InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 4: Justification ❯ Lost Things ( Chapter 52 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Bellaniece hung the last of the dresses in her closet with a happy little giggle before dusting off her hands and grabbing her cell phone to call and check up on Kelly.  She had meant to call her friend during their weekend excursion, but everything had slipped her mind.  Brushing aside the stirrings of guilt since she was concerned that Kelly might be feeling some pre-surgery jitters, Bellaniece picked up the phone and unfolded the device.

"Here."  Bellaniece glanced toward the doorway.  Kichiro stood there with the jeweler's box in his hands.  His ears flattened for a moment as he set it down on her bureau. "You might want to put those someplace safe."

She frowned as he slipped away from her room.  He'd seemed . . . sad?  No, not sad . . . reluctant?  But why?

Tossing her phone lightly onto the bed, Bellaniece grabbed the velvet box and one of the two tiny Statue of Liberty replicas off her bureau and headed out of the room.  Cain had a safe in the living room.  That'd probably be the best place for the jewelry.  Opting to peek at the necklace one last time before stowing it away, Bellaniece lifted the lid on the way down the stairs . . . and froze in her tracks.  Eyes flaring wide as air hissed into her lungs, she hesitantly reached out to touch it: the missing earring.  He'd found it?  Where?

"Where did you find it?" she blurted as she ran down the last of the stairs and into the living room. Kichiro glanced up from his laptop computer and slowly set it aside as he pulled off his glasses and dropped them on the coffee table.  "I'm so relieved!  I can't believe you got it back!  Was it in the carriage?  Did the driver call you?  I'll bet he found it, right?  I knew that had to be where I'd lost it . . ."

Kichiro flinched as Bellaniece hurtled herself into his arms in a jubilant hug.  "Can't you return them now?  I mean, you found it, right?  Can you explain what happened?  I'm sure they'd—"

"They won't take them back once you pay for them, Belle.  That store specializes in one of a kind jewelry.  I can't return them.  It doesn't work that way."

She shook her head.  "Oh . . . Well . . . Can you . . . Can you sell them?  Surely someone else—"

"Don't worry about it, Belle."

A shadow of a doubt surfaced in her mind as she crossed the floor and dialed the combination lock on the safe housed behind a painting of Bellaniece at five years-old.  She slipped the jewelry box into the safe and closed the door, slipping the picture back into place before slowly turning to stare at the hanyou.  Kichiro was standing where she'd left him, hands jammed into his pockets as he glanced around the opulent living room without looking at her even once.

"Where did you find it?" she asked quietly.

"Find what?"

"The earring . . . Where did you find it?"

He shrugged.  "It doesn't matter."

Bellaniece crossed her arms over her chest.  "I think it might."

"It's all right," he insisted.  "They look good on you."

She counted to ten before she asked him again.  "Where did you find it?"

"In my . . . pocket."

"In your . . .?"

Bellaniece couldn't have described the feeling that overcame her if her life depended on it.  As if someone had yanked the carpet out from under her feet only worse; as if everything she'd ever thought she believed about Kichiro, about the world, and worst of all, about herself had been nothing but a cruel joke, she stumbled back, shaking her head as she held up her hands to warn off the doctor as he stepped toward her.

The room felt like it was closing in on her, and with a muffled whimper, a choked sigh, she wheeled around on her heel and sprinted for the door.

"Belle, wait, it's—"

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, jerking her arm out of Kichiro's grasp.  "Don't you ever touch me!  You lied to me!  You lied, and you said . . . Oh, it doesn't even matter what you said!  How could you do that?  How could you?"

He flinched but let her go.  Bellaniece ran out the door, into the rain as thunder rumbled high overhead, as streaks of lightning split the sky, as she felt as though her heart was breaking.

'How could he do that?  I felt so bad!  I thought I was so stupid!  I cried over that stupid earring!  I hope he thought that was funny . . . I hope he enjoyed his stupid little prank . . .'

'Maybe that's not what he was trying to do, Belle . . . You didn't give him a chance to explain.'

'Oh, that's just beautiful!  You're taking his side, too?  You were there!  I thought . . . I thought I'd lost that earring, and he—"

'And he told you it was okay, and he told you not to cry.  He didn't like seeing you so upset, and you know it.'

'Then why would he have lied to me?  If he wasn't trying to humiliate me, why would he do that?'

"Belle, damn it, will you wait?"

Bellaniece ignored Kichiro's voice and kept running; stumbling over branches she didn't see as she told herself not to cry, not over a jerk like him, anyway . . .

Kichiro caught her arm and tugged her around to face him.  "Will you listen to me?  Please?"

"Why would you do that?" she asked, unable to keep the plaintive note out of her voice.

His ears were flattened, probably to keep the rain out of them.  He was completely soaked with rain dripping off the ends of his hair, the tip of his nose.  He shrugged.  "I . . . I wanted you to have them.  I thought you should have them."

"So why didn't you just say that?"

He scowled at her.  "Would you have taken them if I'd offered?"

"Of course not!"

"There you go."

"So you lied to me?  You made me think that I was . . . stupid?  I felt like a fool—a complete and utter fool!"

"Belle, that wasn't—I didn't—Damn it!"

"Do you know how badly I felt when I thought that I'd lost that earring?  Do you?  I thought . . . I thought . . . and you . . . you . . . you jerk!"

"Look, I knew you wouldn't take them if I just offered to buy them for you, and I was right.  Does it matter, really?  The end result would have been the same!"

"I think it does.  I thought you understood me!  I thought . . . Oh, I'm so stupid!  I never should have . . . I hate you!"

"I know you do!" he bellowed back.

"Good, then there shouldn't be any surprise when I tell you to go straight to hell!"

"I'm already there, princess!"

"Oh?  Why's that?"

"Because you fucking drive me insane!"

"I drive you insane?  Puh-leez!"

"Yeah, please, yourself!  I've done nothing but bend over backward for you, wench, and you can't even call me by name?  What the hell do you want me to do?  Sprout wings and skywrite it?"

"Why don't you try saying you're sorry and mean it?"

He had his mouth open to retort but snapped it closed as he stared at her like he wasn't sure what to make of what she'd just said.  "What?"

Bellaniece sighed, all of her anger draining out of her as she kicked her toes in the muddy dirt and shook her head.  "All those times you were mean . . . and all I wanted . . . Forget it.  It doesn't matter now."

"No, I think it does," he said quietly.  "Belle . . . I'm sorry . . ."

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

"How can that possibly be all you wanted?  I've done everything to show you I was sorry . . . I . . . I puked for you . . ."

She knew he was just trying to make her smile.  Damned if it didn't work, though.  "You're such a jerk," she grumbled as she tried not to give in.  "If you'd have just said you were sorry and meant it . . ."

"Yeah, I'm a jerk . . . a big, stupid jerk because I really . . . I didn't think you'd believe me if I just said I was sorry."

She dared to meet his gaze.  He was glowering at the ground, sniffling as rain dripped from every major orifice of his body.  Ears flattened, tailored clothes sodden and ruined . . . he'd never looked sexier to Bellaniece, ever, and she swallowed hard as she raised a hand to brush his soaked bangs away from his face.  "You mean that, don't you?  You're sorry for all that stuff."

"Yeah," he admitted with a heavy sigh.  "I am.  Can we go inside now?  You can yell at me more, if you want, just . . . Can we get out of the rain?"

Bellaniece slowly shook her head, not taking her eyes off the hanyou.  "No."

"No . . . All right.  Let's get it over with.  Come on."

"Come on?"

He snorted, ears flicking as he tried to rid himself of the moisture, to no avail.  "Give it your best shot, princess.  Let's hear what you've got.  I'm a jerk, an ass, a bastard . . . Did I miss any?"

She stepped toward him as he eyed her almost warily.  Slowly, deliberately, she reached for his hand, turned it over, slipped the tiny statue in his open palm and closed his fingers over it.  "I bought this for you."

He stared at the piece and smiled, just a little.  "For me?"

She nodded.  "I know, it's . . . cheesy and dumb . . . But I thought maybe you'd put it on your desk or something?  To remind you . . ."

"I could do that."

She smiled, too.

"Mind telling me why you refuse to go back inside yet?"

"I'll go."

He nodded and started to turn around.  Bellaniece caught his hand.  "Wait . . ."

"All right.  What is it?"

Her smile turned bashful, and she shrugged.  "Well, you see . . . When I got caught out in the rain when I was younger, Daddy always came looking for me, and . . . he'd dance with me before he took me inside.  Then he'd build fire, and we'd cuddle . . ."

Kichiro glanced around; as if he were trying to make sure he was interpreting her correctly as he stuck the statue in his pocket.  "So . . . you want me to dance with you . . . and make you a fire . . . and . . . cuddle . . . with you?"

"I am assuming you'd rather skip the toasting of marshmallows."

He winced.  "Yeah, I think that'd be best."

She giggled as she stepped closer to him again, taking both of his hands in hers.  "Dance with me . . . Kichiro."

He blinked quickly, unused to hearing his name on her lips.  Pulling her close, he danced slowly with her, listening to a song that only the two of them could hear as the rain poured down on them.  Bellaniece rested her cheek on his shoulder.  She didn't see the contented little smile that quirked the corners of Kichiro's lips, and she didn't see the suspect brightness in his gaze just before he closed his eyes and sighed, drawing her closer, resting his cheek against her soaked hair.


"I'll get the fire going.  Why don't you get out of that dress before you catch pneumonia?" Kichiro said as he opened the door and stepped inside, ears flicking and sending droplets of water flying.

Bellaniece giggled and closed the door.  "Your ears are the cutest things . . ."

He blushed but snorted as he strode over to start stacking logs in the blackened fireplace.  "Yeah, yeah, leave them out of this, will you?"

"But they are!" she insisted.  "Can you imagine how many women you'd have all over you if everyone saw them?"

"Keh!  Like I care about that," he scoffed as he dug the statue out of his pocket and set it on the coffee table.

"Admit it: you loved dancing in the rain with me."

"It was fine," he allowed, sniffling as rain dripped down his face.  The wood was dusty and dry.  He sneezed as he dropped a couple logs onto the hearth and moved to grab more.  "Now do me a favor and get out of that soaked dress, will you?"

"Okay, okay  . . . You could stand to learn some patience."

"So you say . . . I'd rather that you don't get sick."

Sneezing again as more dust assailed his sensitive nose, Kichiro scowled in disgust as he sniffled.  Unable to smell anything other than the wood, he groped around for the box of matches and flicked his ears, wincing as water dripped into them.  He hated rain.  That would be why.

A dull, wet slapping sound drew him upright as his ears twitched and pivoted to listen, as his brain froze and numbed.  Unable to believe what the sound was, he gaped at the fire he'd just started and let the box of matches fall from his hands.

"Okay, Kichiro.  I took off the wet dress."

'Oh, kami, she didn't . . .'

He slowly turned to peek over his shoulder and stifled a groan.  Bellaniece stood just behind him, completely naked.  One knee bent demurely, hands behind her back; the length of her hair covered one of her breasts as rain water dripped off the ends, running in a thin stream down her belly only to disappear in the shadowed taper of bronze curls between her legs.  He stared, but two things in particular interested him: two thin lavender stripes; one on each of her slender hips . . . stripes that could easily have been hidden under her bathing suit . . .

"Damn . . ."

"Something wrong?" she asked as she twisted a lock of hair around her fingers.

"Kami, no . . . not at all . . . Everything's just . . . perfect . . ."

"Perfect?"

"Yeah . . . perfect . . ."

"You're still all wet," she told him, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.  "Maybe you should get out of your wet clothes, don't you think?"

His hands were trembling too much to work the tiny buttons.  Coupled with the wet fabric, it seemed like his clothing was trying to thwart him.  Muttering a low curse and considering doing something that would have been unthinkable ten minutes before, he cracked his knuckles and lifted his chin as he raised his hand, poised his claws to cut through the fabric.

Bellaniece giggled softly and stepped toward him.  Stifling a groan as her body moved in a beautiful symmetry, she reached out, unhooked the buttons, pressing her lips against his flesh as she revealed him.

He wanted to stop her.  He grasped her upper arms to do it.  She peeked up at him; her eyes darkened in the filmy half-light, the smoldering burn stopped him.  She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, kneading his skin as she pushed the wet fabric down the length of his arms.  Stepping around him, pressing wet kisses to his conflagrant flesh, he closed his eyes and felt himself shudder.  Her hands stroked his skin, setting off ripples of muscles that leapt under her touch.  She slipped her arms around his waist, pressed her breasts into his back, leaned her cheek on his shoulder as her ragged sighs flitted over him.

Sparing a moment to run her fingertips over his belly button, Bellaniece let her claws drag over his skin, lower and lower, grasping the button of his slacks as he rasped out a ragged moan.  Powerless to stop her, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality, he felt her tug the button open, felt the zipper give under her fingers.

She stepped back around him, hands grasping his hips as she slowly pushed the slacks down over his hips, dropping to her knees to run the tip of her tongue along the ridges of his abdomen; to kiss the rise and hollow of his hip.  His body jerked away from her ministrations.  The contact was too much and somehow just not enough.  Stepping out of the ruined pants and absently thanking sheer dumb luck that he'd chased her without bothering to put his shoes back on, Kichiro grasped her arms again, meaning to pull her to her feet, meaning to kiss her senseless.

All of his intentions dissipated when her hands closed in around him.  With a harsh cry, a violent lurch, eyes flashing open as he stared at her incredulously, he shook his head, tried to tell her not to do it.  Bellaniece smiled, eyes shining as her scent spiked and surged around him, intoxicating him, leaving him breathless as she flicked out her tongue, touched the part of him throbbing in her hands; as she sank the heat of her mouth over him. Kichiro watched in helpless wonder as she took him in with incredible slowness, with a fluidity in her movements that nearly brought him to his knees.  The violent trembles that rocked through his body were intensified as she moaned, the reverberations of the sound shocking and wondrous.  Too much sensation, too much movement . . . Kichiro growled, his hands cupping her cheeks, stroking her delicate skin.  She worked him faster, her head bobbing in a smooth rhythm.  He shuddered; he groaned.  "Belle, I . . . don't . . ."

But it was too late.  The powerful pulsations that shot through him stilled his protests as pleasure spilled over into pain, as the rioting ache ballooned into a need to possess her.  Letting his head fall back as he gave up the last remnants of resistance, he felt himself exploding in a thousand pieces or more, his tattered cry echoed through the living room.

Bellaniece sat back, with a secretive smile as Kichiro fell to his knees before her.  She sighed and kissed his cheek before reaching for a blanket off the sofa, and he shook his head as he struggled to breathe.  She seemed to think that it was all over, and in his still-hazy mind, he didn't react quickly.  She tugged him down to lean against the sofa and crawled over, spreading the blanket over them before nestling herself against his chest.

"Just what do you think . . . you're doing?" he rasped, breathing still labored and harsh.

"Cuddling," she replied as she kissed his shoulder.  "I just want to be near you right now."

He smiled at the warmth that ebbed through him.  "We're not finished," he informed her.

"We're not?"

He shook his head, tilted her chin to kiss her forehead.  "If you weren't so impatient . . ."

She sat up, her brow furrowing in confusion as the blanket slipped off her shoulder.  "I thought you wanted . . . You didn't . . .?  But—"

"Oh, I wanted that," he stated flatly.  "I want something else, too."

"Like . . . what?" she asked a little breathlessly.

He chuckled as he traced the curve of her breast with his claws.  Her gaze darkened with passion once more.  He chuckled again.  "You look good, Belle-chan, did you know?"

"D-Do I?" she whispered, eyes drifting closed as he rolled to lay her down.  He nipped her lower lip.  She shivered.

"Kami, yes  . . . Good enough to . . . eat . . ."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I don't—"

"Are you going to tell me that none of your boys ever worshipped you, princess?"

"Worship me?"

He kissed her gently, tiny kisses all over the curves of her lips.  She sighed and smiled, her hands stroking his cheeks, tracing his eyebrows, fingertips grazing over the rough skin of his jaw.  "A princess deserves to be worshipped," he told her.

"Does . . . she?"

He nodded.  "Absolutely . . . and I fully intend to do that."  Placing gentle kisses on each of her closed eyes, the tip of her nose, the bow of her lip . . . Bellaniece sighed, stroking his ears as he kissed every inch of her face.

"Kichiro . . ." she breathed.

"Damn, I like it when you say my name."

She kissed him as he squeezed her breast.  Her whimper shifted into a moan as she arched her back, pressing her breast more firmly into his hand.  "I want to hear you scream my name, princess."   He traced the hollows of her throat with the tip of his tongue.  She gasped, her lips parting as her hands fell to his shoulders.

She smelled like the rain; she tasted like the sea.  Her body hummed, throbbed with the beat of her heart: wild as a young bird preparing to try out its wings for the very first time.  Bellaniece clung to him, held onto him, uttered sharp sounds both soothing and enticing.

Kichiro slid up her body, used his skin to create a thorough caress.  Capturing her lips in a kiss meant to brand her, meant to subdue and excite her, he smiled inwardly as she threaded her arms around his neck.  She whimpered quietly, body trembling like a summer blossom kissed with dew.  He could taste himself lingering on her lips.  The heady reminder was a silent impetus, goading him, torturing him, and he broke the kiss to stare at her.  "No one else, Belle . . . not ever."

She shook her head, her gaze still hazy, veiled by the desire that coursed through her so heavy, so consuming that Kichiro could smell it.  "No, never . . ."

"Promise me," he insisted.

Bellaniece nodded slowly.  "I promise."

He smiled.  "Good."

Dropping his mouth over her collarbone, Kichiro reveled in the reactions he inspired.  Bellaniece gasped and drew up off the floor, arms tightening around his neck as he started a slow decent.  Climbing the swell of her breasts, gently squeezing them in his hands, he dragged his lips over her, pressed wet kisses on her flushed skin.  Her body was impossibly soft, unbelievably taunt over muscles that quivered under his touch.  Breasts heaving and straining against him, her body begged for whatever relief he could provide.  Words spilled from her lips in a jumble of incoherence.  She tried to say his name but faltered.  Running his hands up and down her sides to soothe her only seemed to make it worse.  Her soft entreaties became tiny sounds, her need rife in the tangled web of emotion.

His mouth closed over the peak of her breast as she sucked in a sharp breath, arching up off the floor.  Her knees fell apart as he moved to cover her, her body rising up as he settled between her thighs.  Her damp heat singed him, beckoned him.  Ignoring his own baser instincts, willing away the overwhelming need to claim her, he concentrated instead on touching her.  She whimpered and whined, pushed against him only to be thwarted by his unrelenting perusal, his slow invocation.

Kissing his way down the slope of her belly, he sucked in a harsh breath as her claws scraped over his shoulders.  Capturing her hands in one of his, he continued his path of seduction.  Bellaniece tugged on her hands, trying to free herself.  He uttered a low growl to still her.

Her answer was a plaintive moan, almost a whine.  She writhed under him, the heat of her body pressing against his belly.  Kichiro let his fangs drag over her skin, mouth closing on the tender flesh of her hip.  Her crests captivated him.  Determined to touch every bit of her skin, he ran the tip of his tongue along the jagged outlines of the youkai markings.  She was meant to be his, wasn't she?  She was born that way: marked in his color, marked by his lips.

"I . . . I need . . . I . . . Kich . . . iro . . ." she murmured.

He leaned on his elbow to spare her a glance.  "It's okay, Belle . . . You're safe, right?  Trust me."

She jerked her head in silent agreement, her body relaxing and tensing by turns.  "I trust you," she whispered, closing her eyes.  Kichiro let go of her hands to grasp her hips, to rub the pads of his thumbs over the crests, darkening as scalding blood rushed through her body, as her scent infused the air with the richness of her.

Burying his nose in the tangle of curls between her legs, Kichiro breathed deep.  "Wildflowers and really fucking fantastic sex," he mused.

Bellaniece moaned in reply, and he chuckled.

Running his knuckle in the moisture he found, he was rewarded by her harsh cry as her hips lifted off the floor, as her body shook under him.  He groaned softly as he pressed a finger into her.  Searing heat, scalding pressure, her body throbbed around him as he lowered his mouth to her again.  She cried out time and again, violent entreaties as his name fell from her lips like rain, begging him to stop, imploring him to keep going.  Captured between a desperate need and her body's satisfaction, she abandoned herself to him, trusted him to show her the way.

She rocked against his hand, his mouth, finding an unsteady rhythm of movement that tempered her need as it pushed her closer and closer to satiation.  Kichiro basked in the taste of her, the smell of her, the sounds that slipped from her parted lips.

He could feel the tremors taking hold of her from somewhere deep inside.  Resonating from her core as pleasure took over, she called out his name in the quiet.  Her body jerked and convulsed around him in violent shivers and quiet surges.  The sound of splintering of wood didn't deter him.  Driven by the consuming need to show her the beauty that he saw in her, he broke her will over and over, pushed her over the edge time and again, until she was laughing and crying at the same time.  Then he crawled up to her, gathered her close, stretched out so she could cuddle against him as she squeezed her eyes closed, still babbling things that made no sense at all.

"You broke the table," he told her with a chuckle as he stared at the now three-legged coffee table.

Bellaniece sat up and craned her neck to follow the direction of his gaze.  Cheeks blossoming in an embarrassed flush, she buried her face against his chest as he laughed louder.  "Did I do that?"

"Yeah, you did, princess . . . should we replace that so your daddy doesn't know?"

She giggled but refused to lift her head.  "I think so."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself to the point of violence," he quipped.

She groaned.  "That's so not funny . . . but I'm glad I did, too . . ."

His smile dimmed as he caught her chin with his finger and tipped her face to look at her.  "Why did you think we were done after you . . . had your way with me?"

She shrugged but didn't try to look away.  "Other guys . . . They would have been done."

He shook his head.

"It's not a big deal, right?  I don't mind it so much . . . I just like to cuddle."

"Wait . . . So you'd give some guy head just so he'd cuddle with you?"

Bellaniece sighed and shrugged again.  "Well . . . not exactly . . ."

"Belle . . . that's not how it should be.  Don't you know that?"

She smiled shyly.  "I do now."

He heaved a sigh but smiled, too, pulling her close again, content to give her the cuddle-time she wanted.  "Good because what we just did?  That's how it is supposed to be."  He snorted.  "You'll be giving me those names now."

"And why would I do that?" she countered, her tone rather bemused.

"Because if they're fucking stupid enough not to realize that there's something to be said for pleasing your ma—girl, then they need to have their heads shoved up their own asses," he grumbled, face reddening as much from his near slip as it was out of sheer irritation at some men's ignorance.

"Your . . . You almost said mate, didn't you?" she asked, leaning up on her elbows to look at him.

"I told you, Belle.  There will never be another man who'll touch you or I'll kill him, myself."

For the briefest moment, she looked absolutely thrilled before a wash of concern forced away the happy glint in her eyes.  Kichiro could have kicked himself for inadvertently reminding her of anything that made her sad.

"Look, I know how you feel about that, but I've made up my mind.  You're mine.  Period.  End of story."

"Kichiro . . ."

"No, I don't want to hear it, okay?  I know how you feel, and I don't blame you, but you've got to know that we're inevitable."

"I'm not saying 'never' . . . We just have to wait till Daddy is convinced that he needs to stick around."

"Kami save me from wenches and girls who think to damn fucking much," he muttered as he gently pushed her away and sat up.  "Five years, princess!  I've lived through the last five years, waiting for you, and now you're telling me—"

"I can't, you know!  I can't choose you when Daddy . . . He's just waiting, you know?  He's waiting for me to find a mate and have a son . . ."

"A son?" Kichiro echoed, hooking his arms around his raised knees.  "What the hell does one have to do with the other?"

"I told you, didn't I?  Daddy needs an heir—the next tai-youkai.  He needs a son . . . or a grandson.  Then . . . as my mate, you'd be interim tai-youkai till our son was old enough to take over, but the point is that Daddy . . ."

Kichiro sighed.  "All right," he reasoned slowly.  "So . . . we just don't have pups."

"What?"

He sighed, peeking over his shoulder at Bellaniece, who was leaning on her elbow looking duly perplexed.  "You said it, yourself.  Your father needs an heir.  If he thinks you're not going to provide the heir, then what does it matter, if you're mated or not?"

"You . . . don't  . . . want pups?"

He grimaced at the hurt in her expression.  "No!  That's not it, at all!  I want . . . a houseful of pups; an army of pups . . . but if it would make your father think that he needs to find another mate, then . . . whatever, so long as you're happy."

"An army's . . . quite large . . ."

He rolled his eyes and stretched out beside Bellaniece, leaning on his elbow as he pushed her still-damp bangs out of her face.  "As sexy as you are, Belle-chan, I'm pretty certain that seeing you pregnant with my pups . . . that'd be sexy as hell, too."

She finally smiled.  "So you mean that we'd just tell Daddy that we're never having pups?"

He shrugged.  "If that's what it takes."

"He won't believe that.  Daddy knows . . . I've told him before, that I wanted lots of babies."

"Yeah, well, something tells me that your father isn't going to like me, ever.  I'll just tell him I don't want pups."

"But you really do, right?"

"Belle—"

"I'm just making sure!"

He sighed.  "You know I wouldn't make you choose between your fucking father and me, right?"

His answer didn't really make her happy, and she sighed.  "I know, and I . . . It means everything to me."

He forced a smile.  "Come here, princess.  You wore me out."

"What?  The little princess wore out the big, strong hanyou?"

He snorted.  "Keh!  Thought you wanted to cuddle."

She giggled but let him draw her into his arms.  "I'd think you'd be glad you were the first to . . . Well, my first, that way."

"And last."

"And only."

He kissed her forehead as she stroked his cheek.  The feeling of well-being was almost frightening, the absolute completeness of holding Bellaniece against his heart, as close as his breath.  In that moment she was more precious to him, more mysterious to him than any other being could possibly be and yet in his soul he knew her.  Beautiful, gentle, as wild as the storm outside, she was Bellaniece, and she was meant to be his mate.

She sighed softly as he caught her fingers, as he pressed them to his lips.  "I can get used to having you around," he confessed.

Bellaniece giggled softly.  "Are you sure?  I thought you couldn't stand me."

"You're fine when you're not talking," he allowed.

She tugged his braid playfully.  "You're such a jerk."

"Yeah," he agreed.  "I really am . . ."

"Sometimes I think you like to make me mad."

"Don't be ridiculous, little girl . . . my princess . . . my goddess . . ."

His smile was real this time as he pulled the blanket over them.  "Belle?"

"Hmm?"

"I . . . liked . . . dancing in the rain with you."

She giggled and nestled closer.  "Me, too."