InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ My Life, My Love ❯ To Realize ( Chapter 19 )

:Chapter 19:

:To Realize:

 

`Clean version' can be found at: http://www.fanfiction.net/secure/live_preview.php?storyid=2089795&ch apter=21/

 

Sango woke as the sun streaming into her bedroom had risen into the sky: in stages. First, she registered warmth, a pulsating heat that made her feel the calmest she could remember feeling in a long time.

 

Then, she felt, rather than heard, Miroku's quiet breathing underneath her. It didn't occur to her that she should remove his arm from around her waist, or that she should roll off of his chest and uncurl herself from the cat-like ball she was in.

 

Why…she didn't know. But what she did know was that she felt ridiculously safe and unreasonably comfortable nestled underneath Miroku's chin, felt content just to be able to hear the air flow through his throat, signaling his life.

 

She wasn't sure how or why she's came to sleep in the same bed with him. Perhaps it was that way he had of seducing her without touching her. They were soul mates, after all. But, even with this knowledge, she knew it had something to do with this damn connection they had between them.

 

At least she now knew Miroku hadn't been lying to her this entire time.

 

She cursed him for that. At least if he had been lying, she could formulate an excuse as to why her body wouldn't listen to her when he was nearby.

 

But, blaming him for something he could control was entirely different than blaming him for something he couldn't. While she knew their minds had a lot to do with the situation, Sango knew it was also he body's response to him, that instinct that had been engraved into her so longs ago. That, she knew, was the reason why her body vibrated from the inside out whenever he came within ten feet of her. Damn her traitorous body…

 

She carefully lifted her head and tilted back, mindful not to wake him up, and stared into his face.

 

`How does he manage to act like a hellion when he's awake, but then have the audacity to look like a Kami-forsaken angel when he sleeps?' she thought with a sardonic smile.

 

Before she could stop to think, she raised her arm and traced his face with her fingers. They followed a delicate course from his hairline to his eyes, those angelic depths that held demonic pleasures and promises.

 

`For you…' a voice whispered.

 

Entranced, she touched each eyelid as if she'd never seen one, as if the thick eyelashes that protruded from the tips were some cynosure that called to her spirit. Her fingers continued to glide downward, past his nose. When she reached his lips, she froze.

 

`So soft,' she thought unexpectedly. She traced his upper lip, felt the ridges and dips of it. She knew she'd never find another pair of lips like Miroku's as long as she lived. They were, she thought, uniquely his.

 

She moved to touch his bottom lip, and when she did, she had the unreasonable urge to kiss him. She jolted with the thought, and then felt disgusted, as if her reaction was an abomination to her mind. She knew it was only her body, those instincts kicking her in the ass. And yet, she knew that just as those reactions she always had were natural, they'd take some getting used to. The urge raced through her again as Miroku's tongue quickly but noticeably ran across his bottom lip.

 

`Do it!' he nature cheered.

 

Sango hesitated. `I want to, but…'

 

`But?! But what?! Kiss him! He's right there, damn it!'

 

`What if he wakes up?'

 

Her nature snorted. `Then he'll wake up! He's your husband, and you know it. Besides, you know if he does wake up, which he will, he'll just kiss you back.'

 

Scowling, Sango grudgingly admitted that her nature was right. The worst that could happen would be for him to wake up and laugh at her. And if he did that, she'd kick his ass and really give him something to laugh about.

 

She touched her lips to his, not enough to wake him, but just enough to assure her nature that she could do it without her brain melting at the contact.

 

Miroku had woken up when he sensed Sango had. She didn't know it, but as she'd begun to unlock the mysteries and secrets of their connection, her mind was becoming increasingly synchronized with his. If she thought of something, and her defenses weren't up, he'd sense it automatically.

 

It came as a surprise to him, but it couldn't be helped. Besides, he thought, and mentally chuckled as her thoughts of him as a hellion drifted into his mind, it gave him a great advantage in trying to help her remember that they belonged together. When she began to hesitate around him, he had only but to dip into her mind and retrieve what he wanted. As devious as it seemed, it was necessary.

 

He'd kept his eyes closed for the better part of her little exploration. He didn't mind, but rather enjoyed the slight pressure of her fingertips on his face, despite the fact that everywhere she touched, his nerve endings were practically going nuclear. And he damn near almost had to bite his tongue to prevent him from giggling out loud as she ran her fingernail across his eyelid.

 

But when she'd found her way to his lips…

 

The heat of her skin seemed to increase ten-fold as she'd damn near fondled his bottom lip. He wasn't sure if he should `stay asleep' or if he should `wake up'. He'd picked up on her nature, the culmination of her old self, telling…no—demanding—that Sango kiss him. That was when he made his decision: he'd pleasantly kept his eyes closed, just to wait and see if she'd heed her nature.

 

And then, when she'd covered his mouth with her own…

 

He'd seen the Northern Lights beneath his closed eyelids. Right there, when she'd cautiously pressed her lips to his, seemingly as a mere test of her control, his had snapped.

Before his actions could wind their way into his fog-ridden brain, he'd flipped her over and deepened the kiss.

 

Sango's surprised gasp had only serviced to fan that proverbial flame, that hell-consuming fire that wouldn't go out. That gasp, he thought, was the key to her undoing, as well as, he realized, his own. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and all but shuddered at the sweetness of the crevices in it, that distinct flavor that his mind simply computed as: Sango.

 

When her surprise had faded, and her defenses fell completely away, she gave a throaty moan and wrapped her arms around his neck.

 

He couldn't stop now even if he'd wanted to.

 

Sango's entire body was on fire. When she'd kissed him, she hadn't expected him to suddenly awaken and jump her on the spot.

 

`Yes you did. You knew he'd do it,' her nature gloated.

 

Okay, so she had known. Somewhere in the bowels and recesses of her mind, she'd known the whole time. But now that he was…well, she wouldn't complain.

 

Her brain registered a moan, of pleasure, of desperation. Her eyes were closed but she could clearly see him, them, in her mind, so clearly in fact, she felt as if she were looking into a mirror.

 

She wondered why it was a mirror of all things, why such a trivial thing had appeared in the midst of what Miroku was doing to her. But when Miroku's lips slipped from her own to lick a trail of fire down her throat and to the swell of her breasts, the mirror shattered into a billion shards. She couldn't stop the needy whimper that passed through her sensitized lips as his mouth closed over her tee-shirt-covered nipple. It stood to reason that it would pebble in response to the moist heat, becoming a stiff peak that made her moan and arch against him all the more.

 

Miroku's taste buds were singing. He'd gone too long, far too long, without this spice, Sango's essence. He'd studied the body's reaction to physical pleasure, he's mastered it in college, was even getting a degree in it in about two month's time. But not even that degree, with all its power and the educational prestige that went along with it, could prepare him for this, nor could it justify the fact that Sango's body was going to be the death of him.

 

He'd seen that little mirror in his mind, seen that look of raw feminine sexual appetite in Sango's eyes.

 

He couldn't ignore it.

 

For an instant, her brain had started up again, had started to question the bond between them. He'd felt her mind tremble with questions, felt it tremble with wonder at the mirror.

 

He knew what it was. It was their connection to each other, the mental representation of the physical bond. It was important that she know that, and he knew she'd ask about it later, but for right now, her breasts, which were straining against his chest, needed dire attention.

 

His mouth blazed its way down her throat and shamelessly latched onto her right nipple. He felt it bud on his tongue and nibbled, just for the sheer pleasure of hearing his name roll off of her lips in a broken and breathless whisper. His hands trailed down the length of her body, rode the curves of her waist and hips. He hooked his thumbs on the waistband of her thin shorts and brought them down, along with her underwear, in one firm tug. And then he felt her tense.

 

“Miroku,” she breathed, regretful for the loss of the flames that were masquerading as his lips. “Wait.”

 

He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. He sensed hesitation, fear even, in her voice.

 

`Don't be afraid of me, Sango.'

 

She jumped as the unspoken words slid through her, seemingly forgetting about the bond.

 

`I-I don't think—'

 

`Don't think. Don't think at all right now. Just feel. Feel me, my love.'

 

With that, Miroku grinned, he grinned that damn devil-grin of his that would effectively continue to devastate Sango forevermore. Then he dropped his head.

 

Sango's brain stopped working again. He'd lifted her leg to kiss her calf, to the inside of her knew, and finally, her inner thigh. He chuckled as she squirmed, desperately trying to move away from the heat of his mouth.

 

If he wasn't able to read her thoughts, he probably would've back off, sensing what seemed to be an air of discomfort.

 

Too bad he could. And her mind, at that very moment was screaming at him to do what he wanted to do since he'd seen her at his `Welcome Home' party. He chuckled lowly.

 

Sango's body arched off the bed as Miroku's tongue ran itself across the core of her. She didn't now why she was reacting the way she was, seeing as how she'd known their being together would've eventually led to this; this and more, judging by Miroku's thoughts. But that didn't matter. Because right then, when his tongue hit that little nub of nerves in the center, she nearly lost her mind.

 

She arched, she twisted, she writhed. She cried out, and begged him to stop. Urged him to, because what he made her feel were things she wasn't ready to feel, didn't know how to feel.

 

And he didn't stop; even as the sky opened up and rained star dust on her, as the blinding light of her orgasm hit her, wave after wave, because he knew…

 

He knew what she was feeling.

 

It was love.

 

Love: that sneaky little emotion that had a tendency to kick you in the ass when you weren't looking. He knew it. And he knew that if he knew it, she would too.

 

Sango sobbed out of desperation, and fear, and love. She pleaded with him to stop, to slow down, to leave her to herself, anything to make him stop loving her.

 

But it wasn't enough.

 

Miroku was relentless.

A/N:

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Final Deliberation: Miroku:

`So she thought she could kiss and get away with it…'

All characters from InuYasha are copyrighted to Rumiko Takahashi. This applies to any and all chapters of My Life, My Love.