all, he had said it would be fine by morning. Such a fantastic claim should be verified.

 

“I promise, I won't bite . . .” he whispered as he took her hand and pulled her to sit beside him on the bed. She laughed nervously, reaching to touch the bandage on his arm.

 

“Can I look? Does it still hurt?” she asked. He sniffed, and rolled to his back glaring at the gauze.

“It didn't hurt much to begin with. One of the stupid mutt's tricks. I shouldn't have let it get to me,” he held his arm out for her to remove the bandage.

 

“Mutt . . . you mean Inudono?” She picked at the tape with her nails, gingerly trying to loosen it.

 

“Here . . . don't waste your time . . .” he raised his arm, using a long fingernail from his other hand he neatly sliced through the gauze to reveal a slight pinking in a line no more than half of an inch wide down the center of where the wound had been. “It was his half brother . . . I thought he was dead . . . but apparently not.”

 

Gaping at the spot that had been an open gash on Kouga's forearm the night before, her brow furrowed, and she peered into his eyes. No one heals that fast. That should have been stitched, and yet the line is smooth. Who is this guy?? She reached out to touch his ear, shaped so unusually. Just like elves . . . one of the Fae folk . . .

 

“What are you doing?” he demanded as he grabbed her wrist roughly, yanking her hand away from the intimate gesture. So he doesn't like his ears touched . . . duly noted.

 

“You aren't telling me everything, are you Kouga?” She blinked at the claws on his hand, really seeing them for the first time. “How is it you heal overnight? I know I am missing something here. Your wife is murdered . . . and you don't want to bring in the authorities? You fight with wealthy recluses who use whips for weapons?”

 

“Don't forget the gun, the fucker had a gun, too,” he added with a snarl, dropping her hand and looking away..

 

“Is that how he killed Ayame? With a gun?” she demanded, her voice raising. “You said he used his teeth!!” Her confusion tangled dangerously with a sense of foreboding and she began backing away from him. “I remember your saying that last night... teeth!! What the hell is going on??”

 

Kouga grabbed for an arm and pulled her close, closer than she wanted to be. He was entirely too calm, almost relaxed as she struggled to pulled away. He was strong, much stronger than she had ever imagined and he persisted calmly against her struggle until finally, she found herself back on the bed with her back curled against him. His arms enveloped her tightly, a muscular leg trapped her against him. Her heart fluttering like a bird's wings, she squeaked when he sniffed deeply at her hair. Pressing close to her ear, his voice was no more than whisper.

 

“You're right, Miranda . . . theres a lot you don't know,” his breath was warm on her neck, “It's important that you understand. Time for the truth.” His grip on her didn't lessen, but she could feel his calculating gaze on her, as if studying her, deciding how to explain it to her.

 

“You're not going to tell me that you aren't human. . . ” she rasped out, wriggling against his hold, feeling every bit as though she was being restrained by something otherworldly. But that's not possible. She shook her head, lamenting all those horror movies she had watched as a kid.

 

“I'm youkai,” he stated flatly, allowing her a moment to absorb the information. “Youkai are not . . . human.” Suddenly the words this can't be real became a mantra in her mind.

 

“Right . . . Ok . . . “ she renewed her struggle against his hold. Maybe if she humored him, “So your an alien . . .” she fought against his hold, twisting her shoulders and yanking her legs in futility, little squeaks erupting from her throat.

 

“Not an alien, Miranda . . . “ He raised his voice over her struggle, his muscles grew more taught as he continued to restrain her. “More like . . .” Suddenly warm moisture, as his tongue traced along her neck and she gasped before growing still from the shock, “more like . . . a god.”

 

“No. . . I don't believe this . . . You're delusional . . .” she shook her head, her dark auburn hair falling to hide her face from him.

 

“My kind have been here since the beginning of time . . . just, hidden. We've been in the shadows, living a half life . . . for too long. It wasn't always that way . . . once we were free. Once, long ago, we ruled everything. My kind were . . . respected . . . revered . . . even worshiped.”

 

“What about Ayame? Was she. . . ” she was near whining. Giving up on her struggle, she remembered the ethereal wildness of the woman's aura when they met.

 

“Yes.” he affirmed, burying his face in her hair. She realized she hadn't imagined it, he had been smelling at her from the time he woke. She knew his nose was sensitive after all the complaints about the incense she burned, but now he was smelling her, almost like a flower. The way he kept his nose so close to her, she couldn't help but think he liked her scent. And then he licked her like she was some kind of strange candy . . . but, he promised he wouldn't bite . . .

 

Her mind raced. The whole concept was insane. His visits had always been late in the night, perhaps to avoid detection? His dress was odd, and those ears were just . . . Too many thoughts whirled in her confused mind.

 

“I need you, Miranda . . .” his voice returning to the warm breath in her ear, as his grip began to loosen. “The balance is off . . . Youkai should never have to hide themselves.”

 

He rose over her, rolling her to her back, his position dominating her. She crossed her arms against her chest defensively, and offered him a look of defiance. That seemed to surprised him at first, and he responded with a challenging grin, a glimmer sparked in his electric gaze.

 

“Wh-What do you want from me . . . if you're some kind . . . some kind of god . . .” she stammered, “Then you fix it . . . I'm nobody . . . just a fortune teller . . . I can't change anything!”

 

“You know the ways of this place,” he reached slowly for her crossed arms and gently pulled them away from her chest, holding them to her sides. “You will be my guide . . . my counsel.”

 

“It's the Jewel . . . you need that Jewel . . . for what?” her fear began to waver. He didn't act like he wanted to hurt her. No, it seemed more like he wanted her co-operation. Was demanding it. The least she could do is listen to what he had to say, her curiosity began to override her instinct to simply run from him.

 

“It's an ancient artifact,” he nodded. “It has great power,” he slowly traced her jawline with the tip of his nose, his grip on her wrists slackened. “With that one, small thing . . . my people would be free again.” He pressed his cheek against hers, then rubbed lightly tracing her cheekbone with his nose. “You Americans. . . you pride yourselves on having a free country.” He rose just enough to lock her eyes with his, reached up to gently brush her errant locks from her face, “yet my people live in the shadows . . . even here in this place. . . is that right?”

 

She slowly shook her head, her mind spinning. The feel of him, his strength . . . Even though he hovered over her dominantly, the gentle tenderness of his little caresses brought a flush to her face. It had been too long since she had felt the touch of a man.

 

Everything about his demeanor said he was sincere in his desire to right this wrong. The anger she had sensed before had become the sound of determination in his voice. Surely what he was asking was not unreasonable . . . he wanted her help. Being a nurturer by nature, it was her way to be supportive. But it all seemed too fantastic, too unreal, and his touch was pulling at so much more than just her mind. She tried to breath, and found the air entirely too thick.

 

“Join me . . .” he whispered, “The rewards are beyond anything you could imagine.” He rested his head against her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck. “I will make you a respected member of my tribe . . . The Ookami-tribe . . . the ruling tribe.” he promised, tilting his head to meet her eyes.

 

“Become a member of your tribe?” She shook her head, trying to break free of the euphoria his attentions were inspiring. “I don't want to go anywhere, Kouga . . .” she murmured without conviction. “I . . . like my life here . . . just fine . . .” her brow furrowed, what was he doing to her? And just what exactly was it that he was asking? “Can't I just help you?”

 

“To become Ookami is protection for you, Miranda . . . against anything or anyone who might ever wish you harm.” He touched his nose to hers, heated breath wafted across her lips. The room became too warm suddenly, and her eyes unfocused as her fear disappeared completely, becoming something else. Something sensual and purely animalistic. “You won't have to go anywhere . . .” he whispered, “but if you need me, or . . . want me . . . I'll always be here for you.”

 

“Why do I get this nagging feeling . . .” she absently noted the huskiness in her own voice, “that you are trying to seduce me?”

 

“Maybe . . .” and his lips barely brushed against hers “. . . because . . . I am.”

 

He drew his tongue across her lips, she reached to grab the back of his neck, crushing his mouth to hers. It was a dream, some insane fantasy. None of it could possibly be real. She had admired Kouga secretly for months, joking, teasing. All the while feeling an unexplainable emptiness when he would leave. Maybe he had cast a spell on her, she didn't know why she needed him so badly. She didn't care anymore. All she knew was that she did, and he seemed to need her just as much. She parted her lips allowing him access to the intimacy of her tongue, and he slowly pulled up the hem of her caftan then slipped his leg between her creamy thighs to press against her sex, running his warm hand along her side caressing her soft curves.

 

Miranda's hands dragged along his arms, relishing the feel of his skin, the sheer strength that radiated from the muscle beneath. That strength had restrained her, but now he had promised it would protect her. Brushing against the leather of his garments, a vague thought floated in about the fact that he was wearing animal skins . . . then became completely lost in the sensation of what was underneath those pelts. Her hand traveling to his shoulders and back, exploring his powerful build. She realized that his scent was as untamed as his heart, that of pine needles and earth, all overridden by the strong musk of his masculinity.

 

“I could definitely get used to this . . .” she murmured, and he chuckled then kissed her again, their tongues fighting for dominance.

 

 

His mind became a blur of plans, and the delicious sensations of the moment interrupting them. Kouga had never been with a human before. Only once had he tried, and failed to win the heart one of her kind. His hands ran over her hips, noting the exquisite way that the bone protruded slightly on the sides of her concave abdomen, her moans luring him into an altered state as he tasted the skin of her neck, the heat of her pulse.

 

Annoyed with the encumbrance of her caftan, the claw of his thumb sliced through it. It pleased him to find that the only thing beneath the fabric was her delicious skin, and he slowly worked his way down from her neck to her shoulder, noting the spot above her collarbone where the mark would be placed. The alliance would be set, and his goals would be achieved.

 

Moving down her silken body, he nuzzled against the underside of her breast, while palming the other, rubbing her nipple into erection with his roughened hand. The temptation to lap at it full tongued was one he couldn't resist, setting off a new sound from her throat. A nearly feral sound, a demand as her pelvis pushed against his thigh, her dampness calling to him.

 

She slipped her thumb under his headband, and pulled at the leather thong that held his mane at bay. It pooled around them both as he worked his way down to her tender belly. She dug her fingers into the thickness of his hair and her demands became whimpers pleading to him for more. She lifted up her knees, drawing him to the flower of her passion, luring him with her arousal, intoxicating him with her scent.

 

His mouth reached her most secret place, and as he explored her, he could vaguely hear her calling his name. He felt her dragging at his clothes and realized how badly he wanted to feel her skin against his own. He tugged at his garb, all the while lapping at her and teasing her. Once free of the restraints, he wrapped his arms around her legs, deepening his exploration even more, while her hands traced the bare skin of his shoulders. He could feel her reaching, pulling . . . demanding.

 

The throbbing in his loins became more urgent, and he slowly climbed the length of her, dragging his tongue along her salty sweetness, stopping to nip at her breasts before fully covering her with his form. Her dark, sea green eyes had sharpened, become brighter, more intense, glowing beneath half mast lids with her own intoxication, and their lips met again, tongues dancing. Her hands traced his sides, lightly brushing her fingernails on his skin, her legs wrapped his waist in a passionate embrace, as they each relishing the pure sensation of skin on skin.

 

“I want you . . .” her voice was a husky whisper. “Kouga . . . please . . .” he nipped at her neck, pressing his hardness against her, slowly entering the slickness of her, pushing deeply to hold her tight and just feel her. “Oh GOD!” she moaned as she convulsed against his hardness.

 

He shuddered with his need, his fight to control, as he felt her orgasm pull at him. He pulled back slowly, he could feel her trembling as he traced her collarbone with his tongue. Pushing deeply again, her breath quickened and his name was on her lips. He didn't hold this time, but again pulled back and as he pressed fully against her, her hips began to grind into him in response. A low growl began to emanate from his chest, and the cadence of their sensual dance increased, breath becoming labored, ragged.

 

“Mine . . .” he whispered into her ear, his nips gradually becoming harder along her neck and shoulders, his thrusts increasing in urgency.

 

“Yours . . .” she panted, enjoying the intensity of his love bites, she lifted her chin to give him better access to her neck and throat, not realizing that this was an act of complete submission to him. She was accepting his claim, he would make her his own.

 

“You... are... MINE!” he growled with each stroke, wrapping one hand around the back of her head, fisting her hair. There was an urgency to his demand that she, too could feel. The near violence of his grip brought her a thrill like she had never before experienced.

 

“GOD, yes!” She panted as he began to drive into her, “Make . . . me . . . yours,” grabbing his powerful buttocks with her hands, she dug her nails in deeply, a subconscious effort to hold on to the moment. “Don't ever . . . stop . . .” she panted, nearly a whisper in his ear, drawing her tongue across his ear, where her fingers had earlier been forbidden.

 

The ache and the fire became more than he could stand, as he felt her tense beneath him. His grasp on her hair tightened, his hand pressed forcefully against her back as he immobilized her. With a great roar, he released his seed deep inside her, his fangs buried deeply into her shoulder, as he fiercely consummated their union.

 

There were no words beyond that, none were possible as each of them were beyond rational comprehension. Kouga stirred slowly and gently ran his tongue across her shoulder. Both languorously drained, he lay draped over her as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

 

Miranda, eyes closed, stroked his back and arms, ran her fingers through his hair and slowly began to wonder what all of it meant. He was different, something about him yanked at her very soul. She found herself questioning her convictions in the arms of this wild creature. Opening her eyes, she felt a twinge and glanced down at her shoulder, to the place where he had been licking her. Not being able to see the source of her concern, she reached a hand up to trace the smoothness, only to find two prominent puncture marks. What the hell?

 

“Hey!” She bucked underneath him to get his attention. He stirred and looked dreamily into her eyes, then smiled affectionately.

 

“mmhmm?” he murmured, nuzzling at her jaw with his nose.

 

“You broke your promise . . .” her tone brought his full attention, and he gazed again at her eyes with a line of concern forming on his brow.

 

Why the hell is she pissed? I've just given her . . . everything . . . all that I am . . .

 

“I don't understand . . .” he mumbled, as he pulled from her to roll beside her and draw her into his arms. A tear slipped down her cheek as her hand ran across the mark he had just given her.

 

“You promised . . .” she sniffed, “that you wouldn't bite . . .”

 

“Oh,” his eyes widened slightly, as he reached to pull her hair from her shoulder so he could better see, and smiled. “You're . . . mine now, Miranda.” He again ran his tongue over the injury, then nuzzled at her neck.

 

“A member of your tribe?” her confusion was palpable.

 

He chuckled in response, pulling her head to his shoulder. He drew in a deep breath.

 

“Among other things, yes . . .” his finger crooked under her chin, directing her to face him and look into his eyes. “You need to start eating better.”

 

“What has that got to do with anything?” she demanded, fire in her glare. Oh, how he loved that about her. Such passion. “My diet is my own concern, Kouga.”

 

“Not anymore, wench . . .” he smiled. “It has everything to do . . . with the health of our pups. You're too thin.” He snuggled closer, to be shoved away by an arm against his chest. His surprise at her rejection was evident.

 

“Pups??” she demanded, her tone laced with shock..

 

“You're my mate . . .” he offered calmly, pausing to grasp for a better term, “my wife, now . . . It stands to reason that we will have a family . . . and sooner than later.” Smiling at the thought he reached for her, then hesitated. Surely she knew she was in her fertile cycle. How could she not?

 

“What?” she brought a hand to her forehead. “You wanted me to join your pack . . . you didn't ask me to bear your children!!”

 

“You agreed, though,” he reminded her, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “You told me yes. To make you mine.”

 

“So you bit me??” She stared at him. His eyes were so sincere, with a trace of . . . was that hurt? It made her heart ache to see him hurt. “That was the throes of passion, Kouga!” she tried to explain reasonably, “I hardly know you! I mean I really do care about you, and I want to help you of course . . .”

 

“Miranda,” he interrupted her rambling, his tone firm. “It's done. . . arguing about it won't change it. I want this, or I wouldn't have let it happen . . . ”

 

“Ayame hasn't been dead a week, and now you want me? Isn't that just a little. . . sudden??” she shook her head, remembering the sultry woman and how devoted to her husband she had been.

 

“Let me explain something to you,” he drew her close, tracing circles on her cheek with the pads of his fingers. “I took Ayame as my mate because it was expected of me. Back then, someone else had stolen my heart, but would not give me hers. Ayame came from another tribe, and our arranged union brought peace and strength to both tribes. She never truly had my heart, Miranda. Her death was a shock,” and he looked away, anger brushing his features. “And I am held by duty to avenge her . . . and I will. But . . . before I met you . . . my heart had been as dead as the woman who had stolen it so long ago.”

 

“But, she was so devoted to you . . . Ayame loved you more than anything in this world, I could see that . . .” she looked down at her hand, which had traveled to his arm. “Isn't this a betrayal of some kind? She was my client . . . but you . . . you had become more like a friend.”

 

“What's with this 'had' shit?” he raised her chin to look at him. “I better still be . . . or we're in for some real trouble . . . my mate.” His eyes sparkled as he used the term, and he kissed the tip of her nose. “There is no betrayal . . .” he whispered. “Life . . . is for the living.”

 

“Give me some time to get used to the idea . . .” she asked softly. “I kinda thought if I ever did find someone, we would do something more traditional, like . . . get married . . . or something . . .” and she trailed off.

 

“Don't take too long . . . ,” he leaned in to nuzzle his mark, and noticed the bruising around it, and the little bruises blooming along her neck. “Fuck, I've hurt you . . . no wonder you've got doubts.”

He backed away and carefully examined her nude form, noting the number of scratches, the bruising along her arms and torso. He turned her so he could see her back, and found five perfect claw marks where he had punctured her skin while marking her. He'd known he could easily overpower her, but he hadn't realized how delicate, or just how fragile her human body was. Reaching over to pick up his discarded headband, he slipped it onto her head.

 

“That's a dead animal skin,” she grimaced, reaching to remove it. He staid her hand, pulling it to his lips for a kiss. If what he had heard was true, the first time was always the most dangerous. But she was stronger than she realized . . . she had survived.

 

“You wouldn't want the live one on your head, trust me . . . the pelt will help,” he smoothed her hair. “It has . . . properties.” At her dubious look, his eyes sharpened, “just wear the damn thing, you'll heal faster.”

 

She froze at the terseness of the command, then her eyes widened slightly and her heart quickened. In his own gruff way, he was taking care of her. She had always been the caretaker, and now . . . someone wanted to take care of her.

 

“Lets feed you, Koishii . . . you are going to need your strength,” and with kiss to her forehead, he rose to gather his clothing.

 

'I could so definitely get used to this . . .' she thought, smiling.

 

 

 

 

 

88*88*88*88*88

 

 

 

A/N:: Gomen for all the annoying updates, never was happy with this chappie so set about to rewrite then the post was a pain. Can you tell Ima nooB? lol

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