InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Primal ❯ Battle of Wills ( Chapter 2 )

Edited by thyme_cat.

 

A/N: Lemon alert, and still not romantic. You've been warned. For an edited version, please follow the link to FFnet available on my profile.

 

Thanks to my reviewers on Mmorg: sesshomarus1lover, Megan Consoer, freakhorrorchick, shadowwolf_02

 

Disclaimer: I do not own any character created by Rumiko Takahashi.

 

Chapter 2 - Battle of Wills

 

Sesshomaru tensed and released a finger muscle experimentally, all the while keeping his eyes focused on the female's back as she drank at the stream. Inordinately pleased by the tiny movement, he tested the rest of fingers until he was positive that they would obey him. The female had not noticed. Good.

 

Careful not to move and betray his returning mobility, he tightened his quadriceps, then his calves, curled his toes… Everything seemed to be in working order; now to make his move when she would not be able to paralyze him.

 

Many had accused him of being arrogant and overconfident in battle. It was a false accusation: he knew his great strength and found none who could match it. However, he also knew when a battle was not worth fighting and when to postpone the final outcome to another day (retreat was not in his vocabulary). In this case, postponement was not an option, for he would not tolerate being slung over her shoulder in such a degrading manner, and neither was facing his opponent in an honorable challenge, for she used underhanded tactics. No, stealth and restraint were required if he wanted to keep his dignity and the female intact.

 

By all rights, he should flay her and leave her for the scavengers for what she had done to him. To think that she had seduced and subdued this Sesshomaru, abducting him and leaving his pack defenseless! It was outrageous and grotesque, an assault against his person that would not go unpunished…but he would rather not dispose of her. She was his and would be taught to respect him.

 

He froze when she shifted, leaning forward on her knees to bring herself closer to the water, her backside rising into the air and offering him a fine view of her feminine charms under the short, green skirt. Apparently, she had not replaced her undergarments, not that he was complaining. His cock twitched impatiently and he had to agree; that was an invitation if he'd ever seen one.

 

Coiling his muscles until they hummed and sang, he waited until she had splashed a handful of water onto her face, and then he sprang. Twisting out of the heap in which he'd been dropped and shooting through the air toward her, he pounced onto her back, shoving her head under the water with his upper body and trapping her bent legs with his thighs. He wrapped his arm around her chest and pinned her upper arms to her sides.

 

She struggled fiercely, thrashing her body in serpentine jerks with more strength than he'd expected and splashing them both liberally with the icy river water, but he held fast, clamping his teeth on the back of her neck. Finally, her body quieted, quivering but no longer fighting him, and he yanked the red cloth from the collar of her blouse. Demons could survive quite awhile without breathing, but he didn't want to test her limits yet. Pulling her head out of the water and stuffing the strip of fabric in her mouth before she could release a cloud of venom, he recovered his grip on her torso, maintaining his hold on her nape with his teeth and grinding his pelvis into her bottom in an unmistakable show of dominance.

 

Breathing heavily through her nose, she answered with a growl that was far from submissive, the sound muffled by the cloth, though the sweetness of her scent intensified. Again, he pushed against her, unable to banish from his mind the sight of that pink slit that had peeked at him from between her smooth cheeks. Unfortunately, he could not subdue her and undo his hakama at the same time. He soundly, silently cursed his brother for the loss of his arm, his frustration escalating when he noticed that she'd left a wet spot on the crotch of his pants when she'd returned his pressure.

 

What an infuriating little nymph she was, but perhaps there was there was still hope of relief in this situation. Marginally relaxing his hold on her arms but increasing the tension in his jaws, he paused, waiting to see if she would resume her fight or remain quiet. Another growl bubbled from her throat, but she didn't move anything but her hips, which rolled against him in obvious encouragement. Scooting them away from the sandy bank of the river, he pushed her bent form down with his body until she lay facedown, flat on the ground with his arm trapped under her breasts. Releasing her neck, he walked his knees up her body until they pinned her hands and he could slide his arm from underneath her. She squirmed suddenly, almost freeing a wrist before he grabbed it and bent it behind her, shoving it between his teeth. Back bent at an almost impossible angle, he wrenched her other wrist from its cage between his knee and her thigh, bringing it to join her other wrist and grasping both in his hand.

 

`Now what?' he huffed, letting a small puff of air escape his nose though his face remained impassive. His obi would have been useful to bind her wrists because he could not allow her to remove the gag, but the yellow sash was long gone. Irritated and past the point of patience, he sat on her hands and delivered a sharp blow to the back of her head, only releasing her body when he was positive that she was unconscious.

 

XxxxxxxX

 

“Fuck!” Inuyasha shouted as he stomped a circle around the small, trampled patch of forest ground, his sensitive nose catching and cataloguing the disturbing scents that still permeated the foliage.

 

Miroku used the golden arch of his staff to prod a piece of white fabric dotted with cartoon cat faces that hung from a low growing bush. “I would have to agree with you on that, my friend.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, monk!” the hanyou snapped. It was not possible; no fucking way that what his nose was telling him was true.

 

“Aren't those Kagome's…” Sango started, and then blushed, snatching the undergarment from the bush and stuffing them in the girl's yellow backpack.

 

Inuyasha aimed a kick at a white kimono, decorated at the shoulder and wrists with a delicate red floral design, not at all satisfied that the dirt-smudged garment fluttered weakly away from his foot to land on a pile of white fur. The kimono's short flight uncovered a white loincloth, goading the hanyou into another colorful round of swearing.

 

Sango grimaced; she had been exposed to foul language and bawdy humor when she'd done jobs with the demon slayers, and Inuyasha could not be accused of being a prude, but she had never heard anything quite like what was coming out of his mouth.

 

Her eyes traveled to a pair of swords that had been careless discarded in the underbrush. Next to them lay several pieces of spiked armor that looked quite harmless without their fearsome master. Sidling up to Miroku, she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, “So, at least we know she's still alive, right?”

 

Miroku nodded, and then commented on one of Inuyasha's more choice phrases. “Inuyasha, I don't think it would fit.”

 

“I'll make it fit!”

 

Sango rolled her eyes. “And she's probably okay?”

 

He nodded again, unwilling to dash her fragile hopes, the rings on his staff chiming a cheerful counterpoint to the hanyou's irate shouting. Miroku didn't think she was `okay' at all; there was something seriously wrong with their friend if she was surviving falls off of tall cliffs and seducing demon lords. “I think that if she'd been harmed, he would be doing less swearing and more chasing after,” he shot a quick look at the hanyou, who was crouched on the ground and sniffing at the dirt, “you-know-who.”

 

The friends watched as Inuyasha crawled forward, his nose to the ground, until he was several yards away from the patch of trampled undergrowth and strewn clothing. He rose up on his haunches, staring into the forest with wild eyes, and then slammed his fist into the ground.

 

Miroku had had enough and stalked up to the hanyou, smacking him over the head with his staff. Inuyasha glared daggers at him, rubbing the rising knot. “What the fuck was that for?”

 

“Stop this ridiculous display and tell us what you know so that we can help Kagome!”

 

Inuyasha looked mildly ashamed, lowering his eyes to stare out into the forest. “She's changed. And she's taken him.”

 

“Changed?”

 

“Taken him?” Sango and Miroku spoke at once, voicing two separate questions, and Inuyasha crossed his arms over his chest, not wanting to answer either one of them. “Inuyasha?” Sango prompted him.

 

“It's her scent, but it ain't,” he explained helpfully.

 

“Perhaps whatever changed her scent is what allowed her to survive the fall,” Miroku suggested, despite niggles of fear that wound through his gut. They had been present since Inuyasha had first found her scent at the base of the cliff and declared her alive. This new development had made those worms of worry breed into a teeming mass.

 

“Obviously!” Inuyasha groused, but still didn't look at him.

 

“What do you mean, taken him?” Sango asked again, utterly baffled and wondering if she'd heard correctly.

 

“I mean, she fucking picked him up and walked off!” he growled, a feral sound that his human companions rarely heard coming from his throat. Sure, he growled all the time, but now he sounded like a rabid dog.

 

“How can that be possible? He's over a head taller than her, not to mention she's not that strong…” Sango tried to reason with him but was silenced by his sudden scowl in her direction. Changed…he'd said.

 

Climbing to his feet, the hanyou stomped to the circle of squashed plants and pointed with a furious, fearful claw, trying to ignore the lingering smells of blood, semen, and some cloying sweetness that he couldn't identify. “They were here together, but only her scent leads away.”

 

“Couldn't he have just flown away?”

 

“Keh. Without his clothes and swords? No, I can catch traces of his scent where he brushed against the bushes.” He pointed to where he'd been sniffing out her trail, positive that the petite girl had somehow been carrying him.

 

“Why would he let her do that?” Miroku asked, his mind spinning dizzily as he tried to assimilate this new information.

 

The hanyou grumbled something under his breath and scowled at the ground.

 

“Inuyasha,” Sango started, but was cut off by his explosive curse.

 

“I don't fucking know!” He didn't know why the feminine musk trail led from Sesshomaru's camp to here. He didn't know why Kagome's changed blood mingled with that of his damn half-brother's in the damp forest floor. He didn't know why the scent of sex hung heavy in the air, both feminine and masculine arousal permeating the broken foliage, or why she'd taken the bastard but left his shirt. All he had were questions and he intended to spill more blood when finding the answers. `I'm gonna rip off each piece of him that's touched her and shove them down his damn throat.'

 

XxxxxxxX

 

She woke to a pounding in her skull and tried to shift from her side to a more comfortable position, only to find that her wrists and ankles were bound and that her mouth was full of fabric, also tied tightly. Her male was sitting close by, watching her with glacial eyes. Growling, she snarled her lips around the gag and glared, her violet eyes malevolent and promising pain.

 

“You have much to answer for, bitch.”

 

She disagreed: he was the one who was misbehaving and she didn't appreciate his attitude. A faint voice in the back of her throbbing head kept whispering the word `osuwari', but she didn't understand the relevance: he was already sitting. So many things clamored in her head; brief glimpses of faces, snatches of conversation, fantastic places that couldn't possibly be real. She pushed them all away, focusing her attention on the most immediate of her problems: the male with the insufferably smug expression on his pale face.

 

He reached for her, giving the bindings on her wrist a quick jerk, perhaps to test their strength, perhaps to remind her that she was now his captive. No matter, it wouldn't be for long. However, she'd be much more careful when dealing with him in the future.

 

“The offenses that you have committed against this Sesshomaru are too numerous to count.”

 

She growled again, shaking off the twinge in her chest at the name `Sesshomaru'. The volume of the voices in her mind increased, insisting that it should mean something to her. It was important, somehow. Irritated and straining against the bonds that chafed against her skin, she told the voices to bugger off.

 

`Wrong, wrong,' a small voice lamented, refusing to be shushed. `What about Inuyasha?'

 

`What's an Inuyasha?' she wondered, more than a little miffed that even her own mind was rebelling against her and that her heart had contracted almost painfully when the voice had mentioned it.

 

All she had wanted was a drink and a bath. For some reason, the need for a bath was pressing. Once she had dealt with her male, she would take one and no Sesshomarus or Inuyashas would stand in her way.

 

“Have you nothing to say for yourself?” the corner of his mouth twitched and she was sure that he was laughing at her, irking her to no end. Who did this male think he was, tying her up and insulting her?

 

`Sesshomaru…' the little voice reminded her.

 

`Whatever,' she snapped. Calming her mind, she extended her aura and sent out her call. The male immediately stiffened, the self-satisfied expression dissolving as his eyes brightened. Leaning toward her, his nostrils flared as he inhaled the saccharine musk she released from her pores. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he reared backward, withdrawing his outstretched hand to his chest as if he'd been burnt. A sneer curled his lip as he regarded her with thinly veiled fury.

 

“You dare to lure this Sesshomaru with your pathetic attempt at seduction?”

 

`Yes,' she responded silently, and strengthened the call until her aura pulsed with desire. He was almost shaking, his hand clenching spasmodically in some internal war. One glance at the tent in his pants told her that he was loosing.

 

`Pathetic, indeed,' a slight smile curled her lips against the gag. He would pleasure her before her bath. She might even bathe him too if she was feeling generous afterward.

 

The male abruptly rose to his feet, glaring down at her as he stalked in a circle. He was out of her range of vision for half of the time, but she could still feel his eyes clawing at her body, angry and lustful, the rumble of his steady growl almost lost under the gurgling of the stream. She waited patiently, meeting his stare directly as he passed in front of her, challenging him to do his worst.

 

Sharp claws suddenly grasped her thighs, tensing on the skin, and then pushing so that she lay on her stomach. She wiggled her hips, pleased as his growl increased in volume. It had only been a matter of time before his beast had taken control; now he would have to free her legs to satisfy the want she had instilled in him. Clenching her pelvic muscles in anticipation, she realized that she wanted this beyond a simple wish for a quick rut and the release of her bindings; the hunger was returning, sending a frisson of pain through her veins.

 

He snaked his arm under her abdomen, yanking her hips off the ground and in the air so that her body was jackknifed with her cheek pressed against the dirt and her arms twisted uncomfortably at the shoulder. A long tongue caressed the curve of her bottom and she further tilted her hips, offering her flower and mewling when that same tongue lapped at the nectar glistening on the petals. His nose brushed the inside of one cheek, nuzzling the soft skin as he slipped his tongue between her folds and searched out her hidden pearl.

 

This was divine, but not what she craved, though still being trussed, she could only moan and shake as he pulled the nub into his mouth and suckled, teeth grazing tender skin and drawing trace amounts of blood. The pain only heightened her pleasure and she shrieked as she released, molten gold rushing from the bundle of nerves to burst in her chest.

 

He released her clit, giving it a last lick before sinking his fangs into the thin skin of her inner thigh and injecting a small amount of poison. Furious that he sought to claim her as his sole property, she jerked her hips, trying to throw him off, but the damage was done. His poison seared into the wound, permanently scarring her with the mark of his teeth. There was nothing she could do about it now but she would be sure to return the favor.

 

His arm tightened and he folded his body over hers until his warning growl blew directly in her ear. Not one to be intimidated by any male, she growled back, narrowing her eyes as she glared at him through their corners. Bumping his hips against hers and pressing his hard cock between her cheeks, he bit the back of her neck. She relaxed, feigning submission with the expectation that he would untie her legs quicker if he thought that he had a compliant female. She would deal with his presumption in due time. In the meantime, she wanted him inside her.

 

Teeth tightening slightly as he bumped her once more, he tried to wedge a knee between her legs and growled around her spine as he was met with resistance.

 

The beast that was Sesshomaru released his prize's neck to inspect what was trying to prevent him from taking the female. Hadn't he already claimed her? Yes, her blood and his poison were still sharp on his tongue. Drawing back, he saw that her ankles were bound together with a tattered strip of white cloth, apparently from the female's shirt. He fingered the knot, knowing that he had done this for a very good reason, one that was escaping him at the moment. However, he could not spread her properly thus tied. He could accomplish the act of rutting, but there was nothing like kneeling between the open thighs of a female. Still…

 

Deferring to the wisdom of his more rational side, he straddled her bound legs and pushed his shaft into the slick softness, groaning as her tight channel peeled back the foreskin and exposed his sensitive head to her heat. He thrust slowly, purposefully, simply reveling in how she clamped down on him, almost as if she were trying to trap him within her. But it wasn't deep enough.

 

Pulling out, he swiftly cut the fabric on her ankles and pushed her thighs apart with his knees, slamming back into her as far as he could go. Her muffled screams were a wild song and he howled back, driving frenetically into her until her walls began to ripple and he could no longer contain himself, bursting in a spray of white seed. Panting and still buried to the hilt, he lay over her back and nuzzled a pointed ear, whuffling softly to show her how pleased he was.

 

Accepting his praise with a contented rumble, for he had pleased her as well, she was strangely content and almost regretted what she was about to do. She didn't really want to hurt him; she'd rather cuddle and care for him, but his actions dictated otherwise. Bearing down with her pelvic muscles on the staff that still impaled her, she focused his attention away from her hands as she slowly uncurled her fingers. With a snapping flex of her fingers, curved talons tore through the sculpted muscles of his stomach and he roared, wrenching away from her in surprise and fury.

 

Wasting no time, she rolled to her side and pushed her bottom through the circle of her arms, followed by her legs, until her tied wrists were in front of her. Rolling away from his sudden lunge and surging to her feet, she sprang away and sliced through the gag with her claws, spitting red fabric out of her mouth.

 

Landing in a crouch on the other side of the stream, she faced him as she gnawed through the bindings on her wrists. He glared at her from a position that mirrored her own, a hunched squat, though his clawed hand was flung to the side and oozing hissing green poison. She smelled the destructive power in those toxins, recognized the intelligent being taking control as the crimson bled from his eyes and his face settled into disdainful boredom. He didn't even acknowledge the wound in his stomach.

 

She had caught his beast off guard, but she would not be so lucky with him.

 

“…Kagome!” a far-off voice called, panic and fury edging the words.

 

She cocked her head curiously, wondering at the flutter in her stomach at the sound of that word shouted by that voice. She didn't need rebellious head demons to tell her that she should know what it meant.

 

As his brother's faint cry evaporated into the sunny afternoon, Sesshomaru watched confusion and hesitation flit across her face, her violet eyes swirling as she stared past him from the other side of the stream. So unlike what he associated with his purple-haired fiend, he was forcibly reminded of the other her: the human with brown eyes and black hair who had tailed his brother and had to be rescued every fight. His eyes settled on the swath of midriff now revealed by her torn and shortened blouse. She had been a comely thing even then, not that he'd been looking. Because he hadn't. `This Sesshomaru does not look at humans.'

 

Idly, he wondered why his brother had never taken her, for he'd felt her maidenhead break with his own entry. The fool probably didn't know what to do with a female. `Perhaps he prefers the dead?' he thought with an internal shudder, his face revealing nothing of the revulsion he felt for his brother's relationship with the undead priestess. Necrophilia: yet another way the hanyou would soil his family's good name.

 

The hanyou's voice echoed through the forest again, infinitesimally closer but approaching nonetheless. The female had yet to make a move, her attention still trained on the voice and the bewilderment it stirred within her.

 

Should he catch her and keep her? His youkai had claimed her but no one made decisions for this Sesshomaru, not even his own blood beast. Should he desert her, ridding him of a slinky, sweetly scented problem and lose the chance to gloat at the hanyou? By leaving her here, he would be, in effect, giving her to Inuyasha and the idea rankled him.

 

Despite her propensity for obstinacy and disobedience, she was a good lay. His father had kept a small harem of females for just that reason; it was amazing that he only had the one bastard half-brother. Fortunately, the Inu no Taisho had had the fortitude to resist the calls of the females…in…heat.

 

For the first time since following her into the woods, Sesshomaru took a good look at the female and analyzed the situation. Born human and now full youkai, she was driven by instincts and changed blood, seemingly not aware of her previous existence. She had singled him out, tested him, and found him suitable.

 

She had called…he had answered.

 

“Hn.”

 

Now, she was staring straight at him, a calculating gleam in her keen violet eyes, and he realized that she was not the mindless screw that he'd taken her for.