InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ InuErotica ❯ Bound (Mir/San) ( Chapter 3 )

 

Dedication: For Fenikkusuken - because she asked.

Disclaimers: Don't claim a thing but the unique order of the words. The characters are the happy property of R. Takahashi, who deserves every bit of credit she can get for letting them come out to play with us.

Thanks: Huge thanks to Fenikkusuken for doing a very thorough beta job and adding grace and fluidity to the tone. She deserves every PWM she gets out of this and anything else I write!

 

Bound

 

InuYasha and Kagome had been gone for two days, back to Kagome's time for her to take a “test.” Things had been stressful prior to their leaving. The recent battle with Naraku that almost claimed Kouga's and Miroku's lives had taxed the band's energy, but not its resolve. Everyone - except Kagome, InuYasha growled - wanted to get on with hunting the dark hanyou. After a rousing argument, in which Kagome challenged his characterization of her motives with several sit! commands, InuYasha had agreed to take her back home, but only for three days. Even Kouga commented that the air seemed clearer once they had put the disagreement behind them. Once they had left with Kirara and Shippou, the kitsune feeling a need to visit Kaede, Kouga decided to try to find Ginta and Hakkaku, both of whom seemed to have become hopelessly lost - again.

 

After everyone had departed in a flurry of words and promises to return, Miroku and Sango found themselves together, alone; and while they welcomed this rare chance, each day and each night had become progressively more tense as they were drawn closer, and yet kept themselves apart. Silences became heavy and they were easily embarrassed. An unspoken desire grew between them - feeling almost like a third person sharing their camp. Unspoken but not unnoticed, for they felt the desire to touch, the desire to hold, the desire to be close to one they had promised to share a life with - a life that had almost vanished only a few days before.

 

On the third night, discussion turned, as it usually did, to their companions. Until now such conversation had been successful in keeping more intimate subjects at bay.

 

“Kagome and InuYasha seem to get over their fights more easily these days, don't you agree?” Miroku probed as he began to build up the fire against the darkness that crept into their wooded clearing. “I know that Kagome is still bothered by InuYasha's attentions to Kikyou-sama, but he has also seemed more attentive to Kagome. I wonder if she sees that as well?”

 

“Kagome doesn't think he has romantic feelings for Kikyou anymore,” Sango said, placing the cooking pot further into the embers, “but that doesn't mean she likes it when InuYasha runs off to be with her.”

 

“Hmm.” Miroku seemed to be thinking about her statement, and then a rakish grin stole across his face and he said, while staring absentmindedly into the fire, “It's too bad that InuYasha can't really show her how he feels.”

 

“What do you mean?” Sango looked a little suspicious.

 

“Uh…” Miroku seemed to realize he'd said his words out loud. “Um… I…”

 

“You were having disgusting thoughts, weren't you, houshi?” Sango put on her habitually stern face, and she might as well have reached across the fire and slapped him for the effect it had on him.

 

“Sango!” He looked guilty, and tried to look affronted as well. “How can you say that?”

 

“Well then,” Sango narrowed her eyes at him, “be honest. Tell me what you were really thinking.”

 

Miroku considered her words and then his face relaxed and he told the truth, though averting his eyes from hers. “Alright, yes, I was thinking that InuYasha had become more comfortable holding Kagome, carrying her, sitting near her. He doesn't often want us to see it, but he has clearly grown closer to her.” His eyes flicked up from the fire to catch hers and then glanced away. “I just think it must pain him not to act on what must be his natural desire.”

 

Sango's face flushed before she knew it as she recognized that his words held a double meaning. The conversation had turned into dangerous territory, but she felt drawn into it tonight. It occurred to her that she had secretly wished for more intimate conversation with the man with whom she hoped to bond for a lifetime. He seemed to be offering her that opportunity.

 

“But Kagome is so young!” Following his lead into this subject, she immediately realized that Miroku's thoughts might be more along the lines of No, my dear Sango, it you who are so old. After all, most women her age were bonded and had at least two children by now. The flush stayed on her cheeks as she served up his dinner and came around the fire to kneel at his side, handing him the warm bowl.

 

“Sango,” Miroku's voice was infused with understanding, as though he'd read her thoughts. He reached out to take the small bowl from her hands, and his fingers lightly brushed hers, “A woman's age matters less than the maturity in her heart, of which Kagome has plenty. Are you concerned about InuYasha? While he may be physically older than any of us…”

 

Sango couldn't help but titter at the insinuation that their energetic hanyou could still use a little emotional seasoning. She raised her hands to cover her suddenly smiling mouth and brought her eyes up to catch him looking at her again, intensity glowing in his deep blue-gray eyes. She flushed again at the strong physical reaction she had to his handsome face, the one she caught herself gazing at when she had nothing much to do, the one that seemed to be drawing her into some spell tonight with eyes that looked into her, and through her.

 

“No, I'm not worried for them like that,” Sango said, staying on subject and dropping her hands into her lap, inches from his knee. “InuYasha may be bullheaded and immature sometimes, but he has an honest heart. If they were to… you know… uh… get more… become close like that…” Her words trailed off for a moment and then she said, “Kagome tells me that in her time, couples can join without promising themselves to each other for life.”

 

“Hm.” Miroku's face almost slid into that sly grin again, but he caught himself this time, attempting to look serious. “Just imagine how much nicer InuYasha would be to her if he knew that!” Sango tittered again, and the twinkle in his eye told her that he enjoyed her smile. “Hey, maybe he already does!” They both laughed again, and as their merriment died down, Sango got a mischievous grin on her face to match his.

 

“Well, it would certainly change things in our little group, though, wouldn't it?”

 

“Yes,” Miroku looked into the fire again, suddenly serious, “I suppose it would.” He took a deep breath. “If Kagome were to carry a child, it would change things for all of us.”

 

Sango shook her head and laughed again. “No, I'm not worried about that, either.” Miroku gave her a surprised look. Sango kept her eyes on the fire and smiled a very knowing smile that intrigued her companion. “She told me that in her time, they can… um… choose when to bring the child forth.”

 

“Really?” Miroku pondered this revelation. “I wonder what it might be like, to not have to worry about bearing a child until you wanted one?”

 

Sango was surprised and let it show on her face as she stared at him. “What? Aren't you the one always saying you want someone - anyone -” she gave him that sharp look that had grown into such reflexive habit between them, “to bear your child?” Does this mean he doesn't want me to bear his children? She wondered if he could see the confusion in her eyes.

 

Caught in a truth he hadn't planned to reveal, and somewhat embarrassed as a result, he looked away and remained silent. As she moved back to her own place by the fire, Sango continued to watch him, seeing something new in her best friend and constant companion that she'd only guessed might be there, a layer beneath the facade of philandering houshi, a sadness she did not fully understand. A new warmth spread in her as a barrier came down in her heart.

 

They remained silent, and ate as the fire continued to blaze into the soft noises of the evening. Miroku excused himself once, probably going off to urinate. While he was gone Sango continued to stare into the fire, wondering what he was thinking. The vision of his face from the other side of the fire burned into her and caught her up in the spell of his eyes. She sensed his return to the clearing, coming up behind her and hesitating.

 

To her delight and slight discomfort he approached her slowly and knelt by her side, looking straight ahead. She half expected him to reach for her behind, but the authentic turn in the conversation seemed to have given him pause. She wasn't sure what to think of this new houshi, he seemed somber and unfamiliar. She realized that he had used his good humor and wisdom to comfort her in sadness so many times that she sometimes forgot that he must constantly bear the weight of his own plight, one that continued to eat away at him more deeply every day. Feeling a sudden influx of gratitude towards him for cheering her so often and wanting to return the favor, she reached out to take his hand, the one without the curse, the one that he did not shield from the world. As her small hand softly wrapped over his knuckles, he moved his thumb out to stroke the backs of her fingers gently but firmly, and shots of adrenaline fluttered out of her heart and all down her. She basked for a moment in the feel of his warm skin and his strong hand as it turned up to clasp hers, opening and accepting her comforting hold.

 

A sudden heat rose between them, almost as if a bit of magic wafted through the darkness to cast its charm into the fire crackling merrily before them. Hands still clasped, their fingers gingerly exploring little clefts of smoothness and roughness, and they both began to succumb to whatever bewitchment had been hunting them, sharing their camp, trying to capture them for two days. Silence came down on them, heavy… sweet … soft …

 

Sango caught her breath as his finger slid under her sleeve, insinuating itself gently but firmly at her pulse point and forcing her fingers down his wrist, under the edge of his deep indigo and amethyst robes. His fingertips lightly brushed the sensitive skin of her inner arm and as his hand moved, it pushed his own wrist across her fingers. She allowed herself to explore him more actively, rubbing over the knob of his wrist bone where the strong muscles of his arms met his hands and created a little hollow for her finger to press into gently. Her fingers wanted to creep up inside his robe, but she stopped them. She had definitely felt a barrier come down, but from this new houshi she still needed some explanation.

 

“Houshi-sama,” she said gently, continuing her delicate exploration of his warm skin and allowing his touch to remain on her, “do you still want children?” Do you still want me to bear them? Her question had many answers, and they both knew it.

 

“Sango.” He said her name wistfully, expressing the sadness she'd sensed earlier as he continued to stare into the fire and he took her hand in a firm grip, bringing it into his lap so he could place his protected hand gently on hers. She had to scoot a little closer to him so she wasn't leaning over uncomfortably. “I desperately want children - someday.” He let out a deep sigh. “But ever since … the fuyouheki incident, I -” he used his term for his closest-yet brush with death and his head dropped. She looked over to see that his eyes were closed, a pain on his face.

 

“What is it?” She was becoming worried and she shifted to face him directly. “Houshi…” He lifted his eyes to hers, and they were filled with such pain and loneliness that she felt a sob rising in her own throat, responding immediately to the sorrow she saw in him, even though she didn't fully understand its source.

 

“Sango,” his voice was strained, “I meant what I said before. If we can destroy Naraku, I want nothing more than to live with you forever and fill our days with the laughter of children. But,” he swallowed, “if we can't defeat Naraku,” his features became resolute and strong, a look of determination stealing over his face, “then I will let go of my family's quest for vengeance. If that happens, I want my line to end with me.” She sucked in her breath with understanding. “I refuse to give this curse to another child, least of all -” his eyes became moist as he caught her gaze, “least of all, my dear Sango, to your child.”

 

A tear leaked down her cheek, and then another. She felt a deep loss, for so many things that were not yet hers to lose, and soon the tears were spilling one on top of each other. He moved to wrap her into a hug, cradling her head on his shoulder. After a few moments, she managed to regain a little control and sat up to look at him again, one more question unanswered.

 

“Then why,” she grew angry at the little bit of hurt that crept into her voice, the little pain she could never manage to push away, “why do you keep leering at every woman we meet?”

 

His eyes briefly met hers and she saw guilt there, and sorrow, and more sadness. He looked down at where he held her hand in his, resting on his lap. “I'm sorry, Sango.” He shook his head, almost as if realizing something for the first time. “It must hurt you so.” He was quiet, his attention on his fingers as they stroked hers. “I… I guess in some foolish way,” he exhaled a small laugh that sounded more like a strangled cry, and she saw a little tear glisten at the corner of his eye, “I guess I'm trying to protect you.”

 

“Protect me?” More pain-fueled anger came up to mix with some strange new feeling of gratitude. “Protect me from what? That's an odd way to protect me.” Now she felt like she was going to cry again. How had they become so serious all of a sudden?

 

He shook his head again, and raised his hand to brush at his eyes while he inhaled and sniffed up some tears that hadn't yet spilled. “I hadn't really thought about it this way until now.” He looked at her again and she saw the sincere regret in his eyes that broke her heart. “It used to be, I don't know, just the way I was. But lately… since we decided… I guess I didn't want you to get too close… in case…”

 

“What?” She felt a stab of fear. Looking back down, he just shook his head and truth dawned for her, a realization of just how fearful for his own life he was in this struggle against the shouki that ate away at him from the inside. Her anger turned immediately to heartache, remembering that she might lose him before they could build a life. She tried to think of something comforting to say, something that would bring them closer instead of pushing them apart. The barriers between them, which had been coming down so gently this night, had gone back to being complicated and it saddened her. She wanted all the barriers to just go away; she just wanted to be with him. An idea occurred to her, one she'd only allowed herself to ponder once or twice before. But understanding better now what kept them apart, she realized that this might be her only chance to bring them together - ever.

 

“Houshi-baka,” she said as playfully as she could, knowing the tease might have crossed a boundary of propriety, but she pushed through the doubt and the tears still brimming in her eyes, “what if I told you that Kagome gave me one of… uh… of the… things...” I'm bungling this…

 

“What are you talking about?” He seemed confused, but completely unfazed by her attempt at playfulness.

 

“Kagome gave me a… thing.” Sango didn't know the word for pill. “She said she carries one too, because a woman in our time never knows when…” she blushed deeply, “she might be captured… forced…”

 

“Sango!” Miroku looked horrified. “I would never do that to you!”

 

“I know that,” she said affectionately. “I didn't mean that you would. I just meant that I have… one of the things… Kagome gave me… to prevent a child.”

 

Realization dawned on his features and he looked back down at their hands. Something important had changed in his demeanor. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could feel a new strength in the way he stroked her hand. She had the sense his heart was beating harder now, as was hers. He was quiet and she held her breath until he spoke, still not looking at her.

 

“Sango, we are still not bound.” His thumb rubbed very slowly up the soft pad of flesh below her thumb, feeling not just her skin, but the muscle and bone beneath it. He was feeling her.

 

“Houshi-sama,” the words were barely formed in her mind; they came straight from her heart, “you and I do not live the normal lives of villagers, with families-” her throat constricted a little bit, pushing away the memories,”- with families, and traditions, and conventions.” We may not even survive… the lump in her throat was not going away. “We are already bound in purpose and life. I do not need a priest to bind me to you. If my houshi wishes it, I will be bound to him.”

 

She saw him squeeze his eyes shut, his head still bowed, and her own tears fell again. Her heart ached for him, for them. She didn't know if what she had said was right, or what he needed to hear, or what she should want, but she knew it was true. They sat like that for some time, both absorbing her words. Finally, he took a deep breath and lifted his face; his eyes met hers and gripped her soul. She'd never seen him laid so bare; his eyes were deep and tearful, and very, very happy. He smiled even as a single tear fell down the plane of his face, and she reached for it instinctively, rubbing it away with her thumb and continuing to cup his face with her hand, unable to take her eyes away from his. She was drowning in them, and he looked equally helpless.

 

He moved first, taking her hand in his lap and pulling it gently to bring her to him. As she leaned closer, he raised his unprotected hand to her cheek and stopped her when their faces were only inches apart. She felt his breath brush her lips, saw nothing but his eyes, like the deepest most starlit night sky, and felt his warm hand flex on her face. Maybe he had planned to say something, but words seemed unnecessary, and her eyes closed as he came to her lips, touching them softly to his for the first time. Like silk against her cheek, his breath warmed her. Her heart fluttered wildly, wanting more but being afraid, like a trapped bird in a cage. He did not pull away, but stayed there, kissing her again and again, lightly at first and then with more pressure. As she became accustomed to his touch, she began to kiss him back, moving her hand to spread her fingers down his back just a little bit, pulling him to her. She was blushing fiercely, but with her eyes closed, it didn't matter.

 

She felt him exhale deeply, noticing her acceptance, and then his head turned a bit and he pressed his lips into hers with more strength, his mouth opening slightly, and then his tongue touched her lips, probing between them gently. She was surprised and made a noise as she stiffened. He immediately pulled back, leaning his forehead against hers “I'm sorry, Sango,” he whispered softly, sadly.

 

“No, houshi-sama.” Her blush burned her ears now. “I'm sorry. I've just never…” He was quiet and she realized she'd have to show him she really wasn't pushing him away, afraid he'd never believe her otherwise. Moving her hand back to his cheek, she leaned forward and kissed him again, harder this time, and then playfully trailed her tongue along his lower lip. She had no idea what she was doing, but it seemed to mean something to him and he tilted his face back into the kiss.

 

Their tongues tentatively touched and moved together, exploring from their tips on into the sweet darkness within. Sango had never felt anything like the hunger that began to grow in her, a hunger to consume him, be inside him and have him inside of her - all from the wet touch of his tongue. He pushed himself into her mouth and she felt his desire for her; excitement flooded her, pooling below her belly as he opened his mouth more, leaning into her with strength, yearning and deep, deep breaths. Though their hands still barely touched, they found new ways to explore the kiss, slipping around each other, in and out of each other, probing in time with the pounding of their hearts until finally they broke away, both breathing heavily. Pulling back, their gazes locked again and a new flush grew on their cheeks as months of wanting each other come out of hiding, clear in the firelight for the other to see. It was powerful and it was frightening.

 

“I must go set the spirit barrier for the night,” Miroku said quietly, releasing her hand and her cheek. He looked away and then back into her eyes, catching her in his glance as with a command, giving her a little thrill. “Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back.”

 

He pulled the ofudas he had prepared earlier from inside his deep sleeve and stepped to pick up his staff. As he moved into the trees, the stave's metallic jangling set her nerves dancing, bouncing around inside her with its sound, teasing her into giggles once he was out of sight. She covered her mouth again, protecting no one but herself from her excited embarrassment. What have I done? She giggled, knowing she'd done exactly what she intended to. She'd tempted him with the very thing she usually made such a show of rejecting. All this time she'd wanted him to want her but was too afraid to let him know.

 

She collected the leftovers from dinner and put things away, all the while listening to his staff as he circled their camp, circled her, coming closer as she flitted about, straightening things, wondering what was going to happen when he returned. She was quite nervous, but had no regrets so far.

 

He circled a second time, which was unusual, and she went to the edge of the clearing, looking up at a break in the trees to admire the quarter moon hanging in the sky. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she thought about whether this was a good idea or not. Then her own words came back to her. They were already bound in life and purpose; she wanted to be bound to him in body, too. She had wanted it for a long time and thought he had as well. She thought about the kiss and that warm pooling inside her started again, feeling a little like a rush of heat when she remembered him hungrily pushing into her mouth...

 

The chiming of his staff came closer and she heard him lean it against a tree and step across the clearing towards her. She was surprised when he came up behind her instead of next to her as he usually did. She tensed a little, expecting to feel him touch her rear. His hands slipped around her waist and pulled her back to lean against his strong frame. She'd only seen his bare chest a few times without the protection of his robes, but she knew he was lean and strong under the flowing fabric and now as she felt his strength and solidity it thrilled her. He began to move his hands and she tensed again, causing him to snuffle amusement into her ear.

 

“You think I'm going for your bottom, don't you?” he murmured, moving his hands gently up her sides and around the back of her shoulders to glide back down her arms. Goosebumps rose everywhere he touched.

 

“Of course.” She sounded more peevish than she wanted to. “Don't you always?”

 

“Of course,” he mocked playfully, his voice deepening. “When I'm not being serious.”

 

She sucked her breath in as his hands came around her waist again and moved to the tie on her green apron, loosening it so that it fell to the ground. From there, he moved on to find the other ties keeping her from him. Her heart beat hard in her chest as she leaned into him even more and felt his hands on her, moving over the fabric that separated them, brushing places never touched by a man. She'd never felt this before, felt the heat burning her and the sensitivity of her body, as though every whisper of movement was sending ripples through her very core, threatening to bring her to collapse. When she took a particularly deep breath, pushing herself back against him, she felt something new, something hard pressing into her rear. She had almost forgotten that men had those things, and what they were for. She felt a little nervous stab, remembering what male animals did with theirs and assuming from sounds in the village at night that human males reacted the same way. Almost without realizing it, out of curiosity perhaps, she pressed her rear gently into his hardness. Feeling it respond she wondered again what she'd gotten herself into, but her body had no such fear. It kept pushing back into him, thrusting her chest out into the night, her half loosened kimono opening a little more to allow some of the evening's coolness in to thrill her. She heard a short grunt, followed by a quick breath as he moved to put his hands on her waist again and pull her hips into him, firmly, strongly. Her body responded with a rush of adrenaline that excited her.

 

“Besides,” he said huskily into her other ear, “why use my hand?”

 

Her blush deepened with the new sensations rushing through her. Suddenly, she wanted him to touch her rear, and everywhere else. She began to turn toward him, but he stayed her with his hands on her waist, gently forcing her to continue facing the darkness as it glowed under the moon's silver light.

 

“Wait.” His voice was clear and his hands were firm on her sides. “Sango, you're sure about this?”

 

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, not trusting her words as his hands began moving back over her clothing, finding more ties to loosen.

 

“And you're sure about that… thing?” He didn't know the word for pill either.

 

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled again, “I have it right over there.”

 

“You only have one?” His hands were loosening the tie in her hair and pulling its black fall around her neck to drape over her shoulder, exposing her sensitive skin to the brush of his lips. She nodded, feeling the chills cascade down her back. “So we can only do this once until Naraku is gone?” She nodded again as his lips moved up past her ear. “Better make it good then,” he whispered seductively.

 

Her heart skipped a beat as his fingers skimmed down her front and pulled apart the layers of kimono and hadajuban underneath it to allow in the night air, calling up goosebumps on her skin. Glad she hadn't worn her armor underneath, she felt her nipples harden in the night breeze, but it was much more than the air that peaked them tonight. She sucked in her breath, pushing herself against him again and felt his responsive push back.

 

His hands continued to move over her, at first brushing his fingertips across her breasts and down her belly to stop just above the loosened tie which had not yet fallen to the ground. She knew he wanted to probe that other, more intimate, place because he kept returning to it, trailing its edge and pressing his fingers just underneath the tie a little more each time. But then he would leave it behind and return to circle her curves bringing little gasps from her again and again. After a few minutes, his hands slowed over her breasts, each teasing in its own way. His bare hand softly cupped one, smoothing underneath it to gently fill his palm, while the fingers above his curse belied their affliction and nimbly explored the other, lightly rolling her nipple erect and drawing a quiet groan of pleasure from her lips. All this time, he breathed deeply into the hair above her ear and she felt his heart beat more strongly and his body grow firmer and more solid behind her.

 

Even as she began to succumb to his touch, enjoying the flow of warmth circling everywhere inside her, she knew that his skills were not unschooled, but reflected the experience of other women's bodies. While this made her sad in some way, in another, she felt lucky; lucky that he had the experience to share with her, since she had none to share with him; lucky that he would choose her to share his heart with as well as his body; lucky that it felt so very good.

 

His mouth descended from her ear to breathe out against her neck, calling back the goosebumps as he kissed her exposed skin softly. She heard a little groan escape her, barely audible, and felt him respond by pushing into her again. She thrilled to feel him smile against her skin when he kissed her. She wanted to turn and kiss him back, more fully than they had before, but he still had her hip in a tight hold so she raised her arm up over their heads to run her fingers through his hair, down to the tie that she managed to slip off with only a flinch and sound of amusement from him. His hair freed, she ran her fingers through it softly, arching her back against him to reach it. This had the luscious effect of driving her hips into him and lifting her breasts into his hands and further into the cool night air, where they jutted out boldly, demanding more attention. Still a little embarrassed, she was glad for the moment that she only had the moon to face, and it seemed to smile back at her in the dark.

 

When she arched against him, Miroku let out a little groan and matched her movement as he bowed his back. Their bodies pulsed against each other in a single movement, and in another moment she found herself spun around, her mouth an inch from his until he came down on her in a deeper kiss. Another pulse and the kiss became an organic dance of desire, pressing, moaning, needing...

 

When they broke for air, Sango found she was still standing but his head had disappeared. Looking down, she realized he was bending to her breast, one arm tightly wrapped behind her, pulling her to his waist even as her upper body bowed away from him. As she leaned back, she felt only the slightest brush of his hair against her skin until his moist breath warmed her soft flesh. When his tongue licked at her nipple, the sensation was so surprising, it almost didn't register in her brain. But on the second and third lap of his tongue, warmth began pooling in her deeply and slowly, threatening to collapse her once again. He didn't stop, but moaned into her hungrily as his whole body moved against her, excited and expressing its need.

 

Finally, he rose back up and she fell against his chest gasping with pleasure she'd only ever imagined was possible. Somehow she knew he was smiling as he held her to him, pressing his lips to her hair and wrapping her in his arms. She smiled to herself, so happy to be with him like this, feeling the fabric of his robes against her bare skin, knowing he wanted her, wanting him. She saw his smile before raising her eyes to take in his handsome face.

 

“You look different with your hair down.” She had a tease in her voice she hadn't necessarily intended.

 

“So do you.” He kissed her forehead and slipped his hands under her open kimono, down her back to cup the bare skin of her rear. Giving her a meaningful look, he dared her with raised eyebrows. Are you going to slap me?

 

“I guess I can't slap you for that tonight, can I?” There was that playful tone in her voice again. She liked it; liked the feeling of playing and enjoyment again. I don't remember the last time I played…

 

“No.” He lowered his mouth to hers and they kissed, sealing their new agreement. “Maybe in the presence of others, I'll allow it,” he smiled, “but not alone. Not anymore.” The authority in his voice excited her as another barrier went down between them, and he bore a new level of responsibility for her. An echo of her father's power resonated in his words, comforting her, but this was different, for she now bore responsibility for him as well.

 

“Will you keep your hands to yourself now?” She just had to ask, thinking she knew the answer, hoping she did. His eyebrows raised into the shadows of his hair. “Well… to yourself and to… my… me?” She giggled nervously.

 

“Hm.” She couldn't tell if he were trying to provoke her or was genuinely thinking and she was just about to say something sharp when he spoke. “Might I have to continue my former habits? For appearance sake?” He looked at her and saw the lack of humor in her eyes. “Or… not.” Apparently, she still didn't look convinced and he took a breath. “Sango, do you bind yourself to me, really?” Her heart beat wildly, wondering if she were committing herself to a man for whom other women would always be an irresistible draw, but knowing it may be the price of having him.

 

“Yes.” As the whisper left her lips, she knew that in that moment she had become his. Whatever the price and whatever the reward she would only ever be his wife.

 

“Then my hands are and will only ever be - yours.” He spoke with certainty, calming her worries. She moved in to kiss him, but he stopped her, looking again into her eyes. “I will be yours, Sango, if you'll have me, the little I can offer you and the risk that I bring to us.” She started to speak and he stilled her voice with a finger pressed to her lips. “Sango. I know what you said and I deeply appreciate it. But I do want you to think about the risk, and be sure, before the night is over.”

 

She nodded and they gazed at each other again. His eyes were so dark in the night's pale light his face even more shadowed with the little fall of his hair around his cheeks and neck. She nodded again and reached up on her toes to kiss him. He kissed her back, pressing his mouth to hers gently. The warm movements of their lips were soon complemented by skimming hands, his returning to her breasts and hers moving up to his neck to play in his loosened hair. This was him, her Miroku, not her houshi, but her man. She felt the strong corded tendons on his neck as he bent to her, and once again she felt the hardness of his body underneath his robes. Suddenly, she felt the need to see him and feel him fully, so she moved her hands to the tie on his chest. He smiled into her open lips.

 

After a moment, he broke away to watch as her hands moved over the complicated ties that bound his robes. He held his arms away from his sides, and she peeled the heavy fabric back one layer at a time, bringing the clefts and ridges of his chest into the light first, followed by angular lines and hard swells of muscle. He was so lean under the large robes, his hair wild out of its bonds, it was like looking at another person emerge from a shell as the robe dropped away. She was surprised to see a bulge in his only remaining clothing, loose-fitting pants that went down to mid-calf. She shouldn't have been surprised, of course, but it was one thing to feel it as a hardness behind her and quite another to see it, or the indications of it. She swallowed, feeling the blood rush again to her cheeks as she noticed her own bare breasts and realized that almost all the barriers were down.

 

Almost of its own accord, her hand moved to his pants and she gasped a little as he instinctively responded to her light touch on the fabric with an immediate push back into her hand. She heard him suck in his breath as her fingers wrapped carefully around his length, testing his width, pressing gently into his hardness. He blew a soft moan into her hair as he moved to embrace her again and the bare skin of their chests met for the first time… so warm. Her fingers moved carefully, not sure how much pressure to apply.

 

After a moment of this she whispered into the skin of his neck, “you'll have to tell me what to do… what makes you happy.” Her blush was back, burning her cheeks.

 

“You can press harder,” he said, his breath at her temple now; she heard it catch in his throat as she pressed her hand against him with a little more effort. “Harder.”

 

She tried but couldn't get a good grip around him through the barrier of the fabric. Her heart pounding, she reached around him, slipping her thumbs under the band of fabric and skimming them along the warm skin of his waist until she found the tie. His hands hovered at her shoulders, while he moved back only enough to look down between their bodies, watching her hands pull at the cloth until he was revealed and she sucked her breath at the same time as a warm flush of liquid excitement came between her legs. The visual and visceral reaction to him was exhilarating. So big! She'd seen them, of course, but not like this. She swallowed and touched him again. So soft.

 

Before she could touch him more, his hands slipped up under the fabric at her shoulders and began to urge it down off her. She let her hands fall away so that the kimono and hadajuban came down together. Watching his eyes widen as her body emerged into the night, she thrilled at his obviously growing excitement. He caught her clothing as it came off and laid it down over his robes, spreading them out together. But instead of inviting her down, he returned to stand with her, wrapping her in a warm hug, letting his hands move over her and releasing her a little when she tentatively reached to touch him again.

 

Following his whispered request, she moved her hands harder and faster over him and it wasn't long until he was groaning again into her hair, bringing his hands to her breast and face, pulling her mouth up to his for another kiss. They were both somewhat more distracted this time and the kiss was merely a supplement to the pleasure roaming wild in their bodies, pushing them into each other, urging them down to the ground.

 

Miroku went first, falling slowly to his knees and pulling her down on top of him as he lay back on their clothing. She was very aware of him under her, completely naked except for his wrist-wrap and beads. He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen and his body felt warm everywhere they touched. The fire's embers glowed a few feet away and the dark night sky, glowing brightly with moon and stars, spread out above them. For a moment, she simply lay against him, feeling the softness and hardness of his body under her, resting her ear on his chest to listen to his heart beat thudding strongly. She felt a swell of emotion, aware of how truly close they were for the first time, despite having been together for so long. She raised her head up to look at him and found him staring at the sky above them. He looked down at her and their eyes met.

 

“Houshi,” she was suddenly curious, “what are you thinking?”

 

“He smiled mischievously, “I'm wishing you would call me by my name.”

 

“Oh!” She was embarrassed, wondering if she'd insulted him somehow. “I'm sorry-“ she was feeling flustered, “I, uh-“

 

“It's `Miroku',” he smiled, his eyes laughing in the dark.

 

“Yes, uh, `Miroku',” her blush was so deep she was sure he could see it glowing even in the dark. “I, uh, I'm honored, uh, to call you, `Miroku.'”

 

He laughed, and very quickly both his amusement and her embarrassment converted to desire when he lifted her by the arms, slipping her up over his chest to meet his lips in another kiss. As their bodies moved against each other, Sango became very aware that they were close to it, the position where it was done. She became nervous, opening her eyes and probably stiffening up a bit. Miroku opened his eyes too and dropped his head back to look at her.

 

“Are you nervous?” He asked quietly.

 

“Yes,” she whispered back. How was he so sensitive to her feelings? He always - well, almost always - seemed to know how she was feeling and what would make her feel better.

 

“Let me make it easier on you, then,” he flashed an intentionally lecherous grin at her and her heart jumped as he rolled her over and settled his weight on top of her, pushing his hardness into her hipbone. Leaning on one elbow, he brought his unprotected hand up to cup her breast, brushing his thumb across her hardening nipple. He was smiling down at her like she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. His hand pushed her breast up a little, pressing it closer to his lips so he could lower his mouth to her easily. With a warm exhale, he brought his tongue and then his lips to her, circling a wet ring so the breeze of his inhale tickled her before he came down on her with his open mouth, hungering against her breast with a desire that burrowed deeply into her and fueled her own growing need for him. His body tightened around her as she gasped and arched into him.

 

She felt his excitement and heard it in his grunts as he pushed into her, and she began to wonder if he was getting ready to do it. Her heart began beating in her chest harder and her breath came shorter and she began to steel herself for what she thought must be coming next - the pain. Every girl whispered about it before her wedding night and Sango had overheard enough of these clandestine gossip sessions to know it would hurt. When she was much younger, she'd thought she wouldn't want to get married and would never have to face it. And then, when she was older, she assumed that it was just something a girl had to endure. But now, with him on her, breathing, holding, sucking, moaning, pressing… seeing him, his size, his length, his hardness pressing into the flesh of her hip and stomach… it all seemed rather frightening. She was very excited, and had begun to want him, but now, she was starting to think maybe it would go quickly and be over soon so they could just hold each other under the stars.

 

“Sango?” Miroku's voice held a note of concern. “What's wrong?”

 

“Oh,” she snapped out of her mental worry, “I'm sorry.” She moved her fingers through his hair. “Nothing's wrong.” He hitched himself up to look down at her, his eyes glittering darkly in the shadow of his face.

 

“You're still nervous, aren't you?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” she said after a short hesitation. There was really no hiding it.

 

“Would it make you feel any better if I told you a secret?” His voice was low, as if he didn't want the trees around them to hear.

 

“Yes,” she smiled.

 

“This is my first time, too.”

 

“What?” This was the last thing she expected to hear from Miroku, of all people. “How can that be?”

 

“Why are you so surprised?” He seemed genuinely startled at her response, which amazed her.

 

“Why?” She blinked up at him. “Because you go after every woman we meet, so I just assumed someone - sometime - responded to you - your-“

 

“Ah.” He made a soft huffing sound and his breath came across her cheek. “As you've observed yourself, it's been the bane of my existence. The women I would have wouldn't have me, at least beyond a little groping behind the bathhouse. As I'm all too sure you know a traveling houshi has little to offer a woman in the way of marriage. And the women that would have me - or I should say, would let me pay for them - were of no interest to me.” She saw him smile again. “I think they were all just helping me to save myself for you.” His smile drooped a little. “I would like to think that we want each other. But perhaps you are reconsidering? I did ask you to think about this and to be sure…”

 

“No!” Her voice was louder than she'd intended. “That's not it,” she said more softly. “I've just heard that-“ she swallowed, “it hurts. That's all.”

 

“Oh.” He looked over her head, into the night, thinking. “And if we can only do this once now, maybe it would leave you unhappy if your memory of love with me was pain.” There was sadness in his voice. “Then we won't.” He said simply as he looked back down on her. “I told you I would rather die than cause you pain, Sango.”

 

“No.” She swallowed the tightness in her throat, not knowing what to say. “This isn't how I want it to end either… Miroku.” She put her feelings for him into the sound of his name and saw him smile as he heard it.

 

“Well,” the smile was back in his voice now too, “I did learn a few things behind the bathhouse we might be able to use.”

 

Before she could say anything, he'd deposited a small kiss on her forehead and disappeared down her body, which responded to the cool breeze left behind as his warmth left her skin.

 

“What are you doing?” She was afraid there was still some panic in her voice that he might find worrisome, but he only laughed and she heard his voice even as she felt his breath on the tops of her thighs. Her heart was speeding up again.

 

“Well, I can't say I'm an expert,” his voice was lowering, as though he were becoming distracted, “but I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy this. And I'm positive it won't hurt.” As soon as he stopped talking, she felt something warm and wet slip in between her legs, into the folds where that liquid heat had been pooling. She gasped and giggled all at once, squirming a bit at the unfamiliar sensation. He had just touched her with his tongue! There! She kept giggling as his tongue moved quickly to circle the little nub, like he was stalking it. She felt a flush run through her body as feelings she'd only ever felt the echo of flooded her. Her breathing was fast and puffy and she almost asked him to stop so she could try to relax, but she really didn't want him to stop. Instead, she concentrated on taking deeper breaths and felt her body start to soften.

 

It was wonderful, these surges of pleasure that were beginning to move in her with the movements of his tongue. It was disconcerting, though, the way the feeling would be very intense and then just as she thought it would become too overwhelming, he would move away from that spot and the intensity would drop off. Her body felt almost too attuned to his movements, on an overload of sensation. But despite this, more and more excitement bubbled inside her, tightening, building, and she began to hear little pants and groans push at the back of her throat, asking permission to emerge. Suddenly, the sounds escaped in a deep groan as she squeezed her eyes shut and her body tensed, pulling into an intense contraction with a motion all its own, drawing her into a sweep of pleasure that rushed through her along with the sounds moaning out of her mouth. A flash of color lit the back of her eyelids and she found herself pushing his head away, trying to get that tongue of his off that incredibly, suddenly sensitized spot.

 

He rose back up to her side, wiping his smiling mouth with the back of his wrist wrap and making sure she saw him lick and smack his lips softly. She giggled again at the expression of satisfaction on his face.

 

“That didn't hurt, did it?” He asked as he lowered his head and kissed her in the little hollow where her neck met her collarbone.

 

“Uh-uh.” It was all she could say. She felt another contraction below her belly, pulling her knees into a curl, and she knew for the first time a hunger deep inside her - for him - for him to share this need her body had, this desire. As she felt his hardness press against her thigh again, the worry about pain somehow became much less important. “Miroku,” her eyes were closed, concentrating on the continuing clenches of pleasure inside, “I think… I'm not so worried about the pain right now.” She pulled at him, silently asking him to shift his weight fully over her.

 

“Hmmmm,” he responded to her invitation and moved willingly to cover her, lowering his head until his mouth was right next to her ear, his loosened hair tickling her nose. “Sango, are you sure about this?”

 

“Yes.” To emphasize her point, her hands moved down his back, almost of their own accord, to cup his rear and pull him to her. He responded with a tilt of his hips, driving himself against her with a little moan. She marveled at her own body, how it wanted to touch him everywhere, how it seemed to want him even more than she did.

 

“I'll do my best then,” she heard some humor in his voice, but also some trepidation. Maybe this really was his first time. The thought excited her further and made her feel special.

 

She felt his knee push down between hers, urging her thighs apart. She complied and bent her legs, opening herself to him. His weight shifted and his chest lifted off her as he moved down to position himself against her open hips. Her heart sped up as she felt his hardness press tentatively against her, somewhat off-center. She felt him huff out a little frustration as he tried to enter her several times. Overcoming her embarrassment, she decided to help them both avoid some discomfort.

 

“It's dark down there.” She rose to kiss his cheek, reaching her hand down to hold him and guide him. Her heart was slamming in her ears and some of the fear returned as she felt him push gently into her. Even though there was plenty of wetness to help him slide in easily, her body tensed involuntarily as the tight muscles were pushed aside for the first time, making room for him within her, slowly engulfing him. After a brief push in, he realized she was holding her breath.

 

“Are you okay?” His voice was strained and she could feel the tension in his shoulders under her fingers as he held himself still inside her.

 

“Yes,” she breathed finally, “just go slow.”

 

“I'll try…” he was panting a little as he pushed in a little more, stopping until her body had relaxed again. Soon he encountered some resistance, and she pushed at his chest, knowing this was the pain barrier, but not knowing what to do about it. He started to pull in and out, just bumping that barrier a few times. His movement felt good, but she began to realize he was never going to get through like this.

 

“Miroku,” she whispered, “it's okay… just do it.” He raised his head to look at her and she saw true anguish on his face. He really doesn't want to hurt me. Understanding this touched her and she smiled, putting her hands on his face and kissing him. “It's really okay. I'll be fine, and if it hurts very much, you'll be here to comfort me.” He looked slightly relieved at her words and lowered his head to kiss her. As they kissed, he began to move into her with more strength; and in one thrust she felt a sharp pain and squeaked into his mouth. He stopped moving immediately and lifted up again to look worriedly at her.

 

She looked over his shoulder, staring up at the stars, trying to determine the nature of the pain and whether it was receding or growing. She felt him in her, felt his tension and appreciated that he was waiting for her to say something. She took a deep breath and noticed the pain had lessened.

 

“It's okay, I think.” She shifted her eyes to his.

 

“Good.” He moved gently in her again, slowing as she tensed at a twinge or two from deep inside. As she relaxed more he came down on her mouth in another kiss, probing into her softly everywhere and pulling an arm behind her shoulders to draw her into him as he began to move over and in her more urgently. After a bit, his body found its own rhythm and she heard little grunts from his chest. Soon, he broke from the kiss, placing his cheek against hers, eyes closed in concentration. She did not feel the pleasure she'd felt before when he'd licked her. This was different, not a building excitement but an exposure, a giving of herself that she found thrilling as his excitement built and she heard his noises come more quickly. There was just enough pain left to keep her from fully relaxing and so she concentrated on his enjoyment.

 

“Oh…” he breathed out, “Sango…” He did seem to be enjoying himself and this made her smile into his hair.

 

He was moving quickly now, pushing himself harder and harder into her, pulling her to him so that she could hardly breathe. He panted and groaned above her; if she hadn't known differently, she would have thought he was in pain. Somewhere deep in her brain she hoped he hurried, but the rest of her was excited and trying to focus on all the new sensations, the slip of their sweaty skin, the feel of his hardness in her, the strain on her legs as they parted so fully, and especially on his excitement, his desire, his hunger for her that sent her heart skipping wildly at the thought that they'd chosen each other and in a very important way, were in the process of consummating their bond at this very moment.

 

“Ah!” his voice was loud and he almost sounded surprised as his body stiffened and she felt a pumping sensation up inside her, even though he hardly moved. “Ahhhhhh…” he said more softly as he pushed gently into her again, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them to look at her, a huge smile on his face that made her heart lift along with the corners of her mouth.

 

“Houshi-“ she breathed the word so naturally into his neck. He didn't seem to mind, bringing his hands to cup her face and kiss her lips softly.

 

“Sango,” he said into her mouth as he kissed her over and over again, reverently and gently. Suddenly, she was overcome with emotion, wrapping herself around him, loving the feeling of him inside her. So many barriers had come down already, she felt brave enough to broach one more.

 

“I love you, Miroku,” she said, wondering how he would respond, feeling both scared and daring. He stopped kissing her and looked into her eyes, which she realized were now brimming with tears. His eyes were hard to read in the dark, but she thought she sensed some of the sadness he'd shown earlier. He was quiet for a moment, his hands still cupping her face, and she held her breath.

 

“Sango,” he said finally, his voice low and full of emotion, “I love you too. For the rest of time, dead or alive, I will love you.” He closed his eyes and kissed her deeply. She clutched her body to him, pushing away the fear that this may be the last time she felt him so very close.

 

+++++++++

 

They slept under the night sky, skin to skin under his robes. As the early dawn filtered around them to fade the stars and the quarter moon still hanging in the sky, Sango awoke and smiled, feeling his warmth against her. She was still a little sore from the night before and it made her feel different, as though anyone that looked at her would somehow notice that she'd changed. She just barely kept herself from snickering into her hand, but she couldn't stop her blush even though no one could see it. Miroku stirred behind her and she rolled to face him, enjoying the feel of his skin, its hardness and softness. His eyes gazed at her with open intensity within the frame of his loosened hair.

 

She saw it then, unmistakable in the growing daylight, the result of their bonding. She didn't just feel different, she was different, and so was he. The dark eyes above his smile clearly spoke as he looked down on her face; mine they said.

 

“I think the others will be back today,” she said softly, tracing a finger between the muscles of his chest.

 

“Yes.” He accepted her touch without comment, as though it were the most natural thing she could do with her hand at that particular moment.

 

“Think we can keep this a secret?” She was dying to tell Kagome what they'd done, but knew also that she now had a stronger tie to Miroku than even her best friend. She was his now, fully and forever.

 

“We can try,” Miroku brought his hand up from where it rested on her hip to stroke her cheek. “I suspect InuYasha will take two sniffs and figure out what happened.” Sango blushed deeply. “I doubt he'll say anything, though,” he added reassuringly.

 

“Kirara will figure it out too, and probably even Shippou's nose will twitch.” Sango began to realize that there was no way they could keep this a secret from their friends, and suddenly she didn't care. “It's okay, though.” Miroku raised his eyebrows at her, appearing pleased. “If they know, then it will be okay if we hold hands sometimes, and maybe kiss, and… leave the group at night occasionally…”

 

“Sango,” Miroku put on the most adorable look of mock surprise, “are you saying you'd like to do this again?”

 

“Well, after Naraku, of course.” She glanced away, wondering if he could detect her lie. They were quiet for a few moments, enjoying the growing heat under the robe.

 

“I suppose there is one upside if the others know,” he said, thinking out loud. “Maybe Kagome will give you some more of those little… things.”

 

They both laughed and soon wound up in another kiss.

 

No. This wasn't going to stay a secret for very long.

 

The End.