InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Odds n Ends: Adults Only ❯ Poison Flower (Inu Taisho/Sess) ( Chapter 3 )

Disclaimer: The characters of InuYasha are not mine, they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

 

Title: Poison Flower
Rating: NC17
Warnings: incest, anal penetration, yaoi, minor (Sesshy = maybe 16-18?)
Pairing: Inu Taisho and Sesshoumaru

 

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“You look just like your mother.”

Sesshoumaru wakes to the hot breath in his ear, on his neck. He feels long, cruel, familiar fingers tracing the gap in his yukata from the hollow at the base of his throat, down the lean plane of his firm young chest, to the knot of the belt.

Then why don't you go haunt her bed, he wants to snap back; but he knows already. Mother would never tolerate this invasion of her personal space. Formidable in her calm, terrifying in her fury, his mother would never allow his father this. His mother takes what she wants, when she wants it and even his father—strong, mighty inu taiyoukai—bows to her will.

His father's claws scrape lightly over his skin, raising goose bumps and agitating the nerves there with their tickling sensation. The beginning of arousal stirs in his abdomen with a slow churning of something that is almost excitement, almost nausea. Despite himself, Sesshoumaru shivers.

“Hooo,” his father purrs huskily in his ear. “Are you awake my son?”

Sesshoumaru lays unresponsive for a moment longer, squeezing his eyes shut as two hot, bitter tears trail down his cheeks. Within that second, he allows himself to pretend he can wish it all away. He fights the urge to pull the covers over his head and hide—but his father is already between the sheets with him and there is no escape.

“Yes Father,” he answers obediently.

“Are you happy to see me?” his father pants as his hand slips across Sesshoumaru's taunt, smooth abdomen.

“Yes Father,” he answers; his calm voice dead of all emotion. He grits his teeth as his father's cool fingers slither down to cup his genitals.

“You lie,” his father chastises him.

Sesshoumaru is silent; his entire attention consumed by the control needed to keep his body from responding to the gentle, pulling strokes of his father's fingertips. It is a losing battle, but he cannot help but try. He is able to resist—barely—and his father's sound of frustrated impatience is a small, grim victory that he will savor later when he is once more alone.

His father presses against his side, throwing one long, muscular leg over his son's, and Sesshoumaru can feel his father's erection, hard and hot and twitching against his hip. He knows intimately what it feels like, what it will feel like, to have that thing inside of him and he shivers again. His control weakens slightly as repulsive anticipation stirs his arousal. His young body heats, a light flush overtaking his usually pale skin, and his father's purr of approval is lost amid Sesshoumaru's own hungry, lusty growl as Sesshoumaru hardens within the encircling grip of his father's hand.

“My beautiful, delicate flower,” his father growls deeply in his ear as he nips his son's neck.

“Fuck you!” Sesshoumaru snarls back, his temper flaring as his passion ignites. “Sick perverted old geezer! I'm your SON!”

His father's other hand whips out to lock in a controlling grip around the back of neck of his offspring. Without compassion, his father digs his claws into Sesshoumaru's skin and drags his son's face a mere hair's breathe away from his own.

“Such a dirty, dirty mouth,” his father scolds him, but the underlying excitement in his voice is impossible to miss.

Saliva gathers in Sesshoumaru's mouth, and he longs to spit it in his father's smugly amused face, but he dares not. He wishes nothing more than to rend his father's body to pieces with his poison claws; to cover himself in his sire's blood and dance naked and triumphant under the cold light of the austere moon.

His growl crescendos as he imagines the savage glory of defeating his father and being the alpha male. His father's fingers circle his erection and squeeze, and Sesshoumaru's arousal crests within him as the stifled lust for blood flows into the carnal lust of his body.

“Hate you!” Sesshoumaru snarls as his hips thrust into his father's pumping hand.

His father captures his mouth with his and Sesshoumaru returns his father's kiss in a violent meeting of teeth and tongue. The restraining hand at the base of his neck is no longer necessary to force his compliance. Breaking away with a rough growl, Sesshoumaru sinks his claws into his father's shoulders and rolls on top of him, straddling his father's hips as he rubs his erection against his father's.

His father chuckles huskily, allowing Sesshoumaru the dominant position for a moment as he revels in his son's fiery, passionate response. With gentle fingers he cups Sesshoumaru's flushed face as his son grinds their erections together, brushing away the forgotten tear trails on Sesshoumaru's cheeks.

“You try so hard to be like your mother,” Inu Taisho whispers as he caresses his son's face, “Icy and regal, untouchable by all...but underneath you're just like me, all fire and temper.”

“I'm nothing like you!” Sesshoumaru grits out as he shifts position, trying to find just the right friction to send him over the edge.

Upon hearing his son's words, his father's indulgent mood abruptly sours. With a quick grab for his son's neck, he flips them over so that the slender length of his son's supple young body is pinned beneath the hard unforgiving weight of his. Nuzzling his son's pointed ear, Inu taisho rolls his hips slowly so that the large thickness of his erection slides along the valley between Sesshoumaru's buttocks.

“Beg me!” he rumbles in Sesshoumaru's ear.

“Never!” Sesshoumaru snarls back.

“Cry for me, like you did the first time,” he purrs low and dangerous in his son's ear, his claws flexing in Sesshoumaru's firm, muscular thighs.

“Go to hell!” Sesshoumaru grits out as his father's claws rake down the outside of his buttocks and thighs.

“Not until I'm old and grey, little flower. Not until you can defeat me first,” his father whispers with leisurely pleasure, his voice low and husky and rough like the sword calluses on his large hands. With one large palm splayed across his son's lower back, he holds Sesshoumaru down easily as he uses the first two fingers of his other hand to probe the delicate pucker of his son's anus. Coating the rosy, tender skin with a mixture of his son's own blood and semen, his father eases the tip of his index finger inside.

Sesshoumaru squirms under the press of his father's weight, futile struggles that he can no more suppress than he can hide his obvious excitement. Much to his embarrassment, each of his pants ends in a trembling, anxious sigh that reveals his equal parts impatience and gut churning fear. His father is ten times stronger than he, and in the heat of passion can just as easily tear him apart as a typhoon can shred a butterfly. Unbidden, a tiny whimper of distress trickles from his throat as his father continues his unhurried preparations behind him.

Wiggling the tips of his fingers, his father works their long elegant length inside until with a wet, satisfactory schlep the clench of his son's ass swallows them down to the knuckles.

“Eager, aren't we?” his father chuckles thickly, an edgy, ravenous growl of threat and dominance rumbling deep within his broad, bare, battle scarred chest.

Sesshoumaru can do nothing more but bare his teeth in an expression of desperate defiance, his usually pale skin almost translucent with his fright except for the bright blush of arousal that stains his cheeks, his buttocks, and his erection. Against the creamy marble of his skin, the bruised, plump redness of his lips is like the bloom of a blood red rose and the crimson stain of his blood is like dark wine. The crackled markings of his birthright flare with heat as the invisible embrace of his father's youki dances across his skin like whips of lightening.

The impressive span of his father's hands grip his slim hips, dragging them upward until Sesshoumaru's cheek is pressed into the sheets. The unforgiving nudge of his father's erection against his tender flesh is enough to wring a strangled sob from Sesshoumaru as his claws shred the sheets.

“Brace yourself,” his father whispers in warning as his hands clench and he begins to bear down, forcing himself inside.

“Please!” Sesshoumaru pleads blindly, whether in supplication or protest he doesn't know. “Please…” his voice breaks at the end with a sob, and tears sting his eyes as he burns with humiliation at his own weakness.

The cadence of his father's growl crescendos as the tip slides inside, vibrating through Sesshoumaru's young body with the force of a base drum. The pain begins, a slow building ache that is deceptively subtle, deceptively sweet. Sesshoumaru clenches his teeth, clenches his eyes shut, clenches his hands into fists as he feels the sensation increase. His breath catches in a choked sob as his father's hand tenderly cups his balls, and his erection gives a traitorous twitch of approval as his father's expert caress brings him closer to climax.

“I can be good to you, little flower; so good. Won't you whimper for me?” his father purrs enticingly as he coaxes Sesshoumaru's erection into an aching, throbbing hardness.

“Just like Mother?” Sesshoumaru spits out cruelly. The prick of his father's claws against his sensitive skin brings a hiss of pain through his teeth.

“She never whimpered for me. Bitch.”

Sesshoumaru's lips twist into an ugly smile. “Good.”

“I will make you pay for that, my son,” his father promises with cool retribution in his voice.

“You do anyways,” Sesshoumaru grits out as his father's hips piston forward, pinning him beneath the invasion of his father's erection, “You can't get it off unless you've got somebody else's blood on your dick. Mother won't let you treat her that way. She threw you out of her bed when you couldn't perform!”

“And so I come to yours, my treacherous venom flower. Because you like the blood play as much as I,” Inu Taisho whispers with sweet menace to his son.

“Liar!” Sesshoumaru hisses defensively, his father's insult finding its mark exactly.

“Deny it all you like. You cannot escape being like me any more than the sun can escape morning. Your blood, my blood inside of you, will always tell.”

“No!” Sesshoumaru howls as his father drags himself out of the tight grip of his son's ass.

“Yes,” his father growls, punctuating his statement with a strong, sharp thrust.

“Never,” Sesshoumaru snarls as his body gives a low grunt in protest, “I will surpass you and then I will kill you. Your death will be the only thing we have in common!”

“I will look forward to your failures then, my son. Know that I will not hesitate to claim my victor's reward from your body,” Inu Taisho counters smugly, his hips moving with smooth, deep thrusts as his fingers play over the hardness of his son's erection.

“I will kill you. Slowly. Every day for years to come,” Sesshoumaru swore between shallow pants, his body jerking with each impact of his father's hips. Beneath his father's touch, his balls tighten as the agonizing buildup of pleasure and pain threatens to implode into orgasm.

“Hate you,” Sesshoumaru curses as his hips begin to pump in time with his father's, his erection cradled in the slick, sticky palm of his father's hand.

“Hate you so much,” he swears thickly as the movement of his body shortens into quick ragged spasms, the muscles of his groin clenched tight as a fist. With a rough, hoarse snarl of derision and defiance, Sesshoumaru climaxes, the hot spurt of his seed spattering to cover the lean, ribbed muscles of his stomach and abdomen.

“Good boy,” his father mocks him with pleased, condescending praise.

“Hate you,” Sesshoumaru responds distractedly as his erection twitches and softens in his father's hand.

“My turn,” Inu Taisho gloats as he shoves Sesshoumaru's front further down and angles his son's ass higher in the air. Holding his son's hips in a bruising grip, he uses the long, powerful length of his battle conditioned body to force himself farther, deeper inside.

“Yes!” his father grits out as the heated friction drives him towards his own peek, the full usage of his considerable strength going unnoticed as he uses his own son brutally. Sesshoumaru's pain filled, gasping whimpers and the guttural, protesting grunts of his body fall like a soft counterpoint to Inu Taisho's harsh, chest deep pants. The pain endures for what seems like forever to Sesshoumaru; until he feels the telltale twitch of his father's erection inside of him.

In a thick, burning rush, he feels his father cum inside of him. One, two, three more jagged thrusts and his father is done. Within his bruised and aching ass, Sesshoumaru can feel the hot, slick, shivery wetness of his father's seed.

His father releases him abruptly, pulling out of him as he steps back and watches the limp, weak form of his son flop onto the ruined futon. Smirking a fanged smile of gleeful, wicked triumph, Inu Taisho steps around his son and kneels by his face. He encircles his son's face with one broad span of finger and thumb, turning Sesshoumaru's chin until his son's eyes meet his. He makes sure he has Sesshoumaru's attention before continuing.

“Play in your mother's garden for as long as you like, little flower. But until you prove to me that you have worth as a warrior I will treat you like the rest of the bitches; spread your legs and use you as such.”

Sesshoumaru's lips curl into beautiful, icy smile as his amber eyes harden to razor keen steel with hatred. “I'd rather `play' in my mother's garden than degrade myself to banging swords with you any day. Why should I come begging to you when she is stronger? Bitch she may be, but she has you whipped for sure.”

Sesshoumaru's words wipe the smug sneer from his father's face. With a vicious, well aimed kick to his son's stomach, Inu Taisho stalks out of the dim room with regal, deadly grace. Pausing at the door, he turns to face his son across the room.

“I will tell her what a disgrace I've made of her son if you so much as think of whining to her,” he enunciates with slow, perfect and effective clarity.

“I won't tell,” Sesshoumaru promises immediately as he struggles to prop himself up on one elbow, “I don't want to share one bit of my revenge when I kill you slowly.”

“Harbor your delusions, little flower, if they make you feel better,” his father laughs sardonically as he steps through the door and starts to close it.

“Some day,” Sesshoumaru vows, his young voice sweet and dark and eerily frightening as the aura of his deadly, killing intent fills the room.

Inu Taisho pauses for a fraction of a second, his eyes meeting those of his offspring. The silence in the room is breathlessly still as his father takes his threat seriously for the first time. The older inu taiyoukai does nothing to acknowledge his son's words, but Sesshoumaru knows that he heard them none the less.

He knows that his father will think on them in the near future.

In the coming years, his father will see him as a threat.

And in the end, his father will bleed for all that he has done.

Because Sesshoumaru always keeps his promises.

 

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